When Eva Dearman awoke on Monday morning in her little iron cot-bed in the orphanage dormitory, somehow she did not see things plain and unattractive, as they really were. There was such a joyous anticipation in her heart that even the dull gray morning seemed aglow. She met Amanda Brown in the hallway and gave her a sudden hug, as she exclaimed, “I have had the loveliest time, Mandy. Did you miss me just a little bit?”
Amanda clung to her friend, as she sobbed: “Oh, Eva, don’t go away and leave me again. It’s just like funerals all the time when you are gone. Everybody else is so horrid to me. I tried being nice, the way you asked me to, and then the girls said I was aping after you, and they called me Miss Dearman.”
“Well, it’s just a mean shame!” Eva cried, with flashing eyes. “How girls can take pleasure in being unkind is more than I can understand. But don’t cry, Amanda! There’s half an hour yet before classes; let’s run to the woods and back.”
All that day it was hard for Eva to keep her mind on her work, for had not her wonderful artist-friend said that she would call at the Home on Monday! And so Eva was continually expecting to be called to the office. Would Mrs. Friend allow her to accept the drawing-lessons? she wondered.
Never did a day pass more slowly, and, for the first time since she had been there, Eva’s recitations were poor, but the teacher, Miss Bently, loved Eva, and was very patient with her. At last there came a rap on the class-room door and Eva held her breath. Who would it be? Perhaps Mrs. Friend would bring Madge Peterson to visit the class-room, but it was only a little girl with a note. Miss Bently read it and then glanced up with a smile. She believed that she now understood her favorite’s mental preoccupation.
“You are to go to Mrs. Friend’s office, Eva,” she said, kindly. “You have a visitor.”
The girl’s face glowed as she went toward the door. In the office Madge Peterson was seated. She arose as Eva entered, and, taking both her hands, she exclaimed: “Eva, I have splendid news for you! Mrs. Friend is pleased with our plan, and you may come to the city next Saturday morning and spend the day with me.”
“Oh, Mrs. Friend!” Eva cried joyously. “How can I ever thank you!”
“It is Miss Peterson whom you must thank, Eva,” Mrs. Friend replied.
“I do indeed thank her,” the girl exclaimed, with shining eyes. “And I hope I shall become such a famous artist that she will feel repaid for her interest. Shall you be very much disappointed if I don’t, Miss Peterson?”