"You seem to be having a pleasant rest," he remarked in his usual calm way. "I hope you have got all your work done for me?" "I never do rest till my work is done," said the girl. "That is a very good plan. Will you prove the fact on the present occasion?" Rotha unwillingly left her place. "Mr. Digby, what sort of a chair is this?" "A spring chair." "It is a very good thing." "I am glad it meets your approbation." "It meets mother's too. Do you see how she rests in it?" "Does she rest?" asked the young man, rather of Mrs. Carpenter than of her daughter. "All the body can," she answered with a faint smile. "'Underneath are the everlasting arms'--" he said. But that word caused a sudden gush of tears on the sick woman's part; she hid her face; and Mr. Digby called off Rotha at once to her recitations. He kept her very busy at them for some time; Latin and arithmetic and grammar came under review; and then he proceeded to put a pen in her hand and give her a dictation lesson; criticised her handwriting, set her a copy, and fully engrossed Rotha's eyes and mind. CHAPTER VI. A LEGACY. "Mother," said Rotha, when their visiter was again gone and her copy was done and she had returned to her mother's side, "I never knew before to- day that Mr. Digby has handsome eyes." "How did you find it out to-day?" "I had a good look at them, and they looked at me so." "How?" "I don't know--as if they meant a good deal, and good. Don't you think he has handsome eyes, mother?" "I always knew that. He is a very fine-looking man altogether." "Is he? I suppose he is. Only he likes to have his own way." "I wonder if somebody else doesn't, that I know?" "That's the very thing, mother. If I didn't, I suppose I shouldn't care. But when Mr. Digby says anything, he always looks as if he expected it to be just so, and everybody to mind him." Mrs. Carpenter could not help laughing, albeit she was by no means in a laughing mood. Her laugh was followed by a sigh. "What makes you draw a long breath, mother?" "I wish you could govern that temper of yours, my child." "Why, mother? Haven't I as good a right to my own way as Mr. Digby, or anybody?" "Few people can have their own way in the world; and a woman least of all." "Why?" "She generally has to mind the will of somebody else." "But that isn't fair." "It is the way things are." "Mother, it may be the way with some people; but _I_ have got nobody to mind?" "Your mother?--" "O yes; but that isn't it. You are a woman. There is no man I must mind." "If you ever grow up and marry somebody, there will be." "I would _never_ marry anybody I had to mind!" said the girl energetically. "You are the very person that would do it," said the mother; putting her hand fondly upon Rotha's cheek. "My little daughter!--If only I knew that you were willing to obey the Lord Jesus Christ, I could be easy about you." "And aren't, you easy about me?"