"My Aunt Maggie! she that went away! I have got her picture in a box. I showed it to little Miss Joy that last evening she was ever running about, and she came home with me."
"Bet, that Aunt Maggie is Joy's mother."
"How do you know?"
"She is with Joy now. I have left them together."
"Are you come to tell grannie? She has been so mopy since the wedding. Uncle Joe had a breeze with her just before he married. She says she can't get along living in this house alone with me. Come and see her, do; and tell her about Aunt Maggie. I think you must tell her that."
"But I do not know your grandmother very well. I have scarcely spoken a dozen words to her in my life."
"I feel afraid to tell her," Bet said. "Do come along, please, Mrs. Harrison."
Patience did not like to refuse the earnest pleading of poor Bet. Just as they reached the back door—for Bet never entered at the front—she paused.
"Little Miss Joy won't care for me, or no one, now that she has got her mother. I say, is it wicked? I almost wish Aunt Maggie had never come back. Little Miss Joy will belong to her now, and—she won't care for me."
"Bet," Patience said, "all love that is very, very strong for any person is likely to lead to jealousy; take care, for jealousy would make you unhappy. True love thinks nothing of itself in comparison with the person beloved. Whatever is for the good and for the happiness of any one we love, should make us happy also. Try to see that."