ver she did was done in silence. No one in telling of the help she
gave, could tell a word that she had uttered beyond the message which
her mistress had sent. But though she had few words for any one, she
had many thoughts about other people's troubles, which helped her to
turn from the constant brooding over her own. So she got more good than
she gave, which is oftener the case with the doers of kindly deeds than
is always known.

It was in this way that her acquaintance began with Mrs Beaton, who
lived in a house at the end of the street, close by the green. Allison
had sometimes seen her in the kirk, and had noticed her at first for no
better reason than that she wore a bonnet. Of course there were other
bonnets in the kirk--many of them. The times were changing for the
worse, it was thought, and even the servant-lassies were getting to wear
bonnets. But of the elderly women who came there, not many had so far
changed the fashion of their youth as to cover the white "mutch" with
anything but a handkerchief in the summertime, or with a shawl, or with
the hood of the mantle of scarlet or grey duffel, when the weather was
cold.

Mrs Beaton wore a bonnet always at the kirk, and when she went to other
places, also, as if she had been used with it all her life. And she had
some other fashions, as well, which made her seem different from her
neighbours in Allison's eyes. She was small and fair, and over her grey
hair she wore a widow's cap which was not at all like the thick mutches
of the other women, and her shawls and gowns were of a texture and form
which told of better days long past. She "kept herself to herself," the
neighbours said, which meant that her door did not always stand open for
all comers, though she was neighbourly enough in other ways when there
was occasion. But though Allison had seen her, she had never spoken
with her till the night when the minister, hearing from one of the
neighbours that Mrs Beaton was but poorly, sent her over to inquire
about her.

"Just go down and see if you can do anything for her. I cannot have
your mistress disturbed to-night. You will know what to do. Mrs
Beaton is not just like the rest of them, as you will see yourself."

So, Allison went down the dark street, thinking a little about the sick
woman, but quite indifferent as to the welcome she might receive. The
house stood by itself, a little back from the road, and a wooden paling
enclosed a piece of