Frederica and her Guardians Part 14

But Frederica had all her housekeeping to learn yet. She did not know what she was saying when she was speaking in this way to her father. It is not to be supposed that an inexperienced young girl like her could at once have rightly governed and guided so large a household, even had she set herself to the work with a full sense of its responsibility and difficulty. She had some misgivings in the direction of "papa," but all the rest seemed easy and pleasant. Indeed, she considered it "great fun" to keep the keys, and order dinner, and hold consultations with the cook over courses, and dishes, and sauces, of which she knew nothing at all.

It was "great fun" to the cook too, but she tired of it after a while, and so did Frederica. As a general thing, the cook heard the orders and took her own way about obeying them, which, on the whole, answered everybody's purpose best. But sometimes the young mistress forgot her orders, or did what was worse, issued orders which were contradictory or impossible to obey. And sometimes, in her ignorance, she was arbitrary and unreasonable, and a.s.sumed dignified "airs," and a.s.serted her authority at wrong times, and made "no end" of trouble. "And as for standing the like of that from a child that didn't know white sauce from b.u.t.ter, it was not to be thought of for a minute," cook said, with sufficient emphasis.

It was the cook who was Frederica's greatest trouble, because she was the only servant in the house, except Dixen, who could in any measure interfere with the comfort or temper of her father; and in trying to keep things right for him, she put them often woefully wrong. So domestic affairs were in rather a troubled state for a while. Tessie was not altogether wrong, when she a.s.serted that it would have been much more comfortable for everybody if she had left the servants of the house to do things in their own way, and of course it came to that at last.

Frederica grew tired of being anxious, and dignified, and out of temper, and by-and-by let the cook and all the rest of them take their own plans, and fell into the usual holiday ways, and devoted herself to her mother and Selina. She kept the keys still, and ordered dinner; but very often the store-room door was open, while the keys were safe in her little basket, and her orders for dinner were very apt to degenerate into amiable and undignified coaxings for certain favourite dishes at the cook's hands. This was a great deal more agreeable for all concerned, and was quite as well every way. For the servants had been well trained by Mrs Ascot, and they sufficiently appreciated the advantages of a good place and good wages, to be reasonably faithful in the performance of their duties. And besides, in a little time they grew quite fond and proud of their merry and pretty young mistress, and took pains to please her, when it did not involve too much trouble to themselves.

And so Mrs Ascot was less missed in the house than she would have believed possible. Even "papa" ceased to be critical and vexatious when he found that his dinner, and his boots, and his fine linen seemed to make their appearance at proper times with no trouble to himself.

Household affairs settled into their new grooves quietly and regularly, and the young housekeeper gave herself not much trouble about them for a while. She had enough to do without them. Even in the busiest of housekeeping times, the sisters had never neglected their mother and Selina.

The presence of the girls in the house made a joyful difference to them.

The sound of their voices, as they danced out and in the rooms, usually so silent and lonely, was music and medicine to their mother. She grew better and stronger in these weeks, and made efforts that she would have believed impossible before they came home.

Mr Vane's desire that the girls should confine themselves to the garden for their walks and amus.e.m.e.nts was not so disagreeable to them as it might have been. For the summer proved to be hot and dry, and the streets were dusty and close, and the large and beautiful garden, with its walks, and soft green turf and shady trees, was as pleasant a place as could well be imagined in which to pa.s.s the sultry days.

From the first day of her return home Frederica had been faithful with regard to the reading of the Bible with her mother and Selina. Eppie had said that this was one of the ways by which she had been taught to be religious. She knew that other good people valued the Bible for the wisdom it contained, or for the comfort it could give. She had heard it spoken of as the rule of life, and as the guide to heaven, and she determined to know what it contained, and to get the good of it for herself and for those she loved. So, beginning at the beginning, she read regularly a portion every day. She might have grown tired of it after a while, for though she found some of it full of interest, it was not all so, and she did not find in it what she had hoped to find. It did not tell her directly and plainly what she must do. She did not see the way to be good and serve G.o.d pointed out in words that she could understand, and she might have been tempted to betake herself to other books for instruction and amus.e.m.e.nt, if it had not been for Selina. But there was no doubt about her interest in what she heard.

