“Well, Nan, the fact is that the crape could not make her glad, nor the black dress; but the thought that you, her little girl, made it and wore it for love of her would make her glad. It is not the colour of the dress makes her happy; it is the love you put into it.”
“Oh! I don’t quite understand,” said Nan.
“You will when you think it over. You see, she is in white; she has a crown and a harp. That is what we have learnt about those who leave us—that if they have loved God they go into His presence, and their dress is white and glistening, and they have harps to sing to and crowns to wear; and we know the more we love the nearer we get to them. So, Nan, the message your mother has left me is this: ‘Tell Nan to be as good as girl can be—to be the best girl she knows. By being the best she must be the most loving, she must be the most unselfish. She must not wish to be the best to be thought well of by her fellow-men, but she must be the best because God loves those who try to follow Him.’ Do you follow me, Nan, when I say these words?”
“I follow you,” said Nan. “You want me to be good, but I do not think I can; and as to being the best, that I can never be. You want me to have a great deal of love, and I only love mother and Phoebe a little bit. And to-night everything is to be changed; I won’t even have you.”
“I am going to ask Mrs. Richmond to send you to see me sometimes—perhaps once a fortnight or so.”
“Will you?” said Nan. “I think if I could like anything I should like that.”
“I will arrange it then; and perhaps although you do not exactly love me now, you will regard me as your friend and love me presently. But there is something else I want to say. Your mother wished all these things for you, but she knew that you would have certain difficulties in your life. I am sorry to have to tell it to you, my dear little girl, but it is the fact: your mother left you without any money.”
“But mother could scarcely do that, because we had something to live on,” said Nan. “Has mother taken our money away with her up to God?”
“No, dear. In the home where she is now money is not needed; but the little money she had was only to be here during her lifetime. It was what is called an annuity; that means, she could have the use of it for her life, but only for her life. So, my dear little girl, you have no money.”
“Then I expect,” said Nan, drawing herself up and fixing her eyes full on Mr. Pryor’s face, “that I had best go to the workhouse. I can go to the workhouse until I am old enough to take a place as servant; and I would like, please, to go into the same house with Phoebe. Perhaps Mrs. Vincent would have me as her little servant, and Phoebe could teach me.”