Left to Ourselves; or, John Headley's Promise.

by Anonymous

  CHAPTER XVI.

  _THE RAG CUSHION._

  "Well, Agnes?" said John, one sombre afternoon soon after Christmas, asthe brothers and sisters gathered round the fire with a heap of nutseach, which they intended to enjoy.

  "Well?" echoed Agnes.

  "Now for the stories of the other puddings."

  "Oh, very well," said Agnes; "to resume, then."

  * * * * *

  "After we had left Mrs. Freeman's door, Minnie and I went a littlefurther up the street. We were not sorry, I assure you, to get rid ofour first heavy parcel, for our arms ached with it. At last, in thewind, and rain, and darkness, we found the house where Mrs. Hales hasher home. This, you must know, consists of one little stuffy room on thesecond floor.

  "We groped our way up the dark staircase, and, after some fumbling, wefound the door of the back room and knocked at it.

  "A feeble voice bade us 'Come in,' and we found ourselves in thepresence of the dear old woman.

  "'Well, my dear,' she said, holding out her thin hand, 'so you've come,like a Christmas blessing, to see me.'

  "We sat down by her, Minnie holding the parcel in her lap. I was quiteused, as you know, to her ways, so let her take her own plan, as onother days. She was seated in a high-backed chair, with an old shawltucked behind her head as a support, and her feet resting on a smallwooden box in front of the very tiniest fire you ever did see.

  "She seemed very silent after the first greeting; so, as Minnie was mostimpatient to open our package, I asked her if she felt equal to lookingat what we had brought for her.

  "She assented, and Minnie's little eager fingers soon untied thestrings, and presented your bright cushion, John and Hugh.

  "Her poor pale face smiled when she saw it, and she asked me to draw outthe old shawl, and replace it by the cushion.

  "'And now the shawl will do for my knees,' she said, 'which do feel thecold very much.'

  "'And here is a little Christmas pudding for you, and a tin of groats,and a trifle to buy some coals with, and a text.'

  "'My dear,' she said, 'you are very loving, and the Lord is veryloving, and He has sent me just what I wanted most, and that's the waywith the Lord, my dear. He knows about us--just all about us. He knowsmy head has been weary enough without a cushion; He knows my knees havebeen cold; He knows I wanted some gruel; and when He brings me nearenough to Him to say from my heart--truly, my dear, from my veryheart--"Dear Lord, I'm willing to wait Thy time, Thou knowest best forme"--then, my dear, He lovingly sends you round (you don't mind mysaying _He_ sent you, my dear) with just the very things of all others Iwanted. He's a _dear_ Lord.'

  "There were tears on her wrinkled cheeks as she laid her hand onMinnie's little one, which rested on her knee.

  "'Here's the text,' said Minnie, holding up the one you painted for her,John.

  "'My God shall supply all your need, according to His riches in glory byChrist Jesus.'

  "'Ah, my dear,' she continued, 'and it isn't only our needs for thisworld. We are very apt to think, all of us, that it means food, andclothes, and fire; but it don't, my dear--not only that--it's that Hesupplies _everything_--He supplies grace to bear, patience to wait,faith to trust, and hope to look forward to the time when we shall bewith Him for ever.'

  "She looked up now, beyond the walls of the little room, beyond thedingy paper, on to the everlasting Home which is coming to all who waitfor Him.

  "When she brought her mind back, as it were, from these thoughts, Iasked her if she could bear two or three nails driven in somewhere. Shelooked a little surprised, but I produced Hugh's little hammer, and soonhad put her text where she could see it without turning her poor head.Then I drew forth from the bottom of the parcel the unworn end of ourold wool door-mat, and with her permission nailed it securely to the topof her wooden footstool, and when we had seen her with greatsatisfaction place her feet upon it again, we left her, while weretraced our steps homewards, the Christmas bells ringing in my ears allthe way with these words borne upon them, 'My God shall supply all yourneed--all your need--all your need.'"

  "Who thought of the piece of old mat for her stool?" asked Hugh.

  "I think I did," said Agnes. "I was reading to her one day, when Inoticed how thin her shoes were, and how comfortless the old box looked.But she never repines; though she has only that little miserable room,which she never leaves, she says not a word, but is always full ofthanksgiving for her many mercies."

