<h2>Chapter Eleventh.</h2>
<div class='poem'>
<span style="margin-left: 9em;">"Zeal and duty are not slow:</span><br/>
But on occasion's forelock watchful wait."<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 16.5em;">—<span class="smcap">Milton.</span></span><br/></div>
<p>"<span class="smcap">The</span> impudent thing!" exclaimed Mildred
to her mother with a flushed and angry
face; "putting us and our maid of all work on
the same level! Visit her? Not I, indeed,
and I do hope, mother, that neither you nor
Aunt Wealthy will ever cross their threshold."</p>
<p>"My dear, she probably did not mean it,"
said Mrs. Keith.</p>
<p>"And now let us go on with our story.
You have all waited quietly and politely like
good children."</p>
<p>"Gotobed Lightcap! Lightcap! Gotobed
Nightcap!" sang Cyril, tumbling about on the
carpet. "O Don, don't you wish you had such
a pretty name?"</p>
<p>"No, I wouldna; I just be Don."</p>
<p>"There, dears, don't talk now; sister's going<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</SPAN></span>
to read," said their mother. "If you don't
want to be still and listen you may run out
and play in the yard."</p>
<p>"Somebody else tumin'," whispered Fan,
pulling at her mother's skirts.</p>
<p>Mildred closed again the book she had just
resumed, rose and inviting the new comer to
enter, handed her a chair.</p>
<p>She was a tall, gaunt, sallow-complexioned
woman of uncertain age, with yellow hair, pale
watery blue eyes, and a sanctimonious expression
of countenance.</p>
<p>Her dress was almost austere in its simplicity;
a dove-colored calico, cotton gloves of a
little darker shade, a white muslin handkerchief
crossed on her bosom, a close straw bonnet
with no trimming but a skirt of plain, white
ribbon and a piece of the same put straight
across the top, brought down over the ears and
tied under the chin.</p>
<p>"My name is Drybread," she announced
with a slight, stiff courtesy; then seating herself
bolt upright on Mildred's offered chair,
waited to be addressed.</p>
<p>"Mrs. or Miss?" queried Mrs. Keith pleasantly.</p>
<p>"Miss. And yours?"</p>
<p>"Mrs. Keith. Allow me to introduce my<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</SPAN></span>
aunt, Miss Stanhope, and my daughter Mildred.
These little people too belong to me."</p>
<p>"Gueth we do so?" said Don, showing a
double row of pearly teeth, "cauth you're our
own mamma. Ain't she, Cyril?"</p>
<p>"Do you go to school, my little man?"
asked the visitor, unbending slightly in the
stiffness of her manner.</p>
<p>"Ain't your man! don't like dwy bwead,
'cept when I'se vewy hungwy."</p>
<p>"Neither do I," chimed in Cyril. "And
we don't go to school. Papa says we're not
big enough."</p>
<p>"Don! Cyril! my little boys must not be
rude," reproved the mamma. "Run away now
to your plays."</p>
<p>"They're pretty children," remarked the
caller as the twain disappeared.</p>
<p>"Very frank in the expression of their
sentiments and wishes," the mother responded
smiling.</p>
<p>"Extremely so, I should say;" added Mildred
dryly.</p>
<p>"Is it not a mother's duty to curb and
restrain?" queried the visitor, fixing her cold
blue eyes upon Mrs. Keith's face.</p>
<p>"Certainly; where she deems it needful."</p>
<p>Mrs. Keith's tones were perfectly sweet-tempered;<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</SPAN></span>
Mildred's not quite so, as she added
with emphasis, "And no one so capable of
judging when it is needful as my mother."</p>
<p>"Quite natural and proper sentiments for
her daughter, no doubt. How do you like
Pleasant Plains?"</p>
<p>The question was addressed more particularly
to Miss Stanhope, and it was she who replied.</p>
<p>"We are quite disposed to like the place
Miss Stalebread; the streets are widely pleasant
and would be quite beautiful if the forest
trees had been left."</p>
<p>"My name is <i>Dry</i>bread! a good honest
name; if not quite so aristocratic and fine
sounding as Keith."</p>
<p>"Excuse me!" said Miss Stanhope. "I
have an unfortunate kind of memory for names
and had no intention of miscalling yours."</p>
<p>"Oh! then it's all right.</p>
<p>"Mrs. Keith, I'm a teacher; take young
boys and girls of all ages. Perhaps you might
feel like entrusting me with some of yours. I
see you have quite a flock."</p>
<p>"I will take it into consideration," Mrs.
