“Il a——” she began, but the music had ceased and there was a rustle of turning leaves as Margaret took up the Bible.
“On second thought,” she said, “I will ask for a subject. What shall it be, Elsie? You have been out in the world—what need has seemed greatest to you?”
“The strength to bear,” answered Elsie soberly. “It seemed easy to be patient and properly humble in this home of love and appreciation, but in this other world of place-hunting and time-serving the quick retort quite too often besieges my lips. You know, Margaret, it is only the old enemy, and as the horizon widens and I see what life might mean to me if fortune had been kinder, and I realize that I have a nature capable of profiting by the beautiful things of the world, I grow rebellious and dissatisfied. I try every now and then to imagine I am perfectly contented; but all the time I know I am deceiving myself. Help me, Margaret dear, with all your sublime patience and courage, to bear it, and not yearn after the vain things of the world.”
There was a sound of tears in Margaret’s voice as she answered: “Strength must come from within, Elsie. ‘They that dwell in His house’ know where the well of strength is, and ‘the pools are filled with water.’ As for the vain things of this world for which you sigh, the sin of it depends upon what those things are. I think I know your heart well enough to believe they are not selfish follies, but only healthy aspirations for broader fields of culture. I don’t believe in repressing such aspirations. They are as natural to natures like yours as sunshine to flowers. Aside from my unchanging faith in the beneficence of God, I have always found the thought that the duty of to-day may be the pleasure of to-morrow my greatest source of comfort. Let us work faithfully, cheerfully to-day; the way may be a little rough, but after all we shall find many things to gladden it. A note from Antoine’s fiddle, a bit of Elsie’s nonsense, have often made me smile in the midst of the moodiest repinings. Our work now, Elsie, is like the hard digging around the roots of a rose-bush; by and by we shall look up and see its crown of beauty and fragrance, and the roses will be all the sweeter because our hands have sent the thrill along their stems that roused them to life. I haven’t the least fear for my little girl when we re-establish the old home life. Discontent will be left at the door, and aspiration will find wings in Antoine’s fiddle and at the ends of her deft fingers.”
“The first day I ever saw you,” said Antoine to Elsie, “you said your ambition lay all in learning to cook like ma mère. What is the matter with it that it does not satisfy you? Is the grand art of ma mère no art after all?”
“Don’t ask such heretical questions, Antoine! Just ask ma mère if I don’t put heaps of enthusiasm in my work, and make perfect poems in pastry and sonnets in salads, whose proof is in the eating! But one may have a thousand ambitions in the course of a life-time, and to confess the honest truth—Margaret, hide your face!—I’ve just now an absorbing ambition to have a new gown in the very latest style, with velvet all over it and some genuine lace at the throat, and all those refined ladylike things that make you feel so—so satisfied with yourself! See, I bow my head and meekly await the avalanche of reproaches from this virtuous and austere household!”
“Well,” said Gilbert from his corner, “I haven’t any for you; for the threadbare appearance of my knees has filled me with a similar ambition. The fellows at the training school are mostly sons of well-to-do men, and they eye me in a way that doesn’t make me feel so—so satisfied with myself.”
In an instant Elsie jumped from her chair, and patronizingly patting Gilbert’s head exclaimed: “My dear brother, how glad I am to know I’m not the only black sheep of the family! Meg, you see what comes of letting the lambs out in the world’s pastures!”
Just then Elsie, glancing out into the kitchen, caught sight of the amused faces of Lizzette and Herbert Lynn, and consternation, fright, and astonishment so overcame her that she could only stand still and scream.
This at once brought Lizzette and Herbert to the door. “Margaret,” exclaimed Lizzette, “zis ees my old friend, mon garçon Herbeart Lynn, who coming to see his old Lizzette haf ze desire also to know her friends. He haf zair welcome, I believe?”