Meanwhile Thomas had let their visitor in and welcomed her warmly, and they came slowly up the path together, looking at the flowers as they passed.  Jessie stood by her little chair, watching the lady.  She knew she was the Miss Grace Barley who lived in one of the pretty houses by the green, and she thought she looked as pretty as the house and just right to live in it.

When they came close Miss Grace smiled at her, then stooped and kissed her.  “You are Jessie, I know,” she said kindly.  “I have seen you in church with your granny and grandfather.”

“Yes, miss,” said Jessie shyly, not quite knowing what to say, but feeling that something was expected of her, “and I have seen you there.”

Mrs. Dawson came out of the house, and Miss Grace shook hands with her.  “You must wonder to see me here at this time of day, Mrs. Dawson,” she said brightly.  “The organist at Hanford is ill, and I have been out there to play the organ at the morning and afternoon services; I was on my way home when I caught sight of you all in your pretty garden, and I couldn’t resist coming in to join you.”

“I’m sure we’re very glad you did, miss,” said Patience warmly.  “And you haven’t had any tea yet, Miss Grace, I’ll be bound now.”

Miss Barley smiled and shook her head.  “No, I have not, I am really on my way to it, but I would rather sit here for a few moments first, though, and talk to you.”

“You can do both, miss, if you will,” said Patience hospitably.  “I was about to clear the tea-things away, thinking they looked untidy, when Jessie stopped me.  She was sure you would like a piece of apple-pie and cream, and I was sure you’d like a cup of tea with it; so the kettle is on and I’ll have a cup ready in a minute if you’ll excuse my leaving you.  Thomas, give Miss Grace a chair,” and Patience bustled away into the house delighted.

Mr. Dawson brought out another chair, and he and Jessie seated themselves one on each side of their visitor.  Miss Barley withdrew her admiring gaze from the distant view.

“Don’t you love Sunday, Jessie?” she asked, laying her hand gently on the little girl’s shoulder.  “A Sunday like this, when even the birds and the cattle, and even the flowers seem to be more glad and happy and peaceful than usual.”

“Oh yes,” said Jessie, losing all her shyness at once, “speshally now when granp and me have Sunday-school out here.  We are going to have it every Sunday, ain’t we, granp?  We shall have it out here when it is fine, but when winter comes we shall go in by the fire.”

Miss Grace looked at Mr. Dawson inquiringly.  “What a lovely plan,” she cried enthusiastically.  “Whose idea was it, yours, Mr. Dawson?” and Thomas, blushing a little, told her all about it.