“The Lord has provided abundantly to-day, Mrs. Blake.”

“I won’t allow but somebody has.  Maybe the Lord put it in your heart, I can’t say for sartin.  It’s a curious mixed up world, and we don’t know where men leaves off and the Lord begins; but that blind man is a Christian, and if there is such a thing as religion he’s got it and no mistake.”

As I looked around at the changed appearance of everything about me I concluded Mrs. Blake did the work of the Christian, even if she made no profession.  The house had been scrubbed, the stove nicely polished, and the children’s faces shone with the combined effects of soap and water and the good cheer that was being provided.

Mr. Bowen was sitting back, as if afraid of absorbing too much of the heat, rocking the cradle and singing in a rich, low voice one of the most beautiful hymns I ever heard, the look of peace that came from some unseen source still lighting his face.  With Mrs. Blake’s assistance, and with occasional exclamations of delight, on her part I unpacked the hamper and then I took a little wine and a bunch of grapes in to Mrs. Larkum.  I was shocked at the change a few weeks had made in her appearance.  She saw the pained look in my face and her own countenance fell.

“Mrs. Blake told me you seemed sure I would get better.  Do you think now there is no hope?” she asked pitifully.

“I shall not give you up until we try the effect of these,” I said cheerfully, putting the cup that contained the wine to her lips and laying the grapes in her hand.  She took a sip or two and then put the cup aside.  “I have eaten so little for several days you would soon make me intoxicated with that rich wine.  I never tasted any like it,” she said, with a pitiful attempt at a smile.  I got out a slice of cook’s home-made bread, and toasting it before the fire, with Mrs. Blake’s help, we soon had a dainty lunch prepared for her with jelly, and a cup of tea with real cream, an unknown delicacy in her cottage, floating on the top.  I carried it and watched while she ate it all.  “Perhaps it may kill me,” she said, plaintively, “but I believe I am more hungry than sick.  This cold cut me right down, and I had nothing to tempt my appetite.”

“I believe Miss Selwyn is one of them wonderful people what has the gift of healing.  I’ve heard tell of ’em, but I never seen one,” Mrs. Blake said, regarding me at the same time very seriously.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” Mrs. Larkum responded calmly.  “I made up my mind only this morning it was useless for me to expect to get round again; and I was nearly heartbroken thinking of poor father and the children going on the parish.”

“A nice new frock, and good vittels ain’t bad medsin for poor folks sometimes,” Mrs. Blake said dryly.

“That is true; but I was feeling very low and weak,” Mrs. Larkum said, apologetically.

“We all know that, and more’n yourself was afraid it might go hard with you.”