Only yesterday, everything had seemed so bright—only yesterday, Jennie had resolved to give herself to God entirely, had felt a waking up to work in His cause, and promised that at Easter she would be confirmed. But now, how fearfully she had failed! It was always so! she could not keep her resolutions, there was no use in trying—she knew it would never be any better.
All her life long she would have that struggle about getting up in the morning, and she so disliked that same dull, every-day work. If it were only right to do just what one pleased! A wild, thrilling wish filled her heart that it were so, and for an instant, the chains that conscience and a sense of duty cast around her, seemed too galling to be borne. Sad, discouraged, and restless, she tossed from side to side of the bed, making herself more miserable by indulging in her sinful thoughts.
Presently a hand touched her cheek, and Miss Lane said: “Come, Jennie, get up; brush your hair, and I will help you to find your thimble—the day is passing away.”
Mechanically she obeyed, bathing her face and hands, smoothing her hair, and feeling more cheerful for the pleasant smile beaming upon her all the time.
“When had you your thimble last?”
“Yesterday, I believe. I was braiding a little at papa’s slipper; but I don’t know where I left my work.”
“Where were you working?”
“Let me see.” She paused to think a minute. “I was sitting on the window-seat in the library. I must have left it there.”
“We’ll go down and look. Have you no place for keeping your things?”
“I have that basket for larger things, but that was not down stairs. It takes so much time to run about, putting things away.”