CHAPTER X.
CHARLIE REACHES HOME.
After that exciting morning, Jessie saw Miss Patch always once a day, at least, for she never failed to go up to her room to ask her if she could do any errands, or anything else for her, and very, very glad Miss Patch was, many a time, to be saved the long drag down all the stairs and up again, and the walk through the cold wet streets during the bitter winter months.
Being saved this much exertion, she was able to get down oftener to see Charlie, and both he and Jessie loved these visits of hers.
More than once, too, when her husband was away, Mrs.Lang came for a brief spell, and they had tea together again in Charlie's room.
It was on one of the occasions when she was alone with Miss Patch that Jessie told of her Sunday-school in the garden, or by the fireside, with her grandfather.

Her tears fell as she told of it, and her deep grief broke out uncontrollably, but Miss Patch did not try to check her story, she let her tell it all, thinking it would be better for her.
"And I've never been to Sunday-school, or to church since," she sobbed.

"Father won't let me." It was to Miss Patch, too, that she sobbed out the story of that dreadful day, and her grief for her grandparents and their suspense.
"It would not be so bad," she moaned, "if father would Let me write to them and tell them I am well and--and safe, and--and not so very unhappy; and I wouldn't mind so much if I knew how they were, but granny was ill, and I know granp would feel it dreadfully losing me like that and never knowing what had become of me.

They don't know where I am, or if I am alive or dead, and--and it has nearly killed them, I expect!" and her tears choked her.
"Will not your father let you write ?" asked Miss Patch in a husky voice.

The cruelty of it all made her kind heart ache with pain and indignation.
Jessie shook her pretty head mournfully.