“You must do everything as I tell you,” Mrs. Chatterton leaned forward, and said with great deliberateness, “else you will lose this chance to help your mother.  And you will never have another like it, but will grow up to be a good-for-nothing little thing when Polly and all the rest are earning money for your Mamsie, as you call her.”

“I shall earn money too,” declared Phronsie on a high note, and nodding her yellow head with great decision.

“Never!” Mrs. Chatterton brought her foot, incased in its black satin slipper, down with force on the carpet.  “You will never earn a cent of money in all this world, unless you do exactly as I say; for you are a child who hasn’t it in her to learn anything.  But you can help me, and I shall teach you many things, and do well by you.”

“When I grow a big girl, will anybody want me to do those things that you are going to teach me?” asked Phronsie, drawing near to lay her hand on the stiff black gown, and speaking earnestly.  “Then if they will, I’ll try to do them just exactly as you tell me.”

“Of course they will,” declared Mrs. Chatterton carefully, edging off from the little fingers; “ever so many people will want you, Phronsie.  And I shall give you a great deal of money.”

“I shall give it all to Mamsie,” interrupted Phronsie, her brown eyes dilating quickly, “every single twenty-five cents you give me.  Then I guess she will be glad, don’t you?” she cried, clasping her hands in sudden rapture, while she began to dance up and down.

“I shall give you so many twenty-five cents,” cried Mrs. Chatterton, beginning to feel her old heart beat with more enthusiasm than she had known for many a day, “that you will be very rich, Phronsie.”

“Oh-oh!” cried Phronsie, coming to an abrupt pause in the middle of the floor, her cheek paling in excitement.  And then she could say no more.

“But you must do exactly as I tell you.”  Mrs. Chatterton leaned forward suddenly, and seized the little hands, now so still in their delight.  “Remember, it is only when you follow my commands in every single thing that you will have any chance of earning all this money for your mother, and helping her just at Polly is going to do.  Remember now, Phronsie!”

“I will remember,” said Phronsie slowly, as her hands were released.

“Very good.  We will begin now then.”  Mrs. Chatterton threw herself back in her chair, and drew a long breath.  “Lucky I found the child alone, and so tractable.  It’s singularly good fortune,” she muttered.  “Well,” aloud, with a light laugh, “now, Phronsie, if you are going to be your mother’s helper, why, this is your first duty.  Let us see how well you perform it.  Run upstairs to the closet out of the lumber-room, and open the little black box on the shelf in front of the door—­the box isn’t locked—­and bring me the roll of black velvet ribbon you will find there.”