he spoke, yet she seemed
sad-like."

"Are you the little girl I saw here about a year ago?" says she.

"May be I am, marm," says I; "cos I'm pretty well allers here, leastway
in the mornings."

She looked at me a bit, and then she says--

"'I should not have thought to find you such a big girl in so short a
time. Do you remember me? I bought some violets, and you told me your
name, and where you lived; indeed I should have come to see you long ago
as I promised, but was obliged to go abroad suddenly with my own little
girl.'

"And then I thought she was going to cry, she looked so sad," added
Sally, "and she said"----

"'But God took her home.'"

"Poor dear lady!" was the exclamation of Sally's attentive listeners.

"Even the rich have troubles also," said Mrs. Turner with a pitying
sigh.

"Wait a bit, I 'aint told you all yet," cried the girl; "well, I just
then thought of what Pollie told us about the lady who gave her a
shilling the very first day she went with me selling violets. So I
says--

"It warn't me, marm, you saw that day; it was little Pollie!"

"'Yes, that was the name,' says she; 'and where is little Pollie?'

"With that I up and told her as how Pollie wasn't well, and so she says,
'I will come to see her directly I have finished my business in the
City.' Oh, Lor'!" cried Sally, suddenly pausing in her story, "here she
be, I'm sure, for there's some one coming up the stairs with Mrs.
Flanagan, some one who don't wear big heavy boots too; can't you hear?"

Sally was right; for the kindly face of their neighbour appeared in the
doorway, ushering in "the beautiful lady."

"And so this is little Pollie," the sweet voice said, as, after speaking
cheerfully to the widow and the others who were in the room, she stood
beside the sick child. "Well, Pollie, I have come to see you at last,
and in return for the beautiful violets you gave me a year ago, I will,
with our merciful Father's blessing us, put some roses on your white
cheeks."

* * * * *

My story is told!

In a pretty lodge close to the gates of a magnificent park live Pollie
and her dear long-suffering mother, but now as happy as it is possible
for mortals to be. The widow continues her needlework, not as formerly,
"to keep the wolf from the door," but merely for their beloved lady, or
what is required for the house. Pollie, whose cheeks are now truly rosy,
goes every day to school, and when at home h