"And so," he pursued, "the matter seems to me to stand like this: 'Is this what your dear little hand finds to do, or ain't it?'" Meg sat thoughtfully silent for a few moments, and Jem got his hat. Then he came over to bid her good-bye. "I won't forget the flour, little woman." "And I won't forget what you've said, Jem. I think my hand does find it to do." He kissed her tenderly. "If we bring everythin' as we're doubtful of to whether He would like it----" Meg nodded; and then he was gone, and she stood alone. But in a moment his step was heard coming up, and his bright face peeped in. "How much yeast did you say?" "Oh, a halfpenny worth--if they would sell it--half an ounce, Jem; that will make up five pounds of flour well." "All right." This time she heard his step go to the bottom, and then she turned round and began to think of her day's work. "I'll run up and ask mother first," she said; and locking her door, which they were obliged to do in a house with so many lodgers, she ran up-stairs. In answer to her knock a rather far-off voice called "Come in." She pushed open the door and entered, but Mrs. Seymour was nowhere to be seen. The bed-room door adjoining was ajar, but Meg hesitated to knock there, as she was sure her mother had said she had a lodger. But in another moment a voice from within said, "Come in here, please; I can't bear to speak loud." To Meg's great surprise the speaker's voice came from the further of two beds, and a wan pale face, belonging to an elderly woman, raised itself a little from the pillow. "Did you want me to come in?" asked Meg, hesitating with a fluttering heart. "Yes. Mrs. Seymour's run down to find Jenny; she promised to be up early, and she ain't come. You're young Mrs. Seymour, I suppose?" Meg blushed as she answered, "Yes." She had hardly ever heard herself called by her new name. "She won't be but a minute. Sit down, will yer. You didn't 'spect to find some one here, by your looks?" "No," answered Meg. The invalid shook her head. "Ah, to think now I should see you before I've been made straight for the day, after all!" Meg did not reply; but thinking it might be unkind to go back, she sat down on the edge of a chair, and tried to think of something to say. "I've heard of you before to-day," said her mother-in-law's lodger, with an attempt at a smile. "Have you?" asked Meg. "And what's more, I've done for you what I wouldn't ha' believed any one would ha' persuaded me to do. But it was all along of Jem's kindness, and Mrs. Seymour's kindness." "For me?" echoed Meg. "For you. When Jem told me he wanted me to move up here, out of my back room--yours, as is now--I flatly refused, that I did." "Oh," said Meg, "was it you who did that for me?"