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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Betty's Battles, by S. L. M.
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Betty's Battles
+       an Everyday Story
+
+Author: S. L. M.
+
+Release Date: January 1, 2011 [EBook #34805]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY'S BATTLES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow, Julia Neufeld, Lindy Walsh and
+the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "How can I ever go!" cries Betty
+                                 (_See page 1_]
+
+
+
+
+BETTY'S BATTLES
+
+_AN EVERYDAY STORY_
+
+BY S. L. M.
+_Author of "Jabez the Unlucky"_
+
+PREFACE BY MRS. BRAMWELL BOOTH
+
+[Illustration]
+
+_Illustrated by Gertrude M. Bradley_
+
+THE SALVATIONIST PUBLISHING AND SUPPLIES, LTD.
+
+LONDON: 117-121 Judd Street, King's Cross, W.C. 1
+GLASGOW: 38 Bath Street
+MELBOURNE: 69 Bourke Street
+NEW YORK: 120 West Fourteenth Street
+TORONTO: Albert Street
+CAPE TOWN: Loop Street
+WELLINGTON: Cuba Street
+SIMLA: The Mall
+
+
+
+
+MADE AND PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
+BY THE CAMPFIELD PRESS, ST. ALBANS
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+I have derived real pleasure from the reading of "Betty's Battles,"
+because I am sure if we can only get it into the hands of other
+"Bettys," that they will be inspired and helped to take up arms in their
+own cause, and fight, as Betty did, for the love and peace and
+orderliness of their own dear homes.
+
+I think a fact is revealed in this story which is not actually
+transcribed in black and white. It is that the Grandmother--through
+staying with whom Betty had been so much blessed and helped--bore the
+same surname as Betty's father. For if she had brought up Betty's
+mother, I am quite sure there never could have been so much difficulty
+in the home as was the case when Betty returned from her holiday!
+
+This little book will, I believe, help our Young People to realise their
+responsibility towards their own homes and their fathers and mothers.
+
+Nothing is more grievous at the present time in many countries where
+civilisation is most advanced, than the decay of all that which is
+precious and beautiful in home life. There are many causes which have
+contributed to this, to which I cannot allude here; but there is one
+remedy which by the blessing of God cannot fail. It is that our young
+women should be enlightened and trained to acknowledge and to carry
+their responsibilities for that work which God has committed to women.
+
+Undoubtedly, it is God's arrangement that women should beautify and
+adorn the home. A home is an absolute necessity to her; and only by the
+retirement and protection of a good home, can women ever be fitted to
+train and mould the nation's youth. As a wise, far-seeing writer has
+said: "It is not too much to say that the prosperity or adversity of a
+nation rests in the hands of its women. They are the mothers of the men;
+they make and mould the characters of their sons, and the centre of
+their influence should be, as Nature intended it to be, the home. Home
+is the pivot round which the wheel of a country's highest statesmanship
+should revolve; the preservation of home, its interests, its duties and
+principles, should be the aim of every good citizen.... A happy home is
+the best and surest safeguard against all evil; and where home is not
+happy, there the Devil may freely enter and find his hands full. With
+women, and women only, this happiness in the home must find its
+foundation."
+
+I believe in the successful mission of this little book, and wish it
+good speed.
+
+                                                    Florence E. Booth
+
+    _November 1907_
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+         CHAP.                                    PAGE
+
+           I.     "GOOD-BYE, GRANNIE"               1
+
+          II.     HOME AGAIN                        7
+
+         III.     THE BATTLES BEGIN                19
+
+          IV.     BETTY'S BIRTHDAY                 31
+
+           V.     REAL TROUBLE                     48
+
+          VI.     FOR FATHER'S SAKE                59
+
+         VII.     DAY BY DAY                       71
+
+        VIII.     THE CAPTAIN                      83
+
+          IX.     A PLACE FOR EVERY ONE            95
+
+           X.     A QUARREL                       107
+
+          XI.     FATHER AT HOME                  123
+
+         XII.     LUCY                            129
+
+        XIII.     COMRADES                        140
+
+         XIV.     BETTY'S BIRTHDAY ONCE MORE      147
+
+
+
+
+BETTY'S BATTLES
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+"GOOD-BYE, GRANNIE"
+
+
+"Oh, Grannie, how sweet it all is here! How can I ever go!" cries Betty.
+
+Betty's bag stands by the gate. Betty herself roams restlessly about the
+little garden, while Betty's Grannie shades her gentle old eyes from the
+morning sunshine, and peers down the road.
+
+Betty's bag is stout and bulgy; stuffed full of Grannie's home-made
+goodies, including a big plum-cake, and pots of delicious jam.
+
+Betty herself is not stout at all; indeed, she is rather thin. She came
+to Grannie's country home, five weeks ago, to grow strong again after a
+bad illness; but though the moorland breezes have brought colour back to
+her cheeks, and strength to her long limbs, they have given no plumpness
+to either.
+
+Betty's Grannie--well, she _is_ Grannie, a true Army Grannie, with a
+heart large enough to take in everybody's troubles, and a spirit wise
+enough to find a cure for most of them.
+
+"The carrier's cart is a little later than usual," remarks Grannie,
+still peering down the road; "but don't worry, you've plenty of time to
+do the ten miles to the station; and Bob the carrier will see you safe
+into the express. Of course, your father will meet you when the train
+arrives, so you've nothing to trouble about, dear."
+
+"Nothing to trouble about!" Betty turns round quickly. "Oh, Grannie,
+it's leaving _you_ that troubles me so dreadfully--how can I go--how
+_can_ I, when I'm only just beginning to understand?"
+
+During these five weeks Betty has grown to love her dear good Grannie as
+she never loved anyone before, for, week by week, day by day, Grannie
+has been bringing her nearer and nearer to God.
+
+"Last night, dear child, you gave your heart into the Lord's keeping,"
+says Grannie softly, laying a loving hand on the girl's shoulder, "and
+He is with those who trust Him always, wherever they may go."
+
+"Yes, I know, Grannie; and while I'm with you it seems so easy to do
+right--and though you are so wise and good, you never get cross with me
+when I make mistakes, or answer too sharply--but, Oh, it is so
+different--so very different at home! Whatever shall I do without you?"
+
+And Betty flings her arms round the old woman's neck, and clings to her
+as though she would never let her go.
+
+"Your home is God's gift to you, Betty," says Grannie, gravely.
+
+"My home? Grannie, it's _horrid_ at home sometimes! The rooms are so
+stuffy, and dark, and untidy, and I hate untidy rooms! The children are
+always quarrelling, and they shout and stamp until my head aches and
+aches, and mother never seems to care. If only it were pretty and clean
+and fresh like this place--if only mother were like you!"
+
+But Grannie's face grows graver still.
+
+"Hush, hush, Betty! Indeed, you must not allow yourself to run on in
+this way. Remember, you have given yourself to God now, and you must do
+the work He puts into your hands bravely and well.
+
+"Of course, it is easier to be cheerful and good when there is nothing
+to try us. Of course, it is easier to carry a light burden than a heavy
+one. Your father is poor, and there are many little ones. Your mother
+has struggled through long years of weary work and anxiety. It is your
+part to be their help and comfort, Betty."
+
+"I will try, indeed, I will; and I'll try to remember all you've told
+me, all the dear beautiful talks we've had together, and--and last
+night, Gran."
+
+"That's my own darling!"
+
+"Yes, I'm really going to be good now, and patient, and unselfish, and
+I'll help mother, and teach the children, and make our home as sweet as
+your home is. But, Oh, dear Grannie, if you could only see our home--it
+makes me so cross, for nobody even tries to help, and they are all so
+careless, and snap one up so."
+
+Betty stops short, there is a queer little twinkle in Grannie's eye that
+is almost like a question.
+
+"Oh, yes, I know. _I_ am snappy sometimes; but they are all so unjust.
+When I try to put things straight a bit, Bob is sure to say I've lost
+some of his books; and, Grannie, it isn't 'interfering' is it to tell
+people of a thing when you know it's wrong?"
+
+"It may be 'interfering' even to put things straight, dear, unless you
+are very careful to let love do the seeing, and speaking, and doing.
+
+"Courage, Betty! You were very weak and listless when you came five
+weeks ago; and your heart was heavy and sad. Now you are my own strong
+Betty again. And the Lord has come to dwell in your heart and take its
+sadness away.
+
+"Let Him reign in your heart, Betty; give Him the whole of it. In His
+strength you will learn to check the 'snappy' words when they rise to
+your lips; to conquer the discontented thoughts and careless habits. You
+will learn to be happy and bright, and to make all those around you
+happy too."
+
+But Betty thinks, "Clearly Grannie doesn't know how horrid things are at
+home sometimes; if mother would only let me manage altogether it
+wouldn't be half so difficult."
+
+"The carrier's cart, my child!"
+
+Betty lifts her head from Grannie's shoulder and hastily wipes her eyes.
+
+The cart stops; the bulgy bag, the paper parcel, and big bunch of
+sweet-smelling, old-fashioned flowers are lifted in. Betty turns to
+Grannie for the final kiss.
+
+"Remember, dear, the little crosses of daily life, borne bravely and
+cheerfully for Jesus' sake, will make you a true Soldier, and win a
+crown of glory by and by," whispers Grannie, as she presses her
+grandchild in her kind arms.
+
+Betty nods, and then turns her head away very quickly; she dare not
+trust herself to speak.
+
+The cart moves away. Yes, now, indeed, her holiday is over!
+
+The blue sky, the golden gorse, the fresh, sweet air of the moors, they
+are still around her, but they belong to her no more.
+
+Through a mist of tears she looks back at the little cottage where she
+has been so happy; Grannie still stands by the gate--round that turn in
+the road beyond is the village, and the little Salvation Army Hall,
+where Grannie goes every Sunday.
+
+It was at the close of the Meeting last night that she gave her heart to
+God. Then afterwards, in her dear little bedroom, with her head buried
+in Grannie's lap, she felt so strong, so sure--and now?
+
+"Oh, dear; Oh, dear," she sobs, "it is all so different at home!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+HOME AGAIN
+
+
+Betty dries her tears, and looks up.
+
+She is in the train now, speeding towards the great, smoky city, where
+she has lived nearly all her life.
+
+She watches the fields and woods flying past, and her thoughts are sad.
+
+Already Grannie seems far away. The little white cottage is hidden among
+those great moors yonder. She can see them still, although they are
+growing fainter every minute, fading into the blue of the sky.
+
+"Dear Grannie! how good she has been to me--how happy I have been with
+her!"
+
+She pulls a little Bible out of her pocket. Grannie put it into her
+hands as she gave her the first kiss this morning.
+
+"I will read it every morning and evening," she thinks, "just as Grannie
+does. When I see the words I shall remember the very sound of her voice
+and the look in her dear eyes. That will help me so much."
+
+The thought comforts her, and she looks about more cheerfully.
+
+"Grannie has promised to write to me, and I'm to write to her. How I
+shall love her letters! I know just how she'll write--she is so wise and
+strong, and yet so loving and kind. But what sort of letters shall I
+write to Grannie?
+
+"Why, of course, I must tell her all my troubles, and how hard I am
+fighting--_so_ hard! Then she must know everything about the wonderful
+victories I mean to win. How pleased she will be! I shall have plenty of
+battles to fight, for home is horrid sometimes--it really is.
+
+"There's Bob; when Bob is in one of his teasing fits it's almost
+impossible to keep one's temper. But _I_ mean to do it. Bob shall have
+to own that he _can't_ make me cross.
+
+"Then I do believe Clara is the most trying servant in the whole world.
+Well, I'm going to teach her that a dirty face and torn apron are a real
+disgrace, and I'll show her how to keep the kitchen just as Grannie
+keeps hers.
+
+"I do wish I could persuade mother to keep the sitting-room tidier, and
+finish her house-work in the morning, and do her hair before dinner. If
+she'd only let me manage everything, I believe I should get on much
+better.
+
+"Jennie and Pollie must learn to sew, and Harry to read, and Lucy really
+must leave her perpetual poring over books and take an interest in her
+home like other girls. And father--dear old father!--he shall have all
+his meals at the proper time, instead of scrambling through them at the
+last minute; and I'll keep his socks mended, and his handkerchiefs
+ironed. Yes, Grannie's quite right--there are heaps of battles to fight
+every day. I'll fight them, too; I'll manage everything; I'll be more
+than conqueror! Oh, how surprised and glad she will be!"
+
+And Betty sinks back in her seat with quite a self-satisfied smile.
+
+And still the fields fly past; they are flatter now; the woods have
+disappeared, and every now and then the engine rushes screaming through
+the station of a large town.
+
+Betty eats her lunch of Grannie's apples and home-made cake. She is sad
+no longer. The battle-field is before her; she is eager for the fight.
+
+"I'm _glad_ now that things are so tiresome at home; there is so much
+more for me to put right. What a change I'll make in everything!"
+
+All her doubts have vanished; she is sure of success. As for failure and
+defeat, that is clearly impossible!
+
+It is late in the afternoon before long lines of houses, stretching away
+in every direction, begin to warn her that she is nearing home.
+
+Be sure her head is out of the window long before the train draws up at
+the well-known platform, and her eyes are eagerly straining to catch the
+earliest possible glimpse of father's face. For Betty loves her father
+dearly.
+
+There he is! The platform is crowded, but she sees him directly. He sees
+her, too, and, pushing his way through the crowd, he opens the carriage
+door, and she springs into his arms.
+
+"Aye, Betty, my girl, I'm glad to see you back again!" he says; that is
+all. But John Langdale is a man of few words, and this is a great deal
+from him.
+
+[Illustration: "How did you leave your Grannie?"]
+
+He shoulders her bag, and makes his way through the pile of luggage,
+the bustling porters, and anxious passengers, Betty following as best
+she can.
+
+Her head feels giddy and bewildered after the long train journey, and
+the noise, and hurry, and smoky air, all is so different from the quiet
+country scenes she left eight hours ago.
+
+Her father does not speak again until they are safely seated on the top
+of a homeward-bound bus; and even then, before he speaks a word, he
+turns to his daughter, and looks searchingly in her face.
+
+There is a change in Betty's face that tells of more than the mere
+return of health and strength.
+
+"Aye, well, my girl!" he says softly.
+
+Betty smiles confidingly into his eyes, and nestles closer to his side.
+
+He half smiles in return, and then turns away with a sigh. For he
+thinks, "It is the country air and her Grannie's care that have made
+such a change in my Betty, and now she will have neither."
+
+"Well, how did you leave your Grannie?" he says aloud.
+
+"Oh, ever so well! And she sent lots of love and messages--and other
+things--for the children, you know. The other things are in the bag. Be
+careful you don't smash the jam-pots! I'll tell you the messages as I
+remember them. And the love--Oh, father, Grannie showed me what real
+love is; and, father, I----" Betty comes to a full stop.
+
+"Well, well, my girl, what is it?" asks her father, turning his eyes
+inquiringly to her face.
+
+"Grannie has taught me so many things," she goes on, in a low voice,
+"and somehow, without saying much, she made me understand how selfish I
+have been; how through all these years I have been trying to do without
+God. And--and she took me to The Army Meetings, and last night I--I
+asked God to forgive me and make me as good as Grannie."
+
+Betty's voice has sunk to the merest whisper, but father hears it above
+all the roar of the traffic.
+
+"That's right, my girl. God bless you, Betty!" he says, heartily, and
+now at last a bright smile lights up his careworn face.
+
+"Here we are!" says father, presently, and he signals to the driver. The
+bus pulls up at the entrance to a small street, father shoulders the
+bag, and Betty, scrambling down after him, soon finds herself standing
+on the shabby little front doorstep of her home.
+
+A narrow, dull street it is; closely packed with dull houses, all built
+in one pattern, all alike grey with smoke, all looking as though no
+breath of spring air, or gleam of spring sunshine, could ever find their
+way through the close-shut windows.
+
+All too swiftly Betty's thoughts travel back to the white cottage in the
+hills, to the sunny garden, the fresh moorland breezes.
+
+The contrast is too much for her; a big lump seems to rise in her
+throat. Her eyes fill with tears; her good resolutions fade away.
+
+She doesn't want to be at home--Oh, that she were with Grannie now!
+
+Father has found his key at last, and fits it into the lock. At the same
+moment there is a rush of noisy feet within, the loud clamour of excited
+voices. Directly the door is flung open Betty is surrounded by a
+boisterous crowd of younger brothers and sisters--they seize her, they
+dance round her, shouting out their rough welcome.
+
+"We knew it was you! Mother, here's our Betty! Come along, Betty." And
+they almost drag her down the passage into the family sitting-room.
+
+Tea is set on the round table. Betty's quick eye notices that the tray
+is slopped with milk, and the stained cloth askew. "How different from
+Grannie's tea-table," she thinks bitterly.
+
+"Where's mother?" she asks, after kissing her brothers and sisters all
+round.
+
+"She was rather late to-day, and so she's only just gone upstairs to
+tidy herself," explains Lucy. Lucy is next in age to Betty. "You mustn't
+go up, she'll be down in a minute."
