The secret of OaklandsKelly, M. Harding (Minnie Harding)
General
The secret of Oaklands
Kelly, M. Harding (Minnie Harding)
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Governesses -- Juvenile fiction
The words acted like a tonic. A vision of the coming years of
loneliness and difficulty had dismayed her, and yet here--surely work
for the King of kings lay all around; the greater the difficulty, the
more insistent the call. For a moment her head sank upon her hands,
and her heart was lifted up to Him Who ever waits to pour out a
sufficient supply of strength to His people, to meet every need.
Margaret Woodford believed this, and for that day at least she laid
her burden straight at her Saviour's feet, and rose calm and
determined to face the future bravely, and do the work nearest, to
which she had been called.
Meanwhile Ellice, a storm of passion raging in her heart, rushed into
the woods, pushing the tangled branches fiercely apart until she came
to the fairy glade, a moss-grown path where the trees parted in a
glorious avenue and the sunlight stole through in shafts of golden
light, and fell tenderly upon the child. She flung herself down
under a venerable oak, the trunk of which, cleft by some old-world
storm, formed a hiding-place where she had often before sheltered on
rainy mornings, and whispered her secrets to the woods.
Short, gasping sobs almost choked her as she lay upon the ground.
The squirrels scampered in the branches overhead and, clinging to the
rugged trunk of the great Forest King, crept down to the foot and
peeped shyly at her, waiting wonderingly for her call, and the food
she so often temptingly offered them. Her sobbing breaths of
distress presently ceased, she raised a tear-stained face, and
brushed away the tell-tale signs of distress. A hard, sullen
expression swept all the beauty from her countenance; she looked what
her brother would have said, "real ugly," as she pursed up her lips
and stared aimlessly at the beauty around her.
The horrid pangs of hunger would make themselves felt, and she wished
now she had not come away in such a hurry; even an egg would have
been preferable to this hunger. If she could be certain of not
meeting that hateful governess, she would steal back to the house.
She had almost made up her mind to make the attempt, when she was
startled by a footstep in the glade, and a voice calling her by name.
She set her teeth hard, and drew back further into the shelter of the
oak.
Miss Woodford, who was evidently bent on searching for her charge,
receiving no answer to her calls, presently sat down upon the mossy
ground at the foot of the very tree where Ellice was hidden. Opening
a basket of sandwiches and jam-puffs, she commenced her lunch, while
the child, all unknown to her, kept watch, struggling with her pride
as she saw the tempting viands gradually disappearing before her eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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