Now, with the little key to
remind him, he was oftener on the lookout for opportunities, and as
the months passed his grandfather was heard to say: "Isaac is a fine
boy, only a little mischievous," and Mrs. Ford added: "Yes, he is
really growing like his father."
The letters that found their way across the sea were not homesick in
these days, and Ikey's mother ceased to worry about him.
In ways like these the silver keys did their work. Their owners did
not forthwith turn into models of helpfulness and unselfishness; such
things need time to grow, and this is exactly what they began to do.
Only little sprouts, hardly to be noticed at first, they gave promise
of being sturdy plants some day.
CHAPTER XXI.
WORK AND PLAY.
Miss Brown sat in her accustomed place by the window, where the sun
was pouring in in a springlike way, though it was only February. Her
sitting-room wore a festive air; the curtains looked crisp and white
as if they were just hung, the old mahogany shone with more than its
ordinary lustre, and on a table at her side stood a bowl filled with
white carnations. She looked about her with happy eyes, for she had
been away a month and had discovered that there was no place like
home, after all.
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