nce, was struck by her weary, drooping look, by the
sadness of the tired old eyes. But she did not say anything.
Presently granny roused herself and looked up. "Put away your ironing,
child," she said kindly, "and go out and have a game of play. The air
will do you good."

"I don't want to go out, granny. There's no one to play with--and I'm
afraid to leave you; what could you do if you were to faint again?"

Granny sighed. The child was right. "I--I could knock in to Mrs. Lane,
perhaps," she said, but there was doubt in her voice, and she did not
press Mona any further.

Mona went on with her ironing, and granny went on staring into the fire,
and neither spoke again for some time. Not until Mona, going over to take
up a fresh hot iron, saw something bright shining on her grandmother's
cheek, then fall on to her hand.

"Are you feeling bad again, granny?" she asked anxiously. The sight of
the tear touched her, and brought a note of sympathy into her voice, and
the sympathy in her voice in turn touched her granny, and drew both
together.

"No--I don't know that I'm feeling worse than usual, but--but, well I feel
that it'd be a good thing if my time was ended. I'm only a trouble and a
burden now--no more help for anybody."

"Granny! Granny! You mustn't say such things!" Mona dropped her iron
back on the stove again, and threw herself on the floor beside her
grandmother. "You mustn't talk like that! You're weak, that's all.
You want to rest for a bit and have some tonics. Mrs. Lane says so."

"Does she? I seem to want something," leaning her weary head against
Mona's, "but it's more than tonics--it's a new body that I'm needing,
I reckon. I daresay it's only foolishness, but sometimes I feel like a
little child, I want to be took care of, and someone to make much of me,
and say like mother used to, 'Now leave everything to me. I'll see to it
all!' It seems to me one wants a bit of petting when one comes to the end
of one's life, as much as one does at the beginning--I don't know but what
a little is good for one at any age."

Mona slipped down till she sat on the floor at her granny's feet, her head
resting against granny's knee. "I think so too," she said wistfully.
Silence fell between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire within
and the buzz of insects, and the calling of the birds, outside in the
garden.

"Mona, how would you like it if we went into Seacombe to live?"

Mona was u