"None whatever, none. There's nothing you could have thought of that would give me greater joy."

"Then it's settled," and a kiss--no, it was more than one--sealed the bargain. And then those two women involuntarily knelt down, and the elder one in a quavering voice prayed: "Father, I have followed Your directions, which You whispered to me as I came along the road to-night.

Miss Phebe and I love each other, we are going to help each other; do bless us both. Let us feel just now You are blessing us." A pause.

"Thank You. The peace in our hearts is the token. We love each other.

Tighten with Your own hand, dear Father, the knot. From this moment may this business prosper. May the business be altogether Yours. And bless the two dear bairns. Help me to be another Hannah."

When they rose from their feet Mrs. Colston said: "Before I go I must just have a peep at my charges."

"Of course you shall," said Phebe, beginning at once to lead the way.

"How I wish you were not going away from me to-night. I wish you could stay right off."

"I must go to-night, dearie; but I shall not be very long before I'm back, bag and baggage. Janie won't mind me coming, I know."

"She will be delighted."

The two children were in Phebe's bedroom, Queenie in a little cot to herself. They were both asleep. The sight of a sleeping infant always suggests the thought of angels. It is not always the fear of waking a sleeping child that makes the heaviest feet go on tip-toe, but the awe which comes from the near presence of heavenly visitants. To be near a sleeping child is to be near Heaven.

Jack was a fair-haired, rosy-cheeked, chubby child. One little arm lay under his head, and a smile seemed playing round his lips. He seemed almost like a picture of sunshine asleep. Mrs. Colston stooped down and kissed him--what woman could have helped doing so? She had once said she believed Jesus kissed His disciples, because Mark used the words, "When He had taken leave of them"--and Easterns took leave by kissing.

Then she went to look at Queenie. Poor little Queenie! A dark-haired, sad-faced darling. Mrs. Colston could hardly have explained how it was she turned so quickly away from the little crib after ever such a hurried kiss. Perhaps it was because she had seen a mark on the child.

Her father had been a forester, and often when out walking with him along the forest pathways she had seen a mark on some of the trees and knew by that sign they would soon be lying prostrate, stripped of all their green grandeur. It was not so much of the child she was thinking as of the child's mother.

But when she reached the little parlour again, her face was as bright as ever. "I want you," she said to Phebe, "to let me teach the children to call me 'Nanna.' I had a friend once who was called 'Nanna.' Nothing could make me more proud than to think I was a second 'Nanna.'"

"On certain conditions," said Phebe. "You are having it all your own way to-night. Now it is my turn."

"What are they?"

"That you call me Phebe, and that I call you 'Nanna,' too. I do so want to be mothered, and no one can do it but you." The little speech began with a laugh, but ended with something like a sob. How many there are who want "mothering," and how many could do "mothering" if they chose!

"That's another bargain."

"May I come in?" It was Neighbour Bessie's voice.

"Bessie comes in each night to bid me good-night," explained Phebe. "You couldn't guess what good news I have to tell you," she continued, turning to Bessie.

"Not that----" stammered Bessie.

"Nothing about Mr. Waring!" quickly put in Phebe; and then Bessie was told the whole story. She was sitting on a little stool near the fire by the side of Mrs. Colston.

"I am downright glad for your sake, Mrs. Waring," she exclaimed heartily. "It's just what you were wanting; but, oh dear," resting her chin on her hands, "there's lots of good times a-going, but I'm never in them."

"Why, my dear child, you are always in them," exclaimed Mrs. Colston, patting her head.

"Well, I should like very much to know how you reckon that sum up."

"I reckon it up out of the Bible. You are one of those who have a continual feast."

"A continual pickle, you should say, to be correct."

"No, 'feast.' I know one riddle--and only one. Can you guess it? What is the longest feast mentioned in the Bible?"

"I know," answered Bessie, laughing, "because you've done as good as tell it already: 'A merry heart is a continual feast.' But I haven't got the merry heart, you see. Now, why couldn't it have been arranged for me to be Mrs. Waring's partner?"

"That I cannot tell. That's the Sunshine Patch meant for me. Your Sunshine Patch is all round you already, only you are given to looking too much over the fence."

Thus, without any pillar of cloud, or shining light, or glittering gems, guidance came.

CHAPTER IX

A WOMAN'S WHIMS

It did not take Mrs. Colston long to sell up some of her furniture and the goodwill of her mangle, and settle down in her new quarters and to her new duties. By that time the three hundred pounds had not only been drawn out, but used, partly in paying debts and partly in adding to stock. On one point Phebe was very firm, and that was that a legal doc.u.ment be drawn up acknowledging the loan and agreeing to pay interest at five per cent. Not that Phebe considered that would cover all her liability. "As I prosper--if I do prosper," she said to Mrs. Colston, "you shall prosper too. We will be real partners."

"I don't want any of that lawyer's writing. Your word is sufficient,"

said Mrs. Colston.

"That may be, but I might be taken away, or some one else might step in," replied Phebe quietly.

Mrs. Colston quickly saw what was in Phebe's mind, and wisely forbore saying anything further. When Nanna had been duly installed, not only by mistress Phebe and Janie but also by their majesties, Queenie and Jack, Phebe took hold of the business reins in true-going style.

The first thing was to inst.i.tute several reforms. One cla.s.s of goods which had usually been sold under different prices received one fixed price; charges to different customers were made uniform.

Reynolds was shocked.

"So-and-so," said he, "will think the things are common if you don't put the price on."

"Then shall we level up, instead of levelling down?" asked the shrewd mistress.

"Oh, dear, no; for Mrs. Dash will deal somewhere else if she doesn't think she's having things extra cheap."

"I cannot help all these little peculiarities," said Phebe. "I mean to run this business on true, straight lines, whatever happens."

Reynolds wanted to say something about it being a woman's whim, but somehow or other the words would not come out. But a climax was reached when he felt that to keep silence longer would be guilty; this was when Phebe announced that in future the entire establishment would be closed every Sat.u.r.day evening at eight o'clock.

"Mrs. Waring!" he exclaimed; "you have no idea what sacrifice you are making. If it is your a.s.sistants you are considering, why not close earlier on Wednesdays?"

"I intend to do that as well," she replied graciously; "but I may as well be frank with you and say it is _not_ out of consideration to my a.s.sistants I am closing earlier on Sat.u.r.days."

"Then why do it? I want the business to be a success, and I am sure you do; but this plan, you will excuse me saying so, will be a dead loss.

Why, we take as much sometimes on a Sat.u.r.day evening as we do all day on Wednesday! And folks will say if we are so independent of their custom, they'll see we do without it altogether."

"Thank you most sincerely, Reynolds, for so unselfishly studying my interests. But your reasoning is a little at fault," she added, with a laugh. "If people think we can afford to be independent, that is the very best advertis.e.m.e.nt we could have, for you know the old saying, 'Nothing succeeds like success.' But neither success nor non-success weighs with me in this matter."