+
+"This bag feels pretty heavy," exclaims Bob, the eldest boy, "anything
+good in it, Betty?" and he begins fumbling at the fastening.
+
+"My flowers--Oh, Bob, do be careful!" cries Betty, rushing to the rescue
+of her daffodils and wallflowers. How sweet and fresh they looked this
+morning, how crushed and faded now!
+
+"You careless boy; you've broken the stalks off ever so many! Put the
+bag down. Oh, dear, why isn't mother here! Father's washing his hands, I
+suppose. Lucy, do ask mother to make haste; here's the kettle boiling
+away, and the tea not in the pot or anything." Betty is growing more
+irritable every minute; but now mother appears.
+
+"Well, Betty, here you are at last, then."
+
+Mrs. Langdale is a large, fair-haired woman. Her gown is only
+half-fastened, and stray wisps of hair are hanging round her face. This
+is nothing unusual, for Betty's mother is scarcely ever neatly dressed.
+
+Betty knows this well enough. It would be well if she understood the
+look of love in her mother's eyes as clearly as she sees the untidiness
+of her mother's dress.
+
+"Well, Betty, I'm glad to have you back again, that I am; there's so
+much to be done in this house, and time slips away so. Now, to-day, I
+really made up my mind to have everything ready by the time you came in,
+but what with one thing and another--Pollie, take your fingers out of
+the sugar-bowl, you naughty child--Jennie, fetch the knives, they're in
+the scullery, I forgot them; make haste now! Can't you see your sister
+wants her tea?"
+
+She pushes a few loose tags of hair out of her eyes, and begins making
+the tea, talking all the time.
+
+"Well, my dear, did your Grannie send any message to me? What sort of
+journey did you have? How did those boots wear? Now did you----?"
+
+"Betty's too tired to talk just yet, I think," interposes her father,
+coming in that moment. "She'll tell us everything after tea."
+
+Indeed, Betty does feel dreadfully tired. The noise and confusion
+bewilder her. Every one seems to be talking at once. It is all so
+different from the quiet orderliness of Grannie's home.
+
+The knives are brought at last, the tea made, and for awhile the younger
+children are too busy with their bread and butter even for talk.
+
+Tea over, however, the tumult begins afresh. The tea-things are just
+pushed to one side of the table, and then mother begins to unpack the
+bag.
+
+Shrieks of delight greet the various packages, the table is soon strewn
+with Grannie's good things. The paper is torn from the cake; Bob seizes
+on a great pot of blackberry jam, bumps against a chair and drops the
+pot with a crash to the floor. The sticky mess, mixed with broken glass,
+spreads slowly over the carpet.
+
+"There you go, you tiresome boy!" cries mother fretfully. "Always
+smashing something, always spoiling things. If you eat a bit of it
+you'll swallow broken glass, and serve you right. Lucy, ask Clara for a
+duster and pail of water to mop up the mess. Who told you to touch that
+cake, Pollie? Jennie, how dare you meddle with the honey--you'll overset
+that next! I don't believe there ever were such rude, tiresome,
+disobedient children! I'm sure I don't know what to do with you all.
+Harry, Jennie, Pollie, I _won't_ have that cake eaten to-night! You
+shall all just pack off to bed."
+
+The younger children sober down a little at this threat, and presently,
+between coaxings, and slappings, and the promise of unlimited cake
+to-morrow, they go off noisily to bed.
+
+How thankful Betty is when she manages at last to escape to her own
+little room, and lays her weary head on her pillow!
+
+She is utterly tired out. Too tired to remember any of her good
+resolutions; too tired even to think.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE BATTLES BEGIN
+
+
+The morning is bright and clear, and just one glint of sunshine has
+actually found its way into the room. Betty sits up in bed. She has
+slept soundly all night, and feels thoroughly refreshed.
+
+Grannie's daffodils and wallflowers, carefully placed in a large glass
+on the little toilet-table, have lifted their drooping heads, and look
+almost as bright as they did yesterday morning in their far-away country
+home.
+
+"The battle is to begin to-day," Betty thinks, as she springs lightly
+out of bed. "Yes, to-day I am to begin to change everything in this
+untidy, stuffy old house--to-day I must commence the fight that is not
+to end until I have made it a really bright, cosy home.
+
+"Half-past six! I shouldn't wonder if Clara hasn't got up yet; she's
+such a lazy girl in the mornings. Never mind, I'll soon shame her out
+of that. One of the very first things I have to do is to make every one
+in this house understand that they _must_ get up early in the morning."
+
+Betty's mind is so full of this grand idea that she quite forgets to ask
+the Lord for His blessing and guidance during the day.
+
+Lucy is sleeping peacefully on her pillow by the side of the bed that
+Betty has just left. This will never do.
+
+"Come, Lucy, wake up!" and she shakes her by the arm.
+
+Lucy opens her blue eyes, and blinks at her sleepily. "It isn't time to
+get up yet; it can't be," she murmurs.
+
+"Yes, it is. You've all got into fearfully lazy habits in this house.
+While I was with Grannie I always got up at half-past six."
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighs Lucy, ruefully.
+
+"Now, make haste. Those children are going to be _properly_ washed and
+combed before they go to school this morning; it's a disgrace to see
+them sometimes."
+
+"Well, I suppose it is," admits Lucy. "But aren't you dreadfully tired,
+Betty, after yesterday?"
+
+"If I am, I'm not going to let that stand in the way of doing my duty,"
+answers Betty loftily.
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighs Lucy, feeling quite guilty because she would so much
+rather stay in bed one extra half-hour.
+
+But the stern resolution in Betty's face shows no signs of relenting,
+and she begins to dress.
+
+Betty splashes vigorously in the cold water, combs her hair back until
+not a single hair is out of place, and runs downstairs.
+
+Clara, the little maid-of-all-work, is sleepily laying the kitchen fire.
+Her dirty apron has a great "jag" all across the front, and her tumbled
+cap is set all askew on her mass of dusty-looking hair.
+
+"What, the fire not alight yet? Really, Clara, this is too bad. How can
+you expect to get through your day's work well when you begin it so
+badly! Now just get that kettle to boil as soon as possible, and I'll
+prepare the porridge and haddock.
+
+"And, Clara, your face is as smutty as anything. Why don't you wash it
+properly? And your hair's just dreadful."
+
+Clara tosses her head indignantly, and mutters something about "never
+having time for anything in this house."
+
+"There's plenty of time for everything; it's all because you manage so
+badly," says Betty severely. "Where's the porridge-pot? Not cleaned; how
+shameful! And here's the frying-pan with all the fat in it. How can you
+expect to be ready in time at this rate?"
+
+Clara mutters that "Everything would be right enough if some folks would
+let her alone."
+
+Betty takes no notice of this just now, for Lucy appearing at this
+moment, she orders her off upstairs to wash and dress the younger
+children.
+
+By dint of a great deal of most energetic bustling on Betty's part, and
+sulky help from Clara, the breakfast is actually ready by eight o'clock,
+and the boys and younger girls sent off to school in good time. Betty
+feels greatly elated. "What a difference already!" she thinks.
+
+And father, coming in for breakfast, she hurries down to the kitchen for
+his fish and tea.
+
+Returning with the tray, she meets her mother coming downstairs.
+
+"What, Betty, up already? I made sure you would like to lie in bed a bit
+and hurried down early on purpose."
+
+"_Hurried_ down, mother! Why, I've been up since half-past six, and just
+sent the children off to school."
+
+"Dear me. Is it really so late? I made sure the clock struck eight only
+a few minutes ago."
+
+"Half an hour, at least, mother," answers Betty, sharply.
+
+"You're going by the kitchen clock--that's always wrong, you know."
+
+"Everything _is_ in this house, it seems to me," snaps Betty, and she
+carries father's breakfast into the sitting-room. Mother follows her.
+
+"Where's your father? Why, you don't mean to say you've finished
+breakfast? Good gracious me, Betty, the idea of having the window open!
+What a shocking draught, enough to blow one away, and I've had the
+face-ache all this week. Shut it down directly!"
+
+"It's a lovely fresh morning for this place, and air's better than
+anything. Grannie always has _her_ windows open," answers Betty in quite
+a hard voice.
+
+"Oh, I daresay; the country's different, and your Grannie is one of the
+strongest people I ever saw." And Mrs. Langdale glances nervously at the
+window.
+
+"But, mother, the room was horribly stuffy, and Grannie says----"
+
+"How dare you set your Grannie up against me in this way? If that's all
+you learned by being with her you'd far better have stayed at home."
+
+"But _any_ doctor would tell you----"
+
+"Look here, Betty, unless you close that window at once I won't stay in
+the room!" cries Mrs. Langdale, red with anger.
+
+Betty's face flushes also, and she bangs the window down in a fury.
+
+"There! And anybody who knows anything will tell you that's thoroughly
+wrong!" she cries.
+
+Perhaps so, Betty. But is there nothing wrong about your method of
+trying to put the mistake right?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Betty sits down hopelessly.
+
+She has been home just a week now, and things have gone from bad to
+worse.
+
+She has tried hard--in her own fashion, of course--she has been up early
+every morning, and bustled about all day. Yet all her grand ideas have
+resulted in nothing. It seems to her, as she sits there on the shabby
+little sofa, surrounded with piles of unmended stockings, that the
+members of her family are determined to fight against any kind of
+improvement.
+
+"They won't have the windows wide open; they won't get up early, or try
+to be tidy," she thinks, and her heart grows sore and bitter as she
+remembers the fruitless struggles of the past two or three days.
+
+"What _is_ the use of trying when no one seems to care whether things
+are properly done or not?"
+
+She glances round the room. The carpet is worn and frayed; the
+book-shelves dusty, the curtains faded and torn. Her eyes rest on the
+piles of unmended stockings. They have been there more than a week
+already.
+
+"How horrid it all is--how perfectly horrid! Why can't mother see that
+the whole house is a regular disgrace, and the children too--with their
+dirty hands and rough hair, and rude, noisy ways? But they won't obey
+me, though I scold them ever so--and no wonder, with mother always ready
+to take their part, and tell me not to be hard on them! Of course, they
+go away and forget everything directly. If mother would only leave them
+to me, I'd _make_ them mind!
+
+"Eleven o'clock striking, and mother hasn't been down to the kitchen to
+arrange about the dinner yet! There'll be nothing ready for the children
+again when they come in from school; and Clara will just muddle through
+her work as usual. Oh, dear, how sick I am of the whole thing!
+
+"If I could only live with Grannie--or even go out all day, and earn my
+living like other girls. I'm quick at figures. If I could be a clerk in
+the City, or something; at least, I should be away from this muddle most
+of the day. I should be independent, too, and able to buy things for the
+house when I see they're wanted--and that would help father. Nobody
+really understands me here, except father.
+
+"Bob was cruel to speak to me as he did this morning; and what I said
+was perfectly true--his hands _did_ look as though he hadn't washed them
+for a week. It was my duty to tell him that, and he had no right to fly
+in a rage, and say I was nagging. Nagging, indeed! Just because I told
+him that it was disgraceful and disgusting for a big boy to go about
+with dirty hands!
+
+[Illustration: "They make a good heap, don't they?"]
+
+"A quarter past, and mother still over the newspaper--and she told me
+she wouldn't be ten minutes! It's too bad. I know just what will
+happen. There'll be nothing ready, and Clara will be sent out for some
+tinned salmon or something at the last minute. No, I won't have it!"
+
+And Betty jumps up, all aglow with anger, and running down the passage,
+flings open the little front parlour door.
+
+"Mother!"--very sharply--"don't you know how late it is?"
+
+Mrs. Langdale looks up rather vacantly. "Late? how can you say so? I'm
+sure I haven't been here over a quarter of an hour."
+
+"You've been here a whole hour, and if you don't make the pudding at
+once the children will have to do without altogether!"
+
+"How you do hurry and flurry one, Betty. Well, I'll see to it."
+
+Betty goes back to the sitting-room.
+
+"I suppose I must begin at something," she sighs wearily--"not that it
+makes much difference."
+
+Again her eyes fall on the stockings. Hours of hard work would not get
+rid of that hopeless pile.
+
+On the first evening after her return home, whilst as yet all her good
+resolutions were hot in her, she had mended and put away all father's
+socks; but since then there has seemed no time for anything.
+
+"I must mend all those stockings to-morrow," mother has said each night;
+but there the matter has ended.
+
+Shall she mend some now? or dust? or wash the curtains? or----
+
+The door is flung open, and Clara comes in with a fresh armful of socks
+and stockings, barely dry from the kitchen.
+
+"Missis says I'm to put these with the rest," she giggles, in her
+irritating way. "They make a good heap, don't they?"
+
+That is the last straw. Betty waits until she is out of the room, and
+then gives way altogether.
+
+"I can't bear it--I just can't!" she whispers, tapping her foot on the
+floor. "Grannie didn't know what it would be like when she said all that
+about loving one's home. I must get away from it--I must!"
+
+The door opens again. "Oh, Betty, I just want you to--why, child, what
+is the matter? Are you going to be ill again?"
+
+"No, of course not!" Betty's heart had grown softer as she thought of
+her Grannie; but she hardens it directly she hears her mother's voice.
+
+"No, only everything's so horrid at home that I mean to ask father to
+let me learn typing."
+
+"Betty, how can you be so ungrateful! Just because things are a bit
+behindhand--and that through your being away so long! There, I didn't
+think it of you!" And Mrs. Langdale goes angrily out of the room.
+
+Betty had certainly not thought of it in this light. Indeed, she has
+been thinking of little lately, save how to get things done in her own
+way.
+
+"What could Grannie mean by talking as though I could become a real
+power for good in my home?" she thinks bitterly. "I've tried, and tried,
+and things only get worse and worse; and I've made Bob angry, and the
+children cross, and vexed mother besides. Grannie must have been wrong
+after all!"
+
+Was Grannie wrong? Or is it just possible there is still something wrong
+with Betty herself?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+BETTY'S BIRTHDAY
+
+
+"To-day is my birthday."
+
+That is Betty's first thought when she awakes next morning, and the
+remembrance soothes and pleases her.
+
+"Surely, Bob will not be cross with me to-day. Surely, father will smile
+when he kisses me, and mother will make a real effort to finish her work
+earlier. But Grannie's letter will be best of all--a long letter it is
+certain to be, and, perhaps, a box of sweet country flowers
+besides--those I brought from her little garden are all dead now."
+
+Betty's heart feels lighter than it has for some days past, and she runs
+downstairs quite briskly.
+
+How eagerly she listens for the postman's knock as she helps Clara
+prepare the breakfast! "Ah, he's in the street now--I can hear his
+'rat-tats'--they're coming nearer. Now he's next door----"
+
+Alas, for poor Betty! The next knock is at the house on the other side.
+
+She darts upstairs. No, there is no letter on the door-mat; there is no
+letter coming to her at all! Grannie has forgotten the day. Betty could
+cry with disappointment and vexation.
+
+But this is only the beginning.
+
+Jennie, Pollie, and Harry never remember any birthdays save their
+own--she had expected nothing from them. But Lucy and Bob, it is hard
+indeed that _they_ should take no notice of this all-important day which
+makes her just fifteen years old.
+
+Worse still, Bob is in a thoroughly bad humour; and Lucy, having fallen
+asleep after Betty awakened her this morning, is ashamed of herself, and
+eats her breakfast in silence.
+
+Not a word does Betty say to remind them. She is longing intensely for a
+birthday greeting, but nothing would make her confess it.
+
+"I shouldn't have forgotten _their_ birthdays," she thinks bitterly. "I
+thought they didn't really care much about me, and this proves it."
+
+"You needn't look at me like that!" cries Bob sharply. "I shan't wash
+my hands any oftener for you, Miss Particular, in spite of all your
+naggings!" and he snatches up his cap, and clatters out of the room,
+banging the door after him.
+
+Soon after father comes in for his breakfast. Betty looks up eagerly.
+Alas! he also has forgotten.
+
+After this, mother's forgetfulness is not surprising. She, too, takes
+her breakfast almost in silence, and disappears into the kitchen rather
+earlier than usual.
+
+Betty's heart is very sore as she sets about her morning work. Her head
+aches, and she feels tired all over. She has just tidied the fireplace
+when mother enters.
+
+"The kitchen-range is smoking again, Betty. I'm not going to have any
+more of it, so I've sent Clara for the sweep."
+
+Betty is horrified. "Why, mother, there's no dinner cooked--not even a
+bit of pudding!"
+
+"Well, we'll have to make do with this fire--it can't be helped."
+
+This is too much. Betty knows what "having the sweep in" means.
+
+"Why couldn't you wait until to-morrow?" she breaks out angrily. "It's
+too bad--that it is! Isn't everything horrid enough already without
+this?"
+
+And she covers her face with her hands, and bursts into a passion of
+tears.
+
+"Why, Betty--Betty, for goodness' sake, don't--what can be the matter?"
+
+"It's my birthday!" cries Betty, "and you've all forgotten--and I _did_
+think things would be better to-day, and now they'll be worse than
+ever!"
