"Oh, but, yes," persisted her companion, fondly. "Why, whatever would I do, if you did not live to read my little volume?" "Oh, it's coming out, then?" said Aunt Jelly, grimly, with a flash of her old spirit. "Yes, Mr. Gartney has arranged it all. I was going to keep it a secret, but when you talk about dying, I can't," and poor Minnie fairly broke down, which touched Aunt Jelly more than she liked to acknowledge. "There! there!" she said, touching Minnie's face, with unaccustomed tenderness, "you're a good child, Minnie. Tell me all about this poetry book." "It's going to be called 'Heart Throbs and Sad Sobs, by Minnie Pelch,'" said the poetess, radiantly, "'dedicated to Miss Angelica Corbin, by her sincere friend, the Authoress.'" Aunt Jelly was silent for a few minutes, feeling, rather a choking in her throat. She had laughed at poor Minnie's simple rhymes on many occasions, and now the poetess had returned good for evil, paying her the high compliment of inscribing her name on the front of the book. Minnie mistook her silence for indignation at not having asked permission, and tried to pacify the old lady. "I hope you're not angry," she said, timidly smoothing Aunt Jelly's hand, "but I wanted to surprise you by the dedication. There's a poem about you too, Miss Jelly, and I think it's the best in the book--really the best." The old lady was so touched by Minnie's poor little attempt to propitiate her, that she could not trust herself to speak, and when she did there were tears rolling down her hard old face, as she bent down and kissed her. "It's very good of you, child," she said, in a tremulous voice, "and I feel very much honoured, indeed. Perhaps I've not been so kind to you as I ought to have been. "Oh, but you have!--you have!" cried Minnie, throwing herself on her knees, with tears in her eyes. "If it had not been for you, I would have starved, dear Miss Jelly. Indeed, I would. It is so hard to get paid for poetry. And you have been such a kind, good friend--such a kind good friend!" "If I have spoken harshly to you, dear, on occasions," said Aunt Jelly, brokenly, "it was from no want of feeling. Age, my dear Minnie, age, and an embittered nature. But the heart was there, my dear, all the time the heart was there." "I know it was!--I know it was!" wept Minnie, patting the withered hand of her old friend. "I have never doubted that." "Yes! yes!" muttered the old dame dreamily, "the heart was there."