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Mother and daughters rarely went anywhere, but every Sunday found them attendants at a church at the other end of the city. There, on those sacred walls, hung a beautiful painting executed by their father. “This indeed is exquisite work,” said the mother, and the children fully agreed with her sentiments.

When the services were ended they all slowly wended their way through the city to their modest home. Sunday after Sunday, rain or shine, found them carrying out the same program, always returning with hearts filled with reverence and peace.

The long, weary winter nights were passed reading the books which their father had collected during his lifetime, and which, by the merest accident, had not been disposed of.

Thus they passed their days, quietly and contentedly, each one cheerfully doing her daily share of good deeds and good works in this great vineyard of the world, where we have all been placed to do our best.

Chapter II

The Picture

One day, as the mother was examining the apparel, she turned to her daughters and said: “Children, I see that your summer frocks are really very much worn and faded. As we have saved a little more than we expected, I feel that I want to reward you for your diligence and willingness in helping me so faithfully and uncomplainingly, by giving you each some money, with which to buy material for a few new dresses.” She then handed each daughter a hard-earned ten dollar bill, and said: “Select what you wish, and we can make the dresses ourselves.”

Both daughters were elated with this generous gift; and at once began to argue with each other as to the shade and material which would be most desirable, and which would also be most durable, from an economical standpoint. At last they started out to make the purchases. Soon they found themselves before a massive building, upon which was placed a sign: “Auction Sale of Paintings.” Both girls, as an artist’s daughters, had an inherited love for pictures.

“Shall we go in?” said Lottie, the elder, to Louise–“Not to buy, of course; for how could we do that? But just to look at the beautiful works.”

They stepped timidly and modestly into the great gallery where several gentlemen and many richly gowned ladies had already assembled. Lottie and Louise remained unnoticed, standing not far from the door.

The auctioneer just then raised a picture to view, and cried: “A landscape, in a handsome gold frame, by the artist Laurier–ten dollars for the first bid.”

“Hm,” said a portly gentleman, “this picture was certainly executed more hastily than any of his other works. It lacks a certain finish. However, I’m an ardent admirer of Laurier. I bid fifteen dollars.”

The children had forgotten all about their dresses, and after a moment’s whispering and hesitation, Lottie called out with a beating heart and trembling voice: “Seventeen dollars!”

Several of the ladies and gentlemen turned to see where this gentle, timid voice had come from, and noticed the poorly clad children standing so far back that they could scarcely see the picture. When the children became conscious of the many eyes fastened upon them, they turned pale. The portly gentleman, without taking any notice of them, continued: “I give nineteen dollars.”

Then Lottie said, timidly and almost inaudibly, “Twenty dollars.”

“Oh, those dear children,” said a friendly lady, “they are the artist’s daughters; let us bid no higher, so the picture may be theirs!”

Everyone was deeply affected, praised the deceased artist and father, and respected the love of his daughters.

Then the auctioneer went on calling, “twenty dollars once–twice–for the third and last time.” He then summoned Lottie, the purchaser, to take the picture.

Lottie stepped forward to the long table, and laid upon it the two ten dollar bills which her mother had given her.

“You have made a good purchase, my child,” said the portly gentleman, “and were you not the daughter of the artist, I would not have let you outbid me.”