"Will your mother let me?" was the question.
"Yes, I am sure she will; she is so good," was the reply.
And then the two friends went on up Drury Lane, not speaking much; but as they were parting Lizzie stooped down, and kissing the child lovingly, said softly—
"Good-bye, and thank you, little Pollie."
"Would you like a bunch of violets?" she asked. "I can divide the other between mother and Mrs Flanagan."
The poor seamstress was unable to speak from emotion, but held out her hand with trembling eagerness for the flowers.
How glad was the child in being able to give a pleasure to her lonely neighbour. She felt more joy in seeing Lizzie Stevens' glad smile than even in the magnificent sum of money wrapped in her handkerchief; for she experienced "it is more blessed to give than to receive;" and after seeing her friend disappear through the dingy doorway which led to the garret called her "home," she turned with a light heart into the entry which led to her own place, eager to see mother and tell her all; but in doing so almost fell over a little cripple boy who sat crouched on the door-steps.
"O Jimmy! did I hurt you?" she asked in alarm.
"No. Everybody knocks me about; I'se used to it," was his answer.
"Poor Jimmy!" said the little girl. "Where's your mother?"