Elsie's Motherhood Part 50

"But I've been very naughty, mammy," sobbed the little girl.

"Yes, Miss Wi'let, honey: an' we's all been naughty, but de good Lord forgib us for Jesus' sake if we's sorry an' don't 'tend neber to do so no mo'."

"Yes, mammy, Oh I wish you could stay with me I but you musn't: for mamma said I must be all alone."

"Yes, darlin'; an' if you wants mo' supper, jes ring dis, an' mammy'll come."

She placed a small silver bell on the table beside Vi, and with a tender, compa.s.sionate look at the tear-swollen face, went away.

The young Travillas were sometimes denied dainties because of misconduct, but always allowed to satisfy their youthful appet.i.tes with an abundance of wholesome, nouris.h.i.+ng food.

Vi ate her supper with a keen relish, and found herself greatly comforted by it. How much one's views of life are brightened by a good comfortable meal that does not overtax the digestive organs. Vi suddenly remembered with a feeling of relief that the worst of her trouble--the confession--was over, and the punishment nearly so.

It was only a little while till mamma came, took her on her lap, kissed and forgave her.

"Mamma, I'm so, _so_ sorry for having disobeyed and grieved you!"

whispered the child, weeping afresh: "for I do love you very, very much, my own mamma."

"I know it, dearest; but I want you to be far more sorry for having disobeyed G.o.d, who loves you more, a great deal, than your parents do, and has given you every good thing you have."

"Yes, mamma, I've asked G.o.d many times to forgive me for Jesus's sake, and I think he has."

"Yes, if you asked with your heart, I am sure he has; for Jesus said, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you.'"

There was a little pause, Vi nestling close in her mother's arms; then with a quiver in her voice, "Mamma," she sighed, "will you ever trust me again?"

"Just the same as before, my child; because I believe you are truly sorry for your sin against G.o.d and against me."

"Thank you, dear, dear mamma! oh I hope G.o.d will help me to keep from ever being naughty any more."

Chapter Twenty-seventh.

"Conscience makes cowards of us all."

Meta was not in a cheerful or companionable mood during the walk that afternoon; the stings of conscience goaded her and she was haunted by the fear that Violet, so young and innocent, so utterly unused to concealments, would betray her share in the mischief done, even without intending to do so.

"Meta, what's the matter with you?" Herbert asked at length; "you haven't spoken a pleasant word since we came out."

"I'm not ill," was the laconic reply.

"Then you must be in the sulks, and ought to have staid at home,"

returned the plain-spoken brother.

"Oh don't tease her," said little Elsie. "Perhaps she has a headache, and I know by myself that that makes one feel dull, and sometimes even cross."

"You cross! I don't believe you ever were in your life," said Herbert.

"I've never seen you any thing but pleasant as a May morning."

"Don't quarrel, children, but help me to gather some of these lovely flowers to scatter over the graves up there on the hill," said Rosie Dinsmore.

"Our graves," said Eddie, softly. "Yes I'd like to; but, Aunt Rosie, I don't believe we can get in."

"Yes, we can," she answered. "Uncle Joe's up there at work, weeding and tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the rosebushes."

"Then I'll gather plenty of these beauties," said Eddie, stooping to pluck the lovely, many-hued blossoms that spangled the velvety gra.s.s at their feet in every direction.

"How beautiful! how beautiful they are! and some of them so fragrant!"

exclaimed Elsie, rapidly filling a pretty basket she carried in her hand. "How good G.o.d is to give us so many lovely things!"

"Yes," returned Rosie, "it seems a pity to pluck them from their stems and make them wither and die; but there is such a profusion that what we take can hardly be missed."

"And it's honoring our graves to scatter flowers over them: isn't it, Aunt Rosie?" Eddie asked.

"Why do you say our graves? just as if you were already buried there,"

laughed Herbert.

"Come," said Rosie, "I think we have enough now."

"O Aunt Rosie, down in that little dell yonder they are still thicker than here, and more beautiful, I think," exclaimed Elsie.

"But we have enough now; your basket is full. We'll go to that dell as we come back, and gather some to take home to our mammas."

"Oh yes, that will be best," Elsie said, with cheerful acquiescence.

"I shall go now and get some worthy to honor the dead," said Meta, starting off in the direction of the dell.

"Meta likes to show her independence," said Rosie, smiling; "we won't wait for her."

They climbed the hill, pushed open the gate of the little enclosure and pa.s.sed in; very quietly, for their youthful spirits were subdued by the solemn stillness of the place, and a feeling of awe crept over them at thought of the dead whose dust lay sleeping there.

Silently they scattered the flowers over each lowly resting place, reserving the most beautiful for that of her who was best known to them all--the first who had borne the name of Elsie Dinsmore.

"Our dear grandma!" whispered Elsie and Eddie, softly.

"I can't help feeling as if she was some relation to me too," said Rosie, "because she was my sister's mother, and papa's wife."

The breeze carried the words to the ear of Uncle Joe, who was at work on the farther side of the enclosure, and had not till that moment been aware of the vicinity of the young people.

He rose and came hobbling toward them, pulling off his hat and bowing respectfully.

"Dat's so, Miss Rosie, ef you lubs de Lord, like she did, de dear young Missus dat lays heyah; for don't de 'postle say ob de Lord's chillen dat dey's all one in Christ Jesus? all one, Miss Rosie: heirs ob G.o.d and joint heirs wid Christ."

"Yes, Uncle Joe, that is true."

"Ah, she was lubly an' lubbed de Master well," he went on, leaning upon his staff and gazing fixedly at the name engraved on the stone, "She's not dead, chillen: her soul's wid de Lord in dat land ob light an'