before, and Kate had carried up a note.

"We were just in time with our little spring song," she said.
"_Blue_birds have to sing early; at least a month beforehand. See
here! Is this all right?" and she put into Bel's hand a little
roughish slip of paper, upon which was printed:--

"THE CITY IN SPRING.

"It is not much that makes me glad:
I hold more than I ever had.
The empty hand may farther reach,
And small, sweet signs all beauty teach.

"I like the city in the spring,
It has a hint of everything.
Down in the yard I like to see
The budding of that single tree.

"The little sparrows on the shed;
The scrap of soft sky overhead;
The cat upon the sunny wall;
There's so much _meant_ among them all.

"The dandelion in the cleft
A broken pavement may have left,
Is like the star that, still and sweet,
Shines where the house-tops almost meet.

"I like a little; all the rest
Is somewhere; and our Lord knows best
How the whole robe hath grace for them
Who only touch the garment's hem."

At the bottom, in small capitals, was the signature,--BEL
BREE.

"I don't understand," said Bel, bewildered. "What is it? Who did
it?"

"It is a proof," said Mrs. Scherman. "A proof-sheet. And here is
another kind of proof that came with it. Your spring song is going
into the May number of 'First and Last.'"

Mrs. Scherman reached out a slip of paper, printed and filled in.

It was a publisher's check for fifteen dollars.

"You see I'm very unselfish, Bel," she said. "I'm going to work the
very way to lose you."

Bel's eyes flashed up wide at her.

The way to lose her! Why, nobody had ever got such a hold upon her
before! The printed verses and the money were wonderful surprises,
but they were not the surprise that had gone straight into her
heart, and dropped a grapple there. Mrs. Scherman had believed in
her; and she had _kissed_ her. Bel Bree would never forget that,
though she should live to sing songs of all the years.

"When you can earn money like this, of course I cannot expect to
keep you in my kitchen," said Mrs. Scherman, answering her look.

"I might never do it again in all my life," sensible Bel replied.
"And I hope you'll keep me somewhere. It wouldn't be any reason, I
think