She took a book and seated herself in the veranda; but she did not read. The captain, stepping to the door presently, saw her sitting with the book lying unopened in her lap, her attitude and expression denoting profound thought. She did not seem aware even of his approach as he drew near her side, but started and looked up in surprise as he laid his hand gently on her head, saying, “A penny for my little girl’s thoughts! She looks as if she had the affairs of the nation on her shoulders.”
“I’m sure they’re not worth a penny, papa, but you are welcome to them for nothing,” she returned laughingly, “if you have time to let me talk to you.”
She rose as she spoke, and taking the chair, he drew her to his knee.
“Plenty of time, now that that letter has been dispatched,” he said. “But are you to do all the talking?”
“Oh no, indeed, papa; I hope you’ll do the most of it, but I suppose I must begin by telling you my thoughts.”
“Yes.”
“I was thinking about a poor girl that spoke to me in the street to-day and asked for sewing to do to earn money to support herself and her sick mother.
“I told her I would try to get some work for her. Afterward Max and I went into a store where we saw brackets and picture frames, and other things, carved out of wood as we do it, only they were not so pretty as some we have made; at least we both thought so, and we wondered how much was paid for such work. The price they were asking for them was on them, and Max thought it a good one. We were talking together about it when the merchant came up and asked if we wanted to buy any of those things.
“He said he had sold a good many, and was sorry the lady who had carved them for him was going to give up doing it. I asked if it paid well, and he told me how much he gave, and asked if I knew anybody who would like to earn money in that way.”
“And what answer did you make to that?”