Janets Love and Service | Page 8

who that has lived for sixty years, has not? but she had borne them better than most, and was cheerful and hopeful still. When they were fairly seated, with the little table between them, she startled Janet, by coming to the point at once.
"And so they say the minister is for awa' to America after all. Is that true?"
"Oh, ay! it is true, as ill news oftenest is," said Janet, gravely. "He spoke to me about it before he went away. It's all settled, or will be before he comes hame the morn."
"Ay, as you say, it's ill news to them that he's leaving. But I hope it may be for the good o' his young family. There's many a one going that road now."
"Ay, there's more going than will better themselves by the change, I doubt. It's no like that all the fine tales, we hear o' yon country can be true."
"As you say. But, it's like the minister has some other dependence, than what's ca'ed about the country for news. What's this I hear about a friend o' his that's done weel there?"
Janet made a movement of impatience.
"Wha' should he be, but some silly, book-learned body that bides in a college there awa'. I dare say there would be weel pleased in any country, where he could get plenty o' books, and a house to hold them in. But what can the like o' him ken o' a young family and what's needed for them. If he had but held his peace, and let the minister bide where he is, it would hae been a blessing, I'm sure."
Janet suddenly paused in confusion, to find herself arguing on the wrong side of the question. Her mother said nothing, and in a minute she added,--
"There's one thing to be said for it, the mistress aye thought weel o' the plan. Oh! if she had been but spared to them," and she sighed heavily.
"You may weel say that," said her mother, echoing her sigh. "But I'm no sure but they would miss her care as much to bide here, as to go there. And Janet, woman, there's aye a kind Providence. He that said, `Leave thy fatherless children to me,' winna forsake the motherless. There's no fear but they'll be brought through."
"I hae been saying that to myself ilka hour of the day, and I believe it surely. But oh, mother," Janet's voice failed her. She could say no more.
"I ken weel, Janet," continued her mother, gravely, "it will be a great charge and responsibility to you, and I dare say whiles you are ready to run away from it. But you'll do better for them than any living woman could do. The love you bear them, will give you wisdom to guide them, and when strength is needed, there's no fear but you'll get it. The back is aye fitted for the burden. Let them gang or let them bide, you canna leave them now."
She turned her face away from her mother, and for her life Janet could not have told whether the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, were falling for joy or for sorrow. There was to be no struggle between her and her mother. That was well; but with the feeling of relief the knowledge brought, there came a pang--a foretaste of the home-sickness, which comes once, at least, to every wanderer from his country. By a strong effort she controlled herself, and found voice to say,--
"I shall never leave them while they need me. I could be content to toil for them always. But, ah! mother, the going awa' over the sea--"
Her voice failed her for a minute, then she added,--
"I hae wakened every mornin' with this verse of Jeremiah on my mind: `Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him, but weep sore for him that goeth away, for he shall return no more nor see his native country.'" Janet made no secret of her tears now.
"Hoot fie, Janet, woman," said her mother, affecting anger to hide far other feelings. "You are misapplyin' Scripture altogether. That was spoken o' them that were to be carried away captive for their sins, and no' o' honest folk, followin' the leadings o' Providence. If there's ony application it's to me, I'm thinkin'. It's them that bide at hame that are bidden weep sore;" and she seemed much inclined to follow the injunction. She recovered in a minute, however, and added,--
"But I'm no' going to add to your trouble. You dinna need me to tell you I'll have little left when you're awa'. But, if it's your duty to go with them, it canna be your duty to bide with me. You winna lose your reward striving in behalf o' these motherless bairns, and the Lord will