Left to Ourselves Part 24

"Not to-day. Minnie and I saw other things, but you will have to wait for those till we have another opportunity."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XVI.

_THE RAG CUSHION._

"Well, Agnes?" said John, one sombre afternoon soon after Christmas, as the brothers and sisters gathered round the fire with a heap of nuts each, 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 little further up the street. We were not sorry, I a.s.sure you, to get rid of our first heavy parcel, for our arms ached with it. At last, in the wind, and rain, and darkness, we found the house where Mrs. Hales has her home. This, you must know, consists of one little stuffy room on the second floor.

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

"A feeble voice bade us 'Come in,' and we found ourselves in the presence 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 quite used, as you know, to her ways, so let her take her own plan, as on other days. She was seated in a high-backed chair, with an old shawl tucked behind her head as a support, and her feet resting on a small wooden box in front of the very tiniest fire you ever did see.

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

"She a.s.sented, and Minnie's little eager fingers soon untied the strings, and presented your bright cushion, John and Hugh.

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

"'And now the shawl will do for my knees,' she said, 'which do feel the cold 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 very loving, and He has sent me just what I wanted most, and that's the way with the Lord, my dear. He knows about us--just all about us. He knows my head has been weary enough without a cushion; He knows my knees have been cold; He knows I wanted some gruel; and when He brings me near enough to Him to say from my heart--truly, my dear, from my very heart--"Dear Lord, I'm willing to wait Thy time, Thou knowest best for me"--then, my dear, He lovingly sends you round (you don't mind my saying _He_ sent you, my dear) with just the very things of all others I wanted. He's a _dear_ Lord.'

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

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

"'My G.o.d shall supply all your need, according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.'

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

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

"When she brought her mind back, as it were, from these thoughts, I asked her if she could bear two or three nails driven in somewhere. She looked a little surprised, but I produced Hugh's little hammer, and soon had 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 our old wool door-mat, and with her permission nailed it securely to the top of her wooden footstool, and when we had seen her with great satisfaction place her feet upon it again, we left her, while we retraced our steps homewards, the Christmas bells ringing in my ears all the way with these words borne upon them, 'My G.o.d shall supply all your need--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 I noticed 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 of thanksgiving 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 all earthly possessions, they are brought to seek that great heavenly possession 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 good chance as the poor ones, according to you, Agnes," Hugh observed.

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

"What sort of thing?" asked Hugh quickly.

"I do not know," answered Agnes thoughtfully. "Each one of us values some one thing more than another; and if we love it better than Him, it will 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 of all; at least to some people."

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

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 his sister."

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 not offering her hand. "My brother asked me to come and intercede with you to 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 came up.