Eleanora H. Stooke

“ The little girl grew red, and hesitated. "Please, Mr. Moseley, what is it to be superficial?" she asked, by-and-by. "Is it something one ought not to be?"
"To be superficial is to be all on the surface—shallow," he replied. "But why do you ask that?"
"Aunt Lizzie says I'm superficial," Mavis explained. "I heard her tell Uncle John so. But he said no, I was not. Indeed, I was not trying to listen," she proceeded quickly. "I was coming downstairs, and they were in the hall. I didn't know they were talking about me. Then it's nothing very bad if one is superficial, Mr. Moseley?" ”

“ You won't forget to thank God for His goodness in sparing your mother's precious life, will you, Rosie?"
"No, indeed, father," she responded, earnestly. "We prayed—Bob, and Mavis, and I—that God would make dear mother well again, and you see He is going to do it. I felt so—so helpless and despairing, and there was only God who could do anything, and so—and so—"
"And so you were driven to Him for help and consolation? Ah, that's the way with many folks! They forget Him when things go smooth, but they're glad to turn to Him when their path in life is rough. But His love never fails. ”

“ Rose replied. "There, I believe you've made her cry," she said, turning upon her brother with indignation, as Mavis slipped quietly out of the room. "I saw tears in her eyes. You are very selfish, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bob. If father makes much of Mavis, it's only because he wants her to be happy with us. It's so sad that her mother should have had to go away and leave her." ”

“ I think I must go and see Miss Dawson to-day, and ascertain if her father has decided by which vessel she is to travel. Would you like to accompany me—to Camden Square, I mean, where the Dawsons live?"
"Indeed I should, mother," Mavis answered.
"I have told Miss Dawson about you, and she expressed a desire to see you. I think she will like to talk to you, Mavis, and you must try not to be shy with her, for she is little more than a child herself. She is exceedingly low-spirited at the prospect of leaving her father, to whom she is most devotedly attached." ”

“ Grey's departure from the Mill House, Mavis accompanied Rose to school. Their way led past the church and the vicarage, and through the village. And as they went, Mavis looked about her with interested eyes, admiring the picturesque creeper-covered cottages with their trim gardens and thatched roofs.
"They seem to sell everything here," she remarked, with an amused smile, as she paused before the one shop of the place, which was also the post-office, "groceries, brushes, notepaper, and medicines too, I declare!" ”

“ She found her aunt in the parlour, engaged in darning stockings, and immediately informed her that there was a poor starving man outside.
"Do give him some food, please, Aunt Lizzie, and let him warm himself by the kitchen fire," she said, pleadingly. "He wants to see Uncle John, to ask him if he can give him work. Mayn't he come in and wait? I have sent him around to the back door."
"Really, Mavis, you take too much upon yourself!" cried her aunt, irascibly. "I never encourage tramps; the workhouse is always open to them. I must send this man off at once." ”

“ The lilac and laburnum trees were in full bloom in the Mill House garden. And fritillaries—snakes' heads, as some people call them—were plentiful in the meadows surrounding W—, lifting their purple and white speckled heads above the buttercups and daisies in the fresh-springing green grass.
"I think they are such funny flowers," said Mavis, who with Rose, had been for a walk by the towpath towards Oxford, along which they were now returning. ”

“ They died many years ago; but their lives might have been saved, if they could have had a long sea voyage and a few months' sojourn in a warmer climate. However, that was not to be."
"They did not go?"
"No. Their father was a poor man, with no rich friends to help him, and so—they died."
"Oh, how very sad!" exclaimed Mavis, with quick comprehension. "A trip to Australia and back costs a lot of money, I know. Oh, Mr. Moseley, how dreadful to see any one die for want of money, when some people have so much! How hard it must be! ”

