"It's the same size as you grandmother's, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it's very different; it looks so comfortable and is so beautifully clean."
From this remark Mrs. Jones judged that the kitchen next door was not beautifully clean. She had resumed her ironing, and for a few minutes she was silent, thinking, whilst every now and again she glanced at her companion. At length she said:
"Some one was speaking to me about you yesterday, Melina; guess who it was."
"William?" suggested Melina hesitatingly, after a brief consideration.
"No. Mr. Blackmore, a friend of our vicar's, who's come to be a lay-helper—"
"Oh!" interposed Melina, "the little gentleman! I did not know what he was called before! What is a lay-helper, Mrs. Jones?"
"Some one—not a clergyman—who helps in the parish," explained Mrs. Jones. "Yes, Mr. Blackmore called to see me yesterday," she went on, "and a very nice little gentleman he seems to be, so pleasant and cheerful; and yet it appears he has known a lot of trouble. He told me he lost his wife and two children years ago, and that he hadn't a near relation in the world."
"Then does he live alone at South View?" Melina inquired.
"Alone, except for servants. There, that shirt's finished; I'll put it in front of the fire to air. And now I should think those cakes are ready."