OW this is what I should call neat—neat, and not gaudy," said Dame Desley, as she stood in the doorway of Nelly's home, and surveyed with a pleased eye the perfect order of the place. "The fire-irons bright, though small—the paper chosen with judgment—everything needful, though there is little to spare—each article in its proper place, and neat and good of its kind." Oh, how delightful to Nelly was the praise which she had fairly earned by self-denying labour!
"Considering that Nelly is lame—that she has never been gifted either with quickness or strength, I have every reason," observed Mr. Learning, "to be satisfied with what she has done."
"And what a beautiful bird; and how tame!" cried Dame Desley, as Content, recognizing a friend, hopped lightly down to her finger.
"That was the gift of my dear friend, Duty," said Nelly.
"A friend whom you cannot prize too much, or follow too closely," observed her mother.
"Here she comes herself!" cried Nelly in joyful surprise, "and sweet Affection behind her! They have doubtless come here to-day to welcome home my dear mother."
The meeting was a very joyous one. Duty and Affection had for many years been the valued friends of Dame Desley.
After the first words of greeting had passed between them, Affection inquired whether the dame had seen the gardens of her daughters, and looked at their needlework plants.
"Not yet, but I am going to examine them," replied the mother.