But having indulged in this little introductory preach, I will begin my story.
Mrs. Manning was perplexed. A glance at her comely face was sufficient to show this, for it usually wore such a different expression from the half-puzzled, half-troubled look which now overspread it. Surely worldly matters could not cause the perplexity, for everything around her indicated a fair measure of prosperity, from the handsomely furnished room in which she sat and pondered, to the dainty lace which dropped so softly over her well-shaped wrists.
Mrs. Manning was abundantly satisfied with and thankful for her present position, though during her fifty years of life she had experienced many trials.
Early married, and almost perfectly mated, her first great sorrow came when her husband's death left her a widow, and with five children to care for and start in life. No light charge for a woman to whom anxiety had hitherto been a stranger.
Still, she thought that having experienced such a trial and lived through it, no other blow could inflict a wound worth thinking of; but she had to learn a still harder lesson.
Widows who have children must be brave for their sakes. They must dry the tears, or drive them back and weep only at convenient seasons, and indulge in sweet memories when present work and plans for the future do not demand all their powers. And who does not know that there are sorrows, as well as joys, with which none may intermeddle, not even those of our own households, much less the mere acquaintance or the stranger?
At first, no anxious thought about worldly matters entered into Mrs. Manning's mind. Her husband had been deemed a prosperous man, and she had never been required to count the cost of any reasonable indulgence. His illness had been too short to allow of any conversation on business matters, and when, after his death, these were looked into, all was in order. There was an apparently flourishing concern. There were no debts. Why should not all go on as before?
Just because the clear head was not there to plan, the guiding hand to direct. There was no one to step into that place and keep the well-balanced machinery going. And so the business went down, and it became necessary to wind-up the concern in order to secure a pittance which would just keep mother and children above absolute want.
Years of struggling followed. The widow kept a brave heart, cheered on her children, and the two eldest being boys, these soon began to help, instead of to require assistance.
The worst of the fight was over, when an unexpected ally came forward in the shape of Uncle Edward, her late husband's half-brother. He had always been ready to help, both with his counsel and his purse, and perhaps the more so because the widow never sought the latter kind of assistance.