The sun shone next morning, hope woke again, and as she dressed Jessie sung to keep her heart up, still trusting that some one would remember her before the day was over.  As she opened her windows the sparrows welcomed her with shrill chirpings, and the sun turned the snow-covered vine to a glittering network very beautiful to see as it hung like a veil of lace over the dingy wall.  Jessie smiled as she saw it, while taking a long breath of the keen air, feeling cheered and refreshed by these familiar comforters; then with a brave, bright glance up at the clear blue sky she went away to the day’s duties, little guessing what pleasant surprises were on their way to reward her for the little sacrifices which were teaching her strength, patience, and courage for greater ones by-and-by.

All the morning she listened eagerly for the bell, but nothing came; and at two o’clock she went away to the dancing-class, saying to herself with a sigh,—­

“Every one is so busy, it is no wonder I’m forgotten.  I shall hear about the fun in the papers, and try to be contented with that.”

Though she never felt less like dancing, she was very patient with her little pupils, and when the lesson was over sat resting a moment, with her head still full of the glories of the Kirmess.  Suddenly Mademoiselle came to her, and in a few kind words gave her the first of the pleasant surprises by offering her a larger salary, an older class, and many commendations for her skill and faithfulness.  Of course she gratefully accepted the welcome offer, and hurried home to tell Laura, forgetting her heavy heart, tired feet, and disappointed hopes.

At her own door the second surprise stood waiting for her, in the person of Mrs. Fletcher’s servant with a large box and a note from Miss Fanny.  How she ever got herself and her parcel up the long stairs Jessie never knew, she was in such a frantic hurry to see what that vast box could contain.  She startled her sister by bursting into the room breathless, flushed, and beaming, with the mysterious cry of,—­

“Scissors! quick, the scissors!”

Off went cords and papers, up flew the cover, and with a shriek of rapture Jessie saw the well-known Hungarian costume lying there before her.  What it all meant she could not guess, till she tore open the note and read these delightful words:—­

Dear Jess,—­My cold is worse, and the doctor won’t let me go to-night.  Isn’t it dreadful?  Our dance will be ruined unless you will take my place.  I know you will to oblige us, and have a lovely time.  Every one will be glad, you do it so much better than I can.  My dress will fit you, with tucks and reefs here and there; and the hoots won’t be much too large, for though I’m fat I have small feet, thank goodness!  Mamma will call for you at seven, and bring you safely home; and you must come early to-morrow and tell me all about it.

In the small box you will find a little token of our gratitude to you for your kindness in helping us all so much.  Yours ever,