Janets Love and Service | Page 8

herself, and looking at her still ruddy cheeks, and clear grey
eyes, it was not difficult to believe it. She was fresh-looking yet, at
sixty, and though the hair drawn back under her cap was silvery white,
her teeth for strength and beauty, might have been the envy of many a
woman of half her years. She was smaller than Janet, and her whole
appearance indicated the possession of more activity and less strength
of body and mind than her daughter had, but the resemblance between
them was still striking. She had seen many trials, as 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