ly nodded, and then burst out with the story of her own
valentine,--"Jus' like Janey's!"

"And who d' you s'pose sent it?" she asked confidingly, nestling against
the lady's knee.

"I think it must have been one of the good Saint Valentine's
messengers," answered the lady.

Polly's eyes opened very wide. "Saint Valentine! Tell me 'bout him," she
said.

"A very wise man has told about him,--a man by the name of
Wheatley,--and he says that this Valentine was a good bishop who lived
long ago, and so famous for his love and charity that after he died he
was called Saint Valentine, and a festival was held on his birthday,
when all the people would send love tokens to their friends."

Polly's face was radiant. "Oh, I _thought_ Valentine was a somebody very
good, and that Valentine's Day was his birthday. I asked Jane if 't
wasn't. Oh, Janey, Janey!" running to the foot of the stairs in her
excitement, "come down and hear 'bout Saint Valentine!"

"Polly!" said Mrs. Banks, reprovingly.

"Oh, don't stop her," cried the lady. "I like to hear her, and I want to
see Janey." After this there was nothing for Mrs. Banks to do but to
send for Jane. As the strong, womanly-looking girl entered the room, a
new idea entered the lady's mind. "It's the very thing," she said to
herself,--"the very thing." At that instant carriage wheels were heard
at the door, and the bell was rung sharply and impatiently. "Oh, it must
be my Elise," said the lady.

The next instant the door was opened, and in hopped--that is the only
word to use--a little lame girl of ten or eleven, lifting herself along
by a crutch. She was very pale, and her eyes were sunken with suffering;
but she looked about her with a smile, and said in a quick, lively
way,--

"I got tired of driving 'round the square waiting for you, mamma; so I
thought I'd come in."

"I'm glad you did; I wanted you to see--"

"I know--Polly! Mamma 's told me all about you, Polly, you and Jane and
the valentine; and that's Jane. How do you do, Polly? how do you do,
Jane?" nodding and laughing at them in a way that made Polly and Jane
laugh too, whereupon this odd little girl exclaimed, "That's right,
laugh, do! I like laughy folks;" and then, as she said this, her little
figure swayed and would have fallen, if Jane, who was very quick of
motion, hadn't sprung forward and caught her in her arms. The girl's
face was all puckered up into little wrinkles of pain; but as soon as
she could spe