KATY MATURES A MAGNIFICENT SCHEME.
"I suppose it is all for the best, mother," said Katy, when she had told her sad story of disappointment. "I can't get those words out of my head, since you have told me about my father. I feel just as though everything would come out right, it does go very bad just now."
"I am glad you feel so, Katy," added Mrs. Redburn. "It will make you much better contented with your lot. I have suffered so much that I cannot help repining a little, though I feel that my destiny and yours is in the hands of the wise Father, who bringeth good out of evil."
Katy had not yet reached that spirit of meek submission to the will of Heaven which looks upward in the hour of trial, not doubting that the all-wise God knows best what is for the good of his children. If she believed that misfortunes were all for the best, it was only an impulse derived from the story of her father; a kind of philosophy which was very convenient for the evil day, because it permitted the sufferer to lie down and take things easily. It was not a filial trust in the wisdom and mercy of the heavenly Father that sustained her as the clouds grew thicker and blacker around her; it was only a cold indifference, a feeling of the head rather than the heart.
But Mrs. Redburn had been reading the New Testament during Katy's absence, and a better and purer spirit pervaded her soul than when the weight of the blow first struck so heavily upon her. She was well educated, and capable of reasoning in a just manner over her misfortunes; and those words on the watch seemed to convey a new meaning to her, as she considered them in the light of Christian revelation. They were not the basis of a cold philosophy; they assured her of the paternal care of God. The thought strengthened and revived her, and when Katy appeared to announce a new trial, she received the intelligence with calmness, and felt more ready than ever before to leave her destiny in the hands of Heaven. For an hour she conversed with Katy on this subject, and succeeded in giving her some new views in relation to the meaning of the words she had so often repeated that afternoon.
The poor girl felt as she had never felt before. Upon her devolved the responsibility of providing for her mother. She had no other friend, and that day seemed to open a new era in her existence. She felt strong for the work before her, and resolved to lose not a single day in putting her resolution into operation. The teachings of her mother, breathing a spirit of piety and resignation, were grateful to her heart, and added new strength to her arm.
There was still food enough in the house for Katy's supper, for her mother could not eat, though she drank a cup of tea. The morning sun would shine upon them again, bringing another day of want and wretchedness, but the poor girl banished her fears, trusting for the morrow to Him who feedeth the hungry raven, and tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb.
She laid her head upon her pillow that night, not to sleep for many a weary hour, but to think of the future; not of its sorrows and treasured ills, but of the golden opportunities it would afford her to do something for her sick mother. At one o'clock the next day Dr. Flynch would come for the rent again and her mother could not pay him. She felt assured he was cold and cruel enough to execute his wicked threat to turn them out of the house, though her mother had not been off her bed for many weeks.
What could be done? They could not pay the rent; that was impossible; and she regarded it as just as impossible to melt the heart of Dr. Flynch. But long before she went to sleep she had decided what to do.
Worn out with fatigue and anxiety, she did not wake till a late hour; and her mother, who had kept a weary vigil all night, was glad to see her sleep so well, and did not arouse her. She was refreshed by her deep slumbers, and got up feeling like a new creature. She had scarcely made a fire and put on the tea-kettle, before a knock at the door startled her. Who could wish to see them in their poverty and want?--who but some evil person, coming to heap some new grief upon them? She scarcely had the courage to open the door, but when she did so, she saw the smiling face of Tommy Howard.
"Good morning, Katy," said he, as he handed her a little basket he had brought. "Mother sent this over, and wants to know how Mrs. Redburn does to-day."
"She is about the same. What is in this basket, Tommy?"
"O, you know;" and he turned to run away.
"Stop a minute, Tommy," called Katy. "I want to speak to you."
"Well, what is it?"
"You haven't told anybody about it--have you?"
"About what?"
"What I told you yesterday," replied Katy, hanging her head with shame.
"What do you mean?"
"That we had nothing to eat," and Katy blushed as though it was a crime to be hungry and have nothing to eat.
"Not a soul--catch me! that is, I hain't told nobody but mother."
"I am sorry you did, even her. My mother is very proud, if she is poor; but she wasn't always so poor as she is now, for she is the daughter of a rich merchant."
"You don't say so."
"Yes, I do, Tommy; so please don't say a word about it to anybody but your mother, and ask her not to mention it."
"Not a word, Katy, mother won't say a word either."
"And sometime I'll tell you all about it. Thank you for what's in the basket, Tommy."
Without waiting for anything more, the noble, generous boy leaped down the stairs and passed out at the front door.
"What have you got there, Katy?" asked Mrs. Redburn, as she entered the room with the basket in her hand.
"Something Mrs. Howard sent us," she replied, as she opened the basket, and took out a plate of butter and half a dozen hot biscuit, which she carried to the bedside for her mother's inspection.
"What have you done, my child?" exclaimed the poor woman, a flush gathering on her pale cheek. "Have you told the neighbors that we have nothing to eat?"
"I couldn't help telling Tommy when I asked for the flounders yesterday; he told his mother, but no one else knows it."
