“Then, my dear, it seems to me, there is but one thing to be done; you want to bring a clear conscience into your new life. Can’t you see your duty plainly in this case?”
“Yes, I do. Well,—” with a grimace, “I suppose it must be done. Oh, dear, it is not going to be easy at all! I shall be glad to get that Bristol board out of my sight—it is a torture every time I see it.”
“I think you are old enough to know that it would be wrong to finish any one of these things in such haste as not to do it well, Jennie?”
“Yes,” she answered, alarmed at seeing how Miss Lane took it for granted that all must be done. “But, indeed, I shall have no time for Christmas things—and I did so want to knit Alice’s stockings.”
“I know it is a great trial; but you must begin right; and the lesson will have no effect if you get off so easily. I leave it to yourself—you may do as you think best. I should not hesitate if it were myself—the duty is so plain.”
Miss Lane walked out of the room, and Jennie, taking the basket on her lap, sat down, to think intently. In a few minutes she rose, read the morning lessons, said her prayers, and, going to the library, searched perseveringly till she found her thimble. It was on the top shelf, where she had left it in taking down the “Reliques.” Then setting herself to work at her drawing, she became so interested that the dinner-bell startled her quite unpleasantly, and she saw with a thrill that much towards beginning her new life had been done.
CHAPTER IX.
