ed
about the "angel child," as she called her departed darling.

"She was too good for this world, Miss Jennie," said she; and then the
faithful old creature rocked to and fro as she sat upon the trunk of a
tree that had fallen down, and wiped her eyes with her clean
checked-apron, sobbing as if her grief was even then but new.

"You are just like her in all your little ways," continued she, as
Jennie stole up to her and patted her black head with her tiny hand, as
if to soothe her sorrows; "Missus would have been clean gone and done
with this life if she had not lighted upon you to take the sadness out
of her heart for her Bella."

"But, Nannie, I am not Bella," said the child. "Do you think I can ever
be as dear as she was, so that her mother may forget that she is dead? I
saw her weeping the other day as she came from the grove, and I was
afraid she did not love me, and was sorry I was here to make her think
of her loss."

"Not love you, Miss Jennie! how can you say so, when she took you, poor
little beggar as you was, all from the mire and dirt to be her own
child."

"You must not tell me of that time, Nannie, it makes me ache here;" said
she, putting her hand to her heart. "Many a long day have I gone back
and forth on that sad walk, trembling for fear the lumbering omnibuses
would run over me, and not one penny did I ever ask, for I could not
beg, Nannie, and if some kind gentlemen and ladies had not noticed me,
and sometimes given me a sixpence or two, I should have gone home to my
poor father and mother with nothing for my hard day's work, and then we
must have starved, for dear mamma was not able to get bread for us all,
and nurse my sick father besides. You must not speak of that time again,
Nannie, for it takes me away from this pleasant sunny spot, and puts me
back in a dismal room, with no light, nor warmth, nor greenness."

"What is the matter with my little girl?" said Mrs. Dunmore, who just
then approached the child, and perceived the traces of recent tears on
her sweet face. "Is she not happy among the birds, and squirrels, and
flowers?"

"Oh! yes, very happy indeed, dear mamma," and Jennie took the hand that
was extended to her, and kissed it with all the ardor of her impetuous
nature; "but I was thinking of the dreary home that was mine before you
found me and cared for me."

"Sit down here, my darling, and talk to me a little. Is the thought of
the past very sad to my Jennie; and can she se