"You've kept your time," said Aunt Hepsy well pleased. "Did ye come home alone?"
"No, Aunt Hepsy," answered Lucy very low, and the semi-darkness hid her face. "Mr. Goldthwaite was at Dovecot, and walked home with me."
"Mrs. Keane's folks all well?" asked Aunt Hepsy, suspecting nothing.
"Yes; and O Aunt Hepsy, I have a letter from Tom: his picture in the exhibition has sold for five hundred dollars."
Aunt Hepsy uplifted her hands in mute amazement.
"Marcy on us," she exclaimed at last. "What a power o' money for a picter! Is't true, Lucy?"
"Yes, quite true; and he has got such praise for it," said Lucy joyfully. "Aren't you proud of him, Aunt Hepsy?"
"I guess I am," said Aunt Hepsy. "Five hundred dollars! Dear, dear! What will Josh say to this? Does he say anything about coming home soon?"
"I'll read you the letter when the lamp's lighted, auntie," said Lucy.
"Well, light it, there's a good child; it's 'most time anyway. I've been idle a good half-hour."