"He will get on by-and-by," said Mrs. Blunt. "It's all new to him, poor little chap."
Cherry sat by, watching the children, and working at the seams of her skirt; and if ever her heart felt thankful it was this morning, as she saw Dickie, sheltered from all danger, playing so peacefully there. Her own new dress was only a part of her happiness, and when she thought of all the love which had been showered upon her, she felt as if she could sing for joy.
"Mother-Meg," she said softly, when she was next standing by her to have something fitted, "I don't know how to tell you how grateful I am to you and father-Jem."
Meg smiled kindly. "Tell Jesus," she answered, stroking her wavy hair, "for when we tell Him, it does not make us less glad, but more."
So Cherry went back to her work, and Meg and Mrs. Blunt were left to theirs.
"Do you think as we shall get this done to-night?" asked Mrs. Blunt.
"I hope we shall—I think we may. You see, to-morrow is Sunday, and I did want for us all to go to the Mission Room together. I don't know that Cherry could go in that old thing, though I am not sure, now I say so, that shabby clothes ought to keep us away."
"No," answered Mrs. Blunt; "but one don't like to be looked down on."
"I suppose we ought to think about pleasing God more than about pleasing our neighbours."
"That's very true, I'm sure."