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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18332-8.txt b/18332-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23343d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/18332-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10284 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Harvest of Years, by Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Harvest of Years + +Author: Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +Release Date: May 6, 2006 [EBook #18332] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVEST OF YEARS *** + + + + +Produced by Stacy Brown, Jason Isbell, Afra Ullah and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE + +HARVEST OF YEARS + +BY + +_M.L.B. EWELL_ + + +NEW YORK +G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS +182 Fifth Avenue +1880 + + + + +Copyright by +G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS +1880 + + + + +TO MY FAMILY + +THIS RECITAL OF MY LIFE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. + + +Old friends and other days have risen about me as I have written, +recalling, through my pen, these treasured experiences; and the pictured +characters are to me as real as earthly hands, whose touch we feel. I +have written as the story runs, with no effort at adorning, and those +who love me best will not bring to it the cold criticisms that may come +from other readers. To illustrate the truth of "a little leaven's +leavening the whole lump" has been my purpose, and if this purpose can +be even partially achieved, I shall deem myself sufficiently rewarded. +To those whom in previous years I have met in the field of my mission, +whose heart-felt sympathy and interest became the tide which bore me on, +as from public platform (as well as in private ways) I have, for truth's +dear sake, been impelled to utterances, to these friends I may hope this +volume will not come as a stranger, but that through it I may receive, +as in the days gone by, the grasp of their friendly hands. + + M.L.B.E. + +New Haven, Conn., _June_, 1880. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I.--Emily Did It 1 + +II.--From Girlhood to Womanhood 5 + +III.--Changes 11 + +IV.--Our New Friend 18 + +V.--Louis Robert 31 + +VI.--A Question and a Problem 49 + +VII.--Wilmur Benton 60 + +VIII.--Fears and Hopes 71 + +IX.--The New Faith 84 + +X.--Matthias Jones 95 + +XI.--The Teaching of Hosea Ballou 109 + +XII.--A Remedy for Wrong-talking 123 + +XIII.--Perplexities 137 + +XIV.--Louis returns 150 + +XV.--Emily finds peace 164 + +XVI.--Mary Harris 177 + +XVII.--Precious Thoughts 210 + +XVIII.--Emily's Marriage 226 + +XIX.--Married Life 240 + +XX.--Life Pictures and Life Work 254 + +XXI.--John Jones 274 + +XXII.--Clara leaves us 290 + +XXIII.--Aunt Hildy's Legacy 317 + + + + +THE HARVEST OF YEARS + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +"EMILY DID IT." + + +Among my earliest recollections these three words have a place, coming +to my ears as the presages of a reprimand. I had made a frantic effort +to lift my baby-brother from his cradle, and had succeeded only in +upsetting baby, pillows and all, waking my mother from her little nap, +while brother Hal stood by and shouted, "Emily did it." I was only five +years of age at that eventful period, and was as indignant at the +scolding I received when trying to do a magnanimous act, take care of +baby and let poor, tired mother sleep, as I have been many times since, +when, unluckily, I had upset somebody's dish, and "Emily did it" has +rung its hateful sound in my ears. To say I was unlucky was not enough; +I was untimely, unwarranted and unwanted, I often felt, in early years +in everything I attempted, and the naturally quick temper I possessed +was only aggravated and tortured into more harassing activity, rendering +me on the whole, perhaps, not very amiable. Interesting I could not be, +since whatever I attempted I seemed fated to say or do something to hurt +somebody's feelings, and, mortified at my failures, I would draw myself +closer to myself, shrinking from others, and saying again and again, +"Emily, why _must_ you do it?" + +Introducing myself thus clouded to your sympathy, I cannot expect my +reader would be interested in a rehearsal of all my early trials. + +You can imagine how it must have been as I marched along from childhood +through girlhood into womanhood, while I still clung to my strange ways +and peculiar sayings; upsetting of inkstands at school, mud tracking +over the carpet in the "best room" at home, unconscious betrayal of +mischief plans, etc., etc., made up the full catalogue of my days and +their experiences, and although I did have a few warm friends, I could +not be as other girls were, generally happy and beloved. + +Mother was the only real friend I had; it seemed to me, as I grew older, +she learned to know that I was too often blamed, where at heart I was +wholly blameless, and when sometimes she stroked my hair, and said, "My +dear child, how unlucky you are," I felt that I could do anything for +her, and she never, to my remembrance, said "Emily did it." + +From my father I often heard it. Hal rarely, if ever, said anything +else, and if I did sometimes darn his stockings a little too thick, it +was not such a heinous crime. He was handsome, and I was as proud of his +face as I was ashamed of my own; I know now that my features were not so +bad, but my spirit never shone through them, while Hal carried every +thought right in his face. My face also might have looked attractive if +I had only been understood, but I blame no one for that, when I was +covered even as a "leopard with spots," indicating everything but the +blessed thoughts I sometimes had and the better part of my nature. The +interval of years between my fifth and sixteenth birthdays was too full +of recurring mishaps of every kind to leave within my memory distinct +traces of the little joys that sometimes crept in upon me. I number them +all when I recall the face of my more than blessed mother and the mild +eyes of Mary Snow, who was kinder and nearer to me than the others of my +school-mates. + +Hal grew daily more of a torment, and being five years my senior, +"bossed" me about to his satisfaction, except at such times as I grew +too vexed with him to restrain my anger, and turning upon him would pour +volleys of wrath upon his head. On these occasions he seemed really +afraid of me, and, for a time after, I would experience a little peace. +Learning from experience that keeping my thoughts to myself was the best +means of quiet, I grew, after leaving school, less inclined to associate +with anyone except sweet Mary Snow. One blessed consciousness grew daily +on me, and that was that I came nearer my mother's heart, and as I was +never lazy, I shared many of her joys and trials and learned to keep my +rebellious nature almost wholly in check. Father was a good man, but +unfortunate in business affairs, and the first time he undertook to +carry out an enterprise of his own, he pulled everything over on to his +head--just as I did the baby. This was of course a misfortune of which +his wife had her share, but she never complained. The lines about her +eyes grew darker, and she ceased to sing at her work as before, and I +knew, for she told me, that in the years that followed, I grew so close +to her, I became a great help to her and really shared her burdens. My +little brother, Ben, varied Hal's "Emily did it," and with him "Emily +will do it" was a perfect maxim. Kites I made without number, and gave +my spare time to running through the meadows with him to help him fly +them and to the making of his little wheelbarrows, and I loved him +dearly. I seemed now to be less unlucky, and at home, at least, +contented, but society had no charms for me and I had none for society; +consequently we could happily agree to let each other alone, but, +without repining, I had still sometimes, oh! such longings--for +something, I knew not what. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD. + + +The old adage of a poor beginning makes a good ending, may have been +true in my case; certain it is that my sorest mishaps, or those I had +least strength to bear, came between my fifth and sixteenth birthdays. +After this came the happy period in which I was helpmeet to my mother, +and the gaining of an almost complete victory over my temper, even when +teased by Hal, who at that time was developing rapidly into manhood and +was growing very handsome. + +I was not changed outwardly, unless my smile was more bright and +frequent, as became my feelings, and my eyes, I know, shot fewer dark +glances at those around me when mishaps, although less frequent, came +sometimes to me. My good angel was with me oftener then, I thought, and +as I often told mother, it seemed to me I had daily a two-fold growth, +meaning that there was the growing consciousness of a nature pulsating +as a life within my heart that seemed like a strong full tide constantly +bearing me up. I scarcely understood it then, but now I know I had, as +every one has, a dual nature, one side of which had never been allowed +to appear above its earthly covering. + +My daily trials, coming always from luckless mistakes of my own, were +equal in their effect to the killing of my blossoms, for if any dared to +show their heads an untimely word or deed would bring a reproach--if +only in the three words, "Emily did it"--and this reproach was like the +stamping of feet on violet buds, breaking, crushing and robbing them of +their sweet promise. The life then must go back into the roots and a +long time elapse ere they could again burst forth; so all my better +nature, with its higher thoughts longing to develop, was forced down and +back, and now, in the enjoyment of more favorable environment, I was +beginning to realize the fruitful life which daily grew upon me, and +with it came strength of mind and purpose and an imagery of thought that +filled my soul to a delicious fullness. + +What a power those conditions were to me! I drank joy in everything. My +mother's step was as music, and her teachings even in household affairs +a blessing to my spirit. I remember how one day in September I was +dishing soup for dinner, the thought--suppose that she dies--came +rushing over me like a cold wave, and I screamed aloud; dropping my +soup-dish and all, and frightening poor mother almost out of her senses. + +"Have you scalded yourself, dear?" she cried, running toward me, and I +was nearly faint as I replied: + +"Only a thought. I am so sorry about the soup, but it was a terrible +thought," and then I told her. + +No word of chiding came from her lips. I thought I saw tears in her eyes +as she said: "I should not like to leave you, dear. We are very happy +here together," and I know my eyes were moist as I thought, "Emily did +it," but her mother understands her. + +How necessary all those days of feeling, full and deep, combined with +the details of practical life were to me, and although I shall never +date pleasant memories back to my earlier years, still if I had been too +carefully handled and nursed I never could have enjoyed those days so +much. + +Nearly twenty-four months of uninterrupted work and enjoyment passed +over me--and here is a thought from that first experience in soul +growth; I cannot ever believe that people will enjoy themselves lazily +in heaven more than here; I have another, only a vague idea of how it +will be, but I cannot think of being idle there--when a little change +appeared, only to usher in what proved to be a greater one, and the days +of the June month in which the first came I shall never forget. It was +when Hal came to me, hemming and thinking under my favorite tree in the +old orchard, while beside me lay my scrap-book in which I from time to +time jotted thoughts as they came to me. Hal sat down beside me and said +at once: + +"I'm going to try it, Emily." I dropped hemming and thinking together, +and said: + +"Try what?" + +"Try my luck." + +I was only bewildered by his answer, and he continued: + +"Emily, I'm determined to carry out the desires of my life, and now I am +intent on a Western city as the place best calculated to inspire me with +the courage and strength I need to carry out my aims and purposes, and +I thought I'd tell you now that I feel decided, and you will tell mother +for me; will you?" + +Never before in my life had I felt Hal so near to me. His manner toward +me had changed, of course, as he grew into manhood, and "Emily, will you +sew on this button?" or "Emily, are my stockings ready?" were given in +place of "Emily did it," but now, as he looked full in my face, and even +passed his arm about me with true brotherly affection, he seemed so +near, that the hot tears chased each other down my cheeks, and I sat +speechless with the feelings that overcame me. I thought of the handsome +face--always handsome in whatever mood--opposite me at the table, of the +manly form and dignified carriage I had watched with pride, and when I +could speak, I said, + +"Hal I cannot let you go." Hal was brave, but I knew he felt what I +said, for his looks spoke volumes as he said, + +"Shall you miss me so much?" + +"Oh! Hal," I cried, "we love you, mother and I, I never knew how much +till now." His head dropped a moment, and then he suddenly said, + +"You are the best sister a fellow ever had," and swallowing something +that rose in his throat, marched off through the fields directly away +from the house. I gathered up my work and scrap book, went in and +prepared the supper, showing outwardly no emotion, but with my heart +throbbing as if it would tell the secret on which I pondered, while I +wondered how I should tell my mother. + +Hal came in late to supper. I rushed from the table when I heard his +footsteps, and sought my room until I heard him coming up to his room, +when I went down stairs and busied myself with my work as usual. + +I washed the milk pans three or four times over that night, and was +about carrying them into the "best room," when mother said, + +"Why, Emily, we keep our milk pans in the buttery." + +"Oh!" I said, turning suddenly and letting my pans fall and scatter. And +when I picked them up and collected my senses, I thought, "I cannot tell +mother to-night after all, Hal will stay with us." When things were at +last in their places, I sauntered out through the lane in the beautiful +moonlight, and coming back met Hal who took my hand in his and +whispered, + +"Tell mother to-morrow, please, I want to go away next month and some +things are necessary to be done." + +"Have you told father yet?" + +"No, but he will not care." + +"Father _will_ care," I replied, "but you know since his misfortune, and +his conclusion that he cannot do anything but carry on the farm, he +seems to have lost his sprightly step and his cheery ways of old." + +"Well, Emily," said Hal, "I am no help to him on the farm, and could not +be if I tried, and the work I am doing now is anything but satisfying to +me." + +Then the thought occurred to me, I had no idea of what the boy desired +to accomplish, and the question what would you do Hal? was answered in +this wise-- + +"Wait till I've been away six months." + +"To build mud houses and fill them with mud people, was your favorite +amusement when you were a boy, I remember," I said, and he gave me such +a queer look that I started with the impression that came with it, but +said no more, and we walked along and went into the house together. + +The next day after dinner, when we were cleared up and alone in quiet, I +told mother. She was of course covered with surprise, but her words came +in wisdom and she said: + +"I can imagine what Halbert desires to do, and although the way looks +anything but clear, still I know I can trust him anywhere. He is a +blessed son and brother, Emily, and I doubt not I am selfish to feel +saddened by the thought of his leaving home (and a tear drop fell as she +spoke). I only fear he may be sick. His lungs are not very strong." + +"What will father say?" I asked. + +"Father's heart will miss him but he will not seek to stay an endeavor +of his earnest, ambitious boy." + +So my trial was not so hard as I had expected, and father was just as +wise as mother, and I alone rebellious concerning his departure. I cried +night and day whenever I could get a moment to cry in, and I could not +help it. How perverse I felt, although doing all I could to forward his +departure, which was daily coming nearer, and when the 4th of July came +and with it the gala day which the entire country about us enjoyed, I +could not and did not go to the pic-nic, or the speech ground, and I +succeeded in making all at home nearly as unhappy as myself. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +CHANGES. + + +Some people believe in predestination (or "fore-ordering," as Aunt Ruth +used to call it), and some do not. I never knew what I believed about +events and their happening, but it was certainly true I learned to know +that my efforts to hurry or retard anything were in one sense entirely +futile--that is, when I did not work in unison with my surroundings, and +made haste only when impelled. If I could have felt thus concerning +Hal's departure, I should have been of more service to him, and saved +myself from hearing "Oh, Emily, don't," falling as an entreaty from his +lips, at sight of my swelled eyes and woeful countenance. I think he was +heartily glad of the innovation made in our family circle, which, of +itself, was as wonderful to me as the story of Aladdin's Lamp to the +mind of a child. It happened so strangely too. Before I tell you of this +event I must explain that our family circle consisted of father, mother, +Halbert, Ben and myself. It was half past six in the evening of July 8, +18--, and we had just finished supper, when a loud knock was heard at +the back door, and opening it we received a letter from the hands of a +neighbor, who came over from the post-office and kindly brought our mail +with him. We received a good many letters for farming people, and I had +kept up a perfect fire of correspondence with Mary Snow ever since she +went to the home of her uncle, who lived some twenty miles distant, but +this appeared to be a double letter, and mother broke the seal, while we +all listened to her as she read it. It is not necessary to quote the +whole of it, but the gist of the matter was this: A distant cousin of +father's who had never seen any of us, nor any member of the family to +which her mother and my father belonged, had settled in the city of +----, about thirty miles from our little village. Her husband dying +shortly afterward, she was left a widow with one child, a son. In some +unaccountable way she had heard of father, and she now wrote telling us +that she proposed to come to see us the very next day, only two days +before Hal was to leave us. She went on to say that she hoped her visit +would not be an intrusion, but she wanted to see us, and if we could +only accommodate her during the summer she would be so glad to stay, and +would be willing to remunerate us doubly. Mother said simply, "Well, she +must come." Father looked at her and said nothing, while I flew at the +supper dishes attacking them so ferociously that I should have broken +them all, I guess, had not mother said gently, + +"Let me wash them, Emily, your hands tremble so." Then I tried to +exorcise the demon within, and I said: + +"How can we have a stranger here, putting on airs, and Hal going away, +and our home probably too homely for her. I know she never washed her +hands in a blue wash-bowl in the world, much less in a pewter basin such +as we use. She'll want everything we haven't got, and I shall tip +everything over, and be as awkward as--oh, dear! Mother, how I do wish I +could be ground over and put in good shape before to-morrow night." I +never saw my mother laugh so heartily in my life; she laughed till I was +fairly frightened and thought she had a hysteric fit, and when she could +speak, said: + +"Emily, don't borrow trouble, it may make Hal's departure easier for us. +It must be right for her to come, else it would not have happened. You +are growing so like a careful woman, I doubt not you will be the very +one to please her." + +Those words were a sort of strengthening cordial, and before I went to +sleep I had firmly determined to receive my cousin as I would one of my +neighbors, and not allow my spirit to chafe itself against the wall of +conditions, whatever they might be. + +So when the stage came over the hill, and round the turn in the road +leading to our house, I stood quietly with mother in the doorway waiting +to give the strange guest welcome in our midst. I was the first to take +her hand, for the blundering stage-driver nearly let her fall to the +ground, her foot missing the step as she clambered over the side of the +old stage. She gave me such a warm smile of recognition, and a moment +after turned to us all and said, "My name is Clara Estelle Desmonde, +call me Clara,"--and with hearty hand-shaking passed into the house as +one of us. Her hat and traveling mantle laid aside, she was soon seated +at the table with us, and chatting merrily, praising every dish before +her, and since her appetite did justice to her words, we did not feel +her praise as flattery. I had made some of my snow cake, and it was the +best, I think, I ever made. Mother had cream biscuit, blackberry jelly, +some cold fowl, and, to tempt the appetite of our city visitor, a few of +the old speckled hen's finest and freshest eggs, dropped on toast. She +did not slight any of our cooking, and my cake was particularly praised. +When mother told her I made it, the little lady looked at me so brightly +as she said, "You must keep plenty of it on hand as long as I stay, I am +especially fond of cake and pie," and although I well knew her dainty +fingers had never been immersed in pie-crust, still she had made herself +acquainted with the _modus operandi_ of various culinary productions and +talked as easily with us about them as if she were a real cook. She +seemed from the first to take a great liking to Hal, and, seated in our +family circle, this first night of our acquaintance, expressed great +regret at his early departure, and remarked several times during the +evening, that it would have been so nice if Halbert and her son Louis +Robert could have been companions here in "Cosy Nook," as she called our +house. It seemed anything but a nook to me, situated as it was on high +ground, while about us on either side, lay the seventy-five acres which +was my father's inheritance, when he attained his majority; but, to her, +this living aside from the dusty streets and exciting novelties of the +city, was, I suppose, like being deposited in a little quiet nook. When +we said "good night," all of us were of one mind regarding our new-found +friend. I was perfectly at ease that first evening, and felt no +inclination to make an unlucky speech until the next day, which was +Sunday, came, and with it the question, "Are you going to church?" It +was always our custom to go to the village church each Sabbath, and I +enjoyed the sermons of Mr. Davis, then our minister, very much. He was a +man of broad soul and genial spirit, and very generally liked. His +sermons were never a re-hash but were quickened and brightened by new +ideas originally expressed. Now, however, when this little lady asked, +"Are you going to church?" I did not think at all of a good sermon, but +of the shabbiness of my best bonnet, and I bit my tongue to check the +speech which rose to my lips--"We generally go, but I'd rather not go +with you"--while mother answered, + +"Yes, Mrs. Desmonde" ("Clara, if you please," the lady interposed), "we +always go; would you like to go with us?" + +"Oh, yes, thank you, it is a delightful day." + +I kept thinking about those shabby ribbons and wondering if I could not +cover them up with my brown veil, and after breakfast was over, I +actually did re-make an old lemon-colored bow to adorn myself with. I +felt shabby enough, however, when we were all ready to start and my poor +cotton gloves came in contact with the delicate kids of our guest, when +she grasped my hand to say, "You cannot know, Emily dear, how happy I +am." + +Somehow she made me forget all about how I looked, but the sermon that +day was all lost. My eyes divided their light between herself and +Halbert, and my heart kept thumping heavily, "Hal goes away to-morrow." +I think Hal knew my thoughts, for he sat next to me in our pew, and once +when tears were in my eyes, tears which came with thoughts of his +departure, he took my hand in his and held it firmly, as if to say, "I +shall come back, Emily, don't feel badly." I looked him the grateful +recognition my heart felt, and I crowded back the tears that were ready +to fall, and when we drove home, our little lady chatting all the way, I +was happier than before I went. + +Monday morning came and with it Hal's departure. We were up betimes. I +think Hal slept little, and I heard the old clock strike nearly every +hour, and was down stairs before either mother or father were up. He was +to take the stage at half-past eight, and ride to the nearest station, +and our breakfast was ready at half-past six. It was a sad breakfast, +and though mother tried hard to keep up a conversation on different +topics, it was useless. Tears would fill our eyes, and brother Ben, +though at that time only about thirteen, was forced to leave his +breakfast untasted, and, rising hastily, to take himself out of Hal's +sight; but the stage came rumbling down the road, and almost ere we knew +it, our good-byes were said, and Hal was waving his handkerchief from +his high seat beside the driver, from whence he could see the old home +for a long distance. + +Everything, so far as his plans were concerned, worked favorably, and a +chance inquiry, resulted in a good offer as book-keeping clerk in a +wholesale warehouse in Chicago. Chicago was in her youth then. Many +changes have passed over the city of the West since those days, but her +mercantile houses were never in a more flourishing condition than during +Hal's stay there. Father had informed himself regarding the man with +whom he was to be connected, and was well satisfied of his integrity, +ability, etc. + +When Hal was fairly gone I went to my room and cried disconsolately, and +groaned aloud, and did everything but faint, and I might have +accomplished that feat if Clara (for she insisted on that appellation) +had not come in upon me, resolved to bring about different conditions. +She succeeded at last, and the afternoon found us quietly sitting +together in our middle room apparently enjoying ourselves, though I did +not forget Hal was gone, and a cloud of woe overspread my mental +horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +OUR NEW FRIEND. + + +We could not object to the stay of our cousin, and she planned to remain +indefinitely. I always smiled at the relationship, and I don't know +exactly how near it was, but this I believe was it--father's mother and +Mrs. Desmonde's grandmother were cousins; that brought me, you see, into +very near kinship. She laughed at it herself, but, nevertheless, I was +"her dear cousin Emily" always. "Little Lady" was my name for her, but +she forced me call her "Clara." Her mother, it seemed, had married a +gentleman of rank and fortune of French descent, and although she told +me she was the picture of her mother, the graceful ways of which she was +possessed, her natural urbanity and politeness, together with her +fascinating word-emphasis accompanied with so many gestures, were all +decidedly French, "Little lady" just expressed it. She was, when she +came to our home, only thirty-seven years of age, and looked not more +than twenty. Her complexion was that of a perfect blonde; her hair was +light and wavy, clear to the parting; she had a luxuriant mass of it, +and coiled it about her shapely head, fastening it with a beautifully +carved shell comb. Her eyes were very dark for blue, large and +expressive; she had teeth like pearls, and a mouth, whose tender +outlines were a study for a painter. She seemed to me a living, +breathing picture, and I almost coveted the grace which was so natural +to her, and hated the contrast presented by our two faces. She called my +complexion pure olive, and toyed with "my night-black hair" (her own +expression), sometimes winding it about her fingers as if to coax it to +curl, and then again braiding it wide with many strands, and doing it up +in a fashion unusual with me. She was a little below the medium size, I, +a little above, and though only turned nineteen, I know I looked much +older than she. We were fast friends, and I could do her bidding ever +and always, for her word was a friendly law, and I am sure no family +ever had so charming a boarder. She bought gingham, and made dresses +exactly alike for herself and me, made some long house-aprons, as she +called them, and would never consent to sit down by herself but helped +about the house daily until all the work was done, then changed her +dress when I changed mine, and kept herself close, to us, body and +soul--for she seemed in one sense our ward, in another our help, making +her doubly dear, and I many times blessed the providence that brought +her to us just as we were losing Hal. She was sensitive, but never +morbidly so, apparently anxious to have every one about her happy, and I +never saw the airs that I expected her to assume, for she was ever +smiling and happy in her manner. + +As the days passed over us, we took long walks in the woods together, +and she unfolded to me leaf by leaf of her life history. + +The deep love she had borne her husband remained unchanged--and nightly, +with perfect devotion, she looked upon and pressed to her lips his +miniature, which was fastened to a massive chain hanging on her neck; +never in sight, but hidden from other eyes, as if too sacred for their +gaze. Her husband was of French parentage, but had, when at the early +age of sixteen she married him, been alone in this country. He was +twenty years older than herself, and her parents passing away soon after +her marriage, he had been husband, mother and father. Her son, Louis +Robert, eighteen years of age, was named for him, and both she and her +son had fortunes in their own right. It seemed that Mr. Desmonde had an +illness lasting for months, and knowing it must prove fatal, had +arranged every thing perfectly for his departure. It was his wish that +Louis Robert should, if agreeable to his mind, pursue a course of study, +to prepare him for professional work of some kind. + +In a letter written on his death-bed he impressed upon his son the +necessity of dealing honestly with his fellow-men, and exhorted him to +endeavor to be always ready, as opportunities presented themselves for +small charities and kindnesses; these, as his father thought, are often +more praiseworthy than donations to public objects, and the giving of +alms to be seen of men, as many wealthy people do. + +In accordance with these last wishes, Louis was placed under the care of +a worthy man, who was principal of a seminary a little distance from the +city where their home was. Clara desired him to come to us about the +twentieth of August and stay two weeks, and also urged me to go to her +home with her and meet him, then returning together. + +I hardly wanted to do so, but her sweet urgency persuaded me, and I +consented, reflecting mournfully over those shabby ribbons and that +lemon-colored bow. If there is anything like help in the world that I +receive most gratefully, it is the prompt recognition of a need, and +unobtrusive aid for it. A short time before the day appointed for us to +go to the city, our Clara came down stairs dressed in a beautiful dark +shade of blue Foulard silk, with a lace ruff about her throat, fastened +with a lemon-colored bow. + +The blood rushed with a full tide to my face when my eyes fell upon her +as she entered. Simple, I presume, to those accustomed to elegant +costume would her attire have seemed, but to me, as yet uninitiated in +the mysteries of society, dress, etc., she was the perfection of +loveliness, and the impression made upon me was an indelible one; I +never saw anything half so lovely and perfect as she at that moment +appeared to me. + +It was an unusual thing too for her to be dressed so nicely for an +afternoon at home. She had, I knew, many beautiful dresses, and had told +me sometimes of the elaborate toilets of the city, but had heretofore +donned as an afternoon dress the gray mohair she wore when she came, and +a light blue scarf over her shoulders was the only color she wore about +her. The weather was warm but the heat was never oppressive to her--her +blood, she said, had never felt as it were really warm since the night +her husband died. On this particular afternoon, we were talking +principally of Hal, and my eyes unconsciously riveted their gaze on the +folds of her dress hanging so gracefully about her, and trailing softly +on the carpet if moved. + +I wondered too a little at it, for I noticed it to be quite long in +front as well as behind. The afternoon was far spent, and it was nearly +time for Ben and father to come in to supper. Before she made any +allusion to her extra toilette, extra for our little home, and nodding +at me as I raised my eyes from the soft blue folds to meet the light of +the blue eyes above them, she said: + +"How does my dress please Mademoiselle Emily?" + +"Oh!" I replied, "I never saw so beautiful a dress." She smiled one of +her bright quick smiles as if some fancy struck her, and said, laying +her hand over the bow at her heart, + +"And this too?" + +"Both are beautiful in my eyes," I said, "and so suited to you Clara." + +After supper we were going to take a walk, and Clara went to her room, +doffed the blue Foulard and came down in the grey mohair. We had a +beautiful walk out from under the shade of the o'erarching chestnut +trees before our door, along the grassy highway leading to the upper +meadow, over the smooth newly-cut field on to the edge of the birch +woods beyond. There we rested quiet, coming back when the moon rose over +the hills and the stars hung out like lanterns on our track. + +We talked. Clara had her seasons of soul-talk as she called it, and that +night she read me a full page of her inner self the purport of which I +shall never forget. The more she revealed to me of herself the more I +loved her, and her words suggested thoughts that filled my +soul--thoughts which, in depths within myself I had never dreamed of, +found and swept a string that ere long broke its sweet harmonies on my +spirit. I seemed, all at once, to develop in spiritual stature and to +have become complex to myself. + +When we said "good night" to the folks below and went up stairs +together, Clara caught my hand and said, + +"Come, mademoiselle, come to my room, please," and of course I went, +making a mock courtesy as if I were a queen, and she my maid. She +unpinned my linen collar and unhooked my dress, while I sat wonder +struck, saying nothing until I felt the fleecy blue silk being thrown +over my shoulders, when I essayed to articulate something. But when my +head emerged from the dress, she playfully covered my mouth with her +hand, and proceeded to fasten the dress which seemed just to fit; then +came the delicate lace and the lemon bow. Taking my hand she led me to +the glass, surveyed me from head to foot, clapped her hands like a glad +child, and cried, + +"A perfect fit, but I was afraid." + +"Why, Clara," I said, "how, what?" + +"Never, never mind, you like it, I did it myself, and I wore it first +only to see how it struck you. 'Tis yours, my dear, go and put it away." + +I did not say thank you even, for she would not let me. I just kissed +her and went to my room, to my little room with its high-post bedstead, +three wooden chairs and shabby hair-cloth trunk, and dressed in that +beautiful blue dress with that new silk bow. I could not help taking the +old one out of the drawer to contrast it with the new, and although it +did look soiled and shabby, I thought I was almost wicked to have felt +so troubled at my little adornments, and then resolved to keep that +little old faded lemon ribbon as long as I should live, and I have it +now. + +Carefully I unpinned that new bow, laying it, with the first real lace +collars I had ever owned, in a mahogany box, as tenderly as though they +were pearls, and hung the blue Foulard in my closet between my best +much-worn alpaca and my afternoon gingham. + +That night I dreamed that when father went to feed the chickens in the +barn yard, a beautiful bird with silky wings of blue fluttered down +among them to be fed. How impressible my artless brain! As great an +event was this to me, as the inauguration of our highest potentate to +the people. + +Next morning I opened the closet door before dressing, and looked at the +new dress. The more I thought about it the more I wondered when or where +I should ever wear it, and not until a traveling suit, the fac-simile of +Clara's, was dropped upon me did I realize how the blue Foulard was +fitted to my shoulders. In her own sweet way she told me, that though we +were to remain only a few days at her home in the city, yet her friends +would surely call, and I must take the Foulard to wear in the +afternoons. Dear little soul, how tender she was of everybody's +feelings, and with what true womanly tact she turned, as far as +possible, every one into a pleasant path! Quick to notice needs, she +always applied her gifts with the greatest grace and tact, and without +making any one feel under obligation to her. + +The morning of August thirteenth dawned upon us not altogether smiling, +since the sky looked as if inclined to weep. We started, however, on our +intended journey, and more than once the old stage-driver looked around +to catch a glimpse of my darling friend, who was quite a wonderment to +the country folk. Inaccurate rumors of Clara and her fortune had been +talked about among them--yet none knew just how it all was, except our +family, and we would betray no secrets that she wished kept. I hardly +recognized myself when at last we arrived at our journey's end, and I +was in Clara's home. Never before had I seen myself reflected in a long +pier-glass, and never on earth did I seem so homely; my hands were too +large and awkward, and I sat so uncomfortably on the luxurious chairs. + +Clara noticed my discomfort and kept me changing from one position to +another, until I was so vexed with myself I insisted on sitting in a +corner and persuaded Clara that my head ached. The compassionate soul +believed it and was bathing my temples, when a light step aroused us +both, and a moment later she was in the arms of her beloved son, whom +she proudly introduced to me. + +I was surprised at his appearance--I thought him a boy, and so he was in +years, but if Clara had not told me his age, I should have guessed him +to be twenty-five. He had large dark eyes, a glorious head, perfect in +its shape, an intellectual forehead, and the most finely chiselled +mouth, most expressive of all his feelings; his lips parted in such +loving admiration of his mother and closed so lovingly upon her own. +After a profound bow to myself and a hearty grasp of the hand, he drew +her to the crimson cushions of a tête-à-tête standing near, and passing +his arm around her held her closely to him, as if afraid he would lose +her. I envied her, and any heart might well envy the passionate devotion +of a son like Louis Robert Desmonde. + +I wanted to leave them to themselves, but as I could not do this, I +covered my head, which really ached now, with my hands, and tried hard +not to listen to their audible conversation, but from that time I +appreciated what was meant by the manly love of this son, differing so +widely from anything I had ever before known. Like his mother, he had +great tact, and suited himself exactly to conditions and persons. + +I moved as in a dream. Everything that wealth could lavish on a home was +here. I occupied Clara's own room with her, and it seemed at night as if +I lay in a fairy chamber; there were silken draperies of delicate blue, +a soft velvety carpet whose ground was the same beautiful blue, covered +with vines like veins traced through it, and massive furniture with +antique carving, and everything in such exquisite taste, even to the +decorated toilette set on the bureau. Everything I thought was in +perfect correspondence except the face on my lace-fringed pillow. I +seemed so sadly out of place. I wondered if Clara was really contented +with her humbly-furnished room at our house. Callers came as she had +predicted, and it was all in vain my trying to keep out of the sight of +those "_city people_." Insisting on my presence, and knowing well I +should escape to our room if left by myself, Louis was authorized to +guard me, and I had no chance of escape; I felt myself an intruder upon +his time, every moment until during the last evenings of my stay, when +in the lighted parlors quite a happy company gathered. I then had an +opportunity of seeing a little of his thought, running as an +undercurrent to his nature. Clara had been singing with such sweetness +of expression and pathetic emphasis, that my eyes were filled with tears +of emotion. Miss Lear, a young lady friend, followed her, and sang with +such a shrill voice, such unprecedented flying about among the octaves, +that it shocked me through every nerve, and I trembled visibly and +uttered an involuntary exclamation of impatience. Louis caught my hand, +and the moment she ended, whispered: + +"Are you frightened?" + +"Oh!" I said, "she is your guest, but where is her soul?" + +"In heaven awaiting her, I suspect," he replied, "but, Miss Emily, she +is a fair type of a society woman. I have just been thinking that +to-morrow at sunset I hope to be among the birds and beneath the sky of +your native town; one can breathe there; I am glad to go." + +"I don't want you to go," I said, impetuously (poor Emily did it). + +He turned his full dark eyes upon me, and I felt the tide that flooded +cheek and brow with crimson. + +"Explain to me, Miss Emily," he said, "you love to keep my mother +there." + +"I did not mean to say it, Louis, but it is true." + +"Why true?" + +"I am so sorry--" + +My dilemma was a queer one; I had to explain, and the tears that +gathered when his mother sang, came back as I described our plain home. + +"I love my home, it is good enough for me, I could not exchange it even +with you, but you will think us rude, uncultivated people, I fear; you +will find no attraction there; everything is as homely there as I am +myself!" + +And I never can forget how his bright, dark eyes grew humid with +sympathy, to be covered with the sunlight of his smile at the earnest +honesty of my remarks, especially the last one. + +"Ah! Miss Emily, you know not your friend; I am more anxious than ever +to go, and care not if you are sorry." + +"I am glad now of my unexpected speech," I replied, "and feel as if I +had really been to the confessional; your mother is so sensitive, I +could not tell her, and I have kept this thought constantly before me, +'He will not stay if he goes, and I am sure he cannot eat rye bread and +butter.'" + +"You will see, Miss Emily, how I shall eat it, but we are to be +interrupted; here comes the soulless girl that shocked you so; mother is +with her; excuse me for a moment," and he made his way to a corner of +the parlors, seating himself alone as if in reverie. + +"Mademoiselle Emily, my friend, Miss Lear, desires an introduction to +you; be seated, Miss Lear," and Clara took the chair on the other side; +the disappointment of Miss Lear, in not finding Louis, was visible, even +to my unpractised eye, and her tender enquiries of his mother regarding +his health etc., were amusing. + +I saw her furtive glances at my plain toilette, and knew she thought me +a lowly wild flower on life's great meadow, a dandelion, unnecessary to +be included in a fashionable nosegay, and while these thoughts were +passing through my mind, Clara left us to ourselves, and, feeling in +duty bound to say something to me, she began: + +"Mrs. Desmonde tells me your house is in the country; how sublime the +country is! You see sunrises and sunsets, do you not?" + +"I hope I do," I replied. "There is great pleasure in watching nature." + +"Oh! the country is so sublime, don't you think so?" + +"Well that depends on your ideas of the sublime; I do not imagine +milking cows and butter-making would correspond with the general ideas +of sublimity." + +"Oh!" and she tossed her befrizzled head in lofty disdain, "that is +perfectly horrid, I cannot see how human beings endure such things; oh! +dear, what a poor hand I should be at living under such circumstances." + +"You would perhaps enjoy the general housework more, leaving the problem +of the dairy to another." + +"Housework?--I--ah! I see you are unlearned--beg your pardon--in society +ways. Do my hands betray symptoms of housework?" and she laughed +ironically. + +At this moment Louis came to take the seat his mother had left, and +heard of course my reply to Miss Lear's last remark. + +"Yes, I know I am verdant in the extreme, and must plead guilty also to +the charge of milking, churning and housework; I take, however, some +pride in trying to do all these things well, and I believe the most +fastidious can partake of the creamy butter rolls, we make at home." + +"Bravo," exclaimed Louis, "pray tell me what elicited Miss Emily's +speech?" + +"We were talking of the country," I replied, growing bold; "Miss Lear +thinks the country is sublime, but the butter-making, etc., horrid." + +"Well," said Miss Lear, "it may be my ideas are rather crude, but really +I cannot imagine I could ever make butter! Do you think I could, Mr. +Desmonde?" leaning forward to catch Louis' eye, and plying her flashy +fan with renewed energy and great care to show the ring of emeralds and +diamonds that glistened on her right fore-finger. + +"I cannot say, Miss Lear, I am going up to find out the ways and expect +to be Miss Emily's assistant. I imagine it takes brain to do farm work." + +Miss Lear waited to rally a little and said only, "Complimentary in the +extreme! Pray tell me the hour, I think my carriage must be here;" then +the fashion-plate shook hands with us both and departed. + +I felt almost ashamed, and repeated verbatim to Louis our conversation; +he laughed, and, patting my shoulder, said: + +"You spoke quite rightly, she was impertinent, pardon her ignorant +vanity." + +Then I stood with Louis and Clara in the centre of the parlors and +received the adieux of their friends. Louis carried his mother in his +arms up stairs and soon dreams carried me home to green fields and +butter-making. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +LOUIS ROBERT. + + +Gloriously beautiful was the morning of August twenty-first. We were up +early, for the old stage would not wait for us, and we had much to do +just at the last moment. I say we, for I tried to do all that was +possible to assist Clara in packing the two large trunks we were to +take. One thing puzzled me. I had heard Clara say so many times to +Louis, who went over the house with her during the early part of each +day, "Now leave everything in shape to be taken at any moment." And this +last morning all the chairs were covered, and Louis worked with old Jim, +time-honored help, to accomplish it all. I had a secret fear that they +were planning to go away to seek another home somewhere, and it troubled +me. I wondered the more because Clara said nothing to me, and she was +naturally so ingenuous and apt to tell me her little plans freely. It +seemed to take less time than it takes to write it ere we were landed at +the door of my home, and found father and mother waiting to welcome us. +There was a look of surprise on the faces of my parents as Louis +descended from the stage and turned so gallantly to his little mother, +as he often called her. He was not the boy they expected to see, but a +man to all appearance, tall and handsome, and the embodiment of a +politeness which is founded, as I believe, on a true respect for the +opinions and conditions of others. I felt gladly proud of our supper +table that night, and I knew Louis looked in vain for rye bread. He did +ample justice to our creamy butter, however, and after supper remarked +to me that Miss Lear might like a few pounds of such. + +Days passed happily along, and the two weeks allotted for Louis' stay +came nearly to a close. I dreaded to have the last day appear. Like his +mother, he had dropped into his own appropriate niche, and came into our +family only as another ray of the sunshine that brightened our home. I +had Halbert in my mind much of the time, and talked of him to Louis +until he said he felt well acquainted with him, and looked forward to +meeting him as one looks to some happiness in store. + +Louis was original in his expressions and different from all others of +his age. One evening when we were talking of Hal, as we sat on the old +doorstone in the moonlight, he said: + +"I have something to do for your brother, Miss Emily, I cannot tell you +how, but we shall see, we shall never lose sight of each other, we are +always to be friends, Miss Emily." + +And the light of his dark eyes grew deep and it seemed as if I looked +into fathomless depths as he turned them full upon me for a moment. + +"Only a few hours between this long breath I am taking and the school to +which I go (mother has written the professor, asking if I can stay +longer--we shall have an answer to-morrow). It is doing me good, my +mind goes over the country round us here, and I am gathering long +breaths that give my mind and body strength. Ah! Miss Emily," he said, +as he rose and walked to and fro, "I shall sometime breathe and act as I +want to. I pray every day that my little mother may live to see me doing +what I desire to do, and, also, for strength. I need great strength, +Miss Emily. You will help to keep little mother alive, I know you will." + +And he came back, took both my hands in his own; I felt almost afraid--I +cannot tell you how powerfully expressive his look, voice and gestures +were, and he continued: + +"I like you--like you more than you know; you are true, you can be +depended on; you call my little mother your fairy cousin, and I call you +her royal friend. Do me a favor," he continued, "unbind your massive +hair and let it trail over your shoulders." And before I realised it my +hair swept the doorstone where I sat. "There," as he brushed it back +from my face, "look up and you are a picture; wear your long hair +floating--why not?" + +"Oh, Louis," I said, "how could I ever work with such a heavy mass about +me. If, as you say, I look like a picture, I certainly ought not to, for +I am only a country dandelion even as a picture," and I laughed. He +looked at me almost fiercely, as he said: + +"Miss Emily, never say it again; you are full of poetry; you have +glorious thoughts; you dream while at work; some day you will know +yourself;" and then there came the far-away look in his eyes. Clara came +to sit with us, and the evening wore itself into night's deep shading, +and the early hour for rest came to us all. The professor was amiable +and willing to accord two weeks more of freedom to Louis, who seemed to +enjoy more every day; and when he entered upon his fourth week, said: + +"He wished that week might hold a hundred days." + +It seemed to me that since Clara came to us she had been the constant +cause of surprise either in one way or another. In herself, as an +individual, she was to me a problem of no little consequence and not +easily solved, and she was continually bringing forth something +unexpected. + +The last of the third week of Louis' stay was made memorable by one of +her demonstrations. It was Wednesday evening, the last of our ironing +was finished, and mother and I were folding the clothes as we took them +down from the old-fashioned horse, when we heard her sweet voice +claiming us for special consultation. + +"Mrs. Minot," she called, and we left our clothes and went into the +square room, as we called it. Father and Louis were there, and when we +were seated she began: + +"Now, my dear friends, I propose to ask a favor of you. I love you three +people, and you have made me so happy here I do desire to call this spot +home for always. It seems to me I cannot feel so happy in another place, +and now you know I have many belongings in my old home in the city. I +know a lady who has met with misfortune, an old friend of my husband's +family, who is worthy, and forced at present by circumstances to earn +her living. Now may I ask you, my dear friends, to let me bring my +furniture here. Will you give me more room, that I may establish myself +just quite enough to make it pleasant, and then I can let my friend have +my house (upon condition of her retaining my old help, which I shall not +permit to be a trouble to her financially), and through your favor I may +help another. I should have asked it long ago, but I waited for my boy +to come and taste the air of your home here, and since he loves you as +well as I do, may we stay?" + +And she held her little white hands toward us, and opened her blue eyes +wide. + +Of course we all gladly consented. + +Then she clapped her hands, and turning to Louis, said: + +"Louis Robert, thank them." + +And he bowed and said in his own expressive way: + +"We will try to appreciate your kindness." + +I knew then what the covered chairs meant, but I secretly wondered "How +on airth," as Aunt Hildy used to say, all those moveables were to be got +into our house. This thought was running through my head when Clara +spoke, crossing the room as she did so, and taking my father's hand--and +he was such a reserved man that no one else would ever have dreamed of +doing so. + +"Mr. Minot, I have not finished yet. Would you grant me one thing more? +May I have a little bit of your ground on the west side of your house, +say a piece not more than eighteen by twenty-five feet, with which to do +just as I please?" + +Father looked thunderstruck, as he answered: + +"What can you do with it, Clara?" + +"Oh, never mind; may I?" + +"Yes, yes," he said in a dreamy way. + +And mother looked up, to be met by the eyes which sought her own, while +the sweet lips queried: + +"Will you say so too if you like my plans?" + +"I'll try to do what is best for us all"--and that meant volumes, for my +mother was thoroughly good, and as strong in what she deemed to be right +as mortal could be, and she never wavered a moment, where right was +considered. Unfaltering and true, her word was a law, and Clara at her +quiet answer felt the victory won. Now for the sequel, thought I, and +then Louis asked me to take a stroll in the moonlight, and although a +little curious at the revelation awaiting us, I could not deny him and +went for my hat and shawl. What a lovely night it was, and how the stars +stealing one by one into the sky seemed like breathing entities looking +down upon us. It seemed that night as if they heard what Louis said, and +you would not wonder had you seen the youthful fervor of this dark-eyed +youth; this strange combination of man and boy. When with him I felt +awed into silence, and though his thoughts always brought response from +my soul, yet did I hesitate for expression, language failing me utterly. +How many beautiful thoughts he uttered this night, and how strangely I +answered him! He was young and had not learned the lesson of waiting, if +effort of his own could hasten the development of any loved scheme. I +cannot, will not try to tell you all that he said, but he spoke so +positively, and commanded as it were an answer from my very soul. He +told me of his love for painting, of his great desire to do something +worthy of the best, as he expressed it. + +"And my first picture is to be yourself," he said; "you shall speak on +canvas. You think yourself so plain; oh! you are not plain, Miss Emily; +I love you, and you are my wild flower, are you not? Speak to me, call +me your Louis! Love me, as I do you. Ah! if you did not love me I could +not stay here till to-morrow--you think me young and presumptuous--you +say I do not know myself and I will change--I will not change--I am not +young--I want great love, such as comes to me through your eyes, to help +me--and you love me--you are my precious wild flower--I shall live for +you and my little mother." + +No word had escaped my lips, and now he paused, and looking at me, said: + +"Tell me if you do not love me!