Margaret's sympathy seemed very consoling to the doctor, and he talked to her freely of the state of the poor people with whom he came in contact. He said he had to see so much misery he could not possibly relieve, that it was a constant weight on his mind; it haunted him like a ghost; and even when warm and comfortable himself, he could not forget those wants which he so desired to relieve but could not. Then the people in the neighborhood rendered him but little assistance; for they either did not realize, or else were indifferent to the destitution of their neighbors.
Dr. James had never before opened his mind to Margaret as he did that evening. He spoke of his intense sympathy with the poor, simply and as a matter of course; and every word conveyed to her a reproach, for it made her conscious of her own selfishness and hardness of heart. Though she had always given freely, when asked, to fairs and subscriptions, and to charity collectors, she had done so, as she now saw, out of her abundance, and with a cold heart. How much thought had she ever given to the sufferings of the poor? What had she ever done to relieve them? Yet here was a man whose whole life was devoted to helping and healing his fellow-creatures, and who reproached himself for enjoying the simplest comforts so long as others were without them. A whole mine of new thoughts seemed opened in her mind; she longed to be alone; and when Dr. James had left her, after warmly grasping the hand that had given him the rent for his poor family, she said good-night to her aunt as early as possible, and going to her own room, she thought long and regretfully of the past, and formed a firm resolution to live more nobly for the future.
CHAPTER XI.
UNEXPECTED ADVICE.
The next morning, after driving Martha Burney to Sealing as usual, Margaret filled her sleigh with good things at the grocery and provision stores and then made her way, by the directions Dr. James had given her, to the house of John McNally, the poor man of whom he had spoken. She found the distress quite as great as she had expected, and would not have known what to do first, had she not found there a woman from the neighborhood who was endeavoring to assist the sick wife. This woman at once made gruel and tea, and put away the provisions in their proper places, while Margaret collected around her the children, who were half starving, and distributed among them a plentiful supply of bread and butter, to which she afterward added a dessert of oranges and candy.
Poor John looked on as though it were all a dream, and watched Margaret's every movement as he would those of a good fairy, till, she turning to him, said kindly,
"Will you not sit down and have some breakfast? Perhaps this friend of yours will cook some steak for you."
Then he mechanically sat down on a chair near the table, and covering his face with his hands, strove to hide tears of joy that trickled down his cheeks. Margaret went into the chamber and sat by the wife, who was sitting up in bed drinking her gruel, while Susan, the friend, went to cook the steak, the savory smell of which soon filled the little house. Margaret left them with a promise to return the next day; but before she went, she put into John's hand a twenty-dollar bill, bidding him get every thing that his wife and family needed.
What a happy day that was for Margaret! She felt so light-hearted and joyous that she could hardly attend to her usual duties; but she endeavored to study and practise the regular number of hours, saying to herself, "If I am going to do good every day, I must not let it interfere with every thing else." In the afternoon she would not go out; she was sure the doctor would come, and she could not afford to miss his call. So Miss Selina took one of her friends to drive, and Margaret sat at home waiting. Tea-time came and her aunt returned, and still the visitor she expected had not appeared; at length, as they left the table, sleigh-bells were heard, and the doctor opened the hall door.