XXIV.
MARCH 20.
HELEN returned Dr.Cabot's letter in silence this morning, but, directly after breakfast, set forth to visit Mrs.Campbell, with the little bottle of beef-tea in her hands, which ought to have gone yesterday.I had a busy day before me; the usual Saturday baking and Sunday dinner to oversee, the children's lessons for to-morrow to superintend and hear them repeat, their clean clothes to lay out, and a basket of stockings to mend.My mind was somewhat distracted with these cares, and I found it a little difficult to keep on with my morning devotions in spite of them.But I have learned, at least, to face and fight such distractions, instead of running away from them as I used to do.My faith in prayer, my resort to it, becomes more and more the foundation of my life, and I believe, with one wiser and better than myself, that nothing but prayer stands between my soul and the best gifts of God; in other words, that I can and shall get what I ask for.
I went down into the kitchen, put on my large baking apron, and began my labors; of course the door-bell rang, and a poor woman was announced.It is very sweet to follow Fenelon's counsel and give oneself to Christ in all these interruptions; but this time I said, "oh, dear!" before I thought.Then I wished I hadn't, and went up, with a cheerful face at any rate, to my unwelcome visitor, who proved to be one of my aggravating poor folks-a great giant of a woman, in perfect health, and with a husband to support her if he will.I told her that I could do no more for her; she answered me rudely, and kept urging her claims.I felt ruffled; why should my time be thus frittered away, I asked myself.At last she went off, abusing me in a way that chilled my heart.I could only beg God to forgive her, and return to my work, which I had hardly resumed when Mrs.Embury sent for a pattern I had promised to lend her.Off came my apron, and up two pairs of stairs I ran; after a long search it came to light.Work resumed; door-bell again.Aunty wanted the children to come to an early dinner.Going to Aunty's is next to going to Paradise to them.
Every thing was now hurry and flurry; I tried to be patient; and not to fret their temper by undue attention to nails, ears, and other susceptible parts of the human frame, but after it was all over, and I had kissed all the sweet, dear faces good-by, and returned to the kitchen, I felt sure that I had not been the perfect mother I want to be in all these little emergencies-yes, far from it.Bridget had let the milk I was going to use boil over, and finally burn up.I was annoyed and irritated, and already tired,.and did not see how I was to get more, as Mary was cleaning the silver (to be sure, there is not much of it), and had other extra Saturday work to do.I thought Bridget might offer to run to the corner for it, though it isn't her business, hut she is not obliging, and seemed as sulky as if I had burned the milk, not she."After all," I said to myself, "what does it signify, if Ernest gets no dessert? It isn't good for him, and how much precious time is wasted over just this one thing?" However, Ireflected, that arbitrarily refusing to indulge him in this respect is not exactly my mission as his wife; he is perfectly well, and likes his little luxuries as well as other people do.So I humbled my pride and asked Bridget to go for the milk, which she did, in a lofty way of her own.While she was gone the marketing came home, and I had everything to dispose of.Ernest had sent home some apples, which plainly said, "I want some apple pie, Katy." I looked nervously at the clock, and undertook to gratify him.Mary came down, crying, to say that her mother, who lived in Brooklyn, was very sick; could she go to see her? I looked at the clock once more; told her she should go, of course, as soon as lunch was over; this involved my doing all her absence left undone.
At last I got through with the kitchen, the Sunday dinner being well under way, and ran upstairs to put away the host of little garments the children had left when they took their flight, and to make myself presentable at lunch.Then I began to be uneasy lest Ernest should not be punctual, and Mary be delayed; but he came just as the clock struck one.I ran joyfully to meet him, very glad now that I had something good to give him.We bad just got through lunch, and I was opening my mouth to tell Mary she might go, when the doorbell rang once more, and Mrs.Fry, of Jersey City, was announced.I told Mary to wait till I found whether she had lunched or not; no, she hadn't;had come to town to see friends off, was half famished, and would Ido her the favor, etc., etc.She had a fashionable young lady with her, a stranger to me, as well as a Miss Somebody else, from Albany, whose name I did not catch.I apologized for having finished lunch.
Mrs.Fry said all they wanted was a cup of tea and a bit of bread and butter, nothing else, dear; now don't put yourself out.
"Now be bright and animated, and like yourself," she whispered, "for I have brought these girls here on purpose to hear you talk, and they are prepared to fall in love with you on the spot"This speech sufficed to shut my mouth.
