she asked. "It's nine o'clock. You ought to have been asleep long ago."

"I couldn't go to sleep, I felt so bad," answered Polly.

"You felt so bad; where? Have you got a sore throat?" inquired Jane,
remembering that a good many of the children's illnesses began with sore
throat.

"No, 'tisn't my throat."

"Where is it, then--your stomach?"

"No, it's--it's my feelin's. I felt bad 'cause--'cause you said if I
didn't stop cryin' and be a good girl, you wouldn' ever have anythin' to
do with me any more. But I did stop, and I _have_ been a good girl
since, haven't I?"

"Yes, oh, yes, you've been good since," bending down to tuck Polly in.
As she stooped, Polly flung her arms around Jane's neck, and
whispered,--

"Do you love me just the same, Jane?"

"Yes, I guess so," replied Jane, smiling.

"I love you better 'n anybody in the world, Jane."

"And you'd choose me to be your valentine, then, wouldn't you?" laughed
Jane.

"Oh, yes, yes; and if I could only send you one of those po'try picture
things, I'd send you the most bewt'f'lest I could find. Don't you wish I
could, Jane?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"Did you ever have a valentine, Jane?"

"No, never."

"Those girls 'cross the street had 'em, and Martha had one. Why don't
you and I have 'em, Jane?"

"You 'n' I? Those girls across the street know girls and boys who have
fathers and mothers to give them money to buy valentines with."

"Why don't we know such girls and boys?"

"'Cause we don't. We're poor, and live in an Orphans' Home. Those girls
only know folks that live like themselves."

"But Martha lives right here, just where we do, and Martha had a
valentine."

"Martha's different. She's only paid for staying here to work. She's got
folks outside that she belongs to. It was a cousin of hers sent her that
valentine."

"Oh," and Polly gave a soft sigh, "I wish _we_ had folks that we
belonged to! Don't you, Jane?"

"_Don't_ I!" and as Jane said this, she dropped down upon Polly's little
bed, and covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, Jane, Janey! what's the matter? Has somebody hurted your feelings?"

"No, no," answered Jane, brokenly; "nobody in particular. I--I felt
lonesome. I do sometimes when I get to thinking I don't belong to
anybody and nobody belongs to me."

"Janey, _I_ belongs to you, don't I?" And around Jane's neck two little
arms pressed lovingly.

"You don't belong to me as a relation does. You ain't a sister or a
cou