“ How grateful he will be to your mother, Mavis, if she brings him back her patient restored to health!"
"Mother will take good care of her," Mavis responded. "She's a capital nurse, every one who knows her says that; but only God can make Miss Dawson well."
"That's so," agreed Jane, with a nod, as she returned to her stove. "I don't believe that child ever forgets that God's above all," she remarked, as Mavis left the kitchen to look for Bob, to impart her news to him. "It's to be hoped she'll always remember it." ”

“ I am really better, and I believe God is going to allow me to get well. Often I have been very low-spirited and sad since we left England, but when I have thought of the Good Shepherd, of whom you sang to me so sweetly, I have felt better. 'The Lord is only my support,' dear Mavis, and I am learning to trust in Him more and more. Your mother is so good to me, so patient, so kind; we have become great friends."
"I have written to my father asking him to send you a present from London for me; you may expect to get it a few days before Christmas. ”

“ Mavis replied, returning her smile.
She went out into the kitchen-garden, where she found her aunt hanging various garments on the clothes lines, which extended the whole length of the garden.
"Do let me help you, Aunt Lizzie," she said. "Isn't there something I can do?"
"You might spread these handkerchiefs on the hedge to bleach, they're Bob's. See what a dreadful colour they are, and no wonder, for I caught him dusting his boots with one of them and cleaning his slate with another! Boys make no end of work." ”

“ Rose continued, in the same aggrieved tone. "She never complains of me, and I don't consider mother ought to have scolded me, just because I'm not so sharp as other girls. She doesn't worry Bob about his lessons like she does me. Bob's her favourite, and he can do nothing amiss. I declare I won't try to learn any more, for mother's sure to find fault with me, anyway! It's most unjust."
"I don't suppose Aunt Lizzie understands how hard you try to learn," Mavis said, putting her arms around Rose and kissing her flushed cheek. ”

“ So were you, Bob, for that matter."
"Bob is three years your junior, Rose," said her mother. "At your age, you ought not to be shy. Why could you not talk to the Vicar as well as Mavis?"
Rose hung her head and made no response, whilst her cousin felt very uncomfortable. Mavis was fully conscious, by this time, that her aunt did not approve of her, that she regarded her with critical eyes, and that she was always displeased if any one noticed her more than her cousins. And these facts prevented her from being as happy as she otherwise would have been at the Mill House. ”

“ Having lifted Mavis from the gig, he helped his sister-in-law to alight, and then, addressing her by her Christian name—Margaret—he commenced a round of introductions.
"Margaret, let me introduce you to my wife—Lizzie. Lizzie, this is poor Rupert's wife, and here's his little girl, who's his living image. Rose and Bob, come here and speak to your aunt and cousin. Yes, that's right, Rose, kiss Mavis and make her welcome."
"And here's Jane! You've heard of Jane, haven't you, Margaret? Yes, I thought Rupert must have spoken of her to you; he and Jane were always good friends. ”

“ Mavis had also told her aunt, how greatly Rose was troubled on account of her slowness in learning, and how really painstaking she was, and this, coupled with Miss Matthews' report that Rose was patient and industrious and always desirous of doing her best, caused Mrs. John to reflect that she had been a little hard on her daughter.
"Although she's not quick like her cousin, she has many good qualities," she thought to herself. "God does not endow us all with gifts alike, and I have been unwise to make comparisons between the children." ”

“ We will not linger over the moments of farewell when the mother and daughter clung to each other in grief too deep for words. The last good-bye kisses were exchanged, and Mrs. Grey took her place in the gig by her brother-in-law's side, whilst Mavis, between her aunt and Jane, stood outside the wicket-gate, struggling to keep calm. ”

“ Mr. Grey admitted, "but I didn't say a word about it, for fear you should be disappointed. Mr. Dawson is evidently in high spirits, judging from the tone of his letter. And I don't believe your mother would raise his hopes about his daughter, if she had not good cause for doing so. The change of climate may really set up the poor young lady's health, after all, and I sincerely hope God may spare her life. Her father has my sympathy. I know how grieved I should feel if I had to send my little girl away from me, especially if she was ill."
And Mr. Grey smiled affectionately at Rose as he spoke. ”

