When Hatty went to bed, on the evening of her return, she found Meg fast
asleep, and apparently as much at home as if she had always had a right
to talk of "our room," instead of being one of the children in the
nursery.
Hatty looked at the little brown face lying on the pillow, and the long
dark lashes hiding the mischievous eyes, and she felt that she loved her
little sister dearly, and would be willing to be put to a great deal of
inconvenience to be of service to her. When Hatty knelt that night in
the quiet closet her mother had given up to her use, she did not forget
to pray that she might be patient and gentle with Meg, and so win her
confidence as to be able to lead her to the Saviour, who loves to call
the little ones His own.
Hatty's short reading in the Bible that evening was about the
crucifixion of our Saviour, and as she prepared to lie down, she
wondered how he could have borne such suffering without one murmur.
Hatty had a perfect horror of pain. Her skin was thin and delicate, and
even the grasp of a rough hand on her arm was sure to leave a bruise.
Her usually pleasant face was clouded over by a scratch or a pin-prick,
and her tears often fell fast for a wound that many children would have
met with a smile. Hatty was naturally very sensitive to pain, and that
was not her fault; but she had never yet begun to try to bear it
patiently, as a part of her christian duty. As she lay down that night,
she resolved to be more patient under, little trials, and to make light
of little pains.
Hatty's new resolution was soon put to the test. She had hardly put her
head on the pillow, before she became conscious that her couch was
anything but a bed of roses.
Meg had consoled herself for going to sleep in a strange room by
herself, by munching hard crackers until that pleasure was lost in the
new joy of the dreams of childhood. The bed was strewn with the crumbs,
and through her thin night-dress Hatty could feel them in all
directions. After brushing them this way and that way, Hatty jumped out
of bed with an angry bound, and proceeded to light the candle and
rectify the mischief in a systematic manner.
"The troublesome little thing!" exclaimed Hatty, as she saw a half-eaten
cracker lying in Meg's loosened grasp. "She ought to be punished for
it!"
At that moment Hatty thought of her resolution to be patient under
trifling discomforts, and a feeling of mortification came over her. Very
quietly she brushed away the offending crumbs, gently she removed the
half-eaten cracker, and then she knelt to ask forgiveness for this new
exhibition of her hasty temper, ere she again lay down to rest.
Hatty was soon in a sweet sleep; but shortly after midnight she was
awakened by a feeling very much as if a broom-handle were thrust against
her, while at the same time Meg exclaimed, "Do move, Hatty, you crowd
so. I wish you would'nt come on my side of the bed."
Meg was a thin bony little creature, and the children all dreaded a
punch with her sharp elbows almost as much as one of her scientific
pinches.
Hatty's tender side actually ached, but she made an effort to say,
gently, "Meg, you must be dreaming; wake up!"
"I am not asleep at all!" said Meg, pettishly. "I wish you would move!"
Hatty passed her hand along the seam of the sheet (Mrs. Lee used her
old-fashioned sheets on the children's beds) to assure herself that she
was on her own side of the bed, and then she was going to tell Meg that
it was _she_ who was out of place; but something checked her, and she
only said, pleasantly, "Never mind, Meg, where the middle of the bed
is,--you shall have all the room you want;" and making way for her little
friend with the sharp elbows, Hatty composed herself again to sleep,
with a far happier feeling than if she had contended for her rights.
Once she was going to say, "O Meg, it hurts me still where you punched
me," but she checked the words, and thought how trifling was such a pain
compared with the nails in the hands of our great example, who has bid
us follow him in his patience, as well as in perfect purity.
Hatty's long ride from her grandmother's, a distance of sixteen miles,
and the excitement of her return home, made her sleep very soundly, when
not disturbed, and she would gladly have continued her nap until the
rousing bell gave forth its summons.
Meg was something like the uneasy birds who twitter at midnight on their
perches, and wake at dawn to sing, as if they never knew the need of
rest.
By the first grey streak of morning she began to stir, and was soon wide
awake and full of glee at finding herself in her new quarters.
Hatty turned her back resolutely, but in vain. Meg was not to be so
easily disposed of. Hatty was going to say some hasty words to Meg, as
she twitched away from her, when Meg pleaded, "Do wake up, sister Hatty.
It is Sunday morning."
