The two women sewed in silence for a little while; each heart knew its own bitterness.
"Jane," Mrs. Hubbard said, stopping suddenly and looking into the bright grate in front of the stove, "shall I tell you what this puts me in mind of, seeing this nice bright cooking-stove? Of that New Year's night, the winter Robert was sick, and our children were all little, when you came round and brought them over to spend the afternoon, and boiled candy for them and let them pop corn. They brought us home a plateful of braided sticks. Poor little things! if it hadn't been for you, they wouldn't have had so much as a pin for a New Year's present, their father was so sick, and I was so worn out. Why, only think, they had been teazing me to buy them some candy, and I actually did not feel that I could afford that quart of molasses! I've thought of it often and often since. Somehow, this winter there's scarcely a day when it doesn't come into my mind, and I always feel like crying."
Mrs. Snelling was crying, as Mrs. Hubbard's voice faltered more and more; she did not attempt to conceal it, she remembered that New Year's day so well, and how she had pitied Susan's poor little boys, and brought them home and made them as happy as children could be made, in the very kindness of her warm heart. The long struggle with poverty and care had not seared it, after all.
"Don't cry, Jane. But you won't mind, and you won't misunderstand me now, if I've brought you a New Year's present of a dress? I was afraid you wouldn't take it as it was meant, if I just sent it. Here it is." And Mrs. Hubbard unrolled the very raw silk plaid Mrs. Snelling had so long coveted. "I wanted it to be useful, and I went down to get a cashmere like mine; but you happened to be there when I went in, and I saw how long you looked at this."
Mrs. Snelling remembered the day, and that she had come home thinking Mrs. Hubbard had felt too grand to talk to her before the clerks.
"I was afraid you would find me out, and so I kept at the other end of the store. Now, you won't misunderstand me, will you, Jane?"
"Oh, Susan, I had such hard thoughts, you don't know." And Mrs. Snelling put her apron up to her eyes, instead of looking at the new silk.
"Never mind that now, it's only natural. I could see just how you felt, for the more I tried to be neighborly, the colder you got. It's grieved me a good deal. But about the dress. Ann was not very busy, and so I had her make the skirt, as we could wear each other's dresses in old times, and every little helps when a person has a good deal to do. If you will let me know when Miss Prime comes to make it up, she shall come over and sew with her."
"Charity is not easily provoked, suffereth long, and is kind," was the minister's text the next Sunday; but Mrs. Snelling thought of a better illustration than any he could offer, and noted the rest of the verse with humiliation—charity envieth not.
