Little Sunbeam by Eleanora H. Stooke

THE daffodil blooms had all been gathered; March had given place to April; and, day by day, Peggy was improving in health, whilst roses-faint as yet, it is true-were appearing in her cheeks. The doctor's prescription of a change of air was evidently what she had needed; and Mrs. Tiddy was much gratified at being able to write most cheering reports of her visitor's condition to Mrs. Pringle, who read them aloud to her husband and Billy with deep thankfulness in her heart.

"How we shall miss the child when she leaves us! " Mr. Tiddy remarked to his wife one evening, as they strolled up and down the path in front of the house when the work of the day was over, listening to the music which Peggy's fingers were drawing from the piano in the parlour. The little girl was naturally musical and had been well taught by her father, who had often told her that if she worked hard and practised industriously, she might become a real musician some day, and to be a real musician was her most earnest desire.