The Good Time Coming | Page 3

anticipated. Soon mere beauty failed to charm the
eye, and fragrance to captivate the senses; for mind immortal rests not
long in the fruition of any achievement, but quickly gathers up its
strength for newer efforts. And so, as we have seen, Edward Markland,
amid all the winning blandishments that surrounded him on the day
when introduced to the reader, neither saw, felt, nor appreciated what,
as looked to from the past's dim distance, formed the Beulah of his
hopes.

CHAPTER II.

A FEW minutes after Mrs. Markland left her husband's side, she
stepped from the house, carrying a small basket in one hand, and
leading a child, some six or seven years old, with the other.
"Are you going over to see Mrs. Elder?" asked the child, as they moved
down the smoothly-graded walk.
"Yes, dear," was answered.
"I don't like to go there," said the child.
"Why not, Aggy." The mother's voice was slightly serious.
"Every thing is so mean and poor."
"Can Mrs. Elder help that, Aggy?"
"I don't know."
"She's sick, my child, and not able even to sit up. The little girl who
stays with her can't do much. I don't see how Mrs. Elder can help things
looking mean and poor; do you?"
"No, ma'am," answered Aggy, a little bewildered by what her mother
said.
"I think Mrs. Elder would be happier if things were more comfortable
around her; don't you, Aggy?"
"Yes, mother,"
"Let us try, then, you and I, to make her happier."
"What can I do?" asked little Aggy, lifting a wondering look to her
mother's face.
"Would you like to try, dear?"
"If I knew what to do."
"There is always a way when the heart is willing. Do you understand
that, love?"
Aggy looked up again, and with an inquiring glance, to her mother.
"We will soon be at Mrs. Elder's. Are you not sorry that she is so sick?
It is more than a week since she was able to sit up, and she has suffered
a great deal of pain."
"Yes, I'm very sorry." And both look and tone confirmed the truth of
her words. The child's heart was touched.
"When we get there, look around you, and see if there is nothing you
can do to make her feel better. I'm sure you will find something."

"What, mother?" Aggy's interest was all alive now.
"If the room is in disorder, you might, very quietly, put things in their
right places. Even that would make her feel better; for nobody can be
quite comfortable in the midst of confusion."
"Oh! I can do all that, mother." And light beamed in the child's
countenance. "It's nothing very hard."
"No; you can do all this with little effort; and yet, trifling as the act may
seem, dear, it will do Mrs. Elder good: and you will have the pleasing
remembrance of a kind deed. A child's hand is strong enough to lift a
feather from an inflamed wound, even though it lack the surgeon's
skill." The mother said these last words half herself.
And now they were at the door of Mrs. Elder's unattractive cottage, and
the mother and child passed in. Aggy had not overdrawn the picture
when she said that everything was poor and mean; and disorder added
to the unattractive appearance of the room in which the sick woman
lay.
"I'm sorry to find you no better," said Mrs. Markland, after making a
few inquiries of the sick woman.
"I shall never be any better, I'm afraid," was the desponding answer.
"Never! Never is a long day, as the proverb says. Did you ever hear of
a night that had no morning?" There was a cheerful tone and manner
about Mrs Markland that had its effect; but, ere replying, Mrs. Elder's
dim eyes suddenly brightened, as some movement in the room attracted
her attention.
"Bless the child! Look at her!" And the sick woman glanced toward
Aggy, who, bearing in mind her mother's words, was already busying
herself in the work of bringing order out of disorder.
"Look at the dear creature!" added Mrs. Elder, a glow of pleasure
flushing her countenance, a moment before so pale and sad.
Unconscious of observation, Aggy, with almost a woman's skill, had
placed first the few old chairs that were in the room, against the wall, at
regular distances from each other. Then she cleared the littered floor of
chips, pieces of paper, and various articles that had been left about by
the untidy girl who was Mrs. Elder's only attendant, and next
straightened the cloth on the table, and arranged the mantel-piece so
that its contents no longer presented an unsightly aspect.
"Where is the broom, Mrs. Elder?" inquired the busy little one, coming

now to the bedside of the