"You're a very little girl to be sending these messages to grown-up people," said Joyce, eyeing her gravely. But Peggy in an instant smiled so radiantly that Joyce felt quite nonplussed. "Yes 'm, like the little maid in the Bible sent the leper capting to be cured. That's why, please 'm!" Joyce left her. "Peggy," she informed her sister, "is above and beyond me altogether!" CHAPTER VIII "A REAL LITTLE HOME MISSIONARY" MRS. DALE was rather astonished one morning when, coming into her sitting room to breakfast, she saw a rather crumpled note lying on her plate, directed in an uneducated hand:— "To Mrs. Webster's lady. "From Ellen's friend what spoke to you last Tuesday. With her respects and best wishes." She was still more astonished when she opened and read Peggy's recipe. And she read it, not once, nor twice, but she seemed to be weighing every word; and then slowly her eyes filled with tears. The interest of a little servant-maid in her welfare did not seem impertinent; it touched the heart that had till now been filled with aching bitterness. When Ellen came to clear away the breakfast things she spoke to her. "Did your little friend give you this note to give me?" she asked. Ellen crimsoned, then answered nervously— "Yes, please, mum. And I hope you'll excuse her, mum, if she have written anythin' not proper, for Peggy be different like to most of the folks here. You see, her come from Lunnon!" "So do I," said Mrs. Dale pleasantly. "If she comes to see you again, I should like to have a little chat with her." "Yes, mum, thank you." Ellen retreated in confusion; then she came back. "If you please, mum, you won't let on to missus that I give you a letter from Peggy. Her might think it forward, and I telled Peggy it were." Mrs. Dale promised, with a smile, that she would say nothing about it. Two days later she was walking out when she met Peggy with a basket of eggs on her arm. Peggy smiled broadly, and Mrs. Dale stopped her. "Thank you," she said, "for what you sent me the other day. I wonder what made you do it?" "Oh, please 'm," was the breathless reply, "I knowed you would be glad to hear what would be good for yer 'eart. You did tell me 'm you had the 'eartache, didn't you? And I has set my mind all along to be like that there little captive maid in the Bible. Only she had a sick capting, and I can't find one nowheres. And there be no prophets nowadays—only doctors, and they don't seem certain sure of theirselves bein' able to cure everybody. So, please 'm, I were very down'earted, and then I were told by a missionary gent and my missus that some people didn't know where to go to get their souls or 'earts cured. And, please 'm, I thought I'd just like to tell 'em, and I hopes you'll be quite well in your 'eart soon 'm; I does indeed." Her big blue eyes looked so earnest and confiding that Mrs. Dale felt she could not damp her ardour.