Yet it made an
impression upon her so far unlike that of a leaf that for a moment more
she fixed on it a still keener look of unconsciously expectant eyes, and
saw only that it looked--perhaps a little larger than most of the other
leaves, but as brown and dead as they. Almost the same instant, however,
she turned and pounced upon it, and, the moment she handled it, became
aware that it felt less crumbly and brittle than the others looked, and
then saw clearly that it was not a leaf, but perhaps a rag, or possibly
a piece of soiled and rumpled paper. With a curiosity growing to
expectation, and in a moment to wondering recognition, she proceeded to
uncrumple it carefully and smooth it out tenderly; nor was the process
quite completed when she fell upon her knees on the cold flags, her
little cloak flowing wide from the clasp at her neck in a yet wilder
puff of the bitter wind; but suddenly remembering that she must not be
praying in the sight of men, started again to her feet, and, wrapping
her closed hand tight in the scanty border of her cloak, hurried, with
the pound-note she had rescued, to the friend whose need was sorer than
her own--not without an undefined anxiety in her heart whether she was
doing right. How much good the note did, or whether it merely fell into
the bottomless gulf of irremediable loss, I cannot tell. Annie's friend
and her shiftless mate at once changed their dirty piece of paper for
silver, bought food and railway tickets, left the town, and disappeared
entirely from her horizon.
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