And Jessie, who did not feel bound to obey her sister, ran lightly off, hoping poor mother would not be very fiercely talked at by Grace. She herself was clear that work undertaken for God's sake should not be dropped when one's own gain began to clash with it; while Grace, who had always been held up as the model, helpful good daughter, plainly thought, "working for one's family," and securing something extra, was such a reason as to make it a sort of duty to throw over all she had taken up under the spur of that sermon in the spring. Jessie had no headache, but she was weary, vexed, and teased, and
"Stitch, stitch, stitch,
Seam and gusset and band,"
rang in her ears, so that she specially felt rested and soothed by the calm and quiet of Miss Manners's pretty room, with the open windows and the scent of flowers coming in from the garden.
The subject was next Sunday's Gospel, about the Great Supper and the excuse-making guests. Miss Manners read out part of Archbishop Trench's comment on the Parable before she talked to the teachers about what they were to say to their classes; and Jessie felt deeply that to let herself be engrossed by this undertaking, so as to allow no time for her religious duties, would be only too like the guests who went "one to his farm, and another to his merchandise." She was advised to make it a lesson to her class against false or insufficient excuses, such as saying they were late at school because mother wanted them to take a message, when they had dawdled all the way instead of hastening to school. Miss Manners lent the volume of Miss Edgeworth's Rosamond to Jessie, to read the chapter on Excuses to her girls, so as to bring home the lesson, though she was to carry it higher, and put them in mind that if they put their duties aside for these little things now, they would be learning to forget their Heavenly Master for earthly matters, and would never taste of His supper.
It made Jessie doubly and trebly determined that she would not take a lie-a-bed on Sunday morning to make up for loss of rest before, and thus miss the early Celebration on her monthly Sunday. Indeed, she felt drawn to come oftener, if it would not be presuming.
She came home from Church in the summer twilight, when even Grace could not work, and was standing a moment at the door before lighting the lamp.
"Well, miss, I hope you have wasted enough daylight," she said.
"I hope it wasn't quite wasted," said Jessie, cheerfully. "I shall work ever so much quicker for the rest I have had."
And she was as good as her word, and spent an hour in her pleasant embroidery of the pretty white letters of the name which she really delighted in doing, only she would have liked a fresh pattern instead of making all the seventy-two Ninas exactly alike.