“ On subsequent occasions, the little girl had held conversations with her, but Mrs. John did not know that.
"She has been very kind to me, Aunt Lizzie," Mavis answered.
"Oh, I don't mean that she's done anything for me, you know," she continued, as she met her aunt's glance of surprise, "but she's spoken to me so nicely about mother that I quite love her. She says she knows what it is to be separated from some one, one loves very dearly, for her only daughter married and went to New Zealand, and her husband's dead, so that now she's all alone. ”

“ So that it had been with awe as well as with surprise, that Mavis had observed her shedding tears over the letter she had been writing.
"As a matter of fact, we've very little money left," Mrs. Grey admitted, at length. "But I'm not troubled about that now, for I have been asked and have engaged to nurse a rich young lady who is threatened with consumption, and—and it is likely to be a long engagement."
"Oh, mother! You said you felt sure God would provide for us, and you were right. Who is the young lady? Does she live near here? Will you be away at night? How shall you manage?" ”

“ Dawson had earnestly requested Mrs. Grey to remain with his daughter till Christmas, and she had consented to do so. And she expressed her sentiments to her aunt in the following words—
"I'm glad, and I'm sorry, Aunt Lizzie. Glad, because I can't bear the thought of saying good-bye to you all, and sorry, because I do want mother so much sometimes. Still, London's quite near; it isn't as though mother was at the other end of the world, and time passes so quickly. Christmas will soon be here."
* * * * *
"I feel as though I must be dreaming," said Mavis, "but I suppose it's really, really true. ”

“ Jane inquired, as she crossed the hall and joined her mistress.
"The gig is not in sight yet," replied Mrs. Grey—or Mrs. John Grey, as we must call her, to distinguish her from Mavis' mother. In fact, she was generally known as Mrs. John.
"The children are outside the gate; they are as excited as they usually are when we expect any one. I wonder what our visitors will be like. I don't think Mrs. Grey can have much heart, or she wouldn't have accepted this engagement to go to Australia. I know I could not endure to be parted from my children—and she has only one child. ”

“ I'm on the look-out for work—have been for weeks—but it's very scarce. I'm not a beggar from choice. I've been hanging around the mill in hopes of seeing the miller, thinking that he might give me a job. They told me in the village that he wanted a man to drive a waggon."
"I believe he does," said Mavis. "But he's not at home this afternoon. I live at the Mill House; Mr. Grey's my uncle. Go round to the back door, I'm sure my aunt will give you something to eat." ”

“ There are hundreds and hundreds of people in London without homes. Mother knew a great many poor people, and it used to make her so sad when she couldn't help them. Often they'd come and tell her their troubles, because, you see, being poor herself, she could understand better than if she had been rich," Mavis explained, with a wisdom beyond her years. ”

“ Mr. Grey had kindly driven them into Oxford, one afternoon, to make their various purchases, and but a shilling or so remained of Mavis' pound, the rest having been spent in presents which were hidden in the bottom of her trunk in her bedroom, to be kept secret from every one but Rose, until Christmas Day. For kind Miss Tompkins she had bought a pink silk handkerchief sachet with birds painted on it, and this, with a carefully-written note, she had packed in readiness to send off that evening.
"I wonder what mother is doing in the kitchen," remarked Rose, presently. ”

“ Rose brushed away an angry tear, and choked back a sob. "Let us talk of something else," she said. "You've been writing to Aunt Margaret, haven't you?"
"Yes. Aunt Lizzie said I might enclose a letter with one she has written. I wonder how long this rainy weather will last, Rosie."
"Father thinks we shall have a change soon, for the wind is getting more northerly; it's been due west for weeks. If we get frost now the floods are out, we shall have fine skating; you will like that, Mavis?"
"I can't skate," Mavis answered. "I never tried." ”