it."

"Only love does understand it, ma'am."

"How do you mean, please?"

"Ma'am, it is only love that can live in the life of another; and when
that other is God, one lives in a secure and wealthy abode. And then it
does not much matter where one's body is. At least, so I find it."

Dolly looked very thoughtful for a minute; then she rose up.

"I am coming again," she said; "I am coming very soon, Mrs. Jersey.
Now, will you tell me how I can get home? I must be as quick as I can."

"That is provided for, ma'am," said Mrs. Jersey. "It's a longish way
round by the road, farther than even you came this afternoon; and
you're not fit for it; far from it, I should say. I have ordered the
dog-cart to take you home; and it's ready."

"How could you be so kind to a stranger?" said Dolly, giving her hand.
But the housekeeper smiled.

"You're no stranger to me, ma'am," she said, clasping the hand Dolly
had given. "It is true I never saw you before; but whenever I see one
of my Lord's children, I say to myself, 'Jersey, there is another of
the family, and the Lord expects you to do what you can for him, or for
her, as the case may be.'"

Dolly laughed and ran away. The adventure was taking beautiful shape.
Here she was to have a charming drive home, to end the day; a drive
through the pretty country lanes. And they were charming in the evening
light. And the dog-cart did not bring her to Brierley Cottage a bit too
soon; for Mrs. Copley was already fidgeting about her.

CHAPTER XII.

THE HOUSE.

Dolly did not tell all her experiences of that afternoon. She told only
so much as might serve to quiet and amuse her mother; for Mrs. Copley
took all occasions of trouble that came in her way, and invented a few
more. Mrs. Jersey had sent along in the dog-cart a basket of
strawberries for the sick lady; so Dolly hoped her mother's impressions
of this day at least would be favourable.

"Did you ever see such magnificent berries, mother? black and red?"

"Why haven't we berries in our garden?" Mrs. Copley returned.

"Mother, you know the garden has not been kept up; nobody has been
living here lately."

"Then why did not your father get some other house, where the garden
_had_ been kept up, and we could have our own fruit and vegetables? I
think, to be in the country and not have one's own garden and fresh
things, is forlorn."

"There is one thing, mother; there are plenty of markets in this
country."

"And plent