STELLA BECOMES BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE
DOCTOR'S FAMILY
IN a few weeks Stella began to feel really at home in the doctor's
household. She grew accustomed to the plain but comfortable
furniture, and became very fond of her aunt and uncle, and two girl
cousins. But she failed to get on with the twins. The boys, romping,
mischievous little fellows, soon found that Stella could not bear
to be teased, and they consequently devised many ways of provoking
her. They laughed at her methodical ways, pulled her hair, hid behind
doors and startled her by springing suddenly upon her.
They discovered that she was afraid of animals, doubtless because she
had never been accustomed to them as pets. Hector, the big black
retriever, made her shriek with alarm when he came prancing towards
her, on the first day she had gone for a walk with her cousins, and
she had fled to Miss Clarke's side in dire distress, whilst the twins
had stood by in fits of laughter, heedless of their governess's
reproving looks. It was long before Stella grew accustomed to Hector,
or was brought to understand that he was only playful and not savage.
Another time Stella had run away from half-a-dozen harmless cows, and
in her fright had fallen on the kerbstone and received a black eye.
Mr. Gray, Dr. Knight's assistant, had come to the rescue, and had
carried her into the surgery fainting more from fright than from the
injury she had received. On this occasion the twins had not taunted
her with her cowardice as she had anticipated, having been sent about
their business by the kind-hearted young assistant, who was looked
upon ever afterwards as Stella's especial friend and protector.
Stella got on capitally with Dora. Dora admired her cousin, and being
two years her junior was rather impressed by her superior abilities.
Stella never tired of telling Dora about London, and the grand people
her mother had known, their fine dresses, and beautiful homes. All
this seemed very wonderful to the little country girl, and when one
day Stella turned out the contents of her boxes, and exhibited all
her gay frocks, Dora's admiration knew no bounds.
"Oh, Stella," she cried, "how nice to be rich! Oh, how I wish I had
a lot of money!"
"I'll give you some when I'm grown up, Dora. Do you know that I shall
be very rich some day? I shall really. And then, Dora, I'll give you
some money."
"Oh, thank you, Stella, that will be kind of you. I shall buy some
nice presents for mother."
"What?" asked Stella curiously.
"Oh! lots of things. To begin with, she shall have a new set
of furniture for her room, and a new carpet."
"But, Dora, why doesn't your father get those things for her? Mother
had everything the very best about the house."
"Yes, I daresay; your mother was rich, I know. Father is not well off
at all."
"That's a pity. Mother had everything she wanted. If she thought
she'd like anything, she used to go and buy it at once, and yet she
was as cross as two sticks. The servants hated her."
"Oh, Stella!"
"Well, they did—that is, all except Sarah. Poor Sarah! You should
have heard how mother used to scold her, and she never used to answer
back. Sarah was sorry when mother died; she cried dreadfully.
Mrs. Mudford was always saying she wondered Sarah put up with the
place, because she was for ever hard at work stitching about mother's
gowns, and never had any thanks. I miss Sarah. She used to come and
talk with me after I was in bed, and tell me not to be afraid, but to
remember Jesus was there. We used to have such nice talks. I was
afraid of the dark, because one of my nurses had frightened me."
"How?" Dora inquired, much interested.
"Oh, about ghosts! Such nonsense! It seems silly, doesn't it? But I
believed her because I was so young, you know, and there was no one
to tell me it wasn't true. She used to tell me the ghosts would carry
me off if I cried, or was naughty, and I quite thought it was true.
I have been in bed shaking with fright for hours sometimes, expecting
something awful to happen."
"Oh, Stella, how dreadful! Didn't your mother know?"
"No, I suppose not—of course not, she was always out somewhere
evenings. Then I grew too big for a nurse, and mother sent me to a
day-school, and Sarah came to do the sewing. I remember Sarah finding
me crying in bed one night, and asking me what was amiss. I told her,
and then she said if I trusted in Jesus He would not let any harm
come to me. Ever afterwards when I was very frightened I used to
repeat a verse out of the Bible that Sarah told me, and then I used
to feel that Jesus was with me."
"What was the verse?" Dora asked.
"'I will trust and not be afraid.'"
"Stella," said her cousin in an awed whisper, "didn't your mother
teach you about Jesus?"
