Taking her money one day, she paid a visit to Temple Street. Michael opened the door and received her with a smile. Knowing she was in favor with his mistress, he conducted her to the sitting-room, where the portraits hung. Those roguish eyes of the lady, who somewhat resembled her mother, were fixed on her again. She was sure that her mother did not look like that picture then, but she was equally sure that she had, some time or other cast just such a glance at her. The expression of the lady found something like its counterpart in her memory. Now, her mother was sick and sad; she seldom smiled. But some time she must have been a young girl, and then she must have looked like that portrait. She felt just like asking Mrs. Gordon if that was her portrait, but she did not dare to do such a thing. While she was attentively watching the roguish lady's face, her kind friend entered the room, followed by Grace.
"How do you do, Katy?" said the former, with a benevolent smile.
"Quite well, I thank you, ma'am. I hope you will excuse me for coming again," replied she.
"I am very glad you have come."
"I was thinking of you the other day, and wishing I might see you," added Grace, "for the Mayor told us a very pretty story about you."
"He was very good to me; and I never shall forget him or you," answered Katy, warmly.
"I suppose you have come to get another receipt; but I told Dr. Flynch not to disturb you," said Mrs. Gordon.
"O, no ma'am—I didn't come for that. You were too kind to me before, and I have come now to pay you for that month's rent."
"Indeed?"
"Yes, ma'am; we have been able to earn money enough, and I am very glad that I can pay it," replied Katy, taking the four dollars from her pocket. "Here it is."