--tell me, Emily." + +Why did I--how could I answer him as I did--so cold; my voice fell upon +my own ear as I said slowly: + +"I don't know, Louis--you are so strange." + +What an answer! He quivered and the tears came to his eyes; he dashed +them aside and said: + +"How long shall I wait for you? say it now and help me; your spirit +loves me; I can hear it speak to me." + +I thought for the moment he was crazed. He divined my thought and said: + +"No, not crazy, but I want your help." + +"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I don't know, I am so ignorant--why was I born +so? don't treat me unkindly, you are dear to me, dear, but I can't +talk." + +"Never, never say so again." + +He seemed taller as he paused in his walk, and released the firm hold he +had kept of my arm, said slowly: + +"God waits for man, and angels wait, and I will wait, and you will tell +me sometime--say no word to my little mother"--and he kissed my +forehead, a tear-drop falling on me from his eyes, and we walked +silently and slowly home. + +I sought my room, and crying bitterly, said to myself, "Emily Minot must +you always do the very thing you desire not to do?" + +When my eye met Louis' at the table next morning, I felt as if I had +committed an unpardonable sin. My whole being had trembled with the deep +respect and admiration I had felt for him since the moment we met, and I +certainly had given him cause to understand me to be incapable of +responding to his innermost thought. I felt he would treat me +differently, but a second look convinced me that such was not the fact. +His noble nature could not illtreat any one, and I only saw a look of +positive endurance, "I am waiting," photographed on his features, and +made manifest in all his manner toward me, and a determined effort to +put me at ease resulted at last in forcing me to appear as before, while +all the time a sharp pain gnawed at my heart, and, unlike most girls, I +was not easy until I told my mother of it all. + +She stroked my dark hair and said: + +"You and he have only seen nineteen short years. Wisdom is the ripened +fruit of years; you cannot judge of your future from to-day." + +That comforted me, and I felt better in my mind. I planned something to +say to Louis, but every opportunity was lost, and the last week of his +stay had already begun. The plans of his little mother had been confided +to me, and work had commenced. + +There was to be an addition of four large rooms on the west side of our +house, and they were planned in accordance with Clara's ideas. She did +not call them her's, and started with the understanding that the +improvements were just a little present for her dear cousins. Best of +all, we were to have a bow window in one of the rooms, and this was +something so new, so different, it seemed a greater thing to me than the +architecture of the ancient cathedrals. A bow window, and the panes of +glass double, yes, treble the size of the old ones! + +I heard father say to mother that this new part would make the old one +look very shabby; but Louis had told me his mother intended to do all +father would allow her to, and encourage him a little, etc. And we were +to have a new fence. You cannot imagine how fairy-like this all seemed +to me, and I could hardly believe what I saw. It seemed as if we were in +a wonderland country, and I had moved as in a dream up to the last hour +of my walk with Louis. Then I seemed to awake, as if shaken by a rough +hand, and since then I had been striving to appear what I was not, all +the time thinking that Louis misunderstood me, and here we were in the +last week of his stay and no word as yet in explanation. I had thought +it over until it became a truth to me that after all he had not meant +that he loved me other than as a sister, and it also seemed to me that +was just what I needed. What remained was to have it settled between us, +and to do that I must clothe my thoughts with words, else how could he +know how I felt. It seemed, too, that it was sheer boldness on my part +to dream for a moment that Louis spoke of life's crowning love. He meant +to be as a brother to me, and again I sighed, as I stood at the ironing +table, "Ah, Emily Minot, you are a born mistake, that's just what you +are!" and as I sighed I spoke these words, and, turning, found myself +face to face with Louis, who had just come from the village. He never +could wait for the stage to come, and had been over as usual for +letters. + +"The only mistake is that you don't know yourself," he said. + +And the tears that had welled up to my eyes fell so fast, and I was so +choked, that I turned from work, thinking to escape into mother's +bedroom and hide myself; but my eye caught sight of a letter in his hand +unopened, and love for Hal rose above all my foolish tears, and so I +stood quietly waiting the denouement. + +"Come into the other room with me, Emily; I have something to tell you." + +He sat down on the little chintz-covered lounge, and I beside him. + +"Emily, you are a strong woman, your heart will beat fast, but you will +neither scream nor faint when I tell you; your brother is ill. There was +a letter in the office and also a telegram at the depot. What will be +done, who can go to him?" + +I did not scream or faint as he had said, but I clasped my hands tightly +and shut my eyes as if some terrible sight was before me, while my poor +heart grieved and brain reeled, as I thought, "Oh! he will die, poor +Hal! alone among strangers, and how would our patient mother bear it, +and what should we do!" + +My face was white, I know, for grief always blanched my face and brought +those terribly silent tears, that fall like solemn rain drops--each a +tongue. You must remember that I was a smothered fire in those days. + +Louis put his strong arm around me, and stroked my forehead as if I were +a child and he my mother. + +"He will not die, little flower, thy brother will live; you must go to +him, and I will go with you. You must not go alone to a great city." + +"Oh Louis!" I said, "he had only just begun to love me when he went +away, and now if he dies, what shall I do without him? Prayers have but +little weight, they ought to have saved him, I have prayed so long, so +hard, Louis, for his safety. But I must tell mother." And when she heard +me, and I said I must go to him, she sat down as if in despair; but a +moment after looked almost cheerful as she said: + +"You must start to-night, my dear, and I must get all the little +medicines I can think of ready for you to take, and as soon as he is +able he must come home. If it is a fever, I fear for his lungs." + +Clara waited until our talk was over, and then came and said Louis must +go with me; put into my hands a well filled purse, and said: + +"Bring the brother back, dear cousin; don't wait for him to get well; +bring him back on a bed if necessary; he will never get well among +strangers." + +When father came he was pained beyond expression, and his first thought +was for means to do all that must be done. + +"Clara has provided that, father," and he was too thankful to reply. + +Everything was ready; Louis and I said "good-bye" to all, and drove +rapidly away, for in order to reach the station below ours, where we +could take a night train West, we must ride thirty miles. The train was +due at eight-forty-five, and it was four o'clock when we started; a +neighboring farmer (Mr. Graves), who had a span of fleet horses took us, +and we dashed over the ground rapidly, having full five minutes to +breathe in at the depot ere we took the train. No luxurious palace cars +in those days, you know, just the cushioned seats, but that was enough +for me; I thought I could have sat on a hard wooden seat, or on anything +if I only could reach that suffering boy. Louis tried to arrange our +baggage so that I could sleep. + +"Sleep will not come to my eyelids to-night, Louis, I shall not sleep +until I see Halbert, and know how he is and is to be." + +"Now, Miss Emily," he said as he took my hand in his, "I say you must +sleep. Watching will do him no good until we get there, and more than +this, it may do him much harm, for if you get so tired, you will be ill +yourself when you arrive and then he will have no sister. For Hal's +sake, Miss Emily, you shall go to sleep; lean on my shoulder, and I +believe I can help your nerves to become quiet." + +I knew he was right, and yielded myself to the strong control he +possessed over me, and I slept I know not how long. When I awoke Louis +said we were getting along at good speed. + +"Day will break soon, and then comes a change of cars, and in a little +while we shall see the great city." + +I was for a few moments at a loss to realize everything; when I did I +said: + +"Selfish girl to sleep so long, and you have sat here watching me, and +now you are so tired." + +"Not so tired,--so glad for your rest--I can sleep to-morrow, and when +we get to Chicago you shall watch him days and I will watch nights; we +shall go to him armed with strength, which is more than medicine; I told +you long ago I had something to do for Hal, you see it is coming." + +The whole journey was pleasant, and sometimes it seemed wicked when Hal +was so sick for me to feel so rested and peaceful, but here I was +controlled, and it was blessed to be. I might never have come back to my +mother had it not been for the power of Louis' strong thought and will. + +The journey accomplished, it was not long ere we saw the dear face of my +blessed brother. I will not detail all the small horrors that met me in +the house where we found him. It might have seemed worse to me than it +really was, but oh! how I needed all the peace that had settled upon me, +to take in the surroundings of that fourth story room. Soul and sense +revolted at the sickening odors of the little pen, where, on a wretched +cot, my brother lay. I thought of our home, and drew rapid contrasts +between our comfortable beds, and the straw pallet before me; our white +clean floors, home-made rugs, and,--but never mind. Then I said in my +heart, "God help me to be more thankful," and with brimming eyes I +caught both Hal's hands in my own, and looked in his flushed face, +trying vainly to catch a look of recognition. He did not know me. Louis +had kindly stepped aside to give me all the room, but he watched me +closely, and caught me as I staggered backward feeling all the strength +go suddenly from my limbs, while from my lips came the words which +burned into my soul, "He will die." I had never in my life fainted, and +did not now. Louis drew a little flask of brandy from his pocket and +forced a few drops into my mouth. My will came back to me, and in a few +moments I could think a little. "A doctor, Louis, oh! where is there +one--what shall we do?" Even as I spoke, Hal's employer entered and with +him Dr. Selden. The merchant did not come as near to me as did the old +doctor with his good-natured, genial face, and quiet but elastic step. I +forgot everything but the sufferer, and turned to him with upraised +hands and streaming eyes, saying: + +"Oh! tell me quickly what to do, don't let him die, he has a good home +and friends, we love him dearly, help me to get him there," adding, in +answer to his look of inquiry, "I am his sister, and this gentleman," +turning to Louis, "is our friend Mr. Desmonde." + +The doctor laid his hand on my head and said: + +"I have not seen the patient before; an examination will doubtless help +me to answer your question, and to give you the help you ask. Rest +yourself, Miss, you will soon need a physician's aid yourself," and he +drew a chair close to the foot of the bed for me. Then he felt Hal's +pulse, stroked his head a little, and sat quietly down at the foot of +the bed just opposite me, and laid one hand over Hal's heart, leaning +forward a little, and looking as if half mystified. The few minutes we +sat there seemed to me an hour, waiting, as it seemed, for decision +between life and death. Suddenly Halbert sprang up and shouted: + +"Here! here! this way, almost finished--hold my heart--hold it still; +I'll make Emily's eyes snap when I get home, ha, ha!" and then a sort of +gurgling sound filled his throat, and he placed both hands over his +chest, and sank back, while for an instant all the blood left his face. +I put my hand into Louis', and groaned, trying hard to control myself, +for I knew we were close to the shadows, and perhaps, "Oh, yes," I +comfortingly thought, "perhaps we need not pass through them all." + +Doctor Selden moved to the head of his bed, and held both hands on Hal's +temples; for a few moments it seemed as if no one breathed, then Hal +drew a long breath as if he were inhaling something, and whispered: + +"That feels good; my head is tired, tired, tired." + +This gave me courage. It seemed then as if he were feeling the power of +an uplifting hand, and soon-- + +"Emily, Emily!" passed his lips. "Tell her to come to me, she will help +me, tell her to come." Then for a few moments all was still, and he +slept. Dr. Selden looked at me with hope in his eyes, and tears of +gratitude gathered to run like a river of rain drops over my cheeks. He +slept twenty minutes, and as he stirred the doctor motioned me to come +where he could see me. His eyes opened and met mine. + +"Emily!" he said, and putting both arms around my neck, drew my head +down to his pillow, and whispered: + +"Don't cry--I'll go home with you--all right, the end will be all +right." Fearing for his strength, I said softly: + +"Don't talk, you're too weak, Hal; lie still for a little while and shut +your eyes." I raised my head and put my hand on his forehead, and soon +he was asleep. Then in a low, kind tone the doctor told us the crisis +was past, and now we must wait for the changes, which were one by one to +fall on him. Hal's employer urged me to go to his house, and let Louis +remain with Halbert, and at last it was arranged that at night I should +sleep there, and Louis stay with Hal. Several hours would elapse, +however, before night, and during this time Dr. Selden, Louis and I +would stay with Hal. + +I had time during his long sleep to think of something to be done for +him, and realized, as I recovered from the first shock his situation +gave to my nerves, the importance of a different room, better +ventilation, etc., and when Dr. Selden motioned to Louis to take his +seat near Hal's head, where he could lay his hand upon him when he woke, +I whispered to him my thoughts. His answer, though somewhat comforting, +bade me wait until he could decide what was best. He took my hand in his +and called me "little girl,"--just think of it, I was five feet six +inches high, my face looked every day of forty that minute,--told me I +was too tired to plan, and he would attend to it all, adding, at the +close of his dear good talk: + +"His artist soul has nearly used up his physical strength. I feel there +has been great pressure on the nerves. If so there must be, according to +the course of nature, rapid changes up to a certain point, and then +there will be a thorough change slowly wrought out. Do not doubt my +skill, 'little girl,' he will come out all right; you and I have a sure +hold on his heart-strings." + +I could hardly wait to ask the question, "What do you mean by his artist +soul? what is he doing? and the doctor's eyes were looking in wonder at +me, and his lips parting with a word, when Hal's voice startled us with: + +"Emily, who is this?" and we turned to see him looking at Louis, whose +hand was on his head. + +I answered, "The dear friend Hal who brought me here." + +"What a beautiful hand he has. Oh! how it rests my tired, tired brain," +he said. "Water, Emily, sister, a little water." + +Dr. Selden gave him a glass, saying, "Drink all you like." + +"I am faint," said Hal. + +"Take this, my good fellow," and the doctor held a glass of cordial to +his lips. + +He was perfectly lucid now, and his voice natural. Dr. Selden, +anticipating questions from him, answered them all; told him I had come +to stay until he could go back to the old home with me, and of Mr. +Hanson's kind tender of hospitality to both Louis and myself, and +settled every vexing question for the patient, who looked a world of +thanks, and with "God be praised" on his lips passed again into +unconsciousness, with Louis' hand still passing over his head. I thought +then if Louis should ask me to jump into the crater of Vesuvius for him +I could do it out of sheer thankfulness; and I marvelled at him, the +child of wealth and ease, only a boy in years, here in this miserable +room a strong comforting man, seeming as perfectly at home as if always +here. Then the thought of the artist came back to me and I leaned +forward to ask Dr. Selden what it all meant. + +"Why, little girl, your brother is a sculptor born. He has sat up nights +working hard to accomplish his work, and has succeeded too well in his +art, for unconsciously he has worn his nervous power threadbare. You +will see one of his little pieces in Mr. Hanson's library when you go +down there. He has a friend here who--Ah!" said the doctor, turning at +that very moment toward the slowly-opening door and grasping the hand of +a tall stately man with dreamy eyes, who seemed to be looking the +question, "May I come in." + +"Yes, yes; come in, professor," whispered the doctor, and he introduced +me to Hal's teacher and friend, Wilmur Benton. Then offered him the only +remaining chair. + +The professor seated himself quietly, and raising his dreamy brown eyes +said, "Will he live?" + +The doctor smiled and bowed a positive "yes" as he said: + +"The crisis is past, care and patience now." + +At this moment Hal awoke, and this time more naturally than before. He +was quiet, looked upon us all with the clear light of reason in his +eyes, and would have talked if it had been allowed. He wanted us all +close to him, and smiled as he held tightly Louis' hand in one of his, +and with the other grasped that of Professor Benton, to lay both +together in a silent introduction. I think Hal felt that Louis had saved +his life, and he clung to his hand as a drowning man would to a life +preserver. One sweet full hour passed over us, and the doctor made +preparation to leave him, whispering to me: + +"The young man you brought to your brother is giving him wonderful +strength, and he must leave him only long enough to rest a little. The +crisis is past and the victory won." + +And here began and ended a wonderful lesson in life. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A QUESTION AND A PROBLEM. + + +The details of our stay in Chicago as a whole would be uninteresting, +and I would not weary the reader with them. Hal improved so rapidly that +on the fourth day after our arrival, he was carried in comparative +comfort to Mr. Hanson's residence, and placed for a few days in a +pleasant chamber to gather strength for our journey home. One little +incident I must tell you, connected with my introduction to Mr. Hanson's +family. We were seated at the supper table, talking of Hal, his sickness +and the cause of it, when Daisy, a five-year-old daughter, spoke +quickly, "Mamma, mamma, she looks just like the 'tree lady,' only she +don't have her sewing." + +I did not realize it as the child spoke, but when Mrs. Hanson chided the +little one, saying, "Daisy must learn not to tell all her little +thoughts," it all came so clearly, and I trembled visibly; yes, I guess +it was rather more than visible, since an unfortunate tilt in my chair, +an involuntary effort of trying to poise brain and body at once, upset +cup and saucer and plate, and before I knew it Mrs. Hanson had deluged +me with bay rum. They said I nearly fainted, but I realized nothing save +the ludicrous figure I presented, and I thought desparingly "Emily did +it." After supper I went to the library, and there it was--this piece of +work which Hal had done, representing me sitting under that old apple +tree, hemming and thinking. It was so perfectly done, even to the plain +ring on my middle finger, a wide old-fashioned ring which had been my +grandmother Minot's, and bore the initials "E.M." I could not speak when +I saw it, and if I could I should not have dared to for fear of some +unfortunate expression. I wished in my heart it had been any one else +but me. + +"If my face had been like Hal's," I thought, and I stood as one covered +with a mantle and bound by its heavy folds, until the gentle voice of +Mrs. Hanson roused me, saying: + +"Take a seat, Miss Minot, you are very tired." Yes, I was tired, though +I did not know it, and taking the chair she proffered, I covered my face +with both my hands and drew long breaths, as if to deliver myself from +the thoughts which overwhelmed me. Mrs. Hanson's womanly nature divined +my feelings, and she left me to myself, but after a while Daisy drew an +Ottoman near, and seating herself on it put her little hands in mine and +whispered: + +"I think you're awful pretty. Don't you?" + +I drew her into my lap and kissed her, and my dreams that night were +hope and peace. Louis was with me there, and although constantly +attentive to Hal, he gave no signs of weariness, and Hal would look into +his eyes, as he sat beside him, with a look of perfect devotion. I +thought so many times, as he lay back among his pillows looking at +Louis, he was mentally casting his features, and how nice it would be +when his deft hands moulded the clay with face and form like that of our +beautiful Louis Desmonde. What a joy to Clara's heart, and my own would +beat like a bird in its cage, thrilled with rapture at the prospect of +deliverance! Had he not saved the life of my darling brother, and in my +heart down deep, so deep I could bring no light of words upon the +thought, I felt that I loved them both. The tenth day (since our removal +to Mr. Hanson's) arrived, and then came our departure. I cried every +minute, and only because I was glad. Mr. and Mrs. Hanson and Louis +thought it due to over-exertion, and when I tried to explain I made an +unintelligible murmur, and only succeeded in bringing out one +thought--my gratitude to them and the hope that I might one day repay +it. Oh, how kind they were! Everything to make the transit easy for Hal +was cared for, even to the beautiful blanket Mrs. Hanson gave him, which +was doubly precious since her grandmother span the wool and colored and +wove it with her own hands. It was a happy party which left Chicago on +that memorable morning, and our journey was delightful. Father was +waiting for us at the old home station, and instead of the old stage we +rode home in an easy carry-all behind our own horses. Mother and Clara +met us with outstretched hands, and the latter, as she stood in the +doorway, looked a perfect picture. + +Hal was very tired, and for days after our return was threatened with a +relapse, which was averted only by the unvarying care and strength of +Louis. When this risk was over and he was fairly started on the road of +recovery, came the departure of our friend and his return to his +studies. Oh, how we dreaded it! Hal said afterward the thought of his +going sent a chill to his head. The evening before his departure we +walked over the hill through the pleasant path his mother and myself +always chose when we walked and talked together. I said: + +"Go with us, Clara," as we sauntered along the yard path toward the +gate, but Louis looked at her and she turned gaily from us with the +words: + +"I will look after the invalid." + +It seemed to me I was made of stone that evening, and we walked long +before the silence was broken. At last Louis stopped, and taking both my +hands looked into my heart (it seemed so to me) and said: + +"I leave to-morrow." + +My eyes grew moist, but only a sigh escaped my lips. I did not even say +I was sorry. + +Then we sat down on the mossy trunk of our favorite tree, and he said: + +"Are you sorry, Emily? Will you miss me, and will you write to me, and +will your dark eyes read the words I send to you?" + +Dumb, more dumb than before, I sighed and bowed my head, and again he +spoke, this time with that strange, terribly earnest look in his eyes I +had seen before. + +"Oh, Emily! my dear Emily! I am only a boy in years, but I love you with +the strength of a man. I have saved the life of your brother because I +loved his sister; and," he added in a low tone, "I love him too, but not +as I do the dark eyes of his sister. Oh! Emily, do you love me? Can you +and will you love me, and me only?" + +And he drew me to him almost fiercely, while I quivered in every nerve, +and answered: + +"Louis, do you know me well? Can you not understand my heart? How can I +help loving you?" + +He loosened his grasp about me, and as his arm fell from my waist, tears +fell at his feet. Oh, what a nature was his! Then turning again to +me--"Will you wear this?" and a ring of turquoise and pearls was slipped +on my finger, while in his hand he held a richly-carved shell comb. + +"This is for your midnight hair Emily, wear it always," and he placed it +among the coils of my hair. + +Silence followed for a little time, and then Louis with his soulful eyes +fixed on something afar off, spoke with great fervor of the life he +longed for. + +"Emily, you do not know me yet," he said. + +"I know you better than you know yourself, but I am to you a puzzle, and +oh, if I could skip the years that lie between to-day and the day when +you and I shall really understand each other! Perfect in peace that day +I know will come, but there are clouds between. My father willed that I +should have this education I am getting. I need it, I suppose, but I +have greater needs, and cannot tell you about them till I am free." + +"Two years--twenty-four months;" and his eyes fell, as he added +despairingly, "What a long time to wait." Then turning to me, "But you +will love me, you have said so?" + +I looked my thoughts, and he answered them. + +"Do not ever think so of me, I am only too sane, I have found my life +before the time." + +"Oh! Louis," I cried, and then he answered with the words, + +"My little mother knows it--she knows I love you. She knows my inmost +soul, and answers me with her pure eyes. But ah! her eyes have not the +light of yours; I want you to myself, to help me, and I will love you +all my life." + +I was amazed, and wondered why it was--this strange boy had been much in +society, and why should I, an unsophisticated, homely girl, bring such a +shower of feeling on myself. + +"Could it be real and would it last?" + +He comprehended my thought again and replied: + +"You are not homely; I see your soul in your eyes; you are younger than +I am; I have never seen your equal, and I know years will tell you I am +only true to my heart, and we will work together--ah! we will work for +something good, we will not be all for ourselves, _ma belle_," and on my +forehead he left a kiss that burned with the great thoughts of his +heart. + +I could only feel that I was in the presence of a wonderful power, and +at that moment he seemed a divinity. The moon came over the hill, and +with his arm in mine we turned our steps homeward, and Clara met us +half-way, and putting her hand fondly in Louis' said: + +"My boy is out under the moon. I feared he was lost." + +"My little mother!" and he gathered her under his wing, as it seemed, +and we were soon at the gate of home. Louis and his mother passed in at +the side door. As they did so, I fell back a step or two, turned my +steps toward the old apple tree, and there, sitting against its old +trunk, I talked aloud and cried and said: + +"Have I done wrong, or is it right?" + +Oh! what strange thoughts came over me as I sat growing more and more +convinced that Louis' talk to me was a boyish rhapsody, and yet I knew +then, as I had before known, that my own heart was touched by his +presence. If he had been older, I should have felt that heaven had +opened; as it was, I longed to be full of hope and to dream of days to +be, and still I feared and I said aloud, "I am afraid, oh, I am afraid!" +and at that moment Louis stood before me, and in quiet tones spoke as +one having authority: + +"Emily, you will get cold, you should not sit here." + +And as I rose the moonbeams fell on my tear-stained face, and he said as +if I were the merest child: + +"Why do you fear I shall ever be different toward you; but you need not +feel bound even though you have said you will love me." + +"Louis," I cried, "you are cruel; you trouble me; I can't tell how I +feel at all," and then realizing his last sentence I took off the ring, +but ere I could speak he put it back, saying: + +"No, no, Emily. I will wait one year, and then if you are afraid I will +go away; but keep the ring, for that is yours, and yours alone." + +I went up to my little room without bidding any one "good-night," and +thought those old three words right over, "Emily did it." I had covered +myself up because I dared not be known, and if, after all, it was right, +how good it would be to be loved by one capable of such wondrous love as +he possessed. + +I dreamed all night that I was alone and ill, and in the morning I +dreaded to meet Louis, but he gave no sign of any troubled thought, and +when the stage came was ready with his bright "good-bye." He folded his +little mother to his heart and held her there for a few seconds. When he +came to me his hand's grasp was firm and strong. His kiss and whisper +came together, "I will write." A moment later and he had gone. Clara +went to her own room, to cry a little softly as she afterward said, and +so the time wore on till the evening found us again all around the +table, and old grey Timothy, our cat, had the boldness to sit in Louis' +chair, which made Clara laugh through her tears. Joy and sorrow go hand +in hand, and while we felt his loss so keenly, his letters were a great +pleasure. + +Hal had his share as well as Clara and I, and mother used to read every +one of Hal's. It seemed strange to me to have anything to keep from +mother, and had she opened the door I would have told her all, but she +never asked me about Louis' letters, and until I overheard a +conversation between my father and her I was held in silence; then the +ice was broken, for father said: + +"I do not know what to do. It is possible that this bright young fellow +will play the part that so many do, and our innocent Emily be made the +sufferer. When he comes again we will try and manage to have her away. +She is a good girl and capable beside. Her life must not be blighted, +but we must also be careful not to hurt Clara's feelings. Clara is a +good little woman, and how we should miss her if she left us!" + +"Well," said my mother, "I do not feel alarmed about our Emily, but, of +course, it is better to take too much precaution than not enough," and +their conversation ended. + +When an opportunity presented I talked with mother, told her what I had +heard, and all that Louis had said to me, almost word for word, and the +result was her confidence. When our talk closed, she said in her own +impressive way: + +"I will trust you, my daughter, and only one thing more I have to say: +Let me urge upon you the importance of testing your own deepest, best +feelings in regard to this and every other important step--yes, and +unimportant ones as well. There is a monitor within that will prove an +unerring guide to us at all times. If we do not permit ourselves to be +hurried and driven into other than our own life channels we shall gather +from the current an impetus, which comes from the full tide of our +innate thought. Such thought develops an inner sense of truth and +fitness, which is a shield ever covering us, under any and all +circumstances. It holds us firmly poised, no matter which way the wind +may be, or from what quarter it strikes us." + +This thought I could not then appreciate fully, but I did what I could +toward it, and it was, in after years, even then, an anchor. My mother's +eyes were beautiful; they looked like wells, and when thoughts like +these rose to mingle with their light, they seemed twice as large and +full and deep as on ordinary occasions. I never wanted to disobey her, +and in those days we read through together the chapters in life's book +that opened every sunrise with something new. Our souls were blent as +one in a delightful unity, that savored more of Paradise than earth, and +now with Hal's returning strength, there was a triple pulsation of +mingled thought. Oh, Halbert, my blessed brother, no wonder my eyes are +brimming with tears of love at these dear recollections! Louis had sent +him a large box of material for doing his work, and Clara had insisted +on his having one of her new rooms for a studio, and everything was as +perfect as tasteful appointments could make it, even to the +dressing-gown she had made for him. + +She made this last with her own hands, of dark blue cashmere, corded +with a thread of gold. He had to wear it, too, for she said nothing +could be too nice to use. + +"Why, my dear Halbert," she added, "the grass is much nicer and you walk +on that." + +The rich rosy flush came slowly enough into his pale cheeks, but it +found them at last, and I do believe when we saw the work grow so fast +under his hands, we were insane with joy. To think our farmer boy who +followed the cows so meekly every night had grown to be a man and a +sculptor, throwing such soul into his work as to model almost breathing +figures! His first work was a duplicate of the piece at Mr. Hanson's, +and was made at Louis' especial request. His next work was a study in +itself. It was an original subject worthy of Hal's greatest efforts, a +representation of our good old friend Hildah Patten, known to all our +village as "Aunt Hildy." We called her our dependence, for she was an +ever-present help in time of need; handy at everything and wasteful of +nothing. Her old green camlet cloak (which was cut from her +grandfather's, I guess) with the ample hood that covered her face and +shoulders, was a welcome sight to me, whenever at our call for aid she +came across lots. She lived alone and in her secluded woodland home led +a quiet and happy life; she was never idle, but always doing for others. +Few really understood her, but she was not only a marvel of truth but +possessed original thought, in days when so little time was given in our +country to anything save the struggle for a living. It is only a few +years since Aunt Hildy was laid away from our sight. I often think of +her now, and I have in my possession the statuette Hal made, which shows +camlet cloak, herb-bags and all. I desire you to know her somewhat, +since her visits were frequent and our plans were all known to her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WILMUR BENTON. + + +The fall is a busy time in a farmer's household--with the gathering of +grain, clearing up of fields, and making all due preparations for the +coming winter; and it is beautiful also. This year, however, the many +colored leaves had sought the ground unnoticed by me; for my days had +been absorbed in thought and, instead of looking at things about me, if +I had a spare moment I wandered in the realms of feeling. + +November had come to us with Louis' departure, and the weeks between his +coming and going seemed, as I looked back, like a few hours only, +crowded together as a day before me with the strange events, and +stranger thoughts, whose existence from that time onward has forced me +to own their supremacy and power. Hal's artist friend, Professor Benton, +was coming to see him--and I wished it were May instead of November, for +it seemed to me the outer attractions of our country home were much +greater than the inner, and I could not see how he was to be +entertained. Clara's side (as we called the four rooms she had added) +would be the only attraction, and since Hal was domiciled there, that +would be the right place. Many paintings adorned the walls, and to me +there was such a contrast between our middle room and its belongings, +and the sunny chamber occupied by Hal, that whenever I looked on the +massively-framed pictures there, they seemed out of place. Clara was +fond of having them in sight, and labored hard to have her loves ours. +Every other evening we were forced to occupy that side of the house and +I wonder, as I look back, that my father could have been so obedient to +her wishes. She would sit on an ottoman between him and my mother and +often with her head resting against the arm of his chair, talking with +us of our farm, the plans for winter, and the fences to be built with +the coming spring; and she was never satisfied unless allowed to be +really one of us. The building she had done was accredited to my father, +for she would not have it otherwise, and when his spirit of independence +prompted him to refuse her board-money afterward, she looked at him with +tears in her eyes and said: + +"Why must I be repelled, Mr. Minot? Please let me stay here always. I +have no comfort if I have no one to be happy with, and you must take +this from me." + +She was no trouble, and such a small eater that she must have paid us +four times over for all she had. Father thought at first her impulsive +gifts would be of short duration, but months had revealed her to us, and +we realized that she was a marvel of goodness. Not only interesting +herself in us but in others. Weekly visits were made by her to the poor +in our parish, and blessings fell on her head in prayers rising from the +lips of her grateful friends. The semi-monthly sewing circle she caused +to be appointed at our house (her side), and with her own hands made +all the edibles necessary on every occasion. She shrank from making +calls upon those who were not in need of her services, and never went +willingly to any public gathering. I never knew why, but she was +morbidly sensitive on this point. Once she was over-persuaded, and went +to an old-fashioned quilting party with mother, and she came home in a +fainting condition, and we worked over her until after midnight. + +"I am so cold here," she said, placing her hand on her heart--"I will +not go out any more, Mrs. Minot; it hurts me." + +We never afterward urged her, nor explained her suffering to the friends +who inquired. She exacted a promise to that effect. + +What a strange being our lovely Clara was! She grew to our hearts as ivy +to the oak, and the tendrils of her nature entwined us, creeping a +little nearer daily, until the doors of our hearts were covered with +their growing beauty. I should be writing all about her, and not bring +myself into my story at all, but the promise I made you must be +fulfilled. At some other time I may write out for you the life and work +of this beautiful friend. My own experience seems to me only a +background against which her picture ought to rest. I have been +rambling, for you remember I began to tell you about the coming of Hal's +artist friend from Chicago. I believe it was the fifteenth of November +when he came, and his presence was not a burden as I feared, for he +found and filled a place held in reserve for him, and all united with me +in saying: "What a splendid man he is!" + +Brother Ben, who was now at an interesting age, called him "a man to +study," and he seemed to be fascinated by him. His eyes followed every +motion, and his ear was keenly alive to every expression of thought. I +sometimes thought Hal wished Ben did not like him as well, for he was +constantly availing himself of his society. Some work fortunately had to +be done, else Hal would have been very much troubled to gain an +audience. Clara did not like the artist quite as well as I did, though +she said with the rest, "What a splendid man!" and betrayed by no word +or act any disregard for his feelings, still I intuitively felt a +something she did not say; and when I told her he had made an +arrangement to stay all winter, she clasped her white hands together +tightly, and between two breaths a sigh came fluttering from her lips, +while tears gathered in the blue of her eyes, as the white lids fell to +cover what she would not have me notice. Although a pain and wonder +filled my heart for a moment, I knew if Clara wished me to divine her +feelings she would explain herself, and her silence left me to my own +conjectures. I said to myself "Some thought of the past has come over +her," for I could not see how the stay of Wilmur Benton could affect her +happiness. He treated her with great deference and seemed to realize +with us that she had a rare organization. His stay was a matter of great +interest with Hal, as Hal was to gain from him the instruction he +needed, and they expected to get much enjoyment from working together. +Louis would be with us through the holidays, and Mr. Benton would, I +knew, enjoy that, for he insisted that it was the magic of his hand that +had saved Hal's life, and he looked on him as a real blessing. The two +artist souls blended as one, and drank daily deep draughts from the +fountain of an inspiring genius, and as I watched the work grow under +their hands, and the plastic and senseless clay become a fair statue, +lacking nothing save breath and motion to reveal an entity, I questioned +if the power was really theirs, or if their hands had touched a secret +spring and were guided outside of themselves. It really never seemed +like exertion, and to sense this wondrous art was to me the asking of +questions deeper than any among us could answer. + +Hal's statue of dear Aunt Hildy was copied, and improved also by Mr. +Benton, who considered it a masterpiece, and the respect we bore our +friend was not lessened, even though there were those among us who might +speculate as to the motive that prompted it. + +We never called her funny, but original, and good as gold. Our family +numbered now seven people, and with the farm work in addition to the +daily preparation of meals, the clearing up and upsetting again of +things, there were many steps to take, and Aunt Hildy was installed as +our help in need. + +These were the days of help--not servants--when honest toil was well +appreciated by sensible people, and no hurried or half-done work fell +from their hands, but the steady doing resulted in answering the daily +demands. + +"It's a bunch of work to do; it is, indeed, Mrs. Minot," said Aunt +Hildy. + +"But we'll master it." + +"I ain't never going to be driven by work, nor aristocracy neither. It's +a creepin' in on us, though, like the snake in the garden, just to make +folks think they can get more comfort out of fixin's than they can out +of the good old truths. I can't be fed on chaff; no, I can't." + +And her sleeves would go up to her elbows, and she would march through +work like a mower through a field. + +Her coming gave me a chance to do some sewing, and with Clara's help +about cutting (and she sewed with me), the needed spring and summer +apparel and house linen were fashioned and made ready for use. The days +passed pleasantly to us all, and though I had watched Clara closely, she +betrayed neither by word nor sign anything that savored of dislike +toward Professor Benton; and still, sometimes, I felt that unexplainable +something that once in a while tried as it were to shape itself before +me, and as often vanished in mist. We had long evenings, and many new +topics were introduced and discussed. I had access to Clara's large and +well selected library, and I improved every opportunity to inform myself +on doubtful subjects. Sometimes I despaired of knowing anything new, and +again my brain would seem clearer, and would take in the new thoughts +with keen perception. When, however, we came to talk upon these same +subjects, I sat nearly dumb; I could summon no thoughts nor words to +frame them. Even this stupidity had its advantage, for Mr. Benton (Hal +called him Will) was a good talker, and had, as all talkers have, a +great respect for a good listener, and he often said to me: + +"You have a heart to appreciate rare truths, Miss Minot." + +Clara was gifted in conversation, but did not always express her +sentiments with great freedom. + +If we touched on things nearest her heart, and I believe the doing of +good each to the other was her highest thought, she was at home, and her +blue eyes would glow with light, as in her own sweet way she talked long +and earnestly. I shall never forget the first time Mr. Benton noticed +this point in her organization. The newsmonger of our town had been to +see us, had spent the afternoon and taken tea, and while it was +amusement for me to hear her gossip incessantly about this thing and +that, this person and the other, Clara was greatly annoyed by it. It +caused a righteous indignation to rise within her, and when after the +visit we were seated by the antique centre table in her sitting-room, +the conversation turned upon the peculiarities of this scandal-loving +Jane North. + +Clara expressed herself freely on the subject of small talk, as she +termed scandal. Her eyes dilated, her small hands were folded tightly, +and when she closed it was with this last feeling sentence: + +"I can only say, 'Father, forgive them, they know not what they do,' who +scatter the theme of contention where roses should appear, and in +tearing down the habitation of their neighbors lose also their own; for +they who have respect for themselves will have respect for their +neighbors. May we yet live to understand the meaning of the words, 'Love +ye one another.' When this shall be, oh, my more than friends, when this +shall be, we shall know each other, even as we are known! No secret +blight shall cover any life, no worm of regret gnaw at the tree of our +unfolding lives! We shall all be as a unit, and our Father who seeth us +in secret shall then reward us openly! Yea, more, for are not we +ourselves capable of holding communion with this part of God within us? +We know our souls are with us to-day, and it is only because the roots +of thought are covered, and the feet of envy, hatred and malice are +pressing, the hard soil against them, that the tendrils of our loving +natures are never asked to climb, and the eternal ivy of our great love +reaches not the windows of expressed thought, else our hands would be +made strong to do daily that which is found to do with all our might." + +Her last beautiful utterance finished, she closed her eyes as if covered +with the mantle of her holy thoughts, and we all sat in a breathless +silence. Aunt Hildy who sat in the corner (by preference) stirred not a +muscle from the beginning to the close of her talk, and Mr. Benton +looked first in wonder then in admiration, and when our silence was +broken by a fervent "Amen" from Aunt Hildy, he added: + +"'Even so let it be.' Those thoughts are beautiful." + +Clara looked at him with an almost reproachful glance, the import of +which I could not understand. + +I was not sensitive like Clara; perhaps intuitive would express it +better. She seemed to understand every one's nature on the first +meeting, and I had marvelled many tunes at her accuracy in reading +character. + +She told me that her heart went out to Aunt Hildy at their first +meeting, and I felt convinced now there was something about this new +friend that no one save herself could detect, and whether it had shape +with her or not was a question. + +Three weeks of Mr. Benton's stay had passed when this incident occurred, +and from that hour there was a marked change in his manner toward her. +I could see, ignorant as I was of the phases of life, how he was +attracted to her. This glimpse of her wondrous nature had opened his +eyes, and perhaps touched his heart. His age must be about hers, I +thought, and how strange if it should be that he loved her. But here I +run into a mist where nothing was plain. Days will tell the story, I +thought, and we were sure of days and changes while life lasted. It +became plain to me after a little that Clara felt the change in his +manner toward her, and in every quiet move of hers I detected the +disposition on her part to repel any advances. She gave him no +opportunity to be with her alone, and if by chance this happened, her +sweet voice would call "Emily, come in this way, we are lonely without +you," and her eyes would turn on me when I entered with a sort of +wistful glance. It always reminded me of a child looking confidently +into the eyes of its mother, expecting the help it was sure to find. I +hardly enjoyed this, for I knew Mr. Benton thought me old enough to +discern a little, and he must have believed us to be in league together, +whereas no word had passed between us on the subject until just before +Christmas, when Louis was expected. + +Clara and I were sitting busily sewing and talking of the coming of "her +dear boy," when she let her sewing fall and sat as in thought a few +moments before she spoke. + +"Emily (and she spoke slowly and with earnestness. I felt frightened for +her cheek grew white as the words fell from her lips), when Louis comes +keep close to me all the time, will you? Oh! I know you will, and since +I ask such a favor, it is only right I should tell you all about it. I +know, for I feel it in here (and she laid her hand on her head), that +Professor Benton desires to talk to me. He must not be allowed to, +Emily, for if he does it will hurt me so much. I will tell you why, and +I know you will tell it to no one." + +I looked an assent and she continued: + +"He thinks that he might like me so well that he would wish me near him +for ever. But he does not know that I cannot let him say this to me. It +would be hard to make him understand me; he never could. And then if he +should know me very well, it would be all wrong. I love my Louis Robert, +and he is waiting on the hills for me. Yes, my dear Emily, he waits for +me there. Did he not say so when he died, and will he not come for me +some day when I shall be a little more weary, and this beating heart +grows colder? He says he will and I am always with him in my thoughts. +It almost hurts me to live at all. Can you see, Emily, can you know how +it is because I need you all _so_ much that I must stay with you? +Professor Benton has a good heart, but it feels cold to me. His art +obscures from him all else; he can love no one as he loves a picture. +Now you will promise me, no not with words--I would only feel your arm +around me, and with my hand in yours feel you are my trusted one--my +soul friend and my great help." + +Silence was ill suited to my feelings at that moment. I gathered her +gentle form to me, and held her tight while those ever ready tears of +sympathy filled my eyes full, and I spoke honestly when I said: + +"I don't care a fig for Mr. Benton, and if he troubles you I will send +him back to Chicago, and I wish he had never come at all." + +"Oh! oh! do not say it; I shall fear to have you know my heart, it makes +you rebellious. It is well that he came, as your brother needs him, and +you do wrong to say such words. Wait, Emily, keep quiet, you are like a +wind when your thoughts are stirred, and time, my love, will help you to +make your hand strong, and your heart also. It is on a full tide and +with a steady wind that vessels find the sea, while changeful blasts +will shipwreck them, and then cast their wrecks upon the shore. And so +it is with mortals; we have to keep saying, wait! while we pray to be +guided aright." + +"I am always running off the track, Clara, I know; teach me to know +myself and let me help you; you are so different; I shall never be like +you," I said. + +"And you do not wish to be, I hope," was her reply. + +"I would like more of your quiet spirit, but that belongs to you, and if +I wait and work hard to do it, I shall always be upsetting what I wish +to do, and plaguing others instead of helping--" Mother came in and our +talk was at an end. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +FEARS AND HOPES. + + +Many thoughts filled my mind after what Clara had said, and I thought +much of her beautiful faith as to her husband and his waiting for her; +of her trust in his coming, and of the reality with which came into her +existence this wonderful future that waits for us all if (and sometimes +this little conjunction assumed wonderful proportions) immortality +really be ours. My heart told me we were to live, and in my higher +thoughts I could sometimes see the light that flooded those old hills +near our home, reaching far on to where all those of our household were +waiting. I never at these times could think of our beloved friends, my +blessed grandmother, of whom we did not even possess a daguerreotype, as +an angelic and unearthly something with wings, but rather as a real +being, whose face I should recognize, whose hands should touch my own, +while her lips would move, and in her dear old way she would say "Come +in, Emily," just as she used to when I went as a child to her door, and +looked in at her, as she lay on her bed, partly paralyzed. Her hair was +white with the cares of seventy-four winters, and her eyes filled then +with such a pleasant light. She had lived with us, this dear Grandma +Northrop, for years. Hal had always been her special charge; she called +him her boy, and up to the last month of her life mended his stockings +first; she would go to the door and watch him go for the cows, and when +he came back over the west meadows, would say with admiration: + +"That boy is worth a dozen such as Ben Davis; he'll do something great +before he dies." + +My mother spoke often of her, and also recalled her saying, "I hope +angels can see men," meaning that she could not bear the thought of +leaving Hal. + +I was only five years old when she left us, still her memory was sacred +to me, and through the summer days I covered her grave with everlasting +flowers and daisies. I remembered her as genial, though somewhat +peculiar in her ways; she had a warm appreciation of wit, and was ever +ready with answers. Mother remembered and told me so many of her happy +sayings that it kept her memory fresh among us all, and if angels could +both see and hear men, she must have felt grateful that we remembered +her with such pleasure. I treasured the hoop ear-rings which she wore, +and which bore her initials, "E.L.N." Her name was Elizabeth, but she +was called by all "Betsey." To Hal she had left two silver spoons and +her snuff-box. He had it among his little treasures, and kept the same +bean in it that was there when she died. I wished a thousand times and +more that my name might be Elizabeth, but Emily was given me by a sister +of father's who desired me to be her namesake, and if I had been more +like her in my young years I should never have been likened to a "fierce +wind," as Clara so truly termed me. This Aunt Emily had gone to her +heavenly home, as had many of my mother's family. She was one of eleven +children, and at this date only one brother, Peter, and a sister, Phebe, +were living. Mother had a beautiful sister, Sallie, who died young, and +whom I loved to hear about. She painted her picture in words for me, and +I could see her dark blue eyes, her brown hair that looked like satin, +and her pink cheeks, almost as if I had really seen and known her. And +when this heaven, that sometimes seemed so like far off mist, grew +nearer, I imagined the meeting of them all, and enjoyed the pleasant +picture which lay before my mind's eye like a waiting promise of whose +fulfillment I felt sure. Clara and Aunt Hildy had long conversations on +these subjects, and Aunt Hildy said to me when speaking of these talks: + +"Oh! I love her white soul, Emily; she allus brings heaven right down to +airth, and even when she don't talk I feel so kind of blessed when I sit +near her. Few such folks are let to live, and somehow I'm almost +convinced she can't stay long," and the corner of her blue-checked apron +would touch her humid eyes, as she turned again to her work. + +Work was a matter of principle with her, and to neglect one duty +unnecessarily, no light offense. She was as true to her highest +conviction of right as the needle to the pole, and held the truth close +to her heart--so close that all her outer life was in correspondence +with her interior perceptions. Truly her light was not under a bushel. + +I hoped her fear of Clara's death would not soon be realized, for it did +not seem as if we could bear to lose her presence. Never in any way +could she intrude herself, for her nature moved her in perpetual lines, +whose shadow never fell on the path of another. I felt sorry that she +should be troubled, and I fear my dark eyes now and then shot telling +glances at Mr. Benton. + +The more she tried, even in her graceful way, to repel his advances, the +more determined he was to gain access to her heart. In this I could +detect the selfish part of his nature, and while I could not blame him +for loving her, I knew that my love for her was so great that I would +not knowingly give her any pain, and it seemed to me his love must be +less than it should be, for he could not fail to know it troubled her +and should have desisted. In a few days after our conversation Louis +came. + +Clara had, since she realized Mr. Benton's feelings toward her, been +very careful in the selection of her wearing apparel, choosing for her +daily use the plainest dresses. But on the day of Louis' arrival she +said to me, as we went up stairs after dinner was cleared away: + +"Emily, will you put on the dress that becomes you so well?" It was a +garnet merino she alluded to, a gift from herself. + +"We should make a pleasant picture for Louis when he comes; the dear boy +loves to see his little mother in blue, and our royal Emily in becoming +colors." + +"Of course I will," I said, and as I fastened the lace collar, whose +pattern was roses and leaves, with the pin she gave me, and looked in my +little glass, I thought what a poor resemblance to royalty I bore, and +laughed at the appellation. + +Supper was ready, but we waited for the stage, and when it came we were +all at the door. Hal met Louis first and then came Mr. Benton; Clara +kept drawing me back with her, and he was obliged to greet mother and +father and Aunt Hildy also, ere we were visible. + +"Little mother! blessed little mother!" and he held her close, kissing +her with passionate fondness, then turning to me he took both my hands +and whispered softly: + +"Last but not least," and we followed the rest to the supper table. + +Mr. Benton was more than polite during the meal, and afterward delighted +Louis with showing him an unfinished portrait of Clara, which he had +commenced painting on canvas. + +This information was conveyed to me at the first favorable opportunity, +and when Louis enjoined secrecy upon me, he expressed great pleasure +with Mr. Benton, and said: + +"Oh! Miss Emily. Little mother is so beautiful; she is always a picture. +When the artist adds to the charming portrait the dress and the little +pearls she wore to receive me, it will be so real I shall want to ask it +to speak to me, and when she leaves me I can look at it, and in my heart +hear her say 'Louis my dear boy.' You love her very much, do you not, +Emily?" + +"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "do not talk so, everybody says she is too good +and beautiful to live, and it is a thought too bitter, I cannot bear +it." + +He turned the conversation into another channel, and talked so strongly +about his great desire to master this art of painting, while I wondered +to myself how it had happened that these hearts were gathered to our +own and had become members of our household, coming, as they did, like +rare exotics, to live and blossom among us plain hollyhocks and +dandelions. Hal I could liken to a rare flower, but then he was only one +among our number, and in all our family and friends there were none +possessing the gifts of these two souls which had come to us so +strangely. + +Aunt Hildy said, "The ways of life are past all comprehending." I +thought so too. Christmas came on Sunday in this year of our Lord +eighteen-hundred-and-forty-two, and for this I rejoiced and was glad. +When it came on a week-day, it seemed like Sunday, and although now and +then we had some really interesting sermons, there was not enough to +fill two sabbaths coming so near together, and it gave me a restless +sort of feeling, especially so, when I knew how quiet and solemn my +father used to be all day, and also his great desire that we should +imitate him. + +I had been a member of our old church three years, and while I desired +to live a Christian life, I could never feel that a long face, and +solemnly pronounced words made any difference in my real life. Father +did not believe any more in long faces than I did, still, I think from +fear of neglecting any part of his duty, he maintained a serious +demeanor from the break of our Sabbath days to their close. He had an +unusually beautiful way of asking a blessing that always gave me a happy +feeling. He merely said in a pleasant way, and with open eyes: "We +should be very thankful for this meal; may we have wisdom to prepare no +unsavory dishes, and strength to earn for ourselves, and others if +necessary, the bread we daily need." This gave us a thought (that never +grew old with me) of the needs of our neighbor, and also seemed so +rational, and fitted our needs so perfectly. Aunt Hildy called it a +common-sense blessing. I remember well how she spoke of it, in contrast +with Deacon Grover's long-drawn-out table prayers, saying with emphasis; +"The man, if he is a deacon, has a right to grow better, and we know he +asks God to bless things cattle couldn't eat." + +Christmas, we all went to church, and although it was more than a mile, +aunt Hildy refused to ride. + +"Let me walk as long as I can, time enough to ride by and by, and I'm +only fifty-eight years old, Mr. Minot," she said. + +It was useless to urge her, and she came into church a few minutes later +than we did, and sat in her own pew next ours. This church was an +old-time affair, having been built by the early settlers. It had, as all +those old churches had, square pews, a stove in its central portion with +huge arms of pipe that stretched embracingly in all ways; and its pulpit +was so high that I prevailed on father to sit back from the centre as +far as we could and be comfortably warm, for it was breaking ones' neck +to look at the minister, and the sermon was half lost if you could not +see the play of his features. Our worship was of the Presbyterian order, +and our present pastor a worthy man. This was all the church that +belonged to us really. In the village which nestled in the valley two +and a half miles south-west of us, like a child in the lap of its +mother, there were three churches, Baptist, Methodist, and +Presbyterian, and many who attended our old church would have liked +better to go to one of those, and at times did so, but it was quite a +ride in winter, and for this reason our church was better filled at this +season than in the summer days. + +A new branch of belief had latterly developed itself somewhat in our +neighborhood, and this embraced the thought of universal salvation. +There had been meetings held at the houses of some of our friends, and +once or twice mother and myself had attended. + +The sermon on this Christmas day did me no good, for our minister chose +for his subject false doctrines, and the pointed allusions and +personalities savored greatly of a spirit that was not calculated to +remind us of the humble Nazarene and his lowly spirit. + +Tearing the roof down over our heads would not give one an idea of a +comfortable home; and surely charity's mantle should at least cover the +sins of ignorance, and that certainly was the hardest verdict we could +render against those of our number who had become interested in these +ideas, for that they were good and true people appeared from their +doctrines. The only difference was this: That the love of God was so +great for his children that not one of them would be lost or cast into +the terrible fires, which, according to our old belief, burned for the +guilty through endless time. And now as I reflect I can surely see it +was more through fear of being thus cast off, and not because I could +put my hand on anything so terribly wicked in myself or my acts, that I +early desired and had communication with the church. Somehow I felt more +secure to know I was approved of by men, and my name enrolled on the +church list. As I grew older this was a troublesome thought that now and +then, asked for a hearing. As we came out of church, Deacon Grover with +his small black eyes peering into aunt Hildy's face, said to her: + +"Smart sermon; good talk, Miss Patten, how did you enjoy it?" + +"Well as I could," and I nearly laughed in his face, although I knew he +did not realize what she meant. She never liked fiery sermons, as she +called them, and believed that the only way to heap coals of fire on the +head of the unrighteous, was by living so rightly as to make them +ashamed of their ways and do better. Mr. Benton and Louis walked with +Ben and aunt Hildy, and our ride home was a nearly silent one. I knew my +father had not been any more edified than myself, but it was not his way +to talk of it, and not until the next evening was the subject mentioned. +The fire of reproof was begun by your humble servant, and I said many +things which were unnecessary, and expressed my determination to +investigate the new doctrine. If father had been with us I should have +spoken less freely, and as it was I shocked my mother and almost myself, +so severely did I denounce the minister. Louis sat in silence, also his +mother, but aunt Hildy spoke as follows, after waiting a few moments to +see if any one else had pent up wrath to give vent to: + +"Well, as the youngest has spoke, I suppose I may express my feelin's, +and I must say I never heerd a worse sermon. I have been a steddy +meetin-goer for forty years, and have tried to hold a peaceful spirit +that would be jest such as the Master would recommend if he was among +us; but I believe we all allow we are sinners more or less, and after +all do daily the things we should not do. Still if anybody wanted my +help, I should hate to have 'em chase me with a broomstick, for I +couldn't do a thing for 'em if they did; and if we think anybody is +going into a ditch of a wrong idee, we'd better not scare 'em to death +hollerin at 'em, it would be apt to send 'em in head first, while if we +could kinder creep along behind, and speak a few words kindly, they +would turn round, and we could tell 'em of their danger." Her similes +were original, and we involuntarily smiled an approval of her sentiment, +when Mr. Benton said: + +"Do you not think the fear of hell helps to hold people in the right +path sometimes, Mrs. Patten?" Aunt Hildy looked at him with a wondrous +light in her eyes, as she answered: + +"_No, sir_, I don't; my Bible says perfect love casteth out fear. The +woman that's afraid of her husband can't love him if she dies for it, +and the boy who hates his father through fear, can't muster up respect +enough to love him if he tries." And her knitting needles clicked again +as if to say, "that's the truth." + +A few moments and then Clara spoke (Aunt Hildy stopped knitting the +moment she began, as if expecting a treat). "We are taught," she said, +"that our Father loves us; that he rejoices with great joy in the return +of a prodigal to his fold. The truth that he loves us better than we can +ever love each other here, that none of us shall ask for bread and +receive a stone, neither fish and receive a serpent, was spoken to us +from the ages past. Christ came into the world as the bearer of all +essential truths. His enemies, the Jews, knew he told the truth and +hastened to crucify him, saying in plain words--'If he live, all men +will believe on him, crucify him, crucify him,' and it was done, but he +left behind him the great token of his love, and he hath said, +'Whosoever believeth on me, even though he were dead yet shall he live,' +etc. If we can understand him, he means us all, every child of our +Father, and are we not all his? The law of Moses was buried when the law +of Christ was given, which is the law of