Miss Needwood had fetched the handkerchief, and Jessie took leave and walked home, thinking over what shops might possibly employ the poor girl. What a pity she had not those handkerchiefs to do, and why should she not do some of them? Oh, Grace would never consent. Besides, Jessie had spent her 4_l._ 16_s._ in fancy already on the Offertory, savings bank, a present for mother, a pair of spectacles for old Dame Wall, a pretty new dress and hat for herself. Oh no, she must work on; it was such pretty work, and Grace would scorn her so if she gave up any part of it. Jessie came home to find Mrs. Hollis in all the hard work and worry of a Saturday evening, alone in the shop, with people waiting and getting cross. She had to hasten behind the counter and help as fast as she could. It was well that the Lees had given her a cup of tea when she brought in the money, for there was no quiet for more than an hour, and then the fire was found to have gone out while Grace was putting in gathers. Moreover, Jessie saw, with dismay, that the beefsteak-pie, which was to serve for the morrow, was not even made. "Oh, I'll do that to-morrow morning," said Grace. And when Jessie proceeded to tack in her clean collar and cuffs, Grace called out, raising her hot face from her work, that they might be pinned in on Sunday morning; it was only waste of time to do so now. "I don't think that is using Sunday quite well," said Jessie. "Well, I never heard there was any harm in sticking in a pin of a Sunday! Come, sit down, do, and don't keep fiddling about. You'll be behind with those handkerchiefs. Here, mother, you can finish this seam before dark." "The place is in such a caddle," said poor Mrs. Hollis, looking ruefully round at her kitchen, which certainly did not wear at all its usual Saturday evening's aspect. "That Jenny Simkins, she do so stabble in and out, she only wants some one to clean after her." "Oh, well, I'll see to that," said Grace, "when it gets too dark for work. One must put up with a little for such a chance as this." Jessie felt that her poor mother was putting up with more than a little, as she saw her sit down with a sigh and try to thread her needle by the window. Jessie went across and did it for her, and put back the muslin blind so as to let in more light; then sat down to finish the "na" of her sixth Nina, rather wearily, and with an uncomfortable thought that Miss Needwood's satin-stitch looked better than her own. Little "n" was done before the twilight tidying, which did not amount to much, for Grace soon lighted the lamp; but Jessie, in putting up the shop shutters, made the arm, which had once been crushed, tremble so much that she could not work without pricking her finger, and Mrs. Hollis really could not see. So Grace let them both go to bed, and Jessie half waked to hear her bustling about, and coming up herself just after the clock struck twelve. She would not have set a stitch on any account after that!