He does
not know that it costs my fastidious nature an appeal to God every
time I kiss his poor old face, and that what would be an act of
worship in him is an act of self-denial in me. How should he? The
Christian life is a hidden known only by the eye that seeth in
secret. And I do believe this life is mine.
Up to this time I have contrived to get along without calling
Ernest's father by any name. I mean now to make myself turn over a
new leaf.
DECEMBER 7.-James is my perpetual joy and pride. We read and sing
together, just as we used to do in our old school days. Martha sits
by, with her work, grimly approving; for is he not a man? And, as if
my cup of felicity were not full enough, I am to have my dear old
pastor come here to settle over this church, and I shall once more
hear his beloved voice in the pulpit. Ernest has managed the whole
thing. He says the state of Dr. C.'s health makes the change quite
necessary, and that he can avail himself of the best surgical advice
this city affords, in case his old difficulties recur. I rejoice for
myself and for this church, but mother will miss him sadly.
I am leading a very busy, happy life, only I am, perhaps, working a
little too hard. What with my scholars, the extra amount of housework
Martha contrives to get out of me, the practicing I must keep up if I
am to teach, and the many steps I have to take, I have not only no
idle moments, but none too many for recreation.
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