It was an innocent question; but instead of answering, Eleanor turned again to the window. She sat with her hand pressed upon her mouth, while the full eyes brimmed and ran over, and filled again; and drop after drop plashed upon the window-sill. It was impossible to help it, for that minute; and Julia looked on wonderingly.
"O Nell," she repeated almost awe-struck, "what is it? What has made you sorry too?--" But she had to wait a little while for her answer.
"He was a good friend to me," said Eleanor at last, wiping her eyes; "and I suppose it is not very absurd to cry for a friend that is gone, that one will never see again."
"Maybe he will come back some time," said Julia sorrowfully.
"Not while there is work there for him to do," said Eleanor. She waited a little while. There was some difficulty in going on. When she did speak her tone was clear and firm.
"Julia, shall we follow the Lord as Mr. Rhys does?"
"How?"
"By doing whatever Jesus gives us to do."
"What has he given us to do?" said Julia.
"If you come to my room in the mornings, we will read and find out. And we will pray, and ask to be taught."
Julia"s countenance lightened and clouded with alternate changes.
"Will you, Eleanor! But what have we got to do?"
"Love Jesus."
"Well I--O I did use to, Eleanor! and I think I do now; only I have forgotten to think about anything, this ever so long."
"Then if we love him, we shall find plenty of things to do for him."
"What, Eleanor? I would like to do something."
"Just whatever he gives us, Julia. Come, darling,--have you not duties?"
"Duties?"
"Have you not things that it is your duty to do?--or not to do?"
"Studies!" said Julia. "But I don"t like them."
"For Jesus" sake?"
Julia burst into tears. Eleanor"s tone was so loving and gentle, it reached the memories that had been slumbering.
"How can I do them for him, Eleanor?" she asked, half perversely still.
""Whatsoever ye do, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." So he has told us."
"But my studies, Eleanor? how can I?"
"Who gave you the opportunity, Julia?"
"Well--I know."
"Well, if G.o.d has given you the opportunity, do you think he means it for nothing? He has work for you to do, Julia, some time, for which you will want all these things that you have a chance of learning now; if you miss the chance, you will certainly not be ready for the work."
"Why, Eleanor!--that"s funny."
"What is it?"
"Why I never thought of such a thing."
"What did you think?"
"I thought I had French and German to study, for instance, because everybody else learned French and German. I did not think there was any use in it."
"You forgot who had given you them to learn."
"No, mamma would have it. Just her notion. Papa didn"t care."
"But dear Julia, you forget who has made it your duty to please mamma"s notions. And you forget who it is that has given you your place in the world. You might have been born in poverty, with quite other lessons to learn, and quite other work in the world."
"You talk just as queer as if you were Mr. Rhys himself," said Julia.
"I never heard of such things. Do you suppose all the girls who are learning French and German at school--all the girls in England--have the same sort of work to do? that they will want it for?"
"No, not all the same. But G.o.d never gives the preparation without the occasion."
"Then suppose they do not make the preparation?"
"Then when the occasion comes, they will not be ready for it. When their work is given them to do, they will be found wanting."
"It"s so queer!" said Julia.
"What?"
"To think such things about lessons."
"You may think such things about everything. Whatever G.o.d gives you, he gives you to use in some way for him."
"But how can I possibly know _how_, Eleanor?"
"Come to me in the mornings, and you and I will try to find out."
"Did you say, I must please all mamma"s notions?"
"Certainly--all you can."
"But I like papa"s notions a great deal better than mamma"s."