able piled with work, and
sewing away with an energy that made the gray curls vibrate.

"Saint Mehitable, I call her. Now, there is a rich woman who knew how to
get happiness out of her money," said Polly, as they walked away. "She
was poor till she was nearly fifty; then a comfortable fortune was left
her, and she knew just how to use it. That house was given her, but
instead of living in it all alone, she filled it with poor gentlefolks
who needed neat, respectable homes, but could n't get anything
comfortable for their little money. I 'm one of them, and I know the
worth of what she does for me. Two old widow ladies live below me,
several students overhead, poor Mrs. Kean and her lame boy have the back
parlor, and Jenny the little bedroom next Miss Mills. Each pays what
they can; that 's independent, and makes us feel better but that dear
woman does a thousand things that money can't pay for, and we feel her
influence all through the house. I 'd rather be married, and have a home
of my own; but next to that, I should like to be an old maid like Miss
Mills."

Polly's sober face and emphatic tone made Fanny laugh, and at the cheery
sound a young girl pushing a baby-carriage looked round and smiled.

"What lovely eyes!" whispered Fanny.

"Yes, that 's little Jane," returned Polly, adding, when she had passed,
with a nod and a friendly "Don't get tired, Jenny," "we help one another
at our house, and every fine morning Jenny takes Johnny Kean out when
she goes for her own walk. That gives his mother time to rest, does both
the children good, and keeps things neighborly. Miss Mills suggested it,
and Jenny is so glad to do anything for anybody, it 's a pleasure to let
her."

"I 've heard of Miss Mills before. But I should think she would get
tired to death, sitting there making hoods and petticoats day after
day," said Fanny, after thinking over Jenny's story for a few minutes,
for seeing the girl seemed to bring it nearer, and make it more real to
her.

"But she don't sit there all the time. People come to her with their
troubles, and she goes to them with all sorts of help, from soap and
soup, to shrouds for the dead and comfort for the living. I go with her
sometimes, and it is more exciting than any play, to see and hear the
lives and stories of the poor."

"How can you bear the dreadful sights and sounds, the bad air, and the
poverty that can't be cured?"

"But it is n't all dreadful. There are good and lovel