Chapter 5 A FEW SHIRTS.

OU look tired, mother," said Meg, drawing forward the arm-chair the first time her mother-in-law came to see her after her wedding-day.

"I am," answered Mrs. Seymour, sinking into the seat with a weary sigh.

"I was going to set out to call on you this morning, but, stupid-like, I never asked Jem where you lived before he went to his work. So I couldn't come."

"And Jem never told you where I lived?" asked Mrs. Seymour, astonished.

"I asked him," answered Meg, "and he smiled at me, and said he should tell me nothing about it, but take me to see."

"Why, I live in the very same house, my dear."

Meg looked too surprised to speak. When at last she could find any words, she said anxiously-

"How very unkind you must have thought me, mother, in not coming to see after you. Times I have meant to ask Jem, but then he was out; and these few days have passed so quickly, I have been so busy getting out all my little treasures."

Mrs. Seymour looked round.

"Your things have made a lot o' difference, my dear. You have smartened it up a deal."

"Oh, it did not want smartening up," said Meg; "but the young ladies at the Hall did give me such pretty things. Look at this workbox, and this tea-caddy, and that pretty vase. Those were the young ladies' gifts, and those glass dishes from the other servants."

Mrs. Seymour said they were very kind, and then sat looking somewhat abstractedly into the little fire.

"And he never told you what a job he had to get these rooms for you?" she asked at last.

"No," said Meg; "did he have a job?"

"Oh, that he had. For the party that was in them didn't want to move out. You must know, Meg, that I and Jem lived in two rooms in this house ever since I buried his poor father. But when he got to earn enough, he took the front room on this floor for himself, and used to come and have his meals with me. I've lived in this house twenty years come Michaelmas. I'm a laundress, you know, and wash for poor folks."

"A laundress!" exclaimed Meg, looking at her pale, thin face; "then that's what makes you so tired?"

"No, my dear," briefly answered her mother, "not if I had got my usual help. But she's took a day's holiday, as she does whenever it suits her, and I and my work may go then, for aught she cares."

The old woman's face had begun to assume a hard look, but it was only for a moment.

"Well, well," she said hastily, "it's not for me to be coming down hard on others; I'm not so good myself to my Master. But there was a day, Meg, when I couldn't have felt like that; and it ain't so long ago, neither. It was my Jem as brought me the good news, and since I've been forgiven myself, I'm learnin' to forgive. It makes all the difference."

"It does indeed," answered Meg gently, seating herself in a low chair close to the old woman, and putting her hand in hers.

The caress was unexpected, and her mother looked down upon her with quick watering eyes.

"I might help you to-day," said Meg, hesitating a little.

Not that she grudged offering her help, but she knew so little of her mother-in-law's life. Should she have to go and wash and iron among a lot of other women?

Mrs. Seymour paused a moment before answering, and then said cheerfully-

"Well, my dear, if you would help me for an hour or so, till Jem comes home to dinner, I should be very much obliged, and then we can ask him. What worries me is, that I promised a man who is going away to get his shirts done by one o'clock; but I was that beat, that I could not stand another moment."

"I wish you had asked me," said Meg, looking grieved. "You must try to think of me as a real daughter."

Mrs. Seymour was much touched, but it was not her way to show feeling, and she only answered-

"Thank you, my dear. I shall take your kindness as it was meant; but if you help me at any little pinch like this, you must not be hurt at my giving you what I should have given Jenny."

Meg looked mystified, and then coloured painfully.

"Oh, I don't think I could," she began; but her mother-in-law stopped her.

"Talk it over with Jem, my dear; this is a hard world, and if you could put by a little for a rainy day you would not be sorry. I must pay some one; why not you?"

"We will talk to Jem," said Meg, recovering herself, and speaking with cheerful alacrity. "I am quite ready, mother; so if you are, we will come and begin, because one o'clock will be soon here."

"They're all starched and damped down," said Mrs. Seymour, "and the irons is heating beautiful."

They turned from the door, and Meg prepared to run down-stairs.

"Not there!" exclaimed Mrs. Seymour. "Why, Meg, I live at the top."

"Oh," said Meg, laughing, "you must scold Jem for not telling me."

"Yes, I live at the top," Mrs. Seymour went on as they reached the landing, "because, you see, no one don't interfere with me up here. I hang my things across here, or I hoist them along this pole out o' window, and I can manage finely."

"Capital," said Meg heartily. "And have you both these rooms?"

"Yes, I rent both; but I have a lodger in one."

Meg made no answer, but followed Mrs. Seymour into the front room, where hung numerous lines close to the ceiling, with clean clothes airing away as fast as they could.

The fire was bright, and so were the irons; so were the tins on the shelf, and one or two covers on the wall. In the middle of the room stood a spotlessly white deal table, and across the window an ironing-board covered with a blanket and cloth, all ready for use.

"What a nice room!" said Meg. "Shall I begin now, mother?"

Mrs. Seymour assented, standing by and watching critically, while Meg looked round for the iron-holder, saw that the stand was ready, and bent over the fire to lift off the iron. Her mother had placed a collar in readiness for her to begin on, and waited while she dusted her iron and put her first pressure upon it, after which she turned back to the arm-chair and sat down with a satisfied sigh.

Meg's cheeks were hot under the gaze of those observant eyes, but she went on without looking up till the collar was done and another spread out. Then she said-

"What will be the next thing, mother?"

"You've learnt from a good ironer, my dear."

"Yes, that was mother," answered Meg brightly; "they used to say so at the Hall."

"I don't doubt it. There are the shirts rolled up in that cloth. When you've done one hang it here to air; I always air everything. Poor people haven't fires, you know, and there's plenty of rheumatics caught by damp clothes."

Meg ironed away, and the weary old woman caught herself dropping into a doze. It was all very well being up early and late, and washing and drying and folding, but worry quite knocked her up; and to know that she had a certain time in which those shirts must be done, and being deprived of her strong helper, she had felt as if her usual energy had failed her.

A gentle voice roused her.

"They are finished, mother. Have you anything else you want done, or may I go down and see if it is time for Jem?"

"To be sure," answered Mrs. Seymour, opening her eyes. "Have you done a'ready? Thank you kindly, my dear."

Her quick glance scanned the shirts hanging neatly folded on the large horse in front of the fire.

"Are they right?" asked Meg. "I had to guess a little, because I have not ironed any of these sort of shirts ever."

"They will do quite well, thank you, my dear. I don't fold 'em just so, but I don't see that it matters much for once. He won't know no difference."

Just then a step was heard on the wooden stairs, and Meg started and turned round.

"Is my little woman here?" asked a voice that made her heart bound.

"Just ain't she?" answered her mother-in-law with animation. "Here have I been sleepin' like any top, and Meg's come and done my work for me."

Jem looked well pleased. He knew his upright old mother far too well to fear that Meg would be called on too often to help.

"Oh, it's nothing," said Meg; "but now, Jem, you must come to dinner, or you'll not be back in your hour."

They left the old woman, and as they went down, up came the man to fetch his shirts.

"All right," said Mrs. Seymour, handing them to him; "and I've put on the buttons. No thanks to Jenny, though, I can tell you. It's my new daughter as has helped me."

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