"If you please 'm, I'm Margaret Perkins—I'm Ellen's friend. P'raps you've heerd her remark on me. I lives with my missuses at Ivy Cottage. And, please 'm, have you the 'eadache to-day? And have you heard 'm that puttin' yer hankychief in boilin' hot water and soppin' yer 'ead with it is first-rate for the 'eadache? My aunt used for to do it, when her were took bad with them. It's a thing I ain't troubled with myself is the 'eadache, but 'tis very tryin' to bear' m, and I be mortal sorry for yer!"
It was impossible to be angry with Peggy, as she stood there wagging her head to and fro with great solemnity.
Mrs. Dale found herself smiling at the odd little figure before her, and wondering at her eager interest in her welfare.
"I did not know myself and my headaches were topics of conversation with any one," she said. "But I am much obliged to you for your recommendation. I have tried hot water in times past. I do not always suffer from headache. If that were all the matter with me I should be a happy woman."
She murmured these last few words, but Peggy's quick ears caught them.
"Please 'm, I'm sorry. I be very happy myself, and would do anythink I could for yer."
Again the lady looked at her with a sad smile.
"As you go through life, little girl, you will find there are many things worse than a headache. May you never have the heartache that often causes them."
She took up her book again, and there was something in her manner that even awed Peggy.
She walked on to the farm door and delivered her message to Ellen.