Mrs. Norris hesitated before she spoke again. She felt as if she could not bear to have her poor child so hardly punished now when she was suffering, and had just escaped such a great danger. She could not let Nora finish the petticoat, but why not finish it herself, she thought, as well as make another, and send it to Miss Ashton with a message from Lily that she had not done the whole of it herself?
Just then came a knock at the door, and, being bidden to enter, Robert brought a note for Miss Lily, saying the messenger waited for an answer.
"It is Maggie's writing, I think," said Mrs. Norris.
Lily raised herself, and held out her hand.
"You cannot read it for yourself, dear. Shall I do it?" asked her mother.
Lily assented, and, opening the note, Mrs. Norris read as follows:—
"Dear Lily,—We are so sorry for you, all of us, but we are so very happy you were not killed by Sir Percy Hotspur, who is very nice to play with, but not nice to fall underneath, and we are glad you are not such a victim as that. But, Lily, dear, we do not know, Bessie and I, if you have finished your petticoat for the orphan child. We did not ask you on Saturday because we thought if it was not done you wouldn't like to say so, but we thought perhaps the reason you did not speak about it was because a 'burnt child dreads the fire,' which means people don't like things that bring them into trouble, or to speak about them. So we thought it was quite probable that it was not done, and we know you cannot finish it now, for yesterday we met Dr. Banks when we were coming from church, and he said you could not go to school, or use your poor hurt eye for a good many days. So, dear, if you would let me finish it for you, I would be very glad, and Bessie will too, and you can send it to me by Patrick. And you need not think I will have to do it all in my play-time, for mamma says I can do it in my sewing-lesson to-day, which is half an hour, and if there is any more, I'd just as lieve do it afterwards, and the heart which would not do that is not worthy of a friend, but ought to be like a man we read about the other day who lived in a tub and was cross to everybody. And do you believe, people called him a wise man!!! Which shows they must have been very stupid people in those days to call such an old cross-patch wise, and I'm glad I was never acquainted with him for I would not consider him fit to know.
"So ask your mamma to send me the petticoat if it is not done, that my true friendship may have the pleasure of finishing it. From your esteemed friend,
"Maggie Stanton Bradford.
"P.S. If a pretty bad button-hole would be any relief to your feelings instead of strings, I would just as lieve make one, but it don't look very nice."
To have seen Lily's eyes—or rather her eye, for you know there was only one to be seen—as her mother finished reading this letter to her! to have seen the pleading of her poor little face!
"Well, dear," said her mother, smiling back in answer to the unspoken question that was written in every line of her Lily's countenance. "Well, dear, shall we accept Maggie's offer?"