"Well, I suppose those who are really interested can walk four miles. I certainly can. Susy, you had better not miss it to-morrow night, for Aunt Katie O'Flynn is to be present, and there's no saying what she will do. She will help us if any one can. She is ever so kind, and so interested. It will be the greatest meeting the society has ever had; I wouldn't miss it myself for the world." "Oh, hurrah!" said Susy. "You certainly are a splendid girl, Kathleen. And won't Aunt Church be pleased?" "Tell her that if she wants to get one of the little almshouses she had better oblige us as far as she can," said. Kathleen. "Now I must rush back to dinner. I am going to town afterwards." Without waiting for Susy's reply, Kathleen turned on her heel and returned home. Susy watched her for a minute, then slowly and gravely went in the direction of her mother's shop. Mrs. Hopkins was getting in fresh stock that morning, and the little shop looked brighter and fresher than it had done for some time. It was a beautiful day in the beginning of winter, with that feeling of summer in the air which comes to cheer us now and then in November. Susy marched through the shop, still swinging her satchel. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Susy," said her mother. "And I wish, too, that you wouldn't always be late home. Be quick now; there's pease-pudding and pork for dinner. Tom is in a hurry to be off to his football." "Oh, bother!" said Susy. Mrs. Hopkins frowned. Susy, in her mother's opinion, was not quite so nice and comforting as she once had been. But it was not Mrs. Hopkins's way to reproach her children; she bore her burden with regard to them as silently and patiently as she could. Susy ran up to her room, tossed off her hat, washed her hands, and came down. Soon the three were seated at their frugal dinner. "You seem to have got in a lot of fresh goods, mother," said Tom. "I have," said Mrs. Hopkins, with a groan; "but I haven't paid for one of them. Parkins says he will trust me for quite a month; but however I am to pay your Aunt Church, and keep enough money for the new goods, beats me. Sometimes I think that my burden is greater than I can bear. I have often had a feeling that I ought to give up the shop and take service somewhere. I used to be noted as the best of good housekeepers when I was young." "Oh, no, mother, you mustn't do that," said Susy. "What would Tom and I do?" "If it wasn't for you and Tom I'd give notice to-morrow," said the widow. "But there! we must hope for the best, I suppose. God never forsakes those who trust Him." "Mother," said Susy suddenly, "I hope you will be able to spare me this afternoon. I want to go and see Aunt Church." "Why should you do that, child? There's no way for you to go except on your legs, and it's a weary walk, and the days are getting short." "All the same, I must go," said Susy. "I suppose you couldn't shut up the shop and come with me, could you, mother?"