"Ah, my precious!" she added, as a trim, neat little figure came hurrying in snatched off her hat and hung it behind the door. She was only in a dark brown stuff dress, but it was the very pattern of neatness, as it hung in the most graceful of folds; while over all shone as sweet a face as could be seen from east to west, with the bright innocence looking out of dark grey eyes. "Back again, mother," accompanied by a hasty kiss, was the reply to Mrs Shingle's salute. Then, brushing the crisp fair hair back from her white temples, the girl popped herself into a chair, opened a packet, drew close to the sewing machine, and in response to the pressure of a couple of little feet, that would have made anything but cold crystallised iron thrill, the wheel revolved, and with a clinking rattle the needle darted up and down. "Have I been long?" "No, my dear--quick as quick!" said Mrs Shingle, watching her child curiously. "I wanted to get back and finish this, so as to take it in," said the girl, making the machine rattle like distant firing. "Did you meet Mr Fred?" "Fred? No, mother," was the reply, as the girl started, coloured, and the consequence was a tangle of the threads and a halt. "Has he been here?" she continued, as with busy fingers she tried to set the work free once more. "Yes, just now, and set out to meet you. I wonder how you could have missed him." There was a busy pause for a few minutes, during which some work was hastily finished; and while Mrs Shingle kept watching her child from time to time uneasily, the latter rose from the machine, and began to double up the jacket upon which she had been at work, and to place it with a couple more lying close by on a black cloth. "I hope you don't encourage him, Jessie," said Mrs Shingle at last. "Mother!" exclaimed the girl, and her face became like crimson--"how can you?" "Well, there, there, I'll say no more," exclaimed Mrs Shingle--"only it worries me. Now, make haste, there's a dear, or you'll be late. Don't stop about, Jessie; and, whatever you do, don't come back without the money. Your uncle'd sure to come or send to-day, and it's so unpleasant not being ready." "I'll be as quick as I can, mother," said Jessie briskly. "And you won't stop, dear?" "I don't know what you mean, mother," said the girl, with a tell-tale blush on her cheek. "How innocent we are, to be sure!" exclaimed Mrs Shingle, tartly. Then, smiling, she continued, "There, I'm not cross, but I don't quite like it. Of course, Tom don't know when you go to the warehouse, and won't be waiting. There, I suppose young folks will be young folks." "I can't help it, mother, if Mr Fraser meets me by accident," said Jessie, blushing very rosily, and pouting her lips. "But he mustn't meet you by accident; and it oughtn't to be. Uncle Max would be furious if he knew of it, and those two boys will be playing at Cain and Abel about you, and you mustn't think anything about either of them."