w, that the old
merry spirit sparkled forth as brightly as ever, and with it such a
marked improvement in health as rejoiced Peggy's heart to behold.

"Indeed, it's a perfect fraud I feel!" she explained one day, when the
girl had expressed delight at her altered looks; "for I seem able to do
all I want, while just as soon as I begin a tiresome duty I'm tired all
over, and feel fit for nothing but to lie down on my bed. I can stand
any amount of happiness, Peg, and not one little scrap of worry, and
that's a disgraceful confession for a woman of my years to make to a
girl like you! Ah, well, dearie, I've borne my own share of worries,
and when the old ships are worn out, they don't brave the storms any
more, but sail peacefully up and down the quiet streams. It's just a
useless old derelict I am, and that's the truth of it."

"Derelict, indeed! You will never be more than seventeen, if you live
to be seventy. You are the youngest member of the family at this
moment, and if you spoke the honest truth you would acknowledge that you
are in your element in the midst of these wedding preparations! I
believe you are far more excited than Esther herself."

"Indeed and I am. There is nothing I enjoy more than planning and
contriving, and making a great deal out of nothing at all. I've had a
grand turn out of my boxes and cupboards, and brought to light some
forgotten treasures which will come in most usefully just now. It
reminds me of the time before my own marriage, when I sat stitching
dreams of bliss into every seam, and indeed they have been fulfilled,
for I have been a blessedly happy woman! Now just look at these things
half a moment, my child, and tell me what you think I could do with
them. You are so clever at planning, and poor dear Esther is not a bit
of good in that direction. If you could suggest what to make, I could
cut out the patterns and set to work at once."

Mrs Asplin waved her hands towards a table on which her resurrected
treasures were spread out to view, and Peggy dropped her chin with a
preternaturally solemn expression, to avoid bursting into laughter. It
was such a melancholy-looking bundle, and Mrs Asplin looked so proud of
it, and it was so deliciously like the old vicarage way, to endeavour to
make everything out of something else, and to rummage out a store of old
rubbish, as the first step towards manufacturing a new garment! The
treasures which were to contribute towards Esthe