“May I come in?” asked a gentle voice behind him, after a few minutes; and turning, he saw two blue eyes gleaming at him from beneath soft curls of sunny hair, a pair of red lips smiling upon him, while a slight, graceful figure, daintily clad in a pretty blue lawn gown, stood in the door-way, waiting for his permission to enter. Jacob Rosevelt’s sad face involuntarily brightened at the sight of this attractive picture, and he said, hastily: “Well, well, child, I believe you are rightly named, for you come like a veritable star into the gloom of my life. Star Gladstone—it is but an index to your character, for you both brighten and cheer. Of course you may come in.” “Thank you,” Star said, laughing, and advancing to his side. “I did not expect to be so highly complimented when I came out. I have brought you this lovely spray of oleanders which the gardener gave me from the conservatory,” and she held up her little vase containing the bright, fragrant blossoms. “And here,” she continued, “is a dish of the most delicious raspberries you ever tasted, every one picked by my own fingers,” and she held up her right hand, showing her slender fingers stained by the rosy fruit. He watched her, his pale lips relaxing into a smile, which even extended to the eyes that had been so sad a little while before. She was irresistible in her bright beauty; she was as fresh and sweet as the morning itself, while with her heart filled with kindness and consideration for him, he began to think that all the world was not quite so bad as he had thought. “Mrs. Mellen told me, as I came in, that you did not eat much breakfast,” Star continued; “and as she is about to serve you a little lunch, I brought my berries right up to give them to you myself.” Mrs. Mellen entered at this moment, bearing a little tray with a tempting lunch spread upon it. Star wheeled a small table to the invalid’s side, spread a spotless towel which she found upon the rack upon it, and then deftly arranged the dishes in the most tempting way before him, putting the oleander blossoms in the center and the raspberries just under his nose, where he could not fail to get their delicious odor and long to eat them. “How pretty and inviting you make everything look, little one,” he said, affectionately, as he watched her graceful movements and their result. “What would the world be but for the beauty there is in it? and what are pretty things given us for, but to enjoy?” Star returned, with a fond glance at the flowers, as she moved them a trifle nearer to his plate. “There,” she went on, smiling, and tossing her hat upon a chair, “I believe I am hungry myself, and if you will allow me to pour your tea, I think I could eat a slice of Mrs. Mellen’s delicious bread and butter with you afterward. You don’t often see such bread as that, I can assure you, and I frequently run down here and beg her to give me some.”