uture.

So the summer passed by, and autumn came, and now, instead of roses or
pinks, Pollie's basket was filled with chrysanthemums and dahlias. She
often wondered what she should do when winter came and there were no
sweet flowers to sell. It grieved her to think she should not then be
able to help her dear mother, and as usual she opened her heart to that
loving parent.

"Ah, my Pollie!" said the mother, as she smoothed back the curls from
the anxious little face, "have you forgotten? 'The Lord will provide.'"

Then the child was comforted, for she remembered that "There is no want
to them that fear Him."

One October evening she turned up Russell Court, tired and anxious to
get home, for it had been a dull, dark day in the City, and she had not
succeeded in disposing of her flowers there. The old bankers and
merchants seemed not disposed for purchasing bouquets that day. Even
Sally's basket still remained filled, and she was always a more
successful seller than timid little Pollie; so the elder girl had
proposed trying westward for better luck. Better luck they certainly
had, for their baskets became empty at last, but they walked many a mile
during the day, and Pollie's tiny feet were very, very weary, as bidding
her friend a loving "good-night" she turned her steps towards home,
eagerly longing for its rest and shelter.

The gas was flaring in Drury Lane, so that Russell Court looked dark by
comparison; but as she approached the house in which they lived, she was
surprised to see a dense crowd gathered around the door. Men were there
speaking in hoarse whispers, women talking with bated breath as though
afraid to speak aloud, and the bewildered child could hardly fancy it
was the same place, there was such a hushed commotion as it were; the
crowd swaying to and fro, to give place to others who came to swell the
excited throng.

Little Pollie stood amidst the people who were hustling each other to
get as near the door as possible. What was to be done? how was she to
get into the house? and oh, how anxious her mother would be at her long
absence! The poor child became frightened, almost to tears, totally
unable to force her way through the mob, which was increasing every
moment, when looking round for some friendly aid, she saw to her delight
Mrs. Smith, the greengrocer's wife, standing close by, with a shawl
thrown over her head, talking to a policeman, and pointing excitedly
towards the house.

Pollie wen