"Come, mother," she said, "Mrs. Blunt's there, and I'm going to make the tea. It's early to be sure, but you won't mind."
"I must finish these couple of shirts, my dear."
"Then I'll do that," said Meg, "while you make up your fire. I couldn't venture to do that for you, mother; I shouldn't do it right."
Meg laughed as she said that, and Mrs. Seymour laughed too.
Miss Hobson from the inner room called out cheerily: "Well, it's the only thing as she thinks you can't do to her mind anyway."
"Young folks can't have the experience of us old ones," said Mrs. Seymour. "We can't expect it."
Meg finished the shirts, and then went into the back room to say, "How d'ye do" to her mother-in-law's lodger, while Mrs. Seymour took off her ironing apron, settled her cap aright, and went downstairs.
"I shall bring you a cup of our tea presently," said Meg, "and a bit of bread and butter, so don't settle to sleep yet, Miss Hobson."
"Very well, my dear, I'm glad you told me. Are you going to have a party?"
Meg smiled. "Miss Hobson, I've got a pot of sunshine that won't hold it all, so I'm going to give a little away."