‘He followed the woman with the baby,’ said the little girl who had purchased the rocking-chair; then pursing up her mouth with an expression as near contempt as such a pretty mouth could wear, she inquired, ‘Is she your aunt?’

The angry blood rushed in a flood to Effie’s face, but she quickly subdued it, and with ready thought replied, ‘No, my sister.’

It was now the turn of the stranger girl to blush, and at the same time she cast upon her new companion a slight glance of surprise.  She then turned over with her fingers her new toys, glanced at the rocking-chair, and seemingly dissatisfied with all, again turned to Effie.

‘Please give her this,’ she said, putting the remaining shilling in her hand.  ’I know what you mean, my mother taught me that, but—­she is dead now.’

‘If Harry finds where the poor woman lives,’ returned Effie, ’we will go there together.’  The little girl seemed to waver for a moment, then said hastily, ‘No, I must go home—­give the money to her,’ and hurried away as fast as the crowd would permit.  In a few moments Harry returned.  He had found out where the poor woman lived, but it was a great distance, and he was too considerate to leave his sister alone.  Harry was not one of those philanthropists who, in doing a great amount of good, become blind to trifles; for his father had taught him, that duties never interfere with each other, and he knew that he owed Effie every care and attention.  I have often observed that those children, who are the most kind and considerate to brothers and sisters, always shew more justice and generosity to others, than those who think such attentions of but little importance.

Harry found out but little more of the woman, than that she was poor, and sick, and friendless.  Her baby too, her only comfort, was wasting away before her eyes, whether of disease or for lack of food, she did not tell, and there was none to help her.

‘We will speak to father about her,’ said Harry, as they proceeded homeward, ’perhaps he can do something for them,—­it is a sweet little baby, Effie, with a skin clear and white, and eyes—­oh, you never saw such eyes! they look so soft and loving, that you would think the poor thing knew every word you said, and how I pitied it.  I could hardly help crying, Effie.’

‘I am glad you followed the poor woman.’

’So am I. But Effie, you don’t know how vexed I was with that selfish little miss, that bought the rocking-chair.’

‘Harry!’

’Now, don’t go to taking her part, Effie, it will do no good, I can tell you; she is the most selfish and unfeeling little girl that I ever saw.  Because the woman wore an old bonnet, she couldn’t help her—­only think of that! how mean!’

’She—­O Harry! now I know what mother meant when she talked to me so much about having charity for people, and told me that we could not always judge the heart by the actions.  I thought as badly of her as you at first, but I’m sure now she is not unfeeling.’