Bessie Bradfords Prize | Page 2

was soon evidenced by the fact that Lily presently had the little one on her lap, while Belle was showing her a linen scrap-book which had been brought for her.
Mrs. Granby was a seamstress, and Jane had brought some work which her mistress, Mrs. Bradford, had sent; and Maggie and Bessie, with Belle and Lily, who were spending the day with them, had chosen to accompany her, the first three because they were generally ready for a visit to the family of the policeman, who had befriended Bessie when she was lost, the latter because she thought Mrs. Granby "such fun." To have Mrs. Fleming come in, as she presently did, was bliss indeed to Lily, who delighted in pitting the cheery, lively little Mrs. Granby against the melancholy, depressing Mrs. Fleming. Nor was the entertainment long in beginning.
Jane was to carry home some work which Mrs. Granby had finished, and as the latter was putting it up Mrs. Fleming came in and was bidden by her to take a seat till she was ready to attend to her.
"And how's little Miss Neville, Miss Maggie?" asked Mrs. Richards. "I think that's the name of the young lady who was so brave in saving her little sister, and was so burned."
"Yes, that's her name," answered Maggie. "She is a great deal better, Mrs. Richards. The doctor has said she is out of danger, and her mother has been able to leave her and to go back to the son who is ill."
"I'm very glad to hear it," said Mrs. Richards, cordially. "My husband was telling me how wonderful and brave she was, and how she never thought of herself trying to save the other children; and how the gentleman Miss Staunton is to marry was burned very bad saving her."
"Yes; it was a terrible time," said Maggie; "but Mr. Howard is much better now, too; so we are all very happy."
All this time Mrs. Fleming had sat nodding her head mournfully, as if she would say, "Don't be encouraged; there is no ground for hope."
"Look! Look at her!" Lily whispered to Bessie. "She's like an insane Chinese mandarin, rolling round her old head that way."
"Hush!" whispered Bessie, "she'll hear you."
"Don't care if she does," answered Lily.
And now Mrs. Fleming broke forth in just such a lackadaisical, tearful tone as one would have expected to issue from her lips.
"Oh, Miss Maggie," she whined, "if the dear lady, your ma, 'ad but listened to me. I told her no good wouldn't come of 'avin' that number of children to her Christmas tree--twice thirteen; an' I said if thirteen was hunlucky, twice thirteen was twice worse; an' your ma just laughed at me; an' the next day came the burnin'."
Bessie looked gravely at her.
"My mother says that is wrong and foolish, too," she said, in an admonitory tone, "and that thirteen is no worse than any other number."
"You nor your ma can't gainsay that there come the burnin', Miss," persisted the woman.
"I know that Colonel Rush's house was on fire, and that Miss Lena was burned, and Mr. Howard, too," answered Bessie, equally determined to maintain her side of the case. "But they are both a great deal better, and it ought to show you that such things don't make any difference to God, and that He can take just as good care of one number as another."
The other children were rather surprised to hear Bessie speak so decidedly to one older than herself; but this was a subject on which she felt strongly; her own faith and trust and reliance on the goodness and power of God were very strong; and more than one occurrence in her little life had tended to foster these, and she always rather resented the want of them in others. And now Mrs. Fleming, in her turn, resented being chidden by this mite who appeared even younger than she really was. But it pleased her, as usual, to assume the injured role.
"Well, Miss," she said, "'tain't for me to contradick you nor your ma. I can't help havin' my hown feelin's an' hopinions; but the Lord made me to be down-trod, an' I'm willin' to habide 'is will an' stay down-trod."
This was beyond Bessie; she had no answer, no argument for folly such as this, if, indeed, she grasped the woman's meaning; but she did understand that she was still making her moan over matters and things in general, and that in some way she seemed to be blaming her own dear mother. She looked displeased and turned away; but here Mrs. Granby, who had her head in a wardrobe, looking for a large sheet of paper, withdrew it and came to the front.
"Well," she said, raising her voice so that it might be heard above the rattle