On the 15th of May the club met for the last time that season, as some left town early, and all were full of spring work and summer plans.  Every member was in her place at an unusually early hour that day, and each wore an air of mingled anxiety, expectation, and satisfaction, pleasant to behold.  Anna called them to order with three raps of her thimble and a beaming smile.

“We need not choose a book for our reading to-day, as each of us is to contribute an original history of her winter’s work.  I know it will be very interesting, and I hope more instructive, than some of the novels we have read.  Who shall begin?”

“You! you!” was the unanimous answer; for all loved and respected her very much, and felt that their presiding officer should open the ball.

Anna colored modestly, but surprised her friends by the composure with which she related her little story, quite as if used to public speaking.

“You know I told you last November that I should have to look about for something that I could do.  I did look a long time, and was rather in despair, when my task came to me in the most unexpected way.  Our winter work was being done, so I had a good deal of shopping on my hands, and found it less a bore than usual, because I liked to watch the shop-girls, and wish I dared ask some of them if I could help them.  I went often to get trimmings and buttons at Cotton’s, and had a good deal to do with the two girls at that counter.  They were very obliging and patient about matching some jet ornaments for Mamma, and I found out that their names were Mary and Maria Porter.  I liked them, for they were very neat and plain in their dress,—­not like some, who seem to think that if their waists are small, and their hair dressed in the fashion, it is no matter how soiled their collars are, nor how untidy their nails.  Well, one day when I went for certain kinds of buttons which were to be made for us, Maria, the younger one, who took the order, was not there.  I asked for her, and Mary said she was at home with a lame knee.  I was so sorry, and ventured to put a few questions in a friendly way.  Mary seemed glad to tell her troubles, and I found that ‘Ria,’ as she called her sister, had been suffering for a long time, but did not complain for fear of losing her place.  No stools are allowed at Cotton’s, so the poor girls stand nearly all day, or rest a minute now and then on a half-opened drawer.  I’d seen Maria doing it, and wondered why some one did not make a stir about seats in this place, as they have in other stores and got stools for the shop women.  I didn’t dare to speak to the gentlemen, but I gave Mary the Jack roses I wore in my breast, and asked if I might take some books or flowers to poor Maria.  It was lovely to see her sad face light up and hear her thank me when I went to see her, for she was very lonely without her sister, and discouraged about her place.  She did not lose it entirely, but had to work at home, for