Such friends as they grew to be—the dark-skinned, intelligent young student, and his fair little patient!
One day Gracie said to her father, “Papa, sha’n’t you pay Dr. Frank just as much for what he has done for me as you should any one else?”
Mr. Gray thought a moment, then replied:
“Yes, Gracie, I certainly shall; it is only right; he has earned it as fairly certainly as any one else could have done.”
And what a help and encouragement it was, the handsome sum which Gracie’s grateful papa paid to Dr. Frank one day. But one other day, the great tears stood in Dr. Frank’s fine dark eyes, and he couldn’t say a word for a long time, when Gracie made him a present of her five dollar bill “to buy a book with, to remember her by,” she said child-like; but when he could find his voice again, he said so sadly, that Gracie will never forget it:
“No fear that Dr. Frank will ever forget the first dear white child who ever gave him kind words and dared trust him. I am very, very grateful for dear little sissy’s dollars; but oh, the kind words are the sweetest sounds Dr. Frank has ever heard yet.”
One day Gracie asked her mother if she remembered how proudly she said she should always like white folks best.
“Yes, I remember,” replied her mother.
“So does God,” said Gracie very gently; “but I’ve been praying Him to remember it no more, for what should I have done without my good, kind Dr. Frank?”