"

"Come now, Bessy, I can have none of that nonsense. Thy mother knows
what's best for thee; and I'm not going to hear thee complain of what
she has thought right. But may be, I can help you to a way of gaining
eighteenpence. Mrs. Scott at the worsted shop told me that she should
want some one to clean on Saturday; now you're a good strong girl, and
can do a woman's work if you've a mind. Shall I say you will go? and
then I don't mind if I lend you my eighteenpence. You'll pay me before I
want my rent on Monday."

"Oh! thank you, dear Mrs. Foster," said Bessy. "I can scour as well as
any woman, mother often says so; and I'll do my best on Saturday; they
shan't blame you for having spoken up for me."

"No, Bessy, they won't, I'm sure, if you do your best. You're a good
sharp girl for your years."

Bessy lingered for some time, hoping that Mrs. Foster would remember her
offer of lending her the money; but finding that she had quite forgotten
it, she ventured to remind the kind old woman. That it was nothing but
forgetfulness, was evident from the haste with which Mrs. Foster bustled
up to her tea-pot and took from it the money required.

"You're as welcome to it as can be, Bessy, as long as I'm sure of its
being repaid by Monday. But you're in a mighty hurry about this coverlet,"
continued she, as she saw Bessy put on her bonnet and prepare to go out.
"Stay, you must take patterns, and go to the right shop in St. Mary's
Gate. Why, your mother won't be back this three weeks, child."

"No. But I can't abide waiting, and I want to set to it before it is
dark; and you'll teach me the stitch, won't you, when I come back with
the wools? I won't be half an hour away."

But Mary and Bill had to "abide waiting" that afternoon; for though the
neighbour at whose house the key was left could let them into the house,
there was no supper ready for them on their return from school; even
Jenny was away spending the afternoon with a playfellow; the fire was
nearly out, the milk had been left at a neighbour's; altogether home was
very comfortless to the poor tired children, and Bill grumbled terribly;
Mary's head ached, and the very tones of her brother's voice, as he
complained, gave her pain; and for a minute she felt inclined to sit
down and cry. But then she thought of many little sayings which she had
heard from her teacher--such as "Never complain of what you can cure,"
"Bear and forbear," and several other short sentences of