Another and perhaps a more agreeable field for money-making is one which Lilian G—— has found, or rather into which Lilian walked one summer morning. On her way to school she had to pass the house of two very dear old ladies, who lived by themselves, and pottered about in a pretty old-fashioned garden. Miss Betsey and Miss Annie were fond of the bright girls who two or three times a day walked past their door on the way to and from their classrooms, and they had their favorites among them, often stopping Lily, for instance, and giving her a flower or two to fasten into her buttonhole.
One morning Lilian observed that Miss Betsey groped a little and felt about with her stick, instead of stepping briskly around the garden as she used to do.
"My sister," Miss Annie confided to her, "is growing blind. We went to Dr. N——yesterday, and he confirmed our fears. It is a cataract, and it cannot be operated on for a long time. What poor Betsey will do I don't know, for reading has been her great occupation and her one pleasure. I cannot read to her, for it hurts my throat to read aloud."
"Let me come every afternoon, dear Miss Annie," said Lilian. "I'll read to Miss Betsey from four to five every day, and on Saturdays I'll come twice—an hour in the morning and another in the afternoon. I can do it just as easily!"
Miss Annie's face lightened. "You sweet child!" she said. "If you will come, and your mother will let you come, Betsey and I will pay you two dollars a week for reading to us both."
The rest of this chapter must go over until next week.
Margaret E. Sangster.
The beauty of a bride's trousseau
Is something that it need not lose,
If only maid and laundress know,
That Ivory is the soap to use.