"Sunday morning!" that thought brought Hatty to herself--and making an
effort to throw off her sleepiness, she turned towards Meg, and said,
"Well, then, give me a nice kiss to begin the day."
Meg gave the kiss with real good will, and then, nestling up close to
Hatty, she began to talk as if her tongue needed violent exercise to
make up for being quiet all night.
Before many minutes were over, Hatty had set that little tongue at
Sunday work, repeating all the hymns and Bible verses that Meg had
learned during the three months that Hatty had been away from home.
Meg was full of eager questions about her hymns and her verses, and
Hatty had an opportunity of giving the little one some sweet lessons
about the loving Saviour and what He wishes in His lambs, that she would
have lost if she had given way to her selfish wish for a longer nap.
We do not know, when we give way to our own whims, instead of being
unselfish, what opportunities of usefulness we may be losing. If we do
one duty well, some higher and more important duty generally follows
close upon it.
Hatty took a pleasure in making Meg look particularly nice that Sunday
morning, and she was well pleased when her mother smilingly remarked at
breakfast that Meg showed very plainly that she had fallen into good
hands. "Hatty needs a little attention, herself," added Mrs. Lee, and
she glanced at the irregular white line which separated the two heavy
masses of waving red hair on each side of Hatty's head.
Hatty would rather have gone without her breakfast than had her hair
parted. Hatty was apt to fret about being hurt all the while the
operation was going on, and Mrs. Lee actually dreaded to propose what,
if borne cheerfully, would have been but the work of a moment. Happily
for Hatty at that instant her thoughts were called in a different
direction by Marcus' sudden question--
"Where is Aunt Barbara this morning?"
Even the question showed some interest in the old lady; and Mrs. Lee
hailed it as an indication of a better state of feeling in her son.
"Aunt Barbara is not very well this morning; she did not get up as early
as usual," said Mrs. Lee.
"Shan't I go up to see if I can do anything for her?" said Hatty,
eagerly.
"She will be down soon, I think; but you may go," said the mother,
pleasantly.
Hatty ran up stairs, and knocked very gently on Aunt Barbara's door.
"Who is it? What do you want?" answered Aunt Barbara's voice from
within.
"It is Hatty. Can I do anything for you?" said the little girl.
"No!" was at first the decided answer; then followed a sudden call
"Stop, stop, child. Come in a moment."
Hatty stepped in, but felt like drawing back as Aunt Barbara stood
there, half dressed, with her grey hair uncovered, and her thin,
shrivelled arms bare.
"Don't stare as if you were frightened," said Aunt Barbara, quickly.
"Old people are not generally very beautiful to look at!"
"Can I do anything for you?" said Hatty, pleasantly.
"Yes, if you want to. I can't find my pocket. Perhaps you can see it."
Aunt Barbara wore a pocket tied on under her dress with a string, and
she had been for some moments looking for it, as she was ready to put it
on.
Hatty glanced round the room, and was delighted when she saw a piece of
white Marseilles peeping out from under the tumbled bed-clothes. She
sprang towards it, and handed the pocket to the old lady, who took it
without a word, and went on dressing herself.
Hatty began to pick up the things about the room, and to throw open the
bed; for she knew Aunt Barbara would not think of going down to
breakfast until the room was a little in order.
Aunt Barbara did not seem to notice her; but when she had tied the
strings to her close-quilted muslin cap, and pinned a broad black ribbon
round it, she said: "Come, now, child, its not worth while your
breakfast should get cold while you are waiting on me."
Hatty's face brightened, and she said, eagerly: "I should be glad to do
anything for you, Aunt Barbara."
"You may have more chance than you want, if I feel like this many
mornings," said Aunt Barbara, very sharply.
Aunt Barbara was not very pleasant at breakfast that morning. Nothing
seemed cooked to suit her. The fact was, the poor old lady was not well,
and had no appetite, and that made everything seem out of the way to
her.
Hatty could not help noticing how pleasantly her mother took Aunt
Barbara's comments on the breakfast, that would have put many
housekeepers out of patience. When nothing on the table seemed to suit
Aunt Barbara, Mrs. Lee quietly sent out for a bit of ham to be boiled;
and when it came in, she seemed pleased that the old lady ate a few
mouthfuls,--complaining at first that it was done a trifle too much, and
in the end making way with it all.
