er, a brilliant chandelier was lit, and though
the room was vacant, the furniture was so showy, and the whole so
brilliant, that the child clapped her hands in delight, and Willie could
not prevail upon her to leave the spot, until he told her that farther
down the street was another house, equally attractive, where she would
perhaps see some beautiful children.

"How do you know there'll be children there?" said she, as they walked
along.

"I don't know, certainly," said Willie; "but I think there will. They
used always to be up at the window when I came with Uncle True, last
winter."

"How many?" asked Gerty.

"Three, I believe; there was one little girl with such beautiful curls,
and such a sweet, cunning little face. She looked like a wax doll, only
a great deal prettier."

"Oh, I hope we shall see her!" said Gerty, dancing along on the tops of
her toes.

"There they are!" exclaimed Willie; "all three, I declare, just as they
used to be!"

"Where?" said Gerty; "where?"

"Over opposite, in the great stone house. Here, let's cross over. It's
muddy; I'll carry you."

Willie lifted Gerty carefully over the mud, and they stood in front of
the house. True had not yet come up. It was he that the children were
watching for. Gerty was not the only child that loved to see the lamps
lit.

It was now quite dark, so that persons in a light room could not see any
one out of doors; but Willie and Gerty had so much better chance to look
in. The mansion was a fine one, evidently the home of wealth. A clear
coal fire, and a bright lamp in the centre of the room, shed abroad
their cheerful blaze. Rich carpets, deeply-tinted curtains, pictures in
gilded frames, and huge mirrors, reflecting the whole on every side,
gave Gerty her first impressions of luxurious life. There was an air of
comfort combined with all this elegance, which made it still more
fascinating to the child of poverty and want. A table was bountifully
spread for tea; the cloth of snow-white damask, the shining plate, above
all, the home-like hissing tea-kettle, had a most inviting look. A
gentleman in gay slippers was in an easy chair by the fire; a lady in a
gay cap was superintending a servant-girl's arrangements at the
tea-table; and the children of the household, smiling and happy, were
crowded together on a window-seat, looking out, as we have just
narrated.

They were sweet, lovely-looking little creatures; especially a girl, of
the same age as G