he
asked.

"Weel, it is for her good. She has to like it."

"We can make it far nicer. See here," and Roberta beat the egg in the
cupful of milk, added a little sugar, and placed it in the oven. In a
few minutes it was a solid, excellent custard, and Margot enjoyed it
very much. "I ne'er liked raw food," she said, "and raw egg isna any
more eatable than raw fish, or raw meat."

In the afternoon the Domine and Jamie came in, and Roberta won his
heart readily with her gay good nature and thoughtful kindness to the
sick woman. He had put a letter into Christine's hand, as he came in
and said to her, "Go your ways ben, and read it, but say naething to
your mither anent its contents. Later I'll give you good reasons for
this."

So Christine went away, and opened her letter, and there fell from it
a five-pound note. And the letter was from a great magazine, and it
said the money was for the "Fisherman's Prayer" and he would be very
glad if she would write him more about fishers. There were also a few
pleasant words of praise, but Christine's eyes were full of happy
tears, she could not read them. What she did was to lay the letter and
the money on her bed, and kneel down beside it, and let her silence
and her tears thank the God who had helped her. "I was brought low and
He helped me," she whispered, as she bathed her eyes and then went
back to the company.

Such a happy afternoon followed! The Domine was in a delightful mood,
Jamie recited for the first time "How Horatio Kept the Bridge," and
Margot was as busy as her weak, old fingers would let her be. With the
Domine's approval, Christine showed her letter to Roberta, and they,
too, held a little triumph over the good, clever girl, for it was not
vanity that induced her confidence, it was that desire for human
sympathy, which even Divinity feels, or He would not ask it, and
Himself prompt its offering.

Soon after five o'clock they had a cup of tea together, and Roberta's
cab was waiting, and the fortunate day was over. Roberta was sorry to
go away. She said she had had one of the happiest days of her life.
She left her own little silk crochet bag with Margot, and gave her
gladly her pretty silver hook with its ivory handle, and the cotton
she had with her. She said she would send hooks of different sizes,
and the threads necessary for them, and also what easy patterns she
could find.

She went away amid smiles and blessings, and the Domine and Jamie went
with h