“That would not be wise, Willie,” remarked Dr Morgan. “You would expend all your means on one person, giving her more than she requires; and though it would save you trouble, you would be prevented from benefiting others; whereas you should calculate the means at your disposal, and take trouble to ascertain how much good you can possibly do with it. I am also bound to give you your pocket-money, provided I do not find that you make a bad use of it. You must decide how it is to be spent, and of course you are at liberty to return it to me to spend for you.”
“Oh, that will do, that will do!” exclaimed Willie, with pleasure in his tone. “But you will help me, papa, in doing what is best with it?”
“I have already anticipated some of your wishes with respect to poor Moggy, and we will see what more can be done to make her comfortable. She says that she prefers Windyside to any other spot on earth, and has no wish to move from it.”
On a fine day, when the sun was shining brightly over mountain and moor, and his beams were lighting up the pine-trees and the once dark, ruinous hovel on the hillside, Dr Morgan with most of his children took their way towards Old Moggy’s abode. It was greatly changed for the better. A chimney was now to be seen rising above the roof, which had been fresh tiled; there was glass in the window, a latch on the door, which had been repaired, and the lichen-covered walls had been scraped, fresh pointed, and white-washed. When the party got inside they discovered an equally agreeable change. A thick curtain divided the room; a screen kept off the draught when the door was opened; the walls were whitened, and there was a cupboard, and a table and chairs, and several shelves, on which rested some neat crockery. On the inside of the curtain there was a comfortable bed, and some thick matting on the floor. Old Moggy was seated in a large easy-chair, with her feet on the old stool, which before was one of her sole articles of furniture, and good Jenny Davis was making up a nice fire of coals, on which to cook some wholesome meat and vegetables which she had just brought from the market.
“She’s getting quite strong and hearty, with the good food and kindness,” answered Jenny to the Doctor’s question, “How is Moggy to-day?”
“She can talk to ye as clear and sensibly as any one; ay, and there are some glorious things she has been saying to me, which have done my soul a world of good.”
“Ay, Doctor Morgan, in one thing Jenny speaks truth. I don’t feel the poor demented creature I was a few short months ago,” said Moggy; “and it’s your tender kindness, and that of your dear boy, Master Willie, and the rest of your children, has brought about the change which ye see in me. I am clothed, and in my right mind; and yet, through the mercy of God, I never, even when my mind was wrong, was cast out from Him. I still sought Him, and found Him. He watched over me and protected me.”
“Be assured, Moggy,” said the Doctor, “that we are well repaid for what we have done for you. But I must not stay. I came up with my children to-day to see how you were. You require no doctoring, and so I must away. Anna, however, will remain with the rest, as she has brought up a book to read, which may interest you.”
When the Doctor had gone Anna took a seat by Moggy’s side, and Willie begged Jenny to give him some employment which might be of use.
“There’s little enough, my sweet young master, that is fit for you to do,” answered Jenny. “There are those few pots and pans to clean, and some cups and saucers, and plates and spoons, and knives and forks, but sure that’s not work fit for a young gentleman’s hands.”