Catharine Shaw

“ AFTER this Christina went home, and Ada gradually resumed her old ways, so far as they could be taken up without the one who had been the moving spring of the house. There were times when she felt the misery of being motherless was almost more than she could bear; times when everything went wrong; when the children were cross, and there was no one to settle the quarrels; when Nellie wished things done which she considered unreasonable; when Arthur was wretched, and she could offer no comfort; when Tom was suffering, and there was no one to appeal to about him. ”

“ Elliot, looking along the lane in a hopeless kind of way that made Nellie's heart ache.
Maude sprang up, and went to peep round a bend, to look for the others, and Nellie put her hand softly on Mrs. Elliot's. "I would rather trust Him!" she said gently, looking with full eyes into the careworn widow's face.
"I do not know, my dear; life has been a long struggle with me, and I have had but little joy, and now my best is gone, and I have nothing left but an empty chair and an empty heart." ”

“ Christina could only whisper that she had passed through the same anguish herself, and knew how it felt; and then she reminded her, too, of Him who sorrowed and wept with bereaved ones, and of what a tender heart He had.
"And think, dear Ada, of her joy now. Think of her redeemed spirit among the multitude whom no man can number. No more pain or anxiety or weariness, but with her Lord, rejoicing in serving Him with perfect service for ever." ”

“ Ada turned round sharply, and told Isabel—"It did not matter to her."
Isabel said, "It did; we were having a talk, and did not want to be interrupted."
"All right," said Ada, "I'll make myself scarce." With which sharp words, she hastened from the room.
"Isabel, dear!" said Nellie. "I wish you would not vex Ada."
"Well, Nellie; she is so hasty. I only made the remark that she did make a noise."
"Quite true," said Nellie; "but the truth is not always pleasant, and you are younger than she."
Nellie went into their room and sought Ada. "Here is a letter for you, Ada," she said. ”

“ Nellie went straight over to the baby, and took him on her lap, and then drew Dolly to her knee.
"You've been crying," said Dolly, looking anxiously in her face.
"Yes," answered Nellie quietly; "but I want to tell you all something. Come, Netta and Isabel, darlings, come close to me."
"Is mamma worse?" asked Isabel.
"No, dear children, she is better; she is gone to be with Jesus."
"Gone?" said Dolly, with such a wail that Nellie's calmness almost gave way.
"Yes," she said, steadying her voice again; "her spirit is gone to heaven to be with God. ”

“ Nellie looked at him enquiringly, and Tom said, though his lips quivered a little, "They are to remind me—Light Affliction now, Weight of Glory afterwards."
Nellie buried her head on his pillow, and clasped her arms round him. "Oh, Tom! Poor little Tom! Dear little Tom!"
And then he whispered tenderly, though with a sob in his voice—
"'These light afflictions, which are but for a moment, work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.' For, Nellie darling, the things that we see are but for a time, but the things we do not see are for ever." ”

“ It must be dreadful to have such a past to look back upon," said Christina.
"We have all plenty to regret," answered Ada, sighing.
"Heigho!" said Arthur, "I have only a week more holiday, I declare, and then I must grind, grind, again."
"Is 'walking the hospitals,' 'grinding'?" asked Cecil.
"I should say so," said Arthur, "just."
"It isn't my idea of it," said Cecil, and the elders laughed, while Arthur was not sure whether he was being made fun of; but Cecil looked so stolidly at him after his remark, that he concluded to let the matter drop.
"We shall all have to 'grind' soon," said Walter. ”

“ They all turned; for entering at the moment, with almost noiseless step, was Nellie's invalid aunt.
"I have just come to give you one kiss, darling, and to ask you how you have travelled, and how they all are at home?"
"Oh, very nicely, thank you, dear auntie! And I have had a very good journey. It is so sweet to be at dear Fairleigh again."
"You must be tired," answered her aunt, "and so our dear Hope will take you upstairs. Hope is quite like a grandchild here, and is a great comfort to us." ”

“ Ada and Arthur generally were full of plans for themselves, which would include her if she could spare time; but generally she went quietly homewards to fulfil her housekeeping duties; and when these were done, she would take her work or mending into the verandah which faced the sea, the low hedge of the little garden having nothing but a path to separate it from high water, and with a sound of the waves in her ears she would sit and think—not only think, but pray. ”

