CHAPTER IV.

A BRAVE RESOLUTION.

MR. WINN lingered for nearly a month. There were intervals during this time when he rallied sufficiently to give some hope to his anxious wife that he might yet recover, and be spared to them for a few years longer at least.

During one of these intervals, he was able to listen while Elsie told him that she had won the scholarship, and that Tom was going to try for one next year.

He fully approved of Tom going to the preparatory class for this. For, as he remarked to his wife, if he should fail to win a scholarship that would enable him to go to a better school for a year or two longer, the additional knowledge he would gain from attending this preparatory class would be sure to prove useful to him, if he should have to leave school earlier, and begin the business of life for himself in earnest.

He also spoke to Tom about this, and the boy promised to be diligent, and give his teachers as little trouble as possible, as they were so willing to help him forward in his school work.

But as the days went on, these intervals of comparative ease grew less, and there were days when the invalid could not say a word to his children, and was scarcely able to gasp out what he needed to say to his wife. The doctor knew that, although his life was prolonged beyond the time he had thought possible when he first saw him, that the end could not be far off, and he did what he could to prepare Mrs. Winn for what he knew was approaching.

But although she was thus warned, the blow fell at last with a terrible shock, both to mother and children, and they were all for a time overwhelmed with grief and dismay.

How the rest of that dreadful week passed in Elsie's home she never quite knew, or whether she ever thought that the death of her father would make such a difference in her future.

Until after the funeral, no word was said about any change in their mode of life; but one day, when this was all over, she said,—

"Mother, shall I be able to go to school next week?"

Her mother looked at her for a moment, and then the tears slowly filled her eyes.

"My poor Elsie," she said, "I am afraid our loss will fall very heavily upon you."

"But, mother, it will not cost us anything for me to go to the grammar school," said Elsie, looking a little frightened.

"My dear, we must have a little talk together, you and I. You know, dear, that now father has gone, I must work and keep the little ones."

"You, mother? What can you do?" asked Elsie, opening her eyes with something like wonder and alarm.

"Only one thing, dear. I have learned to make the children's frocks and your dresses very well; and I must earn some money by doing dressmaking for other people."

"But who will take care of Bobbie and baby?" asked Elsie.

"That is what I am coming to, dear; and it is a question you must decide. With your help to manage the house and the children, I think I could keep home, and all of us can live together; but without your help, I cannot do it. Baby would not be happy with a stranger; and I could not expect another girl to be so careful of things, so that there is no waste, as my own little daughter."

"And, oh mother! You want me to give up the scholarship, and not go to school any more!" exclaimed poor Elsie, bursting into tears, and throwing herself into her mother's arms, as if her heart would break.

"My poor Elsie! My poor darling! It is hard I know, dear," said the mother, tenderly stroking the girl's hair, and kissing her, while her own tears fell like rain. Mrs. Winn had dreaded telling Elsie this bitter truth,—that she could not afford to let her go to the grammar school, even with the scholarship; but she did not think she would feel it so bitterly as this.

At last Elsie grew more quiet, and then she whispered, "Tell me everything, please; I will try to be a good girl, for dear daddy's sake."

"Yes, yes, I know you will, my darling; and I have tried to think of a plan that would save you from this disappointment. But there seems no other way, dear, but for you to help me at home. For I should not like to send either of the little ones away to an orphan school if I could help it. They are very good schools, I daresay, but I want to keep you all together if I can. Almost the last thing daddy said was, 'You'll keep the children all together.'"

"Yes, mother, you shall; and I will help you," said Elsie, in a choking voice. "I will take care of the house, and Bobbie and baby, so that you can work."

"God bless you! my dear," said her mother. "You have lifted a great weight from my mind; and I believe I can do as daddy wished now. It is hard for you, my dear; but I will contrive that you have some time for reading, for I know how anxious you are to learn."

