she beheld a shilling shining amidst the dingy coppers. Eager to return
the money to its rightful owner, little Pollie darted amongst the people
who thronged the pavement, ran across the road at the risk of being run
over, and reached the lady just as she was stepping into her carriage.

"Please, ma'am, please," she faltered quite out of breath, and at the
same time pulling her violently by the dress.

"Let go, you little vagabond!" exclaimed the indignant footman, taking
Pollie by the arm to pull her away.

Fortunately the lady turned on hearing her servant speak thus, and saw
the child struggling in his grip.

"What is the matter?" she asked.

"Please, ma'am, this," cried Pollie, holding up the shilling.

"That is for the violets you sold to me."

"Oh no, ma'am, it is all wrong," exclaimed the child excitedly; "those
flowers are but three-pence--a penny a bunch; that's all. Here is your
money, ma'am!"

The lady gazed earnestly into the little girl's flushed face, as she
asked--

"Why did you not keep that shilling?"

"Because it was not mine," was the answer.

"I should not have known but that the money was correct. You did not say
the price of your flowers, my child."

"God knew the price," said Pollie reverentially, "and He would have
been angry with me for cheating you, ma'am."

"Who taught you of God?" asked the lady softly, as she bent down to the
little one.

"Mother!" was the reply.

"And is your mother dead?" she questioned, perceiving for the first time
the child's poor mourning.

"No, ma'am, but father is, and mother is so ill and weak," and the shy
brown eyes filled with tears.

"Poor child, poor little child," murmured the lady compassionately.
"What is your name?" she asked after a pause, "and where do you live?"

Pollie gave the desired information.

"Well then, Pollie," said her new friend kindly, "here is the money for
the violets; and take this shilling: it will buy something for your
mother, perhaps. I shall come and see you one day."

So saying she patted Pollie's thin cheeks with a soft loving touch;
then stepping into the carriage was driven away, leaving Pollie in a
state of wonderful happiness at so much kindness from so nice a lady.

"Oh dear!" she thought, "I am rich now. I must make haste home to
mother, and I've two bunches of violets still left. Mother shall have
one and Mrs. Flanagan the other."

CHAPTER II.

WHO HAD THE VIOLETS!

Pollie tied up the