Rhoda's Education by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

IN the course of a few days Marion produced her book, which turned out to be a fine edition of Robertson's history of Scotland, a very charming book, though strongly partisan, as is the case with most readable histories. Rhoda found it as interesting as a novel, and Marion was equally pleased.

"Lass, never mind the things," she would say on ironing days, when it was Rhoda's business to help her. "I can do your share as well as my own. Get your book and read."

Then Rhoda would get out Robertson and read aloud for hours while Marion, with marvellous dexterity, ironed and pleated and did two hours' work in the time of one. She listened to the clear, sounding periods with critical satisfaction, and made her odd remarks. She was a woman of fine mind; and though her schooling, as she called it, had not been long, she had always been a reader and a thinker.

"Eh, but that's grand! " said she, one day, as Rhoda closed the book. "He would have made a fine preacher, that doctor."

"He was a preacher," answered Rhoda. "I remember reading about him in a book Flora Fairchild lent me. It said he had a colleague, and they did not agree about church discipline, but for all that they never had a quarrel. I should like to see his sermons. I never read such an interesting history.

"But, Marion, Mr. Ferrand does not approve of young people reading history-I heard him read that out from the book he is writing; and I am sure he would not think well of my reading it. He said he would select some books suitable for me, and you ought to see them. Such silly little stories, all about wicked servant-girls that wore pink ribbons, and went straight to destruction in consequence, and about good labourers that were contented on ten shillings a week, and wicked labourers that wanted more. Do people really live on ten shillings a week over there, Marion?"

"Ay, do they, and far less than that," said Marion. "Ten shilling a week would be high wages in our parts, and it's called very good, even in England."

"But what do they live on?"

"Aweel, they don't see much of butcher's meat or tea and coffee, ye may guess. If they get kirnmilk-that's buttermilk-for their porridge, and butter for their potatoes, they ay think themselves well off. But come, lass, help me with the vegetables, or I shall be late with my dinner, and yon man's as petted as a bairn if his dinner is behindhand a minute. He behooves to please his own palate, let what will become of his daughter."

"He isn't stingy, either," said Rhoda.

"No, he is a good provider. It's only these nonsense maggots he gets in his head. Now, attend and see me make the pudding, and ye 'll know how yourself. Book-learning is a fine thing, but it's not all the learning worth knowing. It's fine to be a good cook, specially if you have a man to manage."

"Yon man," as Marion usually designated her employer, did not make his appearance in the kitchen so often, now that it was under the rule of Mrs. Campbell. In truth, he was a good deal afraid of the Scotch woman, having come off second best in more than one encounter. He would hardly have borne so much from any other servant, but Marion was, as I have said, a superlative cook, and Mr. Ferrand was fond of dinner company and liked to have a good and elegant table.

Rhoda, on the contrary, was no favourite with her employer. Mr. Ferrand had a great horror of feminine independence in any shape, and he felt quite sure that Rhoda had, as he said, "ideas of her own. " He strongly suspected that she continued her studies in spite of his disapproval, and it was a real annoyance to him that a servant-girl should love study for its own sake, while his daughter hated it.

He watched Rhoda closely, but as yet he had been unable to detect any flaw in her conduct. She was neat and systematic in her work, and always respectful in her manners, though there was sometimes a twinkle in her eye and a movement of the muscles round her mouth which annoyed Mr. Ferrand.

She was especially apt in waiting on the table, and never interrupted his disquisitions with the noise of clashing plates or dropped silver. She never asked to go out in the evening, except now and then to go to church, and on these occasions she was at home so promptly that it was plain she went nowhere else. There was no fault to be found. Mrs. Ferrand was satisfied, and Mr. Ferrand could not discover any pretext for quarrelling with Rhoda.

Rhoda, on her part, was not satisfied with herself; though, thanks to Marion, she had more leisure than ever for her books, and was making very fair progress with her studies. There was all the time a little rankling thorn in her conscience. She knew she was helping Isa to deceive her father, and no sophistry of her own or Marion's would make deceit seem right to Aunt Hannah's pupil.

Nor was this all: her Bible was neglected from evening to evening while she pored over her mathematics; her prayers were shortened for the same reason; and when she did pray, her devotions were cold and lifeless, or else a mere discomfort. Even her visits to "The Home" and to Miss Brown were few and far between.

"We don't see you very often now-a-days," said Miss Wilkins, one day.

"I am so busy," answered Rhoda. "I hardly go out at all."

"I thought you would have more time, now that there is a cook in the family," remarked Miss Brown.