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FRANCES BEAUMONT.


“Ah, I wish that I had one, indeed.”

"And what would be your first wish?"

"A new frock—for Miss Marshall says mine is so shabby she will be ashamed to walk with me."

"It is very wrong of Miss Marshall to say any such thing, but come up stairs with me, and we will see whether we shall not do very well without either fairy or god mother."

Fanny ran rapidly towards her own room, followed by her little companion. "Look there," exclaimed she. Emmeline looked in the direction to which she pointed; and, laid out on the bed, was a little white muslin frock, trimmed with white satin ribbon. "Who do you think that is for?"

Emmeline looked first at the frock, it was just the length of her own: then in the smiling face of her youthful friend—she could not speak, a hope too delightful for expression had lighted up her large dark eyes.

"Yes, it is for you, my little Emmeline must wear it for my sake." Emmeline threw her arms