ord careth for me.' Keep that
in thine heart, little Christie; it shall be like a soft pillow for thy
weary head."

Alice rose to go home, and tied on her blue hood.

"O Aunt Alice, must you go? Couldn't you tarry till Father comes?"

"I think not, my dear heart. Tell thy father I had need to haste away,
but I will come again and see both him and thee to-morrow."

To-morrow!

"Give him my loving commendations. Good-night, my child." And Alice
hurried away.

CHAPTER FOUR.

TABBY SHOWS HER CLAWS.

Friswith Hall was returning from Cranbrook in a state of great
satisfaction. She had made an excellent bargain; and she was the sort
of girl to whose mind a bargain had the flavour of a victory. In the
first place, she had squeezed both coif and ribbon out of her money; and
in the second, she had--as she fondly believed--purchased an article
worth one-and-tenpence for eighteenpence.

As she came up to the last stile she had to pass, Friswith saw two girls
sitting on it--the elder a slender, delicate-looking girl of some
fourteen years, the younger a sturdy, little, rosy-faced damsel of
seven. They looked up on hearing steps, and the elder quitted her seat
to leave Friswith room to pass.

"Good-morrow, Pen! So you've got Patience there?"

"I haven't much, I'm afraid," said Pen, laughing. "I came out here
because the lads made such a noise I could scarce hear myself speak; and
I wanted to teach Patience her hymn. Charity knows hers; but Patience
learns slower."

"Are they with you, then--both?"

"For a few days. Mistress Bradbridge is gone to visit her brother at
Chelmsford, so she left her little maids with Mother."

"What a company must you be! How can you ever squeeze into the house?"

"Oh, folks can squeeze into small corners when they choose," said Penuel
Pardue, with a smile. "A very little corner will hold both Charity and
Patience."

"Then you haven't much of either," answered Friswith satirically. "Look
you here, Pen!"

And unrolling her ribbon, she displayed its crimson beauties.

"What's that for?"

"For my hat! You can tell Beatrice, if you like, she won't be the
best-dressed maid at church next Sunday."

"I should never suppose she would," was the quiet reply.

"Oh, I saw her blue ribbons! But I'll be as grand as she, you'll see
now. Mother sent me to buy her a coif, and I got this for the money
too. Don't you wish you were me?"

"No, Friswith, I don't think I do,"