our omnipotent Father. I am +ready," and down her cheeks tears coursed their way; "I do so want to +know more of this beautiful faith, for it has ever been my own; I say to +you to-night and I have already said it to my heavenly Father, I will +yield my life, if I can help the poor, tired hearts, the needy souls of +men, to embrace this glorious truth, 'Love ye one another.'" Tears +filled the eyes of all save those of Wilmur Benton, who sat as if +covered with astonishment, and I could see that he was puzzled; and if +he spoke his thought might have said, "What manner of woman is this, and +how can I touch the strings of her heart." + +Clara's eyes grew large and full of light as she continued: + +"I care not for the name, for what manner of difference can that +make--we are to be known and know each other by and by; we can and +should have our heaven below; we can and should have love for one and +all; and while my loyal friend Emily speaks harshly of the minister, +who, fearing a new path before some of his people, feels it his duty to +not only call, but drive them back into the square pen of the old ideas; +yet we must not condemn him, neither measure his heart exactly by the +words of his text or sermon. The circumference of the tree is more than +three times its diameter, and yet we know the width of the board we use +is found in the diameter. Words are a circumference which encircle the +breadth of a diameter, and we may feel and know that this man, standing +as he does within the bounds of a belief whose main foundation embraces +the two thoughts, heaven and misery, cannot, if he believes this to be +true, do less than urge it upon us all. But if we stop and think, we can +say, perhaps the heart of this religious tree he represents may not be +sound, and when the axe of advancing ideas trims its branches and buries +its blade within its trunk, we shall, as I believe, have proof of this; +and then, perhaps his eyes will turn with ours to the outstretched arms +of a noble oak, whose leaves are green, whose heart is sound, and at +whose base we all may gather, against whose sides we all may rest. It +has waited long, and grown in our father's forest until at last its +giant dimensions have been apparent. The leaves of its upper branches +caught the eye of a ranger on truth's high mountain, and the underbrush +must now be cut away to make a path for our feet. Let the winds +annihilate the dogmas of a creed, let our hearts open to all good +thoughts, and let this one also be as the anchor of our souls, this +glorious thought of our Father's love, this binding together of his +children. Patience and work both are needed: will not my dear boy help +me? I know he will, and our Emily; God give to me the help I need from +these two young hearts," and she held out her hands to us. + +I said "Oh, Clara!" and sank on the floor beside her, put my head in her +lap, and let the tears fall as they would, unmindful of all else save my +dear, beautiful friend. Louis sat on the other side of her with his arm +around her waist, and her head lay on his shoulder. The curtain of the +evening slowly fell, and in slumbers I drew her thoughts close to my +heart, Aunt Hildy's "God help us" floating like music through my +dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE NEW FAITH. + + +"Emily will help me!" Oh, how those words haunted me! I would help her; +yes, if I could, but when should I ever stop making blunders, when +should I lose the impetuous nature that drove me too often on the beach +of thought, with shipwrecked sentences that fell far short of my +thought, and expressed nothing of my real self. Why was it, as I grew +older, I came to realize, that if I had been born a little later, it +would have been easier? I was standing on tip-toe trying in vain to +touch that which lay beyond my reach; of course I must be constantly +falling, and the security of growth I could not then wait for. I must +keep reaching and falling, covering myself with disappointments, while +in the hearts if not on the lips of those about me must rest the same +old words, "Emily did it." + +Clara says I can do something, and having grown to feel that her words +were almost prophecy, I felt sure there was something ahead, and +repeated again and again, "Emily will do it." Mr. Benton was looking +beyond his depth, and still did not hesitate to try and swim across the +difficult waters that lay between himself and Clara, and before Louis +left us, something occurred which I must tell about. I had been called +over the hill on an errand, was obliged to go alone, and was then +detained somewhat, and when I came back, Louis met me, and taking my +arm, said: + +"Walk slowly, I have something I must say." + +I thought of Clara at once, and it was a true impression, for he said: + +"My little mother is in trouble; I have heard what I would never know if +I could avoid it--Professor Benton has been telling her that he loves +her. He has forced this upon her, I know, for these are his words to +which I unwillingly listened: 'Why, Mrs. Desmonde, do you shun me, why +turn you eyes whenever they meet my own, why call Miss Minot to your +side when an opportunity presents for us to be alone together? I cannot +be baffled in my love for you; no woman has ever before touched the +secret spring of my heart, no voice has ever reached my soul--yours is +music to me; and, Mrs. Desmonde, I need great love and sympathy; I am +not all I want to be; my lot in life has been in some respects very hard +to bear; I never knew my mother's love, and when old enough to desire +the companionship man needs, I had an experience which killed the flower +of my affection--I thought its roots were as dead as its leaves, until I +met you. Oh! Mrs. Desmonde, do you not, can you not return this feeling? +My life is in your hands.' It was hard for my little mother, and I stood +riveted to the spot, Emily, expecting to be obliged to enter and catch +her fainting form, for I knew in my heart each word was a thorn, but +here is her reply:" + +"Professor Benton, I had hoped to be spared this pain, I have avoided +you, because I could do no other way. I am so sorry! I can never, never +love you as you desire! I have a husband--my Louis Robert waits for me +in heaven, and he is my constant guide here. He will always be near me +while I tarry, and I have no love to give you in return for yours. I can +be your good friend always, I can help you as one mortal helps another. +I can call you a brother, and I can be your sister; but do not dream +falsely. I shall not learn to love you; my heart is full, and it is +through no fault of mine that you have raised false hopes in your bosom, +but I am very sorry--more sorry than I can tell you." + +"Is that all, and is it final?" I heard him say. + +"It is all that I can ever say," she said. + +"I drew back from the door, and, passing through your middle room, came +into my own, in time to see Professor Benton step into Halbert's studio. +I entered then the room where little mother sat, and held her in my arm +awhile, saying no word to her of what I had heard. She was not +exhausted, and after a little time I left her to come and meet you. Tell +me, Emily, if you know about it--has she said anything to you?" + +Of course I told him all, and then added her, "'Say no word to Louis,' +but under these circumstances she could not blame me, could she, Louis?" + +"No, no, Emily," he replied, "but what can we do?" + +"I do not know," I said, and he added: + +"Do you like Professor Benton?" + +"I cannot see anything in him to like very much, Louis," I replied; +"when I met him in Hal's sick-room, he seemed really beautiful. His eyes +looked so large and dreamy, and he had such sympathy for Hal, and I +like him now, for that, but otherwise he jars me so I say all sorts of +uncomfortable things, and his talk always irritates me. No, I could not +imagine your mother loving him, for she is so much better than I am, and +I could never love him in the world." + +Louis' hold on my arm tightened, and he said: + +"Ah! Miss Emily, you are beginning to know yourself, you are learning to +understand others, and I am glad," and to his eyes came again that +earnest look, "for I long to be known by you; I have brought you a +Christmas present, and the New Year is at hand before I give it to +you--wear this in the dark, until your heart says you love me, then let +the light fall on it." + +He put a box in my hand, and when I opened it in my own room I found a +small and finely linked chain of gold, and attached to it a locket +holding Louis' picture. One side was inlaid with blue enamel in a spray +of flowers, and on the other the name "Emily." My heart told me that I +did love Louis, and then there came so many changeful thoughts, that I +felt myself held back, and could not express myself to Louis. + +This evening was spent in our middle room, and Mr. Benton, being obliged +to write letters, was not with us. Of this I was glad, for it gave +relief to the three who were cognizant of what had passed. The subject +of universal salvation was again brought before us, and this time my +mother expressed herself greatly in favor of giving the new thoughts a +hearing, and to my utter astonishment and pleasure, my father proposed +going sometime to hear the Reverend Hosea Ballou, who was then +preaching over his society in Boston, and came sometimes to preach for +the few in a town lying to the north and east of us. There were no +houses of worship dedicated to the Universalists nearer than the one I +speak of, and though it was a ride of ten miles, that was nothing for a +span of good horses. + +"When can we go?" rose to my lips quickly. + +"Are you also desirous of hearing him, Emily?" + +"Oh, father!" I said, "I want something beside the fire of torment to +think of. You know the Bible says, 'He that is guilty in one point, is +guilty of the whole.' If that is true, father, I am not safe; but if +these new thoughts are truths, I am; and can you blame me if I want to +know about it. I am afraid I knew very little of what I needed when I +was united to our church." + +"It is not singular, Emily," my father said, "and I desire only to help +you, if you really want to know. We need not fear to investigate, for if +the doctrines are erroneous, they are too far below our own standard of +truth to harm even the soles of our feet, and if they are true, it must +be they lie beyond us, and we shall feel obliged to reach for them, and +be glad of the opportunity. Halbert, have you nothing to say? are you to +go with us? the three-seated wagon will hold us all." + +"Yes," added mother, "and we will take our dinner and go to cousin +Belinda Sprague's to eat it." + +Halbert looked a little puzzled and then replied: + +"I guess the rest of you may go the first time, and I will stay at home +with Will (Mr. Benton), for I know he would as soon stay at home as +go." + +Then said Ben, "Let me go, father, I'm young and I need starting right; +don't you think so?" + +We all laughed at this, and my father looked with fondness at his boy, +as he answered: + +"Ben, it shall be, and a week from next Sabbath, the day, if nothing +happens." + +I believe it was a relief to my father, this hope that there might be +something more beautiful beyond than he had dared to dream; and Clara +was absorbed with the prospect of his getting hold of the truth, which, +though unnamed by her, had always been, it seemed, her firm belief. She +said nothing to me of what had occurred, and the days wore on until the +morning came when Louis said "good-bye," and left us for school. + +Directly after his departure, Aunt Phebe (mother's sister) wrote us she +was coming to visit us for a few days. Of this I was glad, and I +rehearsed to Clara her virtues, told her of her early years, the sorrows +which she had borne, the working early and late to maintain the little +family of four children (for at the age of twenty-eight she was left +widowed and alone in a strange city). Her native town was not far +distant from the one in which we lived, and when she came I expected a +treat, for together these two sisters unshrouded the past, took off the +veil of years that covered their faces, and walked back, hand in hand, +to their childhood--its years, its loves, its friends, its home--and it +was never an old tale to me. + +I loved to hear of grandfather Lewis, who went as minister's waiter in +the War of Seventy-six, going with old Minister Roxford, whose name has +been, and is still to be handed down through generations as a good old +man of Connecticut. Grandfather was only sixteen years at that time, and +though he saw no hard service, but was dressed up in ruffled shirt, +etc., received through life a pension of ninety-six dollars per year, +having enlisted for a period of six months, whereas some of his friends, +who saw hard service, and came out of the contest maimed for life, +received nothing. + +Grandfather was of French extraction, and he boasted largely of this, +but I could not feel very proud of the fact that he traded with the +British, carrying to them hams, dried beef, poultry, and anything in +shape of edibles, receiving in return beautiful silk stockings, bandanna +handkerchiefs, and the tea that the old ladies were so glad to get. +Several times he was nearly captured, and once thrust into a stone wall, +in the town of Stratford, a quantity of silk stockings, with which his +pockets were filled. He was so closely pursued at that time, that he lay +down close to a large log and covered himself with dead leaves, and one +of his pursuers, a moment after, stood on that very log and peered into +the distance, saying, "I wonder which track the scamp took." + +I must not tell you more about this grandfather, whose history filled me +full of wonder, but must hasten on to meet Aunt Phebe, who came +according to appointment, and found a warm reception. She had a fine +face, was tall and well-formed, her hair was a light-brown, and her eyes +a bright, pure blue; she had a pleasant mouth and evenly set teeth, and +she was a sweet singer. She is yet living, and sings to-day a "Rose tree +in full blooming" with as sweet a cadence as when I was a child. + +Clara was drawn toward her, and brought some of her best thoughts to the +surface; read to her some of her own little poems, and wrote one for +her, speaking tenderly of the past and hopefully of the future. Aunt +Phebe had a nature to appreciate the beautiful, and ought herself to +have been given the privilege of a later day, that she might have +expressed her own good and true thoughts. She was a member of the +Baptist church, and while we had no fear of condemnation from her lips, +we knew she had not as yet tested this new thought that was now +agitating our minds. She said she would like to go with us to hear +"Father Ballou," as he was called by the Universalist people, and Clara, +said: + +"Well, Mrs. ----, the day is coming when all shall see and rejoice at +the knowledge they have long desired; this will be the real fruit that +has been promised by the hope of the soul for years; and it is not new, +it is an old, old truth, and for this reason there will be less +preparation needed to accept it. The soil is ready, and the hand of the +age will drop the seed in the furrows which the years have made." + +"This talk is as good as a sermon," said Aunt Phebe, "I would like to +hear you every week. Learning the work of wisdom is not an easy task, +and all these thoughts come as helping hands to us; we are never too old +to learn." + +Aunt Phebe was free from all vanity; she dressed simply, and was truly +economical. Her hands were never idle; she had always something to do; +and during the few days she spent with us she insisted on helping. A +huge basket of mending yielded to her deft hands, and patches and darns +were made without number. These were among our great necessities, for, +as in every other household, garments were constantly wearing out, and +stitches breaking that must be again made good, and nothing could be +appreciated more than her services in this direction. Mother felt, +however, that she was doing wrong to let her work at all. + +"Phebe," I heard her say one afternoon, as they sat in our middle room +together, "you have stitches enough to take at home, and I feel +condemned to see you so busy here. You should have every moment to rest +in; I wish you could stay longer, for I believe when these carpet rags +are cut you will find nothing more to do, and then we could rest and +talk together. How I wish Sally and Polly and Thirza could be with us, +and our brothers too! Have you heard from Peter lately?" + +"I heard only a few days before I left; one of the girls came down, and +she said Peter was well, but oh, how they miss their own mother! Peter's +first wife was the best mother I ever knew; those little girls looked as +neat as pins, with their blue and iron-rust dresses, and she taught them +to do so much--not half do it, but to finish what they began. I think of +her with reverence, for her ways were in accordance with her ideas of +duty, and she was no ordinary woman. It seems too bad she could not have +lived." + +And Aunt Phebe sighed, and then added: + +"You ask what makes me work? Work has been my salvation. In the needs of +others I have forgotten my own terrible experiences, and although the +first time I washed a bedquilt I said 'I can never do that thing +again,' I have since then washed many; and done also the thousand kinds +of work that only a woman can do. Force of circumstances has made me +self-reliant, and so long as I can work I am not lonely, and if there +comes a day when the labor of my hands is less needed, I shall be only +too glad to take the time for reading I so much desire." + +"Oh, Phebe!" said my mother, "I often think of you as you were when +young; slender and lithe as a willow, with a cheek where the rose's +strength did not often gather; and then I think of all you have done +since, and looking at you to-day, you seem to me a perfect marvel; for +you have lived, and borne hard work and sorrow, and your face is fresh, +your fingers taper as of old, and on your cheek is the tinge of pink +that becomes you so well. You are only five years younger than I, and +you look every day of twenty; you may outlive me--yes, I'm sure you +will." + +There was silence for a few moments, and then Aunt Phebe said: + +"Speaking of work makes me think to tell you about an old colored man +who came to my door last winter. He was so cold he could hardly talk, +but seeing some coal before the door wanted to put it in for me. I asked +him in, and he grew warmer after a little. I made a cup of hot +composition tea for him, and while he was putting in the coal hunted up +an old coat that one of our neighbors had given me for carpet rags, and +when the poor old man told me his story I felt like proclaiming it to +the city. Never mind that now. He lived through the winter and did not +freeze, and last summer found considerable work, but I have thought for +some time how valuable his help would be to William, my father, and I +wonder if he could find a place to live in here among you. His name is +Matthias Jones, and he is faithful though slow, but the constant +dropping, you know, wears a stone. I like the old man, and you would, +for he is honest and ambitious. He might have owned a farm himself if +the evil of slavery had not crushed under its foot the seeds of growth +that lay within him. Mr. Dutton has helped to get him work." + +"Phebe," said mother, interrupting her, "are you going to marry that Mr. +Dutton?" + +"I can't say," said Aunt Phebe, and their conversation closed, for +father came in and supper-time drew near. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MATTHIAS JONES. + + +Father was consulted regarding the coming of Matthias Jones, and he +thought it would be a good plan, for our farming people had often cause +to hire help, and it had always been scarce, since it was only in the +busiest time there were such needs. + +Aunt Phebe and myself were delegated to go over to the house of Jacob +Lattice and Plint Smith, who were the only colored people among us, and +who lived about a mile to the west of our house. We thought there might +be a chance for a home among them, and so it proved. + +Jacob Lattice's wife had no room; "hardly enough for themselves," Mrs. +Lattice said depreciatingly, "much less any place for strange folks"; +but Mrs. Smith, known to us all as Aunt Peg, gave us a little hope. She +had a peculiar way of addressing people, and sometimes her talk seemed +more like the grunting of words strangely mixed. When she saw Aunt Phebe +with me, her face radiated in smiles (and as her mouth was large, these +smiles were broad grins) and, jerking her small wool-covered head while +she hastily smoothed out her long apron, she said: + +"Come in, Miss Minot." + +"This is my aunt,--you have seen her before," I replied. + +"Yes, seen her to meetin' with ye; come in, mam," and she dropped a low +curtsey and set forward two chairs, whose sand-scoured seats were white +and spotless, for Aunt Peg was a marvel of neatness. + +I told our errand, and with one of her queer looks, she said: + +"Is he clean?" + +Aunt Phebe replied, "Why, I think the old man does the best he can, a +lone man can't do as well as a woman, you know." + +"Well, there's that ground room of mine he kin have if Plint is willin', +and if he ain't, for that matter; for Plint himself arn't good for +nothin' but fiddlin', and you see if I want bread I get it. I s'pose +wimmen ought to be a leetle worth mindin', 'specially if they get their +own bread," and a look of satisfaction crept over her face as if pleased +with this thought. + +"Well," said Aunt Phebe, "I would like to see the room, and also know +the price of it; of course, you must have some pay for it, and then, if +Matthias should be ill, or prove troublesome to you in any way, it will +not be so hard for you." + +"Oh, the pay, bless the Master, mam, I never get pay for anything +hardly, not even the work I did up to Deacon Grover's for years! I jist +wish I had that money in a chist in the cellar. He kep' it for me, he +said, an' so he did, an' he keeps it yet, and--oh! but the room, come +right along, this way, mam," and we followed her steps. + +She led us out of the little door, which in the summer was covered with +those dear old cypress vines my mother used to have, and though the +lattice was made by her own hands of rude strips, when it was well +covered with the cypress intergrown with the other vines, there was +great beauty round that little door. + +When Clara saw it, and I told her of its construction, and remarked on +Aunt Peg's love for flowers, she said: + +"Ah, Emily, it is typical of our nature! We do seem so rudely made in +the winter of our ignorance, and through the lattice of our untutored +thoughts the cold winds of different opinions blow and we are troubled. +But when the summer of our better nature dawns, and the upturned soil +catches seed, even though dropped by a careless hand, the vines of love +will cover all our coldness, and the scarlet and white blossom of our +beautiful thoughts appear among the leaves. Aunt Peg's earthly hand made +the lattice, and the love of her undying soul planted the cypress +seeds." + +I thought of it this cold winter's day, and told Aunt Phebe, as we +passed out of the door, how many flowers she had in summer and how +pretty the vines were. Aunt Peg heard me, and smiled graciously. Then we +went around to a side door, which opened into the ground room, as she +called it. + +Her house was on a bank, or at least its main part, and while a valley +lay on one side, the ground rose upon the other. The door-sill of this +room was, therefore, even with both the ground and the floor, and on +either side of it were two windows, both door and windows facing the +south. The sides and back of the room had no windows, the back partition +being that which divided it from Aunt Peg's little cellar; and the east +and west sides were hedged in by the bank which came sloping down from +both front and back doors. + +"This is a very comfortable little room," said Aunt Phebe. "Now, what +will be the rent?" + +"Well, if you are bent on payin', I don't want to say less than ten +dollars a year." + +"I would call it twelve, and that will be one dollar a month, Mrs. +Smith." + +"Thank you, mam, it'll be a great help; I have the sideache sometimes, +and can't do nothing for a day or so, not even get the wool rolls off my +wheel, and that is jist play when I'm smart: he may come neat or not +neat, Plint or no Plint," and the bargain was finished, and Matthias +Jones was to appear on, or near, the first of March. + +My rehearsal of our visit at the dinner-table provoked great mirth, and +Mr. Benton smiled on me more kindly than ever before, but I could not +but think, whenever I looked at him, that he must die pretty soon, +because Clara could not love him, and he had told her his life was +dependent on her love. + +The days of Aunt Phebe's visit drew too quickly to their close, and the +time to go came on a bright sun-shiny morning. Father carried her to the +railway station; we filled a large trunk with the farm products, so +welcome to those who live in cities. Aunt Hildy put in a bundle the +contents of which she did not even want me to guess. She was a firm +friend to Aunt Phebe, and shook her hand when she left, as if loath to +let it go, and said: + +"Come again as soon as you can, and if I am in my own little nest, come +and stay with me, and we'll have some more good sensible talk that helps +our wings to grow; we are only covered with pin-feathers so far." + +Aunt Phebe appreciated this good old soul, and said, earnestly, "God +bless you, Mrs. Patten," as my father started the horses. + +Aunt Hildy watched them until they were out of sight, saying as she came +in, "That woman will have an easier time before she dies. My Bible says, +'He that is faithful over a few things shall be made ruler over many.' +She will have a home of her own, jest as true as preachin' is preachin', +Mrs. Minot." + +"She ought to," said mother. "May the day be hastened!" and again that +never-to-be-neglected work claimed our attention. + +Since Louis' departure Clara had had several "pale" days, as she called +them. After Aunt Phebe left us, she seemed to grow weak. I felt worried, +and could not refrain from asking her what troubled her. She turned her +beautiful eyes full on me, and putting both her hands in mine, said: + +"I know that Louis heard it, and that he told you, and your secret +sympathy has been a strength to me. It will pass over, Emily, but +Professor Benton is not satisfied. He will not be content that I may not +answer his demand for love. Yes, Emily, his words were soft, but a blade +was beneath them and I could feel that it would have cut my +heart-strings. I thank our Father that I do not love him; I should be so +starved. Emily, I can love your brother,--no, no, not with that best +love," she said quickly, noting, I suppose, the look of wonder in my +eyes, "but I can have that love for him that is founded on great respect +and faith in his pure heart. It is only their art draws them together; +they are not alike, and they will not come too near. The days will +sunder them, and it will be better that they should. But, Emily, I must, +I fear, call Louis back to give me strength. He is a great help to me. +On his heart as on his arm I can rest myself, and I need him so much. I +cannot tell you now, but you will know some time when you are no longer +as strong as now, how the spirit feels the darts that are shot from the +mind of another, and bury their poisoned points in the quivering life." + +She looked so weak as she spoke, her face was so transparently white, +that I trembled with fear. + +That night we slept together--she alone slept, however, for my eyes were +open, their lids refusing to close until after midnight, and it was long +after that hour before I fully lost consciousness. I felt wretched the +next day in both body and mind, and my spirit was roused within me. + +"I will avert it," I said to myself--thinking first to ask mother how, +and afterward saying aloud "No, I'll do it myself, Emily will do it," +and the harder I thought the faster I worked. + +I never washed the dishes so quickly; milkpans were despatched speedily +to the buttery shelves, and at last Aunt Hildy, who was kneading bread, +stopped, and looking at me, said: + +"What on airth are you going to do? you work as if you was a gettin' +reddy to go to a weddin', or somethin'--Is there doins on hand among the +folks?" + +"No, mam," I replied, "but I have been so full of thoughts I could not +help hurrying." + +"I hope you're on the right track, Emily; sometimes ideas that stir one +up so aint jest the kind we ought to have." + +"I'm on the track of truth, Aunt Hildy, and that is the right track." + +"Well, it ought to be, but sometimes truth has to wait for sin to get by +before it can move an inch. I've seen it so many a time," and a sort of +sigh fluttered to her lips, but the look of resolution that followed it +closely gave it no time to linger, and the lines about her mouth grew +firm as she resumed her bread-kneading. + +Clara was better during this day, and while she took her after-dinner +nap, I came quickly down into Hal's studio, and seated myself in his +chair with a book. + +Hal was in town all day on business, and I expected Mr. Benton to be +there, and he appeared, saying: + +"You look very comfortable, Miss Minot; am I an intruder?" + +"No, sir, you are the person I wish of all others to talk to." Where was +my guardian angel then? + +"In need of advice, are you?" + +"No, sir, not at all; I have some to give, however," and his eyes opened +widely, as he seated himself almost directly opposite me on a lounge, +taking a very artistic position, with his head resting on his hand, and +his arm supported by that of the lounge. + +"Proceed, Miss Minot, for I assure you I am much in need of comfort, and +if you had been ready before, I might have been thankful to receive it." + +I had begun more abruptly than I meant, and already felt I was stepping +on dangerous ground. I thought for an instant I would turn it aside in a +joke, then Clara's pale face rose before, and I said impetuously: + +"I came to speak for another, though without her authority or knowledge. +I desire to ask you not to trouble Clara, by persisting in your suit." + +He started to his feet as if a hand had struck him, walked a few steps, +and then turned toward me with a blanched face, and eyes that seemed to +be leaping from their sockets; he was struggling between anger and +policy. The latter prevailed, as he said: + +"You are much interested in me; you fear that I shall have a friend. Is +that it?" + +"I suggested nothing of that kind; I fear my lovely Clara may die." He +smiled derisively. + +"Am I then such a monster that I am feared? Really, Miss Minot, your +picture of me is rather different from anything I have before known." + +"I ought to have known you would not understand me. It would have been +equal folly for me to try to explain Clara's nature to you, for you do +not and cannot appreciate it." + +"We are getting into deep water," he interrupted, but I continued: + +"I have never called you a monster and have treated you as well as I +knew how to. You were my brother's friend, I have not doubted your +esteem for Clara, for how can any see her without loving and respecting +her; that is not the point. Your feelings, she has told you, she cannot +reciprocate; why can you not respect her feelings, even at the sacrifice +of your own? If you would do this, Mr. Benton, you would be stronger." + +"Miss Minot, you are braver than I imagined. Let me disarm your fear; I +have no intention of intruding myself where I am not desired. How you +came in possession of these interesting facts is a mystery (insinuating, +I felt, that I had been eavesdropping). Nevertheless I admit them all, +and I admire you greatly. You are, however, as impulsive as a changeful +sea, and you made little preparation for this conversation. Allow me to +suggest that in affairs of the heart you should be a little less stormy. +I am your friend, and I say this in kindness." + +"I thank you, sir; you have lived longer than I have, and I know by the +expression in your eye to-day that you can, if you choose, govern all +the love in your nature at the will of your intellect; I cannot, and I +never want to; I like to be impulsive, I like to be true, I hate +policy." As I spoke, my eyes were, I know, like dark fires. + +He looked like a man of marble as he said, "Your fears are ungrounded; +you might have spared yourself this trouble," and turning, left me. + +"There, 'Emily did it,' and didn't do it all," I said to myself. "Now he +will be more determined than ever, Clara will die, Louis will hate me, +and I shall be bereft doubly. Oh! dear, dear! Emily mistakes--my name +should be." Then the tears came and I sat with my face buried in my +hands, and cried like a child. A hand touched me, an arm crept round +me, "Hal," I said, starting. + +"No," said Wilmur Benton in his sweeter tone, "It is I." + +"Oh!" I screamed almost, making an attempt to rise, but his arm held me +firmly as he said: + +"Forgive me, Miss Minot, if I have caused you pain--I spoke harshly, I +fear." + +"You are forgiven," I said, "let me go." + +"You are my friend still?" he asked. + +"Yes, yes," I said quickly, "do let me go," and I fled to my own room, +and endeavored to wash away the stains of tears, to make my appearance +down stairs, for it was already late and mother would be looking for me. + +I felt unlike myself and feared all would discern my uneasiness. Mr. +Benton had, I knew, a mistaken idea, and his polite attentions were +torture to me; he evidently thought my tears needed his commiseration, +whereas, I was only sorry I had not delivered a forcible speech in +Clara's behalf, and caused him (as I had intended) to realize the +necessity of a change in his conduct toward her. I expected him to be +vexed with me and was willing he should be, if it would relieve Clara. +Now, however, he seemed to feel I was entitled to his sympathy. There +was one thought, however, that gave relief; while he was occupying +himself with me, Clara would not be annoyed. Mother said she had a +basket to send to Aunt Peg, and I volunteered to take it. Mr. Benton +smilingly said: + +"Let me accompany you, Miss Minot, it will be quite dark ere you +return." + +"I am not afraid, thank you, and it will be moonlight," then thinking +of Clara I added, "still I might encounter an assassin on the road." + +This did not help the matter any, and only furthered the mistaken +thought of Mr. Benton; nevertheless for the sake of that dear friend, +for whom I knew I could have borne anything, I had, after all, a secret +delight, in being misunderstood. I was a willing martyr to a just cause, +and we started together. + +"Take my arm, Miss Minot." + +"Thank you, walking is second nature to me, and very easy," I replied. + +After walking a little further he said, "I am very glad of this +opportunity to talk with you, Miss Minot; I fear, from what I gathered +in our talk of this afternoon, your idea of me is one which I would fain +alter--it is not pleasant to feel that one is misjudged--" + +"I know that," I interrupted. + +--"And especially when the charge is a serious one. I cannot understand +why I was so feared; rude enough I must have seemed, and your first +words gave me a shock; I hardly know now how to explain it, and what I +desire is light. Pray tell me by what act of mine, you came to such an +unwarrantable conclusion." + +"It was no act of yours at all. Common sense, I suppose, told me you +would not be foiled if you could help it. All men are selfish." + +"Are not women?" + +"No, sir," I replied, "they are foolish." + +"Excuse the question, but has Mrs. Desmonde complained to you?" + +"No, sir," I said quickly--that was a little story and then again it was +not, I reasoned. + +"So I must conclude that you feared for the safety of your friend, +reading, as you thought you did, the terrible selfishness of my heart. + +"I guess that is about right," I said. + +"You admit this as a fact?" + +"Yes; before a judge, if you desire," I said. + +"That being the case, let me here say from my heart I am not as much in +love with Mrs. Desmonde as I might be, and one reason is that I find her +more and more enveloped in the strange fancies peculiar, I judge, to +herself alone." + +"What am I to understand from this? Strange fancies, indeed! If truth +and love are strange fancies, she is indeed enveloped. My darling Clara! +She is a light leading to the eternal city. I knew you could not +understand her." + +"Well, Miss Minot, let me explain. I know she is graceful, and +beautiful, and truly good, but none can know positively there is an +eternal city, and I must say I do not feel interested in the dreamy +talk, which is, after all, only talk." + +"Goodness!" I exclaimed, "are you an infidel?" + +"I cannot vouch for anything beyond this life." + +"If I felt I could not, I'd commit suicide to-morrow." + +He laughed heartily at this, and, as we were at Aunt Peggy's door, could +not answer until we turned toward home, when he said: + +"Instead of taking my life, I desire to keep it as long as I can, and +get all the enjoyment possible on this side the grave. I hope I have +made myself understood, and disarmed every fear of your friendly heart." + +"The days will tell," I replied, and our walk at last was ended. + +It had been thoroughly uncomfortable to me, although he had seemed to be +enjoying every step. I went to my room that night, and in my dreams +tried to find the garden of Eden somewhere in our town, while a snake, +with eyes like Wilmur Benton's, seemed to be crawling close behind me, +and with the daybreak, I said: + +"That dream means something." + +Aunt Peg told me she should go to work and clean up the ground-room, and +if father had any old "chunks of wood he could spare, Plint could come +over and get 'em, and when that new nigger came, there'd be a prospect +awaitin'." + +I carried the message, and father thought it would be a good plan to +have Matthias Jones appear, as he had more wood cut in the forest than +he could haul with Ben's help, and doubtless this poor man would be glad +of the job. Mother said the room could be made ready, she thought, +inasmuch as there was an extra high-post bedstead in our attic chamber. +Aunt Hilda added, "I've got a good feather mattress to put on it, and a +straw-bed is easily fixed." + +So I wrote a letter to Aunt Phebe, and Plint came over for the chunks of +wood, riding back on a load of things we had gathered. When the +ground-room was ready for occupancy, it was not a cheerless place. A +nicely-made bed in its north-west corner, a deal table at the east side +of the room, two rush-bottomed chairs, and a straight-backed rocker, +two breadths of carpet lying through its centre, the wide-mouthed +fireplace, with well-filled wood-box at its right hand,--all savored of +comfort. To cap the climax, Clara put up to the windows some half +curtains of unbleached cotton, bound with bright French red. It really +looked nice, and Aunt Peg said: "I do hope, mam, he's clean." + +The days sped on quickly, and Clara felt better. Mr. Benton had +evidently dropped all thought of her, and his uniformly kind treatment +of us, began, after a little, to make me feel ashamed of the suspicions +which had crossed my mind. Letters from Louis came as usual, and I wish +I could give them now--such beautifully-expressed thoughts, such tender +touches did he give to his word pictures, that I read and re-read them. +Treasures they were, and I have them all yet; not one but is too sacred +to lose. My heart grew strong in its love for him, and his thoughts were +all as hands reaching for my own. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE TEACHING OF HOSEA BALLOU. + + +February first brought Matthias Jones. Father met him at the village, +and our curiosity which was aroused regarding this new comer, was +thoroughly gratified at his appearance. A better specimen of a southern +negro was never seen. He was above the medium size, broad-shouldered; +his hair thick and wooly, sprinkled with grey, and covering a large, +flat surface on the top of his head. His nose was of extra size, mouth +in proportion, and his eyes, which were not dull, expressed considerable +feeling, and you would know when you looked at them he was honest. His +gait was slow, slouchy as I called it, and, as he walked leisurely along +the path, Ben whispered, "My soul, what feet!" Sure enough, they seemed +to stretch back too far, and they were immense. + +He took supper with us, and then father and Ben both went over to his +future home with him, and introduced him to Aunt Peg and Plint. He was +to work for father, and would be over in the "mornin'," he said. + +"I wonder if he was a slave, Emily?" said Ben. + +"I think so," said I. "We will question him to-morrow if we get a +chance," and we did, for the day was stormy, and father did not go to +the woods, but kept Matthias at work in the barn cleaning up, etc. About +four o'clock his work was finished, and we invited him to come in and +sit awhile. + +"Now, Ben," I said, and we seated ourselves for a conference. + +"Mr. Jones," said I, "you came from the South, did you?" + +"'Pears like I did, Miss, an' it's a mighty cool country yere; I'm nigh +froze in de winter, I is sartin." + +"Were you a slave?" + +"Yes'm," and the old man gave a long sigh. + +"Would you mind telling us about it? Ben and I never saw a person before +from the South." + +"Never did? There's a heap on 'em, wud 'jes like ter see ye. Long time +awaitin', but de promise ov de Massa mus' be true," and again a +thoughtful look came over his dusky face. "I don't mind tellin' ye a +little if I ken. I was a slave in Carlina, an' I had a good massa, Miss; +a fus-rate man, but he done tuk sick an' died, an' then--wh-e-ew," and +he gave a long, low whistle, "thar cum sich a time thar; de ole woman +she done no nuthin' 'bout de biznis, an' de big son he sell all de +niggers an' get _all_ de money, an' dars whar my trubbel begin. De nex' +massa had de debbil fur his father, sure; nothin' go rite; made me go +an' marry, fus thing, an' to a gal I didn't like, nohow. Little niggers +come along, an' I done bes' I cud by 'em, but what cud I do? Nothin' at +all; an' fus thing I knew--he'd done gone an' sold ebery one ob dat +family, and den he mus' hab me marry agin. Dis secon' marriage was +better'n that; fur I did like de gal mighty well. 'Pears like we's +gwine to take sum comfort, and when we'd had de meetins to our cabin, +oh! how we did jes pray fur dat freedom we hear'm tell 'bout--pray mos' +too loud, for dat old Mas'r Sumner tink we's alltogeder too happy, an' +den, he up and sold dat pretty gal ob ourn, what was jes risin' uv her +fourth year, Miss, an' as pretty as could be. Dis broke my wife's heart, +an' den he sold one more to a trader; and not long fur de wife an' two +last' chilun was gone. Den I jes swore rite up, Miss--rite into dat +Masr's face an' eyes--'I'm neber gwine to hab no more chilun,' an' he +says to me, 'Matt, you got to do jes as I say,' an' I swear agin, an' he +cuss and swear, an' then, I got sich a floggin'--Miss, but I didn't +keer, an' I would never done as dat man sed, an' I 'spected to die, but +a New Orleans trader cum dat way, an' I was sold, and Mas'r Sumner said, +de las' thing, 'You'll get killed now, Matt.' 'All right, Mas'r,' I sed, +'de Lord is a waitin' an' He's a good fren, too,' an' off I went. Dar we +wur in a pen in New Orleans, waitin' fur we didn't know what, an' on +come a fever an' dat trader know he's got to die. Den, to make peace wid +de Lord at the las't jump he done giv us all freedom, an' money to git +us into dat great city ov New York; an' mine lasted me clean up to Misse +Hungerford's door (Aunt Phebe), an' las' night, when I see dat nice room +over thar an' that good fire, oh! my," and the old man buried his face +in his hands and wept like a child, then looking up, he said, "Ef I cud +only ahad my chilun in thar; 'pears de Lord Himself might ahelped me a +minnit sooner--but dey is gone, all done gone, an' 'taint no use." + +"You may meet them again, Mr. Jones; I hope we shall know each other +there in that better country, and if we do you'll surely know and find +them." + +"Oh! Miss, that's the bery thing, it takes a load right off yere, when I +think about it," and he laid his hand on his heart, "but I'd better be +shufflin' off home, an' I'll tell you a heap more sometime," and as he +went through the yard, I heard him singing "dat New Je-ru-sa-lem," +prolonging the last word, as if it was too musical to lose. + +I told it all to Clara, and she said: + +"Oh! Emily, is he not one of God's children, and is it not true that all +have that within which points to better things? How could the soul of +this poor negro stay within his body if it were not for this hope that +covers his troubles, and, like a lantern-light, throws a gleam into the +path which lies before? I hope he will live now in comfort and die in +peace. He must have been sent to you. Next time let me listen to his +story." And she did, for the next evening we walked together over to his +home, and spent two hours pleasantly enough. + +Clara could not rest until sure of just how he could get along there, +and finally made an arrangement with Aunt Peg to give him his meals when +he should be there. The voice of the old man--he looked more than sixty +years, but said his age was fifty, I think he did not know--quivered +with emotion, as he said: + +"Thank yer, mam, thank yer kindly, I'll tote a load forty miles for ye +any day, and I kin tote pretty 'harbaneous' loads too." + +"Never mind that, Mr. Jones, I like to see you comfortable." + +"Strange talk, mam," he said; "these yere ole ears been more used to, +'git up thar, yer lazy nigger, this yere cottin mus be got into de +market.'" + +He proved a valuable acquisition to my father, and before this month of +February, whose beginning brought him to us, had passed, father said to +mother: + +"I hardly see how I could get on without Matthias. He is so trusty, and +he is smart too. If the poor fellow had been given half a chance, he +would have made a good business man, for he has good ideas as to +bringing things around in season." + +"Truth is stranger than fiction," said mother. "Two classes of society +have been perfectly represented in those who have been brought to us +during this last year." + +"How strangely things work, and there seem to be ways under them all +that will work out in spite of us," said father. + +The Sabbath on which we had expected to go to hear the Reverend Hosea +Ballou preach proved cold and rainy, and a month would elapse ere he +came again. We were impatient waiters, but the time came at last, on the +Sabbath after the arrival of Matthias, and he was to come over and +attend to the early milking, while Hal and Mr. Benton would have supper +ready for us on our return. + +That day was to me like a never-to-be-forgotten sunrise. Although gleams +of light had before this crossed my vision, never had so radiant a +morning of perception opened the door of my soul. New yet old, unknown +yet longed for, those words fell like golden sun-rays into the room of +my understanding; they bathed me with light, and baptized me with +tenderness, while I stood at the fount of living inspiration. That grand +old man, then about seventy-two years of age, talked to the assembled +congregation from this text: "For we know that if our earthly house of +this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God; an house not +made with hands, eternal in the heavens" (Second Corinthians, fifth +chapter and first verse). It was all as natural as a part of himself +could be, and he was a power. Pure and dispassionate, the plea he made +rested on the ground of revealed truth. He told us of what the history +of the past furnished, and carried us clear on into the life beyond. +"The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life; as in Adam all die, so +in Christ shall all be made alive." + +It seemed to me then, and still seems, that he spoke with a power that +was divine. The tide of earnest thought and feeling that carried him +with his subject out on the depth, carried also his hearers, and we were +shown the way to the port of eternal life. Oh, how he strengthened me! +His touching invocation reached, as it seemed, the very doors of heaven +and swung them wide open, and when the people joined in singing the good +old hymn, written by Sebastian Streeter, whose first verse runs as +follows: + + What glorious tidings do I hear + From my Redeemer's tongue! + I can no longer silence bear, + I'll burst into a song. + +I cried almost aloud for great joy. My father and mother were moved, and +when they saw my tears united their own. To our great surprise, after +the service we learned that the professor was the guest of our cousin, +Belinda Sprag, and at her house after dinner I had an opportunity to say +to him: + +"Mr. Ballou, call me your child, for you have to-day baptized me. I am a +Universalist, I know, for I love your doctrine." + +"Bless you, my daughter," was his reply. "God finds His own through +time. May your young heart be made strong, and your life blossom with +roses that have no thorns." + +That was great honor to me; the touch of that hand on my head; those +words addressed to me. We all went home, having had a feast of good +things, and our blessed Clara, who had been the means of leading us to +the light, sat all the way as in a dream, only saying: + +"I have long known it was true." + +Ben added his testimony to the rest. + +"When I die," said he, "I want that man to preach my funeral sermon, if +he will, and if he can't, I don't want any at all." + +Dear boy, he had a loving heart; he was born later than either Hal or +me, and had an earlier spiritual development. Is it not always so? + +I could not enjoy my new thoughts in silence as Clara did, and gave vent +to my theme in the strongest terms. Hal did not ridicule me at all: he +was too sensible for this, but he smiled at my strong expressions, and +said: + +"You will preach yourself if you keep on, and I believe you would make +converts. Your eyes are as large again as they were this morning." + +"Then it must improve my looks, Hal," I said. "If so, I am glad, for in +that respect I have always stood in the background. My brother is an +artist, and must, of course, have the handsome face." + +He laughed again, and added: + +"He will never be ashamed of his sister, I think, and never say 'Emily +did it,' even if she turns preacher." + +Mr. Benton enquired--with his eyes--the meaning of those words. + +I answered: + +"Oh! Hal was forever shouting that in my earlier years at my many +mistakes, until I almost hated the sound of my own name, for I was +always doing the very things I tried not to, and I fear I have not +finished all yet. And I thought, for a little, of the wrong light in +which Mr. Benton held my strange talk with him. + +I was each day more troubled regarding this, and especially so, since I +had no one to talk with about it. Clara I must not tell, and I had +resolved for her sake to be misunderstood indefinitely, for if I had +failed in one point, I had gained in another. The burden was lifted from +her, and she had told me the cloud was broken and she felt better, and +added the strange words, "It may yet come near me; it seems as if a +fringe of the cloud must yet touch me: but I am relieved for the +present." + +I feared to worry my mother, who, during all these days, was very busy +and full of care. Aunt Hildy would hardly understand me, and as I was +waiting for something to move as it were, to make room for me to step, I +must still wait, and thought what a pity it was I had not waited in the +beginning, and then when I did move make all things plain. But then it +lay before me, around and within me, this strange compound of good +thought and impulsive will, and I must reach and fall until, ah! I could +not tell when I should graduate in this school. + +I had now power to restrain myself in many ways, and that had been given +in the days before described, when I passed from girlhood to womanhood, +but to sit satisfied and wait, I could not yet do. It seemed as if the +wings of my thought must grow, and wanted to help me fly, and I was like +a bird longing to get into the freedom that waited, and like the bird +too, did not realize that my attempts would be in vain, and I could +never get out of the cage until a hand opened its door. Therefore, full +often I battled unwisely, but I certainly came to know those times, and +never made a mistake that I did not realize just a moment too late. How +foolish it was! + +I prayed for strength, and after the baptism of Mr. Ballou's preaching, +I thought, "This will help to make me stronger; now I shall make fewer +mistakes." + +This was a comfort and a light before me, but my heart sank a little, +thinking I might have penance to do for those already committed,--coming +events cast their shadows before. + +So full of this thought my heart grew, that I asked Aunt Hildy one day +if she ever felt trouble before it came, and if that feeling had ever +helped her to avoid any part of what was to come. + +"Well," said she,--she was coring and paring apples for pies,--taking up +the towel and wiping one apple three or four times over in an absent +way, "Well, Emily, I've had a host of troubles in my day. They began +early, perhaps they'll end late, but there is one thing, the things we +expect are agoin' to kill us, most allus turn out like the shadder of a +gate post. You know the shadder sometimes will be clean across the road, +but when you find the post itself 'taint more'n five feet high. Then +again the things we don't expect 'll come some morning like a great +harricane, and kill the marigolds of the heart in just a minit." + +I was sorry for her sake I had asked the question, for I knew there was +something she thought of that pained her dear old heart, and I kissed +her wrinkled cheek and said: + +"I hope you will always be with us, and trouble have no part in the +matter." + +"There, there, child, don't talk so; never mind kissin' my old face +neither, I've allus said it only made it worse to think of it, and I've +shut up my heart tight and done the best I could as it comes along. When +I get in that new body I shall have over there," and her tearful eyes +were looking upward then, "perhaps I can hope to have some love that'll +touch that empty spot." + +I turned to my work and left Aunt Hildy with the shadows of the past +clinging about her, her feelings being too sacred for the gaze even of a +friend. Every heart knoweth its bitterness, I thought, and secretly +wondered if every heart had to bleed a little here, holding some sorrow +close to itself. If so, our duty in life would ever be a struggle, +whereas it seemed to me the world was so beautiful, and if every life +could reflect this beauty, all would be easy, and the pleasure of +well-doing be always at hand. + +Aunt Peg said 'twas easy enough to preach, but hard work to practise. I +began to realize it a little, and the teacher who gave me the most +practical illustrations was myself. + +I wrote a long letter to Louis, telling him of our going to hear Mr. +Ballou preach, and of Matthias' coming among us, and I felt like making +him my confessor, and wanted to tell him all about the frantic endeavor +I had made for Clara's sake; but my letter was long enough when I felt +this impulse, and I thought I could talk it all over with him when he +came, and concluded to wait. And here is another lesson, for me to stop +and reflect on. As time proved, that impulse was right, and I should +have followed its guidance, while the sober second thought which I +obeyed and of which I felt proud, led me to just the opposite of what I +ought to have done. How was I to find myself out? If I yielded to +impulse I was so often wrong, and in that instance I should certainly +have been impulsive. Again comes in the text, "the ways of life are past +comprehending." + +Mr. Benton improved every opportunity to talk with me, and while I did +not like the man at first, I became gradually interested in what he +said; and when, in confidence, he informed me that Hal was in love with +Mary Snow, I had a secret joy at receiving his confidence. He was +eighteen years older than myself, and after my mind was settled +regarding the wrong estimate in which I had held him, I treated his +opinions with more deference than over before, and came to regard him as +a good friend to us all. + +I intimated to Clara one day that he was a much better man than I had +thought, and she gave me no reply, but looked on me with a light of +wonder in her eyes. + +"He does not trouble you now, Clara, does he?" + +"Not as before, Emily." + +"Well, does he at all?" + +"I cannot say I feel quite at ease, Emily dear," she replied. + +And I said: "It is your beautifully sensitive nature, darling; you +cannot recover the balance once lost, and the tender nerves that have +been shaken are like strings that after a touch continue to vibrate." + +"Perhaps so, Emily, but I shall be so glad when the day comes when no +mask of smiles can cover the workings of the heart, so glad; when we can +really know each other." + +"Those are Louis' sentiments." + +"Oh yes, my dear boy! he has a heart that beats as mine, Emily, and +after many days it shall come to pass that the desires of his heart +shall be gratified." + +Something in her tone and manner made me feel strangely; a chill crept +over me, and for a second I felt numb. + +It passed away, however, and through the gate of duty I found work, and +left these thoughts. + +When March came to us, father insisted that mother should go to Aunt +Phebe's, if we could get along without her--she had a little hacking +cough every spring, and he knew she needed the change. It was decided +that she should go and stay a month, if she could keep away from home so +long. Aunt Hildy said: "Why, Mis' Minot, go right along. Don't you take +one stitch of work with you neither. Go, and let your lungs get full of +different air, and see what that'll do for you. Take along some +everlasting flowers I've got, and make a tea and drink it while you're +there, and let the tea and the air do their work together." + +So, although it was a trial to mother to leave home, she went, and we +were to be alone. There were a good many of us, but it seemed to me, the +first week, that her place would not be filled by twenty others, and +while I enjoyed the thought of her being free from care, I walked out in +the cold March wind alone every night after supper, and let the tears +fall. If I had been indoors Clara would surely have found me. It was on +one of these walks that Mr. Benton overtook me, and passed his arm +within mine, saying: + +"What does this mean, Emily," he dropped "Miss Minot" soon after the +first talk, "this is the fifth time I have seen you go out at this hour +alone; what is the matter? Are you in trouble?" + +"And if I am," I said, "what have you to do with it?" at the same time +trying to release his arm from mine. + +"I have the right of a dear friend, I hope," he said, and the tears that +would keep falling forced a confession from me and provoked his +laughter, which grated on my ears at first, but he begged pardon for its +seeming rudeness, and said he was thinking only of my going over the +hills to cry, when I could have a whole house to fill with tears. + +We walked farther than I intended, and Matthias passed us on his way +over to his "ground room." + +I said, "Good evening, Mr. Jones," and he saluted me with uncovered +head, saying: + +"De Lord keep you, miss, till mornin'." + +Realizing how far we had walked, I turned hack so suddenly that Mr. +Benton came near being pushed into the stone wall on the old road +corners. On our return he spoke of Matthias. + +"I don't like that fellow anyway, Emily." + +"Don't like him! why not, pray?" + +He gave a sort of derisive ejaculation, and added: + +"You are a little simpleton, Emily, so good and true, you take all for +gold." + +"Well," I replied, "Matthias is good, I know; but why do you dislike +him?" + +"Oh! he belongs to a miserable, low-lived, thievish race, and he knows +enough to be a dangerous fellow to have round. If I were you I'd not +encourage his hanging round; he'll do something to pay you for your +kindness yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A REMEDY FOR WRONG-TALKING. + + +I could not believe what Mr. Benton said of Matthias, and did not +refrain from speaking of it to Clara, whose opinions were golden to me, +and her reply was perfectly in accordance with my own feelings. Each +took her own route to the conclusion, but her interpretation came as an +intuitive perception, while mine was more like something which fell into +my mind with a power whenever his eyes met my own. + +"Emily," said Clara, "I have taken his dark hand in mine. I have come +close to his white heart, when from his lips have fallen the words +telling his history, and I would trust him everywhere. If any trouble +comes to you, Emily, trust Matthias; he is as true as truth itself, and +his soul is pure--purer, perhaps, than the souls of many who have had +great advantages, and whose forms have been molded in a more beautiful +shape. Our Father judges from within; let our judgment be like his." + +This was good for me to hear. I felt glad that I could sometimes come so +near to Clara's thoughts. I was greatly wrought upon by Matthias' tales +of the South; and yet he venerated the people of that country, and +said: + +"The Northerners are too cold-blooded: they didn't invite folks to have +a bite without first feelin' in their pockets to see if they could find +money there." + +I knew nothing from experience of Southern hospitality, but believed all +he told me, and I thought it the greater pity that such a lovely land +should be so marred with this terrible trade in lives, and I said to +Clara, when we were discussing this subject: + +"Is it not too bad, and does it seem possible that this great evil will +be suffered to endure forever?" + +"No," said Clara, "neither possible nor probable. I may not live to hear +with these earthly ears the glad news, but you, Emily, will live