“Oh! trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. This is one of the verses which mother told me quiets her mind whenever she is tempted to murmur at her lot. But is not that mother crossing the field? Yes, yes! it is our own dear mother!” And both of the children, with a cry of delight, flew to the door to meet her, carrying their little present in their hands.
WATCHING FOR MOTHER.
But what was the amazement of the girls at the reception which they met with from their mother—from her whom they so tenderly loved and had been so anxiously expecting! Mrs. Benson’s face was flushed, her manner hurried. Not one kiss, not one welcome smile, not one kind word did she give; but waving them away impatiently as they sprang forward to welcome her, “Back, back!” she cried; “don’t touch me!”—and passing them in a moment, she hastened up-stairs to her own room.
Neither of the children could at first utter a word. With open eyes and lips apart, they stood as if transfixed, their surprise and mortification were so great. Then slowly and sadly they retraced their steps, and returned to the room which they had just quitted. Neither spoke for a little while, till Maria, pettishly flinging down the cuff which she had knitted, exclaimed,—
“Who would ever have thought that mother could be so unkind!”
“Unkind? Oh, never, never say such a word!” cried Mary, her own eyes swimming with tears.
“She looked as if she would have pushed me back—me, her own child!—if I had ventured a little nearer; and after not having seen us for so many days! I cannot think what could make her treat us in such a manner!”
“Don’t think, but trust,” faltered her gentle sister. “We may be certain that mother has good reasons of her own. She always loves us, and acts for our good; and though we cannot just now understand what she does, we may be sure, quite sure, that it is wise and kind.”
“Bless you, my child, for your loving trust!” exclaimed her mother, who was at that moment entering the room, and who now pressed her little daughter to her heart more warmly and more tenderly than ever, as though to make up by increasing love for even five minutes’ apparent neglect.