sing every one she cared for, not
finding them. All the little daily habits, and pleasures, and
friendlinesses, the trifles that made her life, were being taken from
her. In a few days more she would be a stranger among strangers,
with no one interested enough to care what became of her, and nothing
but her room and her flowers would remain the same. And even for how
long that much would be left her she could not know.

She would have the same room still, for Mrs. Lang had handed over the
house and everything in it, including the lodgers, to some people who
wanted a small lodging-house of the kind; but who they were, or what
they would be like, was all unknown to Miss Patch.

If, though, she did not show her own feelings then, Jessie found them
out a little later. Going unexpectedly up to Miss Patch's room to
present her with a geranium which had been one of her own particular
treasures, given her by Tom Salter, she found the poor old head bowed
on the table, and the poor thin body shaking with sobs. Jessie, in
great distress, dropped her geranium and ran to her.

"What is it? What has happened?" she cried. "Oh, Miss Patch, do tell
me," and throwing her warm little arms about her old friend, she
began to sob, too.

But Miss Patch's self-control had given way at last, and recover
herself she could not. Jessie tried to soothe and coax her, but
without effect, and she stood beside her at last hopeless, helpless.
Her brain was busy, though, and presently light came to her.

"Miss Patch," she said softly, "is it because we are all going away--
and you will be left here alone?" Her own voice quavered at the
thought.

One of Miss Patch's arms crept round Jessie and drew her close in an
almost convulsive grasp. "Yes," she whispered in a choked voice,
"I can't--I can't face it--the loneliness it--it--"

A sudden beautiful idea came to Jessie. "Don't stay!" she cried
impulsively, without a thought as to ways, or means, or any of the
other practical points, "come home with me, come to Springbrook,"
she cried excitedly. "Oh, do, do, Miss Patch, do. I want you to see
granp and granny, and I want them to know you, and--and, oh, it's
_lovely_ there, and you wouldn't be lonely, you'd have me and granp
and granny; and--and it wouldn't cost more, I am sure," she added
practically, "it is ever such a cheap place to live in; and--and we
would find you a nice room, and, oh, the flowers you'd have--"
She had to stop at l