LILLA AWAKENS MARGIE'S AMBITION.
"Poor and uncared for,
Toiling not learning,
What can I do
That will earn me renown?
Living and loving,
No useful work spurning,
Faithful to death
Thou shalt win thee a crown."—ANON.
MRS. EDEN had arranged with Margie's mother that the former should come
on the first day of the next week.
"That will give you time to get her things ready," she said.
But there were grave difficulties in the shape of Margie's outfit. Mrs.
Rust was poor, and with such a large family to provide for she could
not afford the necessary outlay all at once. She promised to do her
best, however, and there the matter rested.
But on the way home, Mrs. Eden proposed a plan which Lilla caught at
eagerly. This was, that the very next morning they should go into the
village and buy enough print to make Margie a dress.
"If I stitch the seams up in my machine, we can soon finish it between
us," Mrs. Eden said. "And it will make her look tidy at once, besides
being an inducement to her to be a good girl."
Lilla lay awake a good while that night thinking about the change which
was to take place in their household arrangements, and in consequence
did not rouse next morning until her grandmother called her. By
making extraordinary haste, she was down in time to help dust and set
breakfast. But there was no chance for her French vocabulary, and
almost immediately after breakfast they started for the linendraper's.
Some lessons could be learnt whilst the print was being cut out, but
Lilla's thoughts were so much distracted that she had hard work to
concentrate them on her book. And when she went to bed that night, she
could not help questioning whether the manner in which the day had been
spent had tended much towards the attainment of her ambition.
"But Margie wants the dress," she said to herself. "After all, Dorcas
made clothes for poor people, and I couldn't help sleeping late."
And then "the thing that lies the nearest" came into her head again,
and she said, half aloud:
"It certainly was 'the nearest,' though how I am ever to grow great at
this rate, I can't see. Oh! Dear—" And Lilla extinguished her light and
soon forgot all about it in sleep.
But when Sunday night came round, matters were no better. A whole week
had passed since the forming of her resolution, and no progress seemed
to have been made. To be sure, Margie's dress was completed, and Lilla
had tried it on and laughed to see how loosely it fitted her. For Mrs.
Eden had made ample allowance for the maid's sturdier build. But that
was nothing towards being great, and fewer lessons than ever had been
done.
"I confess I can't understand it," she said to herself, as she laid her
head upon the pillow. "I don't believe I can have found the right road,
or I should get along faster. But when our servant comes, I shall have
nothing to do but study, and I am to have masters soon."
Monday evening brought Margie, with a bundle of clothes and a small box
containing her Sunday hat, and some caps and white aprons to wait in.
It was curious to watch the awkward advances the two girls made to
each other; Margie afraid of presuming upon her young mistress's good
nature, and Lilla shy from the bare fact that Margie was a stranger.
By degrees, however, this strangeness wore off. And at the end of
the first week, they were on very good terms. Mrs. Eden, on her
side, expressed great satisfaction with her new maid's activity and
teachableness, and things seemed going on very smoothly.
Lilla found now that she had time for her books before breakfast, and
as April brought mild weather, she was often up and at work for an
hour, as well as having time to attend to her flower-garden. To her
great delight, her grandmother appeared very pleased with the rapid
progress she was making, and began to talk seriously of procuring
further instruction for her next term.
"For you will really be beyond me soon, Lilla, if you go on at this
rate," she said.
One great source of wonder to Lilla was the strength of Margie's arms.
She would often watch her as she rubbed and swept and scrubbed and
carried with untiring energy, and then, looking down at her own slender
white arms, feel almost ashamed to remember how quickly they used to
tire when she "played" at being servant.
At last one Saturday morning she could be silent no longer. Margie had
been giving the grate an extra clean, and still was on her knees before
it, brushing away with all her might to put on the final polish.
She looked up as Lilla entered, and paused for a moment to shake back
her hair, which was curly and apt to get rather untidy when she was at
work.
[Illustration: SHE LOOKED UP AS LILLA ENTERED.]
"Isn't that very hard work, Margie?" Lilla asked.
"Not very," answered Margie, giving her hair another toss, and
then—finding it refused to obey—a push with her hand, which left a
droll smear across her forehead.
"I should soon get tired of it," said Lilla.
"I'm used to work," returned Margie. "I expect I'm a good deal stronger
than you are. I know what 'I' should get tired of, though—those books.
Sit, sit, sitting, all day long, and every day in the week. I shouldn't
mind the piano so much."
"But I want to get on," said Lilla. "You know, Margie, I mean to be
great when I am grown up." And she hurried off with her books.
But that night when Lilla went to bed, she happened to remember
Margie's words. And as it was Saturday night, she had plenty of time
for conning them over, for Mrs. Eden never encouraged her in working
late at her lessons on Saturdays.
"God gave us the Sabbath," she would say, "in order that we might
refresh our bodies, as well as our souls, and make them strong for
another week's work. And if we overtire ourselves before it comes, we
lose half the benefit of it—which is next to breaking it."
Lilla put down her candle and went to the window. The sky was cloudy,
and there were no stars, but the moon was up, and kept appearing
between the rifts, casting a pale light over the plantation, and then
vanishing again.
"I don't expect I 'am' so strong as Margie," she said to herself, as
she watched it, "and certainly I am not so clever at housework. Then, I
suppose, 'I cannot be so great in that respect.'"
This was a new thought, for it had never occurred to Lilla before that
"greatness" could have anything to do with such things as physical
health or bodily strength, or, in fact, anything but head-work.
"To be sure," she continued, after a few moments' reflection, "I make
up for it in learning, for she doesn't know a word of French. But,
then, I don't see how I can be 'really' great if one part of me is
inferior. Still, I'm doing the best I can, and grandmother is certainly
very pleased with my progress, so I must persevere. Only I must try to
grow strong too."
So Lilla took to watering her flowers more vigorously, and running
upstairs two steps at a time. She rummaged out a pair of dumb-bells,
and used them, too, for ten minutes every day, to expand her chest.
Meanwhile, Margie, on her side, had not forgotten Lilla's words: "I
mean to be great when I am grown up."
"It wouldn't be much use 'my' trying!" she said to herself. "Scrubbing
and cleaning never made anyone great yet. But I should rather like to
be something worth growing up for."
Thus, unknown to each other, mistress and maid were trying to reach the
same end. But, as neither had yet learnt what true greatness really
was, neither had found the road.
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[Illustration]