n told her that "Sary was a good woman, yes, a
very good woman."

"Mother dear," she said, upon entering their one poverty-stricken, but
scrupulously neat, little room, "I'm going to deliver a package over on
Lake Avenue for Mis' Gray, and will not be back for about an hour and a
half, she told me to tell you; and she gave me ten cents, too. Ain't
that nice? I'm going to get some beefsteak, and she'll broil it.

"But, mother, she said something about your going away, and didn't know
what would become of me. You won't move, will you, without taking me
along? I don't know what she could have meant. What did she mean,
anyhow? Why do you cry, mother dear?" tremulously inquired the child,
rushing impulsively up to the side of the bed.

"We'll talk when you come back, darling. Kiss me, my precious"; and the
sufferer fell back upon her pillow, coughing violently, and moaning for
very agony of spirit.

With a heart heavier than the huge package, Rosa sped down the steep
stairway, out into the bitter December weather.

"Oh," she said, half audibly, "how cold it is! I'm glad I haven't far to
go to take the car."

Quickly her nimble feet carried her, and in a few minutes she was
scrutinizing the faces of her fellow-passengers. Sitting across the
aisle from her was a young lady, who to Rosa seemed the embodiment of
beauty and elegance. While intently studying the fair face and neat
costume, this object of her admiration suddenly crossed the car and sat
down by her side. The sweet smile and cordial greeting made the child
forget her timidity, and soon the two were conversing most familiarly.

"And so you are going to deliver that package over on Lake Avenue, are
you?"

"Yes'm, and Mis' Gray gave me ten cents fer it, too. I'm going to get
some steak, and she will broil it for mother's supper. Ain't that nice?
I'd think I'd be happy, but I ain't a bit. I keep wondering what she
meant about mother going away, and she didn't know what would become of
me. Why, lady, mother just can't move now; she's sick and has a dreadful
cough! She hasn't even been in to see grandpa and Mis' Gray for a long
time. Then I know, anyhow, she'd never go and leave me. Of course she
wouldn't, for we're always together. She couldn't get along without me,
'cause I take care of her, and I know I couldn't get along without her
at all. Mis' Gray ought to know that, for we've lived by her a long
time. What do you 'spose she meant? I can't think about anyth