“ On the knees of the elder of the two lay an infant, and over it bent a fond, lovely face, not altered but improved by its motherliness.
By the side of the other, stood a little roundabout of two years old, gazing up in her face, as she told her a history of a brightly coloured picture.
Her mother glanced at the group with a sweet, tender look. "Kind Auntie Nellie," she observed.
"Tind auntie!" responded the little creature, patting Nellie's hand.
"How she gets on, Christina," said Auntie Nellie, looking up; "I never heard a child talk so plainly." ”

“ So Nellie gave a light spring, and found herself in a deep shady nook, with lovely ferns growing in the greatest profusion, broken stones lying scattered about, and that indescribable smell which belongs to verdant damp vegetation. The sound of trickling water added to the charm, and Nellie uttered an exclamation of delight.
"It is lovely, isn't it?" said Wilmot, looking up in her face. "It seems to quiet the soul, and lead one far away from the turmoil of life." ”

“ Ada looked incredulous, but yielded to her mother's wish, and drew nearer the table, where a shaded lamp was casting a bright and pleasant light.
"It is so much nicer to do as one likes," she said, drawing her shoulders together and shivering slightly.
"Yes, at the time," answered Mrs. Arundel, quietly.
"People always forget," continued Ada, "that they used to like such things when they were young."
Her mamma gave her an arch smile, and Ada continued—
"I don't mean you do exactly; but people want us to grow wise all at once; now don't they, mamma?"
"Yes, dear, I dare say we do. ”

“ She is most accomplished; and to watch her playing with the little children, and condescending to their pranks and fun, is quite amusing to me."
"I wish I could see her," said Aunt Ruth.
"She is one of the reliable people," said Nellie, "without being an atom stuck-up or stiff. The tenderest heart, but yet so firm and pure."
Aunt Ruth looked up in Nellie's glowing face. "You are a good little lover, Nellie," she said, smiling.
"It is quite true," answered Nellie, somewhat abashed, "and not at all because Walter thinks so. ”

“ Ada had turned her back and dropped her work in her lap, and now sat with her arms resting on the table and her face looking out into the square, of which, however, she saw nothing.
"Nellie dear, you must comfort papa. You must remind him that the time will be very short before we meet again. You must do all you can to cheer him. Not at first, dear—" She paused; then gathering breath again, "But after a while; not by forgetting, Nellie, but by remembering—remembering how happy we have been, and how soon we shall meet again. We have not tried to forget your own mother, have we, Nellie?" ”

“ Arundel tucked her up smoothed her hair, wiped away her tears, and turned to the dressing-table.
Ada jumped out of bed, and gave her the glycerine, and with one more kiss jumped in again, and buried her head far beneath the clothes.
If she fought a hard battle there with her anxious fears, there was One knew it; and if she came off victorious and at rest, there was One who proved Himself, as He has so often done before, "a refuge from the storm; a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall." ”

“ Nellie had now been at Shellford nearly a month, and sea breezes and country life had wonderfully improved her. She was no longer the pale London girl, but looked as fresh and rosy as any of them, while there was just that air about her of ease and polish which Maude secretly envied and tried to copy.
The girls both got out and went into the cottage to see after Mrs. Elliot and the "supplies," as Wilmot called them.
"Mamma," said Hope, "we must consider the hampers quite equal to the weight of one person. We have agreed that only two besides you shall ride at once." ”

“ Nellie at times well-nigh fainted under their difficulty. But when things seemed at the worst, words would come back to her, and the blessed Spirit would remind her: "When my heart was overwhelmed within me, then Thou knewest my path;" and the thought that God knew, and was ready to help, was sure consolation, and Nellie took courage again.
"There cannot be a need greater than He can supply, dear," her father said to her one day, when he found her mending a great heap of stockings, and looking lonely and desolate. ”

“ Don't look sad, darling. 'Neither will there be any more pain there.'"
"No, dear. 'The former things will be passed away;' but I wish—"
"Do not wish anything but what is sent me," he answered. "It is all love."
Nellie kissed his forehead, and turned away. "All love," she repeated to herself, as she went up to her room; "all love.
'All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth.'"
As she looked from her window over the sea, and thought of all these things, she saw Walter come in from his walk, with Netta and Isabel leaning on him on either side, full of life and spirits. ”

