The happiness of Hazelbrook

lost cotton—all arose from the simple fact of Katie's yielding to the first temptation to idleness. There was no harm whatever in her taking a walk in the garden, or gathering cowslips at the proper time. Had she sat steadily to her work in the morning, she would have finished it early in the afternoon, and might have enjoyed herself in the meadow as well. But, as her mother said to her, "duty first, pleasure afterwards." Katie had a duty to perform; she had promised to do it, and she was now suffering the penalty which all must pay, sooner or later, when they leave "undone those things which they ought to have done." "Leave Esther with me, Katie," said Nelly, "and go and look for the cotton in the meadow; don't you recollect where you sat down?" "Yes, I know the place exactly, but I am afraid I lost the cotton when I ran so fast on hearing Willie calling to me. I know it was in my lap the minute before." Katie hastened into the field, and went first of all to the old tree under the hedge. There was no cotton to be found. She then began to search for it amongst the grass, but it was so thick and tall that there was little chance of so small a thing as a reel of cotton being recovered when once lost in it. At length, after nearly an hour's ineffectual search, she returned to the cottage. What should she do? The lost reel of cotton was the only one her mother possessed. Mrs. Gordon had sent several reels of cotton with the shirts, as she was most particular as to the cotton that was used; and Katie had heard her mother say she hoped there would be sufficient to finish the set, as she could not get any more like it in the village. Katie hunted in her mother's work-bag, but there were only two balls of very coarse common cotton, such as she could not possibly use for the fine linen shirt. "What shall I do? What shall I do?" she cried, as, sitting down on a stool, she hid her face in her pinafore and sobbed bitterly. "Perhaps Mrs. Graham, at the rectory, has some cotton like it, Katie dear," said Nelly, "and I am sure she will give you some if you ask her, she is so very kind." "But what will mother say, Nelly?" Her sister did not tell Katie she should have thought of that in the morning, and it would have saved her much sorrow. But Katie's own conscience told her as much, and even more. And when right-thinking little Nelly suggested that the fear of what mother would say ought not to keep Katie from doing all she could to make up for the evil, she took her sister's advice, and prepared to go at once to the rectory, and confess all to her mother. It was already four o'clock when Katie set out on her journey. The rectory was quite a mile distant, and as she walked along through the quiet, peaceful meadows, she had ample time for reflection. She felt vexed with herself, and formed many hasty resolutions for the future. It is to be feared, however, that the thoughts of her mother's anger affected her far more than any real sorrow for her disobedience. Mrs. Lawrence was quite alarmed when she saw Katie, fearing that some accident had befallen one of the younger children. And grieved as she naturally felt at her daughter's conduct, it was a relief to her to find that nothing more serious was the matter. Katie told the whole truth to her mother, and did not attempt to spare herself in any way. And Mrs. Lawrence went at once to Mrs. Graham, to see if she could lend her some cotton. Mrs. Graham willingly gave her a reel, and having heard of Katie's trouble, she sent for her into the drawing-room, and spoke kindly to her on the necessity of making an effort to conquer her present bad habits. "You must pray to God, my dear child, to give you strength to resist temptation; of your own self you can do nothing, and I fear you have relied too much on your own strength, and have forgotten that text 'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.'" "Indeed, ma'am, I did really mean to finish the shirt," said Katie, with tears in her eyes. "Very likely," said Mrs. Graham, "but that very fact should, in itself, be a lesson to you for the future." Katie thanked Mrs. Graham for her kindness, and promised to follow her advice. She hastened home with the cotton, to do all she could to make up for lost time. But, as an old writer says, "you may run all day after a lost hour, but you will never be able to catch it." It was but very little work she could do before her mother returned. Of course the shirt was not finished, and Katie had the pain of seeing her mother, fatigued as she was after her hard day's work, obliged to sit up until very late, to make up for her daughter's idleness and neglect. "Oh, mother, mother!" cried Katie, as Mrs. Lawrence, pale and weary, passed through her daughter's room at a late hour, on her way to bed. "Oh, mother, mother, I will never behave so again. I have prayed to God to help me to do better for the future." "God bless you, dear Katie," said her kind mother, "and give you strength to keep your resolution." CHAPTER II The Happiness of Hazelbrook ABOUT two miles from the village of Hazelbrook by the road, but a much shorter distance across the fields, stood a fine old mansion, surrounded by an extensive park. The deer bounded across the greensward, or grazed peacefully beneath the shade of stately elms, and a populous colony of rooks cawed noisily from the summit of the tall dark fir trees at the back of the house. Hazelbrook Hollow, as it was called, was a very ancient place. And report said that the old hall, and part of one wing of the building, dated so far back as the time of William the Conqueror. A fine avenue of elms led to the house, from the garden front of which grassy terraces extended, one below the other, to a clear, bright sheet of water. This miniature lake was bounded on one side by a beautiful