ng
outwardly quiet according to her own fitful will. Mrs Bradshaw, who,
as I have said, had been aware for some time that something was wrong
with her daughter, and was very anxious to set it to rights if she
only knew how, had rather planned this errand with a view to dispel
Jemima's melancholy.

"And, Mimie, dear," said her mother, "when you are there, look out
for a new bonnet for yourself; she has got some very pretty ones, and
your old one is so shabby."

"It does for me, mother," said Jemima, heavily. "I don't want a new
bonnet."

"But I want you to have one, my lassie. I want my girl to look well
and nice."

There was something of homely tenderness in Mrs Bradshaw's tone that
touched Jemima's heart. She went to her mother, and kissed her with
more of affection than she had shown to any one for weeks before; and
the kiss was returned with warm fondness.

"I think you love me, mother," said Jemima.

"We all love you, dear, if you would but think so. And if you want
anything, or wish for anything, only tell me, and with a little
patience I can get your father to give it you, I know. Only be happy,
there's a good girl."

"Be happy! as if one could by an effort of will!" thought Jemima, as
she went along the street, too absorbed in herself to notice the bows
of acquaintances and friends, but instinctively guiding herself right
among the throng and press of carts, and gigs, and market people in
High Street.

But her mother's tones and looks, with their comforting power,
remained longer in her recollection than the inconsistency of any
words spoken. When she had completed her errand about the frocks, she
asked to look at some bonnets, in order to show her recognition of
her mother's kind thought.

Mrs Pearson was a smart, clever-looking woman of five or six and
thirty. She had all the variety of small-talk at her finger-ends
that was formerly needed by barbers to amuse the people who came to
be shaved. She had admired the town till Jemima was weary of its
praises, sick and oppressed by its sameness, as she had been these
many weeks.

"Here are some bonnets, ma'am, that will be just the thing for
you--elegant and tasty, yet quite of the simple style, suitable to
young ladies. Oblige me by trying on this white silk!"

Jemima looked at herself in the glass; she was obliged to own it was
very becoming, and perhaps not the less so for the flush of modest
shame which came into her cheeks as she heard Mrs Pear