The younger woman read—
"My dear Margaret,—Our young lady, Miss Nellie, came into my nursery last night, and she says, 'Mary, have not you a sister-in-law, a widow, with one little girl?'
"Of course I said, 'Yes.' And she asked a lot of questions about you and Maggie; and then she says, 'Do you think she would be willing to take a nurse's place, where there might be nine or ten little children?'
"I said you would not leave Maggie; and she says quickly, 'Oh, no! I never meant her to; she would bring Maggie with her, and Maggie would be brought up with the other children.'
"I suppose it is some sort of school; but Miss Nellie did not explain. She said I might write and ask you; and if you were pleased at it, her friend (that's Miss Arbuthnot, I fancy) would pay your fare to come and see her.
"What do you think of it, dear sister-in-law? Please write and tell me at once.
"Give my love to dear mother. We are going home in two or three days now; but we are very happy, and all are well, as I hope this finds you.
"Your affectionate sister,
"MARY FENTON."
The grandmother sat during the reading of the letter with wide staring eyes.
"Praise the Lord!" she said. "Praise the Lord!"
Margaret's tears were falling fast and bright; and the letter was in danger of being obliterated.
"If it is all it looks, mother," she said, "it is like the barrel of meal and the cruse of oil."
"It is, my child. 'Praise the Lord; for His mercy endureth for ever.'"
