“Let me carry your basket; it is too heavy for you.”

The little girl, with many injunctions to be careful and not tip it over, delivered the basket to him; she then told him her project of buying Frisk a collar with the money got by the selling of the strawberries, which young Phil approved of very much, and offered to go with her to buy it, for he knew somebody, he said, that kept them for sale.  Nelly joyfully assented to his offer, and thanked him heartily, too, for his kindness.

“There, Phil, we are almost there.  I can see the long study window; we have only to pass the widow Mason’s cottage, up the green lane, and we shall be there.”

On they walked, laughing merrily for very lightness of heart, till they were close beside the poor widow’s low cottage window.  Suddenly Nelly stopped, and the laugh was hushed upon her bright lips.  “Did you hear it, Phil?” she said softly.  “Hear what, Nell?” and Phil turned his black eyes slowly round, as if he expected to see some fairy issue from the grove of trees near by.  “Why, Lucy Mason’s cough.  Mother says she will not live to see the little snow-birds come again.  Poor, dear Lucy!” The great tear-drops rolled fast over Nelly’s red cheeks, and fell like rain upon her little hand.  “Oh, Phil, I’ll tell you what;—­I’ll give these strawberries to Lucy.  She used to love them dearly.”

“Poh! poh!  Nelly; what a silly girl! to give them away when Mrs. Preston will give you such a deal of money for them!”

“But, Phil, Lucy’s mother is poor; she can’t buy them for her, and you can’t think how well Lucy loves them.”

“Well, what if she does, and what if she is poor? can’t her mother pick them over in the fields, if she wants them so bad?  I wouldn’t give them away.”

“For shame, Phil Morton!  To think of poor old Mrs. Mason’s going over in the fields to pick strawberries, leaving Lucy all alone, and so sick!  I shouldn’t have thought it of you, Phil.  No, indeed I shouldn’t.  Give me the basket,” said Nelly sorrowfully; “I shall give them to Lucy.”  Phil silently handed the basket to her, and, without speaking, he followed Nelly as she went round to the cottage door.

The tears ran silently down the poor widow’s cheek as she led the children to her sick child’s room, for it touched her heart to see young and thoughtless children so attentive to her poor Lucy.  “And did you come all this way, you and Phil, Nelly, to bring me these nice strawberries?” without waiting for her to reply, she turned to a little choice tea-rose that stood beside her, and, breaking off two half-blown buds, she gave them to Phil and Nelly, saying as she did so, “It’s all I have to give you, darlings, for your kindness to me, but I know that you will like them as coming from your sick friend.”

The bright blood flashed over Phil’s dark brow and crimsoned even his ears.  Poor Phil!  The shame and remorse of those few minutes washed away his unthinking sin, and Nelly forgave him, and tried with all her power to make him forget it.  But the kind though thoughtless boy was not satisfied until he had sent Lucy a pretty little basket filled with rare and beautiful flowers, gathered from his father’s large garden.  Then, and not till then, did he look with pleasure upon the rose Lucy had given him.