"That will be as long as we shall want you, Biddy," said Nattie, langhing, and throwing the last of the shells into the grate.
"Would there be anything you'd be afther wanting me to do for ye now, Misthress Nasmlth?" Biddy asked, going to the bed.
"I would like to send this cup of jelly to Hattie Hartwell; the doctor told me yesterday how much the poor child was suffering with her throat, and could not swallow her food."
"Poor childer!" said Biddy. "Shure, an I'll do your bidding; but couldn't I do anything for your own self, to aise your pains? such as to bathe your head, or put up your pillows?"
The sick woman sighed, as she thought how much more kindness the Irish girl showed than her own daughter.
"I'd rather you would carry the jelly," she answered. "I told the doctor that it should be sent, and fear that the sick child will needlessly fret about it. I know that when one is sick, one
