Part 17 (1/2)
At length they halted before a small house that appeared strangely familiar to Lottie, and Joel rapped on the door. What was her surprise and delight to see the door opened by Flora Hazeley.
”Lottie!” the latter exclaimed.
”Flora!”
Joel stood by, smilingly, while Lottie was introduced to the rest of the family.
”It seems so strange that both your brother and mine should be returned runaways, doesn't it, Flora?” remarked Lottie, when all were seated.
”How about Lottie?” slyly whispered Joel, as he sat by her side.
Lottie deigned no reply, but tossed her head willfully, while she thought: ”No, I will never go back to Aunt Emmeline's.”
It was a very pleasant little home party that sat and chatted in the old dining room that evening, but it was not until Lottie and Flora were alone in the room which they were to share for the night, that Lottie opened her heart, and poured out her woes into Flora's sympathetic ear.
”Oh, Lottie, how could you?” asked Flora, when the recital was over.
”Oh, Flora, of course I could do it, and so would you have done, in my place,” returned Lottie, in an injured tone.
”Is it possible that you have left your poor, sick aunt all alone?”
”She isn't very sick; she only thinks she is,” said Lottie, sulkily.
”She can get about her room well enough. It won't hurt her to go a bit farther, and go downstairs.”
Flora, after a few more ineffectual words, saw Lottie was feeling too bitter and hurt to be ashamed of her desertion of her poor, sick aunt, and, with her customary tact, dropped the subject entirely. For a few moments there was silence, each busy with her own thoughts.
As Flora was brus.h.i.+ng her hair, of which she was justly proud, she said:
”Lottie, let us sit here in front of the fire. I often do, and watch the sparks as they flit here and there. I feel like talking to-night. I have listened to your story. Now, you come here with me; I want to tell you mine.”
Nothing loth, Lottie seated herself, and listened attentively while her friend told of her own life, with all of its disappointments, hards.h.i.+ps, and trials.
”What has all this to do with me?” asked Lottie, suspiciously, for she had a vague idea that Flora had an object in view.
”It has this to do with you, Lottie dear,” answered Flora, as she put her own shapely hand, gently but firmly, over the rebellious one in Lottie's lap. ”It will show you that none of us can have things exactly as we want them, and we are cowards if we run away from our duties. Had I been left to choose what I wished, I should not have chosen a single thing that came to me, and yet I am sure everything turned out for the very best. In the first place, Aunt Sarah's sending me home made me think and act for myself and others, and in doing so I became far stronger than I would have been had I stayed with, and depended on Aunt Bertha, if she had lived. In doing the second, I found pleasure, and now that after all our worrying Harry has come back so changed, I am just as happy as I can be. But suppose I had run away, when things were dark and discouraging, would I now have anything to be happy over?”
”But n.o.body ever struck you, Flora. That is different,” said Lottie, looking less stubborn.
”No,” replied Flora; ”that is very true, dear; n.o.body ever struck me.
But I have had other things quite as hard. Indeed, things that I thought I could not possibly endure. But, you know who helped me bear them, don't you, Lottie dear?”
”Yes,” was the subdued reply. ”You mean G.o.d helped you.”
”Yes, and he will help you too, Lottie, if you will let him. But you must take up your duties again, you know.”
”What? go back to Aunt Emmeline?”
”Yes, I mean just that. I am sure she did not intend to treat you badly.