Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
But this evening other thoughts had driven this important business quite
out of poor Ellen's mind. Now, however, when her eyes fell upon the
little kettle, she recollected her mother had not had her tea, and must
want it very much; and silently slipping off the sofa she set about
getting it as usual. There was no doubt this time whether the kettle
boiled or no; it had been hissing for an hour and more, calling as loud
as it could to somebody to come and make the tea. So Ellen made it, and
then began the toast. But she began to think too, as she watched it, how
few more times she would be able to do so--how soon her pleasant
tea-makings would be over--and the desolate feeling of separation began
to come upon her before the time. These thoughts were too much for poor
Ellen; the thick tears gathered so fast she could not see what she was
doing; and she had no more than just turned the slice of bread on the
fork when the sickness of heart quite overcame her; she could not go on.
Toast and fork and all dropped from her hand into the ashes; and rushing
to her mother's side, who was now lying down again, and throwing herself
upon her, she burst into another fit of sorrow; not so violent as the
former, but with a touch of hopelessness in it which went yet more to
her mother's heart. Passion in the first said, "I cannot;" despair now
seemed to say, "I must."
But Mrs. Montgomery was too exhausted to either share or soothe Ellen's
agitation. She lay in suffering silence; till after some time she said
faintly, "Ellen, my love, I cannot bear this much longer."
Ellen was immediately brought to herself by these words. She arose,
sorry and ashamed that she should have given occasion for them; and
tenderly kissing her mother, assured her most sincerely and resolutely
that she would not do so again. In a few minutes she was calm enough to
finish making the tea, and having toasted another piece of bread, she
brought it to her mother. Mrs. Montgomery swallowed a cup of tea, but no
toast could be eaten that night.
Both remained silent and quiet awhile after this, till the clock struck
ten. "You had better go to bed, my daughter," said Mrs. Montgomery.
"I will, mamma."
"Do you think you can read me a little before you go?"
"Yes, indeed, mamma;" and Ellen brought the book: "where shall I read?"
"The twenty-third psalm."
Ellen began it, and went through it steadily and slowly, though her
voice quavered a little.
"'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
"'He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the
still waters.
"'He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for
His name's sake.
"'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear
no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.
"'Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou
anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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