Rachel Gray

sewhere, reached it not; but the sky was clear and blue, and on that azure field mounted the burning sun, g

Mrs. Gray understood him in all his beauty and sublimity, we know not, but at least, she read him, seriously, conscientiously-and many a fine lady cannot say as much. Rachel, too, read Milton, and loved him as a fine mind must ever love that

ider how my

s, in this dark

alent which is

seless, though m

ewith my Make

t, lest he, re

t day-labour,

: but Patien

on replies, 'Go

rk, or his own

ke, they serve h

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land and ocean

e, who only st

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nothing, for I am blind, and ignorant, and helpless, and what am I that the Lord should make use of me; yet, in His good

not Richard Jones, until he stood within a few paces of her chair. She gave a slight start on perceivin

lf smiling at the supposed alarm which had, sh

chair near to Rachel's, he sat down upon it, and, bending forward, with

u? I want you to advise me,"

echoed Rachel, looking up at

her in this wide world whom I respect as I do you. And I think I have proved it; for haven't I given you my little Mary? I couldn't do more, Miss Gr

by chance, that there was not-actually, that there was not a grocer's shop in this immediate vicinity!" Here Mr. Jones held up his forefinger by way of note of admiration. "Well, Miss Gray," he resumed impressively, "that thought haunted me. Why here was the very place for me! A grocer was wanted. I found out, too, that the rag and bottle shop round the corner was just the place for me, and the people left, too; but bless you. Mis

was still the child, and always the child. His own was

chel, smiling, "you can do

ry first; and you see the whole question is, which is best for her. Why, I aint slep

ones know how nervous he made the poor girl; besides, she felt quite bewildered at the strange views he took of the case h

t as you please. I think, too, that you are likely to do very well as a grocer, for we really do want one about here. But I only tell you what I think. I do n

ome faith, much charity, but the world's net was around him. His life was not like that of Rachel Gray-a heaven upon earth. And Rachel, who laboured under the disadvantages of a narrow education, and a narrow life, who had not enough kn

es in his or her own heart that source of all knowledge? And we complain that God goes away fro

changed the subject by asking to see his daughter.

n either. She complained of the heat, then of the cold, sat down, got up again, and gave herself all the airs of a precocious woman. Her father, leaning on his stick, looked at her with admixing fondne

ad away, and said his beard hurt her. "You hear her, Miss Gray," he exclaimed, chuckling, "does not

her pettishly. Upon which, Mr. Jones shook his head, look

t Rachel Gray, as she sat alone in the little back room on the even

sight of Richard Jones's devoted love for his child, inspired her with involuntary hope. She had grown up in the belief of her father's rooted indifference; might she not have been mistaken? was it not possible that his daughter could become dear to Thomas Gray, as other daughters were dear to their father? Rachel had always cherished the secret hope that it would one day be so, but because that hope was

itude, then expostulated with, then scolded, then denounced the persecutors of the helpless idiot; after which washing her hands of them, she walked backwards to her cellar, scorning to turn her back to the foe. But the enemy, nothing daunted, showed evident intentions of besieging her in her stronghold, and though Madame Rose made her appearance at the window, armed with a broomstick, she failed to strike that terror into the hearts of her assailants, which the formidable nat

day before, in the street; and Madame Rose had addressed a long and voluble discourse to Rachel, in Fr

room, Rachel heard Mrs. Brown's loud voice below in the parlour. Mrs. Gray was fully

dark staircase, Rachel half repented haying come. The voice of Madame Rose directed her to the right door-for there were several. She knocked gently; a shrill "entrez,"

vel in the experience of Rachel Gray, that she began to wonder how much truth there might be in the epithet occasionally bestowed on Madame Rose. For, first of all, she insisted on cooking a dish of onion soup

h as to say that the attainments of Mimi-so she called her-did not include speech. But Mimi was very good-very good indeed, only she coul

crutinizing, with a pitying glance, the ragged attire of her protege, Madame Rose jealously informed her that, as yet, the toilette of M

home, that will just d

I bring it to-

icacies, was one of her vanities. So, bending her head of one side, and patting her ear, as if to imply that there lay the fault,

that she was only going to fetch her an elegant dress presented to her by the goodness of Mademoiselle, and that she

that she understood, insisted on going out with her guest, and actually walked with her to her very door. In great trepidation, Rachel opened it, and unconscious of p

e could see Madame Rose safe out of the place. But Madame Rose was in no mood to go. She had recognized the room and window where she so often saw Rachel; and she intimated as much, by a lively pantomime; first taking up a book, she held it before her

om the surprise and alarm into which the musical outburst of Madame Rose had thrown her, her step-mother appeared at the door of the little back room, and, in ste

puritan spirit, to which, in the course of a long life, she

darkened her doors!-that she should be familiarly sitting under her roof-chattering and sin

voice quivering with indignation. "I am am

e Rose an humble and imploring glance, as they parted at the door, as much, as to say, "You know I could not help it." But the appeal was not needed. To her surprise, Madame Rose remained very good-humoured. She even laughed and shrugged her shoulders, French fashion, and indulged in a

f Rachel's acquaintance with that "mad French beggar;" was horror-struck on learning that the back-room window had been made the medium; and not satisf

ched. But when, in the height of her anger, Mrs. Gray railed at the poor little Frenchwoman, as little better tha

eports. I have watched her life day after day, and I have seen that it is holy. And, mother," added Rachel, sligh

ict, Mrs. Gray sn