But the poor woman only had one sister, and she did not know where she was living, for Rutter had forbidden her visits the last year or two; for she was poor, and he did not feel disposed to keep her, he said. Whether he had brothers and sisters or not, his wife did not know, certainly there was no one she could appeal to in her time of trouble, and Mrs. Chaplin found herself to be the only support and friend the widow could look to just now. Neither mother nor daughter were strong or capable women, and so the visitor found plenty to do, for the house had a forlorn, neglected look about it that troubled Mrs. Chaplin until she could set to work to make things comfortable. Finding that Lizzie was rather worse than her mother in the matter of fretting, Mrs. Chaplin said during the afternoon: "If I stay here, Lizzie must go and tell them at home that I shall not be home to-night. Winny will get anxious, and I am not sure that there is enough for their tea." "Oh, mother, shall I take that cold meat to her?" said Lizzie, and as she spoke, the thought that no one would scold because it was given away came to her as a relief. But the next moment, she was angry with herself for thinking thus, for it seemed like rejoicing at her father's death, and the poor girl could not endure this. But she took the cold meat in a basket and some bread, as well as a message to Brown from her mother, telling him she was very sorry for Annie, and when she came home again, she would help her if she could. Winny was alone when Lizzie's knock came, and to her eager "Come in," the basket was pushed forward first, and then Lizzie's white wistful face peered round the room. "I am all alone," said Winny in answer to the look. "Is mother going to stay all the evening with you?" she asked, for she guessed the girl's errand. "She's going to stay all night with mother," said Lizzie in her cowed frightened voice. "I hope you won't mind," she added, seeing Winny looked disappointed. "No, we won't mind for once; I thought you might be glad to see her, as you had not been long in your new house. Do you like it?" asked Winny, trying to make conversation. "Not much; you see we don't know the people about, and father—" but there the girl stopped. Her father's memory was not a blessing, but she was too loyal to say one word that would betray all it had become to her, and so she turned to the basket she had brought, and lifted out the remains of the leg of mutton it contained. "Mother sent this for your tea," she said, "for we shall never be able to eat it while it is good," and then she set a loaf upon the table and a pot of jam and some butter, for her mother had filled the basket, taking a melancholy pleasure in doing it, even while she sighed to think that there was no one to scold her now for wasting these things, as Rutter would have thought it.