Janets Love and Service | Page 7

of the dimness of her spotless kitchen she came one day into the
pleasant light of May, knowing that before she entered it again, she
would have made her mother's heart as sore as her own. All day, and
for many days, she had been planning what she should say to her
mother, for she felt that it must be farewell.
"If you know not of two ways which to choose, take that which is
roughest and least pleasing to yourself, and the chances are it will be
the right one," said she to herself. "I read that in a book once, but it's ill
choosing when both are rough, and I know not what to do."
Out into the brightness of the Spring day she came, with many
misgivings as to how she was to speed in her errand.
"It's a bonny day, bairns," said she, and her eye wandered wistfully
down the village street, and over the green fields, to the hills that rose
dimly in the distance. The mild air softly fanned her cheek, pleasant
sights were round her everywhere, and at the garden gate she lingered,
vaguely striving under their influence to cast her burden from her.
"I mun hae it ower," she muttered to herself as she went on. In each
hand she held firmly the hand of a child. Marian and little Will were to
go with her for safe keeping; the lads were at the school, and in her

absence Graeme was to keep the house, and take care of little Rose.
"Oh, Janet!" she exclaimed, as she went down the lane a bit with them;
"I wish I were going with you, it's such a bonny day."
But Janet knew that what she had to say, would be better said without
her presence, so she shook her head.
"You know Miss Graeme, my dear, you mun keep the house, and we
would weary carrying wee Rosie, and she could never go half the
distance on her feet; and mind, if ony leddies call, the short bread is in
the ben press, and gin they begin with questions, let your answers be
short and ceevil, like a gude bairn, and take gude care o' my bonny wee
lily," added she, kissing the pale little girl as she set her down. "But I
needna tell you that, and we'll soon be back again."
The children chattered merrily all the way, and busy with her own
thoughts, Janet answered them without knowing what she said. Down
the lane, and over the burn, through green fields, till the burn crossed
their path again they went, "the near way," and soon the solitary cottage
in the glen was in sight. It was a very humble home, but very pleasant
in its loneliness, Janet thought, as her eye fell on it. The cat sat sunning
herself on the step, and through the open door came the hum of the
mother's busy wheel. Drawing a long breath, Janet entered.
"Weel, mother," said she.
"Weel, Janet, is this you, and the bairns? I doubt you hadna weel leavin'
hame the day," said her mother.
"I had to come, and this day's as good as another. It's a bonny day,
mother."
"Ay, its a bonny day, and a seasonable, thank God. Come in by, bairns,
I sent Sandy over to Fernie a while syne. It's near time he were hame
again. I'll give you a piece, and you'll go down the glen to meet him,"
and, well pleased, away they went.

"I dare say you'll be none the waur of your tea, Janet, woman," said her
mother, and she put aside her wheel, and entered with great zeal into
her preparations. Janet strove to have patience with her burden a little
longer, and sat still listening to her mother's talk, asking and answering
questions on indifferent subjects. There was no pause. Janet had seldom
seen her mother so cheerful, and in a little she found herself wondering
whether she had not been exaggerating to herself her mother's need of
her.
"The thought ought to give me pleasure," she reasoned, but it did not,
and she accused herself of perversity, in not being able to rejoice, that
her mother could easily spare her to the duties she believed claimed her.
In the earnestness of her thoughts, she grew silent at last, or answered
her mother at random. Had she been less occupied, she might have
perceived that her mother was not so cheerful as she seemed for many a
look of wistful earnestness was fastened on her daughter's face, and
now and then a sigh escaped her.
They were very much alike in appearances, the mother and daughter.
The mother had been "bonnier in her youth, than ever Janet had," she
used to say