"Get it published as a holiday souvenir, and make it pay me a handsome sum for my trouble," Virgie responded, in a business-like tone, and then was half-frightened at her own boldness.
The publisher's eyes twinkled with amusement.
"What would you consider a handsome sum?" he inquired.
Virgie thought a moment; then she replied:
"You have offered one, two, and three hundred dollars as prizes for the simple souvenirs described in your advertisement, and surely a work like this must be worth much more."
"Very true; but will you name some price for it? I confess that I should like to take it, if you do not value it too highly."
Virgie was astonished at this.
She had not expected to be allowed to name her own price. She had supposed, if her work was approved at all, to receive some moderate offer, which she could accept or decline as she saw fit.
But she shrank from setting a value upon her work. It was her first effort, and she had no more idea of its worth, as a work of art, than a child.
"Sir," she returned, "I will tell you frankly that I never did anything of the kind before; that is, I have never attempted to dispose of any of my work and I do not know what it ought to bring me. I have been suddenly thrown upon my own resources, and it occurred to me that I might turn my one talent to some account."