Things had suddenly become so perplexing, she did not know what to do or think.
"Oh dear," she sighed, "it all seemed so lovely only an hour ago.
I thought it was going to last like it for ever and ever." She was so lost in perplexity about Aunt Emma's future, that Mrs.
Perry was left to entertain their guest,--to listen, at least, to the tale of her wanderings and sufferings, and the hardships she had endured all her life.
"I've never 'ad nobody to care for me, nor no kindness from anybody, so I haven't got to thank anybody for anything--that's one thing!" the poor foolish woman kept repeating, as though, instead of being ashamed of it, it was something to be proud of.
"As we sow, we reap," thought Aunt Martha; the truth of the words had come home to her many times, since she had taken in the two friendless waifs.

Dick and Huldah would have loved this woman too, if she had allowed them to.

She grew a little impatient of the long complainings.

"We don't get love back, if we don't give any," she said at last.
"Who'd I got?
Who'd want me to love them ?" she demanded, peevishly.
"Why, the child, for one, and Dick, and that poor old horse, not to speak of your husband." Emma Smith was silent.

It had never before entered her head that to be loved one must love, that the way to win it is to think of others first, and self last.