ould not
help thinking that if she had one penny she could buy a smoked herring,
which, with a bit of bread and tea, would make a comfortable supper for
her mother, which she could relish. Had she done right? But one more
thought of the children and grown people who have not the Bible,--who
know nothing of the golden city with its gates of pearl, and are nowise
fit to enter by those pure entrances where "nothing that defileth" can
go in,--and Nettie wished no more for a penny back that she had given to
bring them there. She hugged herself in her cloak, and as she went quick
along the darkening ways, the light from that city seemed to shine in
her heart and make warmth through the cold. She was almost sorry to go
to Mr. Jackson's shop; it had grown rather a disagreeable place to her
lately. It was half full of people, as usual at that hour.

"What do you want?" said Mr. Jackson, rather curtly, when Nettie's turn
came and she had told her errand. "What!" he exclaimed, "seven pounds of
meal and a pound of butter, and two pounds of sugar! Well, you tell your
father that I should like to have my bill settled; it's all drawn up,
you see, and I don't like to open a new account till it's all square."

He turned away immediately to another customer, and Nettie felt she had
got her answer. She stood a moment, very disappointed, and a little
mortified, and somewhat downhearted. What should they do for supper? and
what a storm there would be when her father heard about all this and
found nothing but bread and tea on the table. Slowly Nettie turned away,
and slowly made the few steps from the door to the corner. She felt very
blue indeed; coming out of the warm store the chill wind made her
shiver. Just at the corner somebody stopped her.

"Nettie!" said the voice of the little French baker, "what ails you? you
look not well."

Nettie gave her a grateful smile, and said she was well.

"You look not like it," said Mme. Auguste; "you look as if the wind
might carry you off before you get home. Come to my house--I want to see
you in the light."

"I haven't time; I must go home to mother, Mrs. August."

"Yes, I know! You will go home all the faster for coming this way first.
You have not been to see me in these three or four weeks."

She carried Nettie along with her; it was but a step, and Nettie did not
feel capable of resisting anything. The little Frenchwoman put her into
the shop before her, made her sit down, and lighted a