"Oh, Cousin Charlotte, I want to help too," cried Esther wistfully. "I do want to be useful, but I don't know how. Will you tell me? Nothing ever seems to happen to me; I never get a chance of helping people."
"Opportunities, small or great, occur every day, dear," said Miss Charlotte; "it is the little opportunity we must look out for, the small things that we must do. Big ones come sometimes, but little ones every day; if you look for them you will find them. We will help each other, dear. Now we will say good-night. You are tired with your long day in the open air. We will not begin lessons until Monday, there will be so much else to do and arrange. Good-night, my love," and with a warm kiss they parted.
Esther went up to her room with a great glow of happiness at her heart. For the first time in her life she had met some one who understood her; at least, some one who could draw out the good side of her, and not the bad. Esther did not understand what it was, but she felt a difference, and she undressed and said her prayers with Cousin Charlotte's words still ringing in her ears: "We can never be too good to one another, dear; and what are we here for but to help each other over hard places?"
She prayed very especially that she might be shown how to do her share in helping others. Like Poppy, she lay down, determined to think and think, hoping that perhaps by morning she would have thought of some way of helping Cousin Charlotte; and, more successful than Poppy, before even she fell asleep an idea had come. Quite suddenly there came back to her Miss Ashe's remark, that 'it was not convenient then to have a governess.' "It must be on account of the expense," thought Esther, with sudden inspiration. "She talked of getting another servant; but I am sure, if she can't afford a governess she can't afford a servant; and I do believe we could do without one, if I helped quite a lot, as I did at home. And I can. I did all right there. I will ask her to let me try. Oh!"—enthusiastically, as the idea took a firmer hold on her—"I hope she will. She must—and I am sure Anna would be glad."
Too excited and pleased to sleep, Esther slipped from her bed, crept to the window, and looked out. A bright moon lighted up the moor opposite and the river below, until she could see the old brown boulders quite plainly; birds called to each other across the distance, and far away a cow lowed monotonously for its calf. Esther stood and gazed and listened with uplifted heart, yearning for something, she knew not what, something higher and better to be and do.
"Oh, I am so glad we came here!" she murmured, "so glad! I am sure it will be easy to be good here, and I do so want to be good! I wish I hadn't been so horrid to mother sometimes, and—and now I can't ever be anything else, to her." And there came back to her mind her mother's words, "I am sure your Aunt Julia would not have Esther if she knew how bad her temper had become," and her eyes filled with tears at the recollection.
"I will try," she whispered. "I will try that no one else shall ever say that of me—and I will write to mother, and tell her I am sorry." And it was a very grave and serious Esther who fell asleep at last.
CHAPTER VIII.
When Esther awoke the next morning, she wondered for a moment why she felt so happy and light-hearted. Then memory returned. She recollected the talk of last night, Cousin Charlotte's kiss, and the plan for Monday. She would begin to learn at last! But even greater was her joy at the other thought—her own plan to help Miss Charlotte. She could hardly lie still when she thought of all she meant to do. She would dust, and tidy and sweep, and sew, and polish the furniture, and she even pictured herself making bread and cleaning windows.