"Well, but what?" said Mrs. Ransom, as Nellie hesitated.
"Mamma, I think I'm rather stupid about such things, and I might make you trouble sometimes."
"Not stupid, Nellie; and, if you are willing to learn, I shall be willing to put up with a little trouble now and then, and to excuse mistakes. If you undertake it, I believe you will be faithful and painstaking, as you are about every thing, and that you can really be a great help to me. Will you try it for a week, and see how you like it? By the time that papa comes home again, you will be accustomed to it, and he will not be apt to suffer from the little slips you may make at first."
"Yes, indeed, mamma; and, if you are not tired of such a funny housekeeper as I shall make, I don't think I shall be tired of doing it. Mamma, do you think I could learn to make some cake? those ginger-snaps papa likes?"
"I do not doubt it," said Mrs. Ransom, smiling back into the face that was eager and bright enough now.
"Mamma," said Nellie, "did papa tell you what we were talking about last evening while we were out walking?"
"Yes, dear, he did; and he said he thought our Nellie had sense enough to see what she ought to do, and courage and strength of mind enough to make any sacrifice she felt to be right."
"Courage, mamma?"
"Yes, dear, it often needs much courage—what is called moral courage—to resolve to do what we feel to be a duty, especially if it calls for any sacrifice of our pride or vanity, or of the desire to appear well in the eyes of others."