Bessie had become, as her mother had noticed, much more thoughtful of late.  Her card, hung up in her room, kept always before her mind her resolution to “look to Jesus” for help to live to please Him.  And though she still often forgot and yielded to temptation, yet, on the whole, she was steadily advancing in that course in which all must be either going forward or backward.  Her mother noticed that this decided improvement dated from the day when she had brought home the card,—­a day which had not been without influence on herself,—­although, when worldly principles have been long suffered to hold undisputed sway, it is difficult at once to overcome old habits; and lost ground is not less hard to retrieve in spiritual than in earthly things.

Bessie was still diligently working at her “task,” when she saw Nancy Parker running up across the fields.

“Oh, Bessie,” she said breathlessly, “get ready and come right away.  My cousins have come to spend the day, and we’re going boating up the river, and then home to supper.  The rest are all waiting in the boat down there, and I ran up to get you.  So be quick!”

Bessie hesitated.  If she went with Nancy, a considerable portion of the work she had set herself to do would be left undone.  Besides, her mother had gone to Ashleigh, leaving her in charge; and Bessie was not at all sure that, had she been at home, she would approve of her joining the party.

To be sure, she could not be absolutely certain of her mother’s disapproval, and she could easily run down for Sam to come and stay with the children.  At the worst, she did not think her mother would be much displeased; and the thought of the pleasant row, and the merry party, and all the “fun” they would have, offered no small temptation.

“Quick, Bessie!” Nancy urged, impatient of her delay.

“I don’t think I can go, Nancy.  Mother’s out, and I’ve a lot of sewing to do.”

“Bother the sewing!  Your mother wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.  Mine lets me do exactly as I like.  Come and get ready;” and she pulled Bessie from her seat, and drew her, half-resisting, towards the house.

They went up-stairs together, Bessie feeling far from satisfied with herself for yielding where conscience told her she ought not to yield.

“My!” said Nancy, whose quick eyes had been glancing round the room, “what a grand ticket you’ve got hanging up there!  Where did you get it?”

Bessie’s eye turned to her motto, and she stood for a minute looking at it in silence.  Then, instead of replying to the question, she said, “Nancy, I cannot go; it wouldn’t be right.”

“Well, that’s a nice way to treat me!” said Nancy angrily.  “After my waiting so long, too.  Why, don’t you know your own mind?  Come, you can’t change now; I’m not going to be cheated, after all my trouble.”

“I’m very sorry, Nancy; but I oughtn’t to have said I would go at all.  Don’t wait any longer.  But I’ll go down to the boat with you.”