"Yes; you might help mother with her washing sometimes; or you could learn to do nice needle-work. I mean to write to Mrs. MacDonald and ask her if she wants any done."
"I did learn to work when I was at school," said Cherry.
"You see, Cherry," pursued Meg, "it is not that we would not keep you altogether if you needed it, or it were right; but it will be much better and happier for you to have something to do; and then if you could earn enough to get some neat clothes and put a little by, how nice that would be."
Dickie grew tired of this talk, and asked if his secret was going to be told.
Meg took him on her lap, and as he nestled his soft curls against her, she explained to him that they must wait till father-Jem came home.
Just as she was saying this the doctor's quick rap was heard at their door, and he entered at once.
"I am late, Mrs. Seymour," he said; "but I waited till the pressure of my work was over, because I want to have a good look at this little fellow's eyes. Does he never try to use them?"
"No," answered Meg; "he seems to dread the light so much."
"I'm afraid—" said the doctor, glancing up at her and stopping short.
Meg looked yearningly into the little face.