The girl made no reply, but smiled again.
'Well, will you take it out of the pretty little Cup?'
'I will,' answered Mary, in an almost inaudible voice.
The little Cup was standing at that moment on the window-sill, and was trembling with joy; hitherto no one had loved her so deeply as Mary did. Was it not for her sake alone that Mary consented to take the medicine? Perhaps the little girl will recover; perhaps she, the Cup, will have saved a human life. 'Oh, what a beautiful thing it is to live,' said the Cup to herself; 'never before was I so happy!'
It was a glorious summer day when Mary went the first time after her dangerous illness to take breath in the open air. She was still thin and pale, but her large eyes were bright, and she looked happy. She was sitting in the nearest square, under a big green tree, with her Cup in both her hands. The little girl was evidently eager to have the Cup always with her; she would not part with her treasure. The Cup felt herself also happy—nay, happier than ever—although she was now broken and spotted with ugly cement patches. She was happy and proud to be the best friend of the little Mary whom she had helped to restore to life and health.
