Those roguish eyes of the
lady, who somewhat resembled her mother, were fixed on her again.
She was sure that her mother did not look like that picture then,
but she was equally sure that she had, some time or other cast
just such a glance at her. The expression of the lady found
something like its counterpart in her memory. Now, her mother
was sick and sad; she seldom smiled. But some time she must have
been a young girl, and then she must have looked like that
portrait. She felt just like asking Mrs. Gordon if that was her
portrait, but she did not dare to do such a thing. While she was
attentively watching the roguish lady's face, her kind friend
entered the room, followed by Grace.
"How do you do, Katy?" said the former, with a benevolent smile.
"Quite well, I thank you, ma'am. I hope you will excuse me for
coming again," replied she.
"I am very glad you have come."
"I was thinking of you the other day, and wishing I might see
you," added Grace, "for the Mayor told us a very pretty story
about you."
"He was very good to me; and I never shall forget him or you,"
answered Katy, warmly.
"I suppose you have come to get another receipt; but I told Dr.
Flynch not to disturb you," said Mrs. Gordon.
"O, no ma'am--I didn't come for that. You were too kind to me
before, and I have come now to pay you for that month's rent.
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