“They are quite right.”

“But I am earning nothing.  I cannot get any employment.  I am only a burden and an expense.”

“Are you not also a pleasure?  And Leonard, is he not a dear object of love?  It is easy for me to talk, I know, who am so impatient.  Oh, I never deserved to be so happy as I am!  You don’t know how good Walter is.  I used to think him so cold and cautious.  But now, Ruth, will you tell Mr. and Miss Benson that I am here?  There is signing of papers, and I don’t know what to be done at home.  And when I come back, I hope to see you often, if you’ll let me.”

Mr. and Miss Benson gave her a warm greeting.  Sally was called in, and would bring a candle with her, to have a close inspection of her, in order to see if she was changed—­she had not seen her for so long a time, she said; and Jemima stood laughing and blushing in the middle of the room, while Sally studied her all over, and would not be convinced that the old gown which she was wearing for the last time was not one of the new wedding ones.  The consequence of which misunderstanding was, that Sally, in her short petticoats and bedgown, turned up her nose at the old-fashioned way in which Miss Bradshaw’s gown was made.  But Jemima knew the old woman, and rather enjoyed the contempt for her dress.  At last she kissed them all, and ran away to her impatient Mr. Farquhar, who was awaiting her.

Not many weeks after this, the poor old woman whom I have named as having become a friend of Ruth’s during Leonard’s illness three years ago, fell down and broke her hip-bone.  It was a serious, probably a fatal, injury, for one so old; and as soon as Ruth heard of it she devoted all her leisure time to old Ann Fleming.  Leonard had now outstripped his mother’s powers of teaching, and Mr. Benson gave him his lessons; so Ruth was a great deal at the cottage both night and day.  There Jemima found her one November evening, the second after their return from their prolonged stay on the Continent.  She and Mr. Farquhar had been to the Bensons, and had sat there some time; and now Jemima had come on just to see Ruth for five minutes, before the evening was too dark for her to return alone.  She found Ruth sitting on a stool before the fire, which was composed of a few sticks on the hearth.  The blaze they gave was, however, enough to enable her to read; and she was deep in study of the Bible in which she had read aloud to the poor old woman, until the latter had fallen asleep.  Jemima beckoned her out, and they stood on the green just before the open door, so that Ruth could see if Ann awoke.

“I have not many minutes to stay, only I felt as if I must see you.  And we want Leonard to come to us to see all our German purchases, and hear all our German adventures.  May he come to-morrow?”

“Yes; thank you.  Oh!  Jemima, I have heard something—­I have got a plan that makes me so happy!  I have not told any one yet.  But Mr. Wynne (the parish doctor, you know) has asked me if I would go out as a sick nurse—­he thinks he could find me employment.”