Shortly after this she was called into the little dining room by Helen, to receive her first wages. It was an eventful day in her life. She looked at the money as it was placed in her hand. It was half a sovereign. Never had she handled a gold coin before. Her aunt's money had been left to her in silver. "I am very pleased with you, Peggy," said Helen to her, "but of course you have still a great deal to learn. You are too noisy, too fond of talking, and break too many things. All this you must try to get the better of. I know you try to do your duty faithfully and well; ask God to help you to cure these faults." "Yes 'm," said Peggy, who was certainly learning humility. Then, with a little burst of enthusiasm, she added, "Please 'm, I've never had so much money of my own afore. May spend it just as I have a mind?" "I think you had better lay half by, for you will be wanting some new boots soon. You will have to be careful over it." A shade of disappointment came over Peggy's face. She took her treasured coin upstairs. "Now, Peg, don't you be a silly," was her advice to herself. "You does as your missus tells you. 'Tis the country that wears the boots so." She turned the half-sovereign over in her hand. "Five shillin's for boots, and five to make the other P. I'll ask missus to give it to me in silver to-morrow. But, oh my! How grand I am to be havin' gold of my own!" The next day she got her coin changed, but a pang went through her as she did so. It seemed as if she had only received it, to lose it at once. However, when she found an old stocking, and put five shillings carefully into it, her happy smile shone out again. Laboriously she wrote out on a piece of paper which she dropped inside with the money, "Margaret Perkins—Her heathen stocking." And then tying the stocking into a tight knot, she deposited it at the bottom of her box under her bed. "There, Peggy," she said, with a long-drawn sigh of relief, "now you've made a beginnin', mind you keep right on, and keep it secret from everybody. And then one day you'll walk up to the clergyman and you'll roll a stockin' of gold out at his foot for them there savage heathens. Oh my! 'Twill be grand!" One afternoon Joyce came into the kitchen where Peggy was cleaning her hearth. "Peggy, we want you to take a message for us. A walk will do you good. It is a lovely day. It is to Mallow Farm; you have to go through fields the whole way, but you can't make a mistake, as there is a beaten footpath. Take your time about it, and give this note to Mrs. Webster there. Bring us back an answer. We want her husband to supply us with some wood for our fires." Peggy departed with alacrity; Albert Edward accompanied her as a matter of course. She was directed where to go, and lifted up her little heart in gladness when she got out into the sweet spring air and sunshine. "Oh!" she said, sniffing vigorously, "I feel as if I could h'eat the air to-day. I'm quite hungry for it!"