A FRIEND IN NEED.
"God uses us to help each other so."
BROWNING.
MARGIE thought a good deal about her cousin's words as she ran back to
the lodge, and she could not help acknowledging the justice of them.
Her father certainly had more money to spend than when she was at home,
and it would undoubtedly be very pleasant to wear nice clothes and look
like a lady. But, as Charlotte had observed, she would never do it at
that rate. Even if she spent all her money upon herself, it would be
some years before she could be as well dressed as her cousin. But if
not—"Why, it's as bad as trying to walk through a brick wall," said
Margie to herself; "there's no road."
So she went home to her place in rather a disturbed state of mind,
between her desire to "get on" and her affection for her parents.
It happened that Lilla's day had not passed over quite satisfactorily
either. Mrs. Eden had been turning over some more of her drawers, and
Lilla, attracted by the curious patterns of the dresses—some of which
the old lady had worn in her girlhood—had been tempted away from her
studies. The consequence was that, when bed-time came, they were not
completed, and Lilla had to go upstairs feeling that her day's work was
unfinished.
Margie was just taking her candle into her room at the same time, and
Lilla, remembering something which she had rummaged out from amongst
her grandmother's curiosities, called to her.
"Look here, Margie," she said, "isn't this a funny little book?
Grandmother gave it me this afternoon. It is thirty years old."
"'Dewdrops,'" said Margie, taking it in her hand.
"Yes. It contains a text for every day in the year; something like Miss
St. Ives' birthday book. I wonder what to-day's is."
Margie gave it back to her, and having found the day of the month,
Lilla read out:—"'Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of
plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel;
but let it be the hidden man of the heart—even the ornament of a meek
and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.'"
"'Apparel,' Miss Lilla?" asked Margie.
"Fine clothes," explained Lilla. "It means, I suppose, that to be good
and kind is worth far more than to be finely dressed."
Margie went to bed thinking a good deal over these words, and when she
knelt to say her prayer, she added a little petition of her own, that
she might not envy her cousin's fine clothes, but be content with doing
what she knew to be right, whether it made her "great" or not.
Thus Lilla's text was the salt which prevented her pure young heart
from becoming corrupted by her cousin's advice.
Meanwhile, Lilla had glanced in at the verse for next day. It
was:—"'The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.'"
She did not understand the meaning of it then. But passing over it
to the next, she read:—"'Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His
righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.'"
"I am trying to do right," she said to herself, as she put it down, "so
I suppose I shall be great some day. I wish I could get along faster,
though!"
As time went on, Margie's troubles increased.
Tommy was no sooner able to run about again than her mother's health
broke down. And when Margie went home one Sunday afternoon, she found
her in bed.
"What to do I don't know," she said. "Doctor says I may have to lie
here some weeks, and, in the meantime, what is to become of the
children? I shouldn't like to take you away from your place, but I
can't see how it's to be helped."
Margie cried herself to sleep that night. But after breakfast next
morning, having risen earlier than usual, in order to give the room
an extra clean, she astonished Mrs. Eden by the intelligence that she
wanted to leave at once.
"How is that, Margie?" inquired the old lady, in rather a displeased
tone of voice. "And why have you not given me proper notice?"
"I'm very sorry, ma'am," replied Margie, looking down to hide her
tears. "Please don't be angry with me, but—"
"Aren't you comfortable?" asked Mrs. Eden. "Or isn't your mother
satisfied?"
"It isn't that, ma'am," replied Margie. "I don't want to go, for I'm so
fond of Miss Lilla, and you've been so good to Tommy; but—" And here
Margie, unable to hold out any longer, fairly broke down and hid her
face in her apron as she sobbed out: "Mother's ill in bed, and there's
no one to look after her."
Mrs. Eden saw at once how matters stood, and, finding upon further
inquiry that Mrs. Rust's illness was serious, promised that, as soon as
Margie had done what was absolutely necessary, she should go home.
Lilla came in just as Margie was carrying out her waiter, and,
perceiving her red eyes, inquired of her grandmother what was the
matter.
"Poor girl!" she exclaimed. "Shall we have to find another servant,
grandmother?"
"I suppose we shall," replied Mrs. Eden. "The cold weather is coming
on, and Mrs. Rust may be some weeks before she is able to spare Margie
again."
"I 'am' sorry," Lilla said, as she took down her books, ready for Miss
St. Ives.
Mrs. Eden sat still some time thinking. Then she rose, saying: "Yes,
I am sorry too. She has been a good girl, and it will give me some
trouble to train a fresh hand."
A sudden idea came into Lilla's head.
"Grandmother," she said, "need we send her away altogether?"
Mrs. Eden reflected. "I had been turning it over in my mind," she said.
"To be sure, I could have a woman to clear up in the afternoon, but who
is to get up and light the fire?"
"May I do it, grandmother?" asked Lilla.
"I am afraid you would soon tire of it," replied her grandmother, "and
have Miss St. Ives complaining about neglected lessons. Still, if you
are really desirous of trying, you may do so."
"And I can work a little harder to make up, grandmother. I'm afraid I
haven't been so industrious lately."
The fact was, Lilla had grown almost tired of making mere learning her
only aim. For she had a heart as well as a head, and there was another
kind of education—not to be acquired from books—without which she could
never be truly happy or great. But the idea of doing something to help
Margie inspired her with fresh energy.
Mrs. Eden had not been long absent when she returned for something she
had forgotten. During this time, Lilla had remained standing by the
book shelves, to all appearance intently studying the bindings of the
volumes, but in reality busily revolving a scheme which had suggested
itself to her. When her grandmother came in, however, she turned round.
"Grandmother," she said, "I have been thinking that if you employ a
charwoman every afternoon, it will cost you much more than you pay
Margie. Couldn't I take her place entirely till she comes back, and let
her carry home her money the same as usual. I am sure they will want it
more than ever."
Mrs. Eden hesitated at first, but, finding that Lilla was in earnest,
at length gave her consent to the arrangement.
Margie's gratitude knew no bounds. She cried and thanked Lilla over and
over again.
But Lilla said, simply: "I know how I should feel if grandmother were
ill, and I'm sure I shall be much happier for doing it."
Lilla was right. Though, it must be confessed, it was cold work on the
raw December morning, and her fingers looked red and swollen on the
keys of the piano when Miss St. Ives gave her her lesson. But Miss St.
Ives thought none the worse of her for that, having been told by Mrs.
Eden the secret of her unselfishness.
And had Lilla but known it, by this action of self-sacrificing love
towards one who, in the eyes of this world, was her inferior, she was
daily growing more and more like Him of whom it was written, that He
"increased in wisdom and stature, and 'in favour with God and man.'"
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