Part 14 (2/2)
Miss Hobson looked at her curiously, but Meg only nodded and ran off.
Presently Meg allowed Mrs. Blunt to look for a moment with her into the little oven. There were the two loaves brown and crusty, with beautiful white ridges peeping out where the crust had broken, looking the picture of what home-made loaves should be.
”Are they done?” asked Mrs. Blunt.
”Not quite. They are not 'soaked,' as mother would say. If we took them out now they would be wet in the middle.”
She quickly shut the oven, looked at her fire, but did not touch it, as she had made it up before the bread went in; and then she turned to her kettle.
”Now boil as soon as you like,” she said to it. She spread a cloth, set some teacups, cut some bread and b.u.t.ter, and took out of her cupboard a tin of sardines. ”Jem heard what I was going to do, and he brought these home of his own idea; don't you think that was kind of him?” asked Meg.
”That it was,” said Mrs. Blunt. ”Why, I haven't been out to tea since--not for years.”
”Here is the kettle boiling, and here is Pattie's little loaf, just cool enough for her to touch. Come, Pattie, sit on this ha.s.sock on the chair by mother, you'll be high enough then.”
They gathered round the table while Meg invited her mother to ask the blessing; then they all began. But before Meg tasted hers she took up a couple of thin slices of bread and b.u.t.ter and a sardine on a little tray, with a nice hot cup of tea.
”Brought up some of the suns.h.i.+ne to me?” said Miss Hobson, smiling.
”Oh, I didn't mean that! But if you saw how thin and, careworn and poor she is----”
”I know it--I've seen her often enough. Meg, wasn't it Jem as said that you did with your might 'whatsoever your hand found to do'?”
”No, he said we ought to.”
”It's the same thing with you, I'm thinking.”
Meg went back to her tea-party, and by-and-by the bread was done, and came out of the oven looking a picture.
”How do you judge?” asked Mrs. Blunt.
But she need not have spoken, for Meg was tapping it with her knuckles, and when she heard it sound clear and bright on every side, she knew it was baked through.
”There, Mrs. Blunt, one of those is for you; see I will stand it on its top on this shelf to let the steam off, and when you go you shall take it with you. Whenever you like, I'll come down and watch you make one or two batches; that is, if mother does not want me.”
So the tea-party ended. Mrs. Blunt had not had such a quiet meal for years. Her face looked brighter and happier as she prepared to go back again. Mrs. Seymour had already returned to her ironing, and Meg was putting the loaf on a plate.
”Would you mind saying that text over again?” asked Mrs. Blunt wistfully.
”That about our burdens?” said Meg.
”She's teached me one,” said Pattie. ”I 'tan say it--'Jesus,'--that's what she teached me.”
”So I did,” said Meg, kissing her, ”and mother's text means just the same, only longer, because she's big. 'Cast thy burden on the _Lord_, and He shall sustain thee.'”
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