May Brooke | Page 4

so divine that angels, men, and earth wonder; let me, with thee, linger by his cross, follow him to his sepulture, and rejoice with thee in his resurrection." Do not let us suppose that May, in the overflowing of her devout soul, forgot others, and thought only of herself; oh, no! that charity, without which, all good works are as "sounding brass," animated her faith; as tenderly and lovingly she plead at the mercy seat for her stern old guardian; and although she knew that he scorned all religion, and would have given her rough jibes and scoffs for her charity, she prayed none the less for his salvation; and now she sought Heaven to strengthen and console the wounded and bereaved stranger who had come amongst them. By the time she left her oratory, she had laid by a store of strength and happiness, more than sufficient for the trials of the day. Yet May was not faultless. She had a quickness and sharpness of temper, which very often tempted her to the indulgence of malice and uncharitableness; and a proud spirit, which could scarcely brook injustice. But these natural defects were in a measure counterbalanced by a high and lofty sense of responsibility to Almighty God--a feeling of compassion and forgiveness for the frailties and infirmities of others, and a generous and discriminating consideration for the errors of all.
When Mr. Stillinghast came down that morning, everything was bright and comfortable in the sitting-room. A clear fire burned in the grate; the toast and coffee sent up an inviting odor; and the table was spread with the whitest of linen, on which the cups and saucers were neatly arranged. The morning paper was drying on a chair by the fire, and over all, flickered the glorious sunshine, as it gushed like a golden flood through the clustering geraniums in the window.
"Good morning, sir!" said May, blithely, as she came in from the kitchen with a covered plate in her hand.
"Good morning," he growled; "give me my breakfast."
"I thought you'd like a relish for your breakfast, sir, and I broiled a few slices of beef; see how very nice it is," said May, uncovering the plate, and placing it before him.
"Humph! well, don't do it again. I cannot afford such extravagance; I must curtail my expenses. 'Gad! if I should have another beggar thrown on my hands, we must starve," he said, bitterly.
May did not relish this speech at all; up rose the demon, pride, in her soul, instigating her to a sharp retort, and vindictive anger; but she thought of Bethlehem, and grew calm.
"I hope not, sir," she said, gently. "You have cast bread on the waters; after many days it will return unto you--perhaps in an hour, and at a time, dear uncle, when it will be much needed."
"Fudge, fudge!" he said, testily; "I--I cast bread on the waters, do I? Well, I am doing what is equally as foolish--it is truly like throwing bread into a fish-pond; but where's what's her name?"
"She slept poorly last night, and I would not awaken her this morning," said May, diverted in spite of herself.
"How do you know she didn't sleep, pray? did she tell you so?"
"No, sir; I heard her weeping all night, and, indeed, sir, I hope you'll speak kindly to Helen when you come in this evening, because she feels so very sorrowful on account of her recent losses, and--and--"
"And what, Miss Pert?"
"Her dependence, sir!" said May, bravely.
"She's no more dependent than you are."
"No, sir; but--but then I am happy somehow. It is the state of life Almighty God has chosen for me, and I should be very ungrateful to him and you if I repined and grumbled," said May, cheerfully.
"If He chose it for you, I suppose he chose it for her too; for _I didn't_. At any rate, don't waste any more candles or coal sitting up to watch people crying, and tell what's-her-name to rise when you do; she's no better than you are; and let her take her share of the duties of the house to-morrow," said Mr. Stillinghast, surlily.
"Helen will soon feel at home, sir, no doubt; only do--do, dear uncle, try and speak kindly to her for a few days, on account of her lonely situation."
"Fudge! eat your breakfast. Hold your plate here for some of this broiled beef, and eat it to prevent its being wasted."
"Thank you, sir," said May, laughing, as he laid a large slice on her plate, which, however she did not touch, but put it aside for Helen; then observing that Mr. Stillinghast had finished his breakfast, she wheeled his chair nearer the fire, handed him his pipe, and the newspaper, and ran upstairs, to see if Helen was awake. But she still slept, and looked so