to see +the bond go free, and the serpent of slavery lie at the feet of America, +who will place her heel on its crushed and bleeding head. This will be, +must be, and the years will not number so very many between now and +then." + +"Why do you think so, Clara?" + +"Oh! I do not think it; I know it to be true; I have long known it; it +stands by the side of the beautiful truth we have heard from the lips of +that venerated preacher, Emily, and I cannot see why we may not all be +in some measure the recipients of these truths, for they lie all around +us on every hand. Did you ever read, Emily, of the man called Dr. De +Benneville?" + +"Never," said I; "tell me, please, his history." + +"It was printed about 1783. I think I have it." + +"Well, tell me, Clara, a little; I cannot wait for that now." + +She smiled and said: + +"Dear child, how glad I am that you have so good a heart, and some day +these impulses will drive your boat on the shore of peace that lies +waiting for us on the bay of truth. But you are anxious and I will tell +you. Dr. George De Benneville was the son of a Huguenot, who fled to +England from persecution, and was employed at court by King William. His +mother was a Granville, and died soon after his birth in 1703. He was +placed on board a ship of war--being destined for the navy--at the early +age of twelve years, and received on the coast of Barbary singular +religious impressions, induced, it is said, by his beholding the +kindness of the Moors to a wounded companion. He had great doubts +regarding salvation, but after suffering for months with doubts, the +light was made clear to him, and he held to his heart the faith in a +universal restitution. His great sense of duty led him to preach, and he +commenced in the Market-house of Calais in his seventeenth year. He was +fined and imprisoned, but did not desist. He sought and found +co-laborers, and persisted two years in preaching in the woods and +mountains of France. At Dieppe he was seized, and with a friend, Mr. +Durant, condemned. Durant was hanged, and while the preparations for +beheading De Benneville were in progress, a reprieve from Louis IX +arrived, and after a long imprisonment in Paris, he was liberated +through the intercession of the Queen." + +"Good," I said, "she had a heart." + +"He then spent eighteen years in Germany preaching and devoting himself +to scientific studies, and at the age of thirty-eight he emigrated to +this country. He claimed no denominational name, but preached this +glorious truth. I can come nearer to him than any other whose history I +have known, for was he not called of God, and did he not fulfil his +mission gloriously? He was ill on board the ship which brought him to +America, and when it arrived in Philadelphia, a man by the name of +Christopher Sower came on board, saying he was looking for a man who was +ill, and whom he wished to take to his house. This man Sower was also +divinely led, for he received a commandment in a dream to go seven miles +from his home in Germantown to a certain wharf in Philadelphia, and +inquire on board a ship just arrived for a man who was ill, to take him +home and to specially care for him. He hitched his horse to his +carriage, and followed the instructions of his dream." + +"Were these facts the doors that led you out into light?" I asked. + +"I never read these facts, Emily, until after my vision was made clear, +and I saw the future that lives and waits for all." + +"Girls," called Aunt Hildy, "ef you've got through with the meetin', I +want to ask about these biscuit; I'm afraid they're going to be poor; +come look at 'em, Emily." + +"The biscuit are all right, Aunt Hildy. Did you hear what the preacher +said." + +"No, not really, heard all I could without neglectin' of my work." + +"She has been telling me a story of a good man. We will ask her to +preach again." + +"Perhaps," said Aunt Hildy, "more'n just you and I will hear her. I +can't see how all these ideas are comin' out, and 'pears to me, it looks +as ef we'd got to meet, and have a battle somewhere before long. The +troubles are simmerin' over the fire of different minds, and I shall +never sell my birthright over a mess of pottage; that's jest what I +shan't do. It has stuck to me where everything else has failed, and I'm +never agoin' to let go of it." + +I knew to what she alluded, for our good minister had stirred the waters +with his sermons, and they were, of course, induced by his fearing the +progress of liberal thought in our midst. We had ourselves received a +sermon evidently directed at us, which described the act of going to +hear Mr. Ballou as a wrong step. Even if we had not been clear-sighted +enough to have taken the sermon to ourselves, we should have been +reminded of it by the looks of some of the congregation, who sought out +our pew with strong reproof in their eyes; among those whose eyes met +mine in this manner, I remember most distinctly Jane North and Deacon +Grover. I smiled involuntarily, and with a glance of horror at my +wickedness, they turned their faces toward the preacher. + +Clara was not with us that Sabbath, for which I was glad. I wondered +what would be done, and the week after mother left us, Jane North came +over, and I expected to hear some talk concerning it. + +She brought her knitting in a little gingham bag on her arm, and there +was no way to get rid of her or of her coming talk, which, I confess, I +dreaded. + +"Oh, dear!" I said to Clara, "that wretched meddler is coming. What +shall we do with her?" + +"I will try and help you, Emily. Perhaps she has a good heart after all, +and meddles only because her conditions in life have fitted her for +nothing better." + +"It isn't so, Clara; she tells stories about everybody; I would not +believe her under oath." + +"Charity," she said softly, and through the door came Jane. + +"Good afternoon, Emily." + +"Take a seat," I said, bowing. + +"Good afternoon, Mis' Densin," to Clara. + +"Mrs. _De-mond_," I said, pronouncing the name rather forcibly. + +"Oh! _De_-mond is it?" with accent on the first syllable + +"That is more like it," said Clara. "How do you do to-day? let me take +your things." + +"Don't feel very scrumptious, and ain't sick neither, kinder so so. How +are all here? I heard Mis' Minot was gone. Ain't you lonesome?" + +"We do miss her sadly," said Clara. + +"Gone to a weddin', ain't she?" I laughed aloud. + +"Only for a change," said Clara. + +"Why, Mis' Grover"-- + +Clara waited for no news, but said quickly: + +"You were very kind, thinking we were lonely, to come over and see. Come +into the other side of the house," and she led the way to her +sitting-room. + +"Oh! ain't this be-yoo-ti-ful! What a wonderful change from the old side +of this house! I declare, I should think Mr. Minot would be thankful +enough for this addition to his house." + +"Oh! I am the one to be thankful," said Clara, "he was so kind as to +build it for me." + +"Oh! he built it, hey; with his own money, did he?" + +"Certainly, he never would use any other person's. Cousin Minot in a +very nice man." + +"Is he your cousin?" said Jane in astonishment. + +"Why, of course he is. Did you not know of it?" + +"Never heard of it before." + +"What are you knitting?" said Clara. + +"Stockings," was the monosyllabled reply. + +"Did you ever knit silk?" + +"Shouldn't think I did. I ain't grand enough to afford that." + +"You could, though, I know," said Clara. + +"Why, I dunno,--praps so." Jane North was foiled, and she succumbed as +gracefully as she could, although awkwardly enough; but Clara went on: + +"I have some beautiful silk thread, I have had it for years. My +grandfather's people, over in France, were silk weavers. It is through +my mother that I am related to Mr. Minot; my father's people were +French," she said, noticing an incredulous look in the eyes of Jane. "I +have a lot of silk in thread and floss: I'll get the box and show it to +you," and she did. + +My own curiosity led me into the room--I had stood back of the door all +this time--and the silk was beautiful; rich dark shades and fancy colors +mingled, and a quantity of it too. Although kept so long, it was strong, +having been of such fine material. + +"Sakes alive! I should be scar't to death to own all that," said Jane. + +"Well," said Clara, "if you will show me how to knit some for myself, I +will be willing to scare you a little. I would like to give you enough +to make a pair or two of stockings for yourself. Chose your own colors," +and she emptied the contents of the box on the lounge at her side. + +"You don't mean it, Mis' De-mond." + +"Certainly I do, take any shade you prefer, and if Emily has needles, we +will go right to work on our cutting." + +The right string was touched, the cutting started, and when Jane North +left us, she whispered to me: + +"I like that woman, and I don't care whether she is a Baptist, or what +she is, she's a lady." + +Those stockings averted much, for her head was full of wonder talk. + +I reminded Clara of the indignation she felt at her expressions, when +she first saw her, and told her I did not suppose she ever would desire +to look at her again. + +"Why, Emily," she said, "I never feel like annihilating people whose +ideas are all wrong. They are but representatives at the most, and I +would rather desire to help these eaters of husks to find the true bread +that shall bring to them comfort and peace. I should wish to fill their +hearts so full that the rays of this inner light shall radiate around +them, touching with the magic of good deeds all the suffering our world +contains. This would leave no empty rooms in the house of our +understanding; all would be filled with tenants of good-will and loving +faith, bearing charity and love each toward the other; and uncultivated +fields would be found no more. I thought if I could touch Miss North in +the right spot, I might fill her mind, for a few brief hours at least, +with something beside her gossip. If this could be done every day in the +week, she would lose sight of it altogether, and like a tree engrafted +with better fruit, on these new thought-branches beautiful wisdom +apples might grow and ripen. If she comes again I will find something +as new to her, I hope, as I have found to-day." + +"What a wonderful compound you are, Clara," I said, "and what perfect +symmetry nature has given to you, while I am your antipodes." + +"What's that you are calling yourself?" said Aunt Hildy. + +"Oh, something just different from all that is good and true enough to +belong to Clara!" + +"'Pears to me you're gettin' some dretful big word now-a-days; when you +want me to understand you, talk plain English." + +Hal, who had entered that moment, laughed heartily. "So I say, Aunt +Hildy. Our Emily is going to be a blue-stocking, I fear. Housework will +suffer before long, for housework and book cannot go together." + +"No more than ploughs and plaster," I added. + +"Not a bit more, sister mine," and he passed his arm around my +waist,--he often did this now-a-days,--and whispered, "give me a chance +to say something to you." + +I nodded an assent, and he passed on through the room, whistling to +himself "Bonny Doon." I embraced the first opportunity to follow him, +and found him alone in his studio. He seated himself beside me, took one +hand in his and passed an arm around me. I wished he could have been my +lover then, in fact, I often wished it, for he was as good as he was +handsome, both noble hearted and noble looking. He was to me the +embodiment of all that was good and all that went to make the best man +in the world. + +"Emily," he began, "you have been a blessed sister to me; I have loved +you always, even though I plagued you so much, and you have been +faithful to me. I entrusted to you the first great secret of my life, +when I sought you under the apple tree." + +"Why could you not have told me more?" I said. + +"For the sole reason it would have been hard for you to have kept it +from mother, and I wanted to surprise you all at home. Your hand, Emily, +was the one that held the cup of life to my lips; and Louis," he added +in a tender tone, "with his sympathy and the power of his heart and +hand, led me slowly back to strength. Louis is a grand boy. Now, Emily," +and he drew me still closer, "I have something else to tell you." + +"Don't go away, Hal." + +"I desire to stay, but, Emily, I love Mary Snow. I want to tell you of +it. I cannot speak positively as to what may happen, but I love her very +dearly. Could you be glad to receive her as a sister?" + +Selfish thoughts arose at the thought of losing Hal, but I banished them +at once, and my heart spoke truly when I said: + +"Mary Snow is good enough for you, Hal. I have always liked her so much, +but how stupid I am, never to have dreamed of this." + +"No?" said he, as if surprised. "Never dreamed of it? Do you think it +strange that I should tell you, Emily? I have seen the time when it +would seem very silly to me, but I have learned to realize how great is +the tie that binds us, and I hope through all the years you and I will +never be apart. I ask of you, too, one promise. Do not tell even Clara, +and if ever you have such a secret, tell me frankly, for we should love +each other, and our joys should be mutual." + +I said not a word, but I thought of Louis, and I longed to show him the +chain and locket, which I constantly wore, but I could not, and I have +wished since that I might have been wiser. At this moment Mr. Benton +entered, and our position did not escape him. + +"Truly, Hal," he said, "you make a capital picture. Courting, eh?" + +"Call it that if you please; we are very near in spirit, thanks to the +Father." + +The thought of work came over me, and I left them to help about getting +supper. To be in Hal's confidence and to feel the trust he reposed in me +had made me very happy. Precious indeed did this seem to me, and if all +brothers and sisters were as near, how much of evil would be averted. +Young men might find at home the love and society they need, and less +temptation and fewer penalties to pay would be the good result. + +Mother's absence was nearly at an end, and father had gone on Saturday +to Aunt Phebe's to spend the Sabbath, and was to bring mother back on +Monday. + +Sabbath evening Hal went over to Deacon Snow's, Clara was in her room +writing to Louis, Ben reading in the kitchen, and I was left with Mr. +Benton in Hal's room. This night was never to be forgotten, for although +from time to time I had been forced to notice the great change in his +manner toward me, I was unprepared for what occurred, and unconscious +that he had so misunderstood and perverted my motives in that fated +talk. I cannot tell you all he said, nor how he said it, but I was +thoroughly confused and startled by his protestations, and could only +say: + +"Mr. Benton, I do not desire to hear this; I cannot understand it; you +have been mistaken," etc. + +To all of which he replied as if deeply pained, and I believed in his +sorrow and despised myself. I could not and did not tell him of Louis, +for when I thought of it, it seemed too sacred, and he had no right to +this knowledge. I was overwhelmed with strange and unpleasant feelings; +there was no satisfaction in the thought of having heard these +declarations; it was an experience I would fain have avoided. His talk +to Clara, too, came to my aid, and rallying a little, I said: + +"It is not long since you felt you could not live without the love of +Clara's heart; how strangely all your feelings must have changed. This +perplexes me, Mr. Benton." + +He raised his head from his hands--he had been sitting some moments in a +despairing attitude, evidently struggling with great emotion--and +answered: + +"It is natural that this should perplex you, and I am prepared for it. +Years of lonely waiting and yearning for the love of a true heart, have, +perhaps, made me seize too readily on any promise of hope and sympathy. +I was certainly fascinated with Mrs. Desmonde, and told her of my +feelings, prematurely as it proved, for the more I knew of her, the more +convinced I grew of her unfitness, I might almost say for earth, +although she still is beautiful to me. But you, Emily, are a woman of +strength and will, of a strength that will grow, for your years do not +yet number twenty-one; these years have already given you maturity and +power, and I respect and admire you, and I believe I could worship you +if you would let me." + +This was stranger talk than I could endure, and I broke out +passionately: + +"You need not ever try; I do not want you to, for I shall never love +you, and you are also old enough to be my father." I cannot tell why I +should have made this great mistake for which I immediately reproached +myself. + +The lines in Mr. Benton's face grew a little sharper, and the gleam of +his eye for a second was like a fierce light, and he answered gravely: + +"My years do number more, but in my heart I stand beside you. I would +have waited longer to tell you, but I am going away." I looked +wonderingly. "A friend is ill. I go to him; then to Chicago to see some +of our statuettes, and then if your parents will board me here, shall +return for the summer, unless," and his eyes dropped hopelessly, his +voice trembled, "unless," raising his eyes to mine appealingly, "I shall +be too unwelcome a friend to remain." + +Dear Hal and his art rose before me, and pity and love caused me to say: + +"Oh, come back, Mr. Benton! Hal needs you." + +"We will consider then that we are friends, Emily?" + +"Certainly," I said, glad enough to pass out of this door. Would it had +been wider! + +Advancing to me he took my hand, and said: + +"My friend always, if I may never hope for more. I leave to-morrow +morning, let us say good-bye here." + +This was a strange scene for a plain country girl like Emily Minot. +Don't blame me if I was bewildered, and if I failed for a moment to +think of the snake I had dreamed about: neither wonder that in this last +act in Mr. Benton's drama, he seemed to have gained some power over me. +He knew, for I was no adept at concealing, that he had won some vantage +ground, and that I blamed myself and pitied him. + +Morning came, and he left us, and Aunt Hildy said: "Gone with his great +eyes that allus remind me that still water runs deep. Can't see how +Halbert and that man can be so thick together." + +Matthias, who was there early, ready to go to work, said to himself as +the stage rolled away: "De Lord bless me, if dat man don't mos' allus +set me on de thinkin' groun. Pears like he's got two sides to hisself, +um, um." + +I heard this absent talk of Matthias', and also Aunt Hildy's words, and +I marvelled, saying in my heart, "Emily Minot, what will be done next?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +PERPLEXITIES. + + +We were all glad to see mother, and she had enjoyed her visit, which had +improved her much. + +"Hope you haint done any work?" said Aunt Hildy. + +Mother said nothing, but when her trunk was unpacked she brought forth, +in triumph, a specimen of her handiwork. + +"Aunt Hildy," I called, "come and give her a scolding." + +She came, and with Clara and myself, was soon busy in trying to find out +how the mat--for this was the name of the article--was made. + +"How on airth did you do it, and what with?" + +"Why don't you find out?" said mother. + +"For only one reason, _I can't_," said Aunt Hildy. + +"It is made of pieces of old flannel and carpet that Phebe got hold of +somehow. We cut them bias and sewed them on through the middle, the +foundation being a canvas bag, leaving the edges turned up." + +"Well, I declare," said Aunt Hildy; "but you had no right to work." + +My mind was sorely troubled, and when, in about a week after Mr. +Benton's departure, I received a long letter from him, I felt worse than +before. I blamed myself greatly, and still these wrong steps I had taken +were all only sins of omission. It was for Clara's sake; for Hal's sake; +and last, but not least, I could not say to Mr. Benton, as I would have +wished to, that my love was in Louis' keeping, for you remember I had +met Louis' advances with fear, and he had said, "I will wait one year." +How could I then say positively what I did not know? Louis was growing +older, and my fears might prove all real, and I should only subject +myself to mortification, and at the same time, as I really believed, +cause Mr. Benton sorrow. + +"Poor Emily Minot," I said, "you must condole with yourself unless you +tell Halbert," and I resolved to do this at the first opportunity. + +Clara was delighted at Mr. Benton's absence. She went singing about our +house all the time, and the roses actually tried to find her cheeks. Our +days seemed to grow more filled and the hearts and hands were well +occupied. + +Hal was busy with his work and hopes, and I had been over with him to +see Mary, and had looked with them at the picture of their coming days. +I enjoyed it greatly. They were not going to be in haste, and Mary's +father was to talk with our people concerning the best mode of beginning +life. I think some people end it just where they hoped to begin. Mary +had a step-mother, who was thrifty, and that was all; her heart had +never warmed to infant caresses, and she would never know the love that +can be felt only for one's own. It was sad for her, and I can see now +how she suffered for this well-spring of joy which had never been found. +To Mary she was kind, but she could not give her the love she needed. +Mary was timid. Hal always called her his "fawn." It was a good name. He +made a beautiful statuette of her little self and christened it Love's +Fawn, and while he never really meant it should go into strange hands, +it crossed the Atlantic before he did, and received high +commendation--beautiful Mary Snow. + +Instead of my visit helping to open my secret to Hal, it seemed to close +the door upon it, and only a sigh came to my lips when I essayed to +speak of it. Once he asked me tenderly as we walked home: + +"It cannot be our happiness that hurts you, Emily?" + +"No--no," I said, "it gives me great joy to see you so happy." + +I told mother when he wished, and a talk ensued between her and father, +then a conference of families, and a conclusion that the marriage which +was to occur with the waning of September, should be followed, as the +two desired, by their going to housekeeping. + +Father had a plot of thirty acres in trust for Hal, and he proposed to +exchange some territory with him, that his house might be nearer ours. +Hal was named for Grandfather Minot, and was a year old when he died. In +a codicil to the will, grandfather had bequeathed to Hal these thirty +acres, which was more than half woodland. Hal was glad to make an +exchange with father, and get a few acres near home, while he would +still have nice woodland left. Acres of land then did not seem to be +worth so much to us, and it was a poor farmer in our section, who had +not forty or more acres, for our town was not all level plains, and +every land-owner must perforce have more or less of hill and stubble. +These new ideas of building and "fresh housekeeping" as Aunt Hildy said, +gave much to think about, and while Clara and I were talking together +with great earnestness one afternoon in April, we were surprised by a +letter of appeal from Louis. We, I say, for Clara read to me every +letter he sent her, and this began as follows: + +"Little mother, bend thy tender ear, and listen to thy 'dear boy' who +desires a great favor; think of it one week, and then write to him thou +hast granted it." + +The entire letter ran in this strain, and the whole matter was this: he +felt he could not stay in school his appointed time. He had done in +previous months more than twice the amount of work done by any one +student, and when the vacation came with the coming in of July, he would +stay with the professor through the month, and thus work up to a certain +point in his studies, then he wanted a year of freedom, and at its +close, he would go back and finish any and every branch Clara desired +him to. + +"Emily," said Clara, "he will be twenty-one next January, but he will be +my boy still, and he will not say nay, if I ask him to return again. I +have expected this. If Louis Robert had not left so strong a message--" +and she folded her hands, and with her head bent, she sat in deep +thought and motionless for more than half an hour. Then rousing +suddenly, said: + +"It will be well for him, I shall send the word to-morrow." + +My heart beat gladly for in these days, I longed for Louis. Thoughts of +Mr. Benton vanished at the sight of Louis' picture, and his letter I did +not answer. He wrote again. The third time inclosed one in an envelope +addressed to Hal, who looked squarely at me when he handed it to me, and +afterward said: + +"Emily, do you love Will?" + +I shook my head, and came so near telling him, but I did not, and again +committed the sin of omission. + +While all these earthly plans were being formed about us, the stirring +of thought with the people on religious matters grew greater. Regularly +now several of our people went ten miles to the church where we heard +Mr. Ballou. A donation party for our minister was to be given the last +day of April, and the air was rife with conjectures. Jane North made her +appearance, and her first salutation was: + +"Good afternoon, Mis' Minot. Going to donation next Monday night?" + +"I think so," was mother's quiet reply. + +"Well, I'm glad: s'pose there's a few went last year that wouldn't carry +anything to him now?" + +Aunt Hildy stepped briskly in and out of the room, busy at work, and +taking apparently no notice of the talk, when Clara came again to the +front with: + +"Oh! come this way, Miss North, I have something to say, these good +people will excuse us." + +"Oh! yes," said mother, and they went. I could not follow them for I was +busy. Two hours after, I entered Clara's sitting-room, and Jane sat as +if she had received an important message from some high potentate, +which she was afraid of telling. She sat knitting away on her silk +stockings, and talked as stiffly, saying the merest things. Clara left +the room a few moments, and then she said: + +"Ain't she jist a angel; she's give me the beautifullest real lace +collar for myself, and three solid linen shirts for our minister; said +per'aps she should'nt go over; and two or three pieces of money for his +wife, and a real beautiful linen table-cloth; you don't care if I take +'em, do you?" + +"Oh, no!" I said, "Mrs. Desmonde is the most blessed of all women." + +"_So she is_, but here she comes," and again Jane sat covered with new +dignity. It was rather a heavy covering, but I thought of Clara's +philosophy and said to myself, "Another batch of scandal pushed aside." +This way of Clara's to help people educate themselves to rise above the +conditions which were to them as clinging chains, was to me beautiful. +If all could understand it, it would not be long before our lives would +unfold so differently. "_Emily will help me._" These words came full +often before me, and now if I could only see my way through the +difficulties which entangled me, then my hands would, perhaps, led by +her, touch some strings which might vibrate sweetly. Then, and not till +then, could I be satisfied, and unconscious of any presence, I sang +aloud: + +"How long, oh, Lord! how long?" + +"Dat's de berry song I used to sing down thar, an' I dunno as I could +'spected any sooner," said Matthias, who came in unexpectedly. + +"Oh, Matthias!" I said, "do you know I believe your people will all go +free?" + +And his large, honest eyes opened widely, as he said: + +"'Way down in yer, I feel sometimes like I see freedom comin' right down +on de wings of a savin' angel, and den I sings down in dat yer grown' +room, Miss; I sings dat ole cabin-meetin' song, 'Jes' lemme get on my +long white robe, and ride in dat golden chariot in de mornin' right +straight to New Je-ru-sa-lem.' 'Pears like I get great notions, Miss +Emily." + +"The Lord will hear you as well as me, Matthias, and some day slavery +will die. What a good time there will be then above there," said I, +pointing upward. + +"Yes," said he, "good for de righteous, but dat old Mas'r Sumner, he'll +jes' be down thar 'mong dem red-hot coals." + +"Oh, Matthias!" I said, "there are no red-hot coals." + +"Sure, Miss, I dunno but dat 'pears like I can't hab hevin' wid dat man +thar." + +"He will be changed and good." + +"Can't think so. Dat man needs dat fire; preachin' could'nt do him no +good, noway." + +"We will agree to let each other think as they feel, but our Father must +love all his children." + +"Ef dat's so," said he thoughtfully, "I hope he'll hab more'n one room +for us, rather be mos' anywhar dan in sight ob dat man," and he trudged +off with his literal Heaven and Hades before him. + +Poor ignorant heart! let him hold to these thoughts; he cannot dream of +a love so liberal as that which delights my heart to think of; he cannot +know that we, being God's children, must inherit some of his eternal +goodness, and that little leaven within will be the salvation of us all +through time that knows no end. Poor Matthias! his eyes will be opened +over there; and tears filled my own at the glorious prospect waiting. He +was living in his ground room truly. + +The donation came off happily. Our minister had been many years with us, +and was a good man, to the extent of his light, and worthy of all we +could bestow on him. He owned a small farm, and had also practised a +little in medicine, and had always tried to do his duty. I suppose his +fiery sermons were preached honestly, and that his duty, as Clara said, +led him to hang out a signal lantern. To me it was a glow-worm light, +that only warned me in a different direction, and although my fierce +treatment of that Christmas sermon was past, down deep in my heart +strong truths had been planted. I felt I must have a talk with both my +pastor and my father before I could again partake of the communion. + +Clara did not go with us to the donation. We went after supper, meeting +at the house about six P.M., and stayed until nine. Many good +and sensible gifts were brought them, and Clara's was not least among +them. Jane North proudly displayed the four five dollar gold pieces, and +descanted long on "such fine linen," and that beautiful lady who sent +it. + +Several said to us: "Why, we didn't know as you would come"--to which I +said: + +"Oh, yes! of course we proposed to come;" and for once I was wise enough +not to ask why. I told Clara, she certainly had planted good seed, for +not one word of scandal escaped the lips of Jane that evening, only +praise of the beautiful Mis' Desmonde. + +It was only a few days after the donation, that Mr. Davis, our minister, +came over to spend the evening, and we had a long talk, one that ended +better than I anticipated. When he came he inquired particularly for +Clara, who insisted on our going into her sitting-room, and all but Hal +followed her thither, his steps, after supper, turning as usual toward +the house of his "fawn." + +Mr. Davis alluded to his donation visit, and he desired especially to +thank Clara for her most welcome offers to his wife and himself, adding, +"And the greatest wonder to me is that the shirts fit me so well." + +"You know my dear boy is a man in size," said Clara, "I thought they +would be right, and he has now left four more that are new and like the +ones I sent you, but please do not thank me so much, Miss North did me +full justice in that line." + +"She was a willing delegate, then?" said Mr. Davis. + +"Oh, very!" said Clara, "and she is a lonely soul in the world." + +"So she is, more lonely than she need be if our people could understand +her," he replied; "but I confess my own ignorance there, for I never +seemed to know just what to say to her." + +"Clara does," said I, but Clara looked, "Emily don't," and I said no +more. + +At last the conversation turned on religious matters, and to my +surprise, Mr. Davis came to explain himself instead of asking +explanations, as I had expected. + +"I have understood," said he, "that you, Mr. Minot, think my sermon +alluding to false doctrines, and also the one in which I spoke of +preachers of heresy, were particularly directed to you, and that I +believed you had done very wrong in leaving for one Sabbath your own +church to hear a minister that preaches new and strange things." + +"I never have intimated as much, Mr. Davis. I did suppose you intended +some of the remarks in your last sermon should apply directly to myself +and family; but of the first one, I had only one idea. As I have before +said to you, the thought of a burning hell always makes me shudder. I +never could conceive of such torture at the hand of a wise and loving +God. If there is punishment awaiting the unrighteous, it is not of +literal fire. I am well persuaded of this, for if it were a literal +fire, a body would soon be consumed; hence, the punishment could not be +endless as supposed; while upon a spiritual body, it could have no +effect. The fire in the stove burns my finger, but touches not my soul." + +"You know the tenets of our belief embrace both eternal comfort and +eternal misery," said Mr. Davis; "it is what we are taught." + +"I know," said my father. "I have considered my church obligations +seriously, and am prepared to say, if it is inconsistent for me, in the +eyes of my preacher or of his people, that I, holding these thoughts, +should remain in fellowship with them as before, I can only say I have +grown strong enough now to stand alone, and I should think I ought to +stand aside. I cannot see why we may not agree on all else." + +"I believe we do; I respect your opinions, Mr. Minot; we cannot afford +to lose you either. May I ask with what denomination you would propose +to unite?" + +"None at all," said my father, "unless the road comes clearer before me. +I love our old meeting-house, Mr. Davis; my good old father played the +violin there for years, and when a youth, I stood with him and played +the bass viol, while my brother, now gone, added the clear tones of the +clarionet, and the voice of my sweet sister Lucy could be heard above +all else, in the grand old hymns 'Silver Street' and 'Mear.'" At these +recollections my father's voice choked with emotion, and strange for +him, tears fell so fast he could say no more. + +"Brother Minot," said Mr. Davis, rising to his feet and taking his hand, +his eyes looking upward, "let the God who seeth in secret hold us still +as brothers; keep your pew in the old church. This one difference of +opinion can have no weight against either of us. This is all the church +meeting we need or will have, and if I ever judge you falsely, may I +_be_ thus judged." + +Aunt Hildy said: "Amen, Brother Davis, your good sense will lead you out +of the ditch, that's certain." + +Clara's eyes were looking as if fixed on a far-off star. She was lost in +gazing, the thin white lids covered her beautiful eyes for a moment or +two, then she turned her pure face toward Mr. Davis, and said: + +"It is good for us all to be wise, and it is not easy to obey the +scriptural injunction, 'Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.' +Ever growing, the human mind must reach with the tendrils of its thought +beyond the confines of to-day. The intuition of our souls, this Godlike +attribute which we inherit directly from our Father, is ever seeking to +be our guide. None can be so utterly depraved that they have not +sympathy either in one way or another with its utterances. Prison bars +and dungeon cells may hold souls whose central thoughts are pure as +noon-day; and sometimes hard-visaged men, at the name of home and +mother, are baptized in tears. The small errors of youth lead along the +way to greater crimes, and I sometimes ask myself if it is not true that +living with wants that are not understood, causes men to seek the very +things their souls do not desire, and they are thus led into deep +waters. If Mr. Minot's soul reaches for a God of compassion and mercy, +is it not because that soul whispers its need of this great love; and if +it asks for this, will it not be found; for can it be possible with this +spark of God within us, the living soul can desire that which is not +naturally designed for it? + +"Why, my dear friends," she continued, "this is the great lesson we need +to make us, on this earth, all that we might and should be. It is not +true that the thought of eternal love will warrant us in making mistakes +here; on the contrary, it will help us to see all the beauty of our +world, and to link our lives as one in the chain which binds the present +to the enduring year of life to come. Duty would be absolute pleasure, +and all they who see now no light beyond the grave, would by this +unerring hand be led to the mountain top of truth's divine and eternal +habitation. In your soul, Mr. Davis, you ask and long for this. +Doctrinal points confuse you when you think upon them, and you have lain +aside these thoughts and said, 'the mysteries of godliness may not be +understood;' but my dear sir, if this be true, why are we told to be +perfect even as our 'Father in Heaven is perfect;' for would not that +state be godly, and could there be mysteries or fear connected with it?" + +"_Never, never_," said Aunt Hildy. + +Then, with her hands stretched appealingly toward him, Clara said: + +"Oh, sir, do not thrust this knowledge from the door of your heart! Let +it enter there. It will warm your thoughts with the glow of its +unabating love, and you will be the instrument in God's hand of doing +great good to his children." + +She dropped her hands, the tender lids covered again those wondrous +eyes, and we sat as if spell-bound, wrapt in holy thought. + +"Let us pray," said Mr. Davis, and we knelt together. + +Never had I heard him pray like this, and I shall ever remember the last +sentences he uttered; "Father, if what thy handmaid says be true, give +me, oh, I pray thee, of this bread to eat, that my whole duty may be +performed, and when thou shall call him hither, may thy servant depart +in peace." + +Mr. Davis shook hands with us all just as the clock tolled nine, and to +Clara he said: + +"Sister, angels have anointed thee; do thy work." + +This was a visit such as might never occur again. Truly and strangely +our life was a panorama all these days. I dreamed all night of Clara and +her thoughts, and through her eyes that were bent on me in that realm of +dreams, I read chapters of the life to come. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +LOUIS RETURNS. + + +It would be now only a few days to Mr. Benton's return, and I dreaded +it, never thinking of him without a shudder passing over me; Aunt Hildy +would have called it "nervous creepin'." I felt that this was wrong, and +especially so since I knew I was thus hindered in the well-doing for +which I so longed. + +"Happiness comes from the inner room," said Aunt Hildy; "silver and gold +and acres of land couldn't make a blind man see." + +Her comparisons were apt, and her ideas pebbles of wisdom, clear and +white, gathered from experience and polished by suffering. Both she and +Clara were books which I read daily. How differently they were written! +and then how different from both was the wisdom of a mother whose light +seemed daily to grow more beautiful. It seemed when I thought of it as +if no one had ever such good teachers. And now if I could only break +these knots which had been tangled through Mr. Benton's misunderstanding +of me, there seemed no reasonable excuse for not progressing. Church +affairs had been happily regulated, so far as Mr. Davis and our few +nearer friends were concerned, and the sermon on good deeds which he +preached the Sabbath after his visit to us was more than worthy of him. + +Clara said, "He talked of things he really knew; facts are more +beautiful than fancies." + +"And stand by longer," added Aunt Hildy. + +Louis was to come on the first of July, his mother not deeming it +advisable for him to study through that month; but Mr. Benton preceded +him and came the first day of June. It was a royal day, and he entered +the door while the purplish tinge of sunset covered the hills and lay +athwart the doorway. + +"Home again," was his first salutation. + +"Very welcome," said Hal and father; mother met him cordially, and I +came after them with Clara at my side, and only said: + +"How do you do, Mr. Benton?" + +He grasped my hand and held it for an instant in a vice-like grasp. I +darted a look of reproof at him, and the abused look he wore at our last +talk came back and settled on his features. + +It seemed to me the more I tried to keep out of his way the more fate +would compel me to go near him. Hal was very busy, and it seemed as if +Clara had never spent so much time in her own room as now, when I needed +her so much. Mother was not well, and every afternoon took a long nap, +so I was left down stairs, and no matter which side of the house I was +in he was sure to find me. The third day after his arrival he renewed +his pleading, trying first to compliment me, saying: + +"What a royal woman you are, and how queenly you look with your massive +braids of midnight hair fastened with such an exquisite comb!" (Louis' +gift). + +"Midnight hair," I said. "I've seen many a midnight when I could read in +its moonlight; black as a crow would be nearer the truth," and I +laughed. + +The next sentence was addressed to my teeth. He liked to see me laugh +and show my teeth; they looked like pearls. + +"I wish they were," I said, "I'd sell them and buy a nice little house +for poor Matthias to live in." + +"Ugh!" he said, and looked perfectly disgusted; but he was not, for he +said more foolish things, and at last launched out into his sober +sentiment. Oh, dear, if I could have escaped all this! + +"Have you not missed me? You have not said it." + +"I have not missed you at all," I said, "and I do wish you would believe +it." + +"You have no welcome, then, no particular words of welcome?" + +"Mr. Benton, you know I am a country girl." + +"Yes, but you remind me of a city belle in one way. You gather hearts +and throw them away as recklessly as they do, throwing smiles and using +your regal beauty as a fatal charm. I must feel, Miss Minot, that it +would have saved me pain had we never met." + +This touched a tender spot. "Mr. Benton," I cried, "cease your foolish +talk, you know that I never tried to captivate you, that I take no +pleasure in an experience like this. You say that I am untrue to myself, +false to my highest perception of right and justice. If you claim for me +what you have said, you do not believe it, Wilmur Benton; you know in +your soul you speak falsely." + +"Why, Emily," he said, "you are imputing to me what you are unwilling +to bear yourself; do you realize it?" + +"I think I do," I replied, "and further proof is not needed to convince +me." + +"Really, this is a strange state of affairs, but (in a conciliatory +tone), perhaps I spoke too impulsively, I cannot bear your anger; +forgive me, Emily." + +"Well," I answered merely. + +"Can you forget it all?" he said. + +"I will see," I replied, and just then I saw Halbert coming over the +hill, and I was relieved from further annoyance. I cannot say just how +this affected me. I felt in one sense free, but still a sense of +heaviness oppressed me and all was not clear. My mental horizon was +clouded, and I could see no signs of the clouds drifting entirely away, +but on one point I was determined. I would give no signs of even pity +for Mr. Benton, even should I feel it as through days I looked over my +words and thoughts. He should not have even this to hold in his hand as +a weapon against me. I would say nothing to Hal, for Louis would come, +and in the fall, the year of his waiting would be at an end. He would +tell me again of his great love, and I would yield to him that which was +his. Oh, Louis, my confidence in your blessed heart grows daily +stronger! + +While these thoughts were running through my mind, Matthias' voice was +heard, a moment more and he was saying: + +"Guess he's done gone sure dis time; he drink an fiddle, an fiddle an' +drink; and nex' ting I knowed he's done dar at the feet of dem stars all +in a heap by hisself." + +"Who's that?" I cried. + +"Plint, Miss. He's done gone, sure, an' I came roun' to get some help +'bout totin' him up stars. Can't do nothin', an' Mis' Smith she's jes +gone scart into somebody else. She don't 'pear to know nuthin', an' when +I say help me, she jest stan' an' holler like mad." + +"I'll go over," said Aunt Hildy, wiping her hands, and turning for sun +bonnet and cape. + +"I'll go," said Hal. + +"Me, too," cried Ben, and off they started. + +Poor Plint was gone, surely enough; dead, "a victim to strong drink and +fiddlin'," Aunt Hildy said. His funeral was from the church, for we all +respected Aunt Peg and pitied Plint, and Mr. Davis only spoke of God's +great mercy and his tenderness to all his flock; never putting a word of +endless torment in it. + +Poor Aunt Peg had great misgivings concerning Plint, and groaned audibly +throughout the entire service. Matthias was a great comfort to her +through her trouble, and she told Clara and me when we called on her, +that he was not as clean as she wished, but he was a mighty comfort to +her, and the greatest blessing Aunt could have sent. Plint's fiddle hung +against the wall in her little room with whitened floor and +straight-back chairs, and I could not keep back the tears when I noticed +that she had a bunch of wild violets tied to the old bow. She noticed it +and burst into tears herself, crying: + +"That there fiddle was no use no way, but seems now I kinder reckon on +'t." She was true to these intuitions of the soul, these thoughts that +cover tenderly even the remembrance of a wasted life, and we could not +but think that if Plint had not loved cider so well, he might perhaps +have developed rare musical talent. + +I had been true to myself as far as Mr. Benton was concerned, and since +our last stormy interview, treated him with respectful indifference. He +had two or three times attempted to bring about a better state of +affairs, but I could not and did not give him any encouragement. I felt +wronged and also justified in the establishment of myself where I should +be safe from greater trouble at his hands. + +The first day of July, the day for Louis' coming, dawned auspiciously, +and I was as happy as a bird. It seemed to me my trouble was nearly +over, and Louis, when he came in at our door that night, looked +admiringly at me, and after supper he said: + +"Emily, you are growing beautiful, do you know it?" + +"I hope so," I said honestly, "you know how homely I have always been." + +"No, no, I do not, you have been to me my royal Emily ever since I first +met you." + +"I must have compared strangely with your city friends and their +bewildering costumes." + +"It was more strange than you know; you made the picture and they were +the background," he said, and I thought, perhaps, he was going to cut +short the year of waiting and say more. Instead, he looked off over the +hills, and held my hand tighter. We were in Hal's room, and Mr. Benton +entered, saying with great joy in his tones: + +"Louis, I have made a success, take a little walk with me and I will +tell you about it." + +Louis looked at me a moment, as if to tell me it is the picture, and +with a tender light in his eyes, went out under the sky, which was +beautiful with the last tinge of sunset clinging to it, as if loath to +leave its wondrous blue to the rising moon and stars. + +As they passed out, I thought I saw Matthias coming, but must have been +mistaken, as he did not appear. An hour passed and Louis and Mr. Benton +returned, the latter looking wonderfully satisfied and happy, Louis +thoughtful, and I should have thought him sad had I not known of Clara's +picture. + +The days passed happily, but through them all I was not as happy as I +had expected. Louis must be sick, I thought; he was so quiet, and almost +sad. Perhaps he had met with less, and I longed to ask him but could +not. I was annoyed also by Mr. Benton, who would not fail to embrace +every opportunity that offered, to talk with me alone, holding me in +some way, for moments at a time. If I was dusting in Hal's studio, and +this was a part of my daily duties, he was sure to be there, and several +times Louis came in when we were talking together, I busy at work and +Mr. Benton standing near. + +Clear through the months that led us up to the door of October, these +almost daily annoyances troubled me. It was not love-making, for since +the day of my righteous indignation he had not ventured to approach me +on that ground; but any thought which came over him, sometimes regarding +his pictures and sometimes a saying of Aunt Hildy's,--anything which +could be found to talk upon, it seemed to me, he made a pretext to +detain me, and since he did this in a gentlemanly manner, how could I +avoid it! It was a perfect bore to me, and yet I thought it too foolish +a trouble to complain of. That was not the summer full of joy to which I +had been looking, but it was full of work and care, and over all the +mist of uncertainty. + +Hal's house had been built; it was a charming little nest, just enough +room for themselves and with one spare chamber for company. + +"Don't git too many rooms nor too big ones," said Aunt Hildy. "If six +chairs are enough, twenty-five are a bother. One loaf of bread at a time +is all we want to eat. I tell you, Halbert, you can't enjoy more'n you +use; don't get grand idees that'll put your wife into bondage. There are +all kinds of slavery in this world," and between every few words a +milk-pan went on the buttery shelf. She always worked and preached +together. + +Hal had a nice room for his work; then they had a sitting-room, kitchen +and bedroom down stairs, and two chambers. It was a cottage worth +owning, and Clara, as usual, did something to help. + +"Allus putting her foot down where it makes a mark," said Aunt Hildy. + +She furnished Hal's room entirely, and gave Mary so many nice and +necessary things that they were filled with thanksgiving. The marriage +ceremony was performed at Deacon Snow's, and I cried every moment. I sat +between Louis and Clara, notwithstanding Mr. Benton urged a seat upon me +next himself; and on our return home he appeared to think I needed his +special care, but I held close to Clara, and Louis, whose arm was his +little mother's support, walked between us. He was sadly thoughtful, +saying little. + +The wedded pair left our town next morning for a brief visit with Mary's +friends, and returned in a few days to their little house, which was all +ready for occupancy. Aunt Hildy and mother had put a "baking of +victuals," according to Aunt Hildy, into the closet, and the evening of +their return their own supper table was ready, with mother, Clara, Louis +and me in waiting. Louis remarked on Mr. Benton's coming over, and I +forgot myself and said, in the old way: + +"Can't we have one meal in peace?" + +Mother said: + +"Why, Emily, you are losing your mind; what would Hal think if Mr. +Benton were left alone?" + +Father and Ben came over, but not till after supper, and Aunt Hildy +persisted in staying at home and doing her duty. + +"Let him come, and stay, too," I added, still feeling vexed; and how +strangely Louis looked as Mr. Benton came in. "Fairy land," he said. + +Mother made some reply, but I sat mute as my thought could make me. + +The stage came. Our first supper was pleasant both as a reality and as a +type of their future. Hal and Mary were truly married, and through the +ensuing years their lives ran on together merged as one. When we stopped +to think over the years since his boyhood, to remember the comparatively +few advantages he had enjoyed, the ill luck of my father in his early +years, and his tired, discouraged way which followed,--it was hard to +realize the facts as they were. Grandma Northrop often prophesied of +Hal, saying to mother: + +"That boy's star will rise. I know his good luck will more than balance +his father's misfortune, and in your old age you will see him handsomely +settled in life." + +It seemed as if the impulse of his youth had all tended to bring him +where the light could shine on his art, and from the time he entered Mr. +Hanson's employ his good fortune was before him. There is another +thought runs by the side of this, and that is one induced by the +knowledge of the great power of gold. Mr. Hanson was a man of wealth and +good business relations. Liking Hal for himself, and interested in his +art, it was easy for him to open many doors for the entrance of his +work. Mr. Benton was a help to Hal in his art, and his reward was +immediate almost, for Hal had told me Will's pieces had never been +appreciated as now. It was astonishing, too, how many people had money +to buy these expensive treasures,--but the sea was smooth. + +"Every shingle on the house paid for," said Aunt Hildy; "aint that the +beginning that ought to end well?" + +And now the road of the future lay, as a fair meadowland, whose flowers +and grasses should be gathered through the years. Truly life is +strangely mixed. + +The look of perplexing anxiety had vanished from my father's face, for +with Hal's prospects his own had grown bright, and you cannot know how +Clara lifted him along, as it were; paying well and promptly and saving +in so many ways, was a wondrous help to a farmer's family. There was +also the prospect of a new street being opened through the centre of the +town, and if my father wished he could sell building lots on one side of +it, for it would run along the edge of his land. + +"Trouble don't never come single-handed, neither does prosperity, Mr. +Minot," said Aunt Hildy. + +"Love's Fawn" was a famous little housekeeper, everything was in good +order, and I certainly found a well-spring of joy in the society of +these two. If Mary needed any extra help, Hal said, "Emily will do it." +This was a very welcome change from the old saying. + +Ben was a daily visitor, and spoke of sister Mary with great pride. He +was a good boy and willing. Hal felt anxious to help him, if he desired +it, by giving him more schooling, but he was a farmer born, and his +greatest ambition was to own a farm and have a saw mill. He went to the +village school, and had as good an education as that could give, for he +was not dull. I was glad for his sake he liked farming; it seemed to me +a true farmer ought to be happy. Golden and crimson leaves were +fluttering down from the forest trees, for October had come upon us and +nearly gone, and while all prospects for living were full of cheer, I +felt a great wonder creeping over me, and with it, fear. Louis had said +no word to me as yet, and could it be he had forgotten the year was at +an end? Surely not. Could his mind have changed? Oh, how this fear +troubled me! He was as kind as ever, but he said much less to me, and +seemed like one pre-occupied. One chance remark of Clara's brought the +color to my cheeks, as we sit together. + +"Louis, my dear boy, what is it? A shadow crossed your face just then." + +He looked surprised, and only half answered: + +"The shadow of yourself. I was thinking about you." + +Mr. Benton did not talk of leaving us; he had some unfinished pieces, +and my father had said: + +"Remain as long as you please, if my wife is willing." + +After Hal left, I felt his studio marred by Mr. Benton's presence, for +he had become a perfect torture to me, and I began to believe he +delighted in it, secretly. Then again, I had the room to attend to, and +I must in consequence be annoyed. Of this I was tired, and when day +after day passed and brought no word from Louis, save in common with the +rest, I said, hopelessly: + +"Let it go. I will try to love no one but father and mother and Clara +and Hal, and oh, dear! when shall I ever be ready to say, 'Now Clara, +let me help you'?" + +She said to me through these days I was not happy. "Wild flower, what +troubles thee?" one day, and again, "Emily, my royal Emily, art thou +sighing for wings?" + +November came and passed, and the gates of the new year were opening, +still all the way lay dark before me. Night after night my tear-stained +pillow told my sorrow mutely, and day after day I sighed. Mother was not +well, and I felt that everything was wrong. I was worrying myself sick, +I knew, and could not help it. + +It was a cold, bitter day, and in my heart lay bitter thoughts when +Matthias came over to tell us, that "Peg was right sick, 'pears like +she's done took sick all in a minit, onions and onions, mustard and +mustard, an nothin' don't do no good. Here's a piece of paper I foun' in +de road, 'pears like you mus' want it," and he handed it to me. + +I put it in my pocket and went to ask Aunt Hildy what to do for Aunt +Peg. She proposed to go over, and Ben went with her. + +While they were gone I read the paper, which proved to be a letter, +evidently written to Mr. Benton, and the signature was plainly, "your +heart-broken Mary," I could only pick out half sentences, but read +enough to show me the treachery and sorrow, aye, more, a life cursed +with shame, and at the hands of Wilmur Benton. + +"Thank God," I cried aloud--I was in the sitting-room alone--and then +tears fell hot and fast, and I sobbed and cried as if I had found a wide +white path that led from the night of my discontent, out into the +morning of the day called peace. I could not stay there and cry, I must +pass Clara's door to go to my room, and throwing a shawl over my +shoulders I rushed out, and fairly flew over the frozen ground to that +dear old apple tree. What a strange place to go to, standing under those +bare limbs, or rather walking to and fro, but I could not help it! This +same old tree had heard my cries and seen my tears for years. I covered +my face with both hands, and wept aloud. I could not have been there +long, when I felt a presence, and Louis was beside me. + +Putting an arm around me, he said tenderly, "Come in, Emily." + +"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I cannot, they will see my face, what shall I do? +how came you here?" and I still kept crying and sobbing as if my heart +would break. + +"Why Emily, my royal Emily, come into little mother's room,--she has +lain down,--and tell me why you weep." + +I yielded gratefully, not gracefully, and we were seated alone, all +alone, and he was saying to me: + +"Emily, tell me what it is, you have troubled me so long, your eyes have +grown so sad. Oh! Emily, my darling, may I not know your secret sorrow? +I can wait longer, my year has flown, and three months more, and still +my heart is waiting; tell me your sorrow, and then let me say to you +what I have waited in patience to repeat." + +It was not a dream, my heart beat like a bird, and I could tell him, +only too gladly. "Emily will do it." