xquisite taste and
feeling.

Mrs. Kent whispered that Jenny must be weary now, and Fanny took the
hand of the sick girl, to bid her good by.

"Good by, Fanny. I shall never see you again; but we shall meet in
heaven," said Jenny, with her sweetest smile.

"I will come and see you again, if I can."

"How happy it would make me!"

"Perhaps I will come again to-day."

"I'm afraid if you don't, I shall never see you in this world again."

"I will come to-day."

"Good by," added Jenny, languidly, as Fanny followed Mrs. Kent out of
the room.

"Isn't there anything I can bring to her?" asked Fanny, when they had
passed into the other room.

"I don't know. Poor child! she knows how little I can do for her, and
she never says she wants anything. She is very fond of flowers, and
Eddy used to bring her dandelion blossoms, but these are all gone now."

"I will bring her some flowers," replied Fanny, who could not help
wishing for some of the beautiful flowers which grew in such profusion
at Woodville.

But to her Woodville now seemed as far off as the heaven of which she
had been singing to the dying girl; but she thought she could obtain
some flowers in the city; and she felt as though she would give all the
rest of her ill-gotten treasure for a single bouquet.

Fanny begged Mrs. Kent to tell her if there was anything she could do
for the sick daughter, or for the family; and the poor woman confessed
that she had nothing in the house to eat except half a loaf of bread,
which was to be their dinner. Lest her visitor should think her
destitution was caused by her own fault, she related the story of
hardships she had undergone since her husband departed with his
regiment.

Mr. Kent was a mechanic, and having been thrown out of employment by
the dull times at the commencement of the war, he had enlisted in one
of the regiments that departed earliest for the scene of hostilities.
He had left his family with only a small sum of money, and had promised
to send all his pay to his wife, as soon as it was received. Mr. Kent's
regiment had been engaged in the disastrous battle of Bull Run, since
which he had not been heard from. It was known that he had been taken
prisoner, but when exchanges were made he did not appear. His wife was
unwilling to believe that he was dead, and still hoped for tidings of
him.

Jenny was sick when her father departed, but it was not supposed to be
a dangerous illness; perhaps it would not h