Selina's life had been quiet and untroubled. There had been her mother's ill-health, and the occasional irritability and despondency consequent upon it, and there had been the vexations that from time to time had come on them through the agency, direct or indirect, of Mrs Ascot. But there had been nothing else to disturb in any painful way the uneventful days to her. And there had been as little to heighten beyond its usual quiet flow the contented current of daily occupation and pleasure. There had been her little brothers' daily visit to their mother's room, and the infrequent joyful holidays of her sisters, but her life had been still and monotonous. Her interests and occupations had not been of a kind to take her thoughts out of the house where she had always lived. Their few visitors brought little to her but the usual commonplace talk and superficial sympathy, and even the books that were read, and the tales that were told her, were not of a kind to move the unawakened heart and mind of one withdrawn by her blindness and isolation from a young girl's interest in the world around her.

And so when Frederica came with her eager interest in the reading, and her vague but joyful hopes of all that might spring out of it, Selina did not know what it meant, but prepared herself to take pleasure in the pleasure of her sisters, as she had often done before. But this state of mind did not survive even the first day's reading. All the wonderful new things to which she listened were for her, as well as for Frederica and the rest. They were not new to Frederica. She had often read before how in the beginning the heavens and the earth were made. The mother, too, had some vague remembrance of what the Book contained, for during the first years of her married life she had gone to church with her husband. But strange as it may seem, all was new to Selina, and to all that her sister read she listened eagerly, and thought and spoke of it afterwards with a wonder and delight that encouraged her sister to persevere in the reading; and whatever else was neglected or hurried over, to the reading was always given its full share of time and attention.

This was the beginning of a new life to Selina. If her beautiful blind eyes had been suddenly opened on the world around her, it could hardly have made a more entire change in her thoughts and feelings and enjoyments, than did this daily reading of the Bible. She did not say much about it. It had always been her way to listen to the others rather than to speak, and it was her way still. But a great many new thoughts came to her, and the knowledge of many wonderful truths. Her thoughts were often confused, and her reception of truth partial and imperfect, but her interest and enjoyment were real and deep. All that came to her through the reading did not come at once, and the best did not come first. The blessing for which Frederica hoped, and looked, and sometimes prayed, did not come in its fulness to any of them for a good while after that, but from the first the reading was a source of happiness to them, and most of all to Selina.

Mrs Vane's enjoyment of it was in the enjoyment of her children. To be sitting, free from pain, in the garden, where she had played as a child, with her own children around her, and with no care or fear pressing immediately upon her, was enough to satisfy her. Their delight in the reading, and in the talk that often grew out of it, she did not share.

She did not understand it, nor cared to do so at first. To watch her blind darling's bright absorbed face, and to see her sisters' tender affection, and their desire to give her a part in the pleasure from which her affliction tended to debar her, was happiness to the mother, who had grieved so much over her in the past.

Mrs Vane was not a very wise mother, nor indeed a very wise woman in any relation of life, and she wished nothing more for herself nor for her children than a continuation of just such days as these. She felt so safe and at rest in the suns.h.i.+ne of the dear old garden, shut in from the world, where trouble was, and danger. It was a new experience to her to have them all around her, with no one to interfere with their plans and pleasures, and she desired nothing beyond.

Mr Vane had gone away, as he always did for a month or two in the summer, and there were few interruptions in the quiet of their lives.

Once or twice Frederica and Tessie went to visit their half-sister Mrs Brandon, who lived in a pretty house near the mountain. They went because they knew their father wished them to go, but they did not enjoy going very much. Their sister Caroline was very pretty and good, they thought, and she meant to be very kind to them; but she had a way of looking at them and listening to them as though she thought them odd little creatures, different from other young girls, which was not agreeable to them; and she had a way of speaking of their father as "poor papa" or "poor dear papa," which was especially distasteful to Frederica, and which she resented, not for her father's sake, but for her mother's, and she did not always conceal her displeasure. So they did not go often, nor stay long.

They drove out in the carriage when the days were clear and cool, and once or twice they had a visit from Madame Precoe. Mr St. Cyr's brother came several times; but for the most part they were alone, and the days pa.s.sed quietly away. They read other books as well as the Bible. Selina took pleasure in them all, and Frederica promised, when her holidays were over, seriously to attend to her sister's neglected education, and even now favoured her with sc.r.a.ps of information remembered from her own lessons, historical and geographical facts, and bits of botany, and even grammatical rules. Selina declared herself ready to be taught all that her sister knew, but in the meantime it was the reading of the Bible about which she cared most.

