and here is a note for you; and you must dress up, Lisa, when you
go to see our new friend."

Lisa looked down at her shabby garments; they were all she had; but she
did not tell Phil that her only black silk had been sold long ago. She
read the note, and her face brightened. There seemed a chance of better
things for Phil.

"I will go to-night, if you can spare me."

"Not till you have rested, Lisa; and you must drink all that milk your
own self. Did you ever hear of Miss Schuyler?"

"I don't know," said Lisa, meditating; "the name is not strange to me.
But there used to be so many visitors at your father's house, Phil dear,
that I cannot be sure."

"She is so nice and tender and kind--Have you had a tiresome day, Lisa,"
added Phil, quickly, fearing Lisa might think herself neglected in his
eager praise of the new friend.

"Yes, rather; but I can go. So Joe brought her here?"

"Yes; and see these flowers--yes, you must have some. Put them in your
belt, Lisa."

"Oh, flowers don't suit my old clothes, child; keep them yourself, dear.
Well, it is a long lane that has no turning," she said, half to herself
and half to Phil. "Perhaps God has sent us Miss Schuyler to do for you
what I have not been able to; but I have tried--he knows I have."

"And I know it too, dear Lisa," said Phil pulling her down to him, and
throwing both arms around her. "No one could be kinder, Lisa; and I
love this old garret room, just because it is your home and mine. Now
get me my harp, and when you have put it in the window you can go; and I
will try not to have any pain, so that you won't have to rub me
to-night."

"Dear child!" was all Lisa could say, as she did what he asked her to
do, and then left him alone.

CHAPTER IV

A PROMISE OF BETTER TIMES

When Phil was alone again, he waited impatiently for the long twilight
to end in darkness, and the stars to come out. It seemed a very long
time. Once in a while a faint murmur came from his harp, but it was a
mere breathing of sound, and he turned restlessly in his chair. Then he
closed his eyes and waited again, and his waiting was rewarded by a
small voice in his ear whispering,

"Here we are! here we are!"

"Oh," said Phil, "I thought you never would come again."

"Tut, tut, child, you must not be so doubtful," said the little voice
again, and the starry coronet gleamed in his eyes. "I have brought you
some sweet odors of wild-flowers, and spicy breath of pine and h