"I was going to set out to call on you this morning, but, stupid-like, I never asked Jem where you lived before he went to his work. So I couldn't come."
"And Jem never told you where I lived?" asked Mrs. Seymour, astonished.
"I asked him," answered Meg, "and he smiled at me, and said he should tell me nothing about it, but take me to see."
"Why, I live in the very same house, my dear."
Meg looked too surprised to speak. When at last she could find any words, she said anxiously—
"How very unkind you must have thought me, mother, in not coming to see after you. Times I have meant to ask Jem, but then he was out; and these few days have passed so quickly, I have been so busy getting out all my little treasures."
Mrs. Seymour looked round.
"Your things have made a lot o' difference, my dear. You have smartened it up a deal."
"Oh, it did not want smartening up," said Meg; "but the young ladies at the Hall did give me such pretty things. Look at this workbox, and this tea-caddy, and that pretty vase. Those were the young ladies' gifts, and those glass dishes from the other servants."
Mrs. Seymour said they were very kind, and then sat looking somewhat abstractedly into the little fire.