"No, she hadn't time, or perhaps she didn't think—" Stella looked
red, and distressed. "Mother was not religious," she explained;
"she used to go to church, of course, but—oh, I don't know how it
was, but she didn't care to talk about God, she said it made her
melancholy."
"Well, our mother is not melancholy, and she often talks about God."
"Oh, yes, I know! But your mother's different. I thought, when I
heard she was an invalid, she would be a sad sort of person, always
grumbling and cross; but she is much brighter than most people."
That evening Stella knocked at her aunt's door and inquired if she
was alone.
"Yes, Stella, quite alone, and I shall be delighted if you will bear
me company for a while. Come in, and let us have a chat."
The child crept softly to Mrs. Knight's side, and asked how she was
feeling.
"Pretty well, my dear. I have had a bad headache, but it is better."
"You are sure I shall not worry you, aunt?" anxiously.
"Quite sure, Stella. You are such a quiet little mouse, the very
sound of your voice is soothing."
Stella looked gratified, and pressed her aunt's hand affectionately.
"I cannot think how you can be so patient," she said, "for I know you
suffer a great deal sometimes. Uncle told me so. I wish I could help
you."
"Thank you, my dear. All the love and sympathy I get from my dear
ones is a great help to me. And then, you know, I have God's help
too."
"Yes. But don't you want very much to get well?"
"Dear child, do you think if it were good for me to get well God
would permit me to lie here? 'They that seek the Lord shall not want
any good thing.'"
"I cannot understand," with a deep sigh and a puzzled expression.
"No, we cannot understand, but we can believe. 'We walk by faith,
not by sight,' Saint Paul tells us. That is the first lesson God's
children have to learn, little Stella. You know He told His
disciples, 'What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know
hereafter.' That is what we must have faith to believe."
"It is very difficult!"
"No, not really. You believe my husband would do his best for the
good of our children, do you not?"
"Oh, yes, of course!"
"Why of course, little one?"
"Because he loves them, aunt."
"And for that reason, because He loves us, our Heavenly Father gives
us, His children, what is good for us. If you can believe in the love
of God you can trust your life to Him, and pray the perfect prayer,
'Thy will be done.'"
"'Thy way, not mine, O Lord,
However dark it be;
Lead me by Thine own Hand,
Choose out the path for me.'"
There was a short impressive silence after Mrs. Knight had ceased
speaking, broken at length by Stella.
"I want to ask you something very particular, please, aunt—at least
I want you to ask uncle for something for me."
"What is that something?" with an encouraging smile.
"Money. I want some money."
"Have you not everything you require?" in accents of surprise.
"Oh, yes! I have plenty of pocket-money for myself; it is for some
one else."
"You are going to make a present? Will you not tell me about it?"
"Will you promise not to tell any one except uncle?" Stella asked
cautiously.
"Yes, I will promise that!"
"Well, I want some money for Dora," and Stella repeated the
conversation she had had with her cousin that morning.
Mrs. Knight listened in silence, but when Stella had finished her
tale she drew the child towards her, and kissed her affectionately.
"How kind of you!" she exclaimed. "But, my dear little girl, you must
not give any of your money to Dora. Indeed, my husband would not
allow it; you must put such a thought out of your mind altogether.
Your uncle is your guardian and the guardian of your money; only a
certain amount will be spent for you every year, and the rest will
accumulate till you are of age. When you are twenty-one you will be
able to do as you like."
"When I am twenty-one! Not for eleven years!"
"Not for eleven years," Mrs. Knight answered, smiling.
"Dora would so like some money. There are so many things she wants
to buy."
"What things?—Never mind if you would rather not say. I daresay it is
a secret."
Stella looked very crestfallen and disappointed. She glanced around
the somewhat shabby room, and sighed; then the shadow passed from her
face, and she smiled brightly.
"Never mind!" she cried. "I don't suppose you would be happier in a
grand room with new furniture, would you? I think Sarah must have
been right, for she said it did not matter if one was rich or poor
so long as one's heart was in the right place!"
"What did she mean?" Mrs. Knight asked.
"I think she meant nothing mattered so long as people loved each
other. Aunt Mary, I do love you."
"I hope you will love us all, Stella."
"Yes, but I don't know about the twins!"