"Thank you, mother," was all Elsie could say; for although she had made up her mind what she ought to do, and what she would do, it was none the less hard, and she was glad to run up to her own room, and cry out her trouble there.

When she came down, she had bathed her face and tried to smile, but Bobbie looked up at her and said, "Elsie ki!"

"Bobbie, go and fetch that stick for baby," said his mother; for she could see Elsie was having a hard battle with herself.

The next day she went and told her governess that Mary must have the scholarship, now that her father was dead.

"I am very sorry, my dear; very sorry indeed; but I saw your mother one day last week, and I think you are quite right in what you have decided to do."

"I did so wish to go to the grammar school," said Elsie, the tears shining in her eyes as she spoke.

"Yes, dear, and I should have been very glad if you could have gone; but you know the object Of all education is not merely cramming the memory with facts of history, or rules of grammar, but the building up of character. And so, in learning self-control and self-forgetfulness (as you must do in helping your mother), you will, I am sure, be learning lessons as valuable as any that could be taught at the grammar school. And for the mere facts of history, and rules of grammar, you may be able to make up for their loss by your own reading. I have heard this morning, that we are likely to have an evening continuation school for girls here this winter; and so, perhaps, your mother might be able to spare you to come to that; and if she can, I will take care that you are placed in a suitable class."

"Thank you," said Elsie. But it was said rather drearily, for nothing could make up for the loss of what she should have learned at the girl's grammar school, Elsie thought.

It having been settled before that Elsie was to have the scholarship, there were letters to write, and explanations to be given, as to why the change was made in the scholarship girls, before Mary could feel certain that she was to have it.

Of course she was glad of the chance—doubly glad that she had taken Elsie's advice and gone through with the examination, instead of giving it up at the first difficulty. If she had not done this, it would, of course, have gone to another girl, and another school.

Elsie's friends all felt sorry for her. But she could not stay to talk to them this morning, for she was wanted at home to mind the baby, while her mother went out on business.

Of course, some blamed Mrs. Winn, and Elsie too. But in trying to do the duty that lay nearest them, they were undoubtedly right; and they had the satisfaction of knowing this, and also that they were trying to carry out the last wishes of the dear one, who had so lately been taken from his work here below.

Mrs. Winn made it known among friends and neighbours, that she was prepared to make either ladies' or children's dresses, in the latest fashion. And to ensure success, she herself went to take lessons in the best method of cutting and fitting.

They were not absolutely penniless. Her husband had made some provision for his family; but it was necessary that they should be very careful in their expenditure, for Mrs. Winn could hardly expect to get much work just at first.

But the story of Elsie's scholarship had got abroad, and people said that mother and daughter were alike brave in striving to help themselves and each other; and work began to come in faster than the widow had dared to hope—so fast, indeed, that she soon had as much as she could do. And when Elsie's school-fellow, Jane Holmes, came to see her, and asked if she could be taken as an apprentice, Mrs. Winn felt quite glad of the offer.

It had not occurred to her to try and get an apprentice. But when this offer was made, she thought she could but try how the plan would answer, and so she asked Mrs. Holmes to call and see her about the matter.

"I think Jane would do more for you, Mrs. Winn, than she would for anybody else, because she feels so sorry for Elsie in her disappointment," said Mrs. Holmes, when the two had talked over the business. "I am afraid she is not very quick with her needle just now, but she knows it is quite hopeless for her to think of getting a scholarship, or even being a governess, by-and-bye; and, as she must learn to do something for her living, she hopes you will give her a trial."

This Mrs. Winn was quite willing to do. And so Jane came and took her place in Mrs. Winn's work-room, while Elsie scrubbed, and cooked, and swept, and dusted, and took care of the children; and her life was much happier than she thought it would be.

Having decided the question about the scholarship, she took up her work in the house with real interest, trying how well she could do this, how much trouble she could save her mother in that, and what expense could be spared in the other.

