"There, ma'am," said she, "that is all he has had for painting a friend's picture." "Oh! what a shame." "His friend was going abroad--to Natal; to his uncle that farms out there, and does very well; it is a first-rate part, if you take out a little stock with you, and some money; so my one gave him credit, and when the letter came with that postmark, he counted on a five-pound note; but the letter only said he had got no money yet, but sent him something as a keepsake: and there was this little stone.

Poor fellow! he flung it down in a passion; he was so disappointed." Phoebe's great gray eyes filled; and Rosa gave a little coo of sympathy that was very womanly and lovable.
Phoebe leaned her cheek on her hand, and said thoughtfully, "I picked it up, and brought it away; for, after all--don't you think, ma'am, it is very strange that a friend should send it all that way, if it was worth nothing at all ?" "It is impossible.

He could not be so heartless." "And do you know, ma'am, when I take it up in my fingers, it doesn't feel like a thing that was worth nothing." "No more it does: it makes my fingers tremble.

May I take it home, and show it my husband?
he is a great physician and knows everything." "I am sure I should be obliged to you, ma'am." Rosa drove home, on purpose to show it to Christopher.

She ran into his study: "Oh, Christopher, please look at that.