"She's no hand at washing,--leastways not to make anything respectable,--so I take a few of her things cheap. She was a tidy enough woman when she came; but poor living and many cares have beaten the life out of her."
Meg sighed, and wondered if there might be anything _she_ might do to lighten the burden; perhaps some day she might hold the baby or something.
Mrs. Seymour did not sit down to doze in her chair this morning. She kept Meg well supplied with things to iron, and Meg satisfied her as much as on the previous day.
"You do it just right," she said, approvingly. "You don't fiddle over it, and you don't hurry over it. Now, Jenny slights some of it, and puts so much work into the rest, that I tell her it's a wonder if there's a bit of profit left."
"I'm glad I do it right," said Meg, smiling. And then she thought of Jem's dinner, and ran down-stairs to put her pie in the little oven.
"How's your bread getting on?" asked Mrs. Seymour, when she came back.
"Oh, I left it for to-day. It does not matter," said Meg, rather hurriedly, for she did not want her mother to know what a disappointment it had been to have to give it up after all Jem's care and trouble.
Mrs. Seymour made no remark, but she drew her own conclusions; and when Meg had finished the ironing and had gone down-stairs, she went into the back room, and said to Miss Hobson--
"Yes, I did. I don't know as I could 'a done it; only married hardly a week. That's what I call thinking of others afore yerself."
Mrs. Seymour nodded and went back to clear her table for dinner, Miss Hobson's eyes watching her with interest meanwhile. On the whole, she did not feel sorry that she had given up her room to Meg.
When Jem came in at dinner-time and went to peep into the red pan, clean emptiness reigned there, and Meg sat quietly working by the window. As he understood nothing about bread-making, he concluded it must be in the oven. But when Meg went to that to lift out the pie, and he saw no bread there, he was fairly puzzled.
"Where's the baker's shop?" he asked playfully.
"Oh, Jem, I'm so sorry; but Jenny went out, and mother wanted the ironing done. I could not manage the bread too--so it's not done."
Meg looked so concerned that Jem had to get up and kiss her.