"I don't go with Pollie now," said Kittie. "I should ha' thought as you'd seen that I didn't, mother, since--that Sunday." "I'm glad on it," said Mrs. Blunt heartily. "That's good news, Kittie. You'll grow up to be a comfort to me yet." Kittie wrung out a towel very hard, but she half shook her head. "Yes, you will, Kit. It may be a deal easier to you now to go out on the step, and see folks passin', and have a grumble with Pollie; but by-and-by, if you're steady, you'll find it a deal easier to sit down with mother to a bit o' work, and have a chat or a bit o' readin'." "'Tain't that I care so much for _Pollie_," answered the girl rather dolefully; "but you don't know how dull it seems in 'ere, instead of outside, mother; leastways when you're used to goin' out." Mrs. Blunt did not answer, for Kittie's words gave her a pang. If her child only would believe that she knew best! But Mrs. Blunt had some one to consult now in all her difficulties. She raised her heart to Him with an earnest prayer, that Kittie might be kept from the first steps of danger. So it was with a quieted trust that she bent over her tub once more; she knew but little, but that little was so real, that it made her life a perfectly different thing. Was she puzzled how to guide her boys?--she asked Jesus about it. Was she worried with Kittie?--she asked Jesus to make it right. Was she cast down at their small means and many wants?--she told Jesus about it. Was she afraid that the food would run short?--she told Jesus about it. And she found, as thousands have found before, that He could supply _all_ her need. Did she watch and see that the boys were quieter than she expected, after that telling Jesus? Did she notice that Kittie cheered up and was good? that some one sent a frock for the baby unexpectedly? that her husband brought home an extra shilling for an extra bit of work he had done? Ah! they that ask, expecting an answer, from the faithful God, shall receive abundantly. Her thoughts were broken in upon by Kittie's drawing a pinafore out of the water, and saying-- "My! ain't this dreadfully old, mother? It ain't worth gettin'-up, that it ain't." Mrs. Blunt shook her head. "It 'ull have to serve another turn, Kit." "I was a-thinkin'--" said Kit, hesitating. "Well, Kittie, what was you a-thinkin'?" answered her mother, kindly. "Why, there's Cherry Seymour, she earns two shillings a week." "So she does, but she ain't you, and she's left school." "But she don't earn that in school-time, mother." "Of course she don't." "But I've been thinkin', that if she was to mention me to them servants at the doctor's, who is so kind to her, they might know of some little place or 'nother before breakfast for _me_." "So they might, Kit; you're a good girl to ha' thought of it."