"Your friend,
"Peter Bond."
The letter brought much joy, as well as the money that could reinstate them in their old quarters again; but the times were still pinching, and poor Nannie almost sunk down in the pitiless streets sometimes from fatigue and exhaustion. She had got very weary one day, and had sold but few of her wares, when she bethought her of May Minturn's mother, and wondered if she would buy something for May's sake; so she sought the house and went timidly in at the basement door. It wasn't Biddy who opened it for her, but a strange girl who told her they didn't want any thing; and she had not the courage to ask for the mistress, so she was turning sadly and despondingly away, when she saw the pale sweet face at the window and the white hand beckoning her to come up the front steps, and a moment after, Mrs. Minturn herself admitted her into the hall.
"I thought you were at school, Nannie," said she, looking over the articles in the basket, and selecting a goodly number, "and that you no longer needed to go out in the cold and tire yourself with this heavy thing," and she tried to lift the basket which her delicate arm could scarcely uphold. "I'm sorry for you," continued she, as Nannie told her of their misfortunes, "but come in here, I have something to propose to you;" and she led the way to the nursery where a lovely little girl of ten months old was amusing herself upon the floor with her playthings. "Would you like to come and live with me, and take care of Dora?" asked she, as Nannie stooped to caress the child, "I need Biddy as seamstress, and you love babies and know how to please them, do you not?"
Nannie looked earnestly at the young child, and as she thought of Winnie, it almost seemed as if she were back again, and she replied with tears in her eyes, "Oh, ma'am, it would be so much better than that!" pointing to the basket, "but perhaps I wouldn't suit you even if mother will let me come!"
"Never mind that, Nannie," said Mrs. Minturn, "you will suit if you try, I am sure; and I will give you more than you could get by trudging day after day with your small wares; so run home and ask your mother, child, and come to me on Monday, if you can."
"I would like it indeed!" thought Nannie, as she went homeward with a light step. "It would be quite like minding dear Winnie!"
They had got nicely settled again in the attic, and Pat lay upon his couch making shadows on the wall with his well arm to amuse himself, for the hours lagged heavily; and he longed to be tugging at the great bales and boxes again. He thought it would do well enough for women to be ill and confined to the house week after week; but he would rather work ever so hard than to be hived up in one particular spot so long, even with the tender nursing and care bestowed upon him. It did not occur to him that he needed occasionally such a convincing remembrance that he was mortal, which he perhaps often forgot in his accustomed health and strength. But he came to think of its object after awhile, and the discipline worked to a charm, making him patient and gentle, and awakening a deeper interest in the home where there is no more sickness, so that when he felt himself growing robust again, he looked back upon the trial with gratitude. It took a great while though to regain what he had lost, and he had to sit for many a day in the easy-chair with his swollen feet upon a pillow, before his limbs would perform their accustomed office. Oh! how glad was he for the power of locomotion, as his halting feet moved even slowly over the floor; and it was like a recreation to him when he could walk down to the corner with the aid of a crutch. But the limbs grew flexible at last, and he went bounding off to his labors, thanking God that He had not made him a cripple. The poor old man who hobbles about Broadway upon one leg, owed many a penny to Pat's rheumatic siege, and Pat acknowledged it to himself as he lifted his free steps and took the way to the store.