Just a wee bit of a smile crept into Phebe's face as she read it, and the thought came, "What would she do if she had troubles like mine to face?" Bessie's blueness seemed to have quite vanished by tea-time. During the meal she kept up a lively chatter, and Phebe came to the conclusion that Bessie was not aware that anything unusual had happened. I don't know if Bessie had ever read that the way to cheer people who are down is not by bidding them count the blessings still remaining, for they are sure to sink still lower if you do that, but by counting up to them the blessings they have conferred on others. It has certainly a wonderful effect; and that was just what Bessie did. After she had helped Janie to clear the table she sat down for a minute or two on the rug at Phebe's feet, and then said, "When I began to write you that cheeky little note this morning I wanted to say something--I've wanted to say something for weeks, but don't know how." "Just tell me straight out," said Phebe gently, stroking her tangled hair, thinking it was some confession she wanted to make or to ask advice how to get out of a scrape. "It's only that I wanted to tell you how much I love you and what a help you have been to me. Do you remember telling me that story Jesus told about the woman who would have her way, and how it taught us how to pray? Well, last night, for the first time in my life, I really prayed. I felt quite sure Jesus was listening. Things have been so different since you have been here. I never had anybody to talk to as I can to you; you understand me, and don't scold me." "But I think I often scold you." "Bless you, that's not scolding." Phebe bent down and kissed her, saying in a low voice, "God bless you, Bessie, darling. I cannot tell you how your words have comforted me, just as though an angel had helped you to say them. Perhaps some day you will understand what I mean." Bessie thought she understood even now, but did not say so. "And I may love you just as much as ever I like, may I not?" "Of course you may, there is room in my life for a lot of love," and Phebe had suddenly to rise and go into the shop, but Bessie knew it was only that she might not see her tears. Next morning came, still no message. The day passed to Phebe as the previous one had done--she had been ever on the watch, a feeling of dumb despair taking possession of her. In the evening she had a visitor; no other than Stephen Collins, who asked if he might see her alone. After the first greetings were over there was an awkward silence, and then Stephen said, "Mrs. Waring, you are in trouble. I cannot tell you exactly now how I know, but will you not as an old friend confide in me?" No answer. Poor Phebe could not think what to say; she could only look up into his kind face and as suddenly let her glance fall again to hide her tears. But the look gave Stephen courage to go on. "Ralph has left you, has he not? Did he leave no message behind?"