CHAPTER I
"GOOD-BYE, GRANNIE"
"Oh, Grannie, how sweet it all is here! How can I ever go!" cries Betty.
Betty's bag stands by the gate. Betty herself roams restlessly about thelittle garden, while Betty's Grannie shades her gentle old eyes from themorning sunshine, and peers down the road.
Betty's bag is stout and bulgy; stuffed full of Grannie's home-madegoodies, including a big plum-cake, and pots of delicious jam.
Betty herself is not stout at all; indeed, she is rather thin. She cameto Grannie's country home, five weeks ago, to grow strong again after abad illness; but though the moorland breezes have brought colour back toher cheeks, and strength to her long limbs, they have given no plumpnessto either.
Betty's Grannie--well, she _is_ Grannie, a true Army Grannie, with aheart large enough to take in everybody's troubles, and a spirit wiseenough to find a cure for most of them.
"The carrier's cart is a little later than usual," remarks Grannie,still peering down the road; "but don't worry, you've plenty of time todo the ten miles to the station; and Bob the carrier will see you safeinto the express. Of course, your father will meet you when the trainarrives, so you've nothing to trouble about, dear."
"Nothing to trouble about!" Betty turns round quickly. "Oh, Grannie,it's leaving _you_ that troubles me so dreadfully--how can I go--how_can_ I, when I'm only just beginning to understand?"
During these five weeks Betty has grown to love her dear good Grannie asshe never loved anyone before, for, week by week, day by day, Granniehas been bringing her nearer and nearer to God.
"Last night, dear child, you gave your heart into the Lord's keeping,"says Grannie softly, laying a loving hand on the girl's shoulder, "andHe is with those who trust Him always, wherever they may go."
"Yes, I know, Grannie; and while I'm with you it seems so easy to doright--and though you are so wise and good, you never get cross with mewhen I make mistakes, or answer too sharply--but, Oh, it is sodifferent--so very different at home! Whatever shall I do without you?"
And Betty flings her arms round the old woman's neck, and clings to heras though she would never let her go.
"Your home is God's gift to you, Betty," says Grannie, gravely.
"My home? Grannie, it's _horrid_ at home sometimes! The rooms are sostuffy, and dark, and untidy, and I hate untidy rooms! The children arealways quarrelling, and they shout and stamp until my head aches andaches, and mother never seems to care. If only it were pretty and cleanand fresh like this place--if only mother were like you!"
But Grannie's face grows graver still.
"Hush, hush, Betty! Indeed, you must not allow yourself to run on inthis way. Remember, you have given yourself to God now, and you must dothe work He puts into your hands bravely and well.
"Of course, it is easier to be cheerful and good when there is nothingto try us. Of course, it is easier to carry a light burden than a heavyone. Your father is poor, and there are many little ones. Your motherhas struggled through long years of weary work and anxiety. It is yourpart to be their help and comfort, Betty."
"I will try, indeed, I will; and I'll try to remember all you've toldme, all the dear beautiful talks we've had together, and--and lastnight, Gran."
"That's my own darling!"
"Yes, I'm really going to be good now, and patient, and unselfish, andI'll help mother, and teach the children, and make our home as sweet asyour home is. But, Oh, dear Grannie, if you could only see our home--itmakes me so cross, for nobody even tries to help, and they are all socareless, and snap one up so."
Betty stops short, there is a queer little twinkle in Grannie's eye thatis almost like a question.
"Oh, yes, I know. _I_ am snappy sometimes; but they are all so unjust.When I try to put things straight a bit, Bob is sure to say I've lostsome of his books; and, Grannie, it isn't 'interfering' is it to tellpeople of a thing when you know it's wrong?"
"It may be 'interfering' even to put things straight, dear, unless youare very careful to let love do the seeing, and speaking, and doing.
"Courage, Betty! You were very weak and listless when you came fiveweeks ago; and your heart was heavy and sad. Now you are my own strongBetty again. And the Lord has come to dwell in your heart and take itssadness away.
"Let Him reign in your heart, Betty; give Him the whole of it. In Hisstrength you will learn to check the 'snappy' words when they rise toyour lips; to conquer the discontented thoughts and careless habits. Youwill learn to be happy and bright, and to make all those around youhappy too."
But Betty thinks, "Clearly Grannie doesn't know how horrid things are athome sometimes; if mother would only let me manage altogether itwouldn't be half so difficult."
"The carrier's cart, my child!"
Betty lifts her head from Grannie's shoulder and hastily wipes her eyes.
The cart stops; the bulgy bag, the paper parcel, and big bunch ofsweet-smelling, old-fashioned flowers are lifted in. Betty turns toGrannie for the final kiss.
"Remember, dear, the little crosses of daily life, borne bravely andcheerfully for Jesus' sake, will make you a true Soldier, and win acrown of glory by and by," whispers Grannie, as she presses hergrandchild in her kind arms.
Betty nods, and then turns her head away very quickly; she dare nottrust herself to speak.
The cart moves away. Yes, now, indeed, her holiday is over!
The blue sky, the golden gorse, the fresh, sweet air of the moors, theyare still around her, but they belong to her no more.
Through a mist of tears she looks back at the little cottage where shehas been so happy; Grannie still stands by the gate--round that turn inthe road beyond is the village, and the little Salvation Army Hall,where Grannie goes every Sunday.
It was at the close of the Meeting last night that she gave her heart toGod. Then afterwards, in her dear little bedroom, with her head buriedin Grannie's lap, she felt so strong, so sure--and now?
"Oh, dear; Oh, dear," she sobs, "it is all so different at home!"