"Sometimes I forget, and it is then that things go wrong."
That evening Phebe found Bessie busily engaged in unpicking the skirt of the unfortunate dress.
"I'll buy stuff to match it," exclaimed Bessie, "if I have to walk all the way to Paris!"
"Well, my dear, you cannot do that, because of the English Channel, but I want you to thank God you spilt that tea."
"Thank God I spilt that tea! What do you mean?"
And then Phebe told her story.
"Ah, it was not the tea, it was the blessed peace in your dear face that did it! It's just like your dear loving ways to want to give me a share in it! I tell you, mother is quite correct, I am the most exasperating girl that ever was! But"—and she looked up with a tender little smile—"I've caught a little bit of your secret to-day. As you stood up there with the tea all trickling down your dress, I fancied I saw Jesus just behind you! It was that which kept me from answering mother back."
"That was just splendid, Bessie, I am proud of you!"
"What, in spite of this!" holding up the stained breadth.
"Yes, in spite of that and a dozen like it! What is that worth compared with my Bessie? And Nanna would say just the same."