"But you live in Philadelphia," he said. "We shall lose sight of her."
"Not unless you refuse to come to Philadelphia, too."
"I am a poor man. Perhaps I might not find work there."
"That shall be my care, Mr. Harding. I have another inducement to offer. God has bestowed upon me a large share of this world's goods. I am thankful for it since it will enable me in some slight way to express my sense of your great kindness to Ida. I own a neat brick house, in a quiet street, which you will find more comfortable than this. Just before I left Philadelphia, my lawyer, by my directions, drew up a deed of gift, conveying the house to you. It is Ida's gift, not mine. Ida, give this to Mr. Harding."
The child took the parchment and handed it to the cooper, who took it mechanically, quite bewildered by his sudden good fortune.
"This for me?" he said.
"It is the first installment of my debt of gratitude; it shall not be the last," said Mrs. Clifton.
"How shall I thank you, madam?" said the cooper. "To a poor man, like me, this is a most munificent gift."
"You will best thank me by accepting it," said Mrs. Clifton. "Let me add, for I know it will enhance the value of the gift in your eyes, that it is only five minutes' walk from my house, and Ida will come and see you every day."
"Yes, mamma," said Ida. "I couldn't be happy away from father and mother, and Jack and Aunt Rachel."