Keith answered; "What branches do you
teach?"</p>
<p>"Reading, writing, arithmetic, geography
and English grammar."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I've heard of teachers boarding round,"
remarked Mildred, assailed by a secret apprehension;
"is that the way you do?"</p>
<p>"No; I live at home, at my father's."</p>
<p>Miss Drybread was scarcely out of earshot
when Ada burst out vehemently.</p>
<p>"I don't want to be distrusted to her! she
doesn't look distrusty, does she, Zillah? Mother
please don't consider it!"</p>
<p>"But just say yes at once?" asked mother
playfully, pressing a kiss upon the little flushed,
anxious face.</p>
<p>"Oh no, no, no! please, mamma dear;"
cried the child returning the caress and putting
her arms lovingly about her mother's neck.
"You didn't like her, did you?"</p>
<p>Mrs. Keith acknowledged laughingly that
she had not been very favorably impressed, and
Zillah joining in Ada's entreaties, presently
promised that she would try to hear their lessons
at home. A decision which was received
with delight and a profusion of thanks and
caresses.</p>
<p>Mildred was glad to find herself alone with
her mother that evening for a short time, after
the younger ones were in bed; for she had a
plan to unfold.</p>
<p>It was that she should act as governess to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</SPAN></span>
her sisters, and the little boys, if they were considered
old enough now to begin the ascent of
the hill of science.</p>
<p>"My dear child!" the mother said with a
look of proud affection into the glowing animated
face, "I fully appreciate the love and
self-devotion to me and the children that have
prompted this plan of yours; but I am by no
means willing to lay such heavy burdens on
your young shoulders."</p>
<p>"But mother—"</p>
<p>"Wait a little, dearie, till I have said my
say. Your own studies must be taken up
again. Your father is greatly pleased with an
arrangement he has just made for you and Rupert
and Zillah to recite to Mr. Lord.</p>
<p>"The English branches, Latin, Greek and
the higher mathematics, are what he is willing
to undertake to teach."</p>
<p>Mildred's eyes sparkled. "O mother, how
glad I am! Will he open a school?"</p>
<p>"No; only hear recitations for a couple of
hours every week-day except Saturdays, which
he says he must have unbroken for his pulpit
preparations.</p>
<p>"Your father thinks he is very glad of the
opportunity to add a little to his salary; which,
of course, is quite small."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Then we study at home? I shall like that.
But he won't take little ones?"</p>
<p>"No; none that are too young to learn
Latin. Your father wants Zillah to begin that
now; and he hopes that a few others will join
the class—some of the Chetwoods, perhaps."</p>
<p>Mildred's face was all aglow with delight;
for she had a great thirst for knowledge, and
there had seemed small hope of satisfying it in
this little frontier town where the means for
acquiring a liberal education were so scant and
poor.</p>
<p>"So you see, daughter, you will have no
lack of employment," Mrs. Keith went on;
"especially as with such inefficient help in the
kitchen and with general housework, I shall
often be compelled to call upon you; or rather,"
she added, with a slight caress, "to accept the
assistance you are only too ready to give."</p>
<p>"It is too bad!" cried the girl, indignantly;
"that Viny doesn't earn her salt! I wonder
how you can have patience with her, mother,
if I were her mistress I'd have sent her off at a
moment's warning long before this."</p>
<p>"Let us try to imitate God's patience with
us, which is infinite;" Mrs. Keith answered low
and reverently; "let us bear with her a little
longer. But indeed, I do not know that we<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</SPAN></span>
could fill her place with any one who would
be more competent or satisfactory in any way."</p>
<p>"I'm afraid that is quite true; but it does
seem too hard that such a woman as my gifted,
intellectual, accomplished mother should have
to spend her life in the drudgery of housework,
cooking, mending and taking care of babies."</p>
<p>"No, dear; you are taking a wrong view of
it. God appoints our lot; he chooses all our
changes for us; Jesus, the God-man, dignified
manual labor by making it his own employment
during a great part of his life on earth;
and 'it is enough for the disciple that he be as
his Master, and the servant as his Lord.'</p>
<p>"Besides, what sweeter work can a mother
have than the care and training of her own offspring?"</p>
<p>"But then the cooking, mother, and all the
rest of it!"</p>