Many grave discussions grew out of the reading. They made mistakes often, and said foolish things, and any one listening to them must have been sometimes amused and sometimes pained by the ignorance they displayed, and by the opinions they expressed; but no one could have failed to discern in them an eager desire to know the truth and to obey it. And they who earnestly desire to know the truth have an infallible teacher and guide, and it is certain of such, for He says it, that "they shall know the truth, and the truth shall make them free."

"I have heard that before, more than once," said Selina one day, when Frederica had read the promise of G.o.d to Isaac in Gerar: "And I will make thy seed to multiply as the stars of heaven, and will give unto thy seed all these countries; and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed."

"Yes, we have had it before," said Frederica. "The same promise was given to Abraham, you know."

"What does it mean, I wonder?" asked Selina. "Oh! it means that the children of Abraham were to become a great people, as they did afterwards. They were G.o.d's own chosen people. All the Bible is written about them, you know."

"Yes, but how are all the nations of the earth to be blessed through them?"

"I have heard something about it," said Frederica meditatively. "Let me think a minute. Oh, yes! it was because the Saviour was to come among them. The Bible is all about the Jewish people, because Jesus was a Jew."

"Was He?" said Selina wistfully.

"Yes, and of course that is what it means. Jesus died for all men.

Jesus is the Son of G.o.d, and the son of Mary, you know."

"No," said Selina gravely; "I don't know."

"Well, never mind, we can read about it," said Frederica, turning the leaves of the Bible till she came to the first chapter of Matthew. "It is all here, and we will read it."

Going rapidly over the first verses to herself, till she came to the eighteenth, she then read, "Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise," and so on. "Thou shalt call His name Jesus; for He shall save His people from their sins. And they shall call His name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, G.o.d with us."

Frederica lingered over these pa.s.sages, reading them many times, and trying to remember all that she had heard about them.

"Jesus is G.o.d, you know, and He became man that He might die for us, and save us from our sins, as the verse says; and we ought to love Him, and obey Him, and serve Him."

"Yes," said Selina, "if we only knew the way. If we had any one to teach us."

"We are going to learn the way. It is all here; in the Bible, I mean,"

said Frederica.

"They all say that--Miss Robina, and Miss Pardie, and all of them. And the clergymen say it in church. And Mrs Glencairn said always that we must not mind what people say about religion, unless it is in the Bible.

And Eppie told me once that G.o.d Himself would teach us."

"And do you think He will?"

"Yes, if we ask Him--when we say our prayers, you know."

"When we say 'Our Father,' you mean?"

Every night and morning since she was a little child, Selina had said "Our Father."

"Yes, and we may ask for other things, and G.o.d will give them. We learned texts about it once, only I can't quite remember them. This is one--'Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name, He will give it you.' Jesus Himself says that."

"And will He?" asked Selina.

"Yes," said Frederica, with a little hesitation, "if we ask right things, I suppose."

"And would He make me see, if I were to ask Him? Oh, mama I only think if He would!"

Mrs Vane clasped the eager little hand that touched hers, and sighed.

"But, mama, He could do it. He opened blind eyes many times while He was on earth, and His being in heaven now would make no difference. He _could_ do it, I suppose," said Frederica, not knowing very well what to say.

"And will He, do you think, if I ask Him? Mama will ask Him too, and you and Tessie."

"He could do it if He chose. But perhaps it means not such things we are to ask for, but that He would teach us, and make us wise and good, and forgive us our sins, and take us to heaven when we die," said Frederica. "And you are very happy as you are, dear! You don't care very much about it, do you?" said she, kissing softly the beautiful blind eyes that were wet, though they were smiling, too.

"Frederica, love, you are making your sister unhappy, I fear," said her mother anxiously. "My darling, come to me!"

Selina kissed her mother gently two or three times. "Unhappy! no, mama.

It was only for a moment, and it was for you that I wished it, mama, more than for myself."

Her mother could only murmur fond words over her, as she caressed her tenderly.