Life would have been gloomier still in the Ansell garret if Mrs.Simons had not been created to bless and sustain.

Even old garments somehow arrived from Mrs.Simons to eke out the corduroys and the print gowns which were the gift of the school.

There were few pleasanter events in the Ansell household than the falling ill of one of the children, for not only did this mean a supply of broth, port wine and other incredible luxuries from the Charity doctor (of which all could taste), but it brought in its train the assiduous attendance of Mrs.Simons.To see the kindly brown face bending over it with smiling eyes of jet, to feel the soft, cool hand pressed to its forehead, was worth a fever to a motherless infant.

Mrs.
Simons was a busy woman and a poor withal, and the Ansells were a reticent pack, not given to expressing either their love or their hunger to outsiders; so altogether the children did not see so much of Mrs.
Simons or her bounties as they would have liked.

Nevertheless, in a grave crisis she was always to be counted upon.
"I tell thee what, Meshe," said old Mrs.Ansell often, "that woman wants to marry thee.