"Mother, mother," he cried in wild excitement, "Miss Brand is gettin' up a geranium show! It's ter come off in July. Four hundred plants have been given out to the children this morning. They are to keep them, water them, attend to them, make them grow and flower, and when the day comes round for the show the plants must be taken to the schoolroom, and the best will get a prize." "Who is ter judge?" asked Mrs. Ermen, catching George's excitement. "A lord!" "A lord?" "Yes, one of them that wears gaiters over their boots. And I am going to win the first prize!" he added firmly, his sharp face wearing an expression of happy anticipation. "I 'ope you will, my dear," she answered, kissing him, and breathing a prayer from her poor ignorant soul for the good woman whose unselfish devotion had brought that look into her boy's face. Time passed, and the bitter, easterly winds proved to be more than Mrs. Ermen could bear. She became too weak to rise, and when George grew alarmed she tried to comfort him by saying that she felt warmer in bed; and when June came she should be about again, and he must not distress himself for her sake. Supposing she should die! Men and women died frequently in Paradise Court. Their bodies were carried out of the squalid dwellings and rattled over the streets to the crowded burial ground. The thought smote him painfully, and made a burning flush mount to his face. She must not die! What would riches and greatness mean to him unless she were there to share in his good fortune? II. The geranium was not at all happy in her new quarters. Although George attended to her wants most carefully she still thought with bitter regret of the greenhouse where she had been reared, and of the old gardener who had ministered to her. Here on the window sill of George's attic thousands of smuts settled daily upon her leaves, and the air was heavy. So great was her discomfort that she would have most certainly ceased to live had not a sunbeam lost his way among the narrow courts of the city, and while darting in and out of the grimy streets in his endeavours to find the sun, espied the unhappy flower. He immediately climbed up his golden ladder, and rested among the broad green leaves, much to her delight. She confided her pitiful history to this new-found friend, who was so kind and sympathetic that the geranium grew warm and happy. Presently the sun shone out in the murky sky, and immediately the sunbeam glided along his golden thread and rejoined his parent. He did not, however, forsake the plant which had sheltered him, but frequently visited her, so that she forgot her struggle for life, and grew into a fine healthy geranium, much to the delight of her young master.