there was
even a very faint attempt at some watery sunbeams. There wasn't a
better bargainer in all Shoreditch than Mrs. Reed, but to-day her
purchases were very small--a couple of Spanish onions, half a pound of
American cheese, some bread, a tiny portion of margarine--and she had
expended what money she thought proper.

She was soon at home again, and dinner was arranged.

"I may as well get the dinner," said Alison, rising and taking the
basket from the old woman.

"My dear, there aint nothing to get; it's all ready. The children must
have bread for dinner to-day. I bought a stale quartern loaf--I got a
penny off it, being two days old; here's a nice piece of cheese; and
onions cut up small will make a fine relish. There, we'll put the
basket in the scullery; and now, Alison, come over to the light and
take a lesson in the feather-stitching."

Alison followed Mrs. Reed without a word. They both took their places
near the window.

"Thread that needle for me, child," said the old woman.

Alison obeyed. Mrs. Reed had splendid sight for her age; nothing had
ever ailed her eyes, and she never condescended to wear glasses, old as
she was, except by lamplight. Alison therefore felt some surprise when
she was invited to thread the needle. She did so in gloomy and solemn
silence, and gave it back with a suppressed sigh to her grandmother.

"I don't think there's much use, Grannie," she said.

"Much use in wot?" said Mrs. Reed.

"In my learning that feather-stitching--I haven't it in me. I hate
needlework."

"Oh, Ally!"

Grannie raised her two earnest eyes.

"All women have needlework in 'em if they please," she said; "it's born
in 'em. You can no more be a woman without needlework than you can be
a man without mischief--it's born in you, child, the same as bed-making
is, and cleaning stoves, and washing floors, and minding babies, and
coddling husbands, and bearing all the smaller worries of life--they
are all born in a woman, Alison, and she can no more escape 'em than
she can escape wearing the wedding-ring when she goes to church to be
wed."

"Oh, the wedding-ring! that's different," said Alison, looking at her
pretty slender finger as she spoke. "Oh, Grannie, dear Grannie, my
heart's that heavy I think it 'll break! I can't see the
feather-stitching, I can't really." Her eyes brimmed up with tears.
"Grannie, don't ask me to do the fine needlework to-day."

Grannie's face turned pale.

"I