“Dear, dear!” said Susy.  “But she has touched me pretty often.  I don’t think you ought to say nasty things of that sort, Aunt Church, for if you do I may be able to—­”

Aunt Church fixed her glittering black eyes on Susan.

“Come here, child,” she said.

Susy went up to her somewhat unwillingly.

“My bark is worse than my bite,” said old Mrs. Church.  “Now look here; if you bring that charming young lady to see me, and give me notice a day or so before—­Tom can run over and tell me—­if you and Tom and Miss Kathleen O’Hara would come and have tea at my place, why, it’s the freshest of the plumcakes we’d have, not the stalest.  And the microscope should be out handy and in order, and with some prepared plates that my poor husband used, which I have never shown to anybody from the time of his death.  I have a magnifying-glass, too, that I can put into the microscope; it will make you see the root of a hair on your head.  And I will—­Whisper, Susy!”

Susy somewhat unwillingly bent forward.

“I will give you five shillings.  You’d like to trim your hat to match that handsome blouse, wouldn’t you?”

Susy’s eyes could not help dancing.

“Five shillings all to yourself; and I won’t press your mother about the installment which was due to me yesterday.  I’ll manage without it somehow.  But I want to see that beautiful young lady in my cottage, and you will get the money when you bring her.  That’s all.  You are a queer little girl, and not altogether to my taste, but you are no fool.”

Susy stood silent.  She put her hand on the moth-eaten cushion of the old bath-chair, bent forward, and looked into Mrs. Church’s face.

“Will you take back the words you said?”

“Will I take back what?”

“If not the words, at least the thought?  Will you say that you know that I got this blouse honestly?”

“Oh, yes, child!  I’d quite forgotten all about it.  Now just see that you do what I want; and the sooner the better, you understand.  And, oh, Susy, mum’s the word with regard to me being well off.  I ain’t, I can tell you; I am quite a poor body.  But I could do a kindness to you and your mother if—­if certain things were to come to pass.  Now that’s about all.—­Pull away, Tom, my boy.  I have a rosy apple which shall find its way into your pocket if you take me home in double-quick time.”

Tom pulled with a will; the little bath-chair creaked and groaned, and Mrs. Church nodded her wise old head and she was carried over the country roads.

Meanwhile Susy entered the house with her mother.

“What a blessing,” said Mrs. Hopkins, “that that pretty young lady happened to call!  I never saw such a change in any one as what took place in your aunt after she had seen her.”

“Well, mother, you know what it is all about,” said Susy.  “Aunt Church wants to get into one of those almshouses.”