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +EMILY FINDS PEACE. + + +As soon as I could control my voice I said, "I cannot tell you why I cry +so bitterly. I felt so strangely when I read this terrible letter, which +Matthias had picked up in the road and given to me. Instead of sorrow +covering me, as would seem natural, sorrow for another, not myself, I +said, 'thank God,' for it seemed as if I had looked at something that +would lead me from darkness to light. I have been so miserable, Louis; +Mr. Benton has tormented me so long, that I have been filled with +despair, and I begin to believe I shall never be worth anything again; +oh! I am grieving so, and yet feel such a strange joy;" and I shook as +if with ague. + +Louis looked as if wonder-struck, and holding both my hands in one of +his, drew my head to his shoulder, and with his arm still round me, put +his hand on my forehead. + +"Your head is like fire, Emily; the first thing is for you to get quiet; +a terrible mistake has been made, and we may give thanks for the help +that has strangely come." + +I knew it would appear but did not know how. I still grieved and sighed +and was trying hard to control myself. + +"Emily," said Louis, in a tone of gentle authority, "do not try to hold +on to yourself so; just place more confidence in my strength and I will +help your nerves to help themselves, for you see these nerves you are +trying to force into quiet, are only disturbed by your will. Let the +rein fall loosely, it will soon be gathered up, for when you are quiet +you will be strong, and the harder you pull the more troubled you will +be. You must lean on me, Emily, from this day on as far as our earthly +lives shall go--you are mine. It is blessed to claim you." + +I tried to do as he said, and after a little, the strength he gave crept +over me like a tide that bore me up at last; my grieving nerves were +still, but my face was pale, as he said again: + +"Now, Emily, let me hear from your own lips, 'I love you, Louis,'" and +his dark eyes turned to meet my own, which were filled with tears that +were not bitter--holy tears that welled from the fountain of my tired +and grateful heart. + +"I do love you, Louis--and Louis," I cried, forgetting again, +impetuously, "I thought you had forgotten. I have suffered so long and +you did not know it, and I dared not tell." + +"Emily should have done it, but never mind, you say you love me, and +shall it be as I desire? will you be my wife, Emily?" + +I bowed my head and he continued: + +"Thank you, Emily, and I do hope that listening angels hear and know it +all. Their love shall sanction ours, and we will do all we can for each +other, and also for those who unlike us see not the love, the comfort, +and the faith they need. Now you shall be my Emily,--you are christened; +this is your royal title,--my Emily through all the years." + +Oh, how glad I felt! From the depths of my spirit rose so strong and +full the tide of feeling that told me one love was perfect, and it cast +out fear. + +I said: "Louis, let us wait. Do not look at the dreadful letter now, it +will mar this pleasant picture which rests me so, and I have been tired +too long. I hope I may never again have to say to myself, 'Emily did +it,' or its companion sentence, 'Poor Emily did not do it.' Let me +breathe a little first, for I shall be again wrought up." + +"Perhaps not," said Louis. + +"Oh! I must be, it cannot be avoided, there is a dark passage through +which we must pass, but if we go together it will not be so hard." + +"As you say, my Emily," and at that moment Clara entered. + +"Come in, little mother," said Louis, "come in and seal my title for +your royal cousin with a motherly kiss, for she has promised to be my +wife--my Emily through time." + +And she glided toward us, kissed my forehead tenderly, and then taking a +hand of each in one of hers, she turned her eyes upward and said: + +"Father, bless my children; they were made for each other. May their +lives and love continue, ever as thine, through endless time. Let our +hearts be united and thy will be ours," and she knelt on the floor at +our feet, her head resting in my lap, and her hand in Louis', whose +face was radiant with the thoughts which sought expression in his +features. I marvelled, as I looked on his beauty, that plain Emily Minot +could have become so dear to him. + +The thought of father's fear, too, came over me, and while we were thus +in thoughtful silence, the old corner clock gave warning of the supper +hour being near, and I said: + +"The supper I must see to, Louis." + +He smiled and said: + +"My Emily can get supper, I know, for she makes both bread and butter, +and is loyal to her calling ever, as to her lover." + +Mr. Benton looked sharply at me during the meal, and it seemed to me as +if my eyes betrayed the thought which, filled my heart. Aunt Hildy had +returned from her errand of mercy, and she said it was "nervous +rheumatiz." + +"Poor creature, she's broke down with her hard work." + +"Perhaps she'll marry that old fellow, Mat Jones," said Mr. Benton. +"He'd make a good husband if she isn't too particular," and he laughed +as if he thought his remark suggestive of great cunning. No one gave it +even a smile. He did not like Matthias, and often spoke slurringly of +him. This was strange, for I could see no harm coming to him from this +harmless soul who was good and true and faithful as the sun. He was to +us the very help we needed, and father could entrust the care of his +work to him whenever he desired to rest a day, or it was necessary for +him to be absent from home. This was no small consideration, and well +appreciated by those who knew what the care and work of life on a farm +meant. Mr. Benton's remark called forth from Louis after a time one +concerning the great evil of slavery. + +"And if we suffer from any error this race commit, we must remember it +is our own people who have brought it to us," said he. "Africa never +would have come to us." + +Mr. Benton, apparently nettled, said: + +"I imagine you would not enjoy a drove of these people in your care. I +had a little taste of the South during two years of my life, and my word +for it, Louis, they are not attractive creatures to be tormented with. +They are a perfect set of stubborn stupidities, and driving is the only +thing to suit them, depend on it." + +Louis looked more than he said, only recalling that the blame for this +could not rest on the slave alone. "I do not imagine I could enjoy +slave-owning. I feel the majority of slave-owners lower themselves until +they stand beneath the level of the brutes." + +Father said, "It is all wrong." + +Aunt Hildy added, "All kind of bondage is ungodly, and the days will +bring some folks to knowledge." + +"Out of the depth into the light," said Clara, and our meal was over. + +The days flew by on wings, each wing a promise, and it was a week after +we plighted our vows ere I felt ready to read that letter and hear what +Louis had to say. Then something came to prevent, and another week had +passed when Louis said: + +"My Emily, I must have a talk with your father and mother. I cannot +feel quite satisfied, and it is only right they should be consulted, for +you are their own good girl. I would wait for their hearts to say, 'take +her,' if I waited years, but then, my Emily, it is neither giving nor +taking, for every change that is right does not ask us ever to give +ourselves or our loved ones away. I dislike that term." + +"You may wait, Louis; I will tell mother, and she can tell father." + +"No, no, Emily! It is I who ask for your hand, and is it not my +privilege as well as duty?" + +"What a strange man you are growing to be, Louis! Hal couldn't bear the +thought of telling mother or father his heart affairs, and I was the +medium of communication between them." + +"He feels differently about it," said Louis, "and yet he has the +tenderest heart I ever knew within the breast of a man." + +"He is a good brother, Louis. I could not ask a better." + +"Nor find one if you did." + +At that moment Matthias came in. Taking off his hat and saluting us in +his accustomed way, he said: + +"'Pears like I'll have to ask some of yere to go out in de woods a +piece--thar's a queer looking gal out thar, an' she's mighty nigh froze +to death; she is, sartin." + +"Where is she, Matthias?" + +"Clean over thar; quite a piece, miss." + +"Near any house?" I said. + +"Wall, miss, she mout be two or three good steps from that thar +brick-colored house." + +"Oh, clear over there? Well," I said, "I'll go over if Lou Desmonde will +go with me." + +"I will go, only never call me that again. Matthias calls me Mas'r +Louis, and he says I remind him of a mighty nice fellow down in South +Carliny," said Louis. + +"Yis, sah, you does," said Matthias. + +Telling mother and Aunt Hildy what we were going out to find, we +started. + +It was a very cold day, and through our warm clothing the winds of March +pierced the marrow of our bones. We found the woman, who proved to be, +as Matthias had said, nearly frozen. Louis took her right in his arms to +the nearest shelter, Mr. Goodwin's, the brick-colored house, and his +good, motherly wife had her put into the large west-room, where the +spare bed was made so temptingly clean, and with such an airy feather +mattress, that, light as she was, the poor girl sank into it almost out +of sight. Matthias brought wood and made a fire on the hearth, and Mrs. +Goodwin, Louis and I worked hard for an hour chafing her purple limbs, +her swelled feet and hands, and at last she turned her head uneasily, +and murmured: + +"The baby's dead--she is dead and I am going to her." + +Then a few words of home and some pictures. + +"Myself! myself!" she'd cry, "my picture; yes, my hair is beautiful; my +golden curls, he said; and my baby's hair; let me put it here." + +And she passed into a sleep from which it would seem she could never +waken. We sent Matthias back to tell mother, and say that we should both +stay all night if necessary. This girl could not be more than twenty, +we thought. Her fingers were small and tapering, and on her right hand +she wore a ring set with several diamond stones. Her dress was of silk, +and her shawl fine but thin. Her head covering had doubtless fallen off +and then been carried by the wind, for we saw nothing of it. She was a +beautiful picture as she lay there, for the blood had started and her +cheeks were flushed with fever, her lips parted, showing a set of teeth, +small, white and regular. Who could she be? Where did she come from? It +was about an hour after she fell asleep that she stirred, wakened, and +this time opened her eyes in which a conscious light was gathering. + +"Where am I? What is it?" + +Mrs. Goodwin stepped near her, Louis retreated from the room, and I kept +my seat by the hearth. + +"Dead, dead, I was dying but I am not dead; do tell me," she said, +putting both her hands out to Mrs. Goodwin. + +"You are sick, my child. We found you in the road and took you in. You +had lost your way." + +"Oh! oh!" she murmured, "can I stay all night?" + +"Oh, yes, stay a week or two, and get rested!" + +"May I go to sleep again? Who knows me here?" and again she fell asleep. +By this time Aunt Hildy appeared on the scene, and commanded me to go +home and stay there. + +"'Tain't no place for you; I've brought my herbs to stay and doctor her. +You go home and help your mother." I obeyed, of course, and when I left, +kissed the white forehead of the poor girl, and sealed it with a tear +that fell. + +She murmured: "Yes, all for love,--home, pictures, mother,--all left for +love, and the baby's dead. I'm going there." + +I went out into the crisp air with Louis' arm for support, and a +thousand strange thoughts whirling in my brain. "Great, indeed, must +have been the sorrow which could have driven so tender a plant from +home." + +"Yes," said Louis, "God pity the man whose ruthless hand has killed the +blossoms of her loving heart. She looks like little mother, Emily." + +"So she does, Louis." And we talked earnestly, forgetting everything but +this strange, sweet face. Supper was ready, and the rest were at the +table. + +"What have you been up to?" said Ben, "you look like two tombstones." I +related briefly the history, and concluded by saying: + +"She looks as frail as a flower." To which Mr. Benton added: + +"Doubtless her frailty, Miss Minot, is the cause of her present +suffering." + +"Poor lamb," said Clara, "how thankful we should feel that Matthias +found her." + +"Yes," said Louis, "and if he only could have thought to have carried +her into Mr. Goodwin's, and then come over after us, she would not have +so hard a struggle for life." + +"Do you think she can live?" said Mr. Benton. + +"Oh, yes!" said Louis, "the blood has started, and with Aunt Hildy by +her bedside she will be, by to-morrow, very comfortable. I think she had +not been there long when we found her." + +"Perhaps she will not thank you for bringing her back to life, however." + +"Perhaps not," said Louis, "still it seems a sacred duty, and in my +opinion, not finished with her mere return to life. She looks very +beautiful--looks like little mother," turning in admiration to Clara, +whose eyes reflected the love she held in her heart for him. + +Father and mother were silent, but after supper mother said they would +ride over and see if anything was necessary to be done that they could +attend to. My mother was too silent and too pale through these days. I +looked at the prospect of less work for her with pleasure, and after Mr. +Benton left there certainly would be less. Louis would have Hal's room, +and Clara then would see to their apartments almost entirely. This would +be a relief, and now that my mind was at ease, I knew I could be of more +service, while Aunt Hildy would still remain, for she said she would +make "Mis' Minot's burden as easy as she could, while the Lord gave her +strength to do it." + +After father and mother were gone, Louis sat with me in our +sitting-room, while Clara absented herself on the plea of something very +particular to attend to. I mistrusted what it might be, and looked at +her smilingly. "My Emily guesses it," she said, "something for the +little lamb. Emily will help me too, have I not said it?" and she passed +like a sweet breath from the room. + +"Now Louis," I said, as we sat together on the old sofa,--our +old-fashioned people called it "soffy,"--"let us look at that letter." + +He produced it from the pocket where it had lain in waiting, and we +read. Many lines were illegible entirely, but together we deciphered +much of it. "The baby is dead--she was beautiful, and if (here were two +words we could not make out), it would have been so nice (then two lines +blurred and indistinct, and another broken sentence). Where can your +letters ---- I am sure you write. If ---- then I shall go to find ----. +My father will give us ----" and from all these grief-laden sentences, +we gathered a story that struck us both as being almost made to coincide +with that of the poor lamb. + +"Louis," I said, "if this is the very Mary, what shall we do?" + +"We will do right and let problems be solved as best they can. First let +us understand about ourselves, then we can better act for others. How +did Mr. Benton annoy you?" + +Then I told him. + +"And you did not even think you loved him?" + +"Louis," I cried, "how could you think so, when my heart has been yours +always? How could you think of me in that light?" And those old tears +came into my eyes. + +"I could not convince myself that such was the case, but Wilmur Benton +gave me so to understand--said you were a coy damsel but a glorious +girl, and would make a splendid wife--'just such as I need,' he said, +'congratulate me.' + +"When, Louis, did he say this?" + +"The night of our walk; and it was this instead of the picture he talked +of." + +"You were cruel not to tell me," I said. + +"I waited for my year to finish as I had said I would, and then, Emily, +I waited longer for fear you did not know your heart. Matthias said to +me one day, 'Masr' Louis, dat man neber can gain de day ober thar; Miss +Emily done gone clar off de books, an he's such a bother--um--um.' This +set me to thinking; I asked him how he came to think so. 'Dunno, can't +help it, 'pears like dat gal's eyes tell me 'nuf.' All this was good to +hear, and I had watched you very closely for days, thinking every +morning, 'I will tell her before night;' and several times went into +Hal's room purposely, but Mr. Benton was always before me. It was +because you felt all this that the letter made you feel truly an opening +path--your tearful talk by the old apple tree was the 'sesame' that +opened the way to the light." + +"I do not like to feel that man is such a character as all these things +indicate," I said, adding dreamily, "but I never came very near to him. +He is a splendid artist, and still the canvas does not speak of his +soul." + +"How utterly void of feeling for those in bondage he seems to be! What a +cold crust covers him! Emily." + +"It hurts me to think you could for a moment believe I preferred him to +you." + +"You must not for a moment believe that in my soul I did, for it is not +true; but I knew your artless, loving heart, and I knew also Mr. Benton +had the power to polish sentences of flattery that might for a little +dazzle you, as it were." + +"And they did sometimes, Louis," I said, for I wanted the whole truth to +be made plain, while I felt his glittering eyes fastened on me, "but +not long. When I was alone, I saw your face and longed to hear again the +words you had said to me. We are both young, Louis, and I feared you did +not love me as you thought. I had no right to defend myself against Mr. +Benton's attacks by using your name with my own. And when the year was +past, then I still felt no right, and further," I added slowly, "to me +my love was a sacred picture I could not ask him to look at." + +"My Emily forever," said Louis, folding me closely to him. "Your fears +were groundless as to the changing of my love for you, but, as you say, +the picture was not for his eyes. Your suffering causes me sorrow, but +let us hope it has not been in vain." + +"It is all right, Louis, now, and I have said to myself, let 'Emily will +do it' be the words hereafter, for 'Emily did it' has passed, and with +this lesson, too, I hope, the second sin of omission, which in my heart +I characterize as 'Emily did not do it.' And now your little mother's +words lie just before me, reaching a long way through the years, 'Emily +will do it.'" + +"Amen," said a sweet voice, which was Clara's. "Emily has begun, and +when she goes to see the little lamb here are some things to take." + +"Do you want to see her, little mother?" + +"Not now, Louis; I cannot now look upon her sorrow. By-and-by," and over +her face came a shining mist, and through sweet sympathy's pure tears +her eyes looked earnestly, but she did not tell us of what she was +thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +MARY HARRIS. + + +I think we must all have dreamed of the lovely face over among the +pillows in Mr. Goodwin's west room, for we were hardly seated at the +breakfast table ere Ben said: + +"Wonder how that pretty girl is this morning?" + +"She was better when we left last night," said mother, "I thought she +appeared as if ready for a comfortable night; but shall hear soon if she +is better, Aunt Hildy will be home, and if not, Matthias will be over." + +"Wish I could see her--will she go right away?" + +"That I do not know," said mother, "we have yet to learn her history. +Mrs. Goodwin wanted Matthias to come over to-day, for after you left, +Emily, she called for 'Peter, colored Peter,' looking as if expecting to +find him. Matthias came into the room and brought some wood, while she +was awake, and when she saw him, she said, 'Oh, Peter! stay till I get +rested--I want to tell you.' He dropped his wood heavily, it gave him +such a start. He says no one ever called him that except some young +people down in Carolina, and it seems he named himself Peter, to their +great amusement, telling them that he 'cakilated to treat his old Mas'r +just as Peter treated de good Jesus.'" + +"Why, can it be possible he knows her?" I said. + +"He thinks not," said mother, "but this calling him Peter is singular +enough." + +"It seems very strange, and hardly possible she can have come so far," +said father. Louis' eyes as well as my own had been covertly scanning +Mr. Benton, and he was ill at ease. At the name of Peter his face grew +pale and his hand trembled; no one else noticing it, he rallied, but +made no remark whatever. Afterward Louis said to him: + +"What a strange experience this is of the girl we found!--truths are +queer things; I feel a real anxiety to find out about her. Do not you +feel interested?" His eyes fell as he answered: + +"Can't say that I do. You have more enthusiasm than myself. Having known +more years, I am taught to let people look out for themselves very much. +But that old Matthias I don't like. It may be all a put up +job--something to bring credit or money to himself--you can't trust that +darky." + +"Why," said Louis, "_I_ would trust him, and so far as this young lady +is concerned, a different person from Matthias is at the root of the +matter. I have a desire to know the truth and help the girl." + +"She may be your fate, Louis." + +"No," he replied, "Mr. Benton, that is not possible, my 'fate,' as you +call it, is my Emily." + +"Miss Minot?" said Benton, "great heavens! Has that girl played me +false?" + +"I think not," said Louis calmly, "and since the subject is broached, +perhaps it will be best for me to tell you that Emily is to be my wife, +her parents being willing." + +"You _are a gentleman_, truly! I gave you my confidence and expected"-- + +"Do not say more," said Louis, raising his hand deprecatingly against +the coming falsehood, "do not help me to despise you. I am too sorry +that I am forced to know what you said to me was untrue, and also to +realize what my Emily has suffered and kept in her own heart." + +"Louis Desmonde," said Mr. Benton, "do you realize what you are saying?" + +"Only too well, sir; do not force me to say more. I admire your art. I +am willing to help you to be a man." + +"_Indeed!_" replied Mr. Benton. "Philanthropic _boy_! who talks to a man +of years and judgment!" + +It was a bitter pill for him, and I believe it was the knowledge of +Louis' money, and of his own great need of it, that forced him to +retreat in silence, while Louis sought and told me of their interview. + +"How could you help telling him of the letter, Louis?" + +"I did not have to try to help it, for I want to be sure of all I say to +him, and as far as I spoke I had perfect authority. He may at some time +need my help, though he spurned the aid of his 'philanthropic boy.'" + +"_Boy_," said I, "you are old enough to be his father in goodness, but +here comes Aunt Hildy. The poor lamb must be better, else she would not +come back so soon," and I opened the door for her entrance. + +"I know what you're after," she said, "she's better; the poor thing +will get well. Oh dear! land! I wonder, when'll the same old story end." + +"Has she told it to you, Aunt Hildy?" + +"Partly to me and partly to Mis' Goodwin." (Aunt Hildy never said Mrs. +---- married or single, it was always Miss.) "She'll tell you all about +it, I guess, for she wants to see you. She remembers your dark eyes, and +Matthias she calls Peter--yes, she does, now she's come clean to her +senses, and when she gets a little more strength, she says she must see +him, and the dark eyes too; so you'll have to go over. Mis' Goodwin said +mebbe you'd better wait till to-morrer, and so says Brother Davis. He +come over and brought a few of his powders--he wanted to do something. I +told him we could fetch her out straight--Mis' Goodwin and me--and I +think he'd better tend to himself--says he's got a dreadful pain under +his shoulder blades; acts as if he's goin' to be sick." + +"Could the young lady eat anything, Mrs. Patten?" said Louis. + +"Mercy! yes, I've made gruel twice for her and she's all right, only +she'll be lame and sore-like for a good while, but I must go to work, +I've been gone long enough. Where's your mother?" And the dear old soul +hastened to her duties. + +Our supper table was enlivened by the news that Aunt Hildy brought, all +being interested with the exception of Mr. Benton, who was well covered +with dignity. Part of that evening, Louis and I spent with Hal and Mary. +I longed to tell them all about the letter and Mr. Benton's deceit, but +as we entered, Louis whispered, "Let us be discreet," and I answered, +"Emily will do it." He was so much wiser that our years told a story +when they said "only a month's difference in their ages." Hal and Mary +were much interested in the poor lamb, and like ourselves hoped to learn +her history, and help her as she must need. Our visits here were always +pleasant, and when we said "good night," a sincere "God bless you" rose +from our hearts. We entered our sitting-room, to find Clara sitting +between mother and father, and the three evidently enjoying a home talk. +After we were seated, and a lull in the conversation came, Louis +startled me by saying: + +"Mr. and Mrs. Minot, I want to ask of you a favor--greater than the one +granted my little mother; perhaps so great that you will fail to grant +it; but it is worth the asking, worth the waiting for through years. May +I call Emily my wife?" + +My father looked strangely, and did not reply for a moment, while +mother's face was covered with that pleasant smile, which from earliest +years I had considered, "_yes_." Louis' eyes were bent on my father, +who, when he answered, said: + +"You are both young, Louis." + +"Yes, sir, I know it, and I do not ask to make her my wife now. But I +love her, Mr. Minot, and it is not right we should hold a position not +sanctioned by you. I shall feel better if you are willing to consider +us, as we feel, pledged to each other." + +"I cannot say _no_, but I have thought--Mr. Benton has asked me the same +question, and I hardly know what to say--I said to him, 'If Emily is +willing, I will not oppose your suit.'" + +"Oh!" I cried, "father, he has told such stories!" + +Louis said: "We can explain that satisfactorily, Mr. Minot, but if there +are other objections in your mind, let us know what they are." + +My father was not a man who expressed himself freely, and Louis was so +unlike other young men that he was embarrassed evidently, and there was, +as it seemed to me, a long silence ere he said: + +"I have no objections, Louis. I believe you mean what you say, and also +have enough of your mother in you to treat our girl well. I cannot see +why your plans may not be carried out so far as I am concerned." + +He looked at mother, who smiled a consent, and Louis stepped toward them +both, shook their hands heartily, and said: + +"I thank you." + +His way of manifesting feeling was purely French, and belonged to +him--it was not ours, but we came to like it, and as my father often +said, when Clara came she unlocked many a door that had been shut for +years. Too many of our best ideas were kept under covering, I knew, and +the hand of expressive thought was one which loosened the soil about +their roots, giving impetus to their growth and sweetness to their +blossoms. We knew more of each other daily, and is not this true through +life? Do not fathers and mothers live and die without knowing their +children truly, and all of them looking through the years for that which +they sorely need, and find it not? Their confidence in each other +lacking, lives have been blasted, hopes scattered almost ere they were +born, and generations suffered in consequence. It was the blessed +breaking of day to me, the freedom to tell my mother what I thought; and +after Clara, became one of us, I could get much nearer to my father. The +full tide of her feeling swept daily over the harbor bar of our lives, +and we enjoyed together its great power. Her heart was beneficent, and +her hand sealed it with the alms she gave freely. She was always +unobtrusive, and anxious in every way to avoid notoriety. + +Deacon Grover who had heard and known with others of her numerous +charities, offered advice in that direction, and said to Aunt Hildy, + +"If that rich lady would just walk up and give a few hundreds to the +church fund it would help mightily." + +Aunt Hildy had replied: + +"Yes, yes, Deacon Grover, it would be nice for lazy folks to let the +minister do all the saving, and somebody else all the paying. I believe +faith without works is jest exactly like heavy bread, and will not be +accepted at the table of the Lord." + +"He never said another word to me," said she; "that man knows he has a +right to be better." + +This was a conceded fact, and it always seemed to me he ought not to be +carrying his deaconship in one hand, and his miserably small deeds in +the other. Hypocrites were in existence among all people, and while +thoroughly despised by them, still held their places, and do yet, as far +as my knowledge and experience go. + +Early the morning of the next day, Matthias came over to tell us about +that "poor gal," as he called her. + +"She wants to see you, Miss Emily, and they say she wants to talk to me +too. Mis' Goodwin said ''pears like you'd better come over thar 'bout +three o'clock to-day, if you can.' She's right peart, an' by 'nuther +mornin', 'spect she'll call loud for me." + +"Do you think you know her, Matthias?" + +"Can't say I do, Miss, but seems queer enough, she 'sists on callin' of +me 'Peter'--um--gimme sich a feelin' when she spoke dat word," and +Matthias looked as if his heart was turning back to his old home, and +its never-to-be-forgotten scenes. + +Mother sent a basket of delicacies over by him, and Aunt Hildy said: + +"Tell Miss Goodwin I'm goin' to bake some of my sweet cookies and send +over, and we can make some bread for her; 'twill help along--don't +forget it Matthias." + +"No, marm, I'll 'member sure," and off he started. As he passed along +the path I thought of a word I wanted to say, and ran out of the door in +time to see the shadow of a form which I knew must be waiting in the +"angle" as we called it. It was where the east L ended, about ten feet +from the main front. In the summer I had a bed of blue violets here, and +named it "Violet Angle.' I stopped, for I heard a voice, and saw +Matthias turn to this spot instead of passing on to the gate as usual. +The first salutation I did not hear, but Matthias' reply was "yaas sah." +The voice was Mr. Benton's, and I stood riveted to the spot. + +"Who is that girl, Matt?" he said. + +"Dunno, sah." + +"Don't know? Yes, you do know; you can't play your odds on me. I'm not +ready to swallow all I hear. I want you to tell me who that girl is, +and how she came here." + +"I dunno, sah, sartin." + +"Matt, I don't believe a word you say; first tell me the truth." + +"Massar Benton, you're a queer man. Dis niggah shan't tell you no lies, +but de Lord's truf, I dunno noffin 'bout." + +"You don't know me either, do you?" and he laughed ironically. + +"Never thought I did," said Matthias; "'pears like long ways back I see +some face like yours, but I dunno. Good many faces looks alike roun' +yere." + +"Yes, yes," says Benton, "you've said enough, you black rascal; and you +_mark my words_, if you've raised the devil, as I think you have, I'll +cowhide you. I'll give you something to remember me by, you old fool; +and you a'nt a fool either; you're as cunning as Satan is wicked." + +"De Lord forgive you," said Matthias, "you're done gone clar from your +senses. I dunno who dat gal is, an I dunno who you is, an' what more kin +I say?" + +"I know who you are, and I know you were the slave of Sumner down in +South Carolina." + +"Yaas," said Matthias, "dat's so; but how does you know 'bout me? Did +you come down thar? 'Haps dat's de reason you're face kinder makes me +look back, an it mos' allus does; 'pears like you mout explain." + +"Yes, s'pose I _mout_," said Benton, "and I reckon you will before we +get through." + +"Wal," said Matthias, "if you wait till you gits evidence fo' you gives +dat hidin' you talks 'bout, I've got plenty ob time to go over to de +groun' room," and he walked off at his old gait, slow but sure, while I, +turning, ran into the house and told mother what I had heard. + +She raised her hands in a sort of holy horror, but only said: + +"What does it mean?" + +"It means," said Aunt Hildy, "that man's a rascal; I told you, Mis' +Minot, he was when I first set eyes on him, and I've kept good track of +Emily, for when he see he couldn't get the 'rich widder,' that's what he +calls our good little creetur Clara, then he tacked round and set sail +for Emily, and he's been a torment to her, and I know it. Thank the +Lord, he's shown his cloven foot; I wish Mr. Minot had heard it. _He_ +laughs at me, thinks I'm a fool, but I've seen through him if I do wear +an old cloak. It's mine, and so is my wit, what little I've got." + +Aunt Hildy stepped up lively and worked every moment, keeping time to +her thoughts and giving great expression by her peculiar accenting of +words. Clara heard us, and came in "to the rescue," she said, "for it +sounded as if somebody was getting a scolding." + +I repeated my story, and although she rarely used French expressions, +this time she clasped her little hands together, sank into a chair, and +said: + +"Oh! Emélie, j'ai su depuis longtemps, qu'il nous ferait un grand tort. +Le pauvre agneau! Le pauvre agneau!" + +"What will father do?" I said to mother. + +"I cannot think of anything to do except to help the poor girl; his own +punishment is sure, Emily; we are not his masters. 'Vengeance is mine, +saith the Lord,'" she quoted calmly. + +"Yes," said Aunt Hildy, "that's the spirit to have, but I believe if I +had really heard it as Emily did, I'd have risked it to throw a pan of +dish water on him." + +I could not help laughing--we were having a real drama in the kitchen. +Great tears had gathered in Clara's eyes, and I said to her: + +"Now this will upset you. I'm sorry you heard it." + +"No, no," she said, "but the poor lamb, I can hardly wait for the time +when I may see her." + +"Can you ever speak to Mr. Benton again?" I said to mother. + +"I should hope so, Emily. I feel great pity for him; he might be a +better man. We are taught toleration not of principles, but certainly of +men, and I think if our Heavenly Father will forgive him, we can afford +to, and then it would be very unwise to let him know we are cognizant of +this." + +My mother reminded me so many times of the light that burns steadily in +a light-house on a ledge. The waves, washing the solid rock, and wearing +even the stone at its base, have no power to disturb the lamp, which, +well trimmed, burns silently on, throwing its beams far out to sea, and +fanning hope in the heart of the sailor, who finds at last the shore and +blesses the beacon light. + +I admired her calm and steadfast trust in the truth, that bore her along +in her daily doing right toward all with whom she mingled, but I well +knew she would be righteously indignant toward Mr. Benton, and also +that the whole truth, with the letter and the story of "the lamb," would +soon be forthcoming. I could hardly wait for the recital which I +expected to hear in the afternoon, and entered Mrs. Goodwin's door at +three o'clock precisely. + +She was glad to see me, and said cheerily: + +"Take off your things, Emily, and I'll show you right in, for Miss +Harris is waiting anxiously." + +I thought she looked beautiful the night we found her, but to-day she +was a marvellous picture, sitting among the white pillows. Her cheeks +were touched here and there with pink, as if rose leaves had left their +tender stain--her eyes beautifully bright, and such depths of blue, with +arched brows above them, and long brown lashes for a shield. Her hair +rippled over her shoulders in brown curls, and around her was thrown the +light India shawl she had about her on that sad night. She smiled with +pleasure as I entered, and beckoned me to her bedside, while Mrs. +Goodwin said: + +"Take the old splint rocker, Emily. I am going to let you stay two long +hours." + +How gratefully the poor lamb's eyes turned upon the good woman! + +"This young lady's name is Harris." + +"Yes," said Miss Harris "Mary Abigail Harris, after my mother." + +I kissed her forehead, and then took the seat proffered, sitting so near +her that I could lean on the side of the bed as I listened to the story. + +Mrs. Goodwin left us alone, and the recital began: + +"I remembered your eyes, Miss Minot, and I wanted to tell you all about +it--how I came to be here, needing the help you so kindly gave. Oh, I +shudder," she said, "as I think how it might have been that never again +my mother could have seen me!" + +Her face grew pale, but no tears came, and I could see a resolute look +that gave signs of strong will, and for this I felt inwardly thankful. + +"I came from my home," said she, "in search of my husband. Three years +ago I was married in my father's house to Wilmur Bentley, who came South +from his Northern home on an artist's tour, selling many pictures and +painting more. He lived in our vicinity for some months with a friend, a +wealthy planter by the name of Sumner." I started involuntarily. "There +were two of these gentlemen--brothers--and they owned large plantations +with many colored people. Mr. Bentley had every appearance of a +gentleman of honor, and none of us ever doubted his worth. My father +gave him a pleasant welcome and a home, and for three brief months we +were happy. Suddenly a cloud fell upon him; he appeared troubled, and +said 'Mary, I must go North--I have left some tangled business snarls +there, which I must see to.' He left, promising an early return. The +letters I received from him were frequent, and beautifully tender in +their expressions of love for me. I was happy; but the days wore into +weeks, and his return still delayed. I began to feel anxious and +fearful, when I received a letter from Chicago, saying he had been +obliged to go to that city on business, and would be unavoidably +detained. He would like me to come to him, if it were not for fear of +my being too delicate to bear the journey. My parents would have been +quite unwilling also, for the promise of the days lay before me, and +with this new hope that it would not be so very long ere he would come, +I was again contentedly happy. The letters grew less frequent, and the +days grew long, and when September came my little girl came too, and how +I longed for her father to come. + +"My parents telegraphed him of the event, saying also, 'Come, if +possible--Mary is in a fever of anxiety,' but he did not come; the +telegram was not replied to, and although dangerously ill, I lived. Now +the letters came no more, and I, still believing in his goodness, felt +sure that he was either sick or dead. My little Mabel lived one year. +Oh, how sweet she was! and one month after her death I received a letter +asking why I was so silent, telling me of great trouble and overwhelming +me with sorrow. I answered kindly, but my father was convinced by this +that he was a 'villain,' to use his own expression. The fact of his not +writing for so long, and then writing a letter almost of accusation +against me, made me feel fearful, and as I looked back on my suffering, +determined, if it were possible to some day know the truth. My answer to +the letter I speak of was received, and he again wrote, and this time +told me a pitiful tale of the loss by fire of all his artist +possessions, and his closing sentence was 'we may never meet again, for +in the grave I hope to find refuge from want. If you desire to answer +this, write 'without delay. It is hard to bear poverty and want.' + +"I felt almost wild, and gave father the letter, hoping to receive a +generous donation from him, but my father said, 'Molly, darling, (that +is my name at home), the villain lies! no, no, pet, not a cent.' I cried +myself ill, and sent him my wedding ring, a diamond, his gift, since +which I have heard nothing. + +"I told my father after it was gone, and if he had not loved me so much, +I should have felt the power of angry words. He was angry, but he +thought of all I had suffered, and he took me right up in his arms, and +cried over me. 'Mollie, darling, it is too bad; you have a woman's +heart. I would to God the man had never been born. + +"I had a dear friend to whom I had confided all my sorrow--a Virginia +lady, married and living in Boston. Her husband, Mr. Chadwick, is a +merchant there, and every year she spends three or four months with her +Southern friends. One brother lives in Charleston, my home. We have been +attached to each other for years, and my father and mother love her +dearly. Three weeks ago she arrived at her home in Boston, having been +South four months, and at her earnest solicitation I came also. She knew +my heart and how determined I was to find Mr. Bentley, and felt willing +to aid me in any way possible. We went about the city, and I devoted +myself especially to looking at paintings and statuary. I found at last +by chance a picture with the name, not of 'Bentley,' but of 'Benton' on +it. I traced it to Chicago, and proved it to be his, and there from his +own friends gathered the facts which led me on his track." + +"Oh!" I cried. + +"Wait," said she, "More, Miss Minot; he has a wife, or at least there +is a poor woman with two boys living in poverty in the suburbs of +Boston, to whom he was married ten years ago. I have been to see her, +but did not disclose my secret. Mrs. Chadwick has known of this for a +long time, but dared not tell me until I got strong, and was in the +North with her. I gave that woman money to help her buy bread, and Mrs. +Chadwick will see to her now. She is a lovely character. Benton's home +is near this place where she lives, and he goes there once in a great +while. Now about my clothes--when I started for this place I was well +clad, and the first of my journey quiet and calm, but I think my +excitement grew intense, and I must have lost myself utterly. I know it +was a week ago when I left Boston, and now as I look back, I remember +looking at my baby's picture and everything growing dim in the cars. +This India shawl was thrown about my neck, but it seems when you found +me I had no other covering. I found the purse where I had sewed it in my +dress, but my cloak and bonnet and furs, all are gone. + +"I can remember how the name of this place kept ringing in my ears, and +I must have asked for it and found it, even though I cannot remember one +word. After the baby's picture your eyes came before me, and then old +Peter." + +Looking at the clock, she said: + +"It is only half an hour since you came in, and will you ask Peter to +come in and see me? I'm sure I hear him talking in the other room." + +I stepped to the door, and there was Matthias. + +I said to Mrs. Goodwin: + +"Miss Harris wishes to see Peter, she says." + +She looked at Matthias, and then said: + +"Well, come in, and we'll find out what she means, if we can." + +He walked solemnly along to her bedside, and stood as if amazed. + +"Peter," said she, "you know me; I am Mary Harris, and you lived with +Mr. Charles Sumner--do say you know me. You said you would deny your +master, and you did it," and she held her hands to him. + +He reached forth his own and took the jewelled fingers tenderly in his +dark palm as if half afraid; then the tears came, forcing their way, and +with an effort he said: + +"Oh! oh! honey chile--can't be pos'ble--what's done happin to ye, and +whar was ye gwine?" + +"Never mind, Peter, but do you remember the man who painted beautiful +pictures, and stopped awhile with your master's brother?" + +"Sartin, I does." + +"William Bentley he said was his name, but it was Benton; he told us a +story." + +"De great Lord, Molly chile, you's foun' him, sure--de debbil's got a +hold on dat man, an'--" + +But I looked a warning, and he waited. + +"You remember him then, Peter; he had a light moustache, a pleasing +mouth--a very nice young man we thought him to be." + +"Yas, yas, dar's whar de mistake come in, wit dat 'ar mustaff," said +Matthias dreamily. + +"What mistake?" she said. + +"Oh! de good Lord bress you, honey, what does you want of dis man?" + +"I want to tell him something, and I heard he was here, and now will you +find him for me?" + +"I will, Miss Molly, 'ef I dies dead for it--de Lord help us." + +"Do you think you can?" + +"I knows dat ar to be a fack." + +"Oh, Peter! I am glad; where is he?" + +Poor Matthias looked at me, and I said, "Now, Miss Harris, you must not +talk anymore, and I will help Matthias, for I think I know where this +man is." + +She shut her eyes and sank back among her pillows, looking tired and +pale--the knowledge that this destroyer of her hopes was so near was, +though looked for and expected, more than she could really bear. + +Mrs. Goodwin left the room, motioning to Matthias to follow, and I sat +quietly thinking of what to do, when she opened her eyes and said to me: + +"I have written to Mrs. Chadwick, and also to mother, and she will send +mother's letter from Boston. I cannot write to her of this; it would +worry her so; and now, as I can see Wilmur and say to him what I desire, +I shall leave you." + +"It will kill you to see him." + +"You are mistaken. I know I look frail, but I can endure much, and I do +not love him any more though he was my Mabel's father. I want him to go +to his poor wife and do right if he can. She loves him and is deluded +into believing the strangest things. Robberies and fires and anything +he thinks of are an excuse for not sending her money." + +"Oh! he needs hanging," I said. + +"No, no, Miss Minot; if he is unfit for our society he certainly would +find nobody to love him there; I am not seeking revenge, though his +punishment is sure enough. In two days more I shall be strong enough to +see him. Oh, I do hope Peter will find him!" + +She needed rest, and I said: + +"Now it is best for me to go, and when I come again I would like to +bring a beautiful friend." + +"Oh, yes," she said, "and do come to-morrow!" + +She bade me a reluctant "Good bye," and I told Matthias, I wanted him to +walk home with me. + +My walk homeward with Matthias gave me the needed opportunity to talk +with him, where naught save the air wandering off to the hills could +hear us. I told him of the conversation which I had overheard, and also +that I proposed to take the burden on my own shoulders of revealing to +Miss Harris the fact of Mr. Benton being with us. "For," I said, +"Matthias, it will hardly be safe for you to bear all this. He believes, +I think, that you have helped Miss Harris to find him, and has been +looking out for trouble since you came to us, for he warned both Louis +and myself, and told us not to trust you. He did not, of course, say he +knew you; that would not have done at all. But I will do all she asks, +then your poor old shoulders will be relieved a little." + +"Jes as you say, Miss Emly, pears like its queer nuf an' all happin too, +an' ef he had worn just dat mustaff, without de whiskers, I'd know him +yere straight off. I said long nuf, he set me on de tinkin +groun--um--um--here come Mas'r Louis lookin' arter his gal, I reckin, +mighty wise he is; I'd tote a long ways ef 'twas to help him." + +Louis went to the village early and had returned to hear from Clara's +lips my morning discovery, and came to meet me, anxious to learn the +story of the poor lamb, which I rehearsed, having time to tell it all +during the rest of the walk, and ending with "it is strange enough to +make a book," just as we entered our gate. + +Louis said the cloud must break ere long; and when Matthias left I +followed along the path behind him, feeling that Mr. Benton might again +assail him, and I was not mistaken. + +"Look here," came from the angle, and "yas, sah," from Matthias as he +turned to answer. + +"What did you come home with Miss Minot for?" said Benton. + +"Kase she axed me too, sah." + +"Whom has she been to see?" + +"Dat poor gal." + +"Who is that girl, do you know? + +"Yas, sah," said the honest old man. + +"You know more to-day than you did yesterday." + +"Yas, sah." + +"Why don't you tell me who she is." + +"You did'nt ax me, you said did I know?" + +"I don't want any of your nigger talk. I want her name, and by the great +----" + +"Look yer, Mas'r Benton, if you's gwine to dip in an' swar, I'll tote +long by myself." + +"Well, tell me who she is." + +"She tole me she was dat little Molly Harris dat lived down in +Charleston, an--" + +"How in thunder did she get here?" + +"Dunno, sah." + +"You do know, and I tell you you'll make money to tell me all about it." + +"Dunno nothin' moah. I said dat same word, how you git yere, and she say +never min 'bout dat." + +"What else did she say, what does she want?" + +"Wall, de res ob what she tell me, 'pears like she didn't 'spect me +tell. I'll go over thar, an' tell her you wants to know, an--" + +"The devil you will, you impudent rascal--all I want to know is if she +wants to find me." + +"De good Lord, dat's de berry secret I don't want to tell." + +"Ah! ha! my fine fellow, caught at last." + +"Well," said he, "ef de Lord was right yere in dis vilit angil he'd say +Matt dunno nothin' 'bout how de poor lamb got roun' to dis town." + +"I don't know how to believe this, but now look here, Matt, if you'll go +over there and tell her I've gone to Chicago, I'll do something nice for +you. I'll get you a suit of nicer clothes than you ever had, and a shiny +hat--hey, what do you say?" + +"Mas'r Benton," said Matthias slowly, "I'm never gwine to tell a lie an' +set myself in de place whar Satan hisself can ketch a holt an me. No, +sah, 'pears like I'm ready to do what's right, but dat ain't right +nohow, an' 'pears, too, its mighty funny you's so scart of dat poor +little milk-faced gal. Trus' in de Lord, Mas'r Benton, an' go right on +over thar--she can't hurt you nohow." + +"Don't talk your nonsense to me; you're on her side, she's bought you, +but I'll be even with you; I'll slap your face now to make a good +beginning." + +"No, sah," said Matthias, "I'm done bein' a slave jes now, an' ef you +want to make me hit you I shall jes do it; fur you no bizness in de law +specially tryin' to put it on a poor ole nigger who can't go by ye +'thout your grabbin' at him jes ready to kill, an' all kase you's done +suthin' you's shamed of an' tinks he knows it. I'm gwine over to the +groun' room." + +I feared Mr. Benton would strike him, and I ran to the gate, and stood +there while Matthias passed out and along the road. Mr. Benton +disappeared suddenly. + +Supper-time was at hand, and there had been no time to tell mother what +I had heard of Miss Harris' history. At the table Ben, as usual, had +inquiries to make, and I said, "Oh! she is better, Ben; you shall see +her, for she will stay a long time." + +"Where did she come from, Emily?" + +From Charleston, South Carolina. + +"Well, ain't that funny?" said he; "that's the very place Matthias came +from, and perhaps she does know him after all." + +"Oh! yes, she does," I replied, and raising my eyes to meet Mr. Benton's +gaze, I shot the truth at him with a dark glance; his own eyes fell, and +he looked as if overwhelmed with confusing thoughts; and the +consciousness of being foiled roused the demon within him. This, +however, was not the time or place to unbottle his wrath, and it must +swell silently within. + +My father began to feel the shadows thickening round him, and he kindly +forbore to say a word regarding the matter, as did also mother. Aunt +Hildy moved a little uneasily in her chair, and I knew she could have +said something as cutting as a knife, but did not. As for me, I could +and did talk on other things, and congratulated myself on another +victory. I afterward told mother all Miss Harris said, and she remarked +quietly: + +"I am very thankful she is his wife." + +"Well, but she isn't," I said. + +"Yes, I know, Emily, the previous marriage would be held as the only +lawful tie, but it is much better than it might have been. She has a +good home and parents, and is young. Years will restore her. I cannot +see, however, why she should have taken the pains to find him here." + +"For the reason that she desires to plead with him for the wife and boys +that are in need, and is a strong noble woman too,--why, she will have +the strength of a lion when she gets well, and there is a resolute +determination on her part to place before Mr. Benton a plain picture of +his duty." + +"Hem!" said Aunt Hildy, "she can get her picture all ready and put on +the prettiest paint in the market,--that man will be gone in less than +twenty-four hours. Can't I see which way his sails are set?" Our back +door-sill never was swept cleaner than where this sentence fell. + +"That may be," said mother; "I hope he will, for it seems to me we have +too great a duty to perform if he stays. I feel ill able to undertake +the task." + +Aunt Hildy turned to hang up her broom, saying as she did so: + +"I'd like to have your sister Phebe give him a lecture--she'd tear him +all to pieces jest as easy as shellin' an ear of corn. I like to hear +her talk; she ain't afraid of all the lies that can be invented. What a +good hit she give Deacon Grover that night when he come in with his +ideas of nothin' spillin' over. She talked good common sense, and hew as +the subject, for it was all about a hypocrite. He did'nt stay to see if +he could get a mug of cider to save his own, but set mighty uneasy and +was off for home before eight o'clock. That done me good." + +That evening was spent by me in conversation with Louis. Next morning at +the breakfast table the subject of the poor lamb was not broached, and +directly after, when the stage came along, Mr. Benton took it to go to +the village on business. + +"There," said Aunt Hildy, "he never'll step on to this door-sill +again--but I would'nt throw a horseshoe after him if I knew it would be +good luck. He don't deserve any." + +"Why, he hasn't taken as much as a carpet-bag," said my father, "of +course, he will be back again." + +"No, sir, Mr. Minot; that feller is up to snuff--he ain't going to stop +now for any duty pictures," and she turned to her work as if satisfied +with having made a true prophecy. + +I spoke to Clara about going over to see Miss Harris, and she felt +inclined to go that morning. + +"Louis, too, may go," she said. "Come, dear boy." + +We were very welcome, and found Miss Harris seated in the old rush-chair +before the fire-place. Her dress was a most becoming wrapper of blue +(she found it in Clara's bundle) her hair falling as on the previous +day in natural curls, and the same India shawl thrown over her sloping +shoulders. She was exactly Clara's size, and when the two came together, +Clara said, "We are sisters surely." But afterward, as they sat side by +side, I could see such a difference. Alike in form and complexion, also +having regular features, yet the light in our Clara's eyes was +incomparably purer, savored less of earth. Miss Harris' face was sweet, +truthful, the lines of her mouth alone defining her powerful will and +courage. She was very beautiful, but earthly, while over my own Clara's +face there fell the unmistakable light of something beyond. Oh! my +saving angel, how my heart beat as I sat there drawing the comparison, +giving to Miss Harris a place in the sitting-room of my womanly feeling, +and yielding to my beloved Clara the entire room where lay the purest +thoughts which had been boon to my spirit, coming to life at the touch +of her tender hand! She was a beacon light in the wilderness of thought. + +"Tell me, Miss Minot," said Miss Harris, "tell me all you know, for I +feel you do know much." + +I explained Mr. Benton's coming to stay with us, and when I said he took +the stage this morning for town, and will be back, I suppose-- + +"Never," she interrupted, "he has heard I am here." + +"Yes," I said, and repeated his conversation with Matthias. + +"I am then foiled, but he will not elude the truth that goes with him. +He may have gone to his waiting wife. Mrs. Chadwick will write me, for +she will not lose sight of her." + +No tears came to her eyes, but the determined look deepened as it were +into strength, and she said: + +"It is too bad. I did hope to be able to make him do his duty. Now I +must hasten to become strong, and go back to Boston. I will find him +yet--I'm sure I will." + +She talked freely of her Southern home, and expressed comfort at the +hope of one day seeing us there. + +"I need a little help to get there myself," she said; "I have no +cloak--can you get one for me, Miss Minot? I am fortunate enough to be +able to pay for it, my purse being with me." + +Louis looked admiringly at the girl-woman (for such she seemed to be), +and when our call ended said to her: + +"When you are strong enough to leave, may you receive great help to do +what seems to be your whole duty; and if little mother or myself can aid +you, please command us." + +"Thank you," she said, "you remind me much of my dark-eyed Southern +friends." We took our departure. It was only one week after that the old +stage carried her from our sight; but we did not forget her, nor the sad +experience which had developed in her so great a strength. + +Mr. Benton did not return, as Aunt Hildy predicted, and the stage +brought a note for Hal, in which he said he was unavoidably detained, +having found important letters at the village. He would write him a long +letter, and the letter came after ten days' waiting, bearing the +postmark of ---- (he was with his wife). He wrote that he was with a +friend, and some unexpected business relations would keep him there for +a time. He desired his belongings sent to him, if it would not trouble +Hal too much. He feared that it would be a long time ere he would be +again situated amongst such pleasant surroundings, "and they are, as you +well know, so much needed by an artist," he said. I do wonder what the +man thought. Hal and Mary had not known Miss Harris' story, but Louis +had read the letter to Hal, and his perfidy was apparent to all. No word +had been said, however, and I presume he (not learning about the +letters) thought Hal still a good friend, which was in fact the case. +Hal said: + +"I would not lose sight of him for the world. Emily, his hand was one of +those which led me across the bridge of sighs when my art was coming to +life, and I shall help him. He may yet need more than we know." + +"We can afford to pity him, but what about his wife, Hal?" + +"His wife I intend to see. Let us hope he will yet prove of some +assistance to her." + +"Good brother! blessed brother! I have felt so angry with him, Hal, but +I will try to be good. Of course Mary will be with you." + +"She thinks he needs a little punishment, but I tell her to be patient, +and to let the days tell us their story." + +"Amen," said the voice of our Clara, who was always in the right place, +"and may we not hope for all the suffering ones. There are bruised +hearts all around us. Let the precious nutriment of our love and care +fall on them as the dew, calling forth tender blossoms, whose perfume +may mingle with their lives. Wisdom and strength, my Emily, will help us +to these things, and the prayer of England's church be not so sadly +true." + +It was a relief to us all, and we could take long breaths now that Mr. +Benton had gone, and mysteries solved had opened before us a vista of +quiet days, into which our feet would gladly turn. We had to talk him +over thoroughly, and I was glad to be able to say at last: + +"Peace to his memory; let him rest." + +The letter we expected from the sweet girl-woman came, and we heard each +week of her and her unrewarded search going on. At last, when out from +the snows blue violets sprang, there came a letter, saying, + +"It is done. I found him looking at a lovely picture, one of his own. It +was a fancy sketch, but the face, eyes and hair, those of Mrs. Desmonde, +I know. He had clothed her in exquisitely lovely apparel, and she was +looking out over a waste of waters, but I cannot describe it justly. If +her son were here, he would secure it at any price. I touched his +shoulder; he turned, and with the strangest look in his eyes. He sought +even then to avoid me, thinking probably I might prove a tempest in a +teapot, and make a terrible scene. I said quietly, 'I am only desirious +of two hours' conversation with you;' introduced Mrs. Chadwick to him as +to a friend, and invited him to call; gave him my card and turned away, +naming an hour the ensuing day; for I knew he would come. My manner +disarming him, I really believe he felt relieved to know I was not on +his track with weapons of law. He came, and I received him almost +cordially. The parlor had been left for us, and my friend, at my +request, sat outside the door where she could hear all that passed. Of +course, I cannot tell you what I said, but my revelations were +startlingly true, and he could not gainsay them, neither did he try to. +He seemed rather astonished that I no longer desired his companionship +and the great love which every true woman needs. I answered with spirit, +and just as I felt, that while his love might be boundless, it could no +longer be anything for me. I knew his soul was capable of maintaining +the appearance of purity of thought long enough to delineate its outline +on canvas, and while I admired his talent in verse, I had tasted the +bitter dregs of his falseness, and was now thoroughly undeceived as to +his character. Never again could I be misled by the semblance of a love +which had no reality beneath its honeyed words. I told him also that our +angel Mabel had been orphaned by his cruelty. And oh! how strong I felt +when I said, 'Go to your own wife, whose burden I would not increase by +revealing my own terrible secret. Live for her and those two boys. +Redeem yourself in the eyes of your God as well as before those whom you +have so foully wronged. If you will do this, I will say the peace of +well-doing be with you.' He really felt the power of my words, and +honored me for them, I know, and when he left my presence, he said: + +"'If life should hold for me henceforth some different purposes, would +you be my friend? and if in the great hereafter we shall meet, will +Mabel be with me there? I wish I could have seen her. Forgive me, Mary; +you are heaping coals of fire on my head. I thought you sought my utter +destruction.' + +"'My father would have appealed to you only through the law,' I said, +'but that would have been wrong, and would leave you no chance to grow +better. Go, and do right, and there is yet time for redemption.' + +"'But you--what of you?' he asked. + +"'I rise from beneath the weight of sorrow that covered me so early in +life, to find there is yet much worth living for. I shall live and be +happy.' They were not false tears, the drops that fell on my hand at +parting; and I said, after he had gone: + +"'Thank God who giveth me the victory.' My friend expected me to faint +or moan, or make some sign of distress. No, I felt a great joy within, +and I believe he will do better. I inclose to you some verses he sent me +at the time he wrote me the terrible letter of want and despair. They +had their effect, as I told you. Monday I leave for the South; I shall +write you immediately after my return. God bless you all. + +Mary." + +We read the letter together, Clara, Louis and I--and here is the poetry, +which speaks for itself of the talent this man possessed, and tells us, +as Clara said, how fruitful the soil would have proved if it had been +properly tilled. + + I was a poet nerved and strung + Up to the singing pitch you know, + And this since melody first was young + Has evermore been the pitch of woe: + She was a wistful, winsome thing, + Guileless as Eve before her fall, + And as I drew her 'neath my wing-- + Wilmur and Mary, that was all. + + Oh! how I loved her as she crept + Near and nearer my heart of fire! + Oh! how she loved me as I swept + The master strings of her spirit's lyre! + Oh! with what brooding tenderness + Our low words died in her father's hall, + In the meeting clasp, and parting press-- + Wilmur and Mary, that was all! + + I was a blinded fool, and worse, + She was whiter than driven snow, + And so one morning the universe + Lost forever its sapphire glow; + Across the land, and across the sea, + I felt a horrible shadow crawl, + A spasm of hell shot over me, + Wilmur and darkness, that was all! + + Leagues on leagues of solitude lie, + Dun and dreary between us now, + And in my heart is a terrible cry, + With clamps of iron across my brow. + Never again the olden light-- + Ever the sickly, dreadful pall; + I am alone here in the night, + Wilmur and misery, that is all! + + For the solemn haze that soon will shine, + For the beckoning hand I soon shall see, + For the fitful glare of the mortal sign + That bringeth surcease of agony, + For the dreary glaze of the dying brain, + For the mystic voice that soon will call, + For the end of all this passion and pain, + Wilmur is waiting--that is all. + +The letter and poem finished, we talked long of our new friend, and the +strange experiences brought into our quiet lives, and Clara said: + +"Oh! how long must all the good in the world of thought wait for the +hand of love to open the avenues of work for willing doers! Cannot +strong men weep; and must not angels sorrow to realize the darkness and +the errors where light should dawn, and in a morning of new life men and +women stand as brothers and sisters in the grand work of helping each +other to do all that lies on either hand! Fields whiten for the harvest, +but the reapers are not many. These experiences come to us as teachers, +and oh, Louis and Emily, let your hearts search to find these sorrowing +ones! May your hands never be withheld from the needed alms, and may you +work in quiet love and patience through the years! The mists will shroud +the valley, and ere long, my dear ones, I shall leave you, for I cannot +stay too long away from all that awaits me there. If I had more strength +I could stay longer--but strength is what we need to hold the wings of +our soul closely down, and when the physical chain grows weak, all that +is waiting comes nearer. Spiritual strength grows greater, and the +waiting soul plumes its wings for flight. It does not seem so far, and +Louis, Emily, when my visible presence goes from you, your prayers will +come to me. I shall hear, perhaps I shall answer you also, for I shall +be your guardian angel. Then--is it not beautiful to think of the long, +long years, and no death for evermore?" + +She closed her eyes, and looked serenely happy, but I was weeping +bitterly, and Louis' eyes swam in tears, as he said: + +"Little mother, wait still longer, we cannot let you go." + +"Oh! Louis, my dear boy, it is not now, it may be just a few years yet, +but it is sure to come--and I love to talk with you of this change. It +is natural for us to pass into the next room. If I go I must say all the +things I need to first." + +Aunt Hildy and mother entered, and we talked again of our new friend +Mary. When God touched me that night with his magic wand, I dreamed of +fairies, and saw wondrous changes at their hands, earth and heaven +strangely mingling. