Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: THE NEW DRESS HAD A LARGE INK STAIN ON IT.]
HIDDEN SEED:
OR
A YEAR IN A GIRL'S LIFE.
BY
EMMA LESLIE
Author of "Gytha's Message;" "Glacia the Greek Slave;"
"Tom Watkin's Mistake;" &c.
_ILLUSTRATED._
[Illustration: Lucem Libris Disseminamus.]
LONDON
BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
GLASGOW AND DUBLIN
CONTENTS.
————
CHAP.
I. A RESOLUTION
II. THE INVITATION
III. THE INKED DRESS
IV. THE SOWER AND THE SEED
V. THE MUSICAL PARTY
VI. A NEW TROUBLE
VII. EXPLANATIONS
VIII. CONCLUSION
[Illustration]
HIDDEN SEED:
OR, A YEAR IN A GIRL'S LIFE.
——————
CHAPTER I.
A RESOLUTION.
"I AM fifteen to-day—fifteen," and the speaker rose from her seat
near the table and walked to the window that opened upon a pleasant
old-fashioned garden. "Mr. Rose said on Sunday that we ought early to
form a plan for our life work, and I have formed mine—I mean to be a
missionary to the heathen."
At this point she was interrupted by a knock at the door, and the next
minute the housemaid appeared.
"If you please, Miss Mabel, your mamma wishes you to begin your music
practice now."
"Oh, very well, I'm coming, Ann," said the young lady petulantly. But
she turned to the window again and went on talking to herself. "How
very tiresome it is of mamma to want me to keep on with these lessons!
I am almost a woman now, and of what use will music and German be to me
by and by? I don't mean to live a frivolous fashionable life. I mean to
be of some use in the world, and I must tell mamma to-day that I have
promised to help Mrs. Rose with the work among the poor."
But now there came another interruption, and her sister Mary, a lively
girl about twelve years old, bounced into the room, without the
ceremony of knocking at the door.
"Now, Mary, go out; this is my room. You know mamma gave it to me to be
my own, and you are only to come in when you are invited."
"Humph!" exclaimed Mary, standing still and surveying the whole. "I
should call it a den, or an old curiosity shop, or a lumber-room."
In truth, the furniture had, for the most part, been rescued from the
lumber-room, and either repaired or their defects cleverly hidden with
chintz draperies. Many a happy hour had Mabel and her mother spent
in making this little garden-room, as it was called, habitable and
pleasant—a place where Mabel could prepare her lessons, free from the
distraction of the children or the interruption of callers. This had
been Mrs. Randolph's object in giving her elder daughter a room to
herself on her fifteenth birthday. But while Mabel tacitly agreed to
this, she was thinking that the time for lessons was almost over, and
the garden-room would be a place where she could shut herself up and
follow her own devices, apart from the rest of the family.
"Now, Mary, do go!" exclaimed Mabel, who was determined to put a stop
to these incursions from her sister.
"But mamma sent me," retorted Mary, inquisitively lifting the cover
of a cosy-looking chair. "I thought so," she added the next minute,
"mamma's old rocking-chair."
"Now, Mary, will you go?" repeated Mabel.
"But mamma sent me to fetch you to practise."
"I told Ann I was coming, and that was sufficient," replied Mabel
haughtily. And she walked towards the door, but took care that Mary
should go out first.
"Mamma, I do think you might let me have an hour to myself in my own
room and on my birthday, too," exclaimed Mabel in an aggrieved tone,
as she entered the dining-room where Mrs. Randolph was sitting busy at
work.
"My dear Mabel, do you know the time? It is a quarter to twelve, and
you have been undisturbed in your room since breakfast-time. Have you
finished that German exercise, dear?" she added.
"No, mamma. I have been thinking it is mere waste of time for me to go
on learning German. I don't mean to be a frivolous, fashionable young
lady."
"I hope not, indeed, Mabel," said her mother quietly.
"Then what is the use of my spending so much time over the music now? I
can play pretty well, and that is enough, I think."
"But your father is fond of music, dear, and is particularly anxious
that you and Mary should both be good German scholars. It may be useful
to you by and by, he thinks."
