The Girls Own Paper, Vol. VIII. No. 358, November 6, 1886 | Page 4

"Could you not rest a little first?" I returned. "You have been out the
greater part of the day, and you do not seem fit for the evening's
fatigue," for there was quite a drawn look about the lovely mouth.
She shook her head, but, nevertheless, yielded when I gave her up my
chair and put the boy in her arms; in his little chemise, and with his
dimpled shoulders and bare legs, he was perfectly irresistible to his
mother, and I was not surprised to see her cover him with kisses. "My
bonnie boy, my precious little son," I could hear her whisper, in a sort
of ecstasy, as I picked up the little garments from the floor and folded
them. I seemed to know by instinct that it was only this that she needed
to rest her; the drawn, weary lines seemed to vanish like magic. What a
sweet picture it was! But her pleasure, poor soul, was short lived; the
next moment she had recollected herself.
"There are all those people in the drawing-room! What would my
husband say at my neglecting them? Good-night, my darling; be good;
and good-night, Merle." She smiled at me in quite a friendly fashion,
and hurried away without another look.

"I always do say master does make a slave of mistress," grumbled
Hannah, as she filled the bath; "she never has a moment to herself that I
can see. What is the use of having children if one never sees them."
And though I refrained from any comment, I quite endorsed Hannah's
opinion. As soon as Hannah had cleared the room, I shaded the light
and began quietly arranging my clothes in the wardrobe, and then I sat
down in the low chair beside the fire. Through the open door I could
see Hannah's bent head as she sat at her sewing. The nursery looked
warm and cosy--a very haven of comfort; but I wanted to be alone for a
time to think over the occurrences of the day. "To commune with one's
own heart and to be still." How good it is to do that sometimes. For a
few moments my thoughts lingered lovingly in the little cottage at
Putney. Aunt Agatha and Uncle Keith would be talking of me, I knew
that. I could almost hear the pitying tones of Aunt Agatha's voice,
"Poor child! How lonely she will feel without us to-night!" Did I feel
lonely? I hardly think so; on the contrary, I had the warm, satisfied
conviction at my heart that I was in my right place, the place for which
I was most fitted. How tenderly would I watch over these helpless little
creatures committed to my care! how sacred would be my charge!
What a privilege to be allowed to love them, to be able to win their
affection in return!
I had such a craving in my heart to be loved, and hitherto I had had no
one but Aunt Agatha. It seemed to me, somehow, as though I must cry
aloud to my human brothers and sisters to let me love them and take
interest in their lives; to suffer me to glean beside them, like loving
Ruth in those Eastern harvest fields, following the reapers lest haply a
handful might fall to my share, for who would wish to go home at
eventide empty handed as well as weary?
(To be continued.)

GIRLS' FRIENDSHIPS
By the Author of "Flowering Thorns."

CHAPTER II.
HOW THEY ARE MADE.
Perhaps the first, easiest, and on the whole, least durable of girls'
friendships is formed at school. Not such a school as we go to at twelve,
where we have class competitions, good-conduct marks, and fines for
talking, but such a school as we go to at sixteen, to "finish," when
individual emancipated life is so near that we begin to realise it, and
dimly feel that the friends we now make may form part of it.
Everything looks rather couleur de rose; one year, or at the very most
two, and we shall be free and at home, where the nicest girl we ever
met must come to visit us; then we shall return the visit, and together
we shall live in reality those charming times we romance over in low
tones after the lights are put out.
Very little will patch up a so-called friendship at school; a room mate,
especially if you have only one, who is not utterly uncongenial, is
almost sure to become a great friend--the girl who is equal with you in
your favourite lesson, the girl who comes from your county or town, or
whose "people" know your "people." Every schoolgirl must be able to
think of a dozen other reasons why such and such girls selected each
other