+
+"Your birthday, child? So it is, I declare! Well, I can't think how I
+came to forget it! If I'd thought now, I would have tidied up a bit--but
+there's so much to do in this house--just no end to it, and yet there's
+no peace, and everything in a muddle----"
+
+"It's all because no one _wants_ things to be better!" sobs Betty.
+
+"If you mean me, Betty, let me tell you you've no right to speak like
+that to your mother----"
+
+"I mean everybody! I just hate everything, _everything_!" cries Betty,
+stamping her foot, and sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Langdale is alarmed.
+
+She forgets her own grievance directly, in true motherly anxiety.
+
+"Come, come, Betty, don't give way like this; you've been working too
+hard, my dear; keeping too close to the house. Clara and I will manage
+the sweep; just put on your hat, and go for a walk."
+
+"I can't, my head aches dreadfully," sobs Betty.
+
+"Then you must lie down a bit. Come, come, you'll make yourself quite
+ill."
+
+Betty's head is aching so badly now that she can scarcely think.
+Presently, lying on her bed, she grows calmer.
+
+What a dreadful failure she has made of it all! She has fought and
+struggled all the week, only to meet defeat at the end. What would
+Grannie say? How rudely she spoke to mother just now--Grannie wouldn't
+approve of that.
+
+"But I couldn't help it, and I can't do anything to make things better,
+or the house nicer. The harder I try, the worse it all gets. I don't see
+any way out of it at all, but earning my own living, and letting them
+all go on as they like. I wonder what Grannie would say to such a plan?
+Well, I can't ask her, she's too far away; and, Oh, dear, dear, she's
+forgotten my birthday!"
+
+Worn out with crying and pain, presently Betty falls asleep.
+
+When she has slept for about an hour, a loud "rat-tat" at the street
+door awakens her. She jumps up. The postman! Of course, she had
+forgotten the twelve o'clock post. She flies downstairs, still dizzy
+with sleep. Mother and Clara have not heard the knock, they are busy in
+the kitchen.
+
+A letter and a parcel. Betty almost snatches them from the postman's
+hands, and scans them eagerly.
+
+Yes, it is Grannie's well-known hand-writing. How could she think dear
+Grannie would forget her!
+
+Betty hurries upstairs with her treasures. "A book--Grannie has sent me
+a book--that's just like Grannie; she knows I like reading better than
+anything."
+
+She strips off the brown paper with eager fingers. The book looks quite
+delightful; it is prettily bound, and nicely illustrated. Betty turns
+over the leaves rapidly, and her eyes fall on a picture that attracts
+her attention directly.
+
+By the open door of a rose-clad cottage stands a little maiden. She
+wears the quaint close cap and quilted petticoat of the olden time, and
+is eagerly looking at something which the dear old dame in front of her
+holds tightly clasped beneath the fingers of her right hand.
+
+Somehow, the cottage reminds Betty of Grannie's cottage. The old dame
+is certainly rather like Grannie, and the girl is, Oh, just about her
+own age!
+
+Did Grannie send the book because she also saw the resemblance?
+
+"I must find out," thinks Betty. "Mother doesn't want me--she said
+so--and my head still aches."
+
+So she lies down again, and begins to read, "The Talking-Bird: A
+Wonder-Tale."
+
+"It's a real lovely story; I can see that. I was rather afraid that a
+book from Grannie might be rather dry--she's so _very_ good."
+
+Poor Betty! She has a great deal to learn yet, that is evident. Really
+good people are not dull; books that are good and true can certainly
+never be "dry." Betty wants to be good, she wants to walk in the Narrow
+Way, and follow her Saviour faithfully; but it all seems such uphill
+work; doing one's duty is such a tiresome, wearisome business; trying to
+be good is such a dull, uninteresting affair.
+
+Her heart is still cold, you see; the fire of the Holy Spirit has not
+yet warmed it into loving life.
+
+So Betty begins to read. The rose-clad cottage looks sweet enough, but
+Betty soon finds that there is very little sweetness in the maiden's
+life. Poor Gerda's lot is a hard one. She is always at work. She must
+spin, and bake, and milk cows; yet her stepmother never seems pleased
+with her.
+
+Gerda's two brothers are out all day cutting wood in the great pine
+forests, but though she knits them warm stockings, and tries her best to
+cook them nice suppers, they never give her a smile, or a kiss, or a
+loving word. And Gerda says to herself:--
+
+"It does not matter how I work, or what I do, I can never please anybody
+at all."
+
+Betty pauses a moment. "How very like _my_ experience!" she thinks. "Of
+course, I have to do different work--mend horrid stockings for Bob
+instead of knitting them, and sweep and dust instead of spinning; but
+the effect of it all is just the same, and Bob is exactly like that. I
+do all I can to please him. I always make the porridge myself, because
+he says it's 'lumpy' when Clara does it, but never a word of thanks do I
+get. Why, he couldn't even trouble to remember that to-day is my
+birthday, and I saved up for weeks and weeks to buy _him_ a nice present
+on his birthday! It's too bad!"
+
+"Before Gerda's father married again," Betty reads on, "she had been
+allowed to manage the house as she pleased" ("I wish I was"), "but now
+everything is changed. Gerda loved to rise with the sun, and scour the
+kitchen floor with white sand before breakfast, and polish all the brass
+pans until they shone like gold" ("I don't sand floors or polish pans,
+but that's just how I feel about getting my work done early"), "but her
+stepmother liked hot cakes for breakfast, and as she would not rise
+early enough to bake them herself, Gerda had to leave her work and cook
+cakes instead; and because no one seemed to care for her, or notice how
+hard she had to work, she grew more discontented, and fretful, and
+unhappy every day; and meantime all around her became more difficult and
+sad."
+
+"Oh, dear, that's exactly like me!" sighs Betty.
+
+Then she goes on to read how a strange little old woman, in a big red
+cloak, came to the cottage door one day. Her eyes were blue as the sky,
+and she carried a flat basket slung over one arm.
+
+"Gerda thought she had come to sell ribbons and pins, and turned to shut
+the door; but the old dame stopped her smilingly. 'I have come to
+_give_, and not to sell,' she said.
+
+"'You have been fretting, my child, and it's troubled you are, and sore
+and bitter you are feeling against those who fret you. Eh, my dear, I'll
+soon better that!' and her blue eyes seemed to dance with the knowledge
+of some happy secret.
+
+"But Gerda stood quite dumb with amazement.
+
+"Then the old dame raised her folded hand towards Gerda, and unclasped
+it a little.
+
+"'Oh, how sweet!' she cried. There, in the old woman's hand, nestled a
+tiny bird. Its feathers were red as the heart of a rose, and its eyes
+shone like diamonds.
+
+"'It is for you. My bird will stay with you as long as you need him, and
+smooth all the fret of your life away.'
+
+"Gerda stretched out eager hands towards the beautiful bird. 'Oh,' she
+cried, 'if that could only come true!'
+
+[Illustration: "'Oh, how sweet!' she cried."]
+
+"'It will come true, my child, if you do as I bid you. You must allow my
+bird to perch on your shoulder, and be with you wherever you go. He is a
+talking bird, and whenever you are tempted to give an angry answer, or
+speak a bitter word'--Gerda hung her head; alas! she knew that this
+would be very often--'you must let the bird speak for you. Only do this,
+and in a few months you will be the happiest girl in the world.'
+
+"'But what will people say?' stammered Gerda, quite bewildered.
+
+"'Directly my bird touches your shoulder he will become invisible; _you_
+will feel him, but no one will see him; and when he speaks, his voice
+will be so like yours that no one can tell the difference. Your part is
+to keep down the angry words that rise to your lips. My sweet bird will
+do the rest,' and she kissed the bird's bright eyes, and placed him
+gently on Gerda's shoulder, and, behold! though she could feel the light
+fluttering of feathers against her cheek, she could see nothing."
+
+"What can be the meaning of this--what is the bird going to do?" thinks
+Betty, as she hastily turns the page.
+
+Betty has quite forgotten her headache, and reads on:--
+
+"Just at that moment, Gerda saw her little pet kid jump quite over the
+wall of the yard where her father's fiercest watch-dog was chained. 'Oh,
+it will be killed!' she cried, and ran swiftly to the rescue. But when
+she returned with the kid in her arms, the old woman had gone. 'And I
+never thanked her! You tiresome creature--it was all your fault!'
+
+"That is what she began to say as she lifted her hand to beat the poor
+little kid, but at the same instant she felt the invisible bird
+fluttering at her cheek again, and, lo and behold! a voice--a voice
+exactly like her own, only much sweeter--struck in ere she could finish
+the sentence: 'Poor little kid, you knew no better, and I am sure the
+old woman will understand I did not mean to be ungrateful--she had such
+kind, wise eyes.'
+
+"Certainly the words were much wiser than those she meant to use
+herself."
+
+That is only the beginning. The story goes on to tell how Gerda's life
+is altered altogether through the gentle, loving words spoken by the
+bird in her stead; how her brothers grow to love her, and are never so
+happy as when they can give her pleasure, bringing her home all sorts of
+treasures at the end of their day's work. Lilies from the valley, wild
+strawberries from the hill, honey from the woodbee's nest; how her
+stepmother becomes kind and thoughtful, and her father calls her the
+sunshine of the home--and all this because the old dame gave her that
+wonderful speaking-bird!
+
+Betty reads to the end, and closes the book with a sigh.
+
+"What a pity such things can't be true! Now, if _I_ had a lovely
+rose-coloured bird who would perch on my shoulder, and always say
+exactly the right thing in my place when I felt cross, or stupid, how
+different everything would be!
+
+"Dear me, what nonsense I am talking! It's just a pretty child's
+story--that is all--and I can't imagine why Grannie sent it to me. I
+haven't read her letter yet. Dear old Grannie--_she_ didn't forget my
+birthday. It was unkind of the others; just too bad, after all I've
+done. Well, I'll see how they like it themselves. I certainly shan't
+worry much about presents for other people's birthdays, if they won't
+even take the trouble to remember mine!"
+
+Betty rises, and, taking Grannie's letter to the window, begins to read.
+
+What love there is in the very first words--what a warm birthday
+greeting! Betty's eyes grow misty as she reads, and she holds the page
+to her lips for a moment.
+
+"Grannie _really_ loves me," she murmurs.
+
+"It is a long letter. Ah, here is something about the book! Dear me,
+what can Grannie mean?"
+
+"'Has my Betty guessed the _name_ of Gerda's speaking-bird yet? Has she
+discovered the secret of the happiness that came to the little maiden of
+the story?' ("No, indeed; how could I?") 'Does Gerda's story fit my dear
+Betty's own case?' ("Part of it does, of course.") 'Yes, for my Betty
+has troubles and trials; my Betty is tempted to think her own life is
+very hard and dull; is tempted to give up trying; is perhaps thinking of
+getting rid of the worry and fret by turning away from it all, and going
+out to work for herself?' ("Now, how could Grannie have found that out?
+I'm sure _I_ never said a word about being a typist while I was with
+her!")
+
+"'The bird's name was _Love_, Betty. The wonderful change in Gerda's
+life was brought about by pure, unselfish love.
+
+"'In all this world there is no force so strong as love, Betty--true
+love; the love that suffereth long and is kind; love that seeketh not
+her own, is not easily provoked; love that beareth all things, believeth
+all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things; the love that our
+Lord Jesus Christ gives to all those who truly love and follow Him.'"
+
+Love! Betty looks rather blank. Does Grannie mean that she isn't loving
+people enough?
+
+"'The little maiden in the story had been troubled and discontented, but
+after she listened to the voice of the Spirit of Love, and let it speak
+for her, all her trials vanished away. The story of Gerda's Bird is only
+a pretty tale, but, Betty, you are one of God's soldiers now, and the
+Spirit of Love has come to abide with you; to dwell in your heart, and
+speak to your soul. The Holy Spirit, dear, the Heavenly Dove; the Lord's
+best gift to you.
+
+"'Listen to it, Betty; let its voice speak for you. When sharp, unloving
+words rise to your lips, keep them fast closed until the Love within you
+can make itself heard.
+
+"'You want a happy home, my child; you long for the love of all those
+around you, but it is only by bringing the Lord into all your thoughts
+about your home, that it can be really happy--only by loving others very
+much that you can win true love in return.'"
+
+For a long time Betty stands by the window, thinking, thinking as she
+has never done before.
+
+"Is that _really_ the way out of it? Can love, and keeping one's temper,
+make all that difference? Of course, I know that Bob would like me
+better if I didn't scold when he is rough and careless; and I'm sure
+mother would rather I didn't worry her about the house being so untidy
+and badly managed. But then, if I _don't_ scold and worry, how can I get
+things into proper order?"
+
+Suddenly a bright thought, like a ray of pure light, darts into her
+mind--"Does Grannie mean me to work just as hard to make things nicer,
+but in a different way? To love everybody so much that I don't get cross
+when they seem careless and unreasonable?
+
+"Oh, have I been thinking too much of myself--of my own plans? Oh, dear
+Lord, help me, help me to seek the good of others, help me to suffer
+long and be kind; not to be easily provoked; help me to feel that my
+home and all within it are precious gifts from Thee!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+REAL TROUBLE
+
+
+Betty washes her face, brushes her hair, and runs downstairs; new
+courage thrilling her heart.
+
+"Yes, now, indeed, I will try what love can do! Now I really will keep
+my temper whatever happens; now love shall speak for me however
+aggravating things may be!"
+
+She feels so sure of herself; nevertheless, she has hardly been
+downstairs half a minute before she nearly slips into her old habits of
+irritation again.
+
+An ominous rumbling in the direction of the kitchen chimney announces
+that the sweep is still at work. The children's dinner-hour has nearly
+arrived, there is no dinner ready, and the sitting-room fire has not
+even been lighted.
+
+"What _was_ the use of telling me to go away and rest, and then
+forgetting all about the children's dinner in this way? It's too bad!
+I'd much rather have been without the rest altogether than be worried
+like this, and I shall just go and tell mother so--no, I won't."
+
+Betty stops short. Where are all the good resolutions she made not five
+minutes ago? Where is the Love she was to listen to, and learn from?
+
+"Mother has forgotten the dinner because she is doing all the horrid,
+dirty work of having the sweep herself, that I might rest. I won't say
+anything; no, I _won't_. I'll just run out and buy some fish, and cook
+it myself, without saying a word."
+
+She lights the fire, buys the fish, prepares and cooks it in her swift,
+methodical fashion, and has dinner quite ready just as Bob and the
+younger children troop in from school, and Lucy returns from her
+music-lesson.
+
+"Dinner ready?" cries Bob roughly, flinging his cap down on a chair.
+
+"Bob, how dare you do that? Hang your cap up in the hall, directly."
+
+"Oh, bother; I shall want it again in half a minute. Where's mother?"
+
+A wave of indignation sweeps over Betty at his careless answer.
+
+"Not one scrap of dinner shall you have, Bob, until your cap is hanging
+up in its proper place; take it out at once!"
+
+"Shan't; where's mother? I want my dinner. I don't want any of your
+nagging."
+
+Nagging--how Betty hates the word! Bob knows her dislike of it well
+enough, and always uses it when he means to be especially aggravating.
+He does so now, fully expecting her to begin scolding violently.
+
+But somehow her very dislike of the word reminds her of Grannie's
+letter, with its warning about troubles and trials. Is she nagging? has
+she failed already? Yet how rude Bob is--how wrong!
+
+No, she _will_ conquer; and she answers quite gently.
+
+"Bob, how can you expect the younger ones to behave properly if you set
+them a bad example? They all watch you," and she goes out to call her
+mother to dinner.
+
+The kitchen is in a truly dreadful state; table, chairs, and saucepans,
+all heaped together; a liberal sprinkling of soot over everything;
+mother, with a great smudge of soot across her face, Clara as grimy as a
+sweep herself.
+
+"Dinner? Why, I declare I forgot all about it! Can I come? Bless the
+child, of course not. Just look at the state that careless man has left
+everything in; it's disgraceful."
+
+"But, mother, dinner's all ready, and----"
+
+"Oh, that's all right; help the children, and I'll come when I can."
+
+Betty's feelings are all up in arms again. She has cooked the dinner
+herself, and mother won't even take the trouble to come and eat it--her
+birthday dinner, too! Again her indignation almost masters her.
+
+"You must come, mother. Bob's horridly cross."
+
+"Poor boy. Something has upset him at school, I expect. He's made to
+work much too hard over those lessons. Now, Clara, I've told you over
+and over again that I won't have the table scrubbed before the floor's
+swept. Take that pail away at once, and fetch the soft broom!"
+
+Betty sees that further interference will be equally hopeless, and goes
+upstairs, the spirit of rebellion surging in her heart.
+
+"So unnecessary, all this fuss and muddle; what possible good can 'Love'
+do to all this sort of thing?"
+
+Yet Love has already won one small victory for her. Bob would not have
+hung up his cap had she scolded for an hour. But she had answered his
+last unkind remark gently, and when she returns to the sitting-room the
+cap is gone.
+
+Nevertheless, as the day wears on, Betty feels more and more despondent.
