cuse me if I go on with my work, as I'm in a driving hurry to get these things done to-night," said the brisk little lady, with a smile and a nod, as she took a new needleful of thread, and ran up a seam as if for a wager.
"Let me help you, then; I'm lazy and cross, and it will do me good," said Polly, sitting down with the resigned feeling, "Well, if I can't be happy, I can be useful, perhaps."
"Thank you, my dear; yes, you can just hem the skirt while I put in the sleeves, and that will be a great lift."
Polly put on her thimble in silence, but as Miss Mills spread the white flannel over her lap, she exclaimed, "Why, it looks like a shroud! Is it one?"
"No, dear, thank God, it isn't, but it might have been, if we hadn't saved the poor little soul." cried Miss Mills, with a sudden brightening of the face, which made it beautiful in spite of the stiff gray curl that bobbed on each temple, the want of teeth, and a crooked nose.
"Will you tell me about it? I like to hear your adventures and good works so much," said Polly, ready to be amused by anything that made her forget herself.
"Ah, my dear, it's a very common story, and that's the saddest part of it. I'll tell you all about it, for I think you may be able to help me. Last night I watched with poor Mary Floyd. She's dying of consumption, you know," began Miss Mills, as her nimble fingers flew, and her kind old face beamed over the