She soon learned to know that it is not money, it is not pleasure, that gives happiness, but the interest that life affords, that gives it its real value and zest.

Sorely did they miss the loving father; but they could not afford to sit down and indulge in useless repinings. Life had too much for them to do to sit down and shed useless tears. And so Elsie and her mother found themselves happy, though they were not always free from care and anxiety.

In this way several months passed. Mrs. Winn had as much work as she could get through. And, though it was sometimes difficult, with all the care and economy, to make ends meet without breaking into the little capital that was put away; still it was done somehow, and the little ones were not allowed to feel the loss of their father where mother and sister could help them.

Then one day Tom came home from school, rather later than usual, bruised and dirty, and with several rents in his jacket.

"Where have you been, Tom?" exclaimed Elsie, when she saw what a plight he was in.

"Oh, don't bother," said her brother, pushing her aside; "I don't want girls worrying about me," he added, as he rushed into the scullery to wash his face, and remove the traces of the fray in which he had been engaged, before his mother should see him.

[Illustration: "Where have you been, Tom?" exclaimed Elsie.]

Tea was nearly over, and Mrs. Winn had gone back to the work-room, so she did not see Tom as he came home. But the bruises and scratches could not be washed off with water; and the jacket was sadly dilapidated.

"Look at you's jacket," said Bobbie to his brother.

Tom turned the sleeve round, and Elsie looked at it too. "Oh, Tom! It is too bad of you to go and tear your clothes like that," she said.

She felt almost ready to cry; for Tom's jacket would take an hour to mend at least, and she would have no time to read the book a friend had lent her. She only had a little while after the children had gone to bed, for her mother insisted upon going herself in good time, and so the mending of this jacket would occupy all her spare time this evening.

She grumbled a good bit about this, and Tom turned sulky over being grumbled at by a girl, and would not say where he had been, except that he went home with one of the other boys to see his rabbits.

Mrs. Winn was vexed, and Elsie cross; but Tom went off to bed without saying where he had been. And he took care to go to school the next day without any fuss. Elsie had mended his jacket very neatly, and he felt half ashamed this morning that he had given her so much trouble; but all he said to show it, was to tell Bobbie that he would come straight home from school and play with him.

During the last few weeks, Tom had often come home from school very late, and Elsie felt sure he must often have been late for the scholarship class. But her mother had not noticed this, for she was so very busy with her dressmaking at Christmas time, and Elsie had not told her, because she did not wish to add to her worry, and also because she hoped that after Christmas Tom would turn over a new leaf, and come home at meal times more regularly.

And she ventured to say as much to him, now that she had had to mend his jacket, and before he could wear it again.

"Oh, all right," said Tom. "Don't you worry your curly head over me; I can take care of myself," said Tom, carelessly.

"It don't look much like it to see your face," said Elsie. "And I think you ought to consider mother, as well as taking care of yourself; and you seem to forget everything but running the streets with that hateful Jack Bond. Mother was cross last night when she came down, soon after tea, and found you had not come in, for she wanted you to go to the shops for her."

"Oh, well, you went instead, and the run did you good," said Tom, as he went off whistling, yet somehow feeling uncomfortable about what his sister had said as to considering his mother.

"I must turn over a new leaf," said Tom, little dreaming what a painful turning over it was to be. He had promised Elsie he would do this after Christmas, and had thought no more about the matter, and he went off now trying to forget it.

Poor, foolish Tom! It was not difficult to forget all his promises to Elsie, about turning over a new leaf by-and-bye. He little guessed that it would soon be uncertain whether he would ever again have the opportunity of turning over a new leaf. There seemed plenty of time now, and Tom quite intended to be a good boy, and help his mother and sister by-and-bye.

That thief of time and present opportunity, "by-and-bye," so easily persuaded the foolish boy that he need not think of these things just yet. That he could forget them, and enjoy himself, and leave the future to take care of itself, without thinking of other people, and their claims upon him.