They all three sat silent for a few moments. The waves—they were hardly more than wavelets, on this still, calm day—came up with their gentle murmur upon the beach; and there was a sort of golden haze upon the sea, and far off on the horizon, telling, perhaps, of a coming fog later in the day: but the sky was clear above them now, and all was bright and fair around.
The quiet and the peace stole into all three little hearts,—God’s peace, which He gives to those who love and trust in Him, and who strive to do His work, and bear His will, with simple faith that He knows best, and will order all things right.
Old Daphne and Jane, each with her work, sat at a little distance, but did not interfere with the children more than to see they did not run into any danger; and were occupied with their own conversation, the burden of which, on Daphne’s side, was the extreme loveliness and sweetness of her young mistress; while each story that she told of Belle’s goodness and smartness was immediately matched with one from Jane of the wisdom and droll sayings of her particular young charge. Each bird sang loud in praise of her own nestling; but the little birds themselves neither heard nor heeded.
“Belle,” said Bessie, after a little, “a thought came into my mind just now; no, not into my mind either. I guess it was into my heart, it was such a thought of love.”
“What was it?” asked Belle, looking as if all thoughts of love were in her heart towards the dear Bessie.
“About your mamma,” said Bessie. “You know your papa said he had to give you a present from her. I just thought if maybe you wouldn’t like to have her present something that by and by would be fit to go back to heaven like a jewel for our Father.”
“Yes, I would,” answered Belle, to whom the oft-repeated, oft-referred-to story was nearly as familiar and as dear as it was to Maggie and Bessie. “Yes, I would; but what thing could I ask for that would be like that? If you want any thing or Maggie, I’ll ask papa for it, and give it to you, liever than to have it myself, you’re so dear and good to me. I would, Bessie.”
“Oh, no, Belle!” said Bessie. “I never would hint you to give me a thing. Mamma says that is not a nice thing to do; and I was thinking of something better than that, something that would be a great, great help to some one, and last a great, great while, maybe for ever.”
“Well,” said Belle, “why don’t you tell me what it is? You know I don’t have a great deal of think in me to find out how to do good for ofers; but I b’lieve I have some do in me when I know how.”
“Yes, you have,” said Maggie, “and some day you’ll learn how to think for yourself. You see you have not been quite so much brought up to it as we have. That’s the mercy of having such a papa and mamma as ours.”