“I do what I can,” said Winifred, still seeming to answer a different voice from the angel’s. “I am not strong. I can’t do like other people; and besides, little girls can’t do things. I am going to try before I go away, but I’ve never been able before.” “Never?” “No; there never seems anything for me to do for anybody else.” “Nothing?” “No; only such silly little things that it isn’t worth beginning.” The angel looked gravely down upon the child for some minutes, and Winifred felt a strange sense of pain and humiliation falling upon her. Then he turned to the swallow who was still sitting upon the window-ledge, and said quietly: “Show her.” Then the angel disappeared, and Winifred and her friend were left together. “Can you get on my back?” asked the swallow. “Oh yes!” cried Winnie, eagerly, glad to have something to distract her thoughts. “Are you going to take me with you? I should like that.” “I am going to take you a little way, and show you some things,” answered the swallow. “You will come back by-and-by.” Winifred had no difficulty in making herself comfortable and secure upon the swallow’s back, and very soon they were flying quickly through the dark night. “Are you going after the other swallows?” “Not just yet.” “Won’t you be afraid of getting lost if you are left behind?” “Oh no, we never get lost whilst we are doing our duty.” Winifred began to feel rather uncomfortable. She was half sorry she had agreed to go with the swallow. “Is it your duty to do what the--the angel told you?” “Yes.” “I think he was vexed,” observed Winifred rather discontentedly. “I was glad when he went away.” “Hush!” answered the swallow, “you ought not to talk like that.” Winnie was silent for awhile, and then she asked: “Where are you taking me, swallow? What are all those lights down there?” “The lights of a great city. I am going to show you some pictures.” “I like pictures,” said the little girl, brightening up at the idea. “I am glad now that I came with you, swallow.” All in a minute Winifred found herself looking into a pretty garden. There were some little children at play there, one little girl sitting by herself with a book, and two younger boys trying hard to mend a broken toy. It would have been an easy task enough for any more experienced hands, and by-and-by one little fellow looked up and said: “Please, sister, will you do it for us?” “Oh, I can’t; I’m busy. You can quite well do it for yourselves.” The two little fellows returned to their task, but their efforts only made the damage worse, and soon they burst out crying in their disappointment. “What babies you are!” said the little girl rising, going further away. “You make my head ache with all that noise.” “What a horrid little girl!” cried warm-hearted Winnie. “Why couldn’t she mend the toy? Anybody could have done it at first. Why doesn’t she go and comfort them? Poor little boys!”