Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Let these words be my memorial, that I have trusted in Thee. And oh,
when these miserable lips are silent for ever, remember the word unto
Thy servant, upon which Thou hast caused me to hope; and be unto my
little one all Thou hast been to me. Unto Thee lift I up mine eyes, O
Thou? that dwellest in the heavens."
She raised her face from the book, closed it, and gave it silently to
Ellen. Ellen had noticed her action, but had no suspicion of the cause;
she supposed that one of her mother's frequent feelings of weakness or
sickness had made her lean her head upon the Bible, and she thought no
more about it. However, Ellen felt that she wanted no more of her boxes
that day. She took her old place by the side of her mother's sofa, with
her head upon her mother's hand, and an expression of quiet sorrow in
her face that it had not worn for several days.
CHAPTER V
My child is yet a stranger in the world.
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years.
--SHAKESPEARE.
The next day would not do for the intended shopping; nor the next. The
third day was fine, though cool and windy.
"Do you think you can venture out to-day, mamma?" said Ellen.
"I am afraid not. I do not feel quite equal to it; and the wind is a
great deal too high for me, besides."
"Well," said Ellen, in a tone of one who is making up her mind to
something, "we shall have a fine day by-and-by, I suppose, if we wait
long enough; we had to wait a great while for our first shopping day. I
wish such another would come round."
"But the misfortune is," said her mother, "that we cannot afford to
wait. November will soon be here, and your clothes may be suddenly
wanted before they are ready, if we do not bestir ourselves. And Miss
Rice is coming in a few days; I ought to have the merino ready for her."
"What will you do, mamma?"
"I do not know, indeed, Ellen; I am greatly at a loss."
"Couldn't papa get the stuffs for you, mamma?"
"No, he's too busy; and besides, he knows nothing at all about shopping
for me; he would be sure to bring me exactly what I do not want. I tried
that once."
"Well, what will you do, mamma? Is there nobody else you could ask to
get the things for you? Mrs. Foster would do it, mamma."
"I know she would, and I should ask her without any difficulty, but she
is confined to her room with a cold. I see nothing for it but to be
patient and let things take their course, though if a favourable
opportunity should offer you would have to go, clothes or no clothes; it
would not do to lose the chance of a good escort."
And Mrs. Montgomery's face showed that this possibility, of Ellen's
going unprovided, gave her some uneasiness. Ellen observed it.
"Never mind me, dearest mother; don't be in the least worried about my
clothes. You don't know how little I think of them or care for them.
It's no matter at all whether I have them or not."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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