She sat and thought a long time of different persons, wondering what she could do for them. But the thoughts that came oftenest, and would not go away, were of poor sick little Nettie, and her sad young mother.
"Yes, I'll do it," she said; "I wonder I had not thought of it before." Then she went to her writing desk, and wrote a letter and sent it off.
Now let us go and hear it read.
"A letter for me!" said Mrs. Holmes. "How strange! Who would write to me?"
The letter was from Mrs. Bertrand, and it said: "I want you and Nettie to come right away and spend the summer with me. I am sure the fresh air will cure her." But that was not all. There was money enough sent to pay their expenses, and buy them each a traveling dress, and some other things.
I can't tell you much about how Nettie screamed for joy, and how her mother cried, then both laughed, and both cried; but I know that not long after two very happy beings dressed in gray, took the morning boat and were brought safely to Mrs. Bertrand's door. Then how they rode and sailed, and took long rambles, and gathered flowers, and thought the time spent in sleep was wasted.
The favorite seat was in the balcony, where Nettie could watch the sea-gulls come and go, and where you may see them all this minute, Nettie, and her mother, and Mrs. Betrand, with her basket of flowers. Nettie's cheeks are getting round and rosy, and it is hard to say who is happiest of them all; but Mrs. Bertrand must be, because you know it says: "It is more blessed to give than to receive."
