But when these operations were all over, Nurse set out the little table, and covered it with a clean towel for a table cloth, and placed Lily's pretty wicker chair beside it. And when the real nursery teatime came, she gave Lily a lump of sugar, broken into little bits with the scissors, and two nice, dry biscuits to play with. So fat little Lily was mightily contented, and spread out her toys, and played at making tea for her dolls, while she herself ate up the biscuits and sugar with great delight. And by-and-bye Mamma came up to see how all was going on, before she went down to dinner, and she found her pet, trotting round the little table and humming like a big humble bee.

And so the time went merrily by, and if we had a few misfortunes, still we got on pretty well. To be sure, I gained this I gained this great dint in my side owing to my little mistress setting the leg of her chair suddenly on me. And some of the saucers and plates were swept up with the dust, and thrown away by a new, careless nursery maid. But on the whole we were rather well off, for Nurse was a patient, orderly woman, and went round the day nursery every evening

herself, picking up the pet's playthings and putting them away.

And as for dear little merry Lily, she grew and throve, like a sweet-tempered child as she was, as fair as her namesake blossoms. She had called herself "Fower" in her childish talk, because Lily was not easily managed by her little tongue, and she had quite understood that she was called after the pretty-looking, innocent, white flowers that blossomed in the same month as her birthday fell in, the merry month of May.

One unfortunate day when we had been there some time, to the amazement of Nurse, she got up in such a fretful, cross humour nothing would pacify her. This was unusual, and so was her turning away from her nice bread and milk, and crying peevishly when she was spoken to. The poor child was evidently ailing, and Nurse lost no time in sending down word of it to her mistress. The fond mother hurried upstairs, but little Lily would only cling to her and sob, and bury her flushed face on her shoulder. So the doctor was sent for in haste, and he came quickly, and pronounced that the little one was sickening for some illness; measles, he hoped, but he could

not positively say. So poor Mamma sat there, and gave Lily the medicine, and tried to amuse her with setting us in order before her. But Lily pushed us all away so hastily that we rolled to all corners of the room, and Nurse was too busy and sad to pick us up in a hurry that day, or for many days after.

For poor little Lily grew worse, and the doctor pronounced it to be fever, and of a very severe kind. Days and days the little feverish head tossed wearily on the pillow, and then all the golden curls were cut off, matted as they were, and laid aside carefully in a drawer by poor Nurse, who cried over them as if her heart would break. The fever subsided, but the little exhausted body had not strength to recover from it, and she grew daily weaker, quite too weak to be removed to a fresh air. Poor Nurse picked us up one night, half unconsciously, and put us back in the old toy drawer, where we remained, till one afternoon she came hastily to fetch us out again. She carried us downstairs into the beautiful bed-room where Mrs. Arden slept. But both Papa and Mamma were too anxious about their only darling to be very particular

about their own comfort, and so her father slept in his dressing-room close by, while the mother kept a ceaseless watch by the sick bed.

When the lid was taken off, and nurse turned us out on the white counterpane, I could hardly recognise my little mistress. Did these sunken cheeks and hollow eyes, these little wasted hands belong to the "Fower," as she had called herself? She was indeed a faded flower, a drooping lily, and her bright, golden curls were all gone, like her rosy, childish bloom. But sickness had not been able to subdue the innocent, loving nature and bright spirit; and though the smile on her pale little mouth made her mother turn away in tears, it was the same happy tone in the weak thread of a voice that whispered:

"Fower make tea now! Fower been so sick, but see like some tea! mother make it now!" and the little head, shorn so sadly of its golden glories, fell back weakly on the pillow, and the sudden gleam of light died out of the blue eyes.

"Yes, dear one, mother will make tea for 'Flower,' so many cups; and when Lily gets better and grows a strong girl again, mother

and she will have feasts every day, and all day long."

"Fower like that, but so tired;" breathed the little one, feebly, and so Nurse hastened to catch us all up from the bed, and hurriedly cramming us into the box, she put us on the dressing table.

Next day "Fower" seemed to brighten up a little, and when we were laid out on the bed, she took us up languidly, and pretended to drink. But she was soon weary, and even our slight weight was too heavy for the frail hand. And so day after day passed by with no great change, finding us each morning laid out on the bed, near the little weary hands, tired of doing nothing; and afternoon saw us gathered away, while the curtains were drawn across the window to keep out the bright glare of the spring sunshine. And day by day the tender mother hoped on, while the more experienced Nurse shook her head, and the skilful doctor was silent, though so very gentle with the anxious mother and the little drooping child.

At last a day came, one of the early ones in May, when even Lee thought Lily looked clearer