"Dear Miss jelly, don't talk like that," she said, softly, "indeed you will get well, I'm sure you will."
"No, child, no!"
"Oh, but, yes," persisted her companion, fondly. "Why, whatever would I do, if you did not live to read my little volume?"
"Oh, it's coming out, then?" said Aunt Jelly, grimly, with a flash of her old spirit.
"Yes, Mr. Gartney has arranged it all. I was going to keep it a secret, but when you talk about dying, I can't," and poor Minnie fairly broke down, which touched Aunt Jelly more than she liked to acknowledge.
"There! there!" she said, touching Minnie's face, with unaccustomed tenderness, "you're a good child, Minnie. Tell me all about this poetry book."
"It's going to be called 'Heart Throbs and Sad Sobs, by Minnie Pelch,'" said the poetess, radiantly, "'dedicated to Miss Angelica Corbin, by her sincere friend, the Authoress.'"
Aunt Jelly was silent for a few minutes, feeling, rather a choking in her throat. She had laughed at poor Minnie's simple rhymes on many occasions, and now the poetess had returned good for evil, paying her the high compliment of inscribing her name on the front of the book. Minnie mistook her silence for indignation at not having asked permission, and tried to pacify the old lady.
"I hope you're not angry," she said, timidly smoothing Aunt Jelly's hand, "but I wanted to surprise you by the dedication. There's a poem about you too, Miss Jelly, and I think it's the best in the book--really the best."
The old lady was so touched by Minnie's poor little attempt to propitiate her, that she could not trust herself to speak, and when she did there were tears rolling down her hard old face, as she bent down and kissed her.