The Doctor changed color then, and tearing the cover away, examined the enclosure.
“Yes,” said he, “it is mine. Where did you get it?”
“Please count the money then, sir,” said honest Tim, before Berty could command her voice to answer. “I kept it for her last night. I should like you to see if it’s all right.”
“Why did you not give it to me then?” asked Dr. John, sharply, opening the pocket-book, and glancing rapidly over the contents.
“Oh, sir,” said Berty, finding her voice instantly,—“Oh, sir, you must not blame Tim; he did not know it was yours. I never told him, and he was always at me to find the owner. I meant to give it back at first, and I should, but for the Christmas tree. I wanted it so much, so very much, and I could never earn enough. I’m very, very sorry; but you must not blame Tim.”
“It is all right,” said Dr. John, nodding to Tim, and putting the purse in his pocket. “Now, Berty,” he added, soothingly, “you must not cry any more; it is all right and safe, and I’m very much obliged to you for bringing it back; it is not every one who would have done it. Stop crying now, and tell me how you got it, and about this Christmas tree. I do not understand.”
“I wanted one for the children, sir,” said Berty, composing her voice a little; “they never saw one, you see, but I did; and Madame Hansmann told them about those in the old country. So I heard them one night wishing for one,—only they said they could not have it, because they had no one but me. Then I wished so much to get one, because I promised mother to take such care of them; and I asked Biddy, and she said they cost pounds and pounds; and I did not believe quite in the fairy, so I thought I must earn it; and I felt very bad, and almost gave it up. Then I thought about Jesus, and how mother said he would be our friend; so I prayed, and I hoped he would help me. Then, the very first day, when you gave me a dime, the pocket-book came tumbling down beside me, and I did not know if it was yours; but I ran after the stage, but nobody noticed; and then I thought it might be sent because I prayed, you know,—only, when I showed it to Tim he said it was as bad as stealing. That made me angry, and I would not speak to him; but I was not happy with it at all when I meant to keep it. Then in the morning I saw you at the crossing, and I thought you were looking for me, so I ran away; and, while I was talking to the little girl, you came again, so I got all wild like, and ran into the street. Then you were so kind, I did not know about keeping it last night, only for the tree; but this morning I thought of mother, because of the feast of All-Saints, and the minister said the Commandments, and I could not keep it any longer for the children, or anybody,—don’t you see?”
I am not at all sure that Dr. John did see, for I know that his eyes were full of tears when Berty finished; but he seemed to understand quite clearly for all that.
“Yes, Berty,” said he, “I see that you have had a great temptation, and have won through it bravely. And as for Tim here, I beg his pardon; I perceive he is a very honest fellow. But he must bid you good-morning now, for I want to look at that side of yours.”
Tim felt a little disappointed that Dr. John did not offer Berty something as a reward for bringing back his money, for Tim could not bear that the Christmas tree should be given up after all; but still he had great confidence in the Doctor, and did not doubt but he would make it all right somehow. So he went away to his peddling with a light heart.