“And then,” Sara went on, “I want you to try not to be so selfish. I am so grieved to have you indifferent to Mrs. Sherman’s kindness to you. She told me that you had only given her one dollar and seventy-five cents since you went to work. And don’t you see, you have been receiving everything she could give you, of love and care, and yet you have given her nothing! You haven’t even been kind to her, Nellie.” “_Oh!_” said Nellie, “well, I wish I was dead. Everybody’s always finding fault. I’m sure there’s lots of girls worse than me. But I’m always being picked at. I wish I was dead.” Sara was nervous and overstrained; besides, she was conscious of a sort of physical disgust at this poor, repulsive little being; her self-reproach brought the tears to her eyes. “I didn’t mean to be hard on you, Nellie,” she said, “only I want you to try.” “I _always_ try,” said Nellie. “And,” Sara’s brave young voice went on, “I do want you to feel that--that Christ cares; that God cares, Nellie, that you shall be a good, true, dear girl. Will you just think of that, Nellie?” “Why, of course,” Nellie answered resentfully, wiping her eyes. “I do always. My aunt makes me go to church every Sunday. Miss Sara, do you think you have any pieces of velvet in your rag-bag?” Sara started. “Rag-bag?” she repeated vaguely, “velvet?” “I thought I could trim my hat over,” Nellie explained. “You’ve got so many things,” she ended sullenly. Sara was silent for a few minutes, reasoning with herself. After all, Nellie was young; it was natural for her to like pretty things. “Yes, I can give you some velvet, I think,” she said cheerfully; “and, Nellie, I have a plan for you; what are you going to give your aunt for a Christmas gift?” Nellie looked up blankly. “I know you’ll want to give her something,” Sara went on, “and I was thinking of a nice chair. What do you think of that?” “A chair!” repeated Nellie in astonishment. “Why, I wouldn’t buy a chair for myself!” Sara sighed. “But you would like the fun of buying one for somebody else, wouldn’t you?” “Well, I ain’t got any money,” the girl said uneasily; and then Miss Wharton unfolded her plan, which was that she should give Nellie five dollars, and Nellie would add what she could, and a present should be purchased. “Add something, if it’s only a dollar,” Sara said pleadingly; “a good, comfortable chair can be bought for six dollars.” “A’ right; I don’t mind,” Nellie agreed, in a wearied way. She did not understand all this talk; she saw no reason in Miss Sara’s giving Mrs. Sherman a chair, and saying it was Nellie’s gift; still, she didn’t mind. “You’ll like to do that, won’t you, Nellie?” Sara said anxiously. “Oh, certainly,” said Nellie, and then she rose, for Miss Wharton was silent, and that seemed a sign of dismissal.