said no
more.

As she was crossing over to Mr. Boyd's, she saw a ladylike, sweet-faced
woman standing at the door of the shop.

Mr. Boyd was very busy rubbing up a chronometer, which the captain and
mate of one of the small sailing vessels were bargaining for; and as it
was difficult for more than three people to stand in the little shop at
once, Patience paused before entering.

"I am waiting to speak to Mr. Boyd," the lady--for so she looked--said.

"I dare say he will be at liberty directly," Patience said. "It is a
very small shop, and too full of goods for its size."

"Do you happen to know if Mr. Boyd has a little girl living with him?
She is now just short of nine years old. She is very----"

The voice suddenly faltered, and Patience hastened to say--

"She is a darling child. Mr. Boyd has adopted her, and he calls her
Joy. We all call her Joy--little Miss Joy. Do you know anything about
her?"

The lady grasped Mrs. Harrison's arm.

"Let me see Mr. Boyd," she said. "Wait till I see him."

The bargain in the shop was now completed, and the captain and mate
were departing with their chronometer, when Uncle Bobo sang out to
Patience--

"Glad to see you; the little one aloft is just hungry for a sight of
you. Bet isn't come yet. She's to help her old grannie before she
starts."

A bevy of little girls on their way to school now came up with flowers,
and some ripe plums in a basket.

"Please will you give these to little Miss Joy?" the eldest of the four
said, "with our love. Please, Mr. Boyd, how is she? is she better?"

"So they say, my dear; so they say. I wish I could say so too.
But--well--never mind. Here, Mrs. Patience, take 'em aloft to the
child. And now, ma'am, what can I show you?" Mr. Boyd said, turning to
the lady.

"The child--you call--little Miss Joy," was the reply, in faint tones.
"Mr. Boyd, you don't know me, and Mrs. Harrison does not know me. I
was once Maggie Skinner, and Little Joy is my child!"

Uncle Bobo looked with a keen glance from under his bushy grey eyebrows
into the lady's face.

"You Maggie Skinner! Well, I never!"

"Yes, I have had a great deal of trouble; but it is over now."

"Sit down; sit down," Uncle Bobo said, pushing a high round stool with
a slippery leather top, the only seat for which the shop could afford
room. "Sit ye down; but surely you look too old to be Maggie Skinner!"

"I have had many troubles. Oh! Mr. Boyd, can you forgi