But Mrs. Chaplin looked dubious, and glanced at her husband for a moment. Brown was not the sort of person she cared to associate with, unless she herself was the bestower of the favour. But her pride melted before the look in her husband's face, and she eagerly took up the shilling. "Yes, you shall have tea with us, and I'm much obliged for the help; I'll go myself and get something for you," she added. It was one of the hardships of this way of living that no provision in the way of a cheap nourishing meal could be prepared beforehand, or at least very rarely, and so now that Mrs. Chaplin had got a shilling to spend, her first thought was to go to the butcher and get a pound of steak. This was what most housewives did when they could indulge in the luxury of a piece of meat. But Mrs. Chaplin reflected that a pound of steak would swallow up nearly all her money, and that if she got some bread and dripping for the tea, she might get a more nourishing and tasty meal for supper. So instead of the steak to fry, she bought some pieces of meat to stew, and some oatmeal to boil with it. This with a pennyworth of vegetables would make a savoury dish that all might enjoy. It must be confessed that Chaplin looked a little disappointed when he found that they were not going to have the expected treat. But tea and dripping toast reconciled him to the change, and Brown was invited to have hot supper with them as well as tea for his shilling. While Letty made the toast, her mother put the stew on, for it would require two or three hours' cooking, and then they sat down to tea. There was a meeting for the men to attend at the mission-hall, and the supper was to be ready by the time they came home. The night had turned out cold and wet, so that Winny enjoyed the unwonted luxury of a bit of fire, for they rarely lighted one now except to boil the kettle. Soon after nine, the men came in to their supper, both eager and excited over the news they had heard since they had left the mission room. A ship would reach the docks about one o'clock in the morning, and so the few who were in the secret of a telegram being sent might hope for a few hours' work at least. "Things couldn't have happened better, Mrs. Chaplin," said Brown rubbing his hands as he smelt the savoury stew that was just ready to turn out. It was a hotch-potch of meat, vegetables and oatmeal, warm and nourishing, and easy of digestion, and the two men looked as eager and pleased over the unusual luxury of a hot supper and a chance of work to follow as though a fortune had been left to them. "The best day's work I ever did was to come and live near you, Chaplin," said his companion as Mrs. Chaplin helped them to a plate of stew.