Year: 1869

"She is sick, then?'


"Yesm. She didn't feel we'll enough to come.
1t has been hard getting along all summer, tor the
ladies she works for were almost all out OF town,
and some of them owing her and s'pose the
worry and not having much to eat did it ma am. y


Mrs. Stirling leaned toward the little creature,
and looked at her more closely. Could it be hun
GER she thought, that made those blue eyes look so
large and the skin so transparent? Was this little
thing actually suffering for Bread and she going
to spend FIVE hundred dollars in one evening, feast
ing those who never felt want even of dainties
She knew not what thoughts had been in her hus-
bands mind when he spoke of suffering among
the poor. She said pleasantly:


"Well, child, you must have some luncheon, and
then will 60 with you to see your sister. l had
better speak to her about the work.


Isn't it right? Can't you pay herr" The
child gave a start of alarm and spoke with the
premature womanliness and natural apprehensions
of misfortune which are among the saddest fruits
of poverty.


Mrs. Stirling relieved her with ready sympathy.


Eyes, indeed, the work is all right. It's done
beautifully; butt want to see your sister about
some more, and perhaps I can do her good


1t would have made the kind hdy's heart ache
could she have seen the eagerness with which the
half.famished child devoured the lunch which was
set before her in the kitchen.


In a few moments they were ready to start.
Mrs. Stirling had replaced her velvet mantle with
a Scotch shawl her French hat by simple straw;
and with basket III her hand containing few
dainties with which she hoped to tempt the sick
girls palate she followed the child across the city
toward c. street-a locality hitherto terra ul-
cogntta to her.


In half lfdilapidated wooden house, in narrow
court, she found the object Of her search. She
went up two flights Of stairs and entered back
room lighted by one window. The atmosphere
struck her, in spite other warm attire, with sud-
den chill.


Evidently the sun never came there. The damp
ness on the wall, the general aspect of gloom and
cheeressness, was only relieved by air of scru-
pulous neatness which pervaded everything Mrs.
Stirling had already noticed this quality in the at
tire of the child, which, though cheap and poor
and patched, was as immaculate in its ceanness as
her own.


At the window, attempting to sew, the older
sister sat, but she was evidently very ILL., Every
now and then spasm of coughing seized her,
which compelled her to lay down her work and
clasp both her hands to her side, while the pale
ness of her thin cheek flushed into hectic. Mrs.
Stirling had not seen her before since spring, the
work returned that morning having been sent by a
servant She went to her and sat down in q chair
which stood near.


'Your sister said you were sick, and so came
to see if could be of any use to you, she said,
in gentle tones, which, of themselves, carried a
certain comfort with them. "You have changed
terribly since spring. l must hear all about it
but want you should eat what have brought
you; here is some jelly, and bit of cold chicken
they will do you good. ~


The poor girl looked at the viands with the in
voluntary greediness Of hunger. Then she blushed
deeply, and said in low voice:


Il am very grateful, madam but if you please
I will wait until you leave me- Allow me at pres
ent to attend to you.


"No, indeed !" Mrs Stirling spoke in her
pretty absolute fashion. II am not going yet. |
want to talk with you while, and l shall not do
so until you have taken something to strengthen
YOU Little Jane has lunched already"


So the gay, bright lady sat, and waited, feeling,
in the new prospect of being actively useful, gen.
uine glow of delight. When the girl had finished
her generous meal and taken up her work again,
Mrs. Stirling began to talk to her.


"Is this consumption Annie" she asked gent,
ly "Your cough alarms me'


''No ma am, am very sure tits nothing OF the
kind yet There is no consumption IN our family.
NV father was country minister, and had strong
and healthy constitution He died young, but it
was from violent fever, caught in attendance on
sick stranger think it was grief which made
my mother follow him in three months. She had
always been delicate, though not sckly, and she
lacked the strength it required to live and suffer
1t is seven years since she died, on the very day
little Jane was born.


"How old were you then -


Fifteen, and there were no living children be
tween us two


"And you have supported yourself and her evel
since?"


"Oh no. My fathers books and furniture sole
for enough to keep US some time, and my aunt
who lived here, brought US to Boston. We botf
lived with her. She took care OF Jane, and
worked in shop, and earned enough to buy oul
clothes and help Aunt Martha with the living. Il
is only since she died-three years ago, that have
been all alone with Jenny


'sYou came out of the shop then?''


eyes, because l could not have Jenny there
with me, and she had no one else to see to her
and indeed have made more money since, l have
embroidered so much


but surely you have suffered more than usua
this summer"


ooh! yes, ma am. The ladies that work fo
are mostly out of town in the summer always, ane
50 winters l try to save something to help u
through. But last winter was so hard that | hat
not as much work as usual, and this summer We
have not been very well off. l had to give up tht
comfortable room used to have, because l coulc
not earn enough to pay for it, and l suppose tht
ldamnness here has not lust agreed with me.