Chapter XXV: Changes

THE day following Mousey's return to her cousin's home was the first of the winter term, and she went back to school with a light heart to compare her experiences of the holidays with those of the other girls. Even Nellie Thomas had not had a brighter or happier time than Mousey.

Engrossed with her work, interested in her teachers and school-fellows, it was natural that the little girl should not miss John Monday much, except perhaps when she had a difficult sum to master and lacked his willing help. She had enough home work now to keep her occupied nearly all the evenings, so that she had no spare time on her hands except on the weekly holiday.

"They are not working you too hard at school, are they?" said Mr. Harding one night a trifle anxiously, as Mousey at last closed her books and laid them aside.

"Oh, no, Cousin Robert," she answered brightly. "You know I want to get on so as to be raised into a higher class next term."

"I've tired myself to-day," he presently remarked; "I've been house-hunting. Jones has decided to buy the business, and take it on at Christmas, so we shall have to turn-out of here then."

"Oh, I am glad!" she exclaimed involuntarily.

"I don't think I'm sorry myself. The fact is, I'm getting past work, and things worry me now that I used to take as matters of course. By the way, you heard from Cousin Eliza this morning. Did she tell you how John Monday was behaving?"

"Yes. She says he is doing well."

"I am glad to hear it. Mr. Bradley must be told that, for he takes an interest in the boy."

"Does he know John is with Uncle Dick?" Mousey inquired.

"Yes. I gave him the information one day when he called to ask if I had had any news of 'the poor, misguided lad,' as he called him."

The little girl was surprised to hear this, but she asked no further questions.

"I saw a small house to-day that I thought might suit us," Mr. Harding informed her. "It is not far from where the Thomas' live. I dare say you may have noticed it—it stands in its own grounds, and has a pretty summer-house in one corner of the front garden."

"You don't mean Homeleigh, do you?" Mousey said, feeling quite astounded at the idea of such a possibility, for she knew the little dwelling well by sight, and had admired it often. "Oh, Cousin Robert, you can't mean Homeleigh!"

"Why not, eh?" Mr. Harding questioned gruffly, with a sharp glance.

"It is such a lovely place!" she cried, her checks flushing with excitement. "I never dreamt you would think of living in a house like that!"

"Well, I do think of living there," he said, smiling, "and I'm pleased to see you like the idea. On Saturday we'll go and look over the place. Perhaps we'd better take Maria with us to make sure the kitchen arrangements are all right."

"I do hope someone else won't take the house before then!"

"Not very likely," he replied, laughing; "but I've spoken to the agent who has the letting of it, and he has promised me the refusal of it, anyway."

Accordingly, the following Saturday found Mr. Harding, with Mousey and Maria, going carefully over the pretty villa which was to be their new abode. They found everything to their satisfaction, and Mousey could not repress a cry of mingled relief and joy when Mr. Harding said decidedly—

"Yes, I like the place, and shall take it."

Whilst they were going around the gardens, Mousey saw Mrs. Thomas and Nellie in the road outside; they both paused in astonishment at sight of the little girl and her companions.

"Oh, do let me ask Nellie to come in and go over the house," Mousey said coaxingly to Mr. Harding.

"You cannot do that without asking her mother as well," he reminded her.

"Perhaps Mrs. Thomas would like to come too. I'll go and ask her." And before he could raise an objection she had darted from his side, and was running towards the gate.

Mr. Harding looked put out for a moment, whilst Maria drew back, inwardly much amused, wondering how her master would act. After a short hesitation, however, he went to the garden gate, and invited Mrs. Thomas and Nellie to enter.

"My little cousin is anxious you should see the house we intend making our new home," he commenced; then added quickly, "I hope shortly we shall move in here, and then we may be able to show your little daughter some hospitality in return for your great kindness to Mousey."

"We shall be neighbours," Mrs. Thomas remarked genially. "I always thought Homeleigh a very pretty house, and I am so glad you are going to take it, Mr. Harding."

The old man smiled, and escorted her through the house and around the gardens. He made himself most agreeable, so that when they parted they had become quite friendly, and Mrs. Thomas and Nellie had come to the conclusion that Mousey's cousin was a much nicer person than he was usually represented.

"Mrs. Thomas seems a very pleasant woman, child," Mr. Harding said to Mousey that night, "and your friend is a pretty little girl, with pleasing manners."

"I knew you'd like them," Mousey responded warmly. "Am I really to ask Nellie to come and see us when we are living at Homeleigh?"

Her cousin nodded, and Mousey clapped her hands with delight.

"How busy we shall be when Christmas comes!" she cried. "Won't it be fun changing houses? And won't John Monday be surprised when he hears we're going to leave here?"

"I don't believe I should have thought of leaving if he had remained," Mr. Harding said thoughtfully; "but that burglary upset me. It wasn't the loss of the money exactly, though, of course, three pounds sixteen shillings and sixpence is a good bit to lose, but I had become accustomed to John Monday, and he knew my customers. Certainly he worried me sometimes, but still, he had his good points—I must own that."

This was a great deal for Mr. Harding to acknowledge; but the truth was, he missed his late assistant more than he cared to say; and when one morning he received a letter from him, enclosing a postal order for half a crown, "towards repaying you for the loss you made through me," as John Monday explained, he knew not what to think.

"I shall not keep the money," he declared, after he had told Mousey about it. "The idea of his sending it to me—the first money he has been able to save, he says, and he hopes to pay me the full amount if I will take it in instalments."

"I think it's very nice of him, don't you, Cousin Robert?" the little girl inquired. "It shows he wants to make up to you what you lost."

"But I don't want him to do that," the old man protested; "I never dreamt he would think of doing it. No, I can't take it. I shall send it back to him."

This he accordingly did, writing at the same time a stiff little note, which nevertheless breathed such evident goodwill that it touched the heart of John Monday when he received it.

That was the first money Mr. Harding had ever refused in his life; and it astonished Maria greatly that he should have done so now.

"I can't think what's come to master," she told Mousey in confidence; "he seems to me to have altered lately. I was amazed when he told me he meant to retire from business, and since then I've seen things that have set me thinking—little things, perhaps, but they show there's a change somewhere. I date it from the time you came here, my dear; since then master's been slowly but surely changing his ways. I'm sure he doesn't set such store by his money as he did; perhaps he's found out the folly of hoarding it."

"Perhaps he has," Mousey answered thoughtfully.

She was reminded of Maria's words when, on the next Sunday afternoon, her cousin asked her to read the Bible to him, and instead of letting her choose a portion where she pleased, requested her to read the chapter with the verse in it which commenced, "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth." She complied, and when she had finished told him that it had been her mother's favourite chapter.

"She said it was so comforting, for it tells how God knows what things we have need of," she explained "and that He will give us all we want. Only we must seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness everything else comes after!"

Everything else comes after! The old man pondered over the child's words, and thought of the many years he had toiled to make money until the lust for gain had eaten into his heart, and he had had few scruples as to the ways in which he had added to that earthly treasure, which had assuredly stood between him and the kingdom of God. Truly had he proved the truth of Christ's words—

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."