<p>"Well, dear, the health, and consequently
the happiness and usefulness of my husband
and children, depend very largely upon the
proper preparation of their food; so that is no
mean task."</p>
<p>"Ah, mother, you are determined to make
out a good case and not to believe yourself
hardly used," said Mildred, smiling, yet speaking
in a half petulant tone.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"No, I am not hardly used; my life is
crowned with mercies, of the very least of which
I am utterly unworthy," her mother answered,
gently.</p>
<p>"And, my child, I find that any work is
sweet when done 'heartily as to the Lord and
not unto men!' What sweeter than a service
of love! 'Be ye followers of God as dear children.'"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Aunt Wealthy, coming in at
the moment; "'as dear children,' not as servants
or slaves, but doing the will of God from
the heart; not that we may be saved, but because
we are saved; our obedience not the
ground of our acceptance; but the proof of our
love to Him, our faith in Him who freely gives
us the redemption purchased for us by His own
blood. Oh what a blessed religion it is! how
sweet to belong to Jesus and to owe everything
to him!"</p>
<p>"I feel it so," Mrs. Keith said, with an undertone
of deep joy in her sweet voice.</p>
<p>"And I," whispered Mildred, laying her
head in her mother's lap as she knelt at her
side, as had been her wont in childish days.</p>
<p>They were all silent after that for many
minutes, sitting there in the gloaming; Mrs.
Keith's hand passing softly, caressingly over<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</SPAN></span>
her daughter's hair and cheeks; then Mildred
spoke.</p>
<p>"Let me try it, mother dear; teaching the
children, I mean. You know there is nothing
helps one more to be thorough; and I want to
fit myself for teaching if ever I should have my
own living to earn."</p>
<p>"Well, well, my child, you may try."</p>
<p>"That's my own dear mother!" exclaimed
the girl joyfully, starting up to catch and kiss
the hand that had been caressing her. "Now,
I must arrange my plans. I shall have to be
very systematic in order to do all I wish."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Miss Stanhope, "one can accomplish
very little without system, but often
a great deal with it."</p>
<p>Mildred set to work with cheerfulness and
a great deal of energy and determination, and
showed herself not easily conquered by difficulties;
the rest of that week was given to planning
and preparing for her work, and on the following
Monday her long neglected studies were resumed
and her duties as family governess entered
upon.</p>
<p>These took up the morning from nine to
twelve, but by early rising and diligence she
was able to do a good deal about the house before
the hour for lessons to begin.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Her mother insisted that she must have an
hour for recreation every afternoon, taking a
walk when the weather permitted; then another
for study, and the two with Mr. Lord left but a
small margin for anything else; the sewing
and reading with mother and sisters usually
filled out the remainder of the day.</p>
<p>Sometimes her plans worked well and she
was able to go through the round of self-imposed
duties with satisfaction to herself and to
that of her mother and aunt, who looked on with
great interest and were ever on the watch to
lend a helping hand and keep hindrances out
of her way.</p>
<p>But these last would come now and again,
in the shape of callers, accidents, mischievous
pranks on the part of the little ones or delinquencies
on that of the maid of all work, till at
times Mildred's patience and determination
were sorely tried.</p>
<p>She would grow discouraged, be nearly ready
to give up, then summon all her energies to
the task, battle with her difficulties and for a
time rise superior to them.</p>
<p>But a new foe appeared upon the field and
vanquished her. It was the ague, attacking
now one, and now another of the family; soon
they were seldom all well and it was no uncommon<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</SPAN></span>
thing for two or three to be down with
it at once. Viny took it and left, and they
hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry.</p>
<p>Governessing had to be given up, nursing
and housework substituted for that and for
sewing and reading, while still for some weeks
longer the lessons with Mr. Lord were kept up;
but at length they also had to be dropped, for
Mildred herself succumbed to the malaria and
grew too weak, ill and depressed for study.</p>
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