e no other
warm place to put her, and no money for a new paper. Poor lass! There
are hard times before her, I'm fearing."

Mrs. Pecq said this in a low voice to Mrs. Minot, who came in as often
as she could, to see what her neighbor needed; for both mothers were
anxious, and sympathy drew them to one another. While one woman talked,
the other looked about the little room, not wondering in the least that
Jill found it hard to be contented there. It was very neat, but so plain
that there was not even a picture on the walls, nor an ornament upon the
mantel, except the necessary clock, lamp, and match-box. The paper _was_
ugly, being a deep buff with a brown figure that did look very like
spiders sprawling over it, and might well make one nervous to look at
day after day.

Jill was asleep in the folding chair Dr. Whiting had sent, with a
mattress to make it soft. The back could be raised or lowered at will;
but only a few inches had been gained as yet, and the thin hair pillow
was all she could bear. She looked very pretty as she lay, with dark
lashes against the feverish cheeks, lips apart, and a cloud of curly
black locks all about the face pillowed on one arm. She seemed like a
brilliant little flower in that dull place,--for the French blood in her
veins gave her a color, warmth, and grace which were very charming. Her
natural love of beauty showed itself in many ways: a red ribbon had
tied up her hair, a gay but faded shawl was thrown over the bed, and the
gifts sent her were arranged with care upon the table by her side among
her own few toys and treasures. There was something pathetic in this
childish attempt to beautify the poor place, and Mrs. Minot's eyes were
full as she looked at the tired woman, whose one joy and comfort lay
there in such sad plight.

"My dear soul, cheer up, and we will help one another through the hard
times," she said, with a soft hand on the rough one, and a look that
promised much.

"Please God, we will, mem! With such good friends, I never should
complain. I try not to do it, but it breaks my heart to see my little
lass spoiled for life, most like;" and Mrs. Pecq pressed the kind hand
with a despondent sigh.

"We won't say, or even think, that, yet. Everything is possible to youth
and health like Janey's. We must keep her happy, and time will do the
rest, I'm sure. Let us begin at once, and have a surprise for her when
she wakes."

As she spoke, Mrs. Minot moved quietly about the