grassy walk, hedged in by gigantic rhododendrons, which in the early summer presented a splendid show of bright blossoms. On the opposite side of the lake, a thick yew hedge was cut at intervals into various quaint devices, and in an open glade stood a gray, moss-grown sun-dial. Several fine swans sailed majestically on the water, forming a scene of quiet and peaceful beauty for which the "stately homes of England" are so remarkable. Sir Herbert Tracy, the owner of Hazelbrook Hollow, was still in the prime of life. He had lived a great deal abroad on account of his wife's delicate health, which obliged her to winter in a warm climate. But of late, she had become so much stronger that she had already passed one winter at Hazelbrook, and had felt no ill effects from it. Sir Herbert and Lady Tracy had had several children, but they all died in their infancy, with the exception of a son and daughter. Young Herbert Tracy was in his eighteenth year, and was finishing his studies at Cambridge. His sister Mabel was younger. It was a source of great happiness to Sir Herbert and his wife to feel that they might be able to live at Hazelbrook. They were most anxious that both Herbert and Mabel should early learn to care for their poorer neighbours. Herbert Tracy was a son of whom any parent might feel proud, and little fairy-like, gentle Mabel was, as old Granny Hale called her, "the happiness of Hazelbrook." Not a cottage for miles round but was gladdened by a visit from Mabel, especially when the shadow of sickness or sorrow had fallen. It is easy for rich people to give a sum of money, but they are not always so liberal of their time; and it is most true that, in many instances, an hour's reading to a blind woman, or a half-hour's soothing talk with some troubled spirit, is far more valued than a gift of money would be. Mabel always made a point of spending an hour on Sunday afternoon with Nelly Lawrence, and these visits were the brightest spots in Nelly's life, and looked forward to with delight. It was Easter Sunday—a bright and beautiful morning, not a breath of wind was stirring nor a cloud flitting across the deep blue sky. The birds were singing gaily, the bees were humming in the sunshine, and the air was filled with a sweet scent of spring flowers. As Mabel Tracy walked across the fragrant meadows leading from Hazelbrook Hollow to Mrs. Lawrence's cottage, her young heart glowed with love and gratitude to the Almighty Creator of this beautiful world, who had given her so much to enjoy. A bright flush of pleasure flitted across Nelly's face as Mabel entered the cottage. "Good morning, Nelly; how are you to-day?" "Much the same, thank you, Miss Mabel, but so glad to see you. Mother said she thought you would not come until the afternoon to-day, and so I did not expect you so early." "I came as soon as I could, Nelly, for I thought I should like to bring you a spring nosegay this fine Easter morning." And as Mabel spoke, she put a bunch of delicate spring flowers into Nelly's hands. "Oh, thank you, thank you," said the child, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "They are very beautiful, are they not, Nelly? And dear mamma has made me think them more so than ever this morning, by showing me what a good lesson spring flowers may teach us if we think rightly about them." Nelly looked puzzled, as if she did not quite understand what Mabel meant. "Mamma reminded me," continued Mabel, "that if I had looked in the garden during the winter months, I should have sought in vain for these sweet flowers; yet all the while the root was in the ground alive, and the leaves and blossoms were ready to burst out from it as soon as ever the warm weather came. Just so our bodies, when lying in the grave, are like flowers in winter; they are hidden, and are apparently dead, but at the resurrection, they will rise again into new life. "And then again, Nelly, you know all plants come first from seeds, and the seed when put into the ground dies, and from its death come the plant and flower; but the flower is far more beautiful than the seed; and thus at the resurrection our glorified bodies will be far more beautiful than our present ones." "And there will be no sickness then," said Nelly, sighing. "No, Nelly, our bodies then will be free from all sickness and death. They will dwell in a land where 'there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain.'" "Is it very wrong, Miss Mabel, to feel a little discontented sometimes? I have never before thought of what you have told me to-day, but I will try to do so when I feel lonely and dull. I so often wish I could help mother; it is that which makes me murmur at being so long ill. I seem as if I shouldn't so much mind for myself, but when I see mother with so much more to do than she has strength to get through, I cannot help wishing that God would make me strong and well." "I do not wonder at your feeling so, dear Nelly, and yet you should pray for strength to strive against such feelings. Dear papa was reading to me in a book yesterday, that 'every moment brings its mercies,' and that mercies ought therefore to bring content. You have many mercies, Nelly, if you only set yourself to look for them. Think what a blessing it is to have so good a mother as you have; and how many poor children there are who have not so many home comforts as you possess! "Our gardener was telling mamma, yesterday, of a poor little gipsy child who died of some fever out on the heath beyond the forest, and who had no other shelter than a poor tent, and no bed but some straw on the damp ground. Another great blessing, which you would value more if you had been abroad as much as I have, is the being born and living in dear happy England. Many years ago, my dear mamma gave me a beautiful hymn to learn, and I have never forgotten it."