l by sight. She had sat behind her in church all
the Sundays of her life, and had often admired the tidy appearance of
the dressmaker, and thought that she was an excellent advertisement of
her own wares. Lately she had noticed her thin and ill-coloured, and
Mrs. Macdonald had said one day, "I wonder if Miss Abbot is all right.
She used to be such a help at the sewing meeting, and now she doesn't
come at all, and her excuses are lame. When I go to see her she always
says she is perfectly well, but I am not at ease about her. She's the
sort of woman who would drop before she made a word of complaint...."

One morning when passing the door Jean saw Miss Abbot polishing her
brass knocker. She stopped to say good morning.

"Are you keeping well, Miss Abbot? There is so much illness about."

"I'm in my usual, thank you," said Miss Abbot stiffly.

"I always admire the flowers in your window," said Jean. "How do you
manage to keep them so fresh looking? Ours get so mangy. May I come in
for a second and look at them?"

Miss Abbot stood aside and said coldly that Jean might come in if she
liked, but her flowers were nothing extra.

It was the tidiest of kitchens she entered. Everything shone that could
be made to shine. A hearthrug made by Miss Abbot's mother lay before the
fireplace, in which a mere handful of fire was burning. An arm-chair
with cheerful red cushions stood beside the fire. It was quite
comfortable, but Jean felt a bareness. There were no pots on the
fire--nothing seemed to be cooking for dinner.

She admired the flowers and got instructions from their owner when to
water and when to refrain from watering, and then, seating herself in a
chair with an assurance she was far from feeling, she proceeded to try
to make Miss Abbot talk. That lady stood bolt upright waiting for her
visitor to go, but Jean, having got a footing, was determined to remain.

"Are you very busy just now?" she asked. "I was wondering if you could
do some sewing for me? I don't know whether you ever go out by the day?"

"No," said Miss Abbot.

"We could bring it you here if you would do it at your leisure."

"I can't take in any more work just now. I'm sorry."

"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Perhaps later on.... I'm keeping you. It's
Saturday morning, and you'll want to get on with your work."

"Yes."

There was a silence, and Jean reluctantly rose to go. Miss Abbot had
turned her back and was looking into the fire.

"Good mor