will see your ma has what she needs. I was mothered by the
best woman God ever made, and since she died, every sick mother I see
has a sort of claim on my heart."

Pausing an instant to adjust the tucker of her machine, Mrs. Emmet
looked up, and involuntarily the women shook hands, as if sealing a
compact.

It was a long walk to the building whither Beryl directed her steps,
and as she passed through the rear entrance of a large and fashionable
photograph establishment, she was surprised to find that it was
half-past two o'clock.

The Superintendent of the department, from whom she received her work,
was a man of middle-age, of rather stern and forbidding aspect; and as
she approached his desk, he pointed to the clock on the mantel-piece.

"Barely time to submit those types for inspection, and have them packed
for the express going East. They are birthday gifts, and birthdays have
an awkward habit of arriving rigidly on time."

He unrolled the tissue paper, and with a magnifying glass, carefully
examined the pictures; then took from an envelope in the box, two short
pieces of hair, which he compared with the painted heads before him.

"Beautifully done. The lace on that child's dress would bear even a
stronger lens than my glass. Here Patterson, take this box, and letter
to Mr. Endicott, and if satisfactory, carry them to the packing
counter. Shipping address is in the letter. Hurry up, my lad. Sit down,
Miss Brentano."

"Thank you, I am not tired. Mr. Mansfield, have you any good news for
me?"

"You mean those etchings; or the designs for the Christmas cards? Have
not heard a word, pro or con. Guess no news is good news; for I notice
'rejected' work generally travels fast, to roost at home."

"I thought the awards were made last week, and that to-day you could
tell me the result."

"The awards have been made, I presume, but who owns the lucky cards is
the secret that has not yet transpired. You young people have no
respect for red tape, and methodical business routine. You want to
clap spurs on fate, and make her lower her own last record? 'Bide awee.
Bide awee'."

"Winning this prize means so much to me, that I confess I find it very
hard to be patient. Success would save me from a painful and expensive
journey, upon which I must start to-night; and therefore I hoped so
earnestly that I might receive good tidings to-day. I am obliged to go
South on an errand, which will necessitate an absence of severa