the loud glad cry: "Oh, Jennie, Jennie,
where did you come from? I am so glad!"

There was an answering cry of surprise and joy, and then the tray, with
everything upon it, went crashing to the floor, while Jennie exclaimed:

"An', be jabers, the plather an' the tay is all one smash together, in
me fright at seem' you here before me, when it's meself was goin' to ask
her to take you. May the saints be praised, if it's not the happiest day
since I left Ireland," and bending over Bessie the impulsive Irish girl
kissed her again and again, talking, and laughing, and crying, until
Bessie said to her:

"There, Jennie, please; I am very tired, and your sudden coming has
taken my strength away."

She did look very white and faint, and Jennie saw it, and tried to be
calm, though she kept whispering to herself as she gathered up the
_debris_ on the floor, and with a most rueful expression took it down
stairs, saying to her mistress:

"An' faith it's a bad beginnin' I've made, mum, but sure an' I'll pay
you every farthing with me first wages, and now, if you plase, I'll do
up my fut, for it's blistered, that it is, with the bilin' tay."

The foot was cared for, and another tray of toast and tea prepared.
This, Miss Betsey took herself to Bessie, explaining that Jennie was the
cousin who had come to take her former housemaid's place.

"But I had no idea," she said, "that she was such a behemoth. I am
afraid she will not answer my purpose at all."

But Bessie pleaded for the girl, whose kindness of heart she knew, and
who, she felt sure, could be molded and softened by careful and
judicious training, and that afternoon, when Jennie came up to her she
told her that her aunt did not like a noise, and that she must be very
quiet and gentle if she wished to please.

Jennie listened to her, open-eyed, and when she was through responded:

"Is it quiet she wants? I told her I would whasper, an' faith I wull;
for I'm bound to stay with you, and get me tin shillings a week."

The case seemed hopeless, and Jennie might have lost her place but for
the serious illness which came upon Bessie, taking away all her
vitality, and making her weak and helpless as a child. It was then that
Jennie showed her real value, and by her watchful tenderness and
untiring devotion, more than made amends for all her awkwardness.

Day after day, and night after night, she staid in the sick room,
ministering to Bessie as no one else could have done,