“Oh, how frightened I was!” exclaimed Nettie, as her mother applied some healing salve to a slight burn on her arm; “how frightened I was, at that fire!”

“You mean, how frightened you were after the fire,” replied her mother, smiling; “you were so bewildered, waking up out of that sound sleep, that I fancy you did not understand much about the danger till after good Johnny Galt saved you.”

“If I did not love Neddy so much, I should certainly give Johnny Galt my picture,” said Nettie, with a sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

“I will see that Johnny Galt is rewarded,” replied Ruth. “But this is the day Mr. Walter was to have come. I hope Johnny Galt will meet him at the DÉpÔt as he promised, else he will be so alarmed about our safety when he learns of the fire. Dear me! how the rain comes down, it looks as though it meant to persevere.”

“Yes, and pour-severe too,” said Nettie, with an arch look at her mother.

Katy and Ruth had not finished laughing at this sally, when Mr. Walter was announced.

His greeting was grave, for he trembled to think of the danger they had escaped. After mutual congratulations had been exchanged, a detailed account of their escape given, and Johnny Galt’s heroism duly extolled, Mr. Walter said:

“Well, I am glad to find you so comfortably housed after the fire; but the sooner I take all of you under my charge, the better, I think. What do you say to starting for —— to-morrow? Are you sufficiently recovered from your fright and fatigue?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Ruth, laughing; “do we not look as good as new? Our wardrobe, to be sure, is in rather a slender condition; but that is much easier remedied than a slender purse, as I have good reason to know.”

“Very well, then,” said Mr. Walter; “it is understood that we go to-morrow. I have some business to look after in the morning; shall you object to waiting till after dinner?”

“Not at all,” replied Ruth. “In my opinion nothing can equal the forlornness of forsaking a warm bed, to start breakfastless on a journey, with one’s eyes half open.”

“‘Floy,’” said Mr. Walter, taking a package from his pocket, “I have obeyed your directions, and here is something which you may well be proud of;” and he handed Ruth a paper. It ran thus:

“There,” said Mr. Walter, laughing, “imagine yourself, if you can, in that dismal attic one year ago, a bank-stock holder! Now confess that you are proud of yourself.”

“We are proud of her,” said the talkative Nettie; “if she is not proud of herself. Don’t you think it is too bad, Mr. Walter, that mamma won’t let Katy and me tell that ‘Floy’ is our mother? A little girl who lived at the hotel that was burnt up, said to Katy, that her uncle had just given her Life Sketches for a birth-day present, and told her that she must try and write as well as ‘Floy’ one of these days; and Katy looked at me, and I looked at Katy; and oh, isn’t it too bad, Mr. Walter, that mamma won’t let us tell, when we want to so much?”

“Well,” said Mr. Walter, laughing, “I have only one little remark to make about that, namely, I have no doubt you two young ladies discovered some time before I did, that when your mamma says No, there is an end to all argument.”