Berry sat down close to him and looked, shyly, into his face, trying to appear at ease, though her poor heart thumped wildly against her side, and the fitful color came and went, like a flag of distress, in her cheeks. “Ah, you are getting on fast, sir!” she cried, with a slight tremor in her musical voice. “Your eyes seem quite strong to-day, and that blistering red skin is getting fairer. How fortunate, too, that you will only be pitted very slightly, and if I could but have come to you a little sooner you need not have carried a single scar.” “You came in time to save my life, dear child, that was enough,” replied the great man, so kindly that it emboldened Berenice to exclaim: “Oh, how glad I was to serve you, sir! I can never make you realize it. It is sweet to save a life so valuable to the world and to so many friends who love you.” He smiled at her gratefully. “Among those latter friends, please let me have the pleasure of counting you, henceforth, Miss Brown,” he answered. “In my gratitude to you for all you have done for me in this terrible illness, I look upon you almost as a daughter, and am eager to advance your interests in any way most pleasing to you. Our good doctor has just told me that you must leave me soon, to my great regret. But, as he puts it, on the score of your health, I dare not protest against my ill fortune in losing you, just as we begin to know each other well.” “Your words make me very, very happy,” she sweetly said, “but do not think that I intend to desert you altogether, for I shall remain in the village a while longer, and I will come and see you every day, if you will let me.” “I shall be only too glad to have you come whenever you will, my dear young lady, and I wish you to understand that I take a deep interest in you and am anxious to reward you beyond your mere salary for all you have done for me. Tell me frankly, Miss Brown, if there is any great favor, financial or otherwise, I can do for you?” CHAPTER XXXI. ALLOY ALWAYS GLITTERS. Berenice was so overwhelmed with joyous excitement that the tears rushed in a torrent to her eyes, and she half sobbed: “Ah, you could do much for me if you would--but--I fear to ask.” “Only try me, dear girl; only name your wishes and see. If you need money, and very likely you do in your position, I am very rich and surely the saving of my life is worth a little fortune to me. Come, dry your tears and let me make you happy. I shall write you a check for five thousand dollars. That is little enough for all I owe you, too little! Will that please you?” She flung out her white hands convulsively, sobbing: “No, no, no--not a penny! I am not rich, but a fortune is not what I crave. There is something dearer, dearer!” “What else, child, speak? What other favor can I do for you?” the senator asked, in growing wonder. He was more amazed than ever when the white-gowned figure knelt, humbly, at his feet, with little, upraised, beseeching hands.