ied, when
she caught sight of the infirm old woman leaning on Phoebe's arm, and
made the exclamation already quoted.

"Lord bless us all! if it ain't grandmamma, and Phoebe's daughter along
o' her, I'll lay you sixpence," said Mrs. Tom in the extremity of her
surprise, and at the highest pitch of her voice. The lady customer was
still in the shop, and when she heard this she turned round and gave the
new-comers a stare. (It was not very wonderful, Phoebe allowed to herself
with secret anguish). She gave old Mrs. Tozer a familiar nod. "This is
quite a long walk for you now-a-days," she said, gazing at Phoebe, though
she addressed the old woman.

"Thank ye, ma'am, I am a deal better," said Mrs. Tozer, "especially as
I've got my granddaughter to take care of me."

"Oh! is this young--person your granddaughter," said the customer with
another stare, and then she nodded again and went away wondering.
"Well," Phoebe said to herself, "one little sting more or less what did
it matter?" and she went on through the shop supporting her grandmother,
keenly sensible of the looks that encountered her on every side. Mrs.
Tom stood leaning against the counter, waiting for them without making
any advance. She was smart and good-looking, with a malicious gleam in a
pair of bright black beady eyes.

"How are you, granny?" she said, "I declare you're looking quite young
again, and as spry as twenty. Come in and rest; and this young lady as
is with you, I don't think as I need ask her name, the likeness speaks
for itself. It's Phoebe Beecham, ain't it? Bless us all! I'd have known
her anywhere, I would; the very moral of her mother, and of you too,
granny. As you stand there now, you're as like as two peas."

Unconsciously Phoebe cast a look upon her grandmother. She did not think
she was vain. To be unconscious that she had some personal advantages
would, of course, be impossible; but a thrill crept through her when she
looked at the old woman by her side, wrinkled and red, in her
copper-coloured gown. As like as two peas! was that possible? Phoebe's
heart sank for the moment to her shoes, and a pitiful look of restrained
pain came to her face. This was assailing her in her tenderest point.

"Am I so like you, grandmamma?" she said, faltering; but added quickly,
"then I cannot be like mamma. How do you do? My mother wished me to come
at once, to bring her kind regards. Is my uncle at home?"

"No, Miss, your uncle ain't at home," sai