Chapter VIII: "serves Him Right!"

"NOW, Aunt Ruth! See, the fire is blazing, and the wintry prospect is shut out, let us have a story or something!"

Their Aunt glanced on their eager faces, illumined by the firelight, and she smiled as she paused an instant.

"Serves him right!" she exclaimed, and the children looked round almost startled. They heard such words from each other occasionally, but certainly not from their gentle Aunt.

"'Serves him right,'" she repeated. "'He did it to me, and it's just as well he should feel the pinch himself!'"

"'What did he do, Rollo?' asked a school-fellow, curiously."

"'When I went down in class the other day, you should have seen the look in George's eyes! As he took his place above me, he muttered beneath his breath, "You should have worked harder last night, then it wouldn't have happened!" He knew I had a frightful headache, and could barely see a line.'"

"'Well,' said his school-fellow, 'George has got his deserts this time, for Joey hid his book till the last minute, and then found it, as innocent as anything, and we knew he'd be bound to go down, for he hadn't a moment to prepare.'"

"Rollo turned away, but his heart was heavy. It was all very well to be glad that his overbearing school-fellow had gone down in class; but such a trick as that was beyond him."

"He raced off to his dinner at home, and his footmarks were the only ones across the snowy fields."

"When he got in, the dinner was not quite ready, and he went and sat down in front of the fire, by which his little crippled sister lay on her couch."

"'Isn't all right to-day, Rollo?' she asked, wistfully."

"He looked up, then back to the fire."

"'Nothing particular,' he mumbled."

"'I'm sure there is,' she said gently."

"'It's only that George Runton is such a cad, and I said it served him right to go down in his class—'"

"'Well? Did you get blamed for saying that?' she asked."

"'By nobody but myself. I had a sort of feeling it wasn't nice of me: but I don't know why exactly. It did serve him right, and yet—'"

"'I know!' said Mary, very tenderly; 'it wasn't like "His compassions" was it?'"

"'His compassions?' asked Rollo, equally gently, for this little suffering sister was his pet and darling."

"'Don't you know it says, "His compassions fail not; they are new every morning." I'm often glad of that.'"

"'Why particularly?'"

"'Because we're often hard in our thoughts on other people—at least I am. But I'm often glad to remember that God is sorry for our mistakes without being hard, and He makes even our mistakes work round for our good if we will trust Him.'"

"Rollo looked dissatisfied."

"'Doesn't that help you at all?' asked Mary."

"'We're always paying each other out at school, or wishing we could,' objected Rollo. 'I don't seem to be able to help it.'"

"'Yes, I know; but when we get very tired of trying to be kind and to pay back a kind action instead of a nasty word, it does help to say to one's self, "His compassions fail not."'"

"'Well—' said Rollo, with a long-drawn breath, 'I'll try it. And here's dinner!'"

"He retraced his steps over the snow, and he looked up at the sky and saw the little robin singing on the branches in spite of the cold, and he repeated to himself tenderly, thinking of Mary's face: 'His compassions fail not; they are new every morning.'"

"For a moment his heart stood still. What about Mary's years of helplessness?"

"But he remembered that she had meant what she said, and there was nothing but truth from those gentle lips and eyes."

"When he got inside school he was almost late. In his hurry, he stumbled up against George Runton, and nearly knocked him over. He paused for one instant, then said, hastily, 'I'm sorry you lost your book, old fellow—it was awfully vexing.' And so passed on into school, with a wonderfully lightened heart."

* * * * * *

There was silence for a minute round the bright fire, for Auntie had set the children thinking.

"I suppose we are all apt to be hard on someone!" ventured Rose, at last.

"Yes, I expect we are," said Aunt Ruth. "We all have our different ways of showing it, and the things that make us hard differ with each of our dispositions. But God seems to me to stand like 'a shadow of a great rock in a weary land,' with His everlasting love ready to enfold us and protect us and calm us."

"Why did you tell us this to-day, Auntie?" asked Tom.

"Because—" she smiled archly, "I had heard those words, 'Serve him right,' eight times within the last two days!"

"Oh, Auntie!"

She jumped up and turned up the gas. "Who wants a game of dominoes till teatime?" she said brightly.

But nevertheless, they did not forget her little story.