+
+"I don't see how things could be worse," she thinks, "and I can't see
+how I can ever make them any better."
+
+The younger children are in bed now, and mother is trying to wash the
+soot from her hands and face in her own room.
+
+"Father will be late to-night; he will want his supper directly he comes
+home. Of course, it will be left to me to get it. I wonder what Lucy
+finds to do so perpetually in her own room? I've a good mind to tell her
+pretty plainly what I think of her selfish, unsociable ways, always
+going away by herself, and leaving me to attend to everything," and
+Betty sighs wearily, and, seating herself on the little sofa, begins to
+sort over the heap of unmended stockings.
+
+The next moment she is startled by a loud double knock at the street
+door. She jumps to her feet and stands listening. What can it be?
+
+Ah, now Clara is coming upstairs. She is always so slow.
+
+What is that? Clara screaming? Betty flies down the passage.
+
+"Oh, Oh, Oh!" shrieks Clara. "The master's killed, and they've brought
+him home in a cab!"
+
+"Killed? No, no, miss; don't be frightened. It's only a bad accident,"
+says the cabman, reassuringly, as he catches sight of Betty's white
+face.
+
+"A bad accident! Father? Oh, what is it?" gasps Betty.
+
+"Smashed his knee-cap, miss."
+
+"Oh, is that all?" cries Betty.
+
+"All! Why, miss, that is the worst kind of accident. Like as not, he'll
+never put foot to ground again; he'd better by far have broken both his
+legs. Is there anyone in the house to help me get him in?"
+
+For a minute Betty's head seems to whirl round, and she cannot think.
+But with a great effort she steadies herself.
+
+"Bob, Bob!" she calls.
+
+Bob has come up, and is standing staring into the darkness beside her,
+Lucy's frightened face just behind him.
+
+"Bob, run in next door, and ask Mr. Baker to come as quickly as ever he
+can; we must have help. Father can't move. Lucy, go and tell mother."
+
+Bob darts off, and Betty goes down to the cab door.
+
+Father is lying back in the cab all huddled together; one leg held
+stiffly before him.
+
+"Is that my Betty?" he says feebly. "Don't be frightened, dear lass, I
+shall be right enough presently." But the dreadful look of pain on his
+face turns her quite sick.
+
+Mr. Baker comes, and father is got into the house; how, Betty never
+knows. Her heart aches to hear the deep groan that breaks from him when
+they lift him to the sofa.
+
+It is father who remembers the cabman, and bids Betty take the purse
+from his pocket, and pay the man. As she gently feels for it, her hand
+encounters an odd stocking from the unmended pile on which father is
+lying, and the thought darts through her mind, "Oh, to think I felt
+things like _that_ to be a trouble this morning!"
+
+Bob is off again to fetch the doctor. Mother is in the room now,
+weeping, and wringing her hands helplessly. Lucy stands trembling with
+terror, and perfectly useless. Only Betty seems to know what to do.
+
+Betty really loves her father, and her quick brain and skilful fingers
+are active in his service. Her love has made her forget herself
+entirely--for a time.
+
+It is her hands that arrange a pillow under the injured knee supporting
+it in such a manner that the pain is greatly lessened. It is she who
+opens the window to give him air, and brings a cup of hot milk to
+relieve his exhaustion. There is no thinking of herself just now, all
+her own little troubles are quite forgotten. Is there nothing she can do
+to make her father's pain easier? That one thought fills her heart.
+
+The doctor! Betty draws back, breathless with anxiety. Will father groan
+again when the doctor touches him?
+
+"Oh, dear Lord, do make the pain better!" she murmurs, with pale lips.
+It is the first time she has really prayed from her heart of hearts for
+anyone save herself.
+
+"I was hurrying along, and slipped upon a banana skin, falling with a
+crash to the pavement, and striking my knee smartly against the edge of
+the curb-stone," she hears father explain to the doctor.
+
+"Ah, 'more haste less speed' this time, with a vengeance, Mr. Langdale.
+It's a pity you weren't more careful."
+
+"It's my girl's birthday, and I had only just remembered it," murmurs
+father faintly. Oh, how poor Betty's conscience pricks her as she hears
+the words!
+
+"Hem! bad job; bad job. A pair of sharp scissors, my dear," and the
+doctor turns to Betty, who flies to get them.
+
+The doctor cuts away the clothing from the injured knee, and after a
+very brief examination declares that his patient must be taken to the
+hospital.
+
+"I will send an ambulance for you immediately, Mr. Langdale. There is no
+help for it, I am afraid," he says, and takes his leave.
+
+There is another dreadful interval of waiting. Mother continues to sob
+and rock herself to and fro. Bob takes up his stand by the window, on
+the look-out for the ambulance. He is truly sorry for father, yet,
+boy-like, feels all the painful importance of the position.
+
+But Betty holds her father's hand, with eyes brimful of pitying love.
+
+"Father, father," she whispers, "if I could only help you; if I could
+only bear some of the pain for you."
+
+A faint smile flickers into his face, and the set features relax a
+little.
+
+[Illustration: A pillow under the injured knee.]
+
+"I fear you will have to bear your share, my lass. The pain in my knee
+is nothing to having to leave you all to shift for yourselves. You must
+see Mr. Duncan, the landlord of the houses I collect rents for, the
+first thing to-morrow, and take him the rent-books. You'll find them all
+in my bag, and the money I've collected this week, too. I haven't got it
+all yet. Perhaps he'll do something for your mother while I'm laid by; I
+don't know. Oh, Betty, my girl, I must leave so much in your hands. Do
+all you can for your mother. Try your best to keep the home together."
+
+"Father, I'll try so hard. I'll do everything I can. I'll----"
+
+"Here's the ambulance, and there's a nurse and two men getting out,"
+announces Bob from the window.
+
+Mrs. Langdale's sobs rise into screams, but Betty scarcely hears her;
+just now she has eyes and ears for her father alone.
+
+Skilful hands carry him to the ambulance, and this time no groan reaches
+Betty's straining ears, as she follows the party.
+
+"Go to your mother! She needs you, and I am in good hands. God bless
+you, dear child! God be with you and help you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FOR FATHER'S SAKE
+
+
+Betty stands gazing at the ambulance, as it passes steadily out of
+sight, and a feeling of deep loneliness sweeps over her heart. No one
+loves her, no one understands her as father does, and now he has gone
+from her.
+
+"Ah! there I am, thinking about myself again--I _won't_ do it!"
+
+She rouses herself with a brave effort, and goes back into the house.
+
+A house full of noise and confusion just now. Mother sobbing loudly in
+the little sitting-room. Jennie and Pollie, awakened from sleep,
+shrieking themselves hoarse in their bedroom above. Clara helpless; Bob
+dazed-looking; Lucy tearful. Only Betty still manages to keep her wits
+about her.
+
+"Lucy, run upstairs and quiet the children--mother, mother, you mustn't
+upset yourself so--father will soon be better, I'm sure--such a nice,
+sweet nurse came to look after him. Come, mother, you're quite tired
+out; lie down on the sofa, and I'll make you a cup of tea."
+
+"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" moans Mrs. Langdale.
+
+"Father will soon be in less pain, and----"
+
+"But what shall _I_ do? Most likely he'll never be able to walk again.
+Mr. Duncan will get some one else to collect his rents and look after
+the houses, and we shall all starve."
+
+"Mother, you really must not worry about all that to-night. Father told
+me to go and see Mr. Duncan to-morrow, and perhaps he'll do something
+for us."
+
+"Mr. Duncan do anything? Why, he's as hard as flint, always grumbling at
+your father for not getting the last penny out of the tenants; _he_ do
+anything? Oh, no, no!"
+
+"Well, we don't know how it will be yet. Come, mother, I'm going to make
+you that cup of tea, and you must lie down while I get it."
+
+Betty makes the tea, and coaxes her mother into taking it, and presently
+persuades her to go to bed.
+
+It is very late by this time, the house is quiet, and Betty goes to bed
+herself.
+
+Now, at last, in the silence, she has time to think.
+
+This morning--was it really only this morning that she was so foolishly
+vexed because her birthday was not remembered? Did she really feel the
+sweep's visit a big trouble only a few hours ago? How small, how utterly
+insignificant her troubles have been up to now! And yet she has made so
+much of them, has felt herself so hardly used!
+
+For a long time she lies awake, turning it all over in her mind.
+"Father, dear, patient old father is tossing in pain and fever, and his
+worry is much worse than mine, for he must lie still and think, and I
+can be up and at work. It is so much harder to bear things when you can
+do nothing to make them better. Lord, show me what to do; show me how to
+work for our home--for father's sake."
+
+Somehow, soon after that prayer, Betty falls into a sound sleep, and
+does not awake until it is morning.
+
+When at length she opens her eyes, it is time to get up. For a moment
+she lies still enough, not remembering what has happened; then, with a
+rush, it all comes back to her, and she starts out of bed.
+
+Father, mother, children--what can she do for them all? Last night she
+had no answer to that question, but now a bright, a daring hope has
+flashed into her mind. Why shouldn't _she_ collect Mr. Duncan's rents,
+and keep his accounts whilst father is laid by? She wanted to go out to
+work for herself. Here is the chance of doing something much better, of
+working for father's sake, of lifting a great part of this heavy load
+from his heart!
+
+But can she do it--can she? Her heart sinks again. "Oh, will Mr. Duncan
+give me a trial?" Suddenly she remembers Grannie. "How sorry Grannie
+will be for this--Oh, if I were like Grannie how much easier it would
+be! Let me think, if Grannie was in my place, what would she do first?"
+
+The answer to that question is easy enough. "She would pray."
+
+Betty kneels by the bedside. She prays for her father, and then she
+prays for herself; prays that she may have strength given her, and
+wisdom, and courage, to do her work bravely and well.
+
+Mother is quite unfit for anything this morning. Lucy must give up her
+music-lesson to wait on her. The children are very fretful. Clara
+declares she is "too much upset to do her usual work, and it ought not
+to be expected of her."
+
+Only Betty is patient and gentle, striving to get through the usual
+duties. Love is leading her at last--love for her father. Just now no
+thought of self dims her memory of his suffering face.
+
+But for all that her heart beats very fast, when at last she knocks at
+Mr. Duncan's door, and her grand plan of carrying on a part of dear
+father's work suddenly appears quite hopeless.
+
+"I'm afraid it will make Mr. Duncan quite angry to propose such a thing.
+Had not I better just give him the money father collected, and say
+nothing about my idea after all?" Betty hesitates a moment, then--
+
+"For father's sake--for father's sake," she murmurs to herself.
+
+The door is opened by a neat maid. Yes, Mr. Duncan is at home, will she
+please to give her name? Another minute and she is shown into a room,
+where an elderly gentleman is writing at a table.
+
+"The young person to see you, sir," announces the maid.
+
+The elderly gentleman looks up with a frown, and fixes a pair of hard
+grey eyes on her face.
+
+"Well, what's the meaning of this?" he says gruffly. "Where's your
+father?"
+
+Betty pauses a moment.
+
+"Where's your father? I want to see him particularly," repeats Mr.
+Duncan, still more angrily.
+
+Betty quakes inwardly; but her courage is of the kind that always rises
+at an emergency, and she explains what has happened in a clear
+business-like fashion.
+
+"Hem! accident indeed--pretty fix his accident has left me in," grumbles
+Mr. Duncan, when she has finished. "Have you the money with you?"
+
+Betty produces it. He counts it over. "Why, how's this? There's two
+pounds short!"
+
+"Father was to collect that to-day, sir; there's a note in his book
+saying which of the tenants haven't paid yet."
+
+"Hem! bad system. If they can't pay up to time, they ought to go. And
+what am I to do now, pray?"
+
+"Please, if you'll let me, I'll go round to the tenants in father's
+place," cries Betty, eagerly.
+
+"You? Why, what does a girl like you know about it?"
+
+"I'm good at accounts; and father has told me how it is done, and shown
+me the books--I help him with them sometimes. If you would _only_ let me
+try, sir--until father gets better----"
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it? _You_ want to take over my work!" and, rather to
+Betty's surprise, the hard old eyes give a little twinkle of amusement.
+"No--no, my girl, you don't understand; there's a great deal besides
+just collecting the money. Repairs to attend to; bad tenants to get rid
+of; new tenants to bargain with----"
+
+"But, sir," interrupts Betty, eagerly, "if you would only let me try to
+do the best I can until father comes out of the hospital--perhaps the
+repairs could wait--and I'd try _so_ hard; and--and we've nothing but a
+few pounds in the savings bank, and father said he thought you might do
+something----"
+
+"Oh, he did--did he? Very kind of him, I'm sure!" snaps Mr. Duncan, the
+hard, suspicious look returning to his face.
+
+Betty feels ready to burst into tears. "He thinks the very idea of
+employing me utterly absurd," she thinks, and turns to go.
+
+But hardly have her fingers touched the handle, before Mr. Duncan calls
+her back.
+
+"Don't be in such a hurry, young person. Your father is a great deal too
+soft with the tenants; but I believe he means well, and I'm sorry for
+his accident. Suppose you go round to the tenants who haven't paid this
+morning? It will be time enough to talk about your taking on the work
+when I see what you can do."
+
+She is to have a trial after all! The expression on Betty's face changes
+so quickly, that Mr. Duncan's eyes twinkle again.
+
+"Hem! you needn't look so pleased. I don't promise anything, mind--why,
+bless the girl, if she isn't off already! Well, if she takes after her
+father, I might do worse. Soft-hearted--a great deal too
+soft-hearted--but as honest as the day," and the old gentleman returns
+to his writing.
+
+Betty hurries home for her father's little rent-collecting bag; and then
+makes her way through the network of narrow streets, in the midst of
+which the houses owned by Mr. Duncan stand.
+
+Arriving at the long row, she looks round her in some dismay.
+
+[Illustration: "Rent?" cries the woman bitterly.]
+
+How small the houses are--how dirty! How narrow and wretched-looking
+the street!
+
+She consults her list, and knocks timidly at the door of the first
+number. No answer. She knocks again. A shuffling of feet follows, and
+presently a woman appears. She is haggard and old-looking, and the child
+in her arms is wailing pitifully. A second child clings to her skirt,
+and mother and children alike are wretchedly clad.
+
+"Rent?" cries the woman bitterly, in answer to Betty's timid request.
+"Pray, how do you suppose I'm to pay the rent, and my husband still on
+the drink? I told the agent it was no use calling, and if he wants to
+turn me out, he must!"
+
+And without giving Betty time to answer, she drags the children in, and
+slams the door.
+
+Betty has not the courage to knock again. What a glimpse of dull,
+hopeless misery the woman's face and voice have revealed to her! She
+passes on to the next house.
+
+The woman who answers this door is rather cleaner. "Called for the rent?
+But you're not the agent," she says, looking at Betty very suspiciously.
+
+Betty explains. "Hum! I don't like the look of it. How do I know it's
+all right? There, you needn't look so offended. If _you_ had had to work
+early and late, denying yourself your proper rest, and a bit of butter
+to your bread, to make up the rent, you'd be careful who you trusted it
+with, I can tell you."
+
+Betty shows the poor woman her father's collecting book, and after a
+while the rent is put grudgingly into her hands. Betty cannot bear to
+take it from the poor thing.
+
+It is a slow, miserable business, but before the morning is over Betty
+manages to get the greater part of the two pounds together.
+
+"Hem; short, as usual," is Mr. Duncan's discouraging remark, as he
+counts it over.
+
+Betty feels sick at heart. The morning's work has been quite a new
+experience. Occupied only with her own thoughts and plans, she has
+thought very little about other people's difficulties; and the miserable
+homes she has just seen have shocked and pained her deeply.
+
+Mr. Duncan weighs the money in his hand for a moment or two, as though
+considering.
+
+"Well, I can't be bothered just now with looking up anyone else. I
+suppose we'd better go on as we are--for the present. Here's the whole
+rent account-book; take it home, and let me know how much rent I've lost
+on the half-year. Good morning."
+
+So she is to take up part of father's work, after all! How glad dear
+father will be!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+DAY BY DAY
+
+
+For the first time in her life Betty is glad to be at home. The rooms
+seem more comfortable and airy than they have ever done before.
+
+"Oh, how thankful I am that I don't live in that horrid, narrow street,
+like those poor wretched-looking women and children!" she thinks. Even
+one morning's work among people so much worse off than herself has
+opened her eyes a little to the blessings she possesses in her home.
+
+Why, if father were only coming home as usual to-night, she could feel
+almost happy--_if_--ah! but father is not coming home; yet he will come
+some day, his life is in no danger. Oh, she will be brave for his sake,
+she will be true to the trust he has left in her hands!
+
+No dinner ready again; mother still quite incapable of attending to
+anything, and poor Betty thoroughly tired out with her anxious
+morning's work. Yet she is not even cross.
+
+No, the more trying and difficult things are, the greater the victory;
+and just now she feels braced up, heart and soul, for the fight.
+
+It is sometimes easier to be brave and unselfish in a time of real
+trouble, than to bear with patience and sweetness the little worries of
+everyday life.
