It did not take Mrs. Colston long to sell up some of her furniture and the goodwill of her mangle, and settle down in her new quarters and to her new duties. By that time the three hundred pounds had not only been drawn out, but used, partly in paying debts and partly in adding to stock. On one point Phebe was very firm, and that was that a legal document be drawn up acknowledging the loan and agreeing to pay interest at five per cent. Not that Phebe considered that would cover all her liability. "As I prosper—if I do prosper," she said to Mrs. Colston, "you shall prosper too. We will be real partners."

"I don't want any of that lawyer's writing. Your word is sufficient," said Mrs. Colston.

"That may be, but I might be taken away, or some one else might step in," replied Phebe quietly.

Mrs. Colston quickly saw what was in Phebe's mind, and wisely forbore saying anything further. When Nanna had been duly installed, not only by mistress Phebe and Janie but also by their majesties, Queenie and Jack, Phebe took hold of the business reins in true-going style.

The first thing was to institute several reforms. One class of goods which had usually been sold under different prices received one fixed price; charges to different customers were made uniform.

Reynolds was shocked.

"So-and-so," said he, "will think the things are common if you don't put the price on."

"Then shall we level up, instead of levelling down?" asked the shrewd mistress.

"Oh, dear, no; for Mrs. Dash will deal somewhere else if she doesn't think she's having things extra cheap."

"I cannot help all these little peculiarities," said Phebe. "I mean to run this business on true, straight lines, whatever happens."

Reynolds wanted to say something about it being a woman's whim, but somehow or other the words would not come out. But a climax was reached when he felt that to keep silence longer would be guilty; this was when Phebe announced that in future the entire establishment would be closed every Saturday evening at eight o'clock.

"Mrs. Waring!" he exclaimed; "you have no idea what sacrifice you are making. If it is your assistants you are considering, why not close earlier on Wednesdays?"

"I intend to do that as well," she replied graciously; "but I may as well be frank with you and say it is not out of consideration to my assistants I am closing earlier on Saturdays."

"Then why do it? I want the business to be a success, and I am sure you do; but this plan, you will excuse me saying so, will be a dead loss. Why, we take as much sometimes on a Saturday evening as we do all day on Wednesday! And folks will say if we are so independent of their custom, they'll see we do without it altogether."

"Thank you most sincerely, Reynolds, for so unselfishly studying my interests. But your reasoning is a little at fault," she added, with a laugh. "If people think we can afford to be independent, that is the very best advertisement we could have, for you know the old saying, 'Nothing succeeds like success.' But neither success nor non-success weighs with me in this matter."

"May I ask, then, what does?" asked Reynolds, feeling quite in a fog. The question was put in a most respectful manner.

The answer was given in one word, "God," and when it was spoken both felt no inclination to pursue the subject further. But to Mrs. Colston, Reynold's felt he might explode to his heart's content.

"What's the good of trying to push things on, I should like to know? The mistress, with all these new-fangled ideas, will just ruin the business. What's God to do with a draper's shop, or a grocer's shop either?"

"Keep cool, my dear boy, keep cool. If God's got nothing to do with these shops then they'd better be closed."

"Do you mean to say God troubles Himself about sugar and calico?"

"Yes, I do, and with everything that goes on under this roof."

"Well, I don't, then; but if even He does, what has shutting up early on Saturday evenings to do with it?—that's what I want to know! I tell you it's only a woman's whim"—and he felt ever so much better after that expression had come out.

"To give herself and her friends proper time to prepare for the Sabbath."

"But she's not a Jewess."

Mrs. Colston could not keep from laughing. "The idea that only Jews want preparation-time! Why, Reynolds, I'm ashamed of you. To think that a grown-up Sunday School boy like you should be so dense! How can anybody keep the Sabbath properly who is toiling up to midnight on Saturday? And look how mean it seems, as though you said to the Lord, 'I'll take precious good care You don't get five minutes more time than I can help.' I tell you, Reynolds, your mistress won't lose a penny by honouring God. You mark my words, God has said, 'Them that honour Me, I will honour.' And if even she did lose some customers, she won't lose in the end, I tell you. You watch, but don't take short views of things."

"Well, you're a queer pair, that's all I can say." But it was not all he thought.

Phebe had received no business training whatever; even when a child a book had more fascination for her than a pair of scales, and to dream dreams was more in her line than playing at shop, or even dressing dolls. But she was one of those women who, when they once realise what the work is they are shut up to, quickly master all the details, and with zest determine to become master of it. She saw plainly there was no path before her but what led behind counters. For her children's sake, and for God's sake, she determined to make the business "go"; the zeal she put into it acted as balm to her wounded heart; her industry kept away the feeling of desolation, giving her no time to brood over the hardness of her lot. Indeed, the business was a "godsend," but for it she might have sunk into a spiritless, listless life; instead of that, faculties were developed in her that her nearest and dearest never dreamed she possessed. Of course her father warned her against all unwomanly ways, constantly reminding her that the duty of every member of her sex was to be like a flower and "blush unseen"; but to others he daily sung her praises.

Reynolds by degrees became reconciled to her reforms, and after watching the conflagration of a box of valuable feathers, doomed to destruction on account of the cruelty by which they were obtained, he decided that nothing which might happen in the future as to the conduct of the business would ever surprise him.

