before us, and we shan't get anything for another couple of hours or
so, if we don't have it now. So we'll go and have a nice tea at
once. Come along," and she led the way further down the street until
they came to a baker's shop, from which there floated out a delicious
smell of hot cakes and pastry.

Behind the shop there was an old-fashioned, low-ceilinged room with
small tables and chairs dotted about it. At one of these Mrs. Dawson
and Jessie seated themselves, and soon a kindly-faced woman brought
in a tray with a brown teapot of tea, a jug of milk, and a goodly
supply of cakes and bread and butter.

Jessie had never been in such a place before, and she felt there
could be nothing grander or more interesting in the whole world.
In the shop outside people were coming and going, and one or two came
in and seated themselves at other little tables, and Jessie sat and
watched it all with the greatest interest, while she ate and drank as
much as ever she wanted of the nice bread and butter and fascinating
cakes.

"I wish mother could see me now," she sighed at last. "And oh,
wouldn't it be nice if she was here, too. She'd love a beautiful tea
like this."

Patience Dawson did not know what reply to make, her feelings brought
a sob to her throat, and the old ache back to her heart.

"Oh, I expect she is having quite as good a tea as we are," she said
at last, for want of something else to say. But Jessie shook her
head sagely.