+
+But Betty is on the right road now, she is doing great things; she is
+marching straight on; she is opening her heart to the Lord, and allowing
+His light to shine into its dark places, and there is hope that before
+the little, wearing everyday worries come back again, she may be strong
+enough to resist even them, and prove herself a true Soldier at last.
+
+She may fail though, and darken the light that God sends her! Well, we
+will hope for better things.
+
+So Betty bustles about, and has dinner ready as usual when the children
+come in. Not until they are all off to school again has she time to tell
+her mother of the morning's work.
+
+Mrs. Langdale is not at all encouraging.
+
+"Nice place to send a girl like you to. What is he going to pay you?"
+
+"I don't know yet, mother."
+
+"And you never thought of asking? You silly child! He'll take your work
+and give you nothing."
+
+"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't do that, mother." But she looks rather blank
+at the idea.
+
+"Well, you'll see; and don't say I didn't warn you. When are you going
+to see Mr. Duncan again?"
+
+"To-morrow. I'm to make out an account of the rents to-night, and take
+it with me."
+
+Betty finds that this last is easier said than done. She pores over the
+books until her head aches. Presently Bob comes in.
+
+"Here, Betty, look sharp. I want a button sewn on my coat, and I can't
+find that new pair of boot-laces, and--why, just fancy sitting there
+reading like that! No wonder a fellow can never get anything done in
+this house--it's too bad!"
+
+"I'm not reading, I'm doing Mr. Duncan's accounts," says Betty quietly.
+The knowledge that she is working unselfishly for the good of her family
+is a grand help towards keeping her temper!
+
+Bob stares. "Rubbish!" he says.
+
+"Come and see, Bob. I'm to do part of father's work, and Oh, I do wish
+you could help me. I feel so stupid to-night, and there is so much to
+do."
+
+Bob melts at once. "Why, Bet, who would have thought of your doing such
+a thing? There, let me see--Ah, here we are! Now then----"
+
+But, alas! just as Bob is beginning to bring his brand-new ideas of
+correct book-keeping to bear on the problem before them, a violent
+outcry arises from Pollie, who, until now, has been playing fairly
+quietly with Jennie in the corner.
+
+"Harry, you bad, wicked boy!" she screams, "I'll pull all your hair out,
+that I will!" and she rushes at Harry like a little fury. Harry defends
+himself savagely, and Jennie, curled up on the floor, howls her loudest.
+
+"Be quiet, Jennie! Pollie and Harry, if you don't leave off fighting at
+once, I'll box your ears all round!" cries Bob, looking up angrily from
+his work.
+
+"Harry's sawn the leg off one of our dollies!" shrieks Pollie, "and he's
+a bad, bad, wicked boy!"
+
+[Illustration: Harry defends himself savagely.]
+
+"She asked me to," roars Harry; "her dollie had smashed its leg like
+father, and I was the doctor, and had to take it off."
+
+"He hadn't! He was to cure its bad leg, and now he's made it worse, and
+I'll pull his hair out for that, I will!"
+
+"I don't care about your old dolls and rubbish; but if you're not quiet
+this minute I'll knock all your heads together and give you something to
+cry for!" cries Bob, still more angrily, and he starts from his chair as
+though to execute his threat.
+
+But Betty lays her hand entreatingly on his arm. "Oh, Bob, don't; father
+wouldn't like it. He can't bear you to strike the children. Pollie,
+perhaps the doll can be mended; Harry didn't mean any harm. Harry, be
+quiet, you must not beat your little sister. Pollie, leave go, you
+naughty girl----"
+
+But Betty is powerless to stop the storm. Bob tries to separate Harry
+and Pollie, who are fighting desperately. Harry kicks at Bob, whereat
+the elder brother loses his temper altogether, and cuffs Harry
+vigorously on both sides of his head. Harry roars; Jennie and Pollie
+continue to shriek. Bob, his face flaming with wrath, drags each
+screaming, kicking child to the door, and flings it into the passage.
+Then he locks the door, and with flushed face and tumbled hair, though
+pretending to look quite unconcerned, goes on with the books, in spite
+of the yells from the passage outside.
+
+Betty is in despair.
+
+"Oh, Bob, how could you be so violent? If father had been at home you
+would not have behaved so----"
+
+"Look here, Betty, if you're going to begin that, you may take the books
+yourself and do them; I'm sick of the whole thing!"
+
+Betty is wise enough to make no answer to Bob's outburst. She leaves the
+room quietly, and, after some trouble, pacifies the children, and sees
+them all safely in bed.
+
+She feels thoroughly humiliated and miserable. The whole thing is such a
+keen disgrace; that _her_ brothers and sisters should behave so roughly
+and rudely!
+
+How untrained they all are--how badly brought up! No wonder father has
+grown so sad and old-looking of late. His old home--when he lived with
+Grannie--must have been very different.
+
+She returns to the accounts. Bob is still poring over them, but looks so
+savage that she is almost afraid to speak. He finishes the work in
+silence, answers her thanks with a grunt, and goes off with his head in
+the air, and both hands deep in his pockets.
+
+And Betty goes to bed herself, depressed indeed.
+
+But the next morning there is a short pencil-note from father. His knee
+is more comfortable, but the doctor fears it will be a long business. He
+is most anxious to hear what Mr. Duncan will do.
+
+Reading the note to mother, who is not up yet, makes Betty rather later
+than usual, and she runs straight to the kitchen to hurry on the
+breakfast.
+
+"Oh, Clara, the kettle not boiling yet, nor the porridge on--why, this
+is too bad! You are more behindhand than ever. Pray, how does this
+happen?"
+
+"Don't know," mutters Clara, sulkily.
+
+"But you ought to know. Come, make haste--a bundle of wood, quick! The
+children must leave in half an hour."
+
+Betty bustles about, and manages to get some sort of meal ready in time.
+
+Breakfast over, and the children gone to school, she returns to the
+kitchen.
+
+Things cannot be allowed to go on like this. She must talk to Clara.
+
+But what can she say? Clara is so used to scolding, that she cares
+nothing for it. No, she must try to reason with her; she must teach her
+to think.
+
+Wise Betty! Perplexed and troubled, she turns into the now deserted
+sitting-room for a few moments, and asks the Lord to help her. Then she
+goes back.
+
+"Clara," she begins, "I have to go out this morning to look after some
+of father's business. I shall have to go out a good deal, for the work
+must be done, and is not easy to do; indeed, I can't do it at all unless
+you help me."
+
+Clara opens her eyes very wide at this.
+
+"I see you wonder what I mean. You must help me by getting all your work
+nicely forward, and the dinner prepared before I get back. Now, just
+look at this kitchen; I don't believe it's been swept since the day
+before yesterday; has it, Clara?"
+
+Clara is silent; and begins biting the corner of her apron sulkily.
+
+"Why are you neglecting everything in this way? Come, answer me, Clara."
+
+"Don't know; I'm upset, I s'pose."
+
+"Well, what has upset you?"
+
+"Master's accident, of course. I wouldn't care a bit if it was some
+folks--serve them right! But master, who never speaks a cross word to
+anyone, and always asks after mother--that it should happen to him! It
+isn't fair! I don't see what is to prevent _any_ of us getting our legs
+broken if he is to be smashed up in this way; and I'm that upset, I
+can't seem to settle to anything."
+
+"But that is just what we've all got to learn to do--for father's sake.
+And, Clara, I think God has sent us this trouble because we have all
+been so careless and thankless in the past. You've never really cared to
+do your work properly, I'm afraid; you've never felt any real
+responsibility about it----"
+
+"Oh, how can you say that? I'm always at work, and never, never done!"
+
+"That's just because you never think about your work; you don't ever
+take the trouble to arrange it; and you don't care a bit about neatness
+or cleanliness."
+
+Clara raises the corner of the dirty apron from her mouth to her eyes.
+
+"What's the good?" she whimpers. "I should get in a muddle again
+directly; my work isn't anything _but_ muddle!"
+
+"But that's what it shouldn't be. You do your work as though you thought
+it wasn't worth doing at all."
+
+"Don't think about it at all," mutters Clara.
+
+"That's just it. My Grannie, she keeps her house as clean and tidy as a
+new pin, and yet always has time for everything. My Grannie says that
+all work is really beautiful if it is done for God. Did you never hear
+of the little servant who used to say she swept the floor for God, and
+cleaned the pots for God, too? God sees everything, you know.
+
+"Then, again, you're sorry for father's accident; but why don't you show
+you're sorry by doing your work in the way father would like? Untidy
+rooms and careless, slipshod ways worry him dreadfully. Now, wouldn't it
+be nice if we could get all the house in apple-pie order, and ourselves
+into nice, tidy ways, before he comes out of the hospital? What a smile
+of thanks he would give us all round! Come, isn't that something worth
+trying for?"
+
+"Hum! Don't see how it's going to be done," mutters Clara, looking round
+the untidy kitchen hopelessly. "We're just in a muddle everywhere."
+
+"We can't get straight all of a minute, of course. But what I want us to
+do is to make a beginning. Ah, there's ten o'clock striking! I must go
+to Mr. Duncan with the books. Now, you will try--won't you, Clara?
+You'll work for God, and to please father, and to help me; and, Clara,"
+adds Betty, in a hurried whisper, "_do_ run upstairs and put your cap
+straight, and wash that great black smut from your face--it's right
+across your nose."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE CAPTAIN
+
+
+Mr. Duncan offers to give Betty a third part of her father's usual
+earnings. The rent-collecting will occupy three long mornings in the
+week at least, and an hour or two of every evening must be spent over
+the books.
+
+The sights and sounds of the district she has to collect for trouble
+Betty dreadfully. Some of the women look utterly weary and down-trodden;
+others again are always scolding and quarrelling. Then the poor, sickly
+children--and occasional glimpses of rough, drink-sodden men--haunt her
+mind. She has over a hundred houses to collect for, and it takes her the
+whole of the three mornings to get through them all.
+
+How many stories of want and misery she has listened to before the
+week's work is over!
+
+"My husband has taken to the drink again." "My father was knocked down
+by a van and carried to the hospital." "The children have all got the
+measles." "Mother's taken bad with bronchitis." "My husband hasn't done
+a stroke of work for three weeks." Are all the stories true? Betty has
+no means of knowing.
+
+Sick at heart, she returns home and throws herself into a chair after
+each morning's work. A shabby, untidy room? Well, perhaps it is; but,
+Oh! how different from the homes she has just visited! How wrong she has
+been to grumble so in the past--how wicked to be discontented!
+
+One day she returns in a specially humble frame of mind.
+
+"My home could be made a really beautiful one if I only knew how to
+manage. But I don't. I'm very stupid, somehow. I try and try, but never
+seem to know what to do for the best.
+
+"Have I made any difference at all, since I came home from Grannie's?
+
+"Clara is a little better, perhaps--at least, her face is a shade
+cleaner; and I didn't notice more than two saucepans standing about,
+and--Oh! yes, the kettle was boiling this morning--I mustn't forget all
+that; but how rough the children are! How unreasonable Bob is at times!
+Two or three evenings he has stayed out quite late. Father wouldn't like
+that--I wonder where he goes? Then, there's Lucy; nothing in the home
+seems to interest her. I do think it very selfish of her to spend so
+much time in reading, especially just now.
+
+"When I first returned home, I thought everything was wrong; now I can
+see it isn't the home so much, it's the people in it. We're all spoiling
+it--and I'm helping to spoil it as well.
+
+"What grand thoughts I had about making everything right all at once,
+and what a little I seem likely to do!"
+
+All day Betty goes about her work in the same humble spirit, with a
+sense of failure strong upon her.
+
+The excitement of father's accident is over now; they have settled down
+into their old grooves again. True, Betty has much extra work to do, but
+all the glory of fighting grand difficulties has died out of her life
+again.
+
+Collecting rents is certainly a very depressing business; that is, in a
+poor, unthrifty neighbourhood. No, there is nothing splendid about it.
+
+"The house is as untidy as ever," she thinks, "and the younger children
+so rude and boisterous--and mother doesn't seem to care a bit."
+
+Lower sink Betty's spirits as the day wears on. Now, is the real time of
+trial; now, indeed, she needs all her courage and resolution.
+
+A letter from Grannie! Two letters--one to mother about father's
+accident, and a long loving letter of good counsel to herself.
+
+Betty carries her treasure away to her own room; a few sprigs of fresh
+lavender fall from between the folded pages as she opens it. How
+Grannie's rooms always smelt of lavender! Her eyes fill with tears at
+the memories the delicate scent recalls to her mind!
+
+"How lovingly Grannie's letter begins! Ah, she doesn't know what a
+failure I am making of everything!" thinks poor Betty.
+
+"What is this? What does Grannie say?" Betty gazes eagerly at the page.
+"Oh! how did she guess all this?"
+
+"I know, dear, that this is a time of real fighting," so the letter
+runs; "that every day brings its hard battle--the battle of standing
+firm against the worry and irritation of little things." Betty sighs.
+"Yes, and I feel sure that every day sees a hard-won victory, too."
+Betty shakes her head, and one big tear steals slowly down her cheek.
+
+"You have written very little about yourself lately, but I can see from
+your mother's letters, and from your own, too, that the Bird of Love is
+beginning to speak in your voice; that my dear Betty is letting the Lord
+Jesus rule in her heart.
+
+"You have much to learn yet, dear, and little to help you to learn it.
+Can you not go to The Army Meetings? I hear that Captain Janet Scott, a
+dear young friend of mine, has just gone in charge of the Corps in Duke
+Street. I have written to her about you. Do ask your mother's leave to
+go to the Meetings."
+
+"O Grannie, I should so love to go," murmurs Betty; "but I am
+afraid--I'm quite sure--mother would never let me, even if I asked her!"
+
+"Go on fighting bravely, dear; do not allow these little troubles to
+wear away your courage. Trust the Lord more and more. Lean on Him; fight
+in His strength, and a bright day of victory will dawn for you at last.
+Ah, Betty, it is dawning for you now! Already the true, unselfish love
+that will make you a happy girl is beginning to shine in your heart."
+
+"Oh! how _can_ she say that?" and the tears that sparkle in Betty's eyes
+now are tears of joy. "Can that really be true?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I knew mother wouldn't let me go to The Army Meetings--I was perfectly
+_sure_ of it!" exclaims Betty to herself the morning after Grannie's
+letter. Her eyes are heavy with trouble again, her heart sore with
+painful recollections. She has asked for permission, and been refused,
+and the words of mother's refusal have been hard to bear.
+
+"How can she be so unjust, so unreasonable?" thinks Betty, angrily, as
+she enters the crowded district where Mr. Duncan's property lies, for
+she is rent-collecting again.
+
+Grannie's letter had cheered her for awhile, but the talk with mother
+this morning has plunged her again into the depths of gloom. Just now
+everything seems dark and sad indeed.
+
+"Oh, dear, I've the same dreary round of calls to make, I suppose, the
+same unhappiness to see everywhere.
+
+"What a dreadful amount of trouble there is in this world, and there
+doesn't seem to be any way of making things better. No. 41. Oh, yes; the
+woman here has a tiny, tiny baby, and she's very weak and wretched, and
+there's a whole troop of dirty, rough-haired little children, with no
+one to look after them. I can't bear to knock--how can she pay anything?
+Well, I suppose I must."
+
+"Come in--the door is unbolted!" cries a cheery voice, in answer to her
+knock--a very different voice from that she had expected to hear.
+
+Betty steps reluctantly into the passage.
+
+"What is it you want, please?" says the voice again, from a room at the
+back. Betty explains her business wonderingly; the voice is so unlike
+the dull, hopeless tones with which she is usually greeted.
+
+"Oh, it's all right, Captain," says a second voice, far more feebly,
+"it's the young lady for the rent."
+
+"Do come in please, and excuse me just a moment, as I can't leave the
+child like this," cries the cheery voice.
+
+Whereat Betty steps to the door and peeps in.
+
+Round a big empty packing-case, placed in the centre of the room, the
+tenant's three children are gathered.
+
+The little boy, his face shining with cleanliness, and his usually
+tousled head smooth and glossy, is looking on, whilst a sweet-faced
+woman, in a blue serge dress and big apron, is washing one of his
+sisters in a large basin, with a plentiful supply of soap and water.
+
+On the floor sits a third child awaiting her turn; and on the bed in the
+corner lies the sick woman, her baby on her arm, and such a hopeful
+expression on her face that Betty scarcely recognises her.
+
+"Come in, miss," she says, "I've got a bit of rent for you this week,
+thanks to Captain helping my husband to some work. Here it is," and she
+pulls a few shillings, wrapped in a scrap of paper, from under her
+pillow.
+
+"Thank you, Mrs. Smith," says Betty. "That is the Captain, I suppose?"
+she adds, glancing towards the washing operations going on in the middle
+of the room.
+
+[Illustration: A plentiful supply of soap and water.]
