her sit in the rocking-chair close up to the fire--dear me!"

This last exclamation broke from Mrs. Chester, as she drew the great
coat from around the child, and saw how miserably she was clad; but
checking her astonishment, she placed her guest in the rocking-chair,
took off the old cloak, and was soon kneeling on the carpet holding
a saucer of warm tea to the pale lips of the child.

"Give me a piece of the toast, John," she said, holding the saucer
in one hand, and reaching forth the other towards her husband, who
had seated himself at the supper table. "This is all she wants--a
good fire and something to eat. Please pour out your own tea, while
I take care of her. She hasn't had a good warm drink before, this
long time, I dare say--have you, little girl?"

"No," said the child, faintly, "I never tasted anything so good as
that before in my life."

Mrs. Chester laughed, and the tears came into her eyes.

"Poor thing! it is only because she is starved, that this tea and
toast seem so delicious," she said, looking at her husband; "a small
piece more. I must be careful, you know, John, and not give her too
much at once," and breaking off what she deemed a scant portion of
the toast, the kind woman gave it into the eager hands of the child.

The little girl swallowed the morsel of toast greedily, and held out
her hand again.

Mrs. Chester shook her head and smiled through the tears that filled