The old woman smiled with grim humor as she found herself quoting the
boy's favorite slang expression.

Tom laughed in spite of himself, so droll did it sound from her lips;
but at the same time he drew his jacket sleeve across his eyes, which
had grown strangely dim, and said:

"I will, Missis Barry. You may trust me: I will."

And Tom did. From that day he and the honest old apple-woman were
better friends than ever. Meanwhile her trade improved so much that
before long she was able to set up a more pretentious establishment,--a
genuine stand, with an awning to replace the faithful umbrella, which
was forthwith honorably retired from service. Here she carried on a
thriving business for several years, Tom, though now a student at St.
Jerome's College, often bought apples and peanuts of her.

"You see that old woman?" said he to a comrade one day. "Don't look
much like an angel, does she?"

His friend, glancing at the queer figure and plain, ordinary features,
was amused at the comparison.

"And yet," continued Tom, earnestly, "she proved a second Guardian
Angel to me once, and I'll bless her all my life for it."