“ Tom laughed. "Perhaps not," he said.
Ada opened it again, and after some more fun produced sixpence. "It's my very last," she said, pretending to cry; "but I'll give it to my starving relatives."
"Oh, Ada, we don't want it!" exclaimed Dolly, looking sober. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Ada, smiling, "that you should get sixpennyworth of buns—halfpenny buns—and enjoy yourselves."
"Oh, jolly!" said Isabel. "You are kind, Ada."
"Sometimes," said Ada, rather grimly, thinking how little self-denial a sixpence was, compared to giving up one's wishes in some other things. ”

“ And I never knew it."
"My dear, we cannot always know what will happen; your father could not bear to make you unhappy unless it were needful."
"I would not have come away for worlds," said Nellie, weeping.
"That has made no real difference, darling. We might always be thinking of difficulties in the future; and you will be strengthened to help by your change."
"But do tell me," said Nellie, looking up with an anguish in her eyes which was sad to see, "do you think—does papa think—that mamma is in danger?"
"He says there always is danger in attacks of the heart." ”

“ The child turned and came close, putting her arm affectionately round little Eleanor.
"And so," said Nellie, continuing her story, "God gives us just what He sees the very best for us. See, that man is handing his little child a great heavy stone; and that one, in contrast, is giving his child a nice piece of bread."
"Yes," said Alice; "but I don't like that other father; he doesn't look kind."
"No; it is just to teach us the lesson how unkind we should think it in our father; and God is better than any earthly father." ”

“ Arundel came home from his afternoon rounds, before the carriage went to the stables, Ada was to be conveyed to Eaton Square.
She came out into the hall at the sound of her father's latch-key, and he kissed her fondly.
"It seems like sending you into the world alone, my dear," he said, as he placed her in the carriage. "It is not like just going to see our own friends."
Ada was pretty well accustomed to the lighted streets, and was much more busy with her own thoughts than with outside things. She almost started when the carriage drew up at her friend's door. ”

“ She threw herself on her knees, and buried her face in her hands. "He loves me," she whispered; "and I must not—must not—must not let him! Oh, what shall I do?"
Then she lifted her aching heart to Him who knew all its sorrow; and once more strengthened in her resolve, she got up, and bathing her swollen eyes, she went slowly downstairs again.
When she re-entered the dining-room, Wilmot came forward and met her, looking anxiously in her face.
"I have had a letter from Walter," she said, speaking calmly. "He sends me very unexpected news—very glad news—and that was what made me cry. ”

“ Nellie's eyes filled. How wonderful it was that, all the world over, the words of the blessed Book comforted those who sought its aid:
"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever."
"And you have good news from Walter?"
"Oh, yes!" said Nellie, brightening. "He is very well, and working hard, and longing to come home."
"It will be a great change for you all, if he settles in England."
"I think he will, Aunt Ruth. Christina does not like India very much; and then, again, Walter wants to be near papa. It seems hard that papa should lose his eldest son altogether." ”

“ Alone, yet not alone! And before he rejoined his children, he had cast his burden on the Lord, and, like Hannah of old, "his countenance was no more sad."
"Nellie," said Christina after tea, when they were all assembled in the drawing room, "I have lost one of my children!"
"She does not look very sad," said Arthur, "so I suppose it is all right."
"How?" asked Nellie, but she guessed it must be little Charlie.
"It is all very well for you to laugh," said Christina to Arthur; "but it was a great grief to me, as well as a great joy."
"Do let us hear about it," said Tom. ”

“ Mary burst into tears, and hugged the baby, while Nellie went for the work.
"You can think and talk of where dear mamma is, darlings, just the same," she said when she came back. "And all the better that you are carrying out one of her wishes, to see the basket filled."
The little girls looked up comforted, and she continued, "We cannot but be sad for many a long day, but we must all try to be busy in doing what she would wish us; must we not, darlings?"
"Can I have some work?" asked Dolly, "to help mamma's basket?"
"Yes; there is some just right for you; see." ”

“ Oh, if all were like Maggie, there would be no trouble. But sometimes Margaret fears whether she has will enough of her own."
"Oh, dear!" said Ada. "One has too much, and one too little. Why, Christina, I am always struggling because I have too much."
Christina smiled sympathizingly. "Yes, Ada; so it is."
"Now at home," pursued Ada, "I do dislike to give in to Nellie, dearly as I love her. She is so methodical, and nice, and wise; and I am 'harum-scarum,' and full of spirits, and when I am wild to do some outlandish thing, she advises me not—almost commands me—says mamma would not wish it ”