What with Nannie's wages, and her own work, and Pat's board, besides an occasional perquisite from their kind friend, Mrs. Bates was quite looking up in the world. She had been able to cover the floor with a nice list carpet, and to add a few comfortable and pretty articles of furniture from time to time, so that the little family began to feel that their humble abode was the most luxurious place they had ever seen. Their hearts were so filled with gratitude for even these homely comforts, that there was no room in them for envious feelings toward those who were possessed of more bounteous gifts. A little stand by the window now held Nannie's plants, that were ever green and flourishing, and there was scarcely a week but some sweet bud peeped out from the fresh leaves of the one, or pure blossom burst forth from the other to greet them. The big Bible occupied its accustomed place in the corner, and a couple of neat shelves, the work of Pat's ingenuity, held the few books and little ornaments that had been accumulating since their good fortune commenced. Winnie's cradle was put away in her mother's bedroom with the rag-baby still lying beneath the small counterpane, and in its place was Pat's couch newly covered with a gay flowered chintz. A bright oil-cloth was nailed beneath the stove, and in the center of the room stood a table, around which was gathered a loving trio every evening when Nannie could be spared from her little charge.

Mrs. Minturn's house, to be sure, was grand and magnificent, and abounded in every thing that was costly and elegant, and yet, to Nannie, the square attic room with its modest apurtenances was far more beautiful and attractive. The eye of a stranger could see only the bare objects that served to fill the vacant nooks; but the heart's strong affections, and the devotion that counts nothing a toil that can bring blessings to another, and the motives of love and purity that dictated this or that offering, were the hidden associations that manifested themselves to Nannie's vision and made their inestimable value, so that could she have chosen between them and the wealth of her employers, she would gladly have taken the simple home.

Wasn't it here that peace had first spread its soft wings to shelter her long-time troubled being! Was it not here that she had learned what it was to be smiled upon and beloved; and was it not hallowed to her by the visits of her kind friend and the noble Pat; and, more than all, was it not consecrated by the footsteps of the death angel that came for dear little Winnie? Oh! there is no space there for a murmuring, grasping spirit, to take the good gifts handed out by a wise and loving father, and to use them with a grateful feeling is all that the righteous poor can wish. Even in their lowliness are they often the objects of envy to the harassed and care-ridden rich, who would willingly forego all their superfluous gains for one hour of contented ease.

Mrs. Minturn went frequently to Nannie's home when the girl took little Dora out for a walk, for she wished to accustom her child to the sight of the various conditions of life, so that if she were spared to womanhood she might not be so far removed from her fellow-creatures as to hesitate to enter any abode, however humble, and to minister to the needy; and the gentle lady sat with her silken robes falling over the home-spun carpet, and her soft features exposed to the glare and steam of that common room, looking with a happy heart upon the joyous group before her. The poor widow, with her gown of print and checked apron, laid down her weary needle to attend to the sweet voice that ever sounded so soothingly in her ear, and the delighted child shook its rough toys, holding them up to the view, first of one, and then the other, and laughing aloud in her boisterous glee.