CHAPTER VI.
CONCLUSION.
“I shall go with you, Madge,” said Bertram; “I do not like your visiting such places alone. My work is quite slack now, since the vacation has commenced. It matters little enough whether I appear at chambers or not.”
So brother and sister went into town together, and soon found the steamy, airless court which was the home of little Allumette. Madge gave a little shudder as she passed into it.
“Oh, Bertram,” she exclaimed suddenly, “I shall never forgive myself if harm has come to her from my neglect! I had been here before. I ought to have remembered what it would be like after taking her out of it for so many weeks.”
“It made her very happy; but perhaps it was a mistake. It is difficult to judge in some cases. One of the lessons we have to learn in life is that there is an element of danger in intermeddling too much with the lives of others, unless we can do something permanent and substantial. We must not rush into responsibilities which are not given us to bear without due thought and consideration; but then we must not, on the other hand, hold back from any effort, lest we should not be quite successful.”
“I rushed my attempt at benevolence!” cried Madge. “When Allumette was with us I was always teaching her and making much of her, and I was quick to promise another holiday, without thinking whether I could be as good as my word. And when I was down there so busy and happy I let it go out of my mind, and could not take any trouble over it. I always put it off till I could carry out my big scheme. Oh, Bertram, I feel as though I were not worthy to attempt anything!”
“Cheer up, Madge! though perhaps that is a better frame of mind than to feel able to attempt anything and everything. There is a worthy old soul signalling to you over there. She seems to know you.”
“It is Mrs. Gregg!” cried Madge eagerly; “she will tell us about little Allumette!”