"I would have been kind to Peggy, if her parents would have let me," she thought. "There is nothing I would have denied her. I should like to do something to please her—to add to her happiness this Christmas. How I should like to see her again! She was such a bright, contented little girl! When I was ill, she was continually in my thoughts, and one night, I fancied I heard her singing that hymn about light at evening time—she has a very sweet voice. I wonder if Margaret would let the child come and see me? I hardly like to ask her a favour, but I long to see Peggy once more. Ah, here's Barnes!"
The maid had been to match some silks for a piece of fancy-work her mistress was making; but Miss Leighton was not in the mood to look at her purchases now.
"Sit down, Barnes," she said. "I want to speak to you."
"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied, taking a chair and glancing at her mistress inquiringly. There was a better understanding between these two than there had been formerly, for each had discovered of late, that the other had a heart; and Barnes had nursed Miss Leighton devotedly during her long illness, a fact Miss Leighton was not likely to forget.
"I suppose the shops are very gay?" Miss Leighton questioned.
"Yes, ma'am, they are full of Christmas presents."
"And doubtless you've made some purchases to send to your mother and brother?"
Barnes assented, a pleased flush rising to her pale cheeks at the unusual kindness of her mistress's tone. She was emboldened to give Miss Leighton a list of the articles she had bought to send home to her people.
"I pack up a hamper for them every Christmas," she explained in conclusion, "and my poor brother is always so excited to see it unpacked."
"But would it not be much less trouble to you to send your mother the money you spend and let her buy what she wants herself?" Miss Leighton inquired.