Part 29 (2/2)
”Julia, I declare you are enough to distract one. If you ask any more questions I shall certainly send you up stairs out of the way.”
Her scientific investigations thus nipped in the bud, Julia returned again to silence and raisins, until the vigorous beating of some eggs roused anew the spirit of inquiry. She leaned eagerly forward with a--
”Say, Ester, please tell me why the whites all foam and get thick when you stir them, just like beautiful white soapsuds.” And she rested her elbow, covered with its blue sleeve, plump into the platter containing the beaten yolks. You must remember Ester's face-ache, but even then I regret to say that this disaster culminated in a decided box on the ear for poor Julia, and in her being sent weeping up stairs. Sadie looked up with a wicked laugh in her bright eyes, and said, demurely:
”You didn't keep your promise, Ester, and let me live in peace, so I needn't keep mine and I consider you pretty well out of the spasm which has lasted for so many days.”
”Sadie, I am really ashamed of you.” This was Mrs. Ried's grave, reproving voice; and she added, kindly: ”Ester, poor child, I wish you would wrap your face up in something warm and lie down awhile. I am afraid you are suffering a great deal.”
Poor Ester! It had been a hard day. Late in the afternoon, as she stood at the table, and cut the bread, and cake, and cheese, and cold meat for tea; when the sun had made a rift in the clouds, and was peeping in for good-night; when the throbbing nerves had grown quiet once more, she looked back upon this weary day in shame and pain. How very little her n.o.ble resolves, and efforts, and advances had been worth after all. How far back she seemed to have gone in that one day--not strength enough to bear even the little crosses that befell in an ordinarily quiet life! How she had lost the so-lately-gained influence over Alfred and Julia by a few cross words! How much reason she had given Sadie to think that her attempts at following the Master were, after all, only spasmodic and visionary! But Ester had been to that little clothes-press up stairs in search of help and forgiveness, and now she clearly saw there was something to do besides mourn over her failures. It was hard to do it, too. Ester's spirit was proud, and it was very humbling to confess herself in the wrong. She hesitated and shrank from the work, until she finally grew ashamed of herself for that; and at last, without turning her head from her work, or giving her resolve time to falter, she called to the twins, who were occupying seats in one of the dining-room windows, and talking low and soberly to each other:
”Children, come here a moment, will you?”
The two had been very shy of Ester since the morning's trials, and were at that moment sympathizing with each other in a manner uncomplimentary to her. However, they slid down from their perch and slowly answered her call.
Ester glanced up as they entered the storeroom, and then went on cutting her cheese, but speaking in low, gentle tones:
”I want to tell you two how sorry I am that I spoke so crossly and unkindly to you this morning. It was very wrong in me. I thought I never should displease Jesus so again, but I did, you see; and now I am very sorry indeed, and I want you to forgive me.”
Alfred looked aghast. This was an Ester that he had never seen before, and he didn't know what to say. He wriggled the toes of his boots together, and looked down at them in puzzled wonder. At last he faltered out:
”I didn't know your cheek ached till mother told me, or else I'd have shut the door right straight. I'd ought to, _any how_, cheek or no cheek.”
This last in a lower tone, and more looking down at his boots. It was new work for Alfred, this voluntarily owning himself in the wrong.
Julia burst forth eagerly. ”And I was very careless and naughty to keep putting my elbows on the table after you had told me not to, and I am ever so sorry that I made you such a lot of trouble.”
”Well, then,” said Ester, ”we'll all forgive each other, shall we, and begin over again? And, children, I want you to understand that I _am_ trying to please Jesus; and when I fail it is because of my own wicked heart, not because there is any need of it if I tried harder; and I want you to know how anxious I am that you should love this same Jesus now while you are young, and get him to help you.”
Their mother called the children at this moment, and Ester dismissed them each with a kiss. There was a little rustle in the flour-room, and Sadie, whom n.o.body knew was down stairs, emerged therefrom with suspiciously red eyes but a laughing face, and approached her sister.
”Ester,” said she, ”I'm positively afraid that you are growing into a saint, and I know that I'm a sinner. I consider myself mistaken about the spasm--it is evidently a settled disease.”
While the bell tolled for evening service Ester stood in the front doorway, and looked doubtfully up and down the damp pavements and muddy streets, and felt of her stiff cheek. How much she seemed to need the rest and help of G.o.d's house to-night; and yet--
Julia's little hand stole softly into hers. ”We've been talking about what you said you wanted us to do, Alfred and I have. We've talked about it a good deal lately. _We_ most wish so, too.”
Ere Ester could reply other than by an eager grasp of the small hand, Dr. Dougla.s.s came out. His horses and carriage were in waiting.
”Miss Ried,” he said, pausing irresolutely with his foot on the carriage step, and finally turning back, ”I am going to drive down to church this evening, as I have a call to make afterward. Will you not ride down with me; it is unpleasant walking?”
Ester's grave face brightened. ”I'm so glad,” she answered eagerly.
”I _did_ want to go to church to-night, and I was afraid it would be imprudent on account of my tooth.”
Alfred and Julia sat right before them in church; and Ester watched them with a prayerful, and yet a sad heart What right had she to expect an answer to her pet.i.tions when her life had been working against them all that day? And yet the blood of Christ was all-powerful, and there was always _his_ righteousness to plead; and she bent her head in renewed supplications for these two, ”And it shall come to pa.s.s, that before they call I will answer, and while they are yet speaking I will hear.”
Into one of the breathless stillnesses that came, while beating hearts were waiting for the requests that they hoped would be made, broke Julia's low, trembling, yet singularly clear voice:
<script>