SUFFERING FOR CONSCIENCE SAKE.
MISS MANSFIELD was quite willing that Ellen should go with Mary to the
Bible-class. During the time the latter had been in her employ, she had
worked so steadily and faithfully that Miss Mansfield felt the utmost
confidence in her, and had no fear of her leading Ellen into mischief.
Accordingly, the next Sunday afternoon, Mary called for Ellen, and the
two set off together for the school at which the class was held. It
took them about twenty minutes to reach it, and as the afternoon was
bright, Ellen thoroughly enjoyed the walk thither. She felt rather shy
and awkward as she entered the class-room, where about a dozen girls
were seated, awaiting the arrival of their teacher. But they greeted
the new-comer kindly, and she soon felt at ease with them.
Presently Miss Graham, their teacher, came in, and Ellen felt drawn to
her directly she looked at her pleasant face, with its sweet smile and
soft, loving blue eyes. She gave Ellen a kind welcome to the class,
and expressed the hope that she would be willing and able to attend
regularly.
"Have you not a Bible?" Miss Graham asked, seeing that Ellen was about
to look over with Mary.
"No, ma'am, I have not one of my own," replied Ellen, colouring as she
spoke.
"Then I will give you one, so that you may not say that any longer,"
said Miss Graham pleasantly, opening a drawer in the table at which she
was seated, and taking from it a neat little black Bible, in which she
proceeded to write Ellen's name.
Ellen was very pleased to receive this gift, and longed to show it to
Jerry, whose admiration, she knew, it would be sure to call forth.
She was interested in the lesson that followed, and went away at the
close of the class, carrying her Bible in her hand, resolved to read
it frequently, that she might become able to answer Miss Graham's
questions as readily as Mary and some other of the girls had done.
Every Sunday for the next few weeks, she went with Mary to the class,
although Julia laughed at her for doing so. She used to write Jerry
many a letter containing an account of the lessons Miss Graham had
given at the class.
These letters were eagerly read by the poor sick lad, and the passages
of Scripture to which reference was made, examined. He was somewhat
better than he had been when Ellen left home. The attacks of pain were
less frequent, and his spirits bright and hopeful. His faith in the
Lord Jesus, though simple and childlike, was strong, and he often spoke
confidently of the time, which he believed would soon come, when the
Lord would make him whole.
His letters to his sister—curious documents, written in a large,
sprawling hand—contained many allusions to this hope. And from the
cheering accounts of his improved health, which she received, not from
himself alone, but also from her mother, Ellen was encouraged to hope
that it might not prove deceptive.
One of the truths impressed upon her mind by Miss Graham's instruction,
was the value and importance of prayer. And every day she prayed
fervently that her little brother might be restored to health.
She had yet to learn her own need of spiritual health, and the
preciousness of Christ as a Saviour from sin.
As winter approached, Miss Mansfield was overwhelmed with work, and
stitch as fast as they might, she and her assistants were scarcely
able to get it all done. It would have been well, if Miss Mansfield
had had the good sense to refrain from undertaking more than it was in
her power to accomplish. But she never liked to refuse work, and would
frequently promise to execute an order by a given time when she knew it
was quite impossible for her to do so.
She did not spare herself, but worked the hardest of all. Her needle
was seldom laid aside till after midnight, yet she was often plying it
again before daylight. She suffered from such excessive application,
and became so impatient and irritable, that Ellen was quite afraid to
address her. The least mistake was sure to be most severely censured.
"It's of no use making a fuss about it," exclaimed Miss Mansfield, one
Saturday evening, when the girls were bending over their work with
pale, weary faces, for it was past their usual hour of dismissal.
"These dresses must be got out of hand. You will have to come for a
couple of hours to-morrow, Mary, and help me finish them off."
Mary looked up in astonishment, not unmixed with fear. She grew red for
a moment, but the colour quickly faded from her face, leaving it paler
than before.
"Come to-morrow, Miss Mansfield?" she repeated questioningly, as if she
doubted the hearing of her ears.
"Yes, to-morrow; do I not speak plainly enough?" replied Miss
Mansfield, with impatience.
"I cannot come on Sunday, Miss Mansfield," said Mary firmly, though her
voice betrayed agitation.
"And why not, pray?" asked her employer, sharply.
"Because I think it would be wrong to do such work on the Lord's day,"
answered Mary.
"Do you think I should ask you to do it, if it were wrong?" returned
the dressmaker, angrily. "But I suppose I don't know what is right. You
are one of those Pharisees who set themselves up for being better than
everybody else. Of course, it is wrong to work upon Sundays as a rule,
but this is a case of necessity. And I only want you to come for two
hours in the morning. You'd be able to go to your Bible-class in the
afternoon, and to church in the evening. What harm could there be in
that, just for once?"
"I am very sorry, ma'am," replied Mary, "but I can't think it would be
right to do so."
"You'd better say you would rather not oblige me. That would be nearer
the truth, I expect," returned Miss Mansfield. "But I won't put up with
such hypocritical ways. If you don't choose to help me to-morrow, you
need not trouble yourself to come here again."
"Oh, pray do not say that!" exclaimed Mary, imploringly.
"I do say it, and I mean it too," retorted Miss Mansfield, who had
worked herself up into a passion. "So now you understand, and can act
accordingly. If you don't come to-morrow, you shan't come on Monday.
Now which will you do?"
"Indeed, ma'am, I can't come to-morrow," replied Mary, in great
distress. "I will work extra hours next week, or do anything I can to
oblige you, but I cannot sew on Sunday."
"Very well, then, that is enough," said Miss Mansfield, white with
anger. "Now you may put on your things and go home. And remember, I do
not wish to see you here again, unless you think better of your refusal
to comply with my wishes. Here is your week's wages."
Mary's tears fell fast as she prepared to obey this unkind command.
With trembling hands, she slowly put on her bonnet and shawl, and
turned to take her leave. She paused for a moment at the door, and cast
a beseeching glance of distress at her stern employer.
[Illustration: DISMISSED!]
But Miss Mansfield had taken up her work, and was apparently stitching
away too earnestly to be conscious of her appealing look.
"Good-night, ma'am," said Mary, in a broken voice.
Miss Mansfield's needle suddenly snapped in two, and she uttered an
impatient exclamation, but took no notice of Mary's words. And, sorely
troubled, the poor girl went slowly downstairs and out of the house.