CHAPTER XXIII.

"MOTHER'S EYES ARE VERY TIRED."

"YOU have come to see me," said Christina rising, as Margaret Fenton was shown into her sitting room in Gower Street.

"Yes, ma'am," answered Margaret, looking up in the face of her future mistress.

"Sit down," she said, "and I will explain what I should want you to do. I hear you are very fond of children."

"Very indeed, ma'am; I was a nurse for many years till I married."

"So I heard. Now, you know, the place I want you to fill is not exactly a nurse's situation, it is more that of a matron. I am very lonely, and I am going to take care of a few little children, and try to bring them up to be useful and happy; but above all things I wish to teach them to love our Saviour."

Margaret's eyes looked very sympathising, but she did not speak.

"I have almost settled on a house at Hampstead, and I shall want, I believe, three servants; that is, a nurse-matron, a cook, and a housemaid. My own maid Ellen has consented to be the housemaid, at any rate for a time, and if you are willing to be nurse, there only remains the cook to find. But first I must tell you that I shall not be rich, so your wages will have to be moderate."

"Oh, I am quite willing!" exclaimed Margaret. "To have my child with me, and to be engaged in such work, I should only want just enough to keep me respectable."

"You shall have that, you may be sure. But I mean this: I shall not be able to pay you according to the amount of trust I put in you, but rather according to what I can afford."

"I quite agree," said Margaret earnestly. Then, hesitating, she said shyly: "Have you made up your mind, ma'am, what sort of person you wish to have for a cook?"

"Not at all. Do you know of anyone?"

"It has been my only trouble in accepting your kind offer, ma'am—my mother-in-law; she will, I fear, be so very strange without me and Maggie; but I did not know if she would be too old. She is very strong and able, ma'am, and an earnest Christian woman too."

"I should be most thankful to find such an one. But when could I see her?" asked Christina, while an inward thanksgiving rose to the Father who was helping her forward step by step.

"Well, ma'am, as it happens, she has come up to town with me to-day. I had earned an extra shilling or two, and I gave her and Maggie the treat, as I thought it might be a long time before I could again."

"I am so glad," said Christina; "where is she now?"

Margaret went to the window and looked out, and Christina also glanced down the street, and in a minute the grandmother and child appeared pacing slowly on the opposite side of the way.

"There they are!" exclaimed Margaret. And hastily asking permission, she ran down, and soon touched her mother-in-law on the shoulder.

"Come in, mother," she said breathlessly, "she wants to see you."

Christina was struck with the calm face of the elder woman as she turned to cross the road; her white plaited cap-border setting off the peaceful face and neat hair; and again she thanked God and took courage.

"So here is Maggie," said the ringing voice, while the beautiful face bent down and kissed the little one. "Maggie is to be my first little niece; eh, Maggie?"

The child drew back a little shyly, and her mother spoke. "Maggie dear, this is the lady that is going to give us all such a nice home! You will like to speak to her."

"Is it?" said Maggie, looking up.

"Yes, Maggie," said Christina; "and I shall love you so much; and you, and mother, and perhaps grandmother, will be so happy, I hope."

Maggie came forward under the influence of those kind eyes, and laid her hand in Christina's. "Thank you, ma'am," she said, "'cause mother's eyes are very tired with that work."

Christina kissed her again, and thought of their talk about the clean children being the nicest, and then she turned to the grandmother. It had all to be explained again; but Mrs. Fenton did not accept it as quickly and readily as her daughter-in-law and Christina expected.

"It is a great change in my life, ma'am," she said at last; "and I think I must have time to consider it well. I should like very, very much to do it; but I would not wish to break up my little home, and lose what work I have now, and then repent it!"

"My mother is a laundress," explained Margaret.

Christina looked abstractedly out of the window; a new thought had struck her.

"I wonder," at length she said, "whether we could manage it in rather a different way. There is a gardener's cottage, a very small one, adjoining the house I think of having, and I was going to let it off; but supposing you lived there and did our washing for us?"

Margaret looked anxiously at her mother, as if this must be the very thing for her.

The woman paused again. "I am extremely obliged, ma'am," she said, with great feeling in her voice, "and I will ask my Father about it, and let you know. I cannot go a step without Him, ma'am."

Christina held out her hand kindly and gravely. "You are quite right; and remember we shall all be one family in Him, whatever our different callings may be."

She rang the bell, and told Ellen to give her visitors a comfortable lunch in the dining room, and to ask Miss Arbuthnot to step upstairs.

"Oh, aunt, I wish you had been here, only I was so nervous in anticipation! But she is the dearest old creature you ever saw."

"I met her on the stairs, a sweet face."

Christina then told her aunt all about the interview, and they both hoped the decision would be in favour of accepting her proposal.

Miss Arbuthnot had been extremely surprised when Christina had first propounded her plans to her; but she had quick and ready sympathy; she knew the desolation of the young heart; and she had read enough of the life of workhouse children to know that to rescue even a few of these from the deadness, apathy, and sin which prevailed in such places, would be no mean work. So she had consented cheerfully, and Christina had given her a warm, grateful kiss, and had said, "I will try to make your life too as happy as I can, dear aunt."

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