eady begun to learn dressmaking, and was what people
called 'handy with her needle,' so she was thought a great deal of at
home and was neither timid nor shy. Letty was not clever in any way, and
very timid--her pleasures were of a kind that her life made impossible
for her. She liked beautiful things, she liked soft lovely colours, and
gentle voices and tender music. Rough tones really hurt her, and ugly
things caused her actual pain. Sometimes when her mother told her to go
out and walk with the others, she just begged to stay at home, without
being able to say why, for she could not have explained how the sight of
the dark, grey streets of houses dulled her, how the smoke-dried grass
that had never had a chance of being green in the fields a little way
out of the town, and the dreadful black-looking river that some old, old
men in the town still remembered a clear sparkling stream, made her
perfectly miserable. It was strange, for she had never known anything
else--she had never seen the real country--all her life she had lived, a
poor stunted little plant, in the same dingy little house, with the
small rooms and steep, narrow staircase, and with a sort of constant
untidiness about it, in spite of her poor mother's care and striving.
But nobody thought much about poor Letty--she was humble and
sweet-tempered and never put herself forward, and so it never entered
any one's head to wonder if she was happy or not.

"One day her mother sent her a message--and as it was a message, of
course Letty never thought of saying she would rather not go--to a house
further out of the town than Letty had ever been alone, and as it was
rather a fine day, that is to say, it was not raining, and up in the sky
about the place where the sun ought to be there was a faintly bright
look in the clouds, her mother told her if she liked she might take a
turn before coming home. But Letty did not care to stay out--she left
the message, and then turned to hurry home as fast as she could. She was
hastening along, when a faint sound caught her ears, and looking round
she saw lying on the ground a few steps from her a beautiful white dove.
It seemed in pain, for it tried to move, and after fluttering a few
steps fell down again, and Letty saw that one wing was dragging in a way
it shouldn't, and she thought to herself it must be broken. Her kind
heart was always quick to feel pity, and she gently lifted the bird, and
sitting down on the ground tried