Randall had almost ceased to wonder why her neighbor should have intruded upon her at this unseasonable hour. Mrs. Hamilton made friends with Jack in a way that won his heart at once, and Betty sat watching her with frank admiration. At last the visitor said:

"And now I must really explain my reason for troubling you at this time of the evening, Mrs. Randall. My little Winifred has taken a great fancy to your Betty, and is most anxious to make the acquaintance of Jack as well. She and I are going for a drive in the park to-morrow afternoon, and I have come to ask you if you will allow Betty and Jack to go with us."

The color deepened in Mrs. Randall's face, and she began to be a little formal again.

"You are very kind," she began politely, "but I am afraid——"

A low exclamation from both children checked the words on her lips, and she glanced anxiously from one eager little face to the other. Betty was actually pale with suppressed excitement, and Jack's blue eyes said unutterable things.

"You needn't be afraid to trust Jack to us," Mrs. Hamilton went on, just as if she had not heard her hostess's courteous words; "the janitor can carry him up and down stairs, and I promise to take the very best care of him."

"You are very kind," Mrs. Randall said again, and this time there was more warmth in her tone. "The children would enjoy it immensely, I know. You would like to go, wouldn't you, Jack, darling?"

"Like it! Oh, mother, I should love it better than anything in the world."

Of course there was no more hesitation after that, and when Mrs. Hamilton went downstairs ten minutes later, it was to tell Winifred the good news that Mrs. Randall had given her consent, and that the carriage was to be ordered for three o'clock the following afternoon.

"I rather like Mrs. Randall," Mrs. Hamilton said to her husband when Winifred had slipped away to her room, to tell her children all about her Thank Offering; "she is a lady, one can see that at once, and, oh, Phil, she was playing the piano when I went upstairs. I haven't heard such music in years. I think she has seen better days, and is inclined to resent anything that seems like patronage. There is a look in her eyes that somehow made my heart ache."

Mrs. Randall was very silent for some time after her visitor had left. She closed the piano, and went away to sit by herself in her dark little bedroom, leaving the children to chatter over the delightful prospect for the morrow, and when she came back to put Jack to bed, her eyes looked as if she had been crying.

"Mother," whispered the little boy, laying his cheek softly against his mother's as she bent to give him a last good-night kiss, "you aren't sorry you said yes, are you?"

"No, darling," she answered tenderly; "I can never be sorry about anything that gives my little boy pleasure, but, oh, Jack dear, I wish I had the money to take you myself."

Betty's first action on waking the next morning was to rush to the window to ascertain the state of the weather.

"It's perfectly lovely, Jack," she announced joyfully, running from the room she shared with her mother into the tiny one Jack occupied. "The sun is shining as bright as can be, there isn't a cloud in the sky. Here's your birthday present; it's only a box of drawing pencils, but I couldn't go far enough to buy anything else yesterday, and I thought you'd like it."

Jack, who was already sitting up in bed, hugging a new story book, assured his sister that drawing pencils were the very things he most wanted.

"And see what mother gave me," he added, holding up the new book for Betty's inspection, "'The Boys of Seventy-six.' Oh, Betty, I do think birthdays are lovely things, don't you?"

That was a busy morning for the Randalls. Being Saturday, there were no lessons for Mrs. Randall to give, but there was all the weekly house-cleaning to be done, and Betty and her mother worked steadily until luncheon time. If Mrs. Randall had ancestors, she had also plenty of good common sense. She was not too proud to work for her little ones, however unwilling she might be to accept favors for them from others, and she plied broom and mop to such good purpose that by twelve o'clock the little home was the very picture of neatness and order. Jack lay on the sofa as usual, too happy in eager anticipations for the afternoon to forget them even in the interest of his new story book.

Mrs. Randall went out for a little while after luncheon, returning with a pretty blue sailor cap for Jack. The thought had suddenly occurred to Betty that her brother possessed no outdoor garments, and for a moment she was filled with dismay, but her mother assured her that, with the aid of her own long cape and the new sailor cap, the little boy would do very well indeed.

"I wish I had time to finish your new dress though, dear," she said, glancing regretfully at the darn in Betty's skirt. "I tried to do it last night, but my eyes hurt me, and I was afraid to work any longer."

"I don't mind one bit," declared Betty, remembering to have wakened in the night just as the clock was striking twelve, and found her mother's place in bed still empty. "I think this dress is nice enough, and I'm sure Mrs. Hamilton and Winifred are too kind to care about what people wear."

"I care though," said Mrs. Randall with a sigh; "I should like to have people think that my little girl was a lady."

"Well, if I behave nicely and am ladylike, won't they think so any way?" inquired Betty innocently. At which her mother smiled in spite of herself, and gave her a kiss.

At three o'clock precisely there was a ring at the door bell, and Mrs. Hamilton appeared. She was closely followed by Mr. Jones, the good-natured janitor, who lifted Jack in his strong arms and carried him downstairs as easily as if he had been a baby. Mrs. Randall accompanied the party to the sidewalk, and stood by, watching anxiously while the little cripple was placed carefully and tenderly on the seat of the comfortable carriage Mrs. Hamilton had procured. She looked so sad and wistful that kind Mrs. Hamilton longed to ask her to take her place in the carriage, but dared not, lest in doing so she might arouse her neighbor's sensitive pride.

At last all was ready, Mrs. Hamilton and the two little girls were in their places, and the carriage moved slowly away from the door.

"Good-bye, mother, dear," cried Jack, waving his thin little hand as he leaned comfortably back among his pillows; "I'm having such a lovely, lovely time."

There were tears in Mrs. Randall's dark eyes as she turned away, and when she had gone back to her own rooms, instead of at once settling down to her afternoon's sewing, she threw herself wearily upon Jack's sofa and buried her face in the pillows with a sob.

What a drive that was! I don't think any one of those four people will ever forget it.

"It was one of the loveliest experiences I ever had in my life, Phil," Mrs. Hamilton told her husband that evening with tears in her eyes. "To see that dear little fellow's wonder and delight over the very simplest things was enough to make one ashamed of ever having been dissatisfied with one's lot or discontented about anything. I never before in my life saw any one so perfectly happy."

It was pretty to see the devotion of the two little girls to the poor crippled boy.

"Are you quite sure you're comfortable, Jack?" Winifred kept asking over and over again, while Betty looked anxiously into her brother's radiant face to make sure he was not getting tired.

It was a glorious spring afternoon, and the park had never looked more lovely. How Jack enjoyed it no words could describe.

"I don't