"Miss Hobson, _don't_ tell any one as I haven't a black frock--no one but you knows; and it don't make a bit of difference so long as I think as _G.o.d_ sent it."

Miss Hobson stroked the little hand which lay on her sheet, and called out to Mrs. Seymour, who had turned away,

"Mrs. Seymour, I'm sorry as I was cross; and I wouldn't ha' said a word if I'd remembered in time."

Then she drew Cherry towards her, and asked her to give her a kiss.

"You've been a kind little girl to me all this month past, that you have, my dear; and you can go to that drawer there--the bottom one. In the left-hand corner you'll find a work-box. Will you bring it to me?"

Cherry did as desired, and when it was placed on the bed, Miss Hobson raised herself on her elbow.

"Yes," she said, "that's it. That was give to me when I was a young woman, all fitted up as nice as anything, with scissors, and thimble, and cottons and all. It was give to me by my young man as was drowned at sea, and I've kept it h.o.a.rded up this thirty years. But now I'm going to give it to you, Cherry. Why should it lie there when there's one of my Lord's little ones as 'ud be glad of it for their work?"

"Do you really mean for _me_, Miss Hobson?" asked Cherry, looking at the beautiful box as if she could not believe what she had heard.

"Yes; it will not make him as is gone seem more far off, for your havin'

it. He was always generous, and he'd have liked you to have it, as these poor old rheumatic fingers of mine can't use it no longer."

She wept a little, while Cherry stood by, hardly liking to take her at her word.

"You see, Cherry," Miss Hobson went on, cheering up as she spoke, "I've been too apt to think of myself all my life, so the Lord has made it so as I've only myself left to think about. And then He begins to teach me to think about Him. And every day, as I think about _Him_, I care less about myself, and more about Him. And so it comes to pa.s.s as He brings me you to think of too. And by-and-by He'll let me do something for you, perhaps, more'n giving you my dear work-box."

"I can't begin to thank you," said Cherry, "but it _is_ kind of you. I never saw such a nice one in my life. Are you sure as you won't be sorry as you've give it to me, Miss Hobson?"

"No--no, my dear; not so long as you take care on it."

She pa.s.sed her crooked suffering fingers over it tenderly; then, as if she could not help it, she raised herself and pressed a kiss upon the lid. Then she bade Cherry take it away and keep it as her own.

When Cherry showed her treasure to Mrs. Seymour she said--

"That's cost Miss Hobson a deal to give up, I can tell you. But when she thinks as her Lord would be pleased, she don't stick at it. It's for _His sake_, child!"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XIX.

LISTENING.

"Cherry, go down and ask Mrs. Blunt if any of them are going with us,"

said Meg, as they rose from breakfast the next morning. "Tell her we shall start at a quarter to eleven."

Cherry made her way to the ground floor, and knocked at Mrs. Blunt's door.

It was quickly opened by the eldest girl, with the baby in her arms. She did not ask Cherry to enter, but went back to her mother, who was busy in the other room.

Mrs. Blunt herself came forward, and spoke in a low tone.

"Ask 'em to be kind enough to knock as they come down, and if we're ready, we'll come."

Cherry nodded.

"How's little brother?"

"All right," answered Cherry, smiling; "he's so pleased as father-Jem is going to carry him; and he says as he'll sit as still as anythink."

"So do my Pattie. I've promised as I'll take her, if Blunt will go." She lowered her voice and half came outside. "I think he will--but men is men, my dear."

Cherry understood, and went up-stairs again with her report.

How proudly, when the time came, did she dress d.i.c.kie in his new hat and jacket, and sit with him on her knee telling him stories till the time that Meg should be ready.

Presently she came out of her room, and Cherry fancied that her eyes looked rather tearful.

"Well, my girl," said Jem, starting up from his chair, "we're none too soon. It is nice to have you to go along with me once more."

"I'm very thankful," she answered gently, turning towards the door.

Jem took d.i.c.kie up in his strong arms, while Cherry followed Meg to the stairs. She linked her arm confidingly in hers, and her golden hair fell over Meg's shoulder as she whispered,

"I know as we don't make up for the little baby, even though we do love you very much indeed, mother-Meg; I wish as I could do anything for you."

"You do a great deal for me, Cherry," said Meg affectionately, "and I'm very thankful that we've got you both. Doesn't d.i.c.kie look happy?"

He did indeed, his arms clasped round Jem's neck, his little face leaning on the broad shoulder.

Jem went out at the front door, while Meg tapped at Mrs. Blunt's.

"We're ready," announced the woman, "and it's mighty kind of you to wait for us."

She came out of her room, followed by her husband, who had brushed himself up as well as he was able.

Three or four of the children pressed out also, and Meg, seeing this, offered a hand to two of them, which gratified them very much.

Jem waited till Blunt came up, and they paced along together, while Mrs.

Blunt joined Cherry, and so they came to the Mission Room where Jem and Meg generally attended.

Jem went in first with his little frail burden, and when he had found seats for his friends, he followed Meg to where they usually sat.

When the hymn began, d.i.c.kie raised his head from Jem's breast with a light in his face. Meg was afraid he would speak, but Jem warned him by a low word, and after another moment Meg saw tear after tear come from his little sightless eyes. The first he had shed since he had been their child, she thought; and she took his little hand in hers and kissed it.

But that hymn went to another heart besides d.i.c.kie's.