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +PRECIOUS THOUGHTS. + + +I like to drift with the days, and scan them one by one, but as I recall +all that I have written, I say to myself: "Emily must take some long +step now, else the tale of her life will never be told, even though the +changes came day by day, falling drop by drop into the lap of the +waiting years." + +Mother was feeling better, and when the rose-covered days of June came +over us our hearts were singing. Clara seemed well (for her) and I +forebore to grieve over her prophecy of leaving us, though for a few +days after she had said those words, an icy feeling crept over me as I +thought on what they foreboded. I could not see how we could bear to +lose her presence; life without her would be an empty vial, not only for +us, but for all. We loved her devotedly. In this beautiful June I felt +younger than ever before, and believed that the constant saying to +myself, "I will do right," was brightening all the world for me. + +I was twenty-one years old the previous March, and it seemed to me I +looked much younger than when two years ago we saw for the first time +the face of our Clara Desmonde. March was a sort of wild month to find +one's birthday in, and I never think of it without recalling the saying +of one who had seen hard work and sorrow as well. It was a lady I met +once at Aunt Phebe's, who came to bring a book for her to read, and in +the course of conversation she said: + +"Mrs. Hungerford, I was born in March, and have come to the delightful +conclusion that all who dare to be born in this month must fight the +beasts at Ephesus." + +This year I had certainly fought Mr. Benton, and perhaps I should find +another experience in the next March month that came. + +Ben was seventeen years old in January, and this was a great year for +him; he had sought and obtained father's consent to manage a farm for +himself. Hal could not, of course, till the land he owned, and Ben had +made arrangements to do it. He wanted the entire care, and Hal told him +to go right ahead the same as if he owned it all and see what he could +do. This was quite a step, and, as it proved, a successful one. He was +at home in his old room at night, but ate at Hal's table, and Mary said +he was so good they could never keep house without him. I rejoiced that +he could fill a position for which he was fitted, albeit father and Hal +were both disappointed that he could not have book knowledge enough to +place him in some position in public life. + +"That was mere ambition," mother said, and Aunt Phebe remarked +concerning him, that he should be let alone, and to help him to be an +honest man was the wisest course possible. + +"So I think," said Aunt Hildy; "common sense has got power to last a +good while, and high ideas sometimes kill everything." + +Louis was enjoying the summer "hugely," as he expressed it, and Clara +was very willing to aid him in everything he undertook, and he was not +an idle dreamer, for though he did dream beautifully, and talked often +of the fairy land, as he called the home of his pure, good thoughts, he +was a worker in all ways. If a sudden shower threatened the meadow, he +was there with the men, doing all he could to aid them, and not slow to +learn the use of rake and pitchfork. If Aunt Peg needed attention he was +soon over to see her, and when he went to the village, he was the errand +boy for any and all. He became well known among us, and the dear old +home among the hills gave him a hearty welcome. Even Deacon Grover came +to the conclusion that the city chap didn't put on airs, and told me he +should think I'd almost want to catch him, laughing heartily at his own +words. I always disliked this; it is a mark of a small brain to tell a +story or say something witty, and crown your own talk by laughing at +yourself--that would spoil the best joke in the world for me. + +One August afternoon I called Clara to the window to watch Louis and +Matthias coming along slowly together in a close and evidently +interesting conversation. They came in together, and the face of our +dusky friend was covered with the light of a new thought. + +"Why, how happy you look!" I said. + +"He feels happy," answered Louis; "they are going to have a wedding over +at Aunt Peg's, and I am first man." + +"Yes," said Matthias, "'pears like I kin get married now. Miss Smith, +she feels lonesome, and I bother her 'bout my vittles, an' we kin set by +one fire jes' as well." + +"I shall write Aunt Phebe to-morrow, and ask her," I said, laughing. + +"Um--um," said he, "reckon she's 'gaged to make me two white shirts +'reddy." + +"Why, when did she know it?" + +"Oh! she dunno nothing definite, but she said long ago she'd make 'em +for me when I git married, an' I done come over to see ef you'd sen' a +word about it to her." + +"I will most certainly, but how long before you will be married?" + +"'Bout tree weeks, I guess; haint set on no day. Let Miss Smith do +that." + +"And you'll have a wedding?" + +"No, Miss Em'ly. For de lan' sake, you don't 'spect we's gwine into dat +yere meetin' 'ouse for de folks to call it a nigger show, duz ye? We's +too ole to be gwine roun' to be laf at." + +"I didn't mean to plague you, Matthias; please excuse me," for he looked +the least bit provoked. "I'll make some cake, though, and you'll want +witnesses, so Louis and I can come, anyway." + +"'Spect you two need to get used to dat yere ceremony more'n de rest of +de folks yere; yas, you kin come." + +Oh! how Louis laughed at this, saying: + +"There, Emily, Matthias knows too much; look out for breakers when you +talk to him." + +The old man laughed heartily also, and left us to talk over the coming +event. + +"Two shipwrecked lives trying to keep close to the shore of content for +the rest of the journey, that's what they are," said Louis, "and we will +help them, and do God's service by ministering to their small needs, for +'Inasmuch as ye do it unto the least of these, ye do it unto me.'" + +He had so many Scriptural quotations at his tongue's end nowadays, I +often told him he would be a minister, I knew. Many of his days were +spent in the society of Mr. Davis, and they read the Bible through +together. Louis said the New Testament had great charms for him, and Mr. +Davis said to Clara and myself when we called upon him, that the +Scriptures had never been so blessed to his heart as now. + +"Your son," turning to Clara, "is not my student; he has the most lucid +perception, and transfers his thoughts to my heart with wonderful +strength, and yet he stirs the soil of years with tender hand, and never +forgets I am growing old. Some day he will have a pulpit of his own." + +"Do you think so?" I said. + +"Oh, it must be! He is like his mother; chosen for the good work. I +delight in his society, and hope never to miss it while I stay. I am not +strong, and some day I fear I shall not be able to preach when the +Sabbath dawns. If I do fail at any time, I shall secure his help." Clara +only said: + +"My dear boy shall do that which he can do well, for there will be no +stumbling blocks laid in his path; if he starts right, and I believe he +has, the way will be made plain, and as day unto day shall utter speech, +so night unto night shall show its knowledge." + +"He seems benevolent," said Mr. Davis, "and he will devote much of his +time, and substance as well, to the uplifting of the degraded, and the +exalting of mankind through daily practice." + +"So be it," said Clara; "I shall be glad if he can uplift the lantern +light of truth, that it may shine over all the dark and devious ways of +ignorance, and when my feet shall walk beside his father's on the hills, +may our souls call to him, and his heart receive from us the strength +which our love can give--angels to minister to his wants. Oh! this is +beautiful to think upon." + +The eyes of our good minister filled with tears, and I thought how +wisely and well Clara sows the seed. I felt ashamed to think how +unmindful of this tolerance of ideas I had been when his fiery sermon +aroused my spirit, and I have often since felt that we all possess too +much intolerance each toward the other. Mr. Davis was original in +thought, and had always regilded as it were the old texts in his sermon, +until they could not fail to interest us; and when, yielding to pressure +of conviction regarding eternal punishment, he warned his flock, Clara +judged him rightly, and I was wrong; for while the idea was horrible to +me, I had not wisdom or judgment to express myself, whereas Clara had +opened wide the door of love to his heart, and he received and +acknowledged the baptism of pure and elevating thought. + +His absolute fire died away into the description of conscience torment, +and through his later years the mellow ripeness of new thought took in +large part the place of the old. Mr. Davis was very anxious concerning +his health, and we did not wonder, for his cheeks grew pale and thin. He +seemed much older than he really was, and in two years of time had +gained ten in the defining face lines. These were, it seemed, +ineffaceable, and as the months wore on grew deeper still. + +Matthias' marriage came off in September, and our whole household were +invited. Aunt Hildy said she'd send them something, "but no weddins for +me," and she shook her head when I asked whether she was going. + +Mother was busy and did not feel like sparing the time, so at last, +Clara, Louis and I went over, and Mrs. Davis came with her husband, who +performed the ceremony in a pleasant way. I think no couple ever had +just such wedding presents. A blanket and some home-spun towels from +Aunt Hildy; a large silk bandana handkerchief, a chintz dress pattern, +and a little bead purse with some bits of gold from Clara (how much I +never knew), and from Louis a load of shingles, and the services of a +carpenter to re-shingle the little house, with some sensible gifts from +Hal and our people. Aunt Peg was beside herself with joy which she could +not express to suit her, and at last she said, "won't try to tell you +nothin'--can't do it." + +Mr. and Mrs. Davis stayed only a few minutes after the ceremony, but we +three had a long chat with our good friends, and when we left them at +the door, tears of gratitude fell from Aunt Peg's eyes. I looked back, +after we had started toward home, to see them sitting on the door stone +side by side, and their dark faces resting in the shadow of the Cyprus +vine was a pleasant picture. + +"Their cup runneth over," said Louis; "I am glad and 'we shall rejoice +with those that rejoice, and mourn, with those that mourn.'" + +"Another Bible quotation, Louis?" + +"Yes," said he, "and why may we not have these truths, like blessed +realities, walk side by side with us through life. Every day might let +the sunshine into the room of our thought, through the bars of +understanding that stand as defining lines between them. + +"Mr. Davis says you are to be a preacher. I believe you are already," +said I. + +"Would my Emily object? I think not, for has not little mother said, +'Emily will do it, Emily will help you?'" + +I did not answer with words, but my eyes spoke volumes, and he read them +truly. + +Letters came to us monthly from our Southern Mary, and Clara often said +she had hope of seeing her again. Mrs. Chadwick had kept track of Mrs. +Benton, and that strange compound of villainy and taste--her +husband--had really been touched by Mary's plea and was living with his +family. I could hardly believe it, and when Hal stepped in one evening +with "love's fawn" at his side, and a letter from that veritable Benton, +we had a grand surprise. I will not try to tell you of this well written +epistle, but this interesting item I will relate; here are his words: +"You will doubtless be surprised when I say I am married and keeping +house. I found my wife here; she has two nice boys. If you come to this +part of the globe, as I hope you will, call on us. You will be +welcome." + +"My soul!" said Aunt Hildy, "if the other world did have a fiery pit for +liars, that man would have the best seat, and nearest the fire." + +Mother smiled and said, "He does not know, of course, that we have heard +of this wife, for how should he?" + +"Why, certainly not," said Hal, "and I shall never tell him. Let him do +right if he can, and we perhaps can hardly blame him if he does want to +hold on to the few who have proven their friendship, for I think his +friends do not number many. He needs them all." + +"Judgment is mine saith the Lord," said Aunt Hildy. + +"Well, that may be true, but I cannot feel that we are His direct agents +for cursing the man." + +"Neither are we," said Louis, "and if we obey the commandment, 'Love ye +one another,' where can the curse come? No, no, Mrs. Patten, we must +wait for the spirit of the man to grow good and true, and the weakness +of the flesh by this will be overcome; he cannot forget all the wrong, +and probably might recall the words, 'The spirit is willing but the +flesh is weak.'" + +"Well," said Aunt Hildy, "I 'spose that's the Gospel good and true, but +I do get riled at his cuttings up. I've seen 'em before, yes I've seen +'em before." + +And she sat as if feeling her way back through the mist of years. I +wondered what she had suffered, but she kept her own secrets close to +her heart and held steadfastly to the truth doing much good. Her busy +fingers through the long winter evenings kept adding to the store of +stockings she was knitting for somebody who needed--and the needy would +surely come in her path. + +Aunt Peg and Matthias were quietly happy, and they came out of church +every Sabbath and walked with a pleasant dignity homeward. Matthias had +memorized the old hymns and he could pick many of them out, having +learned to designate them by their first word or line, and this he +called reading. + +"'Pears like I kin read a few himes, Miss Emily," he said. This is the +way with us through life. It seems to me we get the first word or line +and then go blindly on making mistakes and grievously sinning in our +ignorance, unknowing of the great beauty that awaits us in the perfect +rendering of life's beautiful psalm. + +Clara said we were like children running through a meadow, trampling the +daisies and clovers under our feet, and with breathless impatience +hurrying on through the long day to the fall of night, and when the +sunset of our earthly life came on, pausing then at the corner of the +meadow, we gathered the few tired blossoms at our feet and passed out +into the unknown. + +"Oh, my Emily!" she said, "if our steps could be even and slow we should +pick our comfort-daisies and our love-clovers on either side, while our +feet still kept the one small path of our greatest duty; and this to me +is the straight and narrow path spoken of." + +Her types of thought were so purely beautiful, and yet she drew them +from the plainest facts. She was growing nearer heaven daily, or perhaps +we were seeing her soul more clearly through the days. I thought and +comforted myself that we should not lose her. + +Louis and I talked sometimes of the coming time when we should receive +the sacred seal of marriage, and when the year for which he asked had +expired and the fall term opened in the seminary, he said: + +"Little mother tells me she cannot let me go back, she is too tired to +live without me. I knew it before she told me; her strength is very +little without mine, and," he added, "even if we do all we can, that +little mother must leave us before many years. You know, Emily, how I +have wanted all my life to be an artist. Perhaps I shall, sometime, but +now before me I can see a need that will bring me into different work, +and it may be also (his eyes were far away) I can, after all, do better +service by painting living faces." + +"What do you mean, Louis? + +"I mean, Emily, that when the tired hearts we find, feel comfort +creeping over them, the work shines through the eyes and glows within +the smiles that beam upon us. Did we not paint a pleasant picture at the +wedding, and are not these works of art appreciated through endless +time? Will they not repay us with something better than the gold which +we may lose, the earthly things that perish? And again, I have seriously +thought that it is not right for me to take the work that others who +need might have. Side by side with our great love must walk these +truths. I cannot see yet how our future plans are to be arranged, or +where our home will be. What does your good heart say, Emily?" + +"Oh! I cannot tell you, Louis. I sometimes imagine a little cosy home +like Hal's, and then it dissolves beyond my reach and I say 'Time will +tell it all.' Your mother taught me that one of the greatest lessons in +life is to learn to wait, and move with the tide if we can instead of +against it. These hills are very dear to me." + +"May they never be less!" said Louis, gathering me to himself; while I +reverently thought, "How glorious a manhood is his! how great the love +he gives me!" + +Time passed rapidly. Ben's first season as a real farmer had passed, and +storehouse and barn were filled. His hands grew strong and his blows +were telling. A handsome woodpile was one of the things he was truly +proud of, and everything was done in good season and with perfect +system. Hal said that he and Mary were living with Ben. Father was +surprised at his success, and when, in the winter, he walked in with a +dozen brooms of his own make, Aunt Hildy said: + +"Industry and economy were two virtues that the Lord would see well +rewarded. You'll be a rich man and a generous one too. Wish your Aunt +Phebe'd come up to see us." + +"She's coming," said Ben. "I've written to her to come to our house and +stay a week. I want her to come and see my broom-corn room. I'll bet +she'll be interested in it, and I'm going to give her six brooms to take +home with her. But did you know Deacon Grover's very sick?" + +"Why, no, indeed!" said I. + +"Well, he is, and Mrs. Grover wants Louis to come over. He'd better go +back with me. They expect he'll die; he is troubled to breathe." + +I called Louis and he went over. He came back to supper and told us he +was going to stay with him all night. + +"Mr. Davis says he cannot save his life, and they are to have Dr. Brown +from the village. The man is terribly frightened; he knows he must go. +He says he's afraid he has been too mean to get into heaven, and he +moans piteously. His poor wife is nearly distracted." + +"Shall I go with you, Louis?" I said. + +"You might go over but I hardly think I need you all night there. He has +been ill more than a week. I should not be surprised if he left us +before morning." + +"Small loss to us," said Aunt Hildy, "but if the poor critter knows he's +been mean, perhaps he'll see his way through better. I'll go over if it +wont torment him." + +"You are just the one," said Louis. + +"Well, I hope I sha'nt set him to thinking about--never mind what I say. +Let me get my herb bag and start along." + +We found the poor man no better, and wise Dr. Brown shook his head +ominously. He was a regular grave-yard doctor, and I thought it a pity +to set up the deacon's tomb-stone while yet he breathed. His poor wife +was taking on terribly (as Aunt Hildy expressed it). When Deacon Grover +saw Louis he tried to speak. Louis went near and took his hand, and he +whispered: + +"Peace, you bring me peace." + +"It is all right over there," said Louis; "do not fear." + +"All right," said the sufferer, and then, looking at his wife, he said, +"Be her friend." A smile passed over his face, his eyes closed, and +Deacon Grover was dead. + +Mr. Goodman and Matthias came over to help Louis lay him out, and his +funeral took place from the church the following Sunday. Louis was a +great help to Mrs. Grover and she needed all the aid he could give. Her +spirits were broken in her early days, and she followed the deacon in a +little less than a year, her brain failing rapidly, her body having been +weak for years. + +Many changes had occurred during this year of my life, and when the +beads upon my rosary of years numbered twenty-two, it seemed hardly a +day since I had counted twenty-one. How little time from one birthday to +another, and in childhood how long the time between! + +I was growing older, and the days challenged each other in their +swiftness, but they were all pleasant to me, even though the church-bell +often tolled the passing of souls, and the quiet of our hills was broken +by the ringing of improvement's hammer as it fell on the anvil of our +possessions. Long lines of streets passed through the meadow-lands, and +where, in less level places, rocks and stones were in the path, the +power of inventive genius was applied and the victory gained. Some of +our people felt it keenly. To father it was an advantage, but to Aunt +Hildy, the opposite. + +"Goin' to pass right through my nest, Mr. Minot, and I tell you it aint +so easy to think of that spot of ground as a grave-yard. 'Twont be +nothin' else to me, never. Oh, the years I bury there!" + +Father ventured to suggest remuneration. + +"No, no, nothin' can't pay; they don't know it, Mr. Minot, but it's a +bitter pill." And a shadow overspread her resolute features. She +determined on making our house her home "forever and a day arter" she +said, and bore it as patiently as she could; but I saw great drops fall +from her eyes as she looked over to that little home and watched its +demolition. She said she had prayed for a strong wind to do the work, +but this was not granted. My own heart leaped to my throat in sympathy, +but knowing her so well I said nothing. + +Louis was more than busy. I wondered when my birthday came if he would +remember it. He did, and all the evening of that day we sat together and +talked of our future. + +"Emily, I am feeling glad to-night; my heart sings loud for joy. You +cannot think how beautiful you have grown in my eyes; even though you +filled my heart long days ago, that heart-room does expand with growth, +and your queenly beauty still fills it to completeness. Let your hair +fall over your shoulders; look out over the future days with your +speaking eyes as if you were a picture, my Emily." And as he said this +my shell-comb was in his hand and my long and heavy hair lay about me +like a mantle. He liked to see it so, and I sat as if receiving a +blessed benediction. + +"Can you see nothing before you?" he asked. + +"Mists, like drapery curtains, shade the days," I said: "What is it you +would have me find?" + + "Find the month of June's dear roses, + Find a trellis and a vine; + Ask your heart, my queenly darling, + If the sun will on us shine, + And my heart, love's waiting trellis, + Then receive its clinging vine. + Have I spoken well and truly? + Does your soul like mine decide? + And, with June's dear wealth of roses, + Shall I claim you for a bride? + Do the old hills answer, darling? + Unto me they seem to say: + 'Two young hearts in truth have waited; + Emily may name the day.'" + +As the words of his impromptu verse died away, the moon, looking through +the rifted clouds, beamed an affirmation, and I said: + +"Let June be the month, Louis; the day shall name itself." + +Clara called: "It is nine o'clock, my dear ones;" and we said "good +night." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +EMILY'S MARRIAGE. + + +Louis' birthday came on the 24th of June, and it seemed very appropriate +to me that this should be the day of our wedding, and, as I said to him; +the day named itself, and it also came on Sunday. I had no thought of +being married in the old church, but Louis was positive that it would be +best. + +"You know," he said, "that all these good people around us feel an +interest very natural to those who are acquainted with everybody in +their own little town. They will enjoy our marriage in the church where +all can come and none be slighted, and the evening after they can be +invited to call on us at home." + +"Oh, Louis!" I said, "I would much rather go quietly over to Mr. +Davis'." + +"Yes, Emily," he replied, "to take one of our pleasant walks over the +hill and step in there; but after all I can see how it will be wiser for +us not to be selfish in this matter. Never mind how we feel: these +friends of ours are of much account, and the many new thoughts that +brighten their existence as well as our own must fall, I believe, on us +as a people as well as individually. A private wedding will cause unkind +remarks, and perhaps unpleasant feelings, and idle conjectures may grow +to be stern realities. Let us avoid all this, and as we have heretofore +been among them, let us still keep our vessel close to the shore of +their understanding, though we may often drift out into the ocean unseen +by them, and gather to ourselves the pearls of new and strengthening +thought 'Let him who would be chief among you be your servant.' Do you +understand me?" + +"I do, Louis, and 'Emily will do it,' for she knows you are right; but I +should never have thought of it; and now another important +consideration." + +"The bridal robe?" said Louis. + +"Yes," I said, "just that; the thought of being elaborately dressed is +distasteful to me as well as unsuited to our desires, for a wedding +display would certainly arouse the spirit of envy if nothing more." + +"Trust that to little mother, Emily; she desires to have that privilege, +I know." + +"Let it be so." + +And here we fixed the arrangement for the birthday and wedding day to be +one; but it came on a Sunday, and hence the necessity of a talk with Mr. +Davis, which resulted in the arranging for a short afternoon sermon, and +after it the ceremony. We were not to enter the church until the proper +moment, and Ben said he could manage it, for when the minister began his +last prayer he would climb the rickety ladder into the old square box of +a belfry and hang out a yard of white cloth on a stick. + +"And then," he added, "you can jump right into the wagon and be there in +three minutes." + +He was the most perfect boy to plan at a moment's notice, but Louis +told him not to hazard his life on the belfry ladder for we could manage +it all without. + +"And besides," he said, "you, Ben, must walk into church with us; we are +not going unprotected. Hal and Mary, Ben and little mother, and Mr. +Minot with his wife and Aunt Hildy. That is the programme as I have it." + +You should have seen those eyes of the young farmer dilate with surprise +as he gave a long and significant whistle and turned toward home, +doubtless thinking to surprise Hal and Mary with this new chapter in his +experience. + +The 10th day of June brought us a letter from Aunt Phebe with news of +her marriage. + +"Weddins don't never go alone more'n funerals," said Aunt Hildy. "Here +Miss Hungerford's been married since February, and we've just heard tell +of it. Hope she's got a good, sensible man, but 'taint likely; no two +very sensible folks get very near each other, that is, for life. She's a +good woman. What does he do to git a livin'?" + +"Teaches school," I replied. + +"Hem!" said she, "school teachers don't generally know much else. +Eddicated men aint great on homelife; they want a monstrous sight of +waitin' on." + +"Let us hope for the best in this case," said I. "Here comes Matthias; +he knows Mr. Dayton, I believe." + +"Yas, Miss Em'ly, I does," said Matthias, who heard my last remark. + +"Is he a nice man?" + +"Um, um! reckin that jes' hits dat man; why, de good Lord bress us ef +dat man ha'nt done, like he was sent, fur de slaves, Miss Em'ly. He +knows jes' whar dat track is,--de down-low track, I means, whar de +'scapin' from de debbil comes good to dese yere people when dey gits +free. Mas'r Sumner an' a'heap mo' on 'em would jes' like fur to kill dat +Mas'r Dayton ef dey could cotch him. Preaches like mad his ablishun +doctrine, as he call it, an' down on rum, sure sartin. He works jes' all +de time fur de leas' pay you never heard tell of. Is he comin' up yere?" + +"I hope so, some time; but he is Aunt Phebe's husband now, and we want +to know something about him." + +"I reckin dat ye needn't be oneasy, honey, 'bout dat, fur Miss +Hungerford is 'zackly de one fur to take ker ob dat man; he's got his +head 'way up 'mong de stars, an' 'way down in de figgerin' mos' all de +time." + +"Do you mean that he is an astronomer, Matthias?" + +"Dunno nothin' 'bout dat, but he looks into de stars straight through a +shiny pipe, Miss Em'ly, dat he sticks up on tree leg; an' when dem peart +fellers In dat college where dey lives, gits into figgerin whar dey's +done stuck and can't do it no how, dey comes right down to dat man, an' +he trabbles 'em right out ob all dese yere diffikilties. Um, um! dat man +knows a heap ob dem tings. Miss Hungerford's all right. 'Pears like +dere's good deal ob marryin' roun' de diggins." + +"You set the example," I said, "and the rest must follow. Louis and I +expect your hearty congratulations when our day comes to step out of the +world." + +"You kin 'pend on good arnest wishes for a heap o' comfort, Miss Em'ly, +but 'stead o' leavin' the world you jes' gits into it; dunno nothin' +'bout livin' till ye hev to min' eberything yourself. But I 'spect +you'll walk along purty happy-like, fur Mas'r Louis he's done got hevin +right in his soul, an' you, Miss Em'ly, 'pears like you's good enough +fur him." + +And the old man stood before me like a picture, his eyes beaming with +the thoughts which filled his soul, utterance to which he could not +wholly give; and I thought they grew like a fire within him, and that +some day, beyond the pale of human life, they would speak with force and +power, and all the buds of beauty there burst into flowers of eternal +loveliness. And I said to him, as he rose to go: + +"Your good wishes are worth much to me; I want you always for my +faithful friend." + +"Dat's jes' what I'se gwine to be," he replied, and as he passed along +the path, I thought I saw the corner of his coat sleeve near his eye. + +The 24th of June was a royal day. The blue sky flecked with fleecy +clouds sailing over us like promises; the air sweet with the mingling +breath of flowers (we had multitudes of them about us). The south wind +came up to us as pleasant breaths that sought our own, and the robins +and blue-birds sang in the trees all day the song, "It is well." My +heart echoed their music, and I moved in a dream, and when I felt +Clara's fingers wandering over my hair I could not realize that her +noble Louis was waiting to claim me as his wife--plain Emily Minot. But +the blue-birds' "It is well" covered all these thoughts. + +"Just a white dress, Emily, and violets to fasten your hair," said +Clara, "which I will coax to curl for this one day." + +And so, from under her hands, I came in a simple toilette of white mull, +with my much-loved violets fastened at my throat and nestling among my +black hair. Not a jewel save the ring that Louis had given me in the +days before, and the chain, which was just one shining thread about my +throat. I must have looked happy, but more than this I could not see, +even though I hazarded a long, full look in Clara's mirror. + +But Louis, ah! he should have stood beside a princess, I thought. It was +contrast, not comparison, when I stopped to realize the difference. It +was not his garb that made him regal, for he was clad in a suit of +simple black with a vest and necktie of spotless white. + +"A violet or two in your coat lappel?" said Clara. + +"No, no, little mother; my royal rose begirt with violets will stand +beside me. Put them in your own brown hair." + +And he smiled, as taking them from her hand he placed them in her hair. + +"Just a veil over your head, little mother; no bonnets among the wedding +party." + +Aunt Hildy insisted at first that she could not "parade around that +church and stand up there before the minister. I'd feel like a reg'lar +idiot, Louis." + +At last she changed her mind, but preferred to walk with Ben, and he, +who always loved her well, did not object. + +So our entrance by one of the side aisles (the body of the church was +filled with pews) was in the following order: Father, mother and Clara, +Louis and Emily, Hal and Mary, and Ben and Aunt Hildy. The latter would +walk to the church anyway, and when our old carryall reached the door, I +felt like screaming to see her sitting there on the steps fanning +herself with her turkey-feather fan and waiting for us to appear. We all +entered with uncovered heads, and as our feet crossed the threshold the +choir sang one verse of "Praise ye the Lord." Mr. Davis had descended +from his pulpit and stood before it upon a little elevated platform +arranged for special occasions. Mother, father and Clara passed him +where he stood, leaving the place for Louis and myself before him, with +Hal and Mary, Ben and Aunt Hildy at Louis' left. It was a short and +beautifully-worded ceremony, and when my eyes, already moist, looked +upward to the pulpit and noticed a drapery of rose and vine which +encircled it, those same tears fell fast over my cheeks, and while +Louis' "I will" fell as a clear and strong response upon the air, my own +assent was given silently and with only a slight bowing of my head, my +lips murmuring not a syllable. After pronouncing us man and wife, Mr. +Davis, at Louis' request, gave an invitation to all our friends to call +on us the following evening, and again the choir and the people sang +sweetly and with great feeling, as, turning, we passed down the opposite +aisle toward the door. + +When about half way to the door I was conscious of seeing Aunt Peg and +Matthias; a moment more, and she with her white apron, and he with his +high hat full of roses, were walking before us and throwing them in our +path. + +When we reached the door they stepped to either side, and still throwing +roses, Matthias said in a tone I shall never forget: + +"May de days do for ye jes' what we's doin' now, scatter de roses right +afore ye clear to de end ob de journey." + +This touched our hearts, and when we got into the carryall all eyes were +moist, and I of course was crying as if my best friend were dead. Aunt +Hildy said: + +"Lord-a-massy! wonder he hadn't hit us in the head; that's the queerest +caper I ever did see." + +We all laughed heartily, and Louis said: + +"My Emily, you are a rainbow of promise; the sun shines through your +tears." + +We had made preparations to receive our friends Monday evening, and had +huge loaves of cake awaiting with lemonade, and something warm for those +who desired it. An ancient service of rare and unique design was brought +out by Clara for the occasion. It belonged to her husband's family in +France and came to him as an heirloom. The contrast between it and the +mulberry set which mother gave me struck me as singular, but the flowers +and figures of the mulberry ware did not fall into insignificance. They +were to me the embodiment of beauty. Among my earliest disappointments +was the giving of grandmother's china to Hal, and I cried for "just one +saucer," and this was a fac-simile and met a hearty appreciation. I +bedewed it with tears, and Aunt Hildy said it was dretful dangerous to +give me anything, and she should'nt try it. + +"You'll want two or three handkerchiefs to cry on to-night, for the +folks'll bring over a lot o' things to you." + +"I do not expect a single present, neither desire any if I have to make +a speech," I said. + +"Keep close to me, Emily," said Louis, "and I will make the speeches if +it becomes a duty." + +I feared Clara would get tired out, but she said: + +"Oh, no, they will come early, you know, and go away early also, and +with you and Louis to hold me up I shall be borne on wings!" + +At six o'clock they began to appear. We had our supper at four, and were +ready to receive them. Louis and I sat in Clara's sitting-room, and Aunt +Hildy said: + +"It's my business to 'tend to the comin' in. 'Better to be a door-keeper +in the house of the Lord, than dwell in the tents of wickedness;' so +that's settled." And with this she established herself in a chair before +the open door. Mother was near to assist, and I smiled to hear Aunt +Hildy repeat: + +"Good arternoon; lay by your things," until I thought her lips must be +parched with their constant use. I was not prepared for the +demonstration of love and friendship coming from these people of our +town; for, until Louis and Clara came to us, I had, as I told you in the +beginning of my story, not longed for their society, and had found few +for whom I really cared. It was only from learning my duty, when my +eyes, with the years and the wisdom Clara brought, were opened, that I +could see the advantage gained by considering with respect even those +whom I had dominated as selfish. Miserly and mean Jane North had grown +into a different woman, and Deacon Grover had left us, blessing the love +and strength of this wisdom which brought peace to cover the last hour +of struggle; and many hearts, in the quiet ministering of one angel, had +been touched. Home friends were growing round us I knew, but I had no +realization of things as they really were, and the events of this +greeting gave me a substantial evidence which was to my soul a platform. +On it I reared a temple of love, and in the windows of my temple every +face and heart and gift were set, as pure crystal in the sash of +delightful remembrance. + +First came the Goodins, and their hands yielded to us thoroughly +appreciated gifts: one dozen linen towels spun, woven and bleached by +the hands of Mrs. Goodwin; her husband adding for Louis the solid silver +knee and shoe buckles his grandfather wore when a revolutionary officer, +the trusty sword that hung by his side, and his uniform coat with its +huge brass buttons, with the trunk of red cedar where for years they +have been kept. + +"Thank you," we both said simultaneously, and they passed along for +others to come near. Not one of all that country town forbore to come +and bring also tokens of their kindly feeling. Among the early arrivals +was Jane North. I heard Matthias say: + +"Be ye goin' to tote it in there?" and, as Jane answered resolutely, "I +certainly am," I looked toward the door to see what it was that was +approaching. At my feet Matthias dropped his burden, and the donor said: + +"There is a goose-feather bed and a pair of pillows, and I picked every +feather of 'em off my geese; them two linen sheets and two pair of +piller-cases done up with 'em I made myself. I want you to use that bed +in your own room, Mis' _De_-Mond (I started to hear that name applied to +myself), and for the sake of the good Lord who sent salvation to me +through your blessed mother-in-law, in prayer for yourself don't never +forget me. I've said all the hateful things I ever mean to." + +She held her hands out to us both, and we mingled our tears of gratitude +with those that filled her eyes. + +"Thank you," I said. + +"God bless your true heart," said Louis, "and may your last days be your +happiest." + +"Amen," said Jane, and she passed into the next room, Matthias putting +the present in a corner where it would take less space. Mr. Davis +followed her, and beside him stood a clock which father had helped him +to bring in. + +"This clock, my young friends, is the one which has stood in the corner +of my study for years. I have taken an especial pride in its unvarying +correctness, and the man in the moon is unfailing in his calculation, +showing his face at the appropriate season. The clock's tick is strong +and well becomes the old veteran, and the coat of mahogany he wears is +one that can never need a stitch. To you, above all others, I would +yield this treasure; it is worth far more to me than any gift I might +purchase, and I know that you," turning to Louis, "rejoice in keeping +bright the old-time landmarks linking forever the past and the present." + +This brought Louis to his feet, and Clara and myself rose too, for his +arms encircled us. + +"Mr. Davis," he said, grasping his outstretched hand, "you have done me +great honor; may I have the pleasure to retain through endless ages the +confidence you place in me and my blessed wife, my Emily." + +"The years will brighten the lustre of your true heart," said Mr. +Davis; and here his wife handed me a patchwork quilt, while her husband +said: + +"May your lives and loves be welded by a double chain as long as my +wife's handiwork shall last." + +It seemed to me I could not bear all this, and when father came forward +at this moment and handed me a deed of some of his best land, I should, +I believe, have screamed had not Louis' hand held me tightly. Gifts +multiplied like flakes of falling snow, until we were surrounded by +them. I can only mention a few more, and before me rise plainly now the +faces of Aunt Peg and Matthias, as bowing low before me they laid at our +feet their offerings. + +"Only jest a little intment; that's all they is when we looks at the +rest; but we wanted to bring you sunthin'," said Aunt Peg. + +A beautiful mat bordered with her own choice of bright colors, a +clothes-basket made by Matthias, and in the latter three pairs of +beautifully-knitted wool stockings for Louis. + +"Peg spun dis wool," said Matthias, "an' de stockins is good: dis +baskit," he added despairingly, "I tried my bes' to put some sky color +on, but I reckin ef de bluin' bottle had jes' spill over it 'twould do +more colorin' and better too. May de Lord help ye to live an' war it +out, and then I'll make another." + +"That was a good speech," said Louis, and we shook hands with these two +white-hearted friends, and they also passed on out of sight, leaving me +still at the mercy of the coming. + +It seemed to me there could be nothing more to come, when a loud "baa, +baa" started us, and Ben appeared, leading the whitest little lamb you +ever saw. He had tied a blue ribbon about its neck, and it trotted along +up to us as if pleased with the novelty of its situation. + +"Your namesake and my gift," said Ben. I was truly surprised, but +thanked him heartily, and the friends about us laughed immoderately. +This caused the lamb to look for some way out, and Ben went with it at a +quick pace, shouting back, "I raised Emily myself, and she's a beauty." +The next surprise was from Hal and Mary--two pieces from the hand of my +artist brother, "Love's Fawn," and "Aunt Hildy." Duplicates of these +were at that time hastening across the water with Mr. Hanson, who was +anxious to take a venture over for Hal. When they were placed before us, +Louis and myself exclaimed admiringly: + +"How beautiful!" + +Aunt Hildy, who stood near, said, "There, Halbert Minot, you've done it +now!" and passed, like a swift wind through the room. I feared she felt +hurt, but was disarmed of this thought, for she returned in a moment, +and over the statuette she threw her old Camlet cloak. + +"That is my present to you two," she said, standing beside it as if +empowered with authority. "To God's children I give this, and you shall +share it with 'em. I make one provision," she added. "Mis' +Hungerford-Dayton is to have the sleeves for carpet-rags; you can cut it +up when she comes. It's all I've got to give; but the Lord will make it +blest." We took this as a crowning joke; and still to me it seemed to +embrace a solid something, and set me dreaming. + +When the hour of ten arrived the last of our guests were leaving; and, +as I stood at the door with Louis saying "Good-night," the echo of the +words went ringing over the hills; and when it fluttered back, seemed to +my heart to say, "It will be morning soon." + +As we went into the sitting-room, Clara said: "Now that the guests have +all examined my gifts, it will do for my dear ones to look also," and +she led the way into our old middle-room, and pointing to the antique +service, said: + +"These are yours; I have them for my boy. There are false bottoms to the +three largest pieces, and within them you will find the gift your father +left you, Louis, to be given to you when you should become a man. I did +not tell the others of this," she added. "Here, my Emily, is something +you I know will prize,--the set of pearls my Louis Robert gave me on my +wedding day. They are very valuable. Keep them; and if changes should +ever bring want before you, you have a fortune here. See how beautiful +they are." And she held up a string of large, round pearls to which +clung an ornament, in shape somewhat like an anchor, of the same +precious gems, two of which were pear-shaped and very large. The +ear-rings and brooch were of the most exquisite pattern. I had never +seen anything so beautiful, and had no word for expression, and Clara +said: + +"Your eyes tell it all, my royal Emily; you are tired, and the night is +here." + +Then, kissing us both good-night, Louis gathered her in his arms and +carried her over the stairs, saying, as he turned to come down: + +"Pleasant dreams, my fairy mother; your hand is a magic wand." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MARRIED LIFE. + + +I could hardly see where we had room for all the gifts that came to us, +for Clara's part of the house was well filled, and Aunt Hildy's +belongings took nearly all the upstairs room we could spare; but by +moving and shifting, and using a little gumption, as Aunt Hildy +expressed it, they were all disposed of properly. + +The clock occupied a corner in Louis' room, which had been Hal's studio, +and was now to belong, with one other on Clara's side, to us two. Mother +had said before our marriage: + +"I can never let Emily go unless it be absolutely necessary. The boys +are both settled, and I desire Emily to remain here. It would be lonely +for her father and myself should she leave us." + +I had no wish to do so, and Louis and Clara were as one in this matter; +so we were to live right on together, and the convenient situation of +the rooms made it pleasant for all concerned. + +"Don't want no men folks round under foot," Aunt Hildy said, and there +was no need for it, for Louis' room, while accessible, was out of the +way, and it seemed to me as if the plan had fallen from a hand that knew +our wants better than we knew ourselves. What Louis' work would be, I +could not say, neither could he. To use his own language, as we talked +together of the coming days, "I am to be ready to do daily all that my +hand finds to do; and the work for which I am fitted will, I trust, fall +directly before me." He had a right to be called the "Town's Friend," I +thought, for his active brain and tender heart were constantly bringing +before him some errand of mercy, or act of charity, all of which were +willingly and well performed. + +It was not long after our marriage that he was called on to fill Mr. +Davis' place in the pulpit. I trembled to think of it; but you should +have seen Clara when, as we entered the church together, he passed the +pew door to follow Mr. Davis to the pulpit; for the latter, though from +weakness of the bronchial tubes unable to speak, was anxious to be by +the side of his friend, as he verified his prediction. There was a glory +covering Clara's face, and her eyes turned full upon her boy with an +unwavering light of steadfast faith in his power and goodness, as from +his lips fell the text, "If a man die shall he live again?" + +His opening prayer was impressively simple, and the text, it seemed to +me, just like a door which, swinging on its hinges, brought full before +his vision the picture of the life that is and the life that is to come. +His illustrations were so naturally drawn, and so beautifully fitted to +the needs of our earthly and spiritual existence, that I knew no words +had ever thrown around the old church people so wondrous a garment of +well-fitted thought. + +"If this is all," he said, "this living from day to day, oppressed with +the needs of the flesh, we have nothing to be thankful for; but if, as +I can both see and know, man lives again, we have all to give great +praise, and also rejoice through our deeds, that we are the children of +the eternal Father." + +Not a word of utter darkness, not a terrifying picture of a wrathful and +impatient God did he draw, but it was all tenderness and love that found +its way to the hearts of all his hearers; and when, in his own blessed +way, he pronounced the benediction, I felt that a full wave of kindness +covered us all, and I said in my heart: + +"Oh, Louis, Emily will help you; Emily will do it!" + +Mr. Davis' eyes were bright with gratitude and great joy as he greeted +us after the service, and he whispered to me: + +"You are the wife of a minister." + +This was only a beginning, and for months after, every other Sabbath +Louis occupied the pulpit, and to the surprise of Mr. Davis, all those +who had become interested in the dispensation of Mr. Ballou, and who had +now for a long time been to the church where we had heard the sermon +which came as dew to my hungry soul, began to come again to the old +church. Louis' preaching drew them there, and they settled in their old +place to hear, as they expressed it, "the best sermons that ever were +preached." This was pleasant. Louis had said: + +"I cannot subscribe to the articles of your creed, or of any other, but +am willing and anxious to express to others the thoughts that are within +me." + +This made no difference, for they knew he spoke truly, and also that the +armor of his righteousness was made of the good deeds which he performed +daily. It helped Mr. Davis along, and after a time his health became +better; but even then he insisted on Louis preaching often, which he +gladly did. + +On the Christmas of this year, 1846, there was service as usual at our +church, and both Mr. Davis and Louis occupied the pulpit. A Christmas +service was not usual save in the Episcopal church, but Mr. Davis asked +this privilege. His father had been a strict Episcopalian, and he had +learned in his early years to love that church. Our people were not loth +to grant his request, and I think this Christmas will never be +forgotten. + +We took supper at Hal's with Aunt Phebe, who had come with her husband +to pay us, what Mr. Dayton termed, "a young visit." He had perfect +knowledge of the English language, and power to express himself not only +with words, but with a most characteristic combination of them. He said +his wife felt anxious that he should be on amicable terms with her +consanguineous friends, but he expected we should attribute less of +goodness to him than to her, for "Phebe Ann" was a remarkable woman. +"And this," he added, "is why she appreciates me." + +Ben tried in vain to interest him more than a few moments at a time, +even though he displayed his young stock and invited him into the +broom-corn room. + +It was not till he espied a Daboll's Arithmetic in Hal's studio that he +became interested in the belongings of that house, albeit Hal and Mary +had shown him the statuary they so much prized. He looked at the +statuettes and remarked to Hal: + +"You do that better than I do, but what after all does it amount to? It +never will save a man from sin; never break a fetter, or dash away a +wine-cup. But what do you know about figures? Do you think you know very +much?" + +"Not as much as I wish," Ben answered, as Hal smiled at the plain +question. + +"I thought so," said Mr. Dayton; "and the very best thing you can do, +young man, is to come down to my house, or perhaps I can come up here, +and gather some really useful and necessary information about figures. +It will make a man of you. I guess you're a pretty good boy, and you +only need brightening up a little." + +Hal replied: "I wish you would, Uncle Dayton; that is just what I should +like." + +"Well," said he, "it wouldn't do you any hurt to come with him." + +"I should come, too," said Mary. + +"Come right along," was the reply. At supper time he said he preferred a +simple dish of bread and milk, which he seemed to enjoy greatly, and all +the niceties Mary had prepared were set aside unnoticed. + +"Do you know what day you were born on, Ben?" he said. + +"I know the day of the month, sir, but not the day of the week." + +"Tell me the day of the month and year and I will tell you the day of +the week." + +"September 6, 1828." + +"Let's see," said the philosopher, turning his eyes to the ceiling; +"that came on Saturday." + +We all asked the solving of this problem, and the instantaneous result +seemed wonderful. After supper, at our request, he told us his history, +and when we realized that this man had gained for himself all his +knowledge, we looked on him as one coming from wonderland. It was hardly +credible that he should have power to solve the most difficult +mathematical problems, calculate eclipses, as well as do all that could +be required in civil or hydraulic engineering, and that he had +accomplished this by his own will, which, pushing aside all obstacles, +fought for the supremacy of his brain life. His father desired him to +have no book knowledge, and he told us that when a young boy he would +wait for sleep to close his father's eyes, and would then, by the light +of pitch-pine knots and birch-bark in the fireplace, pursue his studies. +This was pursuing knowledge under difficulties which would have proved +insurmountable to many. But not so to Mr. Dayton, for he steadily +gained; and though to an utter disregard for his unquenchable thirst for +knowledge was added the daily fight for bread, he rose triumphantly +above these difficulties, and mastered the most intricate mathematical +calculation with the ease which is born only of a superior development +of brain. Matthias had told us truly, and when he left us for his home +we felt that in him we found new strength for much that was good and +true, and for abhorrence of evil. + +During this visit the Camlet cloak was brought out, and Aunt Phebe and I +together ripped out the sleeves. She said they would make a splendid +green stripe in a carpet, and in her quiet, careful way she sat removing +their linings, when she started as if frightened, exclaiming: + +"Why, Emily, what on earth does this mean?" + +"What is it?" I said, and she held before me in her hand a long brown +paper, and within its folds were two bills of equal denomination. + +"I wonder if this one has anything in it?" I said, and even as I said it +my fingers came upon a similarly folded paper, and two more bills were +brought to light. They were a valuable gift, and Aunt Phebe's gratitude +gave vent in a forcible way, I knew, for Aunt Hildy told me afterward +she thanked her "e'en a'most to death." I could hardly wait to rip the +body of the cloak, and my surprise was unbounded when I discovered its +contents. + +There were two sums of money left in trust with us, and in her dear, +good way she had made us wondrously grateful to her for the faith she +had reposed in us; a deed of some of her land, which the street had cut +into, which she desired us to use for some one who was needy, unless we +ourselves needed it; and in the last sentences of her message to us she +said: + +"If ever anybody belongin' to me comes in your path, give 'em a lift. I +can trust you to do it, and the Lord will spare your lives, I know. +Don't tell any livin' soul, Emily." This was a sacred message to both +Louis and myself, and I should feel it sacrilege to write it all out +here, even though I much desire to. + +Dear Aunt Hildy! when we essayed to thank her, she said: + +"There, there, don't say a word; I've allus said I'd be my own +executioner, (I did not correct her mistake), and I know that's the way. +You see, some day I'll go out like a candle, for all my mother's folks +died that way, so I want to be ready. The other side of the house live +longer, more pity for it too. They've handed down more trouble than you +know, but I aint like one of 'em; it's my mother I belong to." + +It seemed to me now that the years went like days and the first five +after our marriage, that ended with the summer of 1851, were filled for +the most part with pleasant cares. I was still my mother's girl, and +helped about the house as always before. Of course, some sorrows came to +us in these years, for changes cannot be perfectly like clear glass. Hal +and Mary had held to their hearts one beautiful Baby blossom, who only +lived four months to cheer them, and then passed from their brooding +tenderness on to the other side. We sorrowed for this, and "Love's Fawn" +had pale cheeks for a long time. Hal feared she would follow her child, +and it might have been had not a somewhat necessary journey across the +Atlantic brought great benefit to her. + +The venture Mr. Hanson had made had proved so eminently successful, that +when, this year, he again went to the Old World, it was deemed wise and +right for them to accompany himself and family. I almost wanted to go, +too, and when Hal sent back to us his beautifully written account of all +he saw, I stood in spirit beside him, and anticipated many of his +proposed visits. They both returned with improved health and added +fortune. + +The mining fever of 1849 took a few of our townspeople from us. Aunt +Phebe wrote us that her second son had gone to find gold, and Ben had a +little idea of trying the life of a pioneer; but the sight of the +waiting acres, which he hoped some day to call his, detained him, and he +still kept on making a grand success of farming, for he was doing the +work he desired and that which he was capable of carrying to a +successful end. + +Louis' work had lain in all directions; helping Mr. Davis still as his +varying strength required, interesting himself in the improvements about +us, etc. Gradually widening the sphere of his influence, slowly but +surely feeling his way among human hearts, he could not fail to be +recognized, and after a time to be sought for among such as needed help. +No appeal was ever made in vain from this quarter. + +Capitalists, who had reared in the village below us a huge stone mill +designed for the manufacture of woolens, had made advances which he did +not meet as desired, for their system of operating was disloyal, he +said, to all true justice, encroaching, as it did, upon the liberties of +a class largely represented in this, as well as in all other towns. +Three gentlemen, who represented the main interests, called on Louis, +and he expressed to them what seemed to him to be the truth regarding +this, and said: + +"The years to come will be replete with suffering, and vice, +degradation, and misery are sure to follow in the steps you are taking. +I do not say that you realize this, but if you will think of it as I +have, you cannot fail to reach the same conclusion. You cause to be rung +a morning bell at five o'clock, that rouses not only men from their +slumbers, but the little growing children who need their unbroken +morning dreams. These children must work all day in the close and +stifling rooms of your mill. Their tender life must feel the daily +dropping seed of disease, and with each recurring nightfall, overworked +bodies fall into a heavy slumber, instead of slipping gradually over +into the realm of peace. The mothers and fathers of these children +suffer in this strife for daily bread. Fathers knowing not their +children, and entire families living to feel only the impetus of a +desire to satisfy the cravings of hunger, and to shield themselves from +the cold of winter or the summer's heat. What does all this mean? If we +look at the elder among your employees we shall find men, who, not being +strong enough to work twelve hours a day, naturally, and almost of +necessity, have resorted to the stimulant of tobacco, and the strength +of spirituous liquors. + +"I can personally vouch for the truth of all I say regarding it. The +practice of fathers is already adopted or soon will be adopted by their +children, and by this means the little substance they may gain through +hard toil, for you well know their gain is small if your profit is what +you desire, falls through the grated bars of drunkenness and waste, into +the waiting pit of penury and pauperism. Bear with me, gentlemen, if I +speak thus plainly, and believe me it is for your own comfort as well as +for the cultivation of the untouched soil in the minds of your workmen, +that I feel called upon to address you earnestly. + +"You do not ask, neither would you permit, your wives and children to +work in the mill beside these people, and only the line of gold draws +the distinction between you. There are sweet faces in your mill, there +are tender hearts and there is intellect which might grow to be a power +in our midst. But the sweet faces have weary eyes, the tender hearts +beat without pity, and the strength which might exalt these men and us +as their brothers, becomes the power of a consuming fire, which as time +flies, and our population increases, will burn out all the true and +loyal life that might have developed among us. When our village becomes +a city, we, like other denizens of cities, must see prison houses rise +before us, and to-day we are educating inmates for these walls. Remember +also, that the laces our wives shall wear in those days of so-called +prosperity, will be bought with human life. I will not stand amenable +before God for crime like this. + +"If you will drop your present schemes, if you will be content to share +with these men and children a portion of your profits, to let them toil +eight hours instead of twelve per day, and if on every Saturday you will +give to them one full long day in God's dear sunlight, I will invest the +amount of capital necessary to cover all which you as a body have +invested, and I will stand beside you in your mill. I would to God, +gentlemen, you were ready to accept this offer, for it comes from my +heart, but I can anticipate your reply. You will say I am speaking ahead +of my time, that the world is not ready for these theories, much less +for the practice I desire. And in return I would ask, when will it ever +be? Has any new and valuable dispensation sought us through time, when +hands were not raised in holy horror, and the voice of the majority has +not sounded against it. You are to-day enjoying, in the machinery you +use, the benefit of thought which against much opposition fought its way +to the front. And shall we rest on our oars, and say we cannot even try +to do what we know to be right, because the world, the unthinking, +unmindful world, sees no good in it? It would be easier for many acting +as one man, to move the wheels, but if this cannot be, I must wait as +other hearts have waited, but I will work in any and in all ways to +break the yokes which encircle the necks of our people." + +He paused and looking still earnestly at them, waited a reply. The +eldest said in answer: + +"Mr. Desmonde, while you have spoken that which we have never before +heard, I think I may say for my friends as well as myself, that your +sentiments do not fall on entirely barren soil. While you were talking, +it seemed to me the way looked plain, and I felt to say, Amen. But I +know we are not ready for such a movement as this. Perhaps we ought to +be, and if your picture is a true one, I say from the bottom of my heart +I will for myself try to be of some good. I am willing to be taught +how." + +Louis crossed the room, and offering his hand, said with emotion: + +"Thank God, the truth I uttered found soil. May the years water with the +dews of their love, the one seed fallen on rich ground, and may we, sir, +live to be a unit in our thought and action, and you too, gentlemen," +turning to the two who were silent. + +A short and pleasant conversation followed, and they took their +departure. As they left us, Clara said: + +"Well done, Louis. Here is a work and Emily will help you do it." + +Louis had grown grandly beautiful through these years, and never had he +seemed for one moment careless or unmindful of any simplest need. We +walked together truly, keeping pace through the years whose crown we +wore as yet lightly. He said I grew young all the time, and often, when +thoughts of his work filled his mind, as he sat looking on into the +future, finding one by one the paths which, like small threads running +through a garment, led to the unfoldment of life, he would hold my hands +in his, and when, like a picture, the way and means all made plain, he +would say: + +"My Emily, do you see it? Oh? you have helped me to find it, and still +you see it not; then I must tell you," and he would unfold to me the +work not of a coming day only--but sometimes even that of months and +years. + +He kept the promise made to the mill-owners, and the hearts of the +little operatives knew him as their friend. When the work he was doing +for them commenced, Aunt Hildy had said: + +"That's it; put not your light under a bushel but where men can see it, +Louis, for I tell you the candles you carry to folks' hearts are run in +the mould of the Lord's love, and every gleam on 'em is worth seein'." + +Aunt Hildy's step we knew was growing less firm, and now and then she +rode to the village. Matthias got on bravely, and gloried in the deposit +of some "buryin' money," as he called it, with Louis, who took it to the +bank and brought him a bank-book. + +"Who'd a thought on't, Mas'r Louis, me, an old nigger slave, up heah in +de Norf layin' up money." + +Ben had a saw-mill now of his own, and was an honest and thrifty young +man. Many new houses had been built in our midst, and with them came of +course new people and their needs. + +We had, up to this time, heard often from our Southern Mary, and her +letters grew stronger, telling us how noble a womanhood had crowned her +life, and the latter part of 1851 she wrote us of a true marriage with +one who loved her dearly. Her gifts to Mrs. Goodwin had been munificent, +and well appreciated by this good woman. We hoped some time to see her +in the North. She had never lost sight of Mr. Benton, and he still lived +with his wife and boys. This delighted the heart of Mary, and I grew to +think of him as one who perhaps had been refined through the fire of +suffering, which I secretly hoped had done its work so well that he +would not need, as Matthias thought Mas'r Sumner would, "dat eternal +fire." