arshly; "don't you
dare to touch her again. You've done enough harm for one day, you and
that temper of yours!" Emma Hender shrank back without a word, then,
after a moment's struggle for self-control, dropped into a chair and
burying her face in her apron burst into violent weeping. She was so
tired, so faint, and so ashamed of herself, and no one cared, she thought
bitterly; no one cared for her, or believed her, or pitied her.

She worked for them all, and looked after their home from morning till
night, but it was all nothing, she told herself bitterly, and felt herself
a very ill-used person. But what she did not tell herself, or perhaps did
not realise, was that it is not so much what we do for people but the
spirit in which it is done, that makes it a real kindness and wins their
affection.

There was one tender little heart there, though, that bore her no
ill-will, that, indeed, forgot everything but that she was in trouble and
needed comforting.

"Auntie Emma, don't cry! Bella'll be better soon. Don't cry, Auntie
Emma, or Margery'll cry too!" and two soft little hands tried to pull the
work-worn ones away, and a gentle baby voice tried to bring comfort and
cheer to the unhappy woman.

Aunt Emma, in a burst of real feeling, let the little hands uncover and
gently pat her face, then, clasping the baby form to her, kissed her
passionately again and again.

"You do care for your auntie, don't you, dear?" she sobbed, but softly and
sorrowfully now. "You always will care for your poor auntie, won't you,
dear?"

"Oh yes," promised Margery readily, anxious only to comfort and cheer,
"when auntie isn't cross," she added innocently.

Miss Hender's loving clasp loosened a little. "Everybody is cross
sometimes," she muttered excusingly. But many and many a time after that
the memory of Margery's words came back to her, and stayed the first angry
word or ill-natured act, and so averted a storm and hours of reproach.

"Bella is better! Look, her eyes are open!" and Margery clambered
joyfully down from her aunt's lap and ran over to her sister's side.

For a moment Bella looked about her in a dazed fashion, then, memory
returning, she raised herself and tried to stand.

"I am all right, thank you," she said, but she was glad enough to drop on
to the old sofa and rest. Miss Hender rose too.

"I--think she'll be better for a cup of tea," she said; "we all shall."
It cost her an effort to speak, for she f