“You haven’t got a cold, I hope,” the girl asked sympathetically, but Mrs. Dawson reassured her.

After the boots had been fitted, a pair of felt slippers was brought and added to the collection; then sundry yards of calico and flannel, and brown holland, some stockings, and what Jessie thought the most wonderful of all, a pair of cotton gloves and some little handkerchiefs with coloured borders.

By the time all this was done both Mrs. Dawson and Jessie felt that they had had enough shopping for one day.  “And if I have forgotten anything, well, Norton isn’t so far off but what we can come again,” laughed Mrs. Dawson, refusing to listen to anything the pleasant-faced girl tried to tempt her with.

“Shawls, umbrellas, caps, sheets—­”

“No, none of them, thank you,” said granny decidedly.

The proprietor of the shop came up.  “Now, I am sure, Mrs. Dawson, you must want something for the master?” he urged smilingly.

“No, I don’t,” said granny.  “Thomas has got to make the best of what he has got.  All I want now is a cup of tea, and I must go and get it, and see about making our way home.”

“Well,” said Mr. Binns, “I am sure this little person can find a use for one of these,” and he picked up a little silk scarf with a flower worked in each corner, and laid it across Jessie’s shoulders.

Jessie looked up, speechless with delight.  “Well, I never!” Mrs. Dawson exclaimed; “now, that is kind of you, Mr. Binns.  I’m sure Jessie’ll be proud enough of that, won’t you, Jessie?”

“Oh yes, thank you,” said Jessie earnestly.  “I’ll—­I’ll only wear it for best.”

At which Mr. Binns and Mrs. Dawson and the pleasant-faced girl all laughed, Jessie didn’t know why, and then granny said “good-bye,” and she and Jessie made their way out into the street.  The afternoon sun was fading by this time, and the shadows had grown long.

“I do want my tea badly, don’t you?” said granny again.

“Yes,” sighed Jessie, for she was really very tired, “but it doesn’t matter,” she hastened to add.  It was what she used to say to her mother to comfort her when there was little or no food in the house.

“But it does matter,” said granny decidedly; “we have a longish walk before us, and we shan’t get anything for another couple of hours or so, if we don’t have it now.  So we’ll go and have a nice tea at once.  Come along,” and she led the way further down the street until they came to a baker’s shop, from which there floated out a delicious smell of hot cakes and pastry.

Behind the shop there was an old-fashioned, low-ceilinged room with small tables and chairs dotted about it.  At one of these Mrs. Dawson and Jessie seated themselves, and soon a kindly-faced woman brought in a tray with a brown teapot of tea, a jug of milk, and a goodly supply of cakes and bread and butter.

Jessie had never been in such a place before, and she felt there could be nothing grander or more interesting in the whole world.  In the shop outside people were coming and going, and one or two came in and seated themselves at other little tables, and Jessie sat and watched it all with the greatest interest, while she ate and drank as much as ever she wanted of the nice bread and butter and fascinating cakes.