r Biddy's
journey.

"She gets out, yer see, at Canley station. That's as far as the rail
goes. There she'll be met and druv over to Wavebury--eight miles, Mrs
Roy said."

"Dear!" exclaimed Mrs Jones, as the letter was folded up again, "what a
outlandish place!"

"We've worked hard, Biddy and me," continued Mrs Lane with a glance of
pride at her daughter and a little sigh, "to get all her things nice and
ready. Two new dark laylock prints I've got her."

"With a spot?" inquired Mrs Jones full of interest.

"No, with a sprig--I always think there's an air about a laylock print
with a sprig. It looks respectable and like service. I don't hold with
them new-patterned bright cottons. Once in the wash-tub, and where are
they afterwards? Poor ragged-out things not fit to wear. I remember I
had laylock prints when I first went to service as a gal, and there's
bits of them very gowns in the patch-work quilt yonder."

"Ah!" said Mrs Jones admiringly. Then looking at Biddy's capable
little square figure she added, "You'll miss her at first a goodish bit
at home."

"If it wasn't that baby's out of hand now and runnin' about I couldn't
let her go, not if it was ever so," replied Mrs Lane emphatically.
"But I shall rub along somehow, and seven pounds a year's a
consideration. Yes, she's a handy gal, Biddy is, with children. She
had ought t'know summat about 'em, for she's helped to bring six of 'em
up. There was Stevie--a deal of trouble we had with him. Always
weakly, and cut his teeth in his legs. Never out of arms, that child
wasn't, till he was pretty nigh two year old. I never should a' reared
him if it hadn't been for Biddy. That I own."

On the subject of Stevie's sufferings Mrs Lane had always a great deal
to say, and when she paused, less from lack of matter than want of
breath, Mrs Jones took up the tale and added experiences of a like
nature. Biddy therefore heard no further reference to herself and her
prospects, and pursued her own thoughts undisturbed. And she had a
great deal to think of, for to-morrow she was going into the world! She
would say good-bye to Buzley's Court and to all the things and people in
it she had known and lived with, and turn her face to meet new things
and new people. Nothing would be familiar to her in that strange world,
not even tea-cups with blue rims like these she was washing up for the
last time. Everything new, down to the two lilac prints, made longer
tha