"No trouble," he replied. "I have a better job."
"What is it?"
"I'm going to be a newspaper artist for a while on the World."
"When did you find that out?" she asked, brightening, for she had been terribly depressed over their state.
"This afternoon. I'm going to work Monday. Twenty-five dollars will be some better than nine, won't it?"
Angela smiled. "It certainly will," she said, and tears of thanksgiving filled her eyes.
Eugene knew what those tears stood for. He was anxious to avoid painful reminiscences.
"Don't cry," he said. "Things are going to be much better from now on."
"Oh, I hope so, I hope so," she murmured, and he patted her head affectionately as it rested on his shoulder.
"There now. Cheer up, girlie, will you! We're going to be all right from now on."