"Yes," whispered Mary, while the poor woman's face flushed, and her lip quivered. Mary glanced at Edwin, and remembered her errand. "Mrs. Graffam," said she, "I know that the blue-berry parties must be a great trouble to you, and we would not have come here for water, only Eddy is not very well." "You are welcome to as much water as you want," interrupted Mrs. Graffam, "and so is any one who can treat us with civility. We are very poor, it is true, and that is not our greatest misfortune either; but it is hard to be despised." While Mary was gone for the water, Emma sat looking at the sick baby, and noticed, that though the weather was warm, its skeleton limbs looked blue and cold. She was going to advise the mother to wrap it in flannel, when the thought that perhaps the poor woman had none, prevented her speaking: for Christian courtesy never says to the poor "Be ye warmed and clothed," while it provides not the things which are necessary; and fortunately Emma thought it time enough to speak of what the poor child needed, when she had _supplied_ that need. Edwin was greatly refreshed by his drink of cold water, and kissing the sick child, he thanked Mrs. Graffam, and was ready to go. "There is a good old lady living with my mother," said Emma, "who is used to sickness, and might know what to do for your babe, Mrs. Graffam; shall I ask her to come with me, and see you?" "I shall be glad to see anybody," was the reply, "who is like you or your little friends;" and bidding the poor woman a good-by, they went back to the plain. Henry Boyd remembered his promise to Mrs. Lindsay, and before the sun was down the company were on their way home. The talk and clatter of the morning were now hushed. Joshua whistled, while his horse plodded lazily along, until Fanny peevishly bade him "hold his tongue." "Anybody does that," said Joshua, "when he whistles!" but he good-naturedly stopped. Margaret Sliver undertook to repeat some poetry composed by Susan, upon the setting sun:-- The setting sun is going down Behind the western hills; It glitters like a golden crown,---- "What is the last line, Susan?" asked Margaret; but Susan was not flattered by the way her poetry had been handled at the dinner-table, and now she refused to supply the missing rhyme. The setting sun is going down Behind the western hills, pursued Margaret; It glitters like a golden crown, "_On top of Motley's Mills!_" added Alice; while Fanny, calling out to Henry Boyd, repeated the whole verse as Susan's poetry, bidding him ask Miss Lindsay if Montgomery could beat that. Susan was highly offended, saying that she considered herself insulted, and chose to walk the remainder of the way. "O no, Miss Sliver," said Joshua; "never mind Fanny Brighton--she is only one of the blunt sort, saying right to your face what other folks would say behind your back."