"But, Nannie, I am not Bella," said the child. "Do you think I can ever be as dear as she was, so that her mother may forget that she is dead? I saw her weeping the other day as she came from the grove, and I was afraid she did not love me, and was sorry I was here to make her think of her loss."
"Not love you, Miss Jennie! how can you say so, when she took you, poor little beggar as you was, all from the mire and dirt to be her own child."
"You must not tell me of that time, Nannie, it makes me ache here;" said she, putting her hand to her heart. "Many a long day have I gone back and forth on that sad walk, trembling for fear the lumbering omnibuses would run over me, and not one penny did I ever ask, for I could not beg, Nannie, and if some kind gentlemen and ladies had not noticed me, and sometimes given me a sixpence or two, I should have gone home to my poor father and mother with nothing for my hard day's work, and then we must have starved, for dear mamma was not able to get bread for us all, and nurse my sick father besides. You must not speak of that time again, Nannie, for it takes me away from this pleasant sunny spot, and puts me back in a dismal room, with no light, nor warmth, nor greenness."
"What is the matter with my little girl?" said Mrs. Dunmore, who just then approached the child, and perceived the traces of recent tears on her sweet face. "Is she not happy among the birds, and squirrels, and flowers?"
"Oh! yes, very happy indeed, dear mamma," and Jennie took the hand that was extended to her, and kissed it with all the ardor of her impetuous nature; "but I was thinking of the dreary home that was mine before you found me and cared for me."
"Sit down here, my darling, and talk to me a little. Is the thought of the past very sad to my Jennie; and can she see no reason to be grateful, even for that time of darkness and sorrow? Do you remember how the black clouds came yesterday, and quite hid the sun from our sight, and the strong wind shook the house, so that we were almost afraid of its fury, and the heavy rain fell and bowed some of our beauteous shrubs nearly to the ground; then the clouds passed away and the sun shone more brightly than ever, and the fierce winds were hushed, and the shrubs lifted up their drooping heads all the more graceful and lovely for the crushing storm. So it is when God sends trials and sufferings upon us—the world looks black and dreary, and we are bowed very low in our affliction, and His purpose in it all is to make our hearts better and purer, and more beauteous in His sight when the troubles shall have passed away."
"Did the world seem very dismal to you, dear mamma, when Bella died?"
"Very dismal, my child, until God sent me another little daughter to lighten the grief that was pressing me down; now the clouds are parting, and the sunlight comes beaming through, and I think we may be very happy, my darling, if we will. But here comes Mr. Colbert. Let us go to meet him, he used to love dear Bella, and will be glad to see you, I know."