"No better; only that it is so easy."
"I would not trouble myself about that. Depend upon it, my dear, any faithful, self-denying Christian life involves plenty of hardness. But it is no sign that you are to give up the missionary work because you cannot go abroad. There is plenty to be done for it at home. Now I think you are tired enough, and had better lie down and have a good long rest. Try to take up the cross honestly, my child. It is the only way. 'If thou bear the cross, the cross also will bear thee.'"
And Marion did try, and succeeded. It was very hard to give up her cherished plans—hard to lay aside and say farewell to the object which had occupied her so long, to take up with such a quiet and unobserved part after looking forward to a position so much more conspicuous. But she knew where to look for help, and she looked and found it.
Her mother's words on hearing the decision brought her her first comfort:
"I can't help being thankful, Marion, my dear—not that you are disappointed, of course, but that I am not to lose you. I did feel as if I wanted my daughter at home."
So Doctor and Mrs. Campbell went back to Syria, whither Mrs. Andrews meant to follow them as soon as she had seen Stanley settled. Her own health was quite re-established, and her heart yearned toward her own work. Therese had had thoughts at one time of going, too, but it was not to be. Mrs. Tremaine met with an accident about the time old Madam Duval died which made her a cripple for the rest of her life. Kitty sent at once for Therese, who fell into her own place in the family, not to leave it again.
And Marion settled down quietly at home, helping her mother, teaching Amity's little ones, and painting pictures, by the sale of which she supported a little girl in the school she once expected to teach. But other work has come to her of late. Two or three years ago she received a letter from Doctor Campbell in which occurred the following paragraph:
"Poor Mrs. Brown, who has been languishing so long, is released at last. She leaves two dear little girls of eight and six years old. Mr. Brown wants to send them home for their education, but neither he nor his wife has any near friends, and he does not know what to do with them, as they are too young to trust in school. Can you think of any one who would take them and give them a home and an education? Perhaps there may be some one in Holford. Mr. Brown is not rich, of course, but he is able to provide for his children at any reasonable rate. They are dear little things, and well trained so far."
Marion read this letter to her father in his office at the tannery.
He smiled when he heard of the children, but made no remark.