She felt inclined to go up to her mother-in-law and excuse herself for to-day; but the remembrance of Jenny's breach of faith made her pause. "No," she said to herself, "even if my bread has to be given up for to-day I must not disappoint mother." She ran up again and tapped at Mrs. Seymour's door. "Mother, I want to arrange my work; how long will your ironing take me?" "Why," answered Mrs. Seymour, "I've got behind this week, else I do say if they won't bring it to me before Friday, I can't do it! But you see, my dear, I've to take it pretty much as I find it. Poor folks haven't many clothes, and when they spare them, they want them done up quick. These came in yesterday, and if Jenny had come to her time, they'd have been half done by now." [Illustration: She sat holding it, the mother looking on at Meg's swift gentle ways.--p. 75.] "And they will take----?" began Meg. "Three hours at least," answered Mrs. Seymour. "All right," answered Meg, "I'll be up in about an hour. I must set Jem's dinner on." She hastened away, and Mrs. Seymour turned into the bed-room to see after her invalid lodger. "I like her," said Miss Hobson. "Jem's got a good 'un." "Yes," answered Mrs. Seymour, a little shortly. The invalid noticed the tone, and answered, "Now don't you 'spose I've known Jem long enough to be free to pass a remark on his wife?" "As you like," answered Mrs. Seymour. "But _you_ don't like, I can see that," answered Miss Hobson. Mrs. Seymour did not reply, for she and her charge were apt to get into a little wrangle unless she could be very forbearing. The thought of how hard it must be to be in bed for years generally came to her aid, added to another thought, deeper and sweeter: "I forgave _thee_ all that debt." Miss Hobson was reminded by her silence that she too had some one else to please, and she proceeded with her morning toilet with a softer feeling in her heart. Meanwhile Meg quickly washed up her breakfast cups, and spread the things ready for making a meat pie. There were the remains of the chickens, and a little fresh meat which she and Jem had gone out last night to buy. It was the middle of June, and very warm, and Meg had fried it that it should keep the night. So she made her pie and set it ready to bake at the right time; she peeled her potatoes, and left them in a basin of clear water; she made up her fire so that it should burn as little coal as possible till she needed it for cooking, and then, after a glance to see if all were right, she went to the door. Here she nearly stumbled over the boy with her flour and yeast. She took it from his hand, and putting it in her cupboard, once more set out for her mother-in-law's room. "You've come within the hour!" remarked Mrs. Seymour contentedly. "Now, my dear, while I starch these few things, will you iron those pinafores? They belong to the family on the ground floor, where there's such a lot of 'em." "Are there?"