"I do believe he remembers you," said she. "I'll just put on the kettle for daddy's tea, and put my flowers in water, and then I must mend Bridget's frock decent for the sewing-school to-morrow."
"I'll tend him while you do it," said Phil, whose heart began to feel a good deal lighter.
He walked up and down, or sat on the seat by the door, crooning a song till the poor little baby fell fast asleep and had a good nap.
"Thank you ever so much; he'll be quiet now," said Matty. "Just lay him in his cradle. And, Phil, I'm sorry I said what I did."
"Oh, never mind; it didn't signify," answered Phil. "Do you mean to go to Sunday-school?"
"I can't get away, but I learn my lessons all the same," said Matty. "'Tis a beautiful Golden Text we have this week: 'If God so loved us, we ought also to love one another' (1 John 4:11). He gave his Son to die for us, and that's the way we are to be saved. Well, good-by, Phil, and thank you for the flowers, and for tending Patsy."
Phil planted his vines, and then went into the house, where he found his mother.
"You've been gone a long time," said she.
"I went to carry Matty Mehan some flowers, and then stayed to tend Patsy a bit," said Phil.
"Oh well, you're right to help the poor thing when you can," said his mother, who with all her careless ways was very kindhearted. "I think I'll go up to-morrow when I've done our own washing and wash their bits of clothes for them. But now look on granny's bed and see what fine clothes I brought you from Mrs. Barnard's the day, as good as new, and better than any new you would get at the store."