"Well," said Meg, "I want you to stay with Dickie while Cherry and I go to buy something, for he's too heavy for either of us to carry, and he has not got courage to walk yet. The noise in the street frightens him now he can't see it all."
"Poor little dear," said Mrs. Blunt, kissing him.
"We shan't be gone long," explained Meg; "and you can't think how glad I am mother advised me to save what I earned with her. Here's quite a little store—enough to buy some things for my two children, and to pay for making them."
"I should like to 'elp you for nothing," said Mrs. Blunt, understanding what Meg meant by those last words; for she had sent Jem down to explain to her, that she wanted to find some one to make Cherry's dress, and that she would ten times rather she should do it than put it out.
"But that would not be right," answered Meg; "and, like me, now you've begun to have a little saving-bag, the money can go into that."
Mrs. Blunt laughed.
"I always feel rich when I look into that bag, even if there's ever so little in it."
Meanwhile Meg was putting on her bonnet, and now stooped to kiss Dickie, who was sitting in his own little chair.
"Is this the chair as I've heard on?" asked Mrs. Blunt. "What a rare nice one! Why, it takes in half, I do declare, and makes into a little table too, like they do in the shops."
Dickie looked very pleased, and Mrs. Blunt's own babies toddled round to look and admire. They regarded the little blind boy with awe, having been drilled by their mother as to how they were to behave to him. But his gentle little face won them at once, and when they found that he looked very much like themselves, and wore frocks and pinafores, they ceased to be afraid, and began to prattle about the little bits of toys they had brought up with them.