CHAPTER TWELVE.
TRYING ON THE ARMOUR.
"Oh, thy father 'll do right well!" said Rose encouragingly. "I dare bebound he thought it should be a pleasant change for thee."
"Ay, I dare say Father thought of us and what we should like," saidCissy. "He nodded to Mistress Wade, and smiled on me, as he went forth;so of course I had to 'bide. But then, you see, I'm always thinking ofFather."
"I see," said Rose, laughing; "it's not, How shall I do without Father?but, How can Father do without me?"
"That's it," replied Cissy, nodding her capable little head. "He'll dowithout Will and Baby--not but he'll miss them, you know; but they don'tdo nothing for him like _me_."
This was said in Cissy's most demure manner, and Rose was exceedinglyamused.
"And, prithee, what dost thou for him?" said she.
"I do everything," said Cissy, with an astonished look. "I light thefire, and dress the meat, [Note 1] and sweep the floor. Only I can't doall the washing yet; Neighbour Ursula has to help me with that. Butabout Father--please, when I've said the Paternoster [the Lord'sPrayer], and the Belief, and the Commandments, might I ask, think you,for somebody to go in and do things for Father? I know he'll miss mevery ill."
"Thou dear little-soul!" cried Rose.
But Cissy was looking up at Elizabeth, whom she dimly discerned to bethe graver and wiser of the two girls. Elizabeth smiled at her in thatquiet, sweet way which she usually did.
"Little Cissy," she said, "is not God thy Father, and his likewise? Andthinkest thou fathers love to see their children happy and at ease, orno?"
"Father likes us to be happy," said Cissy simply.
"And `your Father knoweth,'" softly replied Elizabeth, "`that ye haveneed of all these things.'"
"Oh, then, He'll send in Ursula, or somebody," responded Cissy, in acontented tone. "It'll be all right if I ask Him to see to it."
And Cissy "asked Him to see to it," and then lay down peacefully, hertranquillity restored, by the side of little Will, and all the childrenwere asleep in a few minutes.
"Now, Bessy, we can have our talk."
So saying, Rose drew the stools into a corner, out of the way of thewind, which came puffing in at the skylight in a style rather unpleasantfor November, and the girls sat down together for a chat.
"How go matters with you at Master Clere's, Bessy?"
"Oh, middling. I go not about to complain, only that I would MistressAmy were a bit steadier than she is."
"She's a gadabout, isn't she?"
"Nay, I've said all I need, and maybe more than I should."
"Doth Master Clere go now to mass, Bessy?"
"Oh, ay, as regular as any man in the town, and the mistress belike.The net's drawing closer, Rose. The time will soon come when even youand I, low down as we are, shall have to make choice, with death at theend of one way."
"Ay, I'm afeard so," said Rose gravely. "Bessy, think you that you canstand firm?"
"Firm as a rock, if God hold me up; weak and shifting as water, if Hehold me not."
"Ay, thou hast there the right. But we are only weak, ignorant maidens,Bessy."
"Then is He the more likely to hold us up, since He shall see we need itrather. If thou be high up on the rock, out of reach of the waves, whatmatter whether thou be a stone weight or a crystal vessel? The watersbeat upon the rock, not on thee."
"But one sees them coming, Bess."
"Well, what if thou dost? They'll not touch thee."
"Eh, Bess, the fire 'll touch us, be sure!"
"It'll touch our flesh--the outward case of us--that which can drop offand turn to dust. It can never meddle with Rose Allen and ElizabethFoulkes."
"Bessy, I wish I had thy good courage."
"Why, Rose, art feared of death?"
"Not of what comes after, thank God! But I'm feared of pain, Bessy, andof dying. It seems so shocking, when one looks forward to it."
"Best not look forward. Maybe 'tis more shocking to think of than tofeel. That's the way with many things."
"O Bessy! I can't look on it calm, like that. It isn't nature."
"Nay, dear heart, 'tis grace, not nature."
"And thou seest, in one way, 'tis worser for me than for thee. Thou artthyself alone; but there's Father and Mother with me. How could I bearto see them suffer?"
"The Lord will never call thee to anything, Rose, which He will not givethee grace to bear. Be sure of that. Well, I've no father--he's inHeaven, long years ago. But I've a good mother at Stoke Nayland, andI'd sooner hurt my own head than her little finger, any day I live.Dear maid, neither thou nor I know to what the Lord will call us. We dobut know that on whatever journey He sendeth us, Himself shall pay thecharges. Thou goest not a warfare at thine own cost. How many times inGod's Word is it said, `Fear not?' Would the Lord have so oft repeatedit, without He had known that we were very apt to fear?"
"Ah!" said Rose, sighing, "and the `fearful' be among such as are leftwithout the gate. O Bessy, if that fear should overcome me that I drawback! I cannot but think every moment shall make it more terrible tobear. And if one held not fast, but bought life, as soon as the firewere felt, by denying the truth! I am feared, dear heart! I'm feared."
"It shall do thee no hurt to be feared of thyself, only lose not thinehold on God. `Hold _Thou_ me up, and I shall be safe.' But that shouldnot be, buying life, Bessy, but selling it."
"I know it should be bartering the life eternal, for the sake of a fewyears, at most, of this lower life. Yet life is main sweet, Bessy, andwe are young. `All that a man hath will he give for his life.'"
"Think not on the life, Rose, nor on what thou givest, but alone on Himfor whom thou givest it. Is He not worth the pain and the loss?Couldst thou bear to lose _Him_?--Him, who endured the bitter rood[Cross] rather than lose thee. That must never be, dear heart."
"I do trust not, verily; yet--"
"What, not abed yet?" cried the cheery voice of Mrs Wade. "I came upbut to see if you had all you lacked. Doll's on her way up. I reckonshe shall be here by morning. A good maid, surely, but main slow.What! the little ones be asleep? That's well. But, deary me, what longfaces have you two! Are you taking thought for your funeral, or whatdiscourse have you, that you both look like judges?"
"Something like it, Hostess," said Elizabeth, with her grave smile."Truly, we were considering that which may come, and marvelling if weshould hold fast."
The landlady set her arms akimbo, and looked from one of the girls tothe other.
"Why, what's a-coming?" said she.
"Nay, we know not what, but--"
"Dear heart, then I'd wait till I did! I'll tell you what it is--I hateto have things wasted, even an old shoe-latchet; why, I pity to cast itaside, lest it should come in for something some day. Now, my goodmaids, don't waste your courage and resolution. Just you keep them tillthey're wanted, and then they'll be bright and ready for use. You'renot going to be burned to-night; you're going to bed. And screwing upyour courage to be burned is an ill preparation for going to bed, I cantell you. You don't know, and I don't, that any one of us will becalled to glorify the Lord in the fires. If we are, depend upon itHe'll show us how to do it. Now, then, say your prayers, and go tosleep."
"I thank you, Hostess, but I must be going home."
"Good-night, then, Bessy, and don't sing funeral dirges over your owncoffin afore it comes from the undertaker. What, Doll, hast really gothere? I scarce looked to see thee afore morning. Good-night, maids."
And Mrs Wade bustled away.
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Note 1. At this time they used the word _meat_ in the sense of food ofany kind--not butchers meat only.
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