Tea was a favourite meal. Sometimes a little treacle or dripping was added to the bread, and though the tea was nearly as colourless as it was tasteless, still it was hot and occasionally sweet, and that was something.
To-night a large stale loaf and some treacle was the fare, and as Kittie bustled about to spread the cloth, Mrs. Blunt said again—
"Kittie, I've often grumbled at things bein' so terrible hard for us, and about bein' so short of food and all, but instead o' that I'm goin' to turn over a new leaf."
"A new leaf?" questioned the girl, pausing on her way to the cupboard. "What do yer mean, mother?"
"I don't rightly know yet—if I did I'd tell yer. But one thing I do know, Kittie. Young Mrs. Seymour, what's been so kind to me, says the Saviour don't mean us to go worritin' all our days, but likes us best to ask Him to 'elp us bear our troubles; and she says as He lightens hers and He will mine. Well, if that's true, I'd like to try it, and somehow, Kittie—I don't hardly like to so much as say it—but I feel a deal happier and better, and as if I'd got some one to love as will never fail me."
Mrs. Blunt's eyes were tearful by the time she had said all this, and Kittie's watered in sympathy, though she did not fully understand her mother.
"There's the kettle boilin'! Make the tea and call the little 'uns in. What a mercy as we've got some treacle! That's 'cause the porridge cost less nor the bread would ha' done. We saved a penny or more for dinner, and every one had enough; and that's more'n we can say every day, ain't it, Kittie?"
Kittie nodded. She was intent on filling the tea-pot. Then she went to the door and began to call; but there was no need. Jim caught up the baby, and there was a general rush to the table.
The father did not come home till six, so some bread was set aside for him first of all, and then the mother divided what there was as equally as she could, giving larger shares to the bigger children. Soon there was nothing but empty plates, and then the elder children went into different corners, or wherever they could be quietest, to learn their home-lessons. Then mother quickly cleared away, and set the table straight for the father. A meagre meal for a working man. She felt it bitterly as she spread the few slices of bread on a plate, and put a small bit of dripping in front of them. But as she looked she remembered that there was the Lord who was to carry her burdens, and not herself, and so she took courage again, though she could not at the moment see any way out of the difficulty.
"It 'ull be better when I can make 'em the bread," she thought. "Fancy saving two shillings a week!"