The old woman hesitated. It was not difficult to see that, although she wanted to get as high a price as possible for her plates, yet she did not want to ask so much that Patty would refuse to take them.
“You tell me,” she said, insinuatingly, “’bout what you think them plates is worth.”
“No,” said Patty, firmly, “I never buy things that way. You tell me your price, and then I will buy them or not as I choose.”
“Well,” said the old woman, slowly, “the last lady that I sold plates to, she give me fifty cents apiece for three of ’em, and though I think they was purtier than these here, yet you tell me these is more vallyble, and so,” here the old woman made a great show of firmness, “and so my price for these plates is a dollar apiece.”
As soon as she had said it, she looked at Patty in alarm, greatly fearing that she would not pay so much.
But Patty replied, “I will give you five dollars for the two,—because I know that is nearer their value than the price you set.”
“Bless your good heart, and your purty face, Miss,” said the old woman, as the tears came into her eyes. “I’m that obliged to you! I’ll send the money straight to my son John. He’s in the hospital, poor chap, and he needs it sore.”
Elise had rarely been brought in contact with poverty and want, and her generous heart was touched at once. She emptied her little purse out upon the table, and was rejoiced to discover that it contained something over ten dollars.
“Please accept that,” she cried, “to buy things for your son, or for yourself, as you choose.”