"But that was not all she said," went on Bessie; "she said I was getting far too much of a saint for her; she wondered I had anything to do with such a wicked woman as she was,--but she believed it was only some clever trick I was up to,--mother even said I could act a sham to you, but she was not so easily gulled." "Something had surely been worrying her." "No, I don't suppose so, that's just mother. What is the good of me trying! I feel as if I'd never go in home again, that I do!" "Do you think that would be acting a daughter's part?" "No,"--very faintly. "Then your course is very clear, dearie." "Yes," with a deep sigh. "Don't despair, Bessie, darling," said Phebe, stooping down and kissing the girl's brow. "It's a difficult piece of work you have to do, but there'll be all the more joy when it is completed." There was a long silence between them, and the subject was not referred to again that evening. But Phebe sat long after Bessie had retired for the night thinking things over. The thought uppermost in her mind was this: "I plead for visitors to go to zenanas in India, but what is my duty to Mrs. Marchant? All the years she has been my neighbour I have never even prayed for her, or tried to pass on to her any helpful message! Fancy that! And I call myself a Christian!" When Nanna came into the room to bid her good-night, she said: "I wonder what her majesty is turning over so seriously in her mind!" "Her majesty's subject," with special emphasis on the last word, "is thinking sadly of a neglected duty." "Well!" exclaimed Nanna, laughing, "if the late lamented Mrs. Caudle had an eye for a bloater, my Phebe certainly has an eye for duties!" "But, Nanna, when I tell you what it is, you will not laugh." "Yes, I shall. I belong to the Guild of Gladness, and there's something to be glad about in everything,--if you look for it. If even this duty is a very solemn one, I am glad you have at last thought of it." "I know I can never get you in a corner." And then she told Nanna her thoughts. "You are quite right," was Nanna's reply, "we have both been to blame; we have thought so much of winning Bessie, we have lost sight of the mother." "I shall make 'a dash for it,' as Bessie says, to-morrow. And trust for guidance, at the moment as to the right thing to say." So the very next afternoon she went in to see her neighbour, and found her, of course, as busy--not as a bee, but, rather, as a cloud of dust. "I wish I had your easy life, Mrs. Waring! I am never done," she exclaimed, sinking down into a chair with a load of freshly mangled towels in her arms. "And as for troubles,--it seems as if my life was made up of them." "But I think you will acknowledge that I have had a few troubles lately, Mrs. Marchant, don't you think so?"