he stopped and blushed.

"Well, what is it?" asked the minister, encouragingly.

"Ben loves to hear reading," said Polly.

"Does he? well, by that time, my little girl, I guess Ben will be
down-stairs; he's all right, Polly; don't you worry about him--and I'll
sit in the kitchen, by the bedroom door, and you can hear nicely."

So the Hendersons went away. But somehow, before they went, a good many
things found their way out of the old-fashioned chaise into the Peppers'
little kitchen.

But Polly's eyes didn't get any better, with all the care; and the lines
of worry on Mrs. Pepper's face grew deeper and deeper. At last, she just
confronted Dr. Fisher in the kitchen, one day after his visit to Polly,
and boldly asked him if they ever could be cured. "I know she's--and
there isn't any use keeping it from me," said the poor woman--"she's
going to be stone-blind!"

"My good woman," Dr. Fisher's voice was very gentle; and he took the
hard, brown hand in his own--"your little girl will not be blind; I
tell you the truth; but it will take some time to make her eyes quite
strong--time, and rest. She has strained them in some way, but she will
come out of it."

"Praise the Lord!" cried Mrs. Pepper, throwing her apron over her
head; and then she sobbed on, "and thank you, sir--I can't ever thank
you--for--for--if Polly was blind, we might as well give up!"

The next day, Phronsie, who had the doctor's permission to sit up, only
she was to be kept from taking cold, scampered around in stocking-feet
in search of her shoes, which she hadn't seen since she was first taken
sick.

"Oh, I want on my very best shoes," she cried; "can't I, mammy?"

"Oh, no, Phronsie; you must keep them nice," remonstrated her mother;
"you can't wear 'em every-day, you know."

"'Tisn't every-day," said Phronsie, slowly; "it's only one day."

"Well, and then you'll want 'em on again tomorrow," said her mother.

"Oh, no, I won't!" cried Phronsie; "never, no more to-morrow, if I can
have 'em to-day; please, mammy dear!"

Mrs. Pepper went to the lowest drawer in the high bureau, and took
therefrom a small parcel done up in white tissue paper. Slowly unrolling
this before the delighted eyes of the child, who stood patiently
waiting, she disclosed the precious red-topped shoes which Phronsie
immediately clasped to her bosom.

"My own, very own shoes! whole mine!" she cried, and trudged out into
the kitchen to put them on herself.

"Hulloa!" c