"As we sow, we reap," thought Aunt Martha; the truth of the words had
come home to her many times, since she had taken in the two
friendless waifs. Dick and Huldah would have loved this woman too,
if she had allowed them to. She grew a little impatient of the long
complainings. "We don't get love back, if we don't give any," she
said at last.
"Who'd I got? Who'd want me to love them?" she demanded, peevishly.
"Why, the child, for one, and Dick, and that poor old horse, not to
speak of your husband."
Emma Smith was silent. It had never before entered her head that to
be loved one must love, that the way to win it is to think of others
first, and self last. She ceased her complaining, as she realised
for the first time that others besides herself had something to
complain of. She had always been one of those who are so full of
pity for themselves that they never have time to feel pity for
others.
By the time the meal was finished Huldah's mind was made up.
She must talk to Miss Rose about things. The matter seemed so
puzzling, so complicated, she could not sort out the right and the
wrong of it at all. It was all beyond her. Aunt Martha fell in with
the plan at once.
"Mrs. Smith can stay here with me till you come back," she said,
hospitably; and the visitor agreed eagerly.
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