Nora hesitated.
"What do you think it is worth?" she asked, timidly.
The customer looked surprised.
"Is there no fixed price?" he asked.
"Oh, sir," exclaimed Nora, "it is mine, you see. Mrs. Bruce let me put it in the window. I—we—my mother—"
Her cheeks were crimson. She stopped, not knowing how to continue the explanation. The young man looked at her very kindly. Something in the care-worn little face, the pathetic eagerness of the eyes, told Nora's story.
"I think," said her customer—"I think it is worth about two pounds."[1]
Nora's eyes glistened. Two pounds! She could scarcely believe her senses. Was it possible!
"Oh!" she whispered. "Is it really—do you want it so much?"
The young man laughed good-naturedly.