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +LIFE PICTURES AND LIFE WORK. + + +The pictures Louis painted were not on canvas, but living, breathing +entities, and my heart rejoiced as the years rolled over us that the +brush he wielded with such consummate skill was touched also by my hand; +that it had been able to verify Clara's "Emily will do it," and that now +in the days that came I heard her say "Louis and Emily are doing great +good." I think nothing is really pleasure as compared with the +blessedness of benefitting others. + +My experience in my earliest years had taught me to believe gold could +buy all we desired, but after Clara came to us and one by one the burden +of daily planning to do much with very little fell out of our lives, and +the feeling came to us that we had before us a wider path, with more +privileges than we had ever before known, I found the truth under it +all, that the want of a dollar is not the greatest one in life, neither +the work and struggle "to make both ends meet," as we said, the hardest +to enforce. + +It was good to know my parents were now free from petty anxieties, that +no unsettled bills hung over my father's head like threatening clouds, +and that my mother could, if she would, take more time; to herself. +Indeed she was forced to be less busy with hard work, for Aunt Hildy +worked with power and reigned supreme here, and I helped her in every +way. It was the help that came in these ways, I firmly believed, that +saved mother's life and kept her with us. This was a great comfort, but +none of us could say our desires ended here. + +No, as soon as the vexed question of how to live had settled itself, +then within our minds rose the great need of enlarged understanding. +Millions of dollars could not have rendered me happy when my mind was +clouded, and now it seemed to me, while strength lasted, no work, +however hard it might be, could deprive me of the happiness and love +that filled my heart. I loved to read and think, and I loved to work +also. + +Sometimes when my hands were filled with work and I could not stop to +write, beautiful couplets would come to me, and after a time stanzas +which I thought enough of to copy. In this way I "wrote myself down," as +Louis termed it, and occasionally he handed me a paper with my verses +printed, saying always: + +"Another piece of my Emily." + +May, 1853, brought Southern Mary and her husband to us. We met them with +our own carriage, and within her arms there nestled a dainty parcel +called "our baby," of whose coming we had not been apprised. What a +beautiful picture she was, this little lady, nine months old, the +perfect image of her mother, with little flaxen rings that covered her +head like a crown. I heeded not the introduction to her father, but, +reaching my hands to her, said: + +"Let me have her, Mary, let me take her. I cannot wait a minute." + +Louis gently reminded me that Mr. Waterman was speaking to me, and I +apologized hastily, as I gathered the blossom to my heart, where she sat +just as quiet as a kitten all the way home. Clara was delighted with the +"little bud," as she called her. + +"Tell me her name," I said. + +"Oh! guess it," said Mary. + +"Your own?" + +"No, no, you can never guess, for we called her Althea, after kind Mrs. +Goodwin, who nursed me so tenderly, and Emily, for another lady we +know"--and she looked at me with her bright eyes, while an arch smile +played over her face. I only kissed the face of the beautiful child, and +Louis said: + +"My Emily's name is fit for the daughter of a king. God bless the little +namesake," and Althea Emily gave utterance to a protracted "goo," which +meant, of course, _yes_. + +You should have heard her talk, though, when Matthias came over to see +"Miss Molly." + +"Come shufflin' over to see you," he said, "an' O my! but aint she jest +as pooty. O"--and at this moment she realized his presence, both her +little hands were stretched forth in welcome, and "ah goo! ah goo!" came +a hundred times from her sweet mouth as she tried to spring out of her +mother's lap. + +"Take her, Matthias," I said. + +"Wall, wall, she 'pears as ef she know me, Miss Emily--reckon she's got +a mammy down thar." + +"She has, indeed," said Mary, "and I know she will miss Mammy Lucy. She +was my nurse, and she cried bitterly when we left, but I do not need +her, Allie is just nothing to care for, and I like to be with her +myself, for I am her mother, you know," she added proudly. + +"I mus' know that ole Mammy Lucy, doesn't I, Miss Molly?" + +"Certainly you do, Matthias, and she has sent a bandanna turban for your +wife, and a pair of knitted gloves for you. She told me to say she +didn't forget you, and was mighty glad for your freedom. Father long +since gave her her's and she has quite a sum of money of her own." + +All this time white baby fingers were pawing Matthias' face, as if in +pity, and losing their little tips among his woolly hair. + +When he rose to leave she cried bitterly, and turning back he said: + +"Kin I tote her over to see Peg to-morrer?" + +"Oh! yes," said Mary "give her my love and tell her I am coming over." + +"Look out for breakers," said Aunt Hildy, when she saw the child, "this +house'll be a bedlam now, but then we were all as leetle as that once, I +spos'e," and her duty evidently spoke at that moment, saying, "You must +bear with it." But she was not troubled. + +Allie never troubled us, she was as sweet and sunny as a May morning all +through, and even went to meeting and behaved herself admirably. She +never said a word till the service ended, when she uttered one single +"goo" as if well pleased. Aunt Hildy said at the supper-table she +didn't believe any such thing ever happened before in the annals of our +country's history, + +"She's the best baby I ever see. Wish she'd walk afore you leave." + +"She has never deigned to creep," said Mary; "the first time I tried to +have her, she looked at me and then at her dress as if to say, "That +isn't nice," and could not be coaxed to crawl. She hitches along +instead, and even that is objectionable. I imagine some nice morning she +will get right up and walk." At that moment Allie threw back her head of +dainty yellow rings, and laughed heartily, as if she knew what we said. + +Mrs. Goodwin claimed the trio for one-half of the six weeks allotted to +their stay, and she said afterward: + +"They were three beautiful weeks with three beautiful folks." + +Louis at this time was working hard with the brush of his active +goodness, and had before him much canvas to work upon. The days were +placing it in his view, and we both dreamed at night of the work which +had come and was coming. + +It was a sunny day in June when he said: "Will my Emily go with me +to-day? The colors are waiting on the pallet of the brain, and our hands +must use them to-day." + +"Your Emily is ready," I replied, "and Gipsy (our horse) will take us, I +guess." + +We went first to Jane North's, and Louis said to her; + +"Jane, are you ready now to help us as you have promised?" + +"Yes, sir," she replied; "I am." + +"Will you take two boys to care for; one eleven years of age, and the +other twelve?" + +"I'll do just what you say, or try to, and if my patience gives out I +can tell you, I 'spose, but I'm bound to do my duty, for I scolded and +fretted and tended to other folk's business fifteen years jist because +my own plans was upset, and I couldn't bear to see anybody happy. Well, +'twas the power of sin that did it, and if some of the old Apostles fell +short I can't think I'm alone, though that don't make it any better for +me. When are they coming?" + +"To-night, I think. Give them a good room and good food, and I will +remunerate you as far as money goes. I would like you to take them; you +are so neat and thrifty, and will treat them well. When they get settled +we will see just what to do for them," said Louis, and we drove on to +the village. Our next stopping-place was found in the narrowest street +there, and where a few small and inconvenient dwellings had been erected +by the mill owners for such of their help as could afford to pay only +for these miserable homes. They looked as if they had fallen together +there by mistake. And the plot of ground which held the six houses +seemed to me to be only a good-sized house lot. We stopped at the third +one and were admitted by a careworn woman, who looked about fifty years +of age. She greeted us gladly, though when Louis introduced me, I knew +she felt the meager surroundings and wished he had been alone, for her +face flushed and her manner was nervous. I spoke kindly and took the +chair she proffered, being very careful not to appear to notice the +scantily furnished room. + +"Well," said Louis, "Mrs. Moore, are you ready to let your boy go with +me?" + +"Oh, sir," she said, "only too willing; but I have been afraid you would +not come. It seemed so strange that you should make us such an offer--so +strange that you can afford to do it, and be willing, too, for +experience has taught us to expect nothing, especially from those who +have money. But Willie's clothes, sir, are sadly worn. I have patched +them beyond holding together, almost; but I could get no new ones." + +"Never mind that," said Louis. "We will go to the mill for him and his +little friend, too, if he can go." + +"Oh! yes, sir; he can, and I am so glad, for the father is a miserably +discouraged man. He drinks to drown trouble, and it seems to me he will +drown them all after a little. A pleasant man, too. His wife says poor +health first caused him to use liquor." + +We then called on the woman in question and obtained her tearful +consent, for while the promise of a home for her boy was a bright gleam, +she said: + +"He is the oldest. Oh! I shall miss him when we are sick." + +"He shall come to you any time," said Louis, "and you shall visit him." + +And in a few moments we were at the mill. Entering the office, Louis was +cordially greeted by one of the three gentlemen who had called on us. He +evidently anticipated his errand, for he said: + +"So, you are come for Willie Moore and Burton Brown?" + +"Yes, sir," Louis replied. "Can I go to the room for them?" + +"As you please, Mr. Desmonde, I can call them down. Their room is not a +very desirable place for a lady to visit." + +Louis looked at him as if to remind him of something, while I said: + +"My place is beside my husband." + +"Yes," added Louis, "we work together. Come, Emily," and he led the way +to the fourth floor, where, under the flat roof in a long, low room, +were the little wool pickers. I thought at first I could not breathe, +the air was so close and sickening. And here were twenty boys, not one +of them more than twelve or thirteen years old, working through long +hours. The heat was stifling, and the fuzz from the wool made it worse. +They wore no stockings or shoes, nothing but a shirt and overalls, and +these were drenched as with rain. + +As we entered Louis whispered, "See the pictures," and it was a bright, +glad light that came suddenly into all their eyes at sight of their +friend. He spoke to them all, introducing me as we passed through the +long line that lay between the two rows of boys. When we came to Willie +and Burton, Louis whispered to them: + +"Get ready to go with me." + +They went into the adjoining hall to put on the garments which they wore +to and from the mill, and in less time than it takes me to write it, +they stood ready for a start. As we passed again between the lines of +boys Louis dropped into every palm a silver piece, saying, as he did +so: + +"Hold on, boys, work with good courage, and we will see you all in a +different place one of these days." + +"Thank you, sir;" and "yes, sir, we will," fell upon our ears as we +passed out. Our two little protegés ran out in advance. And as I looked +back a moment, standing on the threshold of the large door, I said: + +"It is a beautiful picture, Louis. You are a master artist." + +After again stopping in the office for a few words of conversation with +Mr. Damon, Louis was ready, the boys clambered into our carriage, and we +were on our way to their homes, first stopping to purchase for each of +them a suit of clothes, a large straw hat, and a black cap. The boys +said nothing, but looked a world of wondering thanks. + +Louis made an arrangement for the boys to live with Jane, and to go to +our town school when it began in the fall. + +"This summer," he said to their mothers, "they need all the out-door air +and free life they can have to help their pale cheeks grow rosy, and to +give to their weak muscles a little of the strength they require. I +desire no papers to pass between us, for I am not taking your children +from you, only helping you to give them the rest and change they need to +save their lives. They are the weakest boys in the mill and this is why +I chose them first. Every Saturday they shall come home to you, and stay +over the Sabbath if you desire, and they shall also bring to you as much +as they could earn in the mill. Will this be satisfactory?" + +Both these mothers bowed their heads in silent appreciation of the real +service he was rendering, and I knew his labor was not lost. I felt like +adding my tribute to his, and said: + +"Your boys will be well cared for, and you shall come often to see us. +We expect you to enjoy a little with them." + +"Oh! mother, will you come over and bring the children?" said Willie. + +"And you, too, mother," echoed Burton. + +Weary Mrs. Moore said: + +"I would like to breathe again in the woods and on the mountains, but I +have five little ones left here to care for;" and Mrs. Brown added: + +"I could only come on Saturday, and the mill lets out an hour earlier, +and your father needs me on that day more than any other." + +Her sad face and tearful eyes told my woman's heart that this was the +day he was tempted more than all others, and I afterward gathered as +much from Burton. + +"Well, we must turn toward home," said Louis, and the boys kissed their +mothers and their little brothers and sisters, and said "good-bye," and +each with his bundles turned to the carriage. Louis untied Gipsy, and I +said to the mothers: + +"Were they ever away over night?" + +"No, never," said both at once. + +"I will arrange for them. You shall hear to-morrow how the first night +passes with them." + +"I was just thinking of that," said Mrs. Brown; "God bless you for your +thoughtfulness," and getting into the carriage, we all waved our +good-byes, and turned toward home. We told Jane all we could to interest +her, and particularly asked her to make everything pleasant for them, +that they should not be homesick. Louis went to their room with them, +and when we left them at Jones' gate, Willie Moore shouted after us: + +"It's just heaven here, ain't it?" + +He was an uncommonly bright little boy, and yet had no education +whatever beyond spelling words of three letters. He was twelve years of +age, and for three years he had worked in the mill. Clara and all at +home were delighted with our work, and Aunt Hildy said: + +"Ef Jane North does well by them boys, she oughter have a pension from +the Gov'ment, and sence I know that'll never give her a cent, I'll do it +myself. I've got an idee in my head." + +Then Southern Mary and her husband laughed, not in derision, for they +admired Aunt Hildy, and Mr. Waterman said: + +"If men had your backbone, Mrs. Patten, there would be a different state +of things altogether." + +"My husband is almost an Abolitionist," said Mary. "Some of our people +dislike him greatly; but my father is a good man and he does not +illtreat one of his people. He is one of the exceptional cases. But the +system is, I know, accursed by God. I believe it to be a huge scale that +fell from the serpent's back in the Garden, and I feel the day will dawn +when the accursed presence of slavery will be no longer known." + +"Good!" said Aunt Hildy, "and there's more kinds than one. Them little +children is slaves--or was." + +"When you get ready to make out your pension papers, Mrs. Patten," said +Mary, "let me help jest a little; I would like to lay a corner-stone +somewhere in this village for some one's benefit. You know this is the +site of a drama in my life; I pray never to enact its like again." + +"I'll give you a chance," said Aunt Hildy. + +Louis went over to Jane's in the morning, and the boys returned with him +to tell us what a good supper and breakfast they had had. + +"And such a nice bed," added Burton. "When we looked out of the window +this morning I wished mother could come." + +"Poor little soul!" I said, "your mother shall come. We will move every +obstacle from her path." + +"If father could find work here it would be nice," and a little while +after, he said in a low tone: + +"There ain't any rum shops here, is there?" + +He was a tender plant, touchingly sensitive, and when I told him we were +to send word to his mother that he liked his home, his joy was a +pleasure to witness. + +"Miss North says we may have some flowers, and we'd better go back, +Willie, and see about getting the spot ready--she had her seed box out +last night, but I guess she'll give us plants too, to put in the +ground." + +He was very thoughtful, and would not stay too long for anything, he +said. Aunt Hildy looked after them, and sighed with the thoughts that +rose within, but said no word. + +The three weeks of Mr. and Mrs. Waterman's stay were at an end. + +"On the morrow," said Mary, "we go to Aunty Goodwin's. I want to go, and +dread to leave. But is that Matthias coming over the hill? It is, and I +have something to tell him. I have meant to do it before, but there was +really no opportunity. Come out with me, and let's sit down under the +elm tree while I tell him. Come, Allie," and she lifted the blue-eyed +baby tenderly. Oh, how sweet she was! and I wondered how we could bear +to lose her. She crowed with delight at Matthias' approach, and at +Mary's suggestion he took a seat beside us. + +"I have something to tell you now; open wide your ears, Uncle Peter." + +"What's dat you say, Miss Molly; got some news from home?" + +"Yes, I have news for you from your own." + +"Oh, Miss Molly, don't for de Lord's sake wait a minit!" + +"Your wife, whom Mr. Sumner so cruelly sold for you, is very happy now, +for she is free, Matthias." + +"Done gone to hevin, does you mean? Tell it all," said the old man, who +trembled visibly. + +"She did not live two months, but she was in good hands. I accidentally +met her mistress, who told me about her. She said she had kept her in +the house to wait on her, for she liked her very much. But she seemed +sad, and grew tired, and one morning she did not appear, and they found +her in her little room, next that of Mrs. Sanders, quite dead and +looking peaceful and happy. Her mistress felt badly, for she meant to do +well by her. They thought some heart trouble caused her death." + +"Oh, my! oh, my! dat heart ob hern was done broke when dat man sold our +little gal. Oh, I knowed it ud neber heal up agin! but tank de Lord +she's free up dar. Oh, Miss Emily! can't no murderers go in troo de +gate? Dat Mas'r Sumner can't neber get dar any more, Miss Molly?" + +"Yes, Matthias. Dry your tears, for I've something good to tell. Your +oldest boy, John, has a good master, and is buying his freedom. They +help him along. He drives a team, and is a splendid fellow. He will be +free soon, and will come to see you, perhaps to live with you. This is +all I know, but isn't it a great deal?" + +Matthias stood on his feet, his eyes dilating as they turned full on +Mary, his hands clenched, his form raised as erect as it was possible +for him, and his breast heaving with great emotion, as from his lips +came slowly these words: + +"Do you mean it, Miss Molly? Is you foolin, or is you in dead earnest +for sartin?" + +"It is truth, every word I say." + +"Oh, oh, oh!" and he sank on the seat beside us, covering his face with +both hands, while tears fell at his feet, and as they touched the grass +they shone in the sun like large round drops of dew. I thought they were +as white and pure as though his skin was fair. And he wept not alone, +for we wept with him. + +Allie reached to bury her fingers in his mass of woolly, curling hair, +and as he felt their tender tips, he raised his head and put out his +hands to her, saying: + +"Come, picaninny, come and help me be glad. Oh, Canaan, bright Canaan! +Oh, de Lord has hearn my prayer an' what kin I say, what kin I do, an' +how kin I wait fur to see dat chile? He's jes like his mother, pooty, I +know. Oh, picaninny, holler louder! le's tell it to the people that my +John is a comin' fur to see me, dat he haint got no use fur a mas'r any +more," and up and down he walked before us, while Allie made +demonstrations of joy. + +It was a strange picture. "Oh, Canaan!" still he sang, and "De New +Jerusalem," until I really feared his joy would overcome him, and was +glad to see Louis coming toward us. He took a seat beside me, and I was +about to tell him the wonderful news, when Matthias, who noticed him, +handed Allie to her mother, and falling on his knees before Louis, cried +aloud: + +"Oh, Mas'r Louis, help me, for de good Lord's sake! will you help me, +Mas'r Louis?" + +"Oh, yes, my dear fellow!" and he laid his hand on him tenderly; "tell +me just what you want me to do." + +"Oh, my boy! Miss Molly tells me my own boy John have got his freedom +mos out, an' he's comin' to find me. I can't wait, Mas'r Louis; 'pears +like a day'll be a year. I mout die, he mout die too. I'll sen' him my +buryin' money, an' ef tant enough, can't you sen' a little more? an' +I'll work it out, I will, sure, an' no mistake; fur de sake of the +right, Mas'r Louis, an' for to make my ole heart glad. Will you do it?" + +"I certainly will, Matthias; but you are excited now." + +"Bless ye. May de heavins open fur to swallow me in ef I don't clar up +ebery cent you pays fur me. But you can't tell. Oh, ye don't know!" and +again he walked, clapped his hands, and sang, "Oh, Canaan, bright +Canaan!" till, pausing suddenly, he said, "Guess I better shuffle ober +to tell Peg--'pears like I'm done gone clar out whar I can't know +nothin';" and with "good arternoon" he left us, swinging his hat in his +hand, and singing still "Oh, Canaan!" as he traveled over the hill +toward home. + +We were all glad for Matthias, and Clara said: + +"Let us rejoice with them that rejoice; and Louis, my dear boy, write at +once to the gentleman who owns John, and pay him whatever he says is +due. We can do it, and we should, for the poor, tired heart of his +father cannot afford to wait when a promise lies so near. Let us help +him to lay hold upon it." + +"Amen," said Aunt Hildy. "I'll help ten dollars' worth; taint much." + +"But you shall keep it for John," said Clara; "he will need something +after he gets here." + +The next morning Matthias came to deliver his bank-book to Louis, +saying: + +"Get the buryin' money; get it and send it fur me, please." + +Louis told him to keep his bank-book. + +"You shall see your boy as soon as money can get him here." + +"Oh, Mas'r Louis!" and he grasped both his hands; "de Lord help this ole +nigger to pay you. I's willin' to work dese fingers clean to de bone." + +Our two boys got on bravely. The first Saturday night we sent them home +with loaded baskets, and each with a pail of new milk, which we knew +would be a treat to the children, and in their little purses the amount +promised by Louis. Matthias took them to their homes, and Louis went +for them on Monday morning, and when he returned he said: + +"The pictures are growing, Emily. Bright eyes and rosy cheeks will come +soon." + +Mr. and Mrs. Waterman were leaving us. We were kissing "our baby" +good-bye. How we disliked to say the word! And when looking back at +Matthias after we started, she cried, "Mah, mah!" I laughed and cried +together. Louis and I parted with them reluctantly at the depot, and our +last words were: + +"Send John right along." + +"We will," they answered, as the train rode away and baby Allie pressed +her shining face against the window. It was only two weeks and two days +from that day that Louis, Clara and I (she said after our marriage "Call +me Clara, for we are sisters--never say 'mother Desmonde;' to say mother +when you have such a blessed one of your own is robbery to her") drove +to the depot to meet John. Matthias said to us, + +"You go fur him, ef you please, fur I can never meet him in de crowd; I +want to wait by de road an' see him cum along. Mighty feared I'll make a +noony o' myself." + +The train stopped, and Louis left us in the carriage and went to find +him. My heart jumped as I thought he might not be there, but ere I had +time to say it to Clara, he came in sight, walking proudly erect by the +side of Louis, as handsome a colored man as could be seen. He was quite +light, tall as Louis, and well proportioned, his mouth pleasantly shaped +and not large, his nose suited to a Greek rather than to a negro, and +over his forehead, which was broad and full, black hair fell in +tight-curling rings,--resembling Matthias in nothing save perhaps his +eyes. It did not seem possible this could be a man coming from the power +of a master--how I dislike that term, a slave--this noble looking +fellow; I shuddered involuntarily, and grasped his hand in welcome with +a fervent "God bless you, John; I welcome you heartily." Clara stretched +forth her little hand also, saying: + +"John, you can never know how glad we are." He stood with his hat +raised, and his large beautiful eyes turned toward us filled with +feeling as he answered: + +"Ladies, you can never realize the debt I have to pay you. It seems a +dream that I am here, a free man with an old father waiting to see his +son; oh, sir," and he turned to Louis, "my heart is full!" + +"We do not doubt it, dear fellow, but get into the carriage and let +Gipsy take us to the hills. She knows your father waits. Now go, Gipsy," +and the willing creature seemed inspired, going at a quick pace as if +she understood her mission. + +I saw Matthias sitting on a log a little this side of our home, shading +his eyes with his hand, and when John spied him, he laid his hand on his +heart and said: + +"Please let me get out and walk; excuse me, sir, but I cannot sit here." + +We respected his feelings and held Gipsy back, that he might with his +long strides reach his father before us, which he did. When Matthias saw +him walking toward him, he rose to his feet and the two men approached +each other with uncovered heads. At last, when about ten feet apart, +Matthias stopped and cried: + +"John, oh, John!" + +"Father, father, I am here," and with one bound he reached him, threw +his arms about him, while Matthias' head fell on his shoulder; and here, +as we reached them, they stood speechless with the great joy that had +come to them. Two souls delivered from bondage--two white souls bathed +in pure sunlight of my native skies. I can never forget this scene. We +spoke no word to them, but as we passed them John spoke, saying: + +"Sir, will you take my father's arm? He feels weak and I am not strong." +I took the reins and Louis, springing to the ground, stepped between, +and each taking his arm they walked together up to the door of our home +where Aunt Hildy, mother, father, Ben, Hal and Mary, Mrs. Davis, Jane +North and Aunt Peg, waited to receive them. When Matthias saw Peg he +said: + +"Come, Peg, come and kiss him; this is my John sure enuf." Supper waited +and the table was spread for all. Mr. Davis gave thanks and spoke +feelingly of the one among us who had been delivered from the yoke of +bondage, saying: + +"May we be able to prove ourselves worthy of his great love, and +confidence, and be forever mindful of all those both in the North and +South who wait, as he has waited, for deliverance." Matthias grew calm, +and when they left us to walk home, Louis and I went with them. On the +road over John said to Louis: + +"Sir, I am greatly indebted to you, and I am anxious to go to work at +once and pay my debt." + +"You owe me nothing," said Louis; "I have no claim upon your money or +time; I will help you in every way possible, and my reward will be found +in the great joy and comfort you will bring to your father in his old +age." + +"This is too much," said John. + +"Not enough," said Louis, and at Aunt Peg's vine-covered lattice 'neath +which he stood, we said good-night and turned toward home, while in our +hearts lay mirrored, another fadeless picture. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +JOHN JONES. + + +How the days of this year flew past us, we were borne along swiftly on +their wings, and every week was filled to overflowing with pleasant care +and work. John was called in the South after his master's name, but now +he said, inasmuch as he had left him and the old home in Newbern, it +would seem better to him to be called by his father's name, and so he +took his place among us as John Jones. He went to work with a will, +became a great friend to Ben and helped him wonderfully, for between the +saw-mill, the farm with its stock-raising and broom trade, which really +was getting to be a good business, Ben was more than busy. + +John was a mechanic naturally; he was clever at most anything he put his +mind on, "and never tried to get shet of work;" and his daily work +proved his worth among us. Matthias worked and sang the long days +through, and all was bright and beautiful before him. He tried to think +John's angel mother could look down from "hevin" on him, and it gave him +pleasure to feel so. + +When the fall came John said to Louis: + +"I want to know something. I promised the boys and gals that when I got +free I'd speak a few words for them, and I must learn something." + +So he came regularly to Louis through the winter evenings, and in a +little time he could send a readable letter to the friends down South. +Newbern was a nice place, had nice people, he told us, and he had been +well treated and permitted to learn to read, but the writing he could +not find time to master; he was skilful in figures, and Louis was very +proud of his rapid improvement. + +In our meetings he gradually came to feel at home, and at last surprised +us one evening by a recital of his life, and an earnest appeal to +Christians to forget not those who looked to the star in the North as to +a light that promised them freedom and the comforts of a home. His +large, expressive eyes grew luminous with feeling, and as he stood, rapt +in his own thought, which carried him back to the old home, he seemed +like a tower of strength in our midst, and when at the close of the +meeting, as we walked behind them, he took his father's arm, I heard +Matthias say: + +"John, you's done made me proud as Loosfer." + +And his handsome son bowed his head as he answered: + +"Thank the God who made us all to be brothers that I have the power to +tell these thoughts that rise within me. You feel just as I do, father, +only you can't express it, because they did not let you grow. The heavy +weight of slavery has held you close to the ground, and this is the +foundation of the system. The ignorance of the chattel is the life that +feeds the master's power. Like horses, if slaves knew this power, they +could break their bondage, and no hand on earth could stop them." + +Among the pleasant occurrences of this summer were the picnics of the +mill children, who enjoyed two days in July and two days in August +rambling in the woods and taking dinner in the old hemlock grove, where +the trees had been so lavish of their gifts that a soft carpet of their +fallen leaves covered the ground the long year through. The coolness of +this beautiful shelter was most refreshing, and it seemed as if nature +knew just how much room was needed to spread our lunch-cloth, for there +was the nicest spot in the world right in the heart of the grove, and as +we sat around our lowly table every third or fourth person had a +splendid hemlock tree to lean against. This was a rare treat to the mill +children, and oh, the faces of the pictures we painted in these days. + +Willie and Burton both had their own friends with them, and when in +conversation Louis spoke of the work of repairing the church and putting +in new pews, Burton Brown said: + +"My father can do such work." + +"Can you, Mr. Brown?" said Louis. + +"Yes, sir," he replied; "working in lumber is my trade; change and hard +luck forced me into the mill." + +I cannot tell you of all the events that occurred among us, but when the +smoke from a new chimney rose in the very spot almost where Aunt Hildy's +cottage stood, it was due to the fact that a new double house had been +erected on a splendid lot, and Willie and Burton were living there with +their parents. + +Mrs. Moore had grown young looking, though the grey hairs that mingled +with the brown still held their places. Mr. Brown did not meet +temptations here, and as Aunt Hildy said: + +"Headin' him off in a Christian way was the thing that saved him; poor +critter, his stomach gnawed, and he needed just them bitters I made for +him, and Louis' kind treatment and planning to help him be born agin, +and its done good and strong, jest as I knew it would be." + +Two more little mill boys were brought to Jane to take the places of +Willie and Burton, and Louis kept walking forward, turning neither to +the right nor left, bringing the comforts of living to the hearts that +had known only the gathering of crumbs from the tables of the rich, and +the few scattering pennies that chanced occasionally to fall from their +selfish palms. + +Clara's glad smile and happy words made a line of sunshine in our lives, +and the three years following this one, which had brought so many +pleasant changes, were as jewels in the coronet of active thought and +work, which we were day by day weaving for ourselves and each other. + +When Southern Mary left us, she gave to Aunt Hildy something to help +make out Jane North's pension papers, and the first step Aunt Hildy took +toward doing this was in the fall of 1853, when she painted Jane's house +inside and out. Then in the next year she built a new fence for her, and +insisted on helping Louis make some improvements needed to give more +room, and from this time the old homestead where Jane's father and +mother had lived and died, became the children's home, with Jane as its +presiding genius, having help to do the work. From six to eight children +were with her; three darling little girls whom Louis found in the +streets of a city in the winter of 1855, were brought to the Home by +him, and he considered them prizes. + +To be independent in thought and action was Louis' wisdom. He had regard +for the needs of children as well as of adults, for he remembered that +the girls and boys are to be the men and women of the years to come, and +to help them help themselves was his great endeavor. + +"For this," he would say, "is just what our God does for us, Emily. He +teaches the man who constantly observes all things around him, that the +proper use of his bounty is what he most needs to know, and to live by +the side of natural laws, moving parallel with them, is the only way to +truthfully solve life's master problem. Yea, Emily, painting pictures is +grand work; to see the ideal growing as a reality about us, to know we +are the instruments in God's hands for doing great good; and are not the +years verifying the truth of what I said to you, when a boy I told you I +needed your help, and also that you did not know yourself? I knew the +depth of your wondrous nature. My own Emily, you are a glorious woman," +and as tenderly as in the olden days, with the great strength of his +undying love, he gathered me in silence to his heart. How many nights I +passed to the land of dreams thinking, "Oh, if my Louis should die!" + +Father and mother were enjoying life, and when Aunt Phebe came to see +us, bringing a wee bit of a blue-eyed daughter, she said, "If I should +have to leave her, I should die with the knowledge that she would find a +home among you here." + +"I don't see why we haint thought out sooner," said Aunt Hildy; "you see +folks are ready, waitin', only they don't know whar to begin such work, +and now there's Jane North, I'll be bound she'd a gone deeper and deeper +into tattlin', ef the right one hadn't teched her in a tender spot, and +now she's jest sot her heart into the work, and as true as you live, +she's growin' handsome in doin' it. I'm ashamed of myself to think I +have wasted so much time. Oh, ef I'd got my eyes open thirty years ago." + +"Better late than never," said Aunt Phebe; "live and learn; it takes one +life to teach us how to prize it, but the days to come will be full of +fruit to our children, I hope." + +"Wall ef we sow the wind we reap the whirlwind sure, Miss Dayton." + +Aunt Phebe was very desirous that John should see Mr. Dayton, which he +did, and an offer to study with him the higher mathematics was gladly +accepted, and between these two men sprang a friendship which was +enduring. + +Uncle Dayton had helped many a one through the tangled maze of Euclid +problems and their like, and when John walked along by his side in ease +and pleasure, Mr. Dayton was delighted; and when he came to see us, he +said: + +"The fellow is a man, he's a man clear through. + +"Why," said he, "I was just the one to carry him along all right. I was +the first man to take a colored boy into a private school, and I did it +under protest, losing some of the white boys, whose parents would not +let them stay; not much of a loss either," he added, "though they +behaved nearly as well as the colored boys I took. I belonged at the +time to the Baptist Church; the colored woman, whose two sons I received +into my school, was a member of the same church; three boys, whose +parents were my brothers and sisters in the faith, were withdrawn, and +the minister who had baptized us all, and declared us to be one in the +name of the humble Nazarene, also withdrew his son from my school, being +unwilling to have him recite in the class with these two boys, whose +skin was almost as white as his own. The natural inference was, that he +considered himself of more consequence than the Almighty, for he +certainly had given us all to him, and I had verily thought the man +meant to help God do part of his work, but this proved conclusively that +the Lord had it all to do--at any rate that which was not nice enough +for the parson--and it took a large piece of comfort out of my heart. I +was honest in trying to do my duty, and it grieved me to think he was +not. Another young colored boy whom I took, is a physician in our city +to-day, and another who came to my house to be instructed has been +graduated at the Normal School of our State with high honors, being +chosen as the valedictorian of the class, and he is to-day principal of +a Philadelphia school. + +"I tell you this truth has always been before me, and I have run the +risk of my life almost daily in practising upon it. My school was really +injured for a time, and dwindled down to a few scholars, but I kept +right along, and the seed which was self-sowing, sprang up around me, +and to-day I have more than I can do, and the people know I am right." + +The blue eyes of Mr. Dayton sparkled as he paused in his recital, +running his fingers through his hair, and for a time evidently wandering +in the labyrinthine walks of the soul's mathematics, whose beautifully +defined laws might make all things straight, and it was only the sight +of John's towering form in the doorway that roused him, and he said: + +"I have brought to you Davies' Legendre. I thought he would receive more +thanks in the years to come than now, for is it not always so? Are not +those who move beyond the prescribed limits of the circle of to-day, +unappreciated, and must we not often wait for the grave to cover their +bodies, and their lives to be written, ere we realize what their hearts +tried to do for us? It is a sad fact, and one which shapes itself in the +mould of a selfish ignorance, which covers as a crust the tender growing +beauty of our inner natures. + +It was a cold day in December, 1856, when we were startled to see Jane +coming over the hill in such a hurried way that we feared something was +the matter with the children. These children were dear to me. Hal and +Mary had a beautiful boy two and a half years old, but no bud had as yet +nestled against my heart. + +I met her at the gate and asked, "What's the matter with the children?" + +"Go into the house, Emily _De_-mond, 'taint the children, it's me." She +wanted us all to sit down together. + +"Oh! dear, dear me, what can I do? I'm out of my head almost." + +We gathered together in the middle room, and waited for her to tell us, +but she sat rocking, as if her life depended on it, full five minutes +before she could speak--it seemed an hour to me--finally she screamed +out: + +"He's come back!" + +"Whom do you mean?" I cried, while mother and Aunt Hildy exchanged +glances. + +"He came last night; he's over to the Home, Miss Patten, d'ye hear?" + +"Jane," said Aunt Hildy in a voice that sounded so far away it +frightened me, "do you mean Daniel?" + +"Yes, yes; he's come back, and he wants me to forgive him, and I must +tell it, he wants me to marry him. I sat up all night talkin' and +thinkin' what I can do." + +"Jane," said Aunt Hildy, in that same strange voice, "has he got any +news?" + +"Both of 'em dead. Oh, Miss Patten, you'll die, I know you'll die!" + +"No, I shan't. I died when they went away." + +"What can I do, Miss Patten? Oh, some of you _do_ speak! Mis' _De_-mond, +you tell; you are allus right." + +Clara crossed the room, and kneeling on the carpet before her, said: + +"My dear soul, is it the one you told me of?" + +"Yes, yes," said Jane, "the very one; gall and worm-wood I drank, and +all for him; he ran away and--" + +"Yes," added Aunt Hildy, "tell it all. Silas and our boy went with him, +father and son, and Satan led 'em all." + +"Has he suffered much?" said Clara. + +"Oh, yes, marm, but he says he can't live without me! He hain't never +been married; I'm fifty-four, and he's the same age." + +"Jane," said Clara, "I guess it will be all right; let him stay with +you." + +"How it looks," interrupted Jane; "they'll all know him." + +"Never mind. The Home is a sort of public institution now; let him stay, +and in three weeks I'll tell you all about it." + +"Get right up off this floor, you angel woman, and lemme set on the sofy +with you," said Jane. + +Louis and I left the room, and after an hour or so Jane went over the +hill, and Aunt Hildy stepped as firmly as before she came. Poor Aunt +Hildy, this was the sorrow she had borne. I was glad she knew they were +dead, for uncertainty is harder to bear than certainty. I wondered how +it came that I should never have known and dimly remembered something +about some one's going away strangely, when I was a little girl. My +mother had, like all Aunt Hildy's friends, kept her sorrow secret, and +she told me it was a rare occurrence for Aunt Hildy to mention it even +to her, whom she had always considered her best friend. + +If Jane had not herself been interested, it would have leaked out +probably, but these two women, differing so strangely from each other, +had held their secrets close to their hearts, and for twenty-five long +years had nightly prayed for the wanderers. + +Aunt Hildy's husband was a strange man; their boy inherited his father's +peculiarities, and when he went away with him was only sixteen years of +age. + +Daniel Turner was twenty-nine, and the opinion prevailed that he left +home because he was unwilling to marry Jane, although they had been for +several years engaged, and she had worked hard to get all things ready +for housekeeping. He was not a bad-looking man, and evidently possessed +considerable strength. + +Clara managed it all nicely, and when the three weeks' probation ended, +they were quietly married at Mr. Davis', and Mr. Turner went to work on +the farm which Jane had for many years let out on shares. He worked well +through the rest of the winter, and the early spring found him busy +doing all that needed to be done. + +He was interested in our scheme, and felt just pride in the belongings +of the Home, which was really settling into a permanency. We sometimes +had letters of interrogation and of encouragement as well, from those +who, hearing of us, were interested. + +Louis often said the day would come when many institutions of this kind +would be established, for the object was a worthy one, and no great need +can cry out and not finally be heard, even though the years may multiply +ere the answer comes. + +"Changes on every hand," said Mr. Davis, "and now that the pulpit has +come down nearer to the people, and I can send my thoughts directly into +their hearts, instead of over their heads, as I have been so often +forced to do, we may hope that the chain of our love will weld us +together as a unit in strength and feeling. I almost wish our town could +be called New Light, for it seems to me the world looks new as it lies +about us. The lantern of love, we know, is newly and well trimmed, and I +feel its light can never die; it may give place to one which is larger, +and whose rays can be felt further, but it can never die. I really +begin to believe there is no such thing as death. I dislike the word, +for it only signifies decay. I call it change, and that seems nearer +right." + +"So it is, Mr. Davis," said Clara, as he talked earnestly with us of his +interest in the children and the people about us, "for, even as children +are gradually changing into men and women, so shall our expanding lives +forever climb to reach the stature of our angelhood, which must come to +us when we let the perishable garments fall, and the mortal puts on its +immortality. If we all could only see that our Father will help us to +shape these garments even here; could we know that stitches daily taken +in the garment that our soul desires are necessary that it may be ready +for us when we enter there,--how great would be the blessing! This would +relieve death of its clinging fears, and our exit from earth and +entrance to the waiting city would be made as a pleasant journey. + +"Louis, dear boy, feels all this, and if the cold hearts of speculative +men could be warmed and softened into an unfolding life, he would not +constantly do battle with the wrong; but truth is mightier than error. +God's love must at last be felt, and when the delay is over, how many +hearts, now deaf to his entreaties, will say with one accord, 'we are +sorry, if we could live our days over, we would help you!'" + +Louis did do battle, that is true; he paid due respect to people of all +classes, but fearlessly and trustfully he dealt, both by word and +practice, vigorous blows against all enslaving systems. He said to us +sometimes, that when he went to the mill--as he constantly did, working +until every one of the twenty boys to whom he promised liberty, found +it--he came in contact with three different conditions; he classified +them as mind, heart and soul. "When I talk to them," he said, "or if I +go there on my mission and speak no words, I hear their souls say 'he is +right and we are wrong;' I hear the earthly hearts whisper hoarsely, +'curse the plans of that fellow, he is in our way;' and the worldly +policy of the mind steps forth upon the balcony of the brain and says, +'treat him well, it is the best policy to pursue, for he has money.' +Yes, my Emily, I thank God for the fortune my father left me, hidden in +the silver service. It shall all be used. You and I will use it all. And +was the bequest not typical, its very language being 'a fortune in thy +service, oh, my father!'" + +"I never thought of this; how wonderful you are, Louis," I said. + +"And you, my Emily, my companion, may our work be the nucleus around +which shall gather the work of ages yet to be, for it takes an age, you +know, to do the work of a year--almost of a day." + +Our lives ran on like a strong full tide, and all our ships were borne +smoothly along for four full years. An addition had been made to Jane's +house, and her husband proved loyal and true, so good and kind and +earnest in his work that Aunt Hildy said: + +"I have forgotten to remember his dark days, and I really don't believe +he'd ever have cut up so ef Silas had let him alone." + +Good Mrs. Davis had sought rest and found it, and a widowed niece came +as house-keeper. John Jones was growing able to do the work he promised +the girls and boys down South, and lectured in the towns around us, +telling his own story with remarkable eloquence for one who had no early +advantages. He was naturally an orator, and only needed a habit of +speaking to make apparent his exceptional mental capacity. Aunt Hildy +was not as strong when 1860 dawned upon us, and she said on New Year's +evening, which with us was always devoted to a sort of recalling of the +past: + +"Don't believe I'll be here when sixty-one comes marchin' in." + +Clara looked at her with a strange light in her eyes, and said: + +"Dear Aunt Hildy, wait for me, please; I'd like to go just when you do." + +It was the nineteenth day of April this year, when an answer to a prayer +was heard, and a little wailing sound caused my heart to leap in +gratitude and love. A little dark-eyed daughter came to us, and Louis +and I were father and mother. She had full dark eyes like his, Clara's +mouth, and a little round head that I knew would be covered with sunny +curls, because this would make her the picture I had so longed to see. + +"Darling baby-girl, why did you linger so long? We have waited till our +hope had well-nigh vanished," and the dark eyes turned on me for an +answer, which my heart read, "It is well." + +Louis named her "Emily Minot Desmonde." It was his wish, and while, as I +thought, it ill suited the little fairy, I only said: + +"May she never be called 'Emily did it.'" + +"May that be ever her name," said Louis, "for have you not yourself done +that of which she will be always proud, and when we are gone will they +who are left not say of you, 'Emily did it'? + +"Ah! my darling, you have lost and won your title, and it comes back +shaped and gilded anew, for scores of childish lips have echoed it, and +'Emily did it' is written in the indelible ink of the great charity +which has given them shelter." + +"Louis, too," I said, and he answered: + +"Had I not found my Emily, I could never have undertaken it. You cannot +know how I gathered lessons from your happy home. In my earliest years I +was dissatisfied with the life which money could buy. I did not know the +comforts of work and pleasure mingled, and it was here, under these +grand old hills, while communing with nature, I sought and found the +presence of its Infinite Creator; and your smile, your presence, was a +promise to me which has been verified to the letter." + +When Clara held our wondrous blessing in the early days of its sweet +life, she looked sometimes so pensively absent that I one day asked her +if she did not wish Emily had come sooner. + +"Ah! my Emily, mother; 'tis a wrong, wrong thought, still I cannot deny +it;" and a mist covered her tender eyes. My heart stood still, for I +knew she felt that her hand would not lead our little one in the first +steps she should take, and the thought embittered my joy. I suppose +everybody's baby is the sweetest, and I must forbear and let every +mother think how we cared for and tended the little one, and how our +heartstrings all vibrated at the touch of her little hand, and if she +was ill or worrisome, which she was earthly enough to be, we were all +robbed of our comfort till her smiles came back. + +Aunt Hildy was an especial favorite, and she would sit with her so +contentedly, while that dear old face, illumined by the sun of love, +told our hearts it was good for baby's breath to moisten the cheek of +age. + +Little Halbert, as we called Hal's boy, was as proud of his cousin as +could be, and my old apple tree, which was still dear, dropped leaves +and blossoms on the heads of the children, who loved to sit beneath its +branches. