poor, and there are a lot of children
besides her. Leonora is a sweet girl--and, oh, is n't it
lovely? Dr. Dudley says now that she will get over her lameness,
and be able to walk as well as anybody!"

"That is delightful!" agreed Mrs. Jocelyn. "You shall surely get
a beautiful something for Leonora."

"Don't you think a pink hair ribbon would be nice?" Polly asked.

Her hostess smiled over the modesty of the gift, and was about to
suggest some article of jewelry; but she finally let it go as
Polly had chose, only adding on the paper, "and sash."

"We may change every one of these, when we come to the real
selection," laughed the little lady; "but the list will be a
guide."

Nobody was forgotten, not even Miss Hortensia Price, an
"Illustrated Browning" being against her name.

They were on their way shortly after one o'clock, in Mrs.
Jocelyn's stately coach, drawn by the handsome iron-grays that
were Polly's admiration. It would be hard to say which enjoyed
the shopping most, Polly in her innocent delight of giving, or
the old little lady who was fast growing young in her now-found
life. With a carriage full of bundles, they drove up to the
photographer's precisely at the hour appointed, and Polly, radiant
from her joyful experience, made a picture that charmed the artist
as well as his patron.

The next morning's musicale was quite the feast that Polly had
anticipated, and Mrs. Jocelyn's was a twofold enjoyment. The
little girl had feared that her white dress was too wrinkled for
grand a party; so her hostess's maid had smoothed it into its
original perfection, and, to make good the hair ribbon that had
been lost, Mrs. Jocelyn had bought an even prettier one--the
palest blue sprinkled with forget-me-nots, and sash too match.

After luncheon came the delightful task of giving the presents
pretty holiday touches with fancy tissue papers and gay ribbons.

"We're having the best part of it, are n't we?" chuckled Polly,
tilting her head to one side as she tied a pink baby ribbon around
Leonora's dainty box.

The little lady did not instantly answer; then, dropping her work,
she caught the surprised child in her arms with almost a sob.

"O Polly, Polly!" she cried passionately, "I must have you! I
must! I must! You have taught me how to live, and you belong to
me! O Polly! Will you come?" She held her off, gazing pleadingly
into her face.

"What--do you mean?" faltered the little girl.

"My darlin