"Not to me, mamma," said Mabel decidedly. "If it was Chinese, or some
other heathen language, it might be. For I have quite made up my mind
to be a missionary."
Mrs. Randolph smiled.
"My dear, the question of your being a missionary can be left for the
present, I think. The duty lying nearest to us is the one God asks us
to perform, and—"
"Yes, mamma, I have been thinking of that too," said Mabel impetuously.
"I have been thinking it all over this morning sitting in my dear
little room. And as I have promised Mrs. Rose to help her in her work
among the poor in that new district near the church, I might as well
begin at once with the work that is nearest."
"But, my dear, is that work the nearest?" asked her mother seriously.
"What! Having a tract district, and teaching a Sunday-school class,
and helping at the Dorcas meeting close to my own home? Surely, mamma,
that work lies nearest, and will be a good preparation for a missionary
life?"
"But what of the duties at home? I have been thinking, Mabel, that,
now you are fifteen, you might take some share in the housekeeping.
You might go to cook for an hour's instruction every morning. It is
not every one I could trust you to learn under, but cook is an old and
faithful servant, and could teach you as well as I could."
But Mabel did not look at all pleased at this proposal.
"What with kitchen work and German, I should not have a minute to
myself," she said. "Oh, mamma, I really do want to serve God now!" she
said earnestly, her eyes filling with tears.
"My dear, you seem to think that everyday duties lie altogether outside
the service of God. But it is in the spirit in which these are done,
much more than in the quantity of other work, that the service of God
consists. But, of course, if you have promised to help Mrs. Rose you
must do so, only do not undertake too much."
At this point Mrs. Randolph was called away, and Mabel went to practise
her much-despised music lesson. She got through it as quickly as she
could, and then, without waiting to see her mother again, hurried out
to keep her appointment with Mrs. Rose.
The minister's wife had too often to deplore the unwillingness of young
ladies to employ their leisure in any useful occupation, not to receive
with readiness Mabel's proffered help. And so before she returned home,
she had engaged to take a junior class in the Sunday-school, visit a
poor district and distribute tracts, and work for the Dorcas society,
although it was with the greatest difficulty her mother could induce
her to help with the needlework at home. In truth, Mrs. Randolph
did not look very pleased when she heard how much her daughter had
undertaken, but she only said quietly:
"My dear Mabel, I hope you will remember that your father wishes you to
continue your lessons for the present."
"I shall not forget, mamma. You shall not have to complain that I
neglect my home duties," said Mabel stiffly.
In spite of what her mother had said in the morning, she expected her
news would have been received with the warmest approval, and she was
hurt and disappointed that her mother looked so coldly upon her scheme
of usefulness. She retired to her own room feeling very much ill-used,
and talked to herself about home persecution until she was summoned to
tea.
After tea, a few friends came to spend the evening with her. But
altogether it was a disappointing birthday, and she had looked forward
to it with so much eagerness. For she had determined that it should
be the beginning of a new life to her, and here she was thwarted and
hindered at the very outset, just where she expected to receive the
most help, too.
These were Mabel's thoughts when she awoke the next morning, but she
resolved to persevere. She would not be disheartened by the first
difficulty. She would commence her district work that very day. And
when her mother saw that she was thoroughly in earnest, she would no
longer disapprove of her plans.
Mabel had her own views about district visiting, as she had about
most other things, and after breakfast, instead of going to her own
sitting-room, she turned out an old dress from her wardrobe that had
not seen the light of day for nearly a year. It was a gray that had not
worn well as to colour, for it was faded to a yellow in some places and
a dull green in others. But Mabel had decided the previous day that
this was just the dress for visiting among the poor. And although she
looked rather rueful at its creased and tumbled appearance, she would
not give it up. An old jacket of another colour, and her garden hat,
completed her costume. And Mabel thought, with pride, that no one could
accuse her of a love of finery, or that she taught her poor people to
dress above their station.
Armed with a bundle of tracts and a note-book, Mabel set forth. And
nurse, catching a glimpse of her at the back as she left the door,
thought the laundress had sent a message about the washing.
"It was not Miss Mabel I saw," she remarked when the housemaid told her
that no message had come from the laundress, but that Miss Mabel had
gone out.
