he side of True.

Willie did not overtake them until they were nearly home, and then came
running up, exclaiming, breathlessly, "Why, Gerty, do you know what you
did?--You broke the window!"

Gerty jerked her shoulders from side to side to avoid Willie, pouted,
and declared that was what she meant to do.

True inquired what window? and Gerty acknowledged what she had done, and
avowed that she did it on purpose. True and Willie were shocked and
silent. Gerty was silent too, for the rest of the walk; there were
clouds on her face, and she felt unhappy in her little heart.

Willie bade them good night at the house door, and as usual they saw no
more of him for a week.

CHAPTER VIII.

A NEW FRIEND.

"Father," said Mrs. Sullivan, one afternoon, as he was preparing to take
a number of articles which he wanted for his Saturday's work in the
church, "why don't you get little Gerty to go with you, and carry some
of your things? You can't take them all at once; and she'd like to go, I
know."

"She'd only be in the way," said Mr. Cooper; "I can take them myself."

But when he had swung a lantern and an empty coal hod on one arm, taken
a little hatchet and a basket of chips in his hand, and hoisted a small
ladder over his shoulder, he was fain to acknowledge that there was no
accommodation for his hammer and a large paper of nails. Mrs. Sullivan
called Gerty, and asked her to go and help him carry his tools. Gerty
was pleased with the proposal, and started off with great alacrity.

When they reached the church the old sexton took them from her hands,
and telling her she could play about until he went home, but to be sure
and do no mischief, he went into the vestry to commence sweeping,
dusting, and building fires. Gerty had ample amusement for some time, to
wander round among the empty aisles and pews, and examine closely what,
hitherto, she had only viewed from a corner of the gallery. Then she
ascended the pulpit, and in imagination addressed a large audience. She
was growing weary and restless, however, when the organist, who had
entered unseen, commenced playing some low, sweet music; and Gerty,
seating herself on the pulpit stairs, listened with the greatest
pleasure. He had not played long before the door opened and two visitors
entered. One was an elderly man, dressed like a clergyman, with hair
thin and grey, and features rather sharp; but remarkable for his
benignant expression of countenance. A young l