"No, no, my child, never too quick," said the old lady; "and did you get a good bargain?" she added the next minute anxiously. "Were you careful in the spending of that shillin'? Why, I don't see any parcels. For mercy's sake child, don't tell me that you dropped the shillin'." "No, I didn't, Grannie; here it is. Somehow I am out of humor for bargains to-night--that's why I come back." Grannie took back the precious shilling tenderly. She went to the cupboard and restored it to her purse. As she did so, she gave a sigh of relief. She was full of respect for Alison's powers, but not as a bargainer; she was certain she could get a penny-worth more value out of the shilling than her grand-daughter would. "Dave," she said, turning to the lad as she spoke, "Ally and I have made up our minds that, whatever happens, we'll have a right good Christmas. We'll have a puddin' and snap-dragon, and a little bit of beef, and everything hot and tasty, and we'll have the stockings hung up just as usual by the children's beds; bless 'em, we'll manage it somehow--somehow or other it has got to be done. Who knows but perhaps cheerful times may follow Christmas? Yes, who knows? There's never no use in being downhearted." "I suppose you are thinkin' of a wedding," said Alison suddenly. "Well, dear child, and why not?" "There's not much chance of it," was the reply, in a defiant tone. "Anyhow," continued Alison, "I've made up my mind to look for another situation to-morrow." Grannie's little white face became clouded. "I am going to Oxford Street, to a registry office," said Alison. "I know lots about counter work, and I don't doubt that I may get a very good place; anyhow, I'm going to try." "Well, that's sperit, there's no denying that," said the old lady; "it's in the breed, and it can't be crushed." "David, what are you hiding under the table?" said Alison, in a fretful tone. She felt too unhappy to be civil to anyone. "I have got spirit, too, and I'm not ashamed," said David suddenly. "It's a bit o' stuff I'm feather-stitching; there--I am learning the stitch." "Well!" said Alison; "you, a boy?" "Yes, I--a boy," he replied, looking her full between the eyes. There was something in the fearless glance of his gray eyes that caused her to lower her own--ashamed. "Dave's the blessing of my life," said Mrs. Reed; "he has learned the stitch, and though he do it slow, he do it true and beautiful. It shan't never now die out of the fam'ly." CHAPTER VIII.