Betty's Battles Part 18

Clara looks up suddenly; her eyes round with wonder. "Why, Miss Betty, whatever do you mean?"

Betty makes a greater effort. "I used to feel as you do," she says. "I used to find I couldn't keep the good resolutions I made; I used to fall into dreadful fits of hopelessness, of wanting to give up trying any more; and then I went to Grannie's--my Grannie is a Salvationist, you know--and she took me to The Army Meetings. And one night, all of a sudden, I saw quite clearly how wrong I had been. I had been trying to live a good life, trusting in my own strength; and no one can do that.

It is only by coming to the Lord Jesus that we can be truly good; for it is only Jesus who can wash our sins away, and change our hearts, and make us like Himself."

There is another silence. Clara has taken up a corner of her ap.r.o.n, and is picking at it industriously.

"You think, miss," she says, nervously, after a while, "that--that if I went to The Army Meetings I might find it easier to do right?"

"I'm quite sure of it, Clara! O Clara, pray for a changed heart, ask for it, claim it! With the Lord for your Saviour, you'll soon conquer all the little difficulties that distress you now." Betty is nervous no longer. She has broken the ice and her words flow freely.

"And, Clara, salvation gives you such a lovely kind of happiness--I can't explain it--but very often you'll feel just the happiest girl in the whole world. How can people help being happy when they know they are on the Lord's side, when they know that He saves them, and loves them, and will take them to live with Him at last?

"There--there, I must go now, Lucy needs her dinner; but, Oh! Clara, do think of what I've said; do pray about it; do ask the Lord to show you what to do."

"She--she knows _you_, miss," says Clara softly.

Betty looks up from the toast she is making for Lucy's tea. Some time has pa.s.sed, and Lucy is almost well again, but Betty insists on waiting upon her as much as ever.

"Who knows me?" she asks. "What are you talking about, Clara?"

"The--the Captain," answers Clara, shyly. A light breaks over Betty's mind.

"You mean my dear Captain! I'm so glad--so very glad--and so you're going to the Meetings regularly?"

"Yes, miss."

"Isn't Captain Scott sweet; isn't she just like one of the Lord's own angel messengers!" cries Betty enthusiastically.

"Yes, miss."

"And she's helped you already, Clara; you're feeling ever so much happier--I can tell that by your voice."

Clara turns slowly round, and points to an Army s.h.i.+eld of silver, showing white against her dark dress. What a changed Clara! The tousled hair is smooth enough now under the neat cap, the dress is tidy, the ap.r.o.n clean. But it is not at hair or at dress that Betty is looking, not even at the s.h.i.+eld-brooch. No, it is on the smiling face that Betty fixes her eyes.

For the old, sullen, discontented expression has gone, and the plain little face is so bright with joy and triumph that it is sweet to look upon.

[Ill.u.s.tration: What a changed Clara!]

"Clara!" she cries, and drops the toast, and throws her arms round the little servant's neck. "So we're both Soldiers now--we're comrades," she whispers. "Ah, you know now just the difference salvation can make--don't you, Clara?"

"Oh, yes, miss indeed I do!"

"G.o.d bless you, Clara!"

"G.o.d bless you, miss! it was all through you," whispers Clara, shyly.

CHAPTER XIV

BETTY'S BIRTHDAY ONCE MORE

Betty's birthday has come round once more.

Autumn and winter have pa.s.sed since Lucy's illness, and Clara's conversion. Save for a slight limp, father's knee is well again, and Bob's progress with his music is quite wonderful. But the most wonderful thing that has taken place in the whole year, is the change in Betty herself. She _was_ one of the most discontented girls to be found anywhere, now she is one of the happiest.

Directly she wakes up this morning she sees that her room is full of bright spring suns.h.i.+ne, and straightway begins planning a little treat for her brothers and sisters.

"Jennie and Pollie have a half-holiday to-day. How fortunate! We'll all go out together this afternoon. A walk in the park among the spring flowers would be just the thing for Lucy. If I could only get mother to come too----"

"Many happy returns of your birthday, my dear, dear Betty!" Lucy's arms are suddenly flung round her neck, Lucy's lips pressed to her cheek. Her birthday! In her planning for other people's pleasure Betty had actually forgotten the day altogether.

It is delightful that Lucy has remembered it, though; and with a little laugh of genuine joy Betty returns her sister's kiss, and then devotes herself to the business of dressing.

Betty rather makes a point of being the first downstairs in the morning; then she is sure that father's breakfast is just as he likes it, and the children's porridge properly made. But this morning, as she pa.s.ses Bob's door, she notices that the room is empty. Bob up already! Mother's room-door standing wide. Are they _all_ up before her? Oh, she must have mistaken the time! No, seven o'clock is only just striking. What can it be?

She hurries downstairs, and now Lucy is close behind her.

Yes, they _are_ all up. The sitting-room is full of people. Father, mother, Bob, Harry, Jennie, Pollie, even Clara! For one instant Betty stares at them in utter bewilderment, and then they all make a rush at her, and she understands.

"Many happy returns of the day! Many happy returns of the day!" and father and mother are kissing her, and the boys have hold of her hands, and the younger children are shouting and dancing wildly about her.

Surprise and delight quite take Betty's breath away; indeed it is not until they all draw back a little, and begin holding up various pretty gifts, that she can find a voice to utter a single word. Even then she can only gasp out:--

"Father, mother--Oh, to think you should all remember my birthday like this! I shall never forget this morning--never!" and there are tears of love and joy in her eyes.

"_I_ shall never forget how bravely my la.s.s took over my work while I was laid up in the hospital," says father, proudly, as he fills her arms with flowers.

"_I_ shall never forget how patiently and unselfishly my little daughter works in the home," whispers mother.

"I'm not the sort of fellow to forget a good sister when I've got one, I should hope," says Bob, in his manliest voice. "Look, Betty, I've got you a little present; it isn't half bad, though, is it?" and Bob pulls out a showy photo-frame for which he has been saving up his pocket-money for some months past.

"Betty, Betty, we've hemmed you four handkerchiefs--and, Oh, we've had such a trouble to get them done without letting you know!" cry Pollie and Jennie. Even Harry has bought her a bag of chocolates; and here is poor little Clara, with a pair of mittens knitted by herself. "Do take them, miss--please. You said we were comrades, you know, and your hands do get so cold sometimes."

So they surround her with birthday gifts, and warm, loving looks; and Betty's heart is full of joy--almost too full to let her speak.

Last year Betty thought of little save herself--of her own woes, her own difficulties, and her birthday was almost forgotten. This year she thinks for others, she forgets herself. Betty--what would they do without dear Betty? There is no fear that her birthday will be forgotten any more by any of them!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Betty thanks Him with a grateful heart.]

Of course, Grannie's letter and parcel arrive by the next post. Betty manages to steal away to her room for a few moments to read the letter all alone. After a loving greeting, Grannie writes:--

"Last year I was anxious about you, my Betty; last year I sent you that little story of the Love-bird, hoping that it might open your eyes to the power love should be in the home. I knew that the light had come into your heart, but I feared that it had not yet found its way into all the corners and crooks of your character. You could not be happy, you could not really help those at home, whilst one little spot of darkness remained. No, you could never _live_ the love we spoke about the morning you left me, until your heart was all pure love. For, Betty, my dear, I know well that your life is full of many trials.