+
+"Bless her! yes," answers Mrs. Smith, in a low voice. "And an angel from
+the Lord she's been to me, miss. Washed the children regular, tidied up,
+made my bit of gruel, given the children their dinners, and, what's
+better than all, she put fresh heart in me, miss, with her beautiful
+prayers and pleadings. Last week I felt that I wanted to give up and
+die. Oh, the Lord is good to send me such a friend!"
+
+"Come, come, Mrs. Smith, the Lord is always good to those who trust
+Him," interposes the Captain, who has overheard the last remark.
+
+Is this Captain Janet Scott--Grannie's friend? Betty must know, and
+stands waiting until the washing is finished, and the Captain puts on
+her bonnet to go.
+
+They pass out of the house together, but a sudden shyness has come over
+Betty, and she quite stammers as she says:--
+
+"Please, are you Captain Janet Scott?"
+
+The Captain gives her a bright look. "Yes; and who are you--one of my
+Soldiers? I hoped so directly I saw you."
+
+"I am--that is, I'd like to be--only I'm afraid I mustn't," stammers
+Betty.
+
+"Mustn't be a Soldier? How's that, my child?"
+
+"I'm Betty Langdale. You know my Grannie--she lives near Moordale. She's
+a Salvationist, but mother won't let me be one. I've tried to persuade
+her only this morning to say yes, but it's no use."
+
+"Betty Langdale--of course! I'm so glad to see you, dear, and you can be
+a Soldier, even if the way is not yet open for you to be sworn-in. You
+can be the Lord's true Soldier, fighting His battles in His strength."
+
+"But mother says she will never let me go to the Meetings."
+
+"I am sorry, dear; but keep believing, and remember that Meetings alone
+do not make good Soldiers. God will help you to fight your battles at
+home. Fight against wrong wherever you see it. Keep very close to Jesus.
+Do all you can for those at home, and you can be a true Salvationist,
+although at present you may not join The Army."
+
+"But mother ought _not_ to stop me from attending the Meetings, ought
+she, Captain?"
+
+"My dear, it is not your place to judge your mother. Your whole thought
+should be to win her gently, to _prove_ to her your sincerity by your
+life.
+
+"It is only by keeping things in their places, you know, that we have a
+tidy house. It is only through giving each member of our family his or
+her true place that we can have a happy home. Keep true and patient,
+and God Himself will one day open the door for you.
+
+"Trust Him, commit your life into His hands, and He will undertake for
+you and make the crooked places smooth.
+
+"I have to call here, my child; but we shall meet again soon, and
+meantime God bless and help you every day."
+
+And with a bright smile and warm handshake, Captain Janet Scott goes on
+her way, leaving Betty with a heart filled with joy. It was surely God
+Himself who planned that she should meet the Captain in this unexpected
+way, God who had sent His own sweet messenger to Betty to give her this
+much-needed counsel and advice!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A PLACE FOR EVERY ONE
+
+
+"Every one has a right place," thinks Betty, when her morning's work is
+done. "Yes, that sounds true enough, but how am I to manage in our
+house? I wish Captain had explained more about it.
+
+"Now, let me think--what is my right place? It is my place to be loving
+and thoughtful, to strive to help every one, that's what Grannie would
+say. Well, I am trying to do that. 'It is _not_ your place to judge your
+mother,' so said my dear Captain. Of course, it is not. I know that, and
+yet I suppose that is just what I was doing when I spoke so impatiently
+about her. Mother's place? Have I ever given mother her right place?
+Have I ever been really loving, really thoughtful for her, really
+obedient?
+
+"But, then, mother has such old-fashioned notions, and such unpunctual
+ways, and--no, I _won't_ go on; I mustn't think these thoughts--this
+isn't giving mother her true place, this isn't keeping to the spirit of
+Captain's words!
+
+"How sweet Captain is! Her big brown eyes are as clear and kind as
+Grannie's, and her voice is just the nicest I have ever heard. How I
+should love to be like her, to make all that difference when I went into
+a miserable house! Poor Mrs. Smith looked quite bright; and such a
+change in the children! If I could be an Officer, now, and go about
+making people happy, how delightful that would be!"
+
+Then, with a new and true humility that is only just beginning to make
+itself felt in her heart, she adds:--
+
+"Ah! but I'm not good enough. I'm too impatient, too irritable. No, no,
+I haven't learnt yet to be a good Soldier--why, I haven't learnt yet how
+to make _one_ home happy. I must learn to serve with patience. I must
+conquer myself; then, perhaps, in the days to come, the Lord will open
+the way to me, and I, too, may go into sad homes as a messenger of peace
+and love."
+
+"Betty!" Mother's voice, calling querulously from the first-floor
+landing. Betty runs upstairs. Mother has a shawl round her shoulders,
+and looks very gloomy and upset.
+
+"Betty, can't you keep the children quiet? My head aches dreadfully, but
+it's quite useless to try and get any sleep with Jennie and Pollie
+stamping about just over one's head. I sent them up to the attic to be
+out of the way, and they've done nothing but quarrel ever
+since--tiresome little good-for-nothings!"
+
+"Oh, of course, they must come down at once, mother. Shall I send them
+out for a walk?"
+
+"No, indeed, they're so dreadfully rough, throwing stones and shouting
+themselves hoarse like a couple of street boys. I don't know what I've
+done, I'm sure, to have such troublesome children."
+
+Betty fetches her two younger sisters down from the attic, and sends
+them out to play in the small garden-yard at the back of the house. She
+has a great deal of difficulty, for they are both so headstrong and
+unruly that they will hardly obey at all. At last she persuades them to
+settle down to a game of horses, and goes back.
+
+But five minutes have barely elapsed when mother's voice is heard
+again.
+
+"Betty, what are those children doing? I declare their noise is making
+me quite ill!"
+
+Dismal shrieks from the back of the house confirm her words. Betty flies
+to a window and looks out.
+
+Pollie, screaming with terror, is flying from Jennie, who, with face
+distorted with passion, is darting after her--flourishing a big stick,
+and yelling like a mad girl.
+
+Betty's heart sinks at the sight. How shameful, how humiliating that her
+sisters should behave like this! How untaught and untrained they are!
+
+She runs out breathlessly. She seizes Jennie by the arm. Jennie kicks
+and screams furiously.
+
+"I will whip her, I will! She's a bad, wicked girl. She said she would
+stand still if I would let go of her arm, and then she ran away!"
+
+"'Cos she was going to put a big strap in my mouth, and drive me about,"
+sobs Pollie, "and I won't have it, I won't!" and, relying on Betty's
+protection, she strikes at her sister in her turn.
+
+[Illustration: Pollie flying from Jennie.]
+
+"Pollie! Jennie! Oh, how can you behave so badly? You rude, naughty
+girls! Why, you're every bit as bad as the rough boys who play in the
+street. Aren't you ashamed to behave so wickedly? Don't you know that
+the Lord is very sorry when He sees little girls selfish, and rude, and
+passionate? You know quite well that poor mother's head is bad, and yet
+you make all this noise! Why don't you try to play quietly together?"
+
+"Nothing to play at," answers Jennie, sulkily. "I'm tired of games; and,
+besides, games are silly."
+
+"Then take your knitting, or hem one of the new dusters."
+
+"Shan't; it's holiday time, and I don't mean to do any work. If Pollie
+wasn't so silly I could play with her all right--screaming and making
+all that fuss about nothing."
+
+"Well, if you can't keep quiet, I shall have to put you to bed--now
+remember."
+
+But to herself Betty thinks, "Now, what would be the right thing to do
+for them? Teach them better, I suppose; teach them to be kind and
+gentle, teach them to be unselfish, to think less of themselves and more
+of others."
+
+The thought is still with her when she returns to her household duties.
+Suddenly a happy idea strikes her.
+
+"Ah! I remember how Grannie told me that when she was a girl she used
+to invite a number of her little school-friends to her cottage on
+half-holidays; each girl brought a small piece of work with her, a tiny
+petticoat to sew, a sock to knit, or what not; and they would sew and
+chat away happily for hours, fancying themselves a real sewing society.
+
+"The work was not for themselves--Oh, no! Twice every year all the
+little garments were collected and given to the poorer children of the
+village. Now, if these rough, headstrong sisters of mine would only do
+that! Is there nothing to make them follow dear Grannie's example?"
+
+All the rest of that day Betty is thinking over her plan, and at night,
+ere she goes to rest, she lays the whole matter before the Lord in very
+earnest prayer. She is beginning to understand something at last of the
+real strength, and comfort, and light, which follows all heart-felt
+prayer.
+
+Next morning she awakes with the determination strong within her of
+commencing that very day to win her little sisters to better things.
+
+The children's summer holidays are just beginning; now is the time to
+interest them, to teach and help them; to put higher thoughts into
+their minds, to give their hands unselfish work to do.
+
+It is a hot afternoon, Jennie and Pollie have been playing together
+aimlessly, breaking out now and again into noisy bursts of passion. They
+are too tired to play any more now, and hot and sulky besides.
+
+Betty calls them to her.
+
+"Jennie, Pollie, I want to talk to you about a new way of spending your
+holiday afternoons; a really beautiful way. Come into the garden, and
+I'll tell you all about it."
+
+The "garden" is only a back-yard, with one dusty tree leaning over the
+paling, and a few unhappy-looking flowers. How different from Grannie's
+garden, with its masses of sweet-scented, old-fashioned blossoms; its
+pure air and clear sunlight!
+
+Well, well, Betty must not think of that just now. At any rate, the air
+is fresher here than in the house.
+
+"Is it a new kind of game? Oh, Betty, do make haste and tell us!"
+
+"Listen, girls. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago there lived a dear,
+good woman--a _very_ good woman."
+
+"What was her name?" demands Pollie.
+
+"Dorcas. She lived in a little town by the seaside, in a country far
+away. Now in this town were many poor widows, who could not afford to
+buy clothes enough to keep them warm; and when Dorcas saw this she set
+to work, and cut out nice coats, and stitched away, and I daresay she
+called her neighbours in to help her, and very soon those poor widows
+had new garments all round. How grateful, how delighted they were! They
+couldn't say enough to show their thanks."
+
+"How do you know? Aren't you just making it up, Betty?"
+
+"No, indeed; we read about Dorcas, and the poor widows, and their coats,
+in the Bible itself. Now, why don't you two girls invite two or three of
+your school friends in one afternoon, and pretend to be Dorcas and her
+neighbours? I'll be Dorcas, if you like, and we'll make little garments
+for poor widows and fatherless children, and chat together, just as
+Dorcas and her friends did, hundreds and hundreds of years ago."
+
+"Who'll be the widows?" asked Jennie, much interested.
+
+"Oh, real widows and orphans; just like those Dorcas worked for. Then,
+perhaps, we could have tea out of doors, and I'll mix some of those nice
+buns which Grannie showed me how to make. We would drink our tea out of
+mugs, because, in the days when Dorcas lived, no one had cups and
+saucers."
+
+"Oh, that would be lovely!" cry the girls. "Who shall we ask to come,
+Betty?" adds Jennie alone.
+
+"Anyone you like--that is, any nice girl."
+
+"Millie and Ida Davis are both nice as nice. Then there's Flo----"
+
+"We mustn't have too many at first. Suppose we each invite one friend? I
+choose Minnie White for mine."
+
+"Oh, Minnie White's always so prim and proper; just because she's an
+Army girl; not a bit of fun in her."
+
+"You're quite wrong, Jennie. Minnie is as full of real fun as she can
+be. She doesn't like rough ways, and senseless jokes; but I only wish
+you looked one-half as happy as she does! Well, dears, choose the best
+and most unselfish girls you know; this is to be a very special kind of
+meeting, you see."
+
+"Oh, of course; _we_ don't want any nasty, horrid girls like Kitty and
+Lena!"
+
+"Now, Jennie, do you think that Dorcas would _ever_ have been put in the
+Bible, if she had talked like that about her friends? Why, girls,
+you'll spoil the whole thing if you don't try to be like her! You're
+going to copy her, aren't you?"
+
+"Course we are!" assents Pollie.
+
+Betty mixes the cakes that very evening. She is not a good cook--does
+not like cooking, in fact; but somehow she is feeling very happy.
+
+"The cakes must be as nice as I can make them. Ah! I must be sure to
+take a peep to-night into that book of father's, about God's brave
+Soldiers, in the far-off days when Dorcas really lived; then I shall be
+able to talk about it all to the girls to-morrow and interest them.
+
+"If I could only help Jennie and Pollie to understand; if I could really
+bring them nearer to the Lord; Oh, what a happy, what a truly blessed
+thing that would be!"
+
+The next afternoon is hot again, but there is shade in the dingy garden.
+A semicircle of chairs has been arranged, and Jennie and Pollie, looking
+unusually clean and tidy, with sweet-faced Minnie White, and Millie and
+Ida Davis, are industriously stitching away. It is a critical moment,
+for "Dorcas," that is, Betty, has just left them alone.
+
+"What horrid clumsy stitches you are putting in that handkerchief,
+Pollie," cries Jennie.
+
+"They're quite as good as yours!" snaps Pollie.
+
+"They're not!"
+
+"They are! I'm sure they are!"
+
+"Oh, dear, please don't!" pleads little Minnie White. "Jennie's stitches
+are the best, but then Pollie's are quite as good for her age. And we
+must all be very loving and kind, mustn't we? or we shouldn't be the
+least bit like Dorcas and her friends."
+
+Wise Betty to include little Minnie in her first back-yard meeting!
+
+"Oh, look, here's Betty, I mean Dorcas, with the tea! How good the cakes
+smell--how thirsty I am! Oh, isn't it just lovely to have it out here?"
+cry the girls.
+
+And Jennie and Pollie clap their hands too, and are as happy as the
+rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A QUARREL
+
+
+"It has been much easier than I thought," says Betty to herself, a week
+or two after her first back-yard meeting. The fourth has just been held,
+and the girls have taken to it wonderfully.
+
+"Jennie and Pollie are improving steadily. How blind I have been! They
+were naughty and rough just for want of some interest in life--for the
+need of something to do. Jennie has hemmed two little pinafores already,
+and Pollie one; and the other girls have all done well--especially
+Minnie White. Ah, Minnie is a darling, a true Junior Soldier! Her
+example is just splendid for my sisters, and I am glad to see they are
+getting quite fond of her. This was a good idea of mine. I must tell
+Captain Scott about it. How pleased she will be! I really am managing
+much better. I really am beginning to make home happy and nice. What's
+that? Seven o'clock, and the accounts not touched yet! Mr. Duncan does
+work me hard. Oh, how glad I shall be when dear father comes home again!
+His leg is really getting stronger now, that's one comfort. What a grand
+day it will be when he leaves the hospital!"
+
+Betty opens the account-books, and sighs as she looks down the long
+columns of figures.
+
+"I only wish Bob would help me as he did at first. Where does he spend
+his evenings? I must say I do think it selfish of him to be from home so
+much, considering everything. Why, I believe that's his knock now!
+Perhaps he means to help me this evening, after all."
+
+And she runs to open the door.
+
+"O Bob, do come and look over the accounts!" she begins; then, catching
+sight of a long black case in his hand, "Why, Bob, what have you there?"
+
+"Violin," says Bob, briefly, but with an air of great importance.
+
+"A violin! Dear me, what use can that be to you?"
+
+"I can learn to play like other people, I suppose?" answers Bob, tartly.
+"There, I haven't time to stand chattering! I am to try this violin
+to-night, and let the fellow it belongs to know if it suits me."
+
+"Let what fellow know? O Bob, you surely haven't promised to _buy_ that
+old fiddle?"
+
+"Old fiddle, indeed! Mind your own business, miss, and leave me to mind
+mine!"
+
+"I've enough to do, that's certain; and I suppose now you don't mean to
+help me with the accounts one bit?"
+
+Bob only replies to this with a kind of grunt, and turns into the little
+front parlour, where the family generally sit now that the weather has
+grown so much hotter.
+
+Betty follows, and sits down wearily to the account-books. Bob is
+evidently in an unreasonable frame of mind. Where did he get that
+violin? Has he promised to pay for it? If so, how will he obtain the
+money?
+
+Meantime, Bob unrolls a sheet of music, marked, "Exercises for the
+Violin," props it upright on the table with the help of a few books,
+draws the violin and bow from the case, and places the instrument in
+position under his chin with what he considers quite a professional air.
+Then he takes up the bow and draws it lightly across the strings.
+
+A horrible squeak is the result. Bob looks rather blank; Betty shudders.
+She has a keen ear for music, and such a discord gives her real pain.
+
+"Out of tune," mutters Bob, and he screws up one of the little pegs to
+tighten the string; then he tries again. Another squeak, louder and more
+utterly jarring than before.
+
+He repeats this process several times. Betty is tired and worried; she
+endures in silence for awhile, but suddenly her patience gives way
+altogether.
+
+"Bob, what _are_ you trying to do?" she cries sharply.
+
+"I am tuning the violin; can't you hear?"
+
+"Tuning! Why, you make a more abominable noise every time you touch it.
+What could have induced you to bring that wretched thing into the
+house?"
+
+"That's it, abuse a thing you don't understand! It's a very good violin,
+only the strings are a bit worn. Of course, if I decide to have it, I
+shall get new ones."
