Madam Liberality staggered home, very giddy, but very happy.  Moralists say a great deal about pain treading so very closely on the heels of pleasure in this life, but they are not always wise or grateful enough to speak of the pleasure which springs out of pain.  And yet there is a bliss which comes just when pain has ceased, whose rapture rivals even the high happiness of unbroken health; and there is a keen relish about small pleasures hardly earned, in which the full measure of those who can afford anything they want is sometimes lacking.

Relief is certainly one of the most delicious sensations which poor humanity, can enjoy!  Madam Liberality enjoyed it to the full, and she had more happiness yet in her cup, I fear praise was very pleasant to her, and the assistant had praised her, not undeservedly, and she knew that further praise was in store from the dearest source of approbation—­from her mother.  Ah! how pleased she would be!  And so would Darling, who always cried when Madam Liberality was in great pain.

And this was only the beginning of pleasures.  The sixpence would amply provide “goodies” for the Christmas-tree, and much might be done with the forthcoming shilling.  And if her conduct on the present occasion would not support a request for a few ends of candles from the drawing-room candle-sticks, what profit would there be in being a heroine?

When her mother gave her two shillings instead of one, Madam Liberality felt in honour bound to say that she had already been rewarded with sixpence; but her mother only said,

“You quite deserved it, I’m sure,” and she found herself in possession of no less than half-a-crown.

And now it is sad to relate that misfortune again overtook Madam Liberality.  All the next day she longed to go into the village to buy sweetmeats, but it snowed and rained, and was bitterly cold, and she could not.

Just about dusk the weather slightly cleared up, and she picked her way through the melting snow to the shop.  Her purchases were most satisfactory.  How the boys would enjoy them!  Madam Liberality enjoyed them already, though her face was still sore, and the pain had spread to her throat, and though her ideas seemed unusually brilliant, and her body pleasantly languid, which, added to a peculiar chill trembling of the knees—­generally forewarned her of a coming quinsy.  But warnings were thrown away upon Madam Liberality’s obdurate hopefulness.

Just now she could think of nothing but the coming Christmas-tree.  She hid the sweetmeats, and put her hand into her pocket for the two shillings, the exact outlay of which, in the neighbouring town, by means of the carrier, she had already arranged.  But—­the two shillings were gone!  How she had lost them Madam Liberality had no idea.

She trudged through the dirty snow once more to the shop, and the counter was examined, and old Goody looked under the flour scales and in the big chinks of the stone floor.  But the shillings were not there, and Madam Liberality kept her eyes on the pavement as she ran home, with as little result.  Moreover, it was nearly dark.