Mrs. Newton and the little flower-girl to leave London, and go and live
in one of the nice widows' houses, which good Mr. Walton had built,
near the pretty village where he lived.
Then there was great joy in poor Mrs. Newton's humble abode; Mrs.
Newton was glad for Fanny's sake, and Fanny was glad for Mrs.
Newton's sake, so both were glad, and both said--
"Mortals fly from doubt and sorrow, God provideth for the morrow."
But the only difference was, that Mrs. Newton said it with watery eyes
and clasped hands, lying on her bed and looking up to heaven; and
Fanny--merry little thing!--said it frisking and jumping about the room,
clapping her hands together, and laughing her joy aloud.
Well, there was an inside place taken in the B---- coach, for Mrs.
Newton and Fanny; and not only that, but kind Mrs. Walton sent up her
own maid to London, to see that everything was carefully done, as the
poor woman was ill, and help to pack up all her little goods; and, with
her, she sent an entire new suit of clothes for the flower-girl.
They set off, and when they got near to the village the coachman
stopped, and called out to know if it were the first, or the last of the red
cottages he was to stop at; and Mrs. Walton's maid said, "The last,--the
cottage in the garden." So they stopped at such a pretty cottage, with a
little garden before and behind it. Mr. Walton had known what it was to
be poor, and so, when he grew rich, he had built these neat houses, for
those who had been rich and become poor. They were intended chiefly
for the widows of men of business, whose character had been good, but
who had died without being able to provide for their families. He had
made an exception in Mrs. Newton's case, and gave her one of the best
houses, because it had a pretty garden, which he thought others might
not care for so much.
They went inside, and there was such a neat kitchen, with tiles as red as
tiles could be; a little dresser, with all sorts of useful things; a nice
clock ticking opposite the fire-place, and a grate as bright as blacklead
could make it. And then there was such a pretty little room at one side,
with a rose tree against the window; and a little shelf for books against
the wall; and a round table, and some chairs, and an easy couch. And
there were two nice bedrooms overhead; and, better than all these, was
a pretty garden. Oh! how happy was the little flower-girl; and how
thankful was poor Mrs. Newton! The first thing she did was to go down
on her knees and thank God.
Then Fanny was to go to the school, for Mrs. Walton had her own
school, as well as the national school; but Fanny did not know enough
to go to it, so she was sent to the national school first, and afterwards
she went to the other, where about a dozen girls were instructed in all
things that would be useful to them through life-- whether they were to
earn their bread at service, or to live in their own homes as daughters,
wives, or mothers.
But every morning, before she went out, she did everything for her dear,
good grandmother. She made her breakfast; she arranged her room; and
she gathered some fresh flowers in the garden, and put them on the
table in the little parlor. Oh! how happy was Fanny when she looked
back, and saw how nice everything looked, and then went out singing
to her school--
"Barns, nor hoarded store have we, Yet we carol joyously; Mortals flee
from doubt and sorrow, God provideth for the morrow."
But God will not provide for the morrow, where people will do nothing
to provide for themselves; and so Fanny, the flower-girl, knew, for
surely God had blessed the labor of her childish hands.
Thus passed time away; and Fanny, under the instruction that she had
at church, at school, and at home, "grew in grace, and in the knowledge
and love of God, and of Jesus Christ our Lord."
Good Mrs. Newton was much better in health, and used to walk about
sometimes without any support but Fanny's arm, and so time went on
till Fanny came to be about fifteen; and then Mrs. Newton, who was
not always free from "doubt and sorrow," began to think what was to
become of her if she were to die.
So one day, when kind Mr. Walton, whom Fanny used once to call the
fat gentleman, came in to see her, Mrs. Newton told him that she was
beginning
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