+
+"Worn--I should think they are! Look here, Bob, you don't mean to tell
+me that you're really going to buy that old thing?"
+
+"I told you before, that is none of your business. If I choose to buy
+it, I shall, so don't give advice when it isn't wanted."
+
+"But it _is_ my business!" cries Betty, now thoroughly roused. "Who is
+to pay for it, I should like to know? Haven't I to work for the money to
+live on?--am I not trying to work for it now? And instead of helping me,
+as you ought, you make my head whirl round with that horrid old fiddle!"
+
+Bob jumps up in a fury, and flings the violin into its case. "So this is
+the way a fellow is treated when he comes home to practise! It'll be
+long enough before I trouble you again, my lady, I can tell you! I've
+plenty of friends who understand music rather better than you do, and
+they tell me that I ought to learn, and would soon play very well. You
+used to say you wanted me to learn yourself. Now I see just how much
+your words are worth!"
+
+And he closes the case with a loud snap, and flings out of the room.
+
+In a moment Betty realises what she has done. She flies after him.
+
+"Bob--Bob--stay one minute--I----"
+
+The street door closes with a bang. Bob has gone.
+
+Betty stands there, her head in a whirl. How did the miserable quarrel
+arise? Just after she had been feeling so happy about her success with
+the girls, too. Oh, what a wretched, wretched ending to the day!
+
+Tired though she is, Betty cannot go to bed until Bob comes home. At
+last she hears his step, and flies to the door.
+
+"O Bob, I didn't mean----" she begins eagerly, directly she sees him.
+But he pushes past her without a word, and, running upstairs, shuts
+himself in his own room.
+
+Betty goes to her own room, too; but not to sleep. What can she do to
+make Bob understand how sorry she is for her hasty words, how much she
+wants to help him, how dearly she longs to win his confidence?
+
+She goes over the brief scene between them, sentence by sentence, as
+nearly as she can remember it.
+
+"Bob was certainly overbearing and unreasonable," she thinks, her anger
+reviving a little as she recalls his words. "Oh, but it was my place to
+help him to be better. I have promised to be the Lord's Soldier. I
+should have been wiser and stronger than he--and I wasn't, not one bit!
+I lost my temper. I made no effort to check myself."
+
+These are sad thoughts for poor Betty; but it is often through just such
+a sense of failure and shortcoming, through just such self-reproaches as
+hers to-night, that the Lord renews our strength. No spiritual blessing
+is so full of power as that which follows a time of humiliation. In
+distrusting ourselves we learn to put a more perfect trust in Him.
+
+Bob still wears an air of deep injury at breakfast next morning. He
+answers all Betty's rather timid remarks with "Yes" or "No," and seems
+even to take trouble to show that all confidence between them is at an
+end.
+
+Sick at heart, Betty starts out on her weary round of rent-collecting.
+Her sorrow is heavy upon her, and she walks with drooping head and
+unheeding eyes.
+
+"Bob is wrong to bear malice like this," she thinks. "If he won't listen
+to anything I have to say, how can I ever make things right between us
+again? Would it be right for me to go and ask his pardon? It is plain
+that unless I do something he means to have a grievance against me. Oh,
+dear, I just feel no heart for my work or anything while things are like
+this! Lord, do lift the burden, do show me what to do! Do help me to
+put a stop to the mischief my foolish words have caused."
+
+"The Captain!"
+
+Suddenly turning a corner, Betty's eyes fall upon a little group
+gathered round a doorstep not twenty yards away.
+
+Three or four shabby little children and Captain Janet Scott. The
+Captain talking to them, with all that tenderness and loving sympathy
+that they have never had from their own mothers, poor mites, and for
+which their baby hearts are craving; the children looking up into her
+face with eager eyes.
+
+The Captain! Just an accidental meeting in a dull and dirty street; but
+to Betty it is as though the Lord had sent one of His own bright
+angel-messengers straight from Heaven to help her!
+
+She runs towards her eagerly; the Captain looks up, and turns to greet
+her young friend with a welcoming smile.
+
+"Betty Langdale! My dear, I have been hoping every day to meet you."
+
+"O Captain, I am so miserable! I've been so foolish, so wicked; I've
+made a dreadful mistake, and I don't know how to put it right. Do, _do_
+tell me what I ought to do!"
+
+Captain Scott takes the girl's trembling hand, and looks attentively at
+her pale face and the dark rings under her eyes. Then she kisses the
+shabby little children all round, promising to come again soon, and,
+turning again to Betty, slips her hand through the girl's arm, and
+begins to walk slowly up the street.
+
+"Tell me your trouble, dear. Perhaps it is not so bad as you suppose,"
+she says, gently.
+
+"Oh, but it is!" and Betty pours out the sad little story of her quarrel
+and its consequences. She does not spare herself; as nearly as she can
+recollect she repeats her exact words.
+
+"You have been to the Lord about this, Betty?" asks the Captain,
+gravely.
+
+"Oh, yes, I've prayed and prayed, and sometimes it seems as though I
+ought to beg Bob's pardon; but then, you know, he should _not_ buy a
+violin just now, no matter how cheap it is--we can't afford _anything_,
+and he was wrong to worry me when I was doing the accounts, wasn't he?"
+
+"Certainly he seems to have acted rather selfishly and unreasonably.
+But, Betty, you must remember that he does not know this. If you really
+mean to help your brother, you will have to teach him to understand
+many things that are dark to him now. Then, too, dear, you must learn to
+put yourself in his place. He had evidently been dwelling a good deal on
+the thought that you would think it very clever of him to learn the
+violin. Boy-like, he had most likely forgotten the family troubles for
+the moment, and was trying to 'show off' before you. You had once said
+you wished him to learn, and no doubt he now thinks you very unkind and
+changeable because you discourage him."
+
+"But, Captain, just think--father in the hospital, all the accounts and
+rent-collecting to do, no money scarcely----"
+
+"Yes, yes, but Bob has not thought of all that. He has never heard the
+Lord's voice calling him. He lives in a world of his own. You must learn
+to get into his world, to read his thoughts, to make him feel that in
+you he has a real friend. Step by step, dear, you must lead him to his
+Saviour."
+
+"But he won't listen. He'll hardly answer when I speak!"
+
+"My dear, it is that very barrier between you which you must find a way
+to break down."
+
+"Oh, Captain! how? How _can_ I make Bob understand that I want to help
+him?" asks Betty almost despairingly.
+
+"Perhaps you could show some interest in his music. Do you play at all
+yourself?"
+
+"The piano--just a little."
+
+"And, evidently, you have a good ear. Couldn't you offer to show him how
+to get his violin in tune?"
+
+Betty shakes her head. "I'm afraid he's much too vexed to let me try.
+Oh, wait! I've thought of something. Couldn't I buy him a new
+violin-string? I believe one snapped just before we had that wretched
+quarrel. It would only cost a few pence, I should think."
+
+"Well, my child, I must leave all that to you. Do what you can to make
+up for your share in the dispute; only be sure to show Bob that he must
+not act selfishly; that he certainly ought to deny himself any
+amusement, however good in itself it may be, that would take money which
+is needed at home.
+
+"Speak quietly to him, dear. Remember the Lord's words: '_If thy brother
+shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and
+him alone; if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother._'
+
+"Ah! Betty, this is your first real attempt to lead some one you love to
+think of higher things. God grant you may become a real soul-winner one
+day!
+
+"Be very prayerful, very loving, very wise. Use all the faculties the
+Lord has given you, give your whole self to His service, and trust Him!
+God bless you! I shall pray for you and for your brother too," and
+Captain Janet clasps Betty's hand warmly and leaves her.
+
+What a change the Captain's words have wrought in Betty's thoughts! She
+is no longer conscious of a heavy burden, for all her heart is filled
+with courage and eager hopefulness.
+
+A soul-winner! Does Captain really think she may be that one day? Oh,
+how beautiful--how wonderful! A flood of joy, pure and sweet, rushes
+over her heart at the thought. Never, even with dear Grannie, even among
+the breezy moors, and blue hills, and clear skies of Grannie's home, has
+she felt a delight so intense. It is, indeed, as though she had caught a
+glimpse of Heaven.
+
+Ah! what does it matter though she does live in a dull, city street;
+though her days must be spent in common-place work? It is the Lord
+alone who can give true happiness, and to none who serve Him in spirit
+and in truth does He deny His gift.
+
+"Bob, is this the right kind of string? You wanted a new one, I know.
+The woman at the shop said it would most likely be the E string that
+required renewing."
+
+Bob, taken completely off his guard, looks up eagerly from his tea and
+bread and butter. "Yes, that's it; that's just what I----" He stops
+short, suddenly remembering his determination never to speak of his
+violin to Betty again.
+
+"It _is_ right? Now I call that fortunate," goes on Betty, quietly. "I
+expect you know how to put it in, don't you, Bob?"
+
+Bob melts still further at this. "Oh, yes; Mr. Wright, one of the
+teachers at my school, showed me how to put strings in. It's easy
+enough."
+
+"Ah! but I've heard father say that it's very difficult to get a violin
+in tune after fitting in a new string."
+
+Bob's face clouds over again; but Betty hastens to add, "Couldn't I help
+you a bit with the tuning? Couldn't I sound the notes on the piano while
+you screwed up the string--surely, that is the way people generally do
+tune violins?"
+
+"Yes; but----"
+
+"But what, Bob, dear?"
+
+"You've got those accounts to do, or something."
+
+"Oh, I've done for to-day. Come, I shall enjoy it, not the music, just
+yet, perhaps, but I should enjoy helping you, Bob."
+
+Bob makes no answer to this; but directly tea is finished he runs
+upstairs for the violin-case, and the brother and sister are soon seated
+together before the shabby little piano.
+
+For the next half-hour there is little heard between them, save--"Too
+sharp, Bob." "A little lower still." "I say, Betty, give us the octave
+of that note," and so on. At last the instrument is really in tune, and
+then the pair try an exercise together, with fairly good results. Bob is
+delighted.
+
+"Why, Betty, this is first-class! Mr. Wright said I ought to get some
+one to play with me."
+
+"I should just love to do it, Bob."
+
+There is a long pause. Betty feels she ought to say something more, but
+doesn't know how to begin.
+
+[Illustration: "A little lower still."]
+
+"I say, Betty"--Bob is speaking in quite a different tone of voice
+now--"I say, you didn't really think I meant to _buy_ the violin, did
+you?"
+
+"Why, Bob, didn't you say so?"
+
+"No; I said I'd take it if it suited me. Charlie Wright--my teacher's
+boy, you know--wanted to change it away for my old camera."
+
+"O Bob, I'm so glad--so very, very glad. Oh, why didn't you tell me
+before?"
+
+"I meant to; but you took a fellow up so."
+
+"Ah! I see just how it all happened. You must remember that I feel so
+anxious about every penny while father is away, and, Bob, I do want us
+all to think for one another, and--and"--Betty makes a great
+effort--"and try to live just as the Lord would have us live, Bob."
+
+Dead silence. Betty's heart beats rapidly. Then come the most unexpected
+words she has ever heard in her life.
+
+"You _do_ try."
+
+"Bob! O Bob, don't say that. I don't deserve it!"
+
+"Yes, you do, Betty. Do you think I haven't seen you trying? Come, come,
+old girl, don't cry."
+
+"No--no, Bob; only I'm so happy. I----" Betty cannot trust her voice
+just now to pronounce another word.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+FATHER AT HOME
+
+
+"Father coming home?" cries Betty, as Mrs. Langdale folds up the letter,
+from which she has just read an extract, "O mother, how beautiful,
+coming home the day after to-morrow!"
+
+"How jolly!" shouts Bob. "Three cheers for father!" "Jolly, jolly, three
+cheers!" echo the younger children; and mother says:--
+
+"Well, it _is_ good news. Such a dreadful time it has been. I declare
+I've not felt quite myself one single minute since he went away. And,
+then, the money, too; not that he'll be well enough to go on with his
+work for months to come."
+
+To Betty, however, the one joyful fact is enough.
+
+"But to have father home again! It seems almost years since that night
+when he lay on the couch, so white and still. I say, mother, do let us
+give him a real welcome home--do let us make him see how glad we all
+are!"
+
+"Why, Betty, what a girl you are! You really should think before you
+speak. You know very well that we haven't a penny to spend on anything."
+
+"Of course, I know. But, mother, that isn't what I mean. Couldn't we
+_do_ something? For instance, I'm sure dear father likes to see things
+neat and nice. Couldn't we have a real big, spring-clean all over the
+house?"
+
+"A 'spring' clean in summer, you silly child!"
+
+"Well, you know what I mean. Let's have the curtains down, and the
+carpets up, and polish the furniture all over."
+
+"That's a jolly good idea of yours, Betty," cries Bob, enthusiastically.
+"And I tell you what, you've helped me ever so much lately, now I'll
+just turn round and help _you_. I'm off to get the small pincers from
+father's tool chest. Won't I have the carpets up in no time! If we all
+work together we shall soon get the job done."
+
+Betty gives her brother a grateful look, but mother says:--
+
+"I don't think your father will care a bit whether the house is tidy or
+not. He has never said a word to me about the place all the years we've
+lived here."
+
+"Oh, but think! Coming straight from the hospital. We must make
+everything bright and cheerful. Poor father! Mother, do you feel well
+enough to wash and iron the curtains?"
+
+"Yes, I'll do them; and Clara must clean the windows. But, really, I
+don't see the use of all this fuss and upset."
+
+"I'll wash all the ornaments and clean the pictures," says quiet Lucy.
+
+"O Betty, may we darn up the holes in the chair-covers?" cry Jennie and
+Pollie, mindful of their work as Dorcas and her neighbours.
+
+"I'll black everybody's boots," volunteers Harry. There is a general
+laugh at this, but Bob calls out that he needs Harry's help with the
+stair-carpets immediately.
+
+So Betty has a houseful of volunteer helpers, and pretty difficult she
+finds it to manage them all. But she is blessed with a clear head, and,
+as every one is working for love, and really tries to do his or her
+best, a great deal of work is got through in the course of the day.
+
+Clara comes out splendidly. "Master coming home? O miss, that _is_
+news! Brighten up the house? I should think we would brighten it up,
+just as neat as a new pin all over."
+
+What a topsy-turvy house it is all the rest of the day! Bob and Harry
+beating carpets in the back-yard as though their lives depended on it;
+Lucy perpetually polishing glass, and washing china. Jennie and Pollie
+busy with their needles; mother ironing in the kitchen; Clara sweeping,
+scrubbing, and black-leading; Betty all over the house, encouraging,
+directing, and doing a bit of everything by turns.
+
+Bread and cheese for dinner, and a cup of tea at tea-time, taken in the
+stuffy little kitchen. Yet not a single grumble from any one--even from
+Bob, who _is_ a trifle particular about his meals, as a general rule!
+
+How utterly tired out Betty is when at last she gets to bed! Tired out,
+but happier in her home than perhaps she has ever been before. Bustle,
+confusion, dust, hard work, yes; but brothers and sisters all helping
+each other, all working together, all eagerly looking forward to seeing
+dear father.
+
+The same thing goes on all the next day, but now the confusion is fast
+changing into order, and when the following morning arrives--the
+morning of the eventful day that is to see father's return--the house is
+cleaner and fresher than Betty ever remembers to have seen it.
+
+It is four o'clock in the afternoon. Bob, his hands in his pockets, is
+going from room to room, surveying his share in the work with great
+pride. Lucy is arranging a few cheap flowers in a glass, the children
+are all on tiptoe with excitement. Betty has gone to the hospital to
+fetch father home!
+
+"There they are, mother. Quick, here's father!"
+
+Father; crutches under his arms, one foot held away from the ground by a
+long sling passing over his shoulders; but father, for all that; his
+eyes shining with love, as his noisy boys and girls rush towards him,
+followed by Mrs. Langdale.
+
+"Gently, gently, young folks, or you'll tumble father right over."
+
+"Well, it's good to be at home again. Why, mother, how cosy everything
+looks. One needs to be away from home for a time, I suppose, just to
+find out how good it is!"
+
+"It was all Betty's doing," cries Bob. "We all worked at the
+cleaning-up, but she started it."
+
+Father sinks into the low couch. His leg is still very stiff and
+painful; but he smiles happily, and gazes all round with such a
+contented look in his kind eyes that even Mrs. Langdale is struck with
+it.
+
+"Well, I declare, I do believe you were right after all. Your father
+does seem quite pleased with everything, and I thought he never noticed
+how the house looked at all!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+LUCY
+
+
+For some days after father's return Betty has eyes and ears for scarcely
+anyone else. To see his dear face, to listen to his dear voice, is such
+a true delight to her!
+
+Then, too, his presence relieves her from a great responsibility. True,
+he is much too lame, as yet, to collect the rents, or to call on Mr.
+Duncan; but he takes all those tiresome accounts off her hands at once.
+It is as though an actual weight had been lifted from her shoulders, for
+she has felt the anxiety of keeping Mr. Duncan's books a heavy burden
+indeed.
