"No, dear, I think not," responded her mother, with an affectionate look and a kindly reassuring smile; "you are recovering lost ground—perfecting yourself in facility of execution, and giving a great deal of pleasure; and it is no small privilege to be permitted to do that last—to cheer heavy hearts, to lift burdens, to make life even a little brighter to some of our fellow creatures. Is not that so?"
"Yes, mother, it is, and yet I find it very trying to have my plans so often interfered with."
"Ah! my child, we must not allow ourselves to become too much attached to our plans," returned Mrs. Keith, with a slightly humorous look and tone, and passing her hand caressingly over Mildred's hair; "for all through life we shall be very frequently compelled by circumstances to set them aside."
"Is there any use in making plans, then?" the girl asked half impatiently.
"Surely there is. If we would accomplish anything worth while, we must lay our plans carefully, thoughtfully, wisely; then carry them out with all energy and perseverance: yet not allow ourselves to be impatient and unhappy when providentially called upon to set them aside. 'It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps;' and we ought to be not only willing to bend to God's providence, but glad to have him choose for us."
"Ah, yes, mother—yes indeed!" Mildred murmured, a dewy light coming into her eyes; "if one could only always realize that he sends or permits these little trials they wouldn't be hard to bear; for it is sweet to have him choose for us."
It so happened that this was the last of that trial of Mildred's patience. A storm set in that night which lasted for several days, keeping almost everybody at home; then came weeks of ice and snow, making fine sleighing, skating, and sliding; thus furnishing other and more exciting amusement to the residents of the town, both old and young.
The Keiths took their share in these winter pastimes—Mildred as well as the rest: often doing so to please her mother rather than herself, yet always finding enjoyment in them.
'Twas a busy life she led that winter, and by no means an unhappy one, spite of the obstinate refusal of the course of true love to run smooth.