"But," replied Amy, "mamma, when she told me the story, said that we all had the promise of much greater things given us at our baptism, and so it did not signify."
"What do you mean, Amy?" asked Dora, in a tone of extreme surprise.
"Great things promised us at our baptism! I never knew anything I had
either given or promised me then, excepting my name, and my old purple
Bible and Prayer-book."
"Oh Dora!" exclaimed Amy, "pray do not talk so; I am sure it must be very wrong; for mamma says that it has been the greatest thing in all my life, and that if I do as I promised I would then, I shall be quite sure of being happy when I die: and every year, on the day of my baptism, she makes me read over the service, and talks to me about it."
"Then it is very strange, that is all I can say," replied Dora, "I never in my life before heard any one say that baptism was any good besides giving a child a name."
Amy looked still more shocked. "Oh! but Dora," she said, very gravely, "indeed, it must be a great good; for you know when we were baptized, God gave us His Holy Spirit, that we might be able to do our duty."
"I don't understand what you mean, Amy," said Dora, hastily, "and I don't think you understand yourself, so we will not talk any more about it. Do, Margaret, go on about Emily Morton."
"I will," said Margaret, "if you will not interrupt me so. It was last year, Amy, on the day of the fete; and two of my aunts, mamma's sisters, and my uncle, Sir Henry Charlton, came to Wayland to keep it. Uncle Henry knows a great deal about drawing, and he always likes to see ours; and he had promised us a long time before, that if we could show him six good drawings on papa's birthday, he would give us each a beautiful picture done by one of the first artists in London. I worked very hard at first, and then I got a little tired, but I made sure I should be able to finish them in time; only, somehow or other, I was so hurried at last, for we had some new dresses to be tried on, and there were some songs to be practised, and there were a good many people staying in the house, that I had only five finished. I was in a great fright, and my only hope was that uncle Henry would not count them; but, in the morning, after he had looked at Dora's, I watched him count them, and then I thought I had no chance; but when I came to show mine, I found that by mistake one of Emily Morton's had got amongst them, which made them just right, and she was not in the room, so I had no fear of anything being said; and it was such a beauty I was sure my uncle would be pleased. Well! he looked at them all, and said they were very good, and was admiring Emily Morton's especially, when, to my great horror, in she came, and he immediately called out to her to look at the drawings with him. I could not imagine what to do; and at last I thought perhaps she would be good-natured for once in her life, so I went to her directly, and whispered all about it, and asked her to let it pass, or I should lose my beautiful picture; and really, Amy, it was worth a great deal of money; and, do you know, she actually declared she would not do it. I know I looked miserable, and I never begged so hard for anything in my life; and at last I was obliged to give it up, for uncle Henry began to wonder what we were talking about, and so I ran out of the room, and then it all came out. And there was such a great fuss; uncle Henry preached me a sermon, and papa and mamma were so cross; in fact, I never got into such a scrape in my life before, and all because of Emily Morton. Now, shouldn't you hate her, Amy, if you were me?"
Amy was silent.
"Oh!" continued Margaret, "you could not be so unkind as to take her part."
"But," said Amy, "it seems as if she were right."