+
+But though Betty is deeply thankful to be rid of it all, she is
+beginning to realise how good this responsibility has been for her.
+
+"I used to make such a fuss over little things," she thinks. "Why, I was
+quite upset if the girls came in with torn frocks, and dirty faces, or
+Clara did not clean the kitchen properly; worse still, I used to behave
+quite rudely to mother if she forgot to arrange the dinner in good time,
+or made me close a window when I thought it ought to be open. How
+irritable, how unreasonable I was! How hasty and inconsiderate!
+
+"Ah! yes. I see now that God _had_ to send me all these worries; I
+couldn't learn how to bear little troubles, until I had been through big
+ones. Dear Captain said that in a happy home every one had his or her
+true place. It was certainly never my place to speak to mother as I used
+to do.
+
+"Yes, I believe mother has really loved me better than I deserved. Poor
+mother! Her life is much duller than mine; she has never had such a
+friend as my dear Captain Scott; she has never been in the country to
+stay with darling Grannie; she has just lived on at home, year after
+year.
+
+"Why, it wasn't until I spent that lovely time with Grannie that I saw
+how much nicer things could be made here, and now I really believe they
+_are_ nicer. I'm sure every one seems more cheerful lately. Jennie and
+Pollie have greatly improved; I'm so thankful to see that they have
+really taken little Minnie White as a close friend; she is a true Army
+Junior, and will do them a world of good.
+
+"Harry doesn't seem _quite_ so rough, and as for Bob, well, he's a
+perfect dear about those violin exercises now. I'm sure that half-hour
+we have together over the piano is one of the sweetest in the whole day;
+and, really, 'Exercise No. 4' is beginning to sound quite pretty.
+
+"The only person in the house I can't altogether make out is Lucy; she
+certainly isn't all a sister should be, somehow. She does her share of
+the work, I suppose; but I declare I know more of Bob's thoughts than I
+do of hers--she lives in a perfect world of her own.
+
+"She reads too much; I never knew such a girl for reading--always over
+some book or other. I mean to speak to her pretty plainly about that,
+directly I get an opportunity."
+
+Alas! opportunities for speaking "pretty plainly" come only too easily.
+
+The next day is washing day. Clara Jones's mother comes in to help;
+mother spends the whole day in the kitchen, and, of course, Betty has
+plenty to do.
+
+By dint of almost superhuman exertions, Betty manages to inspire Clara
+and her mother with a desire to get the work cleared up before tea,
+instead of dawdling over the tubs until late into the evening. Her
+efforts are successful; by half-past four they have actually finished,
+and Betty looks forward to a rest, and cup of tea. She will ask Lucy to
+make it directly.
+
+"Lucy!" she calls. No answer. "Where can that girl be? 'Lucy!' She must
+come--she ought to come; this is really too bad!"
+
+She runs upstairs, still calling, "Lucy, Lucy!" She peeps into every
+room; there is no Lucy to be found.
+
+At last a thought strikes her. "Surely she hasn't hidden herself away to
+read in the attic?" Betty's anger rises. Lucy is in the attic, sitting
+all huddled up in a chair, poring intently over a book; books, and pen
+and ink, on the floor beside her.
+
+"Lucy, what on earth are you doing here? And to-day, of all days! I've
+been searching the whole house to find you; we all want our tea, and you
+are calmly amusing yourself with a book!"
+
+"Tea? It isn't tea-time yet, is it?" stammers Lucy, her pale face
+flushing painfully red, as she pushes her book out of Betty's sight.
+
+"You know I always like tea early on washing-day," cries Betty, still
+more sharply, "and I must say, I do think it most selfish and
+thoughtless of you to go away by yourself like this, when we are all up
+to our eyes in work!"
+
+"I didn't know; I thought the washing was finished," says poor Lucy, her
+lip beginning to quiver.
+
+"That's nothing to do with it; we're all tired and want our tea; but you
+never gave that a thought; all you seem to care for is to get away by
+yourself to read some silly story-book. Such shocking waste of time!
+Such unsociable behaviour! I only hope you are not reading novels. I am
+sure it looks as though you come up here sometimes because you are
+afraid to let father and mother know what you are doing!"
+
+Lucy's head droops lower still, but she makes no answer.
+
+"Well, now, _is_ it a novel?"
+
+"No-o."
+
+"Then let me see it at once."
+
+"Betty, I'd rather you didn't; that is, not just now; some other day,
+perhaps----"
+
+"Oh, it doesn't make any difference; whatever it is, you've no business
+to waste your time in this way. Do, for goodness' sake, leave books
+alone for a while, and attend to your work!"
+
+That night Betty goes to sleep with an uneasy sense that the day has not
+been altogether well spent, in spite of the success of her washing
+schemes.
+
+Awakening, some hours later, with this uncomfortable feeling strong upon
+her, she begins to ask herself what has been wrong? Conscience soon
+tells her that she has been unkind to her sister.
+
+"I _did_ speak sharply, and I certainly felt very vexed; but, then, it
+was aggravating, and there is really too much to do in our house for
+that sort of thing.
+
+"Of course, I know that Lucy is not so old, or so strong, as I am; but
+she should have remembered how much I like an early cup of tea on
+washing-day, and----. What was that? Lucy, did you speak?"
+
+Betty breaks off her meditations hastily, and raises herself on her
+elbow. Is Lucy asleep on the pillow beside her--surely, she spoke just
+now?
+
+She is speaking, or, rather, muttering, in her sleep. How strange! Can
+she be ill?
+
+Then Betty remembers, with a faint thrill of alarm, that Lucy ate
+neither tea nor supper; and, when mother asked the reason, she said her
+head ached.
+
+For a long while she lies awake, listening to her sister's uneasy
+whisperings. "Oh," she thinks, "why was I so unkind to her--suppose she
+should be really ill?"
+
+Lucy is really ill. After a troubled night of feverish dreaming, she
+awakes to a consciousness of great pain and stiffness in all her limbs.
+A doctor is sent for; her parents' worst fears are realised, Lucy is
+stricken down with rheumatic fever.
+
+She is very quiet and patient, and tries hard not to complain. Her
+mother nurses her, relieved by Betty now and then.
+
+Love has taught Mrs. Langdale to be a good nurse; love makes her forget
+her own small illnesses and worries, and think only of her poor little
+daughter's suffering.
+
+The remembrance of her unkind words gives Betty bitter pain. Lucy was
+ill when she scolded her. Oh, if she had known!
+
+After a while, as Lucy grows better, Betty begins to excuse herself
+again. "She _did_ read too much; I was right in that, and reading is
+waste of time--only I wish I hadn't been so cross with her."
+
+Slowly the pain grows less, slowly the fever cools; but, alas! for poor
+Lucy, the doctor says he fears that this illness will leave lasting bad
+effects behind it; that, though she will soon be fairly well, she will
+never be quite as strong again as she has been.
+
+One afternoon, Betty is sitting with her sister, while Mrs. Langdale
+rests. Lucy has just finished her basin of bread and milk, and Betty
+thinks she is asleep, until she hears her sigh softly to herself, and
+then make a restless movement on her pillow.
+
+Betty is at her side in an instant.
+
+"Do you want anything, Lucy?"
+
+"No, thank you, Betty," she says, in her weak, patient voice. But Betty
+sees that two large tears are rolling down her cheeks.
+
+"O Lucy, you mustn't fret, that's ever so bad for you, and, besides,
+you're getting well so fast. Shall I read to you? You were very
+interested in some book just before you were taken ill--tell me where to
+find it."
+
+"No, no, Betty, not that book; it's of--no--use--now." Lucy's lips
+quiver so painfully, that she can hardly pronounce the words, and she
+buries her face in her pillow.
+
+"Lucy, don't! Oh, please, don't! I was horrid to you that day, and I've
+been sorry ever since. Do let me read, if it's only to make up a
+little."
+
+[Illustration: Her arm around her sister's neck.]
+
+"But, Betty, it's of no use. I can never, never, never do it now. I
+heard the doctor tell mother this morning that I should always have to
+be careful, or I should be just as bad again, and--and--it's only really
+strong people who can do--what I wanted to do." Lucy's voice dies away
+into such a faint whisper that her sister can only just catch the last
+words.
+
+"Do what?" asks Betty, in great surprise. Then, suddenly, an idea
+strikes her. "Ah! Lucy, were you studying for something all the
+time--not just reading to amuse yourself--were you learning about some
+work you wished to do?"
+
+"Yes, Betty."
+
+"And all these months I have never thought of that. Oh, what was it?
+Come, tell me, Lucy, dear."
+
+"I--I wanted to go to the poor heathen women in India, some day, you
+know. I had read how they suffered, and--and it seemed that God was
+telling me to go. So I got all the books I could about India--to be
+ready when the time came--and I read, and read, and even began to learn
+their language."
+
+"Why, Lucy, how _could_ you do that?" exclaims Betty, in the greatest
+astonishment.
+
+"My music teacher's elder sister came home from India a little while
+ago, and she told me what books to get from the Library."
+
+"And you did all this, and I never guessed. How stupid--how blind I have
+been!"
+
+"No--no, Betty. I ought to have confided in you; but, somehow, I
+couldn't speak of it. I felt it too much, and now it is all at an end,"
+and her sobs break out afresh.
+
+But Betty leans over the bed, and lovingly draws her arm around her
+sister's neck.
+
+"O Lucy, I feel that you forgive me for my unkindness, but I cannot
+forgive myself. When shall I get out of the habit of judging too
+hastily? I can see quite well now that you couldn't tell me your plans,
+because I was always so full of my own affairs."
+
+"Betty, Betty, that wasn't the reason. You work so hard for all of
+us--how could I bother you with my hopes and fears?"
+
+"Ah, Lucy! I never met anyone with so much to do, or so many folks to
+care for as my dear Captain. Yet no one thinks _her_ too busy to listen
+to their troubles. I must learn to be more like her--to empty my heart
+of self--then, dear, you will never hesitate to tell me everything."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+COMRADES
+
+
+"Clara, what _is_ the matter with you? You seem to be always fretting
+about something lately. Now I really must know. Is there anything wrong
+at your home?"
+
+"No--o," comes in muffled tones from Clara. She has her head turned
+away, and takes care Betty shall not catch a glimpse of her face.
+
+Betty steps quickly across the kitchen, and lays a hand on the girl's
+shoulder. It quivers under her touch; yes, Clara is certainly crying.
+
+"Clara, you must tell me what it is. I can't have you going about the
+house with this miserable face--just when you were beginning to get on
+so much better, too."
+
+"Beginning to get on better! O miss that's just where it is!" cries
+Clara, with a sudden burst of tears. "I _can't_ get on better. I try and
+try, and make no end of good resolutions--cart-loads of them--and then
+I go and break them all again directly. Seems as though my head was no
+better than a sieve--I can't remember; it's of no use--Oh, Oh, Oh!"
+
+"Clara, Clara, don't, there's a dear girl. And you have been doing
+better--ever so much; father was saying so to me only yesterday."
+
+"But you don't know how hard it is--you don't know how dreadfully I
+forget; and then I think, 'Oh, what's the use of trying? I'd far better
+give it all up, and just muddle along as I used to do.'"
+
+But Betty thinks, "Ah, that's just how it used to be with me, before I
+went to Grannie's, before I went to The Army Meetings near Grannie's
+home, and gave my heart to God. I have felt like that sometimes since;
+but only for a little while, for the Lord has always helped me through
+the bad times. It is only the Lord who _can_ help us through. I ought to
+tell Clara that--I _must_ tell her!"
+
+There is a moment's pause. Betty is nervous, and doesn't know how to
+begin. She makes an effort.
+
+"Clara," she says softly. "Clara, have you ever tried to understand
+those words in the Bible, '_Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose
+mind is stayed on Thee_'?"
+
+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 apron, 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 passed, 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 shield 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
+apron clean. But it is not at hair or at dress that Betty is looking,
+not even at the shield-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.
+
+[Illustration: 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!"
+
+"God bless you, Clara!"
+
+"God 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 passed 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 sunshine, 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 passes 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 lass 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!
+
+[Illustration: 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.
+
+"And now I am anxious no longer. With what a thankful heart I write the
+words! Yes, now indeed, I see that the Lord Jesus Christ reigns alone in
+your heart; now I know that you are happy, and making those around you
+happy also. Thank the Lord, Betty, for the blessing He is sending on
+your work in your home!"
+
+And Betty does thank Him with a grateful heart. She feels indeed like
+the Psalmist, that her cup runs over with blessings; her home seems to
+be now most beautiful.
+
+"Betty, what would you like best in all the world--that is, of all the
+things I could give you?" whispers mother that night.
+
+Betty knows the answer to that question well enough. "To--to be allowed
+to go to The Army Meetings," she says, in a husky voice, her heart
+beating thickly.
+
+"I thought so. Well, father and I have decided to let you go, if you
+still really wish it."
+
+"You'll let me go? Oh, mother--mother!" and Betty's hands are tightly
+clasped about her mother's neck.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
+
+By COMMISSIONER MILDRED DUFF
+
+
+=The Life of Jesus.= A quarto picture book with a lesson for every
+Sunday in the year. Cloth and Picture Boards.
+
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+
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+
+=Rude Rosa.= A Story for Girls. Cloth.
+
+=Rosa's Resolve.= A Sequel to above. Cloth.
+
+=Novelties, and How to Make Them.= Cloth.
+
+
+By COMMISSIONER MILDRED DUFF and NOEL HOPE
+
+                     Cloth
+
+=Where Moses Went to School; or, Scenes in Ancient Egypt.=
+
+=Where Moses Learnt to Rule; or, Scenes in the Wilderness.=
+
+=Hezekiah the King; or, The City Defended by God.=
+
+=Esther, the Queen; or, Life in Ancient Palace of Shushan.=
+
+=Daniel, the Prophet; or, The Boy with a Purpose.=
+
+=The Bible in its Making: The most wonderful Book in the World.=
+
+=Mart, The Mill Girl.= A Story for Girls.
+
+=Fenella's Fetters; or, Unseen Chains.= The Story of a Wayward Girl.
+
+=The Lawson Girls; or, Tinder and Flint.= The interesting history of the
+inmates of Laburnum Cottage.
+
+=Jolly, the Joker.= A Life-Saving Scout Story.
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+
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+
+=Crotchets and Quavers; or, The Making of the Brixwell Young People's
+Band.= A Book for young Band Members.
+
+=Betty's Battles.= An Everyday Story.
+
+=Jabez the Unlucky.= A Tale of the Jungle.
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+       *       *       *       *       *
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+             Mother. By Commissioner DUFF.
+
+     " 2. =A School of the Prophets.= A Sketch of Training College Life.
+           By a Scholar.
+
+     " 3. =Our War in South Africa.= Our early work on the Dark
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+
+     " 4. =The Warrior's Daily Portion. No. I.= Extracts from the
+           Founder's Writings, arranged for one month. By Brigadier EILEEN
+           DOUGLAS.
+
+     " 5. =The Way of Holiness.= How to obtain Full Salvation. By
+           Colonel BRENGLE, D.D.
+
+     " 6. =Kingdom-Makers in Shelter, Street, and Slum.= Describing the
+           work of our Slum Officers amongst the poor. By MARGARET ALLEN.
+
+     " 7. =Three Coronations.= Sketches of the Lives of Major Deva
+           Vadivu, Staff-Captain Stabb, and Mrs. Major Smith. By
+           Commissioner DUFF.
+
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+           of Alsace. By Commissioner OLIPHANT.
+
+     " 9. =Farmer Abbott.= An Old-time Soul-winner. By MARGARET ALLEN.
+
+     " 10. =The Warrior's Daily Portion. No. II.= A Companion to No. 4
+            of this Series. By Brigadier EILEEN DOUGLAS.
+
+     " 11. =Hedwig von Haartman.= The Life of our Finnish Pioneer. By
+            Commissioner DUFF.
+
+     " 12. =Gerhard Tersteegen.= The Life of a Singing Soul-winner. By
+            Commissioner OLIPHANT.
+
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+            Warrior. By Commissioner BOOTH TUCKER.
+
+     " 14. =Bernard of Clairvaux.= The Abbot with a passion for God. By
+            MARGARET ALLEN.
+
+     " 15. =Harvests of the East.= Bird's-eye Views of Work in Eastern
+            Lands. By MARGARET ALLEN.
+
+     " 16. =A Kindled Flame.= Story of Hilda--a Princess who gave
+            herself to God. By MARGARET ALLEN.
+
+     " 17. =Elizabeth Fry.= The Quaker Friend of Prisoners. By Brigadier
+            EILEEN DOUGLAS.
+
+     " 18. =Children of India.= Vividly illustrating Child-life in
+            India. By HAROLD BEGBIE.
+
+            Full list with prices on application to
+
+          SALVATIONIST PUBLISHING & SUPPLIES, LIMITED
+     117, 119 & 121 Judd Street, King's Cross, London, W.C. 1
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+Added missing words: "the bed" page 20 (Lucy is sleeping peacefully on
+her pillow by the side of the bed that Betty has just left.)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Betty's Battles, by S. L. M.
+
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