Lucy was not the only child who had listened earnestly to Mr. Gillette. It was the last time that he ever addressed those children; but there will be those at the resurrection who will thank him for the words he spoke that day: good resolutions were then roused in young hearts, which strengthened until they became strong principles, which supported through life, sustained in death, and were perfected in heaven.
CHAPTER XIII.
SICKNESS.
All was changed at Dr. Vale's cottage on Monday noon: Mrs. Maxwell, Harty, and Lucy once more sat down to dinner by themselves. The doctor was with a distant patient, and Rosa had gone with Mr. Gillette, to pass a few days in the city.
Although Mr. Gillette had been with them so short a time, both Harty and Lucy were sorry to part with him; and they did not wonder at Rosa's strong attachment to their uncle.
Lucy felt very sad when it was first proposed that Rosa should leave home, although it was only for a few days; but she knew this was a selfish feeling, and struggled to overcome it. Early on Monday morning the packing of Rosa's trunk commenced. Lucy ran about to wait on her sister, and helped her in her preparations as cheerfully as if she herself were of the party; she even insisted upon lending her certain belts and ribbons which were the treasures of her wardrobe.
Harty was not up when the carriage came to the door; he had been called once, but had fallen asleep again. He thrust his tumbled head from the window, and bade his sister a hearty farewell as she drove from the door.
This little circumstance seemed to have put him in a bad humour for the day. He pushed away his plate at breakfast, declaring he would not eat a mouthful of such trash; although everything was very nice, and there were hot cakes, of which he was usually very fond. Notwithstanding Harty's ill-humours, he was a favourite with old Betsy, and she was always careful to send him up a good breakfast, even when he had been lazy.
At dinner, his temper did not seem to have improved. "How you do eat," he said to Lucy: "it takes away my appetite to see you stuff so. I will speak to father about it."
Poor Lucy looked up in surprise, for she was only quietly taking a moderate meal. Once she would have answered pettishly or begun to cry, but Rosa had taught her that a cheerful as well as a soft answer often turneth away wrath, and she smilingly replied, "Why, Harty, I shall not be a stout, rosy girl soon, unless I make good dinners. Do try some of this horse-radish, it will make you relish your dinner as well as I do."