The tears suddenly flooded into Rebecca's eyes. She could not turn quickly enough to hide them from Ruth's keen vision. But all she said was:
"Well, Ruthie! I congratulate you. Think of it! Two hundred dollars offered for each set of those old papers. Well!"
"You see, it would scarcely have been wise to have built the fire with them," Ruth said drily.
"I—I should say not. And—and they have lain in our attic for years."
"And you brought them to college as waste paper," Ruth added.
Rebecca was silent. Ruth, smiling roguishly, stole up behind her. Suddenly she put both arms around Rebecca Frayne and hugged her tight.
"Becky! Don't you understand?" she cried.
"Understand what?" Rebecca asked gruffly, trying to dash away her few tears.
"Why, honey, I did it for you. I believed the papers must be worth something. I had heard of a set of New York illustrated papers for the years of the Civil War selling for a big price. These, I believed, must be even more interesting to collectors of such things.
"So I wrote to Mr. Cameron, and he sent me the names of old book dealers, and they sent me the addresses of several collectors. This Mr. Radley has a regular museum of such things, and he offers the best price—four hundred dollars for the lot if they prove to be as perfect as I said they were. And they are."