Mrs. Langley looked at her with a shade of sadness in her gentle brown eyes. "My dear, don't say that! It isn't from choice, you know, that I live alone, and it is terribly lonely sometimes. If I had been allowed to have my way, my home would have been as full and noisy as ever yours is; but God saw fit to take them all first, and leave me to follow in His own good time. I expect He has work for me to do first; in fact, I know He has, for He has some special work for each of us, though we don't understand at the time what it is."
Bella felt vexed with herself, as soon as ever the words had left her lips, for she knew quite well the story of the tragedy that had left that home empty—of the fatal epidemic that had taken from it the husband and four children, and left the poor mother alone and heart-broken. Before she could say anything Mrs. Langley's last words arrested her attention.
"Has He got special work for me?" she asked eagerly, her interest swallowing up her shyness for once. "Oh no, He couldn't have, I am so young, and I don't see that there's anything I can do. I only wish there was," she added hopelessly. "I don't seem to be wanted anywhere, and I haven't got any money, and——"
"Don't you make that mistake, dear. It isn't money that's most wanted, it is the wish and the will. Children can do a very great deal, and you especially have many fine opportunities right at your hand, in your own home."
"But Aunt Emma does everything, and she won't let me help."
"I think she would, dear, if you went to work in the right way. Either ask her boldly to give you some part of the work to do, for you would like to help, and you feel you are old enough now; or bide your time, and do all the little things you can, without making any fuss or display. Then, if you do them well, you will find that in time they are left to your care to do always. Even if your aunt will not let you do that much, surely there is plenty to be done outside the house. Your garden is not kept as it was in your mother's time."
"Father doesn't stay at home in the evenings now, like he used to," said Bella, sadly.
"Well, can't you coax him to? Can't you help to make his home more cheerful and comfortable? All this is part of the work God has for you to do, Bella. It seems to me a lot. Can't you show an interest in the garden, and ask your father to help you to make it neat and nice again? I think he would; I am sure he would."
Bella sat with a very thoughtful face, but not such a hopelessly depressed one as she had been wearing. Suddenly, so it seemed to her, a bright light had been flashed upon the road she had to travel, and so many things stood out that she had not seen before, so many hills to climb, so many pleasant valleys to cross, that for a moment she felt awed and silenced. It was cheering and bracing to feel that she was needed, that, after all, there was work for her to do. Lots of work!
"And then there are the boys and Margery. You have many duties to them, dear. They have no mother, and you are left to take her place, as far as you can, and make their lives happy, and teach them to be good. Oh, there is so much for you to do, child. I almost envy you, there is so much."