firm,
discriminating hand,--she had been struck with the way he handled her
sketches,--would never have signed a poor performance. Perhaps it was
Elihu Vedder in disguise,--or Sargent, or Abbey! Since the descent of
the fairy-godmother upon the class a year ago, no miracle seemed
impossible. And yet, the miracle which actually befell would have
seemed, of all imaginable ones, the most incredible. It took place,
too, in the simplest, most unpremeditated manner, as miracles have a
way of doing.

One evening, about a week after the return of the miniature, the
family were gathered together as usual about the argand burner. It was
a warm evening, and Ned, who was to devote his energies to the cause
of electrical science, when once he was delivered from the thraldom of
the classics, had made some disparaging remarks about the heat
engendered by gas.

"By the way," said Mr. Burtwell, "that, reminds me! I have a letter
for you, Madge. I met the postman just after I left the door this
noon, and he handed me this with my gas bill. Who's your New York
correspondent?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Madge, with entire sincerity, for it was
far too early to look for any word from the _Gay Head_.

The letter had the appearance of a friendly note, being enclosed in a
square envelope, undecorated with any business address. Madge opened
it, and glanced at the signature, which was at the bottom of the first
page. The blood rushed to her face as her eye fell upon the name:
"Philip Spriggs, Art Editor of the _Gay Head_."

She read the letter very slowly, with a curious feeling that this was
a dream, and she must be careful not to wake herself up. This was what
she read:

* * * * *

"MY DEAR MISS BURTWELL,

"We like Noah's Dove as much as I thought we should. We shall hope to
get him out some time next year. Can't you work up the pickpocket
idea? That small boy, the second one from the right, is nucleus enough
for another set. In fact, it is the small-boy element in your Student
that makes him original--and true to life. We think that you have the
knack, and count upon you for better work yet. We take pleasure in
handing you herewith a check for this.

"Yours truly,
"PHILIP SPRIGGS."

* * * * *

The check was a very plain one on thin yellow pape