At dinner-time, however, Mr. Randolph asked rather sharply where Mabel
had gone to in that masquerade dress, for he had caught a glimpse of
her going through the town, and it annoyed him exceedingly.
"It will set everybody talking about us, and discussing our affairs,
and I begged you to do nothing that could bring our name before the
public," he said to his wife in a tone of anger.
He was worried and anxious about business matters, or he would not have
spoken so irritably, or have fancied that such a trifle could awaken
people's attention to their concerns.
Mabel, too, came in cross and out of humour. The people in Fisher's
Rents had not overwhelmed her with gratitude, and some had even
refused to look at her tracts. And so when her father scolded her for
disgracing him by walking through the town like a beggar girl, she felt
she was greatly ill-used and misunderstood.
Poor Mabel! She was to be pitied, for she had done it all with the best
of motives, and had only received angry looks and hard words for her
pains. Her mother sympathized with her in spite of the vexation she
felt, and after dinner said a few comforting words to her, at the same
time pointing out that she must not wear the obnoxious dress again, and
that she was afraid she had undertaken too much work for her strength.
"Go and rest in your own room for half an hour, and then come and
practise the duet with Mary," said Mrs. Randolph as she left her.
And Mabel went to her room to recall again the vexatious events of the
morning, until she was summoned by Mary to take her place at the piano.
"It really is very tiresome that mamma should fix upon this duet," she
said in a complaining tone. But recalling her promise and resolution
that none of her home duties should be neglected, she went with her
sister without further grumbling.
But as the weeks went on, she forgot her promise about these home
duties, shut herself up more and more in her own room, or went out to
visit her district, but never had time to help the children with their
lessons, sew on a button, or mend a glove when she was asked. Her
temper too had not improved. She had grown sharp and querulous under
the strain, and at last she began to see this herself, and had resolved
to alter it.
She woke up one morning with the full determination of being less
snappish to everybody, and went to the nursery to warm her hands before
going down-stairs full of amiable feelings.
But unfortunately the nursery fire had not burned up, and Mabel made
some remark about this.
Turning sharply round, nurse said, "Don't come here finding fault, Miss
Mabel. If you worry your poor mamma to death, you shall not worry me,
so please leave the nursery."
"I shall not leave the nursery. What do you mean, nurse, by saying I
worry mamma?" she angrily demanded.
"Because I see my poor mistress fretted and worried and ill for want of
a little help that you could and ought to give her. And yet you go out
day after day seeking your own pleasure, when you ought to be at home."
"I am not seeking my own pleasure, nurse. You know that, and mamma
knows it too," retorted Mabel.
"I don't know. You go to please yourself. I know that for I heard your
mamma ask you yesterday to stay and help Miss Mary with her music, but
you would persist in going out."
"I was obliged to go," she said. But she would not condescend to make
any further explanations, but walked angrily down-stairs.
"Mamma, what do you mean by saying I worry you to death?" she said as
she entered the breakfast-room.
Her father had come in behind her, just in time to hear the question.
And without giving Mrs. Randolph time to reply, he ordered Mabel to
leave the room for speaking to her mother in such a disrespectful
manner.
In truth Mabel was heartily ashamed of herself the moment the words
were spoken, and she burst into tears and went to her room crying
bitterly.
"Was there ever such a miserable girl!" she sobbed, sitting down at the
table and coveting her face with her hands.
In a few minutes, her breakfast was brought by the housemaid, but Mabel
did not want any this morning. She pushed the tray aside as soon as the
servant had gone, and once more buried her face in her hands.
"What am I to do?" she sobbed. "I do want to serve God, and make sure
that I am a Christian indeed, and not in name only. I am sure I am in
earnest, and yet nothing but trouble seems to follow what I do. And
then the work is not so pleasant as I expected to find it. The girls in
my Sunday class are often tiresome and disobedient, and people take my
tracts as though they did not care whether they had them or not. And
I never did like needlework, so that the sewing class and the Dorcas
garments I bring home to finish are often a real trouble to me. I think
I shall have to give it all up."
And then Mabel lifted her head, and the fragrance of the coffee proved
too strong a temptation to be resisted any longer, and to her own
vexation she found that she could eat her breakfast after all.
——————