Nettie's ear, and she turned to encounter a pair of pleading blue eyes
gazing into hers, while the plaintive voice repeated, "Please buy a
little bunch of flowers; I haven't sold one to-day, and Minna wants an
orange so much."

It was a pitiful little figure that stood there, with an old shawl over
her head, and her feet hardly protected from the icy pavement by a pair
of miserable ragged shoes, while the tiny hands, purple with cold, held
a small pine board on which were fastened small bouquets of rose-buds,
violets, and other flowers, which she tried to sell to the passers-by,
most of whom, however, pushed her rudely aside or passed indifferently
by.

"Who is Minna?" asked Nettie, gently, after a moment's survey of the
little girl.

"She is mine sister, and she is so bad, so very bad, with the fever. She
cried all last night with thirst, and begged me to bring her an orange
to cool her tongue. Please, miss, buy some of my flowers."

Nettie's tender heart was touched, and her eyes filled with tears in
sympathy with the poor child, who was now crying bitterly. "Has she been
sick very long?" she asked.

"Oh yes; and the Herr Doctor says she will die if she does not have wine
to strengthen her. But where could we get wine? The mother can hardly
pay the rent, and I sell flowers to buy bread; but I can only make two
or three cents on a bunch, and some bad days they fade before I can get
rid of them; so I'm afraid Minna must die. But please give me enough to
get her an orange."

"An orange! of course I will," exclaimed Nettie; "and more than one.
Come with me;" and she caught the child eagerly by the hand, and drew
her toward the street. At this moment, however, her eye fell on the
valentines in the window, and she stopped, hesitating. Should she give
up the pretty gifts for her little friends, and lose half of the
evening's anticipated enjoyment, or should she let this poor girl--of
whose existence she was ignorant five minutes before--go home
empty-handed to her sick sister? There was an instant of sharp conflict
as she thought of how mean she should appear in her school-mates' eyes,
and then, with a resolute air, Nettie turned her back on the fascinating
window, and conducted the little flower girl to a fruit store near at
hand.

A basket was supplied by the kind-hearted proprietor of the store, to
whom Nettie explained what she wanted, and this she filled with golden
Havana oranges and rich clusters of white gr