“It’s something to be thankful for that we’ve never had any of our own,” she returned dryly. “Better for them and better for us.”
Mrs. Coote had several domestic duties to attend to after the conclusion of the meal, and the children had been in bed fully an hour before she re-entered their room. She was careful to make no noise as she opened the door, came softly in, and lighted the gas.
Harry’s breathing told that he was sleeping soundly. So were Blanche and Nannette. Ethel too slumbered, but with tears upon her pillow and her cheek, while at intervals her young bosom heaved with a long-drawn, sobbing sigh.
An emotion of pity stirred in the heart of the stern, cold-mannered woman as she looked and listened.
“Poor little thing! I dare say she misses her dead father and mother,” she sighed to herself as she turned away, “and she seems to try her prettiest to supply a mother’s place to the younger ones. I don’t believe I’ll have any trouble with her, unless on account of the rest; but I’ll do my duty by them all.”
The unpacking of the children’s trunk and re-arranging its contents in closet and drawers took but a few minutes, for Mrs. Coote was a rapid and energetic worker, a quiet one also, and the children slept on while she finished what she had come to do, then turned off the gas and went out, softly closing the door after her.
It was broad daylight when Ethel woke amid her new and strange surroundings, for a moment forgetting where she was. But only for a moment, then memory recalled the events of yesterday, and she knew that she and her little sisters and brother were strangers in a strange place.
Her little heart grew heavy with the thought; then recalling the teachings of her departed mother and Mrs. McDougal, that God, her Heavenly Father, was everywhere present, as near to her in one place as in another, and ever ready to hear the cry for help, even from a little child, she slipped from the bed to the floor and, kneeling there, poured into His ear all her sorrows, fears, and desires; asking for help to be good, to do right always, and to know how to comfort and care for Nannette, Harry, and Blanche.
Having thus rolled her burden on the Lord she felt stronger and happier, and rising from her knees made haste with the duties of the toilet, then helped the others, who were now awake also, with theirs. She had just finished when the door opened and Mrs. Coote looked in.
“Ah, so you are all up, washed and dressed, I see,” she remarked in a pleased tone. “That is right; and now you may come down to your breakfast.”