"That's a great thing, ain't it? You can't trust some boys out of your sight, hardly. Mrs. Mugford will stand his friend, you'll see, if she's taken to him—she's like that. She and I were girls together, so I know her ways. She's got on in the world. Married a steady, hardworking man, and when he died, he left her well provided for, and without any one to share with!" As though to be alone in the world had its advantages. But Mrs. Lethbridge did not see it in that light. "I've heard her say she wished she had children," she said; "and she's real good to mine." At that moment the conversation was interrupted by Jim, who rushed up in great excitement to his mother, and whispered eagerly in her ear— "Mother, I've won sixpence for coming in second in the last race! The vicar gave it to me! Look here!" The boy's face was shining with pleasure, and his smile was reflected on the mother's countenance. "Do you know what I am going to do with it, mother?" Then, as she shook her head, "I'm going to save it towards buying that picture of the Good Shepherd for our Molly. Will you please keep it for me?" Mrs. Lethbridge willingly consented, and took charge of the bright, new sixpence, tying it up carefully in a corner of her pocket handkerchief. She was deeply touched at the boy's unselfishness and love for his sister, and felt she might be justly proud of her elder son. Meanwhile, Molly was enjoying the day most thoroughly. She kept close to Miss Morris at first, but after a little while, she ventured to play with some other children about her own age, and soon lost all her shyness and reserve. But now the summer evening was drawing to a close; the sun was setting in a rosy glow of colour, and the children's happy day was nearly over. James Lethbridge returned home before his family, and after getting his own tea, stood outside the cottage door, looking disconsolately up and down the deserted street. The silence indoors was oppressive, and he felt quite glad when he saw Mrs. Mugford's portly figure step outside her shop, and he immediately crossed the road to speak to her. "Good evening, ma'am. So you haven't gone to the school treat, along with every one else." "No," she replied, with a smiling nod of greeting. "I couldn't leave, you know. I should have shut up my shop if it hadn't been for the post-office. You see I'm a public servant, and not my own mistress. But I've not had a single person inside my doors since two o'clock to-day, and I can tell you it's been the longest afternoon I've spent since—the school treat last year." "I've had to get my own tea," James Lethbridge remarked, "for the missus has gone with the youngsters. She left everything ready for me, and the door-key under a stone where I should know where to find it. It's quite an event for my wife to go pleasuring!"