And as they sat there, little dreaming of what was about to happen, a graceful woman's figure came slowly along the sunny road to their gate and there paused.
"Why, it's Miss Grace Barley, I do declare!" cried Mrs.Dawson, rising hurriedly to her feet.

"Go and open the gate for her, father, do.

Why, whatever is she doing here, at this time of day?
Sunday, too, and all.

It is very kind of her, I am sure." Patience began hurriedly gathering together the tea-things and carrying them into the house, Jessie helping her.
"Wouldn't Miss--the lady like some tart, granny ?" she asked, as she saw her grandmother beginning to pick it up.

To her it seemed that every one must hunger for anything so delicious.