J. H. M.
BESSIE AT SCHOOL.
CHAPTER I.
A SURPRISE.
Bessie lay fast asleep upon mamma's sofa, for she and Maggie had been with Uncle Ruthven and Aunt Bessie for a long drive; and the little one, quite tired, had curled herself up among the cushions, and still was nestling there, unconscious of all that was passing.
Mamma thought it a good thing that her delicate little girl could drop off to sleep so easily, and so gain the rest she needed after any fatigue; but wide-awake Maggie thought it rather a troublesome fashion of Bessie's, and wondered that any one, who was not obliged to do it, could "waste being alive in taking naps."
But just now she did not mind this quite as much as usual, for she was sitting on a low stool at her mother's feet, busy copying a letter to Mrs. Porter which she and Bessie had composed together. For Maggie no longer printed her letters and compositions, but wrote them in a large round hand, quite easy to read. But, in order to do it well, she had to pay close attention to her writing; and, since Bessie could not help her, she was contented to have her lie quietly asleep on the sofa for the time. Mrs. Bradford was leaning back upon the pillows in her easy-chair, looking so pale and thin and weak that even a child could have told that she had been ill.
Indeed she had been—the dear, precious mamma!—so ill, that for some days it seemed as if she were to be taken from her little ones. But the merciful Father above had heard and granted the prayers of all the loving hearts whose earthly happiness she made, and hope and joy came back to the pleasant home from which, for a time, they had flown away. It had been a great delight to Maggie and Bessie to see her walk into the nursery, leaning on papa's arm, that morning; and even baby Annie seemed to know it was something to rejoice at, for she came toddling to her mamma, and hid her face in her skirts, with a sweet, crowing laugh, which was full of joy and love.
And when, a little while after, Bessie sat looking earnestly at her mother, with eyes which seemed as if they could not take their fill, and was asked by her of what she was thinking, the answer was,—
"I was thinking two things, mamma. One was, what a very great thanksgiving we ought to make; and the other was, how very disappointed the angels must be, not to have you in heaven, after all."