n you say you don't think she's pretty? I admire her looks!"

"You always do manage, Kitty, to _admire_ people that everybody else
thinks are horrid-looking."

"Horrid-looking!" replied Kitty; "she's anything but _horrid-looking_!
Do notice, now, Belle, when we meet them, she has the _sweetest_ way of
looking up in the old man's face, and talking to him. I _wonder_ what is
the matter with him! Do see how his arm shakes--the one that's passed
through hers!"

The two couples are now close to each other, and they pass in silence.

"_Don't you_ think that she has an interesting face?" said Kitty,
eagerly, as soon as they were out of hearing.

"She's got handsome eyes," answered Belle. "I don't see anything else
that looks interesting about her. I _wonder_ if she don't hate to walk
in the street with that old grandfather; trudging along so slow, with
the sun shining in her face, and he leaning on her arm, and shaking so
that he can hardly keep on his feet! Catch me doing it."

"Why, Belle!" exclaimed Kitty, "how can you talk so? I'm sure I pity
that old man dreadfully."

"Lor!" said Belle, "what's the use of pitying? If you are going to begin
to pity, you'll have to do it all the time. Look,"--Belle touched her
companion's elbow--"there's Willie Sullivan, father's clerk: an't he a
beauty? I want to speak to him."

But before she could address a word to him, Willie, who was walking very
fast, passed her with a bow, and a pleasant "Good morning, Miss Isabel;"
and ere she had recovered from the surprise and disappointment, was some
rods down the street.

"Polite!" muttered the pretty Isabel.

"Why, Belle! do see," said Kitty, who was looking back over her
shoulder, "he's overtaken the old man and my interesting little girl.
Look--look! He's put the old man's other arm through his, and they are
all three walking off together. Isn't that quite a coincidence?"

"Nothing very remarkable," replied Belle, who seemed a little annoyed.
"I suppose they are persons he's acquainted with. Come, make haste; we
shall be late at school."

Reader! Do _you wonder_ who they are, the girl and the old man? or have
you already conjectured that they are Gerty and Trueman Flint? True is
no longer the brave, strong, sturdy protector of the lonely child. True
has had a paralytic stroke. His strength is gone, his power even to walk
alone. He sits all day in his arm-chair, or on the old settle, when he
is not out walking with Gerty. The blo