Mr. Lee did not seem to notice that Aunt Barbara was not well,--at least
he did not ask about her health; and Hatty thought at first it was not
quite right in her father, and she wondered that he should do anything
so unlike himself. By-and-by she noticed that all the topics he brought
up were such as were likely to interest Aunt Barbara. He spoke of
meeting an old minister who used to live near her own home, and told how
cheerfully he talked of his long, active life, and of the happy time
when he should meet his Master in heaven. Then he brought up the new
orphan asylum, which was always sure to enlist Aunt Barbara's
attention; and at last she seemed to forget her pains, while listening
to his account of the meeting on the subject he had attended the evening
before.
Hatty felt pleased as she saw the shadow passing from the old lady's
face, and she glanced across for Marcus to sympathize in her
satisfaction. He did not see her, but Hatty noticed that he placed a
comfortable chair, after breakfast, near the window where Aunt Barbara
best loved to sit, and drew a footstool up to it.
Marcus did not think that anybody observed him, but two hearts were made
glad by this little effort of kindness. Mrs. Lee and Hatty both saw that
Marcus' feelings towards Aunt Barbara had undergone a happy change.
Marcus' feelings had been touched, but feelings are a poor dependence
for doing right, without principle.
Hatty was delighted at the idea of going to church once more in her dear
native town. She felt that it would be a new and better thing to be
there, now that she could count herself among those who were glad at the
thought, "God is in His holy temple." Hatty began, in her impatience, to
make her preparations in very good season. She had laid out on her bed
all the things she expected to wear, when her mother called her to come
into the nursery.
Hatty went promptly as far as the door, but she moved across the floor
more slowly when she saw that her mother had a comb and brush in her
hand.
"I hope we shall have no trouble about the hair, this morning. It needs
parting, sadly," said Mrs. Lee, in her gentle way.
Hatty's mind was made up at that moment; her mother might pull as hard
as was necessary, _she_ would not say a word if it hurt her ever so
much.
Mrs. Lee used the comb very carefully, yet it was disagreeable, almost
painful to Hatty's delicate skin. She shut her mouth tight, however, and
thought of her resolution to bear little hurts pleasantly, and actually
got through without a murmur.
When the hair was brushed smoothly, Hatty's face looked very sweet from
the effort she had made to do right, and she well deserved the
affectionate kiss her mother pressed on her lips.
"Perhaps I could help Aunt Barbara get ready for church," said Hatty,
one right action leading to another.
"Aunt Barbara is not well enough to go, to-day. I am very sorry, on my
own account as well as on hers. It is Communion day, and I had hoped to
go to church, for the first time in many weeks."
"But cannot you go, Mother?" said Hatty, earnestly.
"No, my dear," said Mrs. Lee, quietly. "I do not like to leave Aunt
Barbara with no one to wait upon her. I promised Betsy, yesterday, that
she should go out this morning, and Jane will be busy with the baby and
Harry."
Hatty was silent for a moment; a struggle was going on in her mind. At
length she looked up with a beautiful, bright expression on her face,
and said, "I will stay with Aunt Barbara, if you could trust her with
me. I do not want you to be kept at home."
Mrs. Lee knew the effort it must have cost her little girl to give up
the pleasure for which she had been so eagerly preparing, but she did
not refuse her kind offer.
"Thank you, my darling; I shall feel quite easy leaving Aunt Barbara
with you. 'I was sick and ye visited me,' our Saviour says, and then
adds, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye
have done it unto me.' That thought makes taking care of the sick doubly
pleasant. And now, darling, instead of putting on your own things, which
are all laid out so nicely, you will have to help me to get ready."
Hatty was glad to be kept very busy that she might not have a moment to
regret her choice, and she made herself so actively useful, that Mrs.
Lee was not at all too late in joining the group waiting for her in the
hall below.
"Why! are you not going, Hatty?" exclaimed Marcus, as his sister
appeared at her mother's side.
"Hatty is going to stay with Aunt Barbara. She may need some attention,
and I did not like to leave her alone," said Mrs. Lee.
Marcus looked up in surprise. He knew with what eagerness Hatty had
spoken in the morning of being at church, and could not but wonder at
the sudden change,--she looked so cheerful. One glance at the sweet,
bright expression of her face, convinced him of the generous motive that
had kept her at home. Marcus began to think there was some strength in
Hatty's new resolution to do right.