"No, she don't; she has got her coal all in; and this isn't her coal at all; it is in big lumps some of it, like what came for the grate, and it isn't shiny like the stove coal. It must be for you, I guess."
Rotha ran down to see, and came back with the receipt for her mother to sign. Mrs. Carpenter signed with a trembling hand, and Rotha flew away again.
"It is a whole cart-load, mother," she said coming back.
"There is one good rich man in New York," said Mrs. Carpenter tremulously.
"Do you think he is rich?"
"I fancy so."
"He hasn't spent so very much on us, has he?" asked Rotha consideringly.
"It seems much to me. More than our share, I am afraid."
"Our share of what?"
"His kindness."