  "I believe the less people have the more grateful they are," said Alice.

  "I don't see that at all!" exclaimed Hugh. While Agnes said:

  "Oh, no! that isn't it, Alice. But sometimes, when people lose allearthly possessions, they are brought to seek that great heavenlypossession which makes up for every other loss. That's what it is."

  "Then the humdrum people who are just comfortable don't get such a goodchance as the poor ones, according to you, Agnes," Hugh observed.

  She shook her head, smiling. "Sometimes they have to lose something theyvalue very much before they can be brought to receive the greatpossession."

  "What sort of thing?" asked Hugh quickly.

  "I do not know," answered Agnes thoughtfully. "Each one of us valuessome one thing more than another; and if we love it better than Him, itwill have to go."

  "But what, Agnes? Can't you say the kind of things?"

  "Our own way sometimes," she answered slowly, "that's often hardest ofall; at least to some people."

  "Yes," said Hugh, laughing a little; "some of us always do think we knowbest."

  At this moment a diversion occurred.

  "You're wanted in the drawing-room, Master Hugh," said the maid;"there's the same young gentleman that came on Christmas-day, and hissister."

  Hugh turned very red, and was hastening away, when he came back to say,"Agnes, come and help a fellow, will you?"

  Agnes followed him upstairs, wondering what they had come for.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Headley," said the young lady, bending, but notoffering her hand. "My brother asked me to come and intercede with youto allow your young people to join our little party next week?"

  "I?" echoed Agnes, surprised. "I really did not know they were asked.Hugh, did you forget to tell me?"

  Agnes felt uncomfortable, and wished Hugh had explained before they cameup.

  "Well, no," answered Hugh; "I told Tom we couldn't come."

  "He said," answered Miss Radnor, "that he was sure his sister would notapprove."

  "It would have been better for Hugh to have asked me," answered Agnes;"but now will you kindly tell me what it is you wish?"

  Miss Radnor looked as if it were all a great bore, but answeredpolitely:

  "Tom has set his heart on having Hugh and his two younger sisters to hisparty next week. Will you allow them to come? I believe they are torefer to you, as their parents are away."

  "Thank you very much," said Agnes, hesitating a little, "you are verykind, but I believe my father would prefer our declining."

  "But why?" asked the girl; "I really cannot take no for an answer."

  "I should not feel at liberty to make any fresh acquaintances while ourparents are away."

  "How ridiculous! How can a schoolfellow be a fresh acquaintance?"

  "I am sorry to seem discourteous," said Agnes gently; "but I know myparents' feelings on these subjects, and must beg you to excuse us tilltheir return."

  "Oh, just as you like, _of course_," said the girl, rising; "I don'tthink we should have done your charge any harm."

  "I am sure you would not mean to," answered Agnes gravely--so gravelythat Miss Radnor flushed angrily.

  "Are we such undesirable acquaintances?"

  "I did not mean that," answered Agnes, raising her eyes steadily, "butit is so difficult in these days to keep in the path----"

  "What path?" she asked impatiently.

  "The narrow path that leadeth to Life," Agnes answered very low. "Do notbe vexed with me, we are strangers,
and may never meet again; but we dowant to keep in that, cost what it may."

  Miss Radnor laughed haughtily. "I had no idea you were so religious!"she exclaimed. "I beg your pardon for coming; good-day."

  With that she swept out of the room, followed by Tom, who only gave Hugha passing grimace, which Hugh was at a loss to interpret. Did it meansympathy with him, or with his sister?

  "Hugh," said Agnes, "you should have told me."

  "I never thought there would be another word. What a hateful girl,Agnes."

  "I do not suppose she is; though I can't say I admired her."

  "She looked round on all our things as though they were dirt!"

  "Nonsense. But I daresay she is richer than we are."

  "Oceans! They have twice as big a house."

  "And half as big hearts perhaps," laughed Agnes. "Oh, Hugh, I pity thatpoor Tom."

  "So do I, now I see what sort of a sister he's got. But he doesn't thinkher bad; he told me she was 'a stunner.'"

  "I daresay. Well dear, are you satisfied with what I said? I wish I hadsaid it better."

  Hugh kissed her. "I couldn't have had half the courage you had," heanswered; "and they'll be all the better for it some day, depend uponit. Don't look downhearted, you're a dear old girl."