Betty's Battles Part 15

"Be very prayerful, very loving, very wise. Use all the faculties the Lord has given you, give your whole self to His service, and trust Him!

G.o.d bless you! I shall pray for you and for your brother too," and Captain Janet clasps Betty's hand warmly and leaves her.

What a change the Captain's words have wrought in Betty's thoughts! She is no longer conscious of a heavy burden, for all her heart is filled with courage and eager hopefulness.

A soul-winner! Does Captain really think she may be that one day? Oh, how beautiful--how wonderful! A flood of joy, pure and sweet, rushes over her heart at the thought. Never, even with dear Grannie, even among the breezy moors, and blue hills, and clear skies of Grannie's home, has she felt a delight so intense. It is, indeed, as though she had caught a glimpse of Heaven.

Ah! what does it matter though she does live in a dull, city street; though her days must be spent in common-place work? It is the Lord alone who can give true happiness, and to none who serve Him in spirit and in truth does He deny His gift.

"Bob, is this the right kind of string? You wanted a new one, I know.

The woman at the shop said it would most likely be the E string that required renewing."

Bob, taken completely off his guard, looks up eagerly from his tea and bread and b.u.t.ter. "Yes, that's it; that's just what I----" He stops short, suddenly remembering his determination never to speak of his violin to Betty again.

"It _is_ right? Now I call that fortunate," goes on Betty, quietly. "I expect you know how to put it in, don't you, Bob?"

Bob melts still further at this. "Oh, yes; Mr. Wright, one of the teachers at my school, showed me how to put strings in. It's easy enough."

"Ah! but I've heard father say that it's very difficult to get a violin in tune after fitting in a new string."

Bob's face clouds over again; but Betty hastens to add, "Couldn't I help you a bit with the tuning? Couldn't I sound the notes on the piano while you screwed up the string--surely, that is the way people generally do tune violins?"

"Yes; but----"

"But what, Bob, dear?"

"You've got those accounts to do, or something."

"Oh, I've done for to-day. Come, I shall enjoy it, not the music, just yet, perhaps, but I should enjoy helping you, Bob."

Bob makes no answer to this; but directly tea is finished he runs upstairs for the violin-case, and the brother and sister are soon seated together before the shabby little piano.

For the next half-hour there is little heard between them, save--"Too sharp, Bob." "A little lower still." "I say, Betty, give us the octave of that note," and so on. At last the instrument is really in tune, and then the pair try an exercise together, with fairly good results. Bob is delighted.

"Why, Betty, this is first-cla.s.s! Mr. Wright said I ought to get some one to play with me."

"I should just love to do it, Bob."

There is a long pause. Betty feels she ought to say something more, but doesn't know how to begin.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A little lower still."]

"I say, Betty"--Bob is speaking in quite a different tone of voice now--"I say, you didn't really think I meant to _buy_ the violin, did you?"

"Why, Bob, didn't you say so?"

"No; I said I'd take it if it suited me. Charlie Wright--my teacher's boy, you know--wanted to change it away for my old camera."

"O Bob, I'm so glad--so very, very glad. Oh, why didn't you tell me before?"

"I meant to; but you took a fellow up so."

"Ah! I see just how it all happened. You must remember that I feel so anxious about every penny while father is away, and, Bob, I do want us all to think for one another, and--and"--Betty makes a great effort--"and try to live just as the Lord would have us live, Bob."

Dead silence. Betty's heart beats rapidly. Then come the most unexpected words she has ever heard in her life.

"You _do_ try."

"Bob! O Bob, don't say that. I don't deserve it!"

"Yes, you do, Betty. Do you think I haven't seen you trying? Come, come, old girl, don't cry."

"No--no, Bob; only I'm so happy. I----" Betty cannot trust her voice just now to p.r.o.nounce another word.

CHAPTER XI

FATHER AT HOME

"Father coming home?" cries Betty, as Mrs. Langdale folds up the letter, from which she has just read an extract, "O mother, how beautiful, coming home the day after to-morrow!"

"How jolly!" shouts Bob. "Three cheers for father!" "Jolly, jolly, three cheers!" echo the younger children; and mother says:--

"Well, it _is_ good news. Such a dreadful time it has been. I declare I've not felt quite myself one single minute since he went away. And, then, the money, too; not that he'll be well enough to go on with his work for months to come."

To Betty, however, the one joyful fact is enough.

"But to have father home again! It seems almost years since that night when he lay on the couch, so white and still. I say, mother, do let us give him a real welcome home--do let us make him see how glad we all are!"

"Why, Betty, what a girl you are! You really should think before you speak. You know very well that we haven't a penny to spend on anything."

"Of course, I know. But, mother, that isn't what I mean. Couldn't we _do_ something? For instance, I'm sure dear father likes to see things neat and nice. Couldn't we have a real big, spring-clean all over the house?"

"A 'spring' clean in summer, you silly child!"

"Well, you know what I mean. Let's have the curtains down, and the carpets up, and polish the furniture all over."

"That's a jolly good idea of yours, Betty," cries Bob, enthusiastically.

"And I tell you what, you've helped me ever so much lately, now I'll just turn round and help _you_. I'm off to get the small pincers from father's tool chest. Won't I have the carpets up in no time! If we all work together we shall soon get the job done."

Betty gives her brother a grateful look, but mother says:--

"I don't think your father will care a bit whether the house is tidy or not. He has never said a word to me about the place all the years we've lived here."

"Oh, but think! Coming straight from the hospital. We must make everything bright and cheerful. Poor father! Mother, do you feel well enough to wash and iron the curtains?"

"Yes, I'll do them; and Clara must clean the windows. But, really, I don't see the use of all this fuss and upset."