“It must be Miss Ludolph,” thought Dennis. “And can she sing like that? What an angel true faith would make of her! Oh, how could I oversleep so!” And he dressed in breathless haste. In going down to the second floor, he found a piano open and new music upon it, which Miss Ludolph had evidently been trying; but she was not there. Yet a peculiar delicate perfume which the young lady always used pervaded the place, even as her song had seemed to pulsate through the air after it had ceased. She could not be far off. Stepping to a picture showroom over the front door, Dennis found her sitting quietly before a large painting, sketching one of the figures in it.
“I learned from my father that you were a very early riser,” she said, looking up for a moment, and then resuming her work. “I fear there is some mistake about it. If we are ever to get through rearranging the store you will have to curtail your morning naps.”
“I most sincerely beg your pardon. I never overslept so before. But I was out late last night, and passed through a most painful scene, that so disturbed me that I could not sleep till nearly morning, and I find to my great vexation that I have overslept. I promise you it shall not happen again.”
“I am not sure of that, if you are out late in Chicago, and passing through painful scenes. I should say that this city was a peculiarly bad place for a young man to be out late in.”
“It was an experience wholly unexpected to me, and I hope it may never occur again. It was a scene of trouble that I had no hand in making, but which even humanity would not permit me to leave at once.”
“Not a scene of measles or smallpox, I hope. I am told that your mission people are indulging in these things most of the time. You have not been exposed to any contagious disease?”
“I assure you I have not.”
“Very well; be ready to assist me tomorrow morning, for we have no slight task before us, and I wish to complete it as soon as possible. I shall be here at half-past six, and do not promise to sing you awake every morning. Were you not a little startled to hear such unwonted sounds echoing through the prosaic old store?”
“I was indeed. At first I could not believe that it was a human voice.”
“That is rather an equivocal compliment.”
“I did not mean to speak in compliment at all, but to say in all sincerity that I have seldom heard such heavenly music.”
“Perhaps you have never heard very much of any kind, or else your imagination overshadows your other faculties. In fact I think it does, for did you not at first regard me as a painted lady who had stepped from the canvas to the floor?”
“I confess that I was greatly confused and startled.”
“In what respect did you see such a close resemblance?”
Dennis hesitated.
“Are you not able to tell?” asked she.
“Yes,” said Dennis, with heightened color, “but I do not like to say.”
“But I wish you to say,” said she, with a slightly imperious tone.
“Well, then, since you wish me to speak frankly, it was your expression. As you stood by the picture you unconsciously assumed the look and manner of the painted girl. And all the evening and morning I had been troubling over the picture and wondering how an artist could paint so lovely a face, and make it express only scorn and pride. It seemed to me that such a face ought to have been put to nobler uses.”
Miss Ludolph bit her lip and looked a little annoyed, but turning to Dennis she said, with some curiosity: “You are not a bit like the man who preceded you. How did you come to take his place?”
“I am poor, and will gratefully do any honest work rather than beg or starve.”
“I wish all the poor were of the same mind, but, from the way they drag on us who have something to give, I think the rule is usually the other way. Very well, that will answer; since you have asked papa to let you continue to do Pat’s duties, you had better be about them, though it is not so late as you think;” and she turned to her sketching in such a way as to quietly dismiss him.
She evidently regarded him with some interest and curiosity, as a unique specimen of the genus homo, and, looking upon him as a humble dependant, was inclined to speak to him freely and draw him out for her amusement.
On going downstairs he saw that Mr. Ludolph was writing in his office. He was an early riser, and sometimes, entering the side door by a pass key before the store was opened, would secure an extra hour for business. He shook his head at Dennis, but said nothing.
By movements wonderfully quick and dexterous Dennis went through his wonted tasks, and at eight o’clock, the usual hour, the store was ready for opening.
Mr. Ludolph often caught glimpses of him as he darted to and fro, his cheeks glowing, and every act suggesting superabundant life.
He sighed and said: “After all, that young fellow
