"Miss Bennett told me not to tell," said the boy, unconscious that he
had already told.

The next day Miss Bennett sat at the window knitting, as usual--for her
constant contribution to the poor fund of the church was a certain
number of stockings and mittens--when she saw a young girl coming up to
the door of the cottage.

"Who can that be?" she said to herself. "I never saw her before. Come
in!" she called; in answer to a knock. The girl entered, and walked up
to Miss Bennett.

"Are you Miss Bennett?" she asked.

"Yes," said Miss Bennett with an amused smile,

"Well, I'm Hetty Stanley."

Miss Bennett started, and her colour grew a little brighter.

"I'm glad to see you, Hetty." she said, "won't you sit down?"

"Yes, if you please," said Hetty, taking a chair near her.

"I came to tell you how much we love you for--"

"Oh, don't! don't say any more!" interrupted Miss Bennett; "never mind
that! Tell me about your mother and your baby brother."

This was an interesting subject, and they talked earnestly about it.