“Good-morning, Mrs. Driscoll; it is a very hot day.”
A dejected old woman rose from a stool by the counter.
“The Lord sends it, Mr. Usher. We must abide by His mercies.”
“We must indeed,” replied Usher, wagging his head.
“I thought I would come in and help you, Mrs. Driscoll, by making a little purchase.”
“You 're very kind, sir,” said the old woman, mournfully.
“What might you be asking for these two sheets of postage stamps?”
“Ten shillings, I was told, sir.”
Usher lifted up his hands pityingly and smiled.
“My dear Mrs. Driscoll, they are not worth half a crown. But I will be generous. It is one's duty to be generous to the poor and needy. I will give you five shillings.”