notes she
danced and clapped her hands; and when I gave them to her she sat down
and hugged them and laughed and cried.

"If you knew how poor we've been!" she said, wiping her eyes. "How
lonely and worried and miserable! Your kindness has been the only nice
thing ever since father died. Twenty times five! That's a hundred.
They're real notes aren't they? I haven't seen one for ages."

"They're real enough," I told her. "I'll give you gold for them, if you
like."

"I'd rather have their very selves," she said with a laugh. She studied
one carefully; and suddenly she dropped them with a cry and sprang to
her feet. Her face had gone white.

"Mr. Levy!" she cried. "Oh, Mr. Levy! _You put them there!_"

I told her a lie right out; and I'm not ashamed of it. I was a hard man
of business, I said; and a Jew; and she was a silly sentimental child,
or she'd never take such an idea into her head; and she needn't suppose
I kept my shop for charity, and she'd know better when she was older.
She heard me out. Then she put her hand on my shoulder.

"Dear kind friend," she said, "father died in May this year. The note
that I looked at was dated in June!" And I stood and stared at her like
a fool. I suppose I looked a bit cut up, for she stroked my arm gently.

"You dear, good fellow!" she said. She seemed to have grown from a child
into a woman in a few minutes. "I can't take them, but it will help me
to be a better girl, to have known someone like you!"

"Like me!" I said, and laughed. "I'm just--just a rough, money-grubbing
Jew. That's all I am."

She shook her head like mad.

"You may say what you like," she told me; "but you can't alter what I
think. You're good--good--good!"

Then I told her just what had happened.

"So, you see, you owe me nothing," I wound up.

She wiped her eyes and took hold of me by the sleeve.

"I will tell you what I owe you," she said. "Food when I was hungry;
kindness when I was wretched; your time, your care--yes, and the risk of
your life. If you had had your way you would have given me all that
money. You--Mr. Levy, you say that it is just a matter of business. What
profit did you expect to make?"

"I expected--to make you happy," I said; and she looked up at me
suddenly; and I saw what I saw. "Little girl!" I cried. "May I try? In
another way."

I held out my arms, and she dropped into them.

"My profits!" I said.

"Oh!" she cried. "I hope so. I will try--try--try!"

Mr. Lev