Away in Texas there is a little plant called the compass plant, and the Indians, even in the night, can tell by feeling its leaves the direction in which they are going. The top leaves, weighted by dew or dust, sometimes lose their power to point in the right direction, but the young leaves, standing edgewise to the earth, are always true, ever pointing north and south. To Reynolds Phebe was as a compass plant by which he learned to measure right and wrong, but, best of all, she pointed him to God. Of all this she was unconscious, and it was better so; but would she always point true? Would the world's dust ever cause her to lose that charm?

In spite of Reynolds' fears, all these reforms did not affect the business adversely; there were some losses, but the gains outnumbered them. A good many customers came out of curiosity, and gossip was pretty rife in the town, but all the information they got was that Mr. Waring had gone abroad with the idea of starting a business. Some even questioned Phebe herself and Mrs. Colston, but gained no further information.

No other letter had been received from Ralph, but Stephen Collins sent a note one day saying that the ship which Ralph had sailed in had safely arrived after a pleasant journey, and all were well on board. Phebe supposed Stephen had gathered this information from the newspapers, but asked no questions.

One day Reynolds startled his mistress by saying, "Don't you think we might begin to enlarge our borders?"

"What do you mean?—do you want us to take in a third shop?"

"No; but a long time ago master spoke of starting a village trade, and I don't see why we should not start it now." And then he went on to give the names of some villages which were quite growing localities through becoming small manufacturing centres, but where shops had not increased accordingly. By canvassing these and lonely farmhouses which lay between, he thought a good bit of business might be done.

"It could not be done without a horse and cart, and I could not afford to buy those just now," said Phebe, shaking her head.

"I have thought of that, but Higgins, the laundry people, have a horse and light van they use only three days a week; there's no doubt they would be willing to let us hire them."

"Perhaps so; the plan is worth thinking over; but what should I do here while you were away? I should be obliged to engage another assistant."

"Yes, you would; but I think you would find it pay."

Phebe promised she would give the subject serious consideration—"and we must both pray about it," she added. It took quite an effort to bring the words out, but she wanted in every possible way to show Reynolds that God was to be consulted in all business details.

The very next day Phebe had a visit from a young man seeking a situation. She liked his appearance very much, he had a frank expression on his face which touched her heart, and, besides that, she knew his mother very well and had a great respect for her.

"Have you a reference from your last situation?"

The young fellow's face darkened. "No, Mrs. Waring, I have not," he answered. "If I tell you all my trouble, will you promise not to tell my mother? It would break her heart if she knew all."

"I promise," she replied. "Come into the parlour, and tell me all," and the young fellow did so—how he had been tempted to speculate, how he had used some of his master's money, and had been found out before he had time to withdraw money from the Post Office Savings Bank to refund it. "I have paid it all now," he added, "but the master said I need never ask him for a character. If you will trust me, Mrs. Waring, I promise you I will serve you faithfully. You shall never regret having me. Oh, for my mother's sake, do give me a chance!"

"Just wait a minute," and then she went to consult Mrs. Colston, whom she had previously spoken to about Reynolds' suggestion.

"Is this God's answer, Nanna? Or would it be unwise to engage a young man who had made such a mistake? I feel strongly inclined to give him a chance, if even we did not start a village trade."

"I should take it as God's answer, dearie, you are to extend your trade. And, bless me, why shouldn't you give the young fellow a chance? God gives us plenty! But don't start him with a rope round his neck."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't show any mistrust, that is all." Afterwards she said to herself, "Reynolds would call that another 'whim' if he knew about it. She wouldn't have engaged that young fellow as quickly as this before her trouble came, not she; it's just wonderful how trouble softens the heart. It's only them that's received mercy which show mercy."

The young fellow's name was Jones—D. Jones—the "D." standing for David. Neighbour Bessie came in just afterwards on what she called her ginger-beer cork visits—a pop and go visit, and, of course, she was told of the new "hand" and the new scheme—but no hint as to the young man's past was given.

"D. Jones," she exclaimed, clapping her hands, "makes me think of an old man in America my aunt knew, who had once been a soldier; he was 'D. Jones,' but you'd never guess what the 'D.' stood for, that you never would, but it is what I shall call your Mr. Jones."

"Well, tell us what it was, Miss Smarty, or I'll shake you," said Nanna, trying to look fierce.

"It's what I wish somebody would call me; it was 'Darling Jones.' It's a fact; I'm not making it up. Isn't it lovely! Just fancy, if my name was 'Darling,' what a fix mother would be in! She couldn't scold me and call me 'Darling' at the same time, now could she? Wouldn't it be rich to hear her call out 'Darling, you are a wretched girl!' It would be scrumptious, just!"

"You're a naughty darling, that's what you are," said Mrs. Colston, solemnly shaking her head. "It's a pity you can't put all your fun and energy to some good purpose."

"Well, I shall always call your Jones 'Darling,' you see if I don't."

That same evening Reynolds was informed that the extension scheme was to be tried at once.

"And may I ask," in a very quiet voice, looking earnestly into Phebe's face, "what led you to this decision?"

"Yes, certainly. A young man came and asked me to give him employment. I had not advertised, nor spoken of the matter to any one but Mrs. Colston. I liked his manner very much. I took that as a guidance, and have engaged him. I am sending to-night to printers to have circulars prepared, and next week I will help you to get out samples. Perhaps you would not mind seeing Mr. Higgins for me."

"Well, well," said Reynolds to himself, "the idea that God had anything to do with that young man coming here. We shall hear of angels serving the customers next."