“I have thought of that. I brought a few yards of oilcloth to-day and they will be safe and dry if it pours.”
“Good!” she said. “Then if the moth comes out you bring it, and if I am not here, put it under the cloth and I will run up some time in the afternoon. But if I were you, I would not spread the rug until you know if I can remain. I have to steal every minute I am away, and any day uncle takes a notion to stay at home I dare not come.”
“Try to come to-morrow. I am going to bring some medicine for your aunt.”
“Put it under the cloth if I am not here; but I will come if I can. I must go now; I have been away far too long.”
The Harvester picked up one of the drug pamphlets, laid the drawing inside it, and placed it with his other books. Then he drew out his pocket book and laid a five-dollar bill on the table and began folding up the chair and putting away the things. The Girl looked at the money with eager eyes.
“Is that honestly what you would pay at the arts and crafts place?”
“It is the customary price for my patterns.”
“And are you sure this is as good?”
“I can bring you some I have paid that for, and let you see for yourself that it is better.”
“I wish you would!” she cried eagerly. “I need that money, and I would like to have it dearly, if I really have earned it, but I can't touch it if I have not.”