DEAR MRS. FINN, Please forgive me for the trouble I make you, but I don't see any other way. I can't get work that pays enough to keep me; the Dr. says I can't be well unless I rest. I hate to be a burden, so I'm going away not to trouble anybody anymore. I've sold my things to pay what I owe you. Please let me be as I am, and don't let people come and look at me. I hope it is n't very wicked, but there don't seem any room for me in the world, and I'm not afraid to die now, though I should be if I stayed and got bad because I had n't strength to keep right. Give my love to the baby, and so good-by, good-by.
JANE BRYANT.
“O, Miss Mills, how dreadful!” cried Polly, with her eyes so full she could hardly read the little letter.
“Not so dreadful as it might have been, but a bitter, sad thing to see that child, only seventeen, lying there in her little clean, old night-gown, waiting for death to come and take her, because'there did n't seem to be any room for her in the world.' Ah, well, we saved her, for it was n't too late, thank heaven, and the first thing she said was, 'Oh, why did you bring me back?' I've been nursing her all day, hearing her story, and trying to show her that there is room and a welcome for her. Her mother died a year ago, and since then she has been struggling along alone. She is one of the timid, innocent, humble creatures who can't push their way, and so get put aside and forgotten. She has tried all sorts of poorly paid work, could n't live on it decently, got discouraged, sick, frightened, and could see no refuge from the big, bad world but to get out of it while she was n't afraid to die. A very old story, my dear, new and dreadful as it seems to you, and I think it won't do you any harm to see and help this little girl, who has gone through dark places that you are never like to know.”
“I will; indeed, I will do all I can! Where is she now?” asked Polly, touched to the heart by the story, so simple yet so sad.
“There,” and Miss Mills pointed to the door of her own little bedroom. “She was well enough to be moved to-night, so I brought her home and laid her safely in my bed. Poor little soul! she looked about her for a minute, then the lost look went away, and she gave a great sigh, and took my hand in both her thin bits of ones, and said, 'O, ma'am, I feel as if I'd been born into a new world. Help me to begin again, and I'll do better.' So I told her she was my child now, and might rest here, sure of a home as long as I had one.”
As Miss Mills spoke in her motherly tone, and cast a proud and happy look toward the warm and quiet nest in which she had sheltered this friendless little sparrow, feeling sure that God meant her to keep it from falling to the ground, Polly put both arms about her neck, and kissed her withered cheek with as much loving reverence as if she had been a splendid saint, for in the likeness of this plain old maid she saw the lovely charity that blesses and saves the world.
“How good you are! Dear Miss Mills, tell me what to do, let me help you, I 'm ready for anything,” said Polly, very humbly, for her own troubles looked so small and foolish beside the stern hardships which had nearly had so tragical an end, that she felt heartily ashamed of herself, and quite burned to atone for them.
Miss, Mills stopped to stroke the fresh cheek opposite, to smile, and say, “Then, Polly, I think I'll ask you to go in and say a friendly word to my little girl. The sight of you will do her good; and you have just the right way of comforting people, without making a fuss.”
“Have I?” said Polly, looking much gratified by the words.