“Perhaps we will go to see her some day!” said her Aunt Louisa, in a kindly tone. “It is not often we find refinement and the proof of education among those who toil for their daily bread. No matter how gifted the toiler may be by nature, he or she has but little time to improve the gifts of nature.”
“That is only too true!” said Mr. Legare. “And so much the more it becomes the duty of us, who have been blessed with wealth, to use that wealth in helping these rough jewels to see the light. Though I shall leave my children enough for all proper needs and uses—enough for them to hold their station in life and enjoy it—I intend to leave a good bequest for the purpose of aiding the poor who desire an education in literature and art. There are so many in this world who long to rise and cannot, because they are weighed down by poverty’s cruel load.”
“You are right. A nobler use for surplus wealth could not be found,” said the lady, warmly. “I am glad to hear you say this. When I see a man pass away, leaving millions on millions, only to be increased by souls as sordid as his own, I think that he who forgets God’s poor on earth will himself be unknown in heaven. Good words go a great way, but good works go ever so much farther.”
“There! Hear that music!” cried Lizzie; “it is the bell for lunch. Frank will join us at table. Come, Aunt Louisa—come, papa, dear; I am as hungry as a——I don’t know what.”
CHAPTER XIV.
A MARKED CHANGE.
“Ochone! The ould boy has got into the mistress, to be sure, and all to wanst. Here’s real round steak, and I’m ordered to broil it nice for the breakfast, instead of frying it in hog-fat like I used to; and there’s twice as much as we ever had before. And she has got fresh bread in the basket! And Little Jess is cackling round like a pullet after corn, and the mistress said I wasn’t to spake a cross word to her. Sure, I belave the worruld is comin’ to an end. I am to put two cups of ground coffee in the pot instead of one, and I’m not to water the milk any more after the milk-man laves it, but take two quarts instead of one. I do belave the ould maid is a-goin’ crazy. She looks as if she had been a-cryin’ all night; and there’s that Jess a-settin’ the table, and a-singin’ like a little canary. I’d like to slap the jade over; I’d make her sing like a cat with a basin of hot water on its hide!”
Thus Biddy Lanigan heralded the sudden change in her department of Miss Scrimp’s boarding-house. It was evident she did not like it. It gave her a good deal more work—and hotter work; for the steak, formerly fried till too hard to be eatable, on the range, now had to be broiled over hot coals.
“I’ll have a raise o’ wages for this, or I’ll lave,” she uttered, as she turned the juicy steak. For she knew how to cook it nicely when it had to be done. She had ever kept and cooked the best in a proper way for her mistress and herself.
At last, early as the hour was, not fairly light outdoors, the breakfast bell rang, and the girls trooped into the breakfast room.
How Hattie enjoyed their looks of wonder, and then their cries of joy.