Mrs. Kane was just
screwing up her eyes, trying to thread a needle, when Hetty dashed in
and flung her arms around her neck.
"Oh, Mrs. Kane, the pride has got so bad again; and I have been
quarrelling with Phyllis and wanting to run away."
"Run away!" said Mrs. Kane; "oh, no, dearie, never run away from your
post."
"What is my post?" said Hetty weeping; "I have no post. I am only a
charity girl and in everybody's way. Phyllis hints it to me in every way
she can, even when she does not say it outright. Oh, how can I have
patience to grow up? Why does it take so long to get old?"
Mrs. Kane sighed. "It doesn't take long to grow old, dear, once you are
fairly in the tracks of the years. But it does take a while to grow up.
And you must have patience, Hetty. There's nothing else for it but the
patience and meekness of God."
Hetty drew a long breath. All that was spiritual within her hung now on
Mrs. Kane's words. The patience of God was such a different thing from
the prudence of this world. That was the difference between Miss Davis
and Mrs. Kane.
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