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +CLARA LEAVES US. + + +The year 1861 had dawned upon us, and Aunt Hildy had not left us as she +had expected to. + +I said to her, "I believe you are better to-day than you were one year +ago." She folded her hands and looking at me, said: + +"Appearances is often deceitful, Emily; I haint long to stay, neither +has the saint among us. Her eyes have a strange look in them nowadays, +and the veins in the lids show dreadful plain; we must be prepared for +it." + +I could not talk about this, and how was I to prepare for it? I should +never love her less, and could I ever bear to lose her, or realize how +it would be without her? "Over there" was so far beyond me, I could only +think and sigh and wait; but the symptoms of which Aunt Hildy spoke I +noticed afterward, and it was true her eyelids seemed more transparent, +and her eyes had a watery light. + +I knew she was weak, and since the snow had fallen was chilled more +easily than before, and had ventured out but little. I did not desire to +pain Louis, but feeling uneasy, could not rest until I talked with him, +and he said his heart had told him the little mother would leave us ere +long. "If she lives till the fall, we will go down and see Southern +Mary, if we can." Little Emily clung very closely to Clara, and if I had +not insisted on having the care of her, I believe she never would have +asked for me. Mother said we should spoil her, and Ben declared she +"would make music for us by and by." Ben was still interested in his +work, and as busy as a bee the long days through. + +"Thirty-three years old," I said to him, "are you never to be married?" + +"Guess not," he would reply laughingly, "I can't see how Hal could get +on without me, and I, in my turn, need John. What a splendid fellow he +is! They all like him around us here, and I believe I shall sell out the +mill to him and buy another farm to take care of. He handles logs as +easily as if they were matches. He is a perfect giant in strength." + +"Yes, I know, Ben, but he never will live in a saw-mill. John is +destined to be a public man; he will have calls and by and bye will +stand in the high places and pour forth his eloquence. He may buy a +saw-mill, but he will never keep himself in it, no matter how hard he +tries." + +"So my cake is all dough, you think, so be it, sister mine;" and baby +Emily received a bear hug from Uncle Ben, who, a moment later, was +walking thoughtfully over the hill. + +The eighteenth of March was a cold day, extraordinarily so, tempestuous +and stormy. Louis had been in Boston three days, and we thought the +winds were gathering a harsh welcome for his return. His visits to +Boston were getting to be quite frequent nowadays, for he had found +some warm friends there, who had introduced themselves by letter, and +now they were making united efforts to found a home for +children,--foundlings who were to be kept and well cared for, until +opportunities were presented to place them with kind people in good +homes. He was getting on wonderfully, and I could hardly wait for the +news he would bring to us. + +He came at last, and with him an immense square package looking in shape +very like a large mirror or a painting, and I wondered what it could be. +Baby Emily had to be saluted cordially, and both her little arms were +entwined around his neck. + +"Now, now, little lady," said Louis, "go to thy royal mother, I have +something to show thee," and taking off the wrappings of the mysterious +package, he placed two life-size portraits before us, saying as he did +so: + +"Companion pieces, my life's saving angels--behold yourself, my Emily, +see my fairy mother," and sure enough there we were. A glance at Clara +caused me to exclaim: + +"Wilmur Benton painted them." + +"Yes, both," he replied. "Are they not beautiful?" + +"Mine is not, I am sure, Louis; but your mother's,--oh, how lovely it +is, and as natural as life! It must be the one to which Mary referred." + +"It is, my Emily. I secured it long ago, and Mr. Benton has been a long +time at work on yours. He is sadly afflicted, and does not look like the +same man. His wife is dead, and I think he will not himself stay long. I +have been to see him always when in Boston, and would have told you all +before, had I not feared you might, by getting hold of one thread, find +another; Hal knows all about it. But see, Emily, just see yourself as +you are. I told you your eyes should speak from the canvas, and is it +not as well as if my own hand had held the brush?" + +I looked the words I could not say, and wondered how it came that this +likeness should have been painted without my being before the artist. It +was years since Wilmur Benton left us, and the picture represented me at +my present age, I thought, and I asked: + +"How did he get the expression, Louis?" + +"Oh, Emily, he remembered every outline of your face, and with the +greatest ease defined them! Then from time to time, I sat near and +suggested here or there a change, until at last the work was perfected, +which in all its beauty only tells the truth; you do not see yourself +when your face lights up with glorious thought; the depth of your eyes +was to me always a study, and this man, Emily, carries in his heart +to-day the knowledge of your worth; he holds you and my little mother in +fond remembrance. His soul is purified by suffering, and this last visit +I made him has given him strength to tell me his whole life. When with a +sigh he ended his story, he looked at me sorrowfully, and said: + +"'I suppose you will despise me now, but I feel that after all your +kindness I must tell you, for it is right you should know. Halbert, I +have never told--it is as well not to do so.'" + +"Poor fellow," I said, "and we knew it all before." + +"No, not all; his life has been a drama with wonderfully wild, sad +scenes, and the great waves of his troubles and errors have, at times, +driven him nearly crazy. His eldest son is an artist like himself, and +finely organized. The other is in the West with an uncle of his +mother's. Are you sorry I have done all this? Speak, my beloved." + +My eyes told him that my heart was glad for the little comfort he could +give this man whose perfidy had given me sorrow, and Clara said: + +"To help one lost lamb to find the fold is the blessed work my boy +should always do." + +Aunt Hildy raised both hands at sight of our pictures, exclaiming: + +"Beautiful! beautiful! Splendid! Louis could not have brought us all a +greater surprise, or one that would have been more highly valued." + +Little Emily patted and kissed the faces, and soon learned to designate +them, "pit mam and mam Cla," for pretty mamma and mamma Clara. + +A few weeks after this we were sitting together in earnest conversation; +the small, dark cloud hung over us that threatened civil war, and while +I could hardly believe it possible, Louis and Clara said it must come. +Matthias came in of an errand, and sat down to hear us talk, and when +father said, "Oh, no, we shall not have war; those Southerners are too +lazy to fight," he raised both his hands and exclaimed: + +"Excoose me fur conterdictin' ye, but, Mr. Minot, ye dunno 'bout dat; +dey'll fight to de end ob time for dar stock. A good many on 'em owns +morin' two hundred, an' its money; it's whar de living comes from. Ef +you gib 'em a chance dey'll show you a big streak, an' fight dey will +for sartin." + +The words had hardly left his lips, when Clara said: + +"Oh! take me quick, dear boy!" + +We all sprang to her side. Ere Louis could put his arms around her, she +fell from her chair like dead. + +"Fainted! Water!" said Louis. + +"Camfire!" said Aunt Hildy, and I stood powerless to move or speak. I +saw Louis lay her on the sofa, and thought she was dead; the room grew +dark, and I forced myself to feel my way to the door, and leaning +against it would have fallen had not father put his arm about me and led +me through into the entry where I could get some air. When the sickening +swimming feeling left me, and the mist fell from my eyes, I was strong +enough to do something, and kneeling by the side of the motionless +figure, felt her pulse, or rather tried vainly to find it, and put my +cheek to her mouth, whence came no breath. + +"Oh! Clara darling, little mother, speak to us, our hearts are breaking! +Oh, Louis! get hot water and flannels, chafe her limbs, put a hot cloth +over the stomach and chest; she is not dead," and putting my head down, +I breathed full, long breaths into her nostrils. + +"'Taint no use," said Aunt Hildy, "but we must do it," and she worked +with a will. + +"That poor angel woman is done gone," said Matthias. "She couldn't stan' +it. Oh, de Lord!" and he looked the picture of despair. + +We were losing hope of resuscitation, and I sank on the floor beside +Louis, who still knelt at the head of the lounge, when a faint sound +came from her lips. We held our breath and listened, and now in a low, +weak voice she said: + +"I'll go back, Louis Robert, to say good-bye; I can stay a little +longer; oh! they feel so badly--yes, I must go back," and then long, +deep sighing breaths were taken. A little longer and her eyes +opened--"Louis, Emily, baby, friends, I am here." + +"Oh! little mother," said Louis, "where is the trouble?" + +She tried to smile, as if to cover all our fears, and said with effort: + +"I am weak; I could not hold together; get some of Aunt Hildy's +bitters," and when the glass containing it was held to her lips, she +drank eagerly. + +"Take both hands, Louis; let the baby touch me." + +"Oh, Clara, don't go!" I said, as I held little Emily near her. + +"No, no, not now, but I want help to stay; keep the baby close. + +"Matthias, don't go home," she said, and then, closing her eyes, lay so +still and motionless I feared she would never move again. + +A half hour had passed and she still looked so cold and white, when +suddenly her eyes opened, and her voice was strong as she said: + +"I am better now, I have come clear back,--help me to get up, dear boy," +and Louis put his arms around her to raise her; as he did so I saw a +strange look pass over her face, and her hands were laid on her limbs. +She turned her beautiful eyes upon me, as if to say "don't be +frightened," and said, "Please move my limbs, there is no feeling +there--they are paralyzed, and I am so glad it is not my hands." I moved +them gently, and thought when she was really herself she would be able +to use them. She seemed now bright and cheerful as before. + +The evening wore on; Matthias went home, and at Clara's request Aunt +Hildy occupied a room with her down stairs, Louis carrying her tenderly +to her couch as if she were a child. + +Sleep came toward us with laggard steps through the long night; Louis +seemed to realize it all so plainly, and my heart was in my throat. I +tried to hope, and when at last I fell asleep I wandered in dreams to a +wondrous fountain, whose silvery spray fell before me as a gleaming +promise, and I thought its murmuring music whispered, "she will live," +and her Louis Robert, who stood near me, constantly sang the same sweet +words. I believe my dream really comforted me, for when I woke it clung +to me still, and "she will live" rang in my ears like a sweet bell +chime. + +We found her better and like herself, but the lower limbs were cold as +marble, heavy also and without feeling, and we knew it was, as she had +said, "paralysis." + +"Now I am to be a burden, my Emily mother, and oh, if you had not called +me back, I would have gone to the hills with Louis Robert! It was not +fancy nor delirium, for I knew that my body was falling. I saw him when +he came and whispered 'now, darling, now,' and when I lost your faces, +he raised me in his arms, and I was going, oh! till somebody breathed +upon me, and warm drops like rain touched my cheek, and I heard your +hearts all say, 'we cannot have it.' This like a strong hand drew me +back, and I thought I must come and say good-bye for a comfort to you +all. So Louis Robert, with his great love waiting for me there, drew +himself away and kindly said, 'I will wait,'--then a mist came between +us, and I opened my eyes to see you all around me." + +"Oh, Clara! how can we ever let you go?" + +"Ah, my beloved ones! I only go a little before you, and if you knew how +sweet it will be to be strong, you would say, because you love me, 'I +may go.' I have many things to say--and I shall remain with you a time, +and may, I fear, weary you. I am glad Louis is strong." + +It was pitiful to see the patience with which she bore her suffering. +There was no pain, she said, but it was a strange feeling not to be +alive--and she would look at her limbs and say, "Poor flesh, you are not +warm any more." We had one of her crimson-cushioned easy chairs arranged +to suit her needs, and in this she could be rolled about. She sat at the +table with us and I kept constantly near her, and tried to shield her +from any extra excitement. When on the thirteenth day of April, news +reached us of the blow which, the day before, had fallen on Sumter, we +feared to let her know it. But her spirit quickened into the clearest +perception possible, divined something, and obliged us to tell her. + +She said: "I knew it would come, I have felt it for years, and when the +cruel sacrifice is finished, liberty will arise, and over the ashes of +the slain will say, 'Let the bond go free.'" + +Ben's eyes looked as Hal's did, when he left us for Chicago, and he +whispered to me: + +"I must go. Hal must stay here; Louis cannot go. John will see to every +thing for me, and I am going." + +Six days later he had enlisted, and oh! how filled these days were! When +Matthias heard of it, he came over, and happening to meet me where he +could talk freely, he said: + +"Dis is jes' what I knowed was a comin', an' I have tole Ben fur to kill +dat Mas'r Sumner, de fus' ting, for he's the one dat ort fur to be +killed." + +"Why, Matthias, you are in a great hurry to kill him, and you really +believe he is to drop right into that terrible fire; why, I could not +hurry a dog out of existence if I thought everlasting torment awaited +him." + +"Look a yere, Miss Em'ly, ef dat dog wuz mad, you'd kill him mighty +quick, wouldn't ye?" + +I did not know what to say, and he answered the question himself: + +"Yas, de Lord knows, dat man needs tendin' to, an I'se mighty anxious +fur de good Lord to take him in han'. We'll live to see ebery black man +free, Miss Em'ly,--we shall, shure,--an' dere'll be high times down in +Charleston. Wonder what little Molly'll do?" + +"I have been thinking about her," I said. "You know the last letter we +received they were fearful of war, and thinking of coming to her +husband's friends in Pennsylvania; but she feared her mother would die; +she has been poorly for a long time." + +"Reckin she'll die, then, fur de 'sitement'll kill her, ef nuffin else +don't." + +The days wore on and Clara still lingered with us. Ben was as yet +unhurt, and first lieutenant of his company. He wrote us that battle was +not what he had thought it; he was not shaky at all, and the smell of +powder covered every fear; he had only one thought and that was to do +his duty. A letter full of sorrow came from Mary. Her mother had passed +from earth, and her father was going on to a little farm they owned a +few miles from the city, and she, with her husband and Althea Emily was, +trying to get into Pennsylvania. "I am in momentary fear," she wrote, +"for my husband is watched so closely, his principles are so well known, +I think we shall have great trouble in getting through, but we cannot +stay here." + +The dewy breath of May was rising about us; violet angle was alive with +its blossoms, and the birds sang sweetly as if there were no sorrowing +hearts in the land. + +Clara had failed of late, and the evening of the fifteenth we were +gathered together at her request in her sitting-room. + +"Do not feel troubled," she said, "for when I am out of sight, you will +sorrow if you feel I have not told it all. Come, baby Emily, sweet bird +sit close to mam Cla, while she tells the story." + +Louis and I sat on either side, Aunt Hildy with mother and father very +near, so that we formed a semi-circle. + +"I am losing my strength, as you all know," said Clara "and the day is +very near when I shall reach for the hand that will lead me to the +hills. Now, Louis, my dear boy, here is the paper I have written, +wherein I give to you all the things I believe you will prize. I believe +I have remembered all who have been so kind and so dear to me, and I +know you will comply with every wish, and I desire no form of the law to +cover my words." Louis took the papers with a trembling hand, and she +continued: "It is wise and right for me to tell you about the laying +away of this frame of mine, for I know if I do not tell you about it +many questions will arise, and we will have them all settled now before +I go beyond your hearing. I shall hear you and see you all the time. + +"First, buy for me a cedar coffin, since it will please you to remember +that this wood lasts longer in the ground than any other. Do not have +any unnecessary trimmings for it, and I would like to wear in this last +resting-place the blue dress I prize the most. You will find in my large +trunk the little pillow I have made for my head; just let me lie there a +little on one side, and put a few of Emily's sweet violets in my hand +that I may be pleasant to look upon. Leave no rings upon my fingers; +these I wear, my Louis Robert gave me, and you must keep them for his +grandchild," and as she said this, she unfastened the shining chain that +she had worn hidden so many years, and putting it around our little +Emily's neck, said: "Let her always wear the chain and the locket," and +while the baby's eyes reflected the gleam of the gold that dazzled them, +we were all weeping. "Do not feel so," said Clara; "it is beautiful to +go; let me tell you the rest. All these people whom I have known will +desire to look at my face, and for their sakes let me be carried into +the old church which has become to me so dear. I have asked Mr. Davis to +preach from the text, 'I am the resurrection and the life.' + +"Be sure that the children from the Home all go, and I would like you +with them to occupy the front pews. I have a fancy," and she smiled, +"that if you sit there it will help me to come near to my deserted +tenement. I know I shall be with you there, and I hope you will never +call me dead. My house of clay is nearly dead now, and the more strength +it loses the stronger my spirit feels. Mr. Minot said, long since, that +I might own part of his lot in the churchyard, and I would like to be +buried under the willow there. I like that corner best. Do not ever tell +little Emily I am there; just say I'm gone away to rest and to be well +and strong, and when she is older tell her the frame that held the +picture is beneath the grasses, and that my freed soul loves her and +watches her, for it will be true. If you feel, Louis, my dear boy, like +bringing your father's remains to rest beside me, you can do so. It will +not trouble either of us, for it matters little; we are to be together. +This is all, except that, if it be practicable, I should like the burial +to take place at the hour of sunset; this seems the most fitting time. +While the grave is yet open, please let the children sing together, +'Sweet Rest;' I always like to hear them sing this. To-morrow evening I +have something to say to the friends who really seem to belong to +me,--Hal and Mary, Mr. Davis, Matthias, Aunt Peg and John, Jane and her +husband. Please let them come at six o'clock." + +She closed her eyes wearily, and looked so white and beautiful, her +small hands folded, and the fleecy shawl about her falling from her +shoulders, and it seemed as if the material of life, like this delicate +garment, was also falling from her. Desolation spread its map before me. +I could think of nothing but an empty room and heart, and with Louis' +arms about me, I sobbed bitterly. Then I thought how selfish I was, and +said: "Louis, take her in your arms; she is so tired, poor little +mother." The blue eyes looked at me with such a tender light, and she +said, "Yes, I am tired." Louis gathered her in his arms and seated +himself in a rocker. Aunt Hildy went for some cordial. Mother and father +sat quietly with bitter tears falling slowly, and with little Emily in +my arms, I crossed the room to occupy a seat where my tears would not +trouble her. It was sadly beautiful. + +She drew strength from Louis, and was borne into her room feeling, she +said, very comfortable. I wanted to stay with her through the night, but +she said: + +"No, the baby needs you; so does Louis; I know how he feels; my night +will be peaceful and my rest sweet; Aunt Hildy will rest beside me." + +"Yes, yes, I'll stay, and we shall both rest well," said Aunt Hildy. + +In the morning she was weak, but we dressed her, and after eating a +little she felt better, and in the afternoon seemed very comfortable and +happy. We had our supper at a little after five o'clock, and at six +o'clock, as she had wished, all were in her room. + +"Louis, roll my chair into the centre of the room, and let me face the +west, for I love to see day's glory die. Now come, good friends all, and +sit near me, where I can see your faces. I want to tell you that I am +going out of your sight, and I have left to each of you what seemed good +and right to me. I hope, yes, I know you will remember that I love you +all so much I would never be forgotten. You are grown so dear to me that +I shall not forget to look upon you; and please remember that I am not +dead, but shall be to you a living, active friend, who sees and knows +your needs, and to whose heart may be entrusted some dear mission for +your greatest good. Mr. and Mrs. Turner," and she held her hands to +Jane and her husband, "be true and faithful to each other. Leave no work +undone, love the children, and ask help from the hills, whence it shall +ever come. You will, I am sure;" and her eyes turned inquiringly upon +them. + +"Oh, Mis' _De_-Mond," said Jane, "I will, oh, you blessed angel woman!" + +"I will, so help me God!" said Mr. Turner, and they took their seats, +while Clara, with a motion that said please come, called: + +"Matthias and Aunt Peg, and you too, John, don't think I can ever forget +you. You will come to me, and you will know me there, and, John, you +have a wonderful work to do; your words will bear sweet tidings to your +race, and your reward shall be that of the well-doer." + +"Oh, de good Lord! white lamb, how kin we ever let you go; you's done +got hold on our heart-strings! Oh, de good Lord bless ye, ye snow-white +darlin', an' ef it's de Mas'r's will, den we mus' lib all in the dark +widout ye, but de light ob your eyes is hevin to dis ole heart!" + +"Oh, that's true' nuf!" said Aunt Peg, "God'll take care on you, but +what'll we do?" and their groans fell like the wailing winds upon the +ears of us all; our hearts were touched to their inmost chords. + +"Mr. Davis," said Clara, and her eyes dilated with a wondrous light +while her voice grew unnaturally strong, "I am to see your wife. Shall I +say you are looking forward to meeting her?" + +"Just that, and it will not be long," and he bowed his head as he held +in both his own her white hand. + +"Halbert and Mary, come and let me bless you. My brother and sister, you +are so dear to me. You, Halbert, have a wondrous touch; you stand before +the shrine of art, and ere many years a people's verdict shall more than +seal your heart's desire; a master artist you shall be, my friend." + +"Oh, Clara, Clara!" said Hal-- + +"Yes," she continued, "Love's fawn has won the prize for you at home and +abroad; I leave to you a friend,--Louis will attend to it all,--and +among the little ones who come there will be some who have, like you, +talent; help them as you shall see fit." + +He could only bow his head, while Mary, sobbing as if her heart would +break, said: + +"Do not go; oh, do not leave us!" + +Clara closed her eyes and sank back among her cushions almost +breathless. We took her hands, Louis and I, and I feared she would never +speak again. Tearful and motionless these beloved ones sat about her, +and at last, when the crimson and gold swept like a full tide of glory +the broad western expanse that lay before us, she raised herself, looked +into all our faces, held her lips for a last kiss from us of the +household, and said in tones as clear as silver bells: + +"I am going now; he is coming. Aunt Hildy, you will come soon. Emily, +love my Louis. Louis, kiss me again; fold close the falling garment. +Baby, breathe on me once more--Louis Robert. Oh, this is beautiful!" + +Her head dropped on Louis' shoulder. Slowly the eyelids covered the +beautiful eyes. + +She was dead. Clara, the purest of all, dead and how beautiful the +transition! What a picture for the sunset to look upon, as with the full +tide of sympathy flooding our hearts, we stood around her where she lay! +John, in his strong dark beauty, with folded arms, and eyes like wells +of sorrow; Matthias and Aunt Peg, with tears running over their dusky +faces; good Mr. Davis, with his gray hairs bending over her as if to +hear her tell the message to his loved one; Aunt Hildy standing like one +who is only waiting for a little more to fill the cup, which is already +near her lips; my father and mother with their tender sympathies +expressed in every feature, with Jane and her husband near them like two +statues; Hal and Mary beside Louis and me, wrapt like ourselves in the +mantle of a strange and new experience. How long we stood thus, I know +not; the last sun-rays were dying as Aunt Hildy said: "We must wait no +longer; Jane and Aunt Peg, you'll help me, the rest of you need'nt +stay;" and so we left our beautiful dead, still in the hands of her +friends. + +The day of her burial was a perfect one--calm in its beauty, the blue of +its skies like the eyes of our darling. The little pillow made by her +own hands was of blue, covered with a fine web of wrought lace, and with +edging that had also been her handiwork. We dressed her as she +desired,--in a plain dress of pale blue,--the violet blossoms she loved +were in her hand, and it seemed to me as if I could never see her laid +out of sight--she was so beautiful in this last sleep; she looked not +more than thirty; there were no gray hairs among the brown, and no lines +of care or sorrow marked her sweet, pure face. + +All things were as she desired, and when the sun burned low on the +hills, we laid her under the willow, while the children sang "Sweet +Rest." + +"Will there ever be another like her?" I said. + +"Never," said Aunt Hildy. + +"No, never," said the hearts of all. + +My father missed her as much as if she had been his daughter, and I was +glad of little Emily's presence; it was a star in our night. Louis was +calm and strong, and spoke of her daily, and insisted on her plate at +the table, saying: + +"I cannot call her dead. Let us keep a place for her." + +It was a tender recognition which we respected. He looked after her, it +seemed to me, and almost saw her in her new home. The months wore on, +and our cares were still increasing. News of battles lost and won came +to us daily, and at last a letter telling of Lieutenant Minot having +been wounded seriously. It was impossible for any one to reach him at +present, and we must wait until he got to Washington, whither he would +be sent as soon as he was able. Our fears were great, but at last a +letter came from Washington, stating he would start for home on the +twenty-first of October, and he desired Hal to meet him in New York. Hal +found that the wound was in the shoulder, and the ball was still in it. +Unsuccessful probing had caused him great suffering, and we should +hardly have known him. + +When the real state of the wound was known, Aunt Hildy said: + +"I can get that ball out," and she went to work energetically. She cut +cloth into strips and bound all about the place where the ball entered, +and then she made a drawing "intment," as she called it, and applied it +daily, and in about four weeks, to our great delight, the ball came out. +Ben had the receipt for that wonderful "intment," and he calls it "Aunt +Hildy's miracle." + +When the cold days of the fall came upon us, Aunt Hildy felt them +greatly, and the morning of December tenth we awoke to find her gone; +she had gone to sleep to wake in a better home. + +It seemed as if we could not have it so, but when I remembered all she +had told me of her hopes and fears, when I knew she had found Clara and +was glad, I said we were selfish; let our hearts say "Amen." + +The town mourned Aunt Hildy, and again our church was filled to +overflowing, and the sermon Mr. Davis preached was a just and beautiful +tribute to our beloved friend, the true and faithful Hildah Patten. + +The day after the burial, father said to us in a mournful tone: + +"Now I have a duty to perform, and when she talked to me about it, she +said, 'Do it right off, Mr. Minot; don't wait because you feel kinder +bad to have me laid away. It's the best way to do what you've got to do, +and get it over with.' + +"So to-night we'll read the papers, and then we will carry out her +desires--good old soul; I do wish she could have stayed longer. I can +hardly see how we're going to live without her." + +The evening drew near, and Halbert, Mary and Ben, with little Hal, were +seated in the "middle room," while my father, with a trembling hand, +turned the key in a small drawer of the old secretary, and took out a +roll of papers and a box. As he did so a thought struck him, and he +turned suddenly, saying: + +"Why are not all here? She told me to have Matthias and Peg and John +come over. I believe a few more sad partings would make me lose my +memory." + +"I'll go over for them," said Ben; "it is early yet." + +"Yes, there is plenty of time," said father. "The sun sets early; the +shortest day in the year will soon be with us," and his eyes closed as +if he were too tired to think, and he sat in silence until the sound of +feet on the walk aroused him. + +"Hope we hain't come over to see more dyin', Miss Em'ly. 'Pears like its +gettin' pooty lonesome round yere," and as our friends seated +themselves, the old clock tolled the hour of seven. + +Little Emily was asleep in Louis' lap, and her cousin Hal curled himself +up in one corner of the old sofa, as if he, too, felt the presence of +the god of sleep. + +"Now we are ready," said my father, "and here is the paper written by +Aunt Hildy which she bade me read to you all, and whose instructions we +must obey to the letter, remembering how wise and good our kind friend +has ever been. It is written in the form of a letter," and he read the +following: + +"My dear friends, I am writin' this as ef I was dead and you still in +the land of the livin', as we call it; I feel now as if when you read it +I shall be in the land of the livin', and you among them who feed mostly +on husks. I know by this stubbin pain in my side that I shall go to +sleep, and jest step over into Clary's room before long, and all that +ain't settled I am settlin' to-night, and to Mr. Minot's care I leave +these papers and this box. You have been good and true friends to me, +and I want to help you on a little in the doin' of good and perfect +work. When Silas left me alone he took with him little money. I don't +know what possessed him; but Satan, I guess, must have flung to the +winds the little self-respect he had. He took one boy off with him to be +a vagrant. Silas' father was a good man, and he left a good deal of +property to this son of his, and we had got along, in a worldly sense, +beautiful; so when, he went away he left considerable ready money and a +lot of land, and I've held on to it all. Sometimes I've thought one of +'em might come back and want some of it; but now I know they are dead. +From time to time I've sold the land, etc., and you see I've added to +what was left. I now propose to divide it between Emily and Louis, as +one, Jane North Turner and her husband, and John Jones." + +As this name fell from my father's lips, John's dark eyes spoke volumes +and his broad chest heaved with emotion, but he sat perfectly erect, +with his arms folded, and I thought what a grand picture he made. + +Matthias groaned: + +"Oh, de good Lord ob Israel, what ways?" Aunt Peg gave vent to one of +her peculiar guttural sounds as father concluded the unfinished sentence +with the names of Ben, Hal and his good little wife. + +"Now, you can't do a great deal with this money, but it will go a little +ways toward helpin' out. I believe there is just three thousand dollars, +and that figgers only six hundred dollars apiece. Now, ef Ben's +shoulder prevents him from workin', and he needs to have it, Halbert +must give him half of what I leave to him, and I know he'll do it. Ben +wants to get married, and I can see which way the wind blows in that +quarter, and I think sense he's been half killed you'd all better help +him. When that comes to pass, give to him all the furniture and beddin' +that I leave, for his wife will be sensible enough to be glad of it. +Halbert's likeness of me in marble is a great thing they say, and sells +well, and he will please to put me up again in that same shape, and then +sell the picter and use the money to help the poor. He'll do jest what +I'd like to have him. + +"Emily and Louis will know jest what to do with their share; and now, +John Jones, to you,--as a child of our father, as a brother to me,--I +say, help yourself with what little I bestow in the very best way you +can. Ef I didn't know you would look well after Peg and Matthias I +should have left it to them and not to you. They won't stay here very +much longer, any way--and its all peace ahead, blessed peace. You, +perhaps, are wonderin' why Jane and her husband ain't here in this list. +This is the reason: I wanted to tell you jest how I come to have this +money, and I thought her husband would feel bad at the explanation. I +should like to have you all go over there, and let Mr. Minot read to Mr. +and Mrs. Turner and the children the paper I have left for them. Now I'm +contented to go, and ef they do put a railroad track through my wood +lot, it can't make me feel bad. The things of earth that I held so close +through long years, will not seem to me any more as they have, too holy +to be teched." + +When father concluded the reading, we sat in such silence that the tick +of the old clock, was to our ears the united beating of our hearts. Our +thoughts were all centered on the wisdom and goodness of our unselfish +friend who, through her life had been ever mindful of the needs of her +fellow-men, and who, when standing before the gate of her eternal home, +threw behind her her last treasure, thinking still of the poor hearts +who needed its benefit. + +We were to assemble at Jane's the next afternoon at five o'clock, and +when we said "good night," John looked up at the stars and said: + +"If the spirit of that good woman sees me, she reads what I cannot tell +you." + +The next afternoon found us in Jane's large square room, which faced the +western sky, and no less than twenty children were seated there with us. +This number seemed to be the complement of the Home,--as many as could +comfortably be accommodated. It was a pleasant care to Jane, for her +heart was in the work, and she looked younger now than before the work +began. The wishes of the boys were consulted, and each one as nearly +fitted to the place he occupied as possible. Jane said, when they first +began to multiply, the care troubled her some; but she began to talk to +herself, and to say: "There now, don't be foolish enough to notice every +little caper of them boys," and then, she said: "I began to practise +what I preached to myself. It worked first-rate, for I give over +watchin' 'em, and we get along splendid." + +There was a breathless silence when Louis said: + +"We are here at the request of your friend, children, the blessed Aunt +Hildy who has left a word for you. You know she loved you, and I +imagine at this moment you are each wearing a pair of stockings which +were knit for you by her. Now listen, please, while Mr. Minot reads to +you her letter." + +Then, in a slow and impressive manner, father read as follows: + +"My dear folks at the Home. I'm about to leave this world for a better, +and on the borders of that blessed land I think of you. I think of your +happy faces and of Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who love you so much, and I +should like to have you know that I expect to meet you all over there. +You boys will grow to be good men, and you girls, who are like sweet +pinks to my mind, I want you to make blessed good women every one of +you. Now I think the good folks who take care of you would be thankful +to have a school-house of their own, and teachers who are interested in +the work of helping you along; and to give a little help, I leave to Mr. +and Mrs. Turner eight hundred dollars--two hundred is in the box in one +dollar gold pieces--to build a school-house with. You know I own a piece +of land next to yours, and here in this plot of two acres I want you to +put up this school-house. Give Mr. Brown the work, and let him draw up +the plan with Mr. Turner; I've figured it out, and I think there's +enough to build a good, substantial building such as you need; and the +deed of the two acres I give to the children. Each one of their names is +there, including those of the two that came first. Let each one, ef old +enough, do as he or she pleases with the ground. Ef they want to raise +marigolds, let 'em, and ef they want to raise garden sass, let 'em. I +should think Burton Brown would like to step in as a teacher, and I +believe he will, but the rest you can manage. + +"Now this is all. When you get the school-house built you'll want a walk +around it, and ef you should have a border of flowers, you may put in +some 'live forever' for me, for that means truth, and that is what I +want you to find. If Fanny Mason feels like goin' over to Mis' Minot's +to live with her, I'd like to have her go, and if she does, she'll find +two chests and a trunk full of things I've left that she needs, but she +must have her piece of ground here just the same. The deed I have made +is recorded, and I would like to have Mr. Dayton survey the land, and +make the division of it. Then you can each one of you hold your own as +long as you live, Mr. and Mrs. Turner keepin' it in trust till the law +says you're of age." + +The hearts of the children were touched at this token of love. Bright +eyes reflected happy thoughts. Fanny Mason was the first to speak. She +looked at my mother, while her eyes swam in tears. + +"May I come, Mrs. Minot?--I would like to help somebody, and it must be +right or she would not have written it." + +Mother held her hand to her, and I thought I never saw gratitude more +plainly written than upon the face of Fanny. She was one of the three +girls whom Louis found in the city streets, the eldest of the flock, and +so good and amiable we had always loved her. When mother held her hand +out to her in answer to her question, little Emily thought it time to +speak, and putting out both her own, said: + +"Tum, Panny, et, you outer." + +"I will," said Fanny, as she gathered her in her arms. + +"I'm goin' to have flowers," I heard one little fellow say. + +"I'm goin' to raise corn," said another. + +Mr. Davis was with us this evening, and after the children had given +vent to their joy, he rose, saying: + +"I have a word to say of our dear good friend, Mrs. Patten. About four +weeks before she left us, I had a long talk with her. She told me of her +pleasant anticipations and also that she expected to see me there ere +long. Her last words on that memorable occasion were, as nearly as I can +remember, these: 'I go from death to life, from bondage to freedom. All +I have of earth I want to leave where it shall point toward heaven, or a +higher condition of things. If you were to stay, Brother Davis, you +should do some of this work, but you must get yourself ready, and you +need no more to dispose of.' I feel that this is true, and I ask you, +children, to feel that I shall hope to be remembered by you through +time. The lesson of harmonious action has been taught upon these hills, +and when the years to come shall brighten our pathway, tired hearts will +still be waiting. The angel of deliverance will be present then, as now, +and the munificence of those who have gone from us, as well as of those +who are yet in the body, has made the strong foundation on which to +stand; and in the blest future your hands will be helpful, while your +hearts shall sing of those whose hearts and hands did great service for +the advancement of love and truth. My heart is glad; I have learned +much; I know that our Father holds so closely his beloved, that no one +of his children shall call to him unheard." + +We had a real meeting, as Jane expressed it, and I said to Louis: + +"What a great fire a small matter kindleth!" + +He replied: "We have claimed the promise and brought to our hearts the +strength we need 'where two or three are gathered together.' You know I +often think of this, and also of the incomparable comfort the entire +world would have if the eyes that are blinded could see; if the hearts +that beat slow and in fear were quickened into life. Ah! Emily, the +years to come hold wondrous changes. The cruel hand of war would never +have touched us had the first lesson in life's book been well read and +understood." + +"That is true," said my father, as we entered the gate at home, and +looking up I saw two stars, and said: + +"Clara and Aunt Hildy both say 'Amen!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +AUNT HILDY'S LEGACY. + + +It was the spring of 1862, when "Aunt Hildy's Plot" was the scene of +happy labor. Uncle Dayton made the survey of the land and a map of it. +All the children knew the boundaries of their individual territories; +and the youngest among them, five-year-old Sammy, strutted about with +his hands in his pockets, whistling and thinking, now and then giving +vent to his joy. When he saw Louis and me coming, for we all went over +to see the ground broken for the schoolhouse, he came toward us +hurriedly, saying with great earnestness: + +"I shall raise much as three dollars' worth of onions on my land. Do you +s'pose I can sell em, Mr. Desmonde? I want to sell 'em and put the money +in the bank, for when I get money enough I'm going to build a house, and +get married, too, I guess." + +Louis answered him kindly, as he did all the rest, and when we went home +he said he held more secrets than any one man ought to. + +The dedication of our schoolhouse was a grand affair. It came off on the +seventeenth of June. Uncle Dayton and Aunt Phebe came, and we gathered +the children from the town and village, clothed them in white with blue +ribbons streaming from their hats, and had them marched in line into the +building--the first two holding aloft a banner which Louis and I had +made for them. Many came from the surrounding town, and three of our +friends from Boston. There were speeches made by Mr. Davis, Uncle +Dayton, Louis, John, and others, and singing by the children. It was a +glorious time, and we felt that our beloved Aunt Hildy must now be +looking down upon us with an approving smile; and when the marble +statuette of her dear self was placed in a niche, made for its +reception, it seemed to me I could hear Clara say, "It is beautifully +appropriate." + +The mode of operation was to be decided on, and when Louis spoke with +feeling of the coming days, he said to the children: + +"You are our children; we are your friends; and together we mean to be +self-supporting, instead of going about among the people soliciting +alms. We will be pensioners on each other's bounty, and when we are +strong enough to aid others who need our assistance, we will send forth +gladly comforts from our home. Some little boys who are to raise +strawberries on their patch of ground, will be glad to carry a dish of +berries to some poor invalid; and so with everything you do, remember +the happiness of doing something for those around us, for the poor we +have always with us. I have been thinking about a teacher. Mr. Brown, +our little Burton from the mill, has engaged to teach school in an +adjoining village, and for a time cannot come to you. He will be able to +be your teacher after awhile, and I understand that is his wish. I +never taught school myself, but I have been wondering if you would like +me to try until he is ready. All those who would like me to come, say +aye." + +I rather think Louis heard that response. I started, for such a sharp, +shrill sound rent the air that the window glass quivered as if about to +break." + +"Now all who do not wish me for a teacher, say no." + +A calm like that of the Dead Sea ensued, to be broken after a second by +little Sammy, who cried: + +"Oh, pooh! There ain't nobody." + +"Agreed," said Louis; "then I am elected, am I?" + +"Yes, sir!" shouted the children. + +"Then we'll hear you sing 'Hail Columbia,' and separate for the day. I +hope the summer will be a happy one for you all!" + +It will be impossible to fully describe "Aunt Hildy's Plot," as it +appeared in the days when everything was settled, and the children at +work in earnest, each with an idea born of himself. + +I thought I saw little that spoke to me of original sin and of the +depravity which, according to an ancient creed, grew in the human heart +as a part of each individual. There were strawberry beds and raspberry +rooms, patches of lettuce and peppergrass, long rows of corn with +trailing bean-vines in their rear, hedges of peas and string beans, and +young trees set out in different places, like sentinels of love and care +reaching toward the overarching sky. + +Little Sammy had his onion patch as he desired. It was a happy sight, +and one that touched the heart, to see each one progressing +methodically day after day. They worked an hour before breakfast, and as +long as they pleased after supper. They took great comfort in "changing +works," as they called it; you would hear them say: + +"Now, let's all go over to Joe's land this afternoon, and to John's +to-morrow;" and in this way they sowed and reaped together. + +The plot measured considerably more than two acres, and there was a +space of about twenty square rods for each. + +This, when properly cared for, made for them nice gardens to take care +of. Louis succeeded, of course, in the school. The building had cost +considerably more than six hundred dollars, for we knew it was wise to +build it of brick rather than wood, and also to have room enough for an +increase of pupils. + +Louis said, when it was being built: + +"I can see, Emily, the days to come; the harvest that shall arise; and +for years, perhaps, the hands of the reapers will not number many. Some +of the seed will fall on barren soil, and some of the grain that waits +for the reaper will spoil; but in the end, yes, in the gathering up of +all, the century shall dawn that lights the world with these dear +thoughts that feed us to-day. Work and pleasure go hand in hand with the +progressive thought that after a time shall blend the souls of men with +those of angels, for 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.' +I feel that I have escaped so much in coming here when I did. These +hills have, with your presence, my beloved, made it the shrine of +purity, and the vows here taken have absolved my soul. The little +things that arise to annoy us may not be called trouble, and we shall +live here till our hair is gray; till Emily Minot shall take in her own +hands the reins that fall from the hands of her mother; for I feel that +all the unfinished pictures which we shall leave will be completed, some +at the hands of our daughter, and others by those whose hearts we shall +learn to know. + + Before we leave this lower state + To join the well-beloved who wait, + Our little mother helps us here, + Our guardian angel through each year. + She was as beautiful as fair; + How glorious an angel there!'" + +And the face of my Louis, transfigured by his thought, shone with a +light that seemed to come from afar. I loved so well to hear him preach, +that when Mr. Davis' health became too precarious for him to occupy the +pulpit longer, I was glad to hear Louis say he would accept the place +tendered by Mr. Davis and by all the people of our town. I say all the +people, although perhaps there were a few who, liking to be busy and +failing to look for anything better, occupied themselves with the small +talk which made sometimes great noise without really touching anybody; +but we did not count this in life's cost, and were not affected by it. + +Louis treated all with uniform kindness, and taught them the lessons +they could not fail to appreciate, though, as he had said, some of the +seed must fall on barren ground. It is not to be supposed that the +mill-owners were glad to lose the work of the children, for it was +worth much and cost little; but since they were not powerful enough to +establish monarchical government, they were forced to submit, and they +submitted gracefully, too, from the policy which, as Louis had said, +whispered "He has money," and they might sometime desire favor at his +hands. + +It seemed to me sometimes that Louis' money would not last as long as +his life; but when I said something of the kind, he answered: + +"Yes, yes, Emily; we shall not be embarrassed financially, for we +consult needs, and these you know are small compared to wants. A little +ready money will go a long way; we shall not suffer from interest nor +from high rates of taxation here; give yourself no uneasiness." + +When the school was started we were surprised, as well as pleased, to +receive calls from some of our good people, who desired to have their +children go to the Home School as pupils. They felt moved to take this +step from two considerations; one, the more thorough education which the +children would receive; and the other, an interest felt in our work, and +a desire to help the school to become one of the best. + +They proposed paying a tuition fee, to which we all consented, reserving +to ourselves the right of taking those who might desire to attend and +not be able to pay; and through their really generous contributions in +this way, when Burton Brown came to assume the duties of a schoolmaster, +there was a fund sufficient to pay him well for his services. + +We named this the Turner Fund, although Jane insisted it should be +_De_mond. + +John desired to donate his gift from Aunt Hildy to the Turner Fund, but +Louis objected, saying: + +"John, you have no right to do this; you need to get a house for +yourself before you help others. It would not be right to take your +money, and we cannot accept it." + +Matthias says: + +"'Pears like I kin tote ober to de 'Plot' an' tinker roun' thar wid de +chilun. John's done boun' I shan't do no moah work, an' I can't stop +still no how, for it 'pears like I'm dead 'fore de time." + +He made himself wonderfully useful there, and the children loved him. +John got along splendidly, and bought the saw-mill; for Ben, although +better, could not do any work at the mill, and John was very glad to own +it. + +I am ashamed to say that now and then a small-souled individual would +ventilate his miserable prejudices, and expressions like the following +came to our ears: + +"Wonder what'll happen if the niggers all get free; got one for a +saw-mill owner already;" all of which fell, to be sure, at John's feet +with an ignorant thud. Still, when we looked at him and realized his +noble nature, it seemed too bad to think there could be one such word +spoken. + +How fortunate it is that our hearts do naturally retain the perfume of +the roses, and forget the presence of the thorns! The wiser we grow the +more natural we become; and on the rock of truth we can stand, feeling +no jar, when the missiles of a grovelling mind are hurled against its +base. When we get tired, however, and are forced by the pressure of +material circumstances to wander down into the valley, while we stand +even then in the shelter of our mountain, still we find our feet +sometimes soiled by the gathered mud. + +Here is where the weak-hearted of our earth fail, and, looking not to +the mountains, become at last settled in the valley, and suffer even to +the end, borne down by the fettering chains of a life which is, at best, +only breathing. Their wings held close, they cannot rise beyond the +clouds and fog into the clearer atmosphere of a higher condition. + +My fortieth birthday is upon me. I am sitting in the room where, since +the day of our wedding, all of my best thoughts have been written. Sharp +winds blow around our dwelling, but our hearts heed not their harsh +voices. Louis and I have been retrospecting to-day, reading together the +journal of the past two years. We have kept it together, devoting two +pages to each day, each of us writing one. It is not uninteresting; many +changes have been dotted down; and still, to look in upon us, you could +not see them. Here is the date of one, the death of good Mr. Davis, and +an account of the sermon preached by Louis at his funeral, the +witnessing of his last experience among us, and the blessed comfort it +gave us, as with his death-cold lips he murmured, "My wife." Clara and +all, he saw their beckoning hands and angelic faces. He heard sweet +music blending with our voices as we sang to him at his request. + +"It is enough; let us rejoice together," said Louis, "for he has gone to +his own, and he shall have no more pain forever." + +On another page we read of the children's harvest gathered, and also of +their Christmas festivities, of the prosperous condition of the school, +and the untiring diligence of the scholars; extracts from lectures given +by John at the schoolhouse, and the date of his first lecture in the +Quaker city, Philadelphia; sorrowful records of the battles fought and +gained; a sad story of Willie Goodwin, who was taken prisoner by the +Confederates, and came home, poor fellow, only to die; news from our +Southern Mary in her Pennsylvania home, and an account of her visit to +us, bringing with her Louise, a pet girl, once owned by her father. I +saw John looking at her sharply, and with undisguised admiration, and I +thought, perhaps, when Ben's wedding day had passed, John might have +one. I could say truthfully, "I hope he will." + +No matter how many or great the changes, the robins still build their +nests in the elm tree, and the grass still grows to cover the earth of +brown with its emerald mantle; for what care the daisies and the grapes, +if the hand of the reaper bids them bow before his trusty blade? The +life is at their roots, and their flowers and blades will come again. So +with our hearts; they are as hopeful as in the earlier days, ere we had +lost sight of some of our jewels, and it is true our love has deathless +roots. + +Louis grows more blessed all the while. The step of my mother is slow, +and father bends to bear the burden of his years, while the voice of our +Fanny, who will be my sister through all time, cheers them in their +daily walk, as she holds in peace the place of little house-keeper. She +loves her home, and we love her. Louis and I have just been looking at +the pleasant picture in our middle room, where our Emily Minot, sitting +between gray hairs, holds in her lap a year-old brother (Louis), while +Fanny, sitting on the old sofa, sings the song of "Gentle Annie." + +Matthias, Peg and John are coming over the hill; Jane and her husband +will be here soon, for I am to have a birthday supper. Ben will be with +us, but Hal and Mary, with little Hal, are across the sea. They sailed +last June to find "Love's Fawn," or rather strength for Mary. Aunt +Hildy, "done up in marble," went with them. They will come to us in +June, the month of roses; I love it best of all. + +"Hope dey will; but 'pears like you's jes' gone an' done it." + +It is morning again. No clouds skirt the horizon; broad, beautiful +daylight beams lovingly upon us. The wind, which yesterday blew such +fierce breaths, journeyed southward during the night, and returned laden +with good-tempered sweetness, whispering of warmer days. We had a +pleasant birthday supper, and by request I read aloud a few of the +foregoing chapters. Matthias rose in terror as he listened to the +recital of our united lives, and interrupted me, saying: + +"De good lansake, 'fore de Lord ob Canaan! but you ain't gwine to put +_me_ down in rale printed readin', is ye?" + +One would have supposed I had been reading his death warrant, or +something equally portentous, as he stood before me with dilated eyes +and upraised hands. I smiled at the picture and answered: + +"Certainly." + +"Wall," he said, in a despairing tone, "it'll jes' kill de sale ob dat +book. All de res' is good nuf, but dem tings I'se said don't have no +larnin' to 'em, Miss Em'ly. 'Spect de folks'll tink you's done gone +crazy puttin' me down by de side ob de white lamb. It's mighty quare an' +on-reasonablelike, 'tis sartin'." + +"Oh, Matthias," I replied, "the people will like it!" + +"Hope you's in de right ob it, but what kin you call it when it's all +done printed out fur ye?" + +"That is the question. Louis says 'call it _The Harvest of Years_.'" + +The look of quiet wonder which had succeeded the terrified expression +his face at first revealed merged gradually into one of happy certainty, +his large eyes filled with honest tears, and he said with much feeling: + +"Mas'r Louis knows what's right sure nuf. De good Lord had taken into de +kingdom some ob de bes' grain an' lef de ole stubble still. 'Pears like +'twas cuttin' a big field fur to take Miss Catten an' de white lamb too. +Ah! Miss Em'ly, dis harves' ob years is a gwine on troo all de seasons; +hope dis ole nigger'll be ready when de Lord comes roun' fur him." + +The child of my thought is christened by the recognition which comes +from the heart of one who is "faithful over the few things," and +therefore claims the promise which many with enlarged privileges fail to +acknowledge. Can I regret the choice Louis made? My heart says "never," +and my narrative shall be called "The Harvest of Years." + +"Yes," said Louis, "I think so too; but my name for the book is 'Emily +Did It.'" + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Pg 164--moved closing quote from 'shook as if with ague."' to +'feel such a strange joy;"' + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harvest of Years, by +Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVEST OF YEARS *** + +***** This file should be named 18332-8.txt or 18332-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/3/18332/ + +Produced by Stacy Brown, Jason Isbell, Afra Ullah and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Ewell. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .tl {text-align: left;} + .tr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Harvest of Years, by Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Harvest of Years + +Author: Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +Release Date: May 6, 2006 [EBook #18332] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVEST OF YEARS *** + + + + +Produced by Stacy Brown, Jason Isbell, Afra Ullah and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h1>HARVEST OF YEARS</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2><i>M.L.B. EWELL</i></h2> + + +<p style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;" class="center">NEW YORK<br /> +G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS<br /> +182 <span class="smcap">Fifth Avenue</span><br /> +1880<br /> +</p> + + +<p style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%; margin-top: 2em;" class="center">Copyright by<br /> +G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS<br /> +1880<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>TO MY FAMILY</h3> + +<h3>THIS RECITAL OF MY LIFE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.</h3> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Old friends and other days have risen about me as I have written, +recalling, through my pen, these treasured experiences; and the pictured +characters are to me as real as earthly hands, whose touch we feel. I +have written as the story runs, with no effort at adorning, and those +who love me best will not bring to it the cold criticisms that may come +from other readers. To illustrate the truth of "a little leaven's +leavening the whole lump" has been my purpose, and if this purpose can +be even partially achieved, I shall deem myself sufficiently rewarded. +To those whom in previous years I have met in the field of my mission, +whose heart-felt sympathy and interest became the tide which bore me on, +as from public platform (as well as in private ways) I have, for truth's +dear sake, been impelled to utterances, to these friends I may hope this +volume will not come as a stranger, but that through it I may receive, +as in the days gone by, the grasp of their friendly hands.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right;">M.L.B.E.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">New Haven, Conn.</span>, <i>June</i>, 1880.</p> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table summary="toc" class="center"><tbody> +<tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.—Emily Did It</a></span></td> <td class="tr">1</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.—From Girlhood to Womanhood </a></span></td> <td class="tr">5</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.—Changes</a></span></td> <td class="tr">11</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.—Our New Friend</a></span></td> <td class="tr">18</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.—Louis Robert</a></span></td> <td class="tr">31</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.—A Question and a Problem</a></span></td> <td class="tr">49</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.—Wilmur Benton</a></span></td> <td class="tr">60</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.—Fears and Hopes</a></span></td> <td class="tr">71</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.—The New Faith</a></span></td> <td class="tr">84</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.—Matthias Jones</a></span></td> <td class="tr">95</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.—The Teaching of Hosea Ballou</a></span></td> <td class="tr">109</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.—A Remedy for Wrong-talking</a></span></td> <td class="tr">123</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.—Perplexities</a></span></td> <td class="tr">137</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.—Louis returns</a></span></td> <td class="tr">150</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.—Emily finds peace</a></span></td> <td class="tr">164</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.—Mary Harris</a></span></td> <td class="tr">177</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.—Precious Thoughts</a></span></td> <td class="tr">210</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.—Emily's Marriage</a></span></td> <td class="tr">226</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.—Married Life</a></span></td> <td class="tr">240</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.—Life Pictures and Life Work</a></span></td> <td class="tr">254</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.—John Jones</a></span></td> <td class="tr">274</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.—Clara leaves us</a></span></td> <td class="tr">290</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="tl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.—Aunt Hildy's Legacy</a></span></td> <td class="tr">317</td> +</tr></tbody></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_HARVEST_OF_YEARS" id="THE_HARVEST_OF_YEARS"></a>THE HARVEST OF YEARS</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>"EMILY DID IT."</h3> + + +<p>Among my earliest recollections these three words have a place, coming +to my ears as the presages of a reprimand. I had made a frantic effort +to lift my baby-brother from his cradle, and had succeeded only in +upsetting baby, pillows and all, waking my mother from her little nap, +while brother Hal stood by and shouted, "Emily did it." I was only five +years of age at that eventful period, and was as indignant at the +scolding I received when trying to do a magnanimous act, take care of +baby and let poor, tired mother sleep, as I have been many times since, +when, unluckily, I had upset somebody's dish, and "Emily did it" has +rung its hateful sound in my ears. To say I was unlucky was not enough; +I was untimely, unwarranted and unwanted, I often felt, in early years +in everything I attempted, and the naturally quick temper I possessed +was only aggravated and tortured into more harassing activity, rendering +me on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> whole, perhaps, not very amiable. Interesting I could not be, +since whatever I attempted I seemed fated to say or do something to hurt +somebody's feelings, and, mortified at my failures, I would draw myself +closer to myself, shrinking from others, and saying again and again, +"Emily, why <i>must</i> you do it?"</p> + +<p>Introducing myself thus clouded to your sympathy, I cannot expect my +reader would be interested in a rehearsal of all my early trials.</p> + +<p>You can imagine how it must have been as I marched along from childhood +through girlhood into womanhood, while I still clung to my strange ways +and peculiar sayings; upsetting of inkstands at school, mud tracking +over the carpet in the "best room" at home, unconscious betrayal of +mischief plans, etc., etc., made up the full catalogue of my days and +their experiences, and although I did have a few warm friends, I could +not be as other girls were, generally happy and beloved.</p> + +<p>Mother was the only real friend I had; it seemed to me, as I grew older, +she learned to know that I was too often blamed, where at heart I was +wholly blameless, and when sometimes she stroked my hair, and said, "My +dear child, how unlucky you are," I felt that I could do anything for +her, and she never, to my remembrance, said "Emily did it."</p> + +<p>From my father I often heard it. Hal rarely, if ever, said anything +else, and if I did sometimes darn his stockings a little too thick, it +was not such a heinous crime. He was handsome, and I was as proud of his +face as I was ashamed of my own; I know now that my features were not so +bad, but my spirit never shone through them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> while Hal carried every +thought right in his face. My face also might have looked attractive if +I had only been understood, but I blame no one for that, when I was +covered even as a "leopard with spots," indicating everything but the +blessed thoughts I sometimes had and the better part of my nature. The +interval of years between my fifth and sixteenth birthdays was too full +of recurring mishaps of every kind to leave within my memory distinct +traces of the little joys that sometimes crept in upon me. I number them +all when I recall the face of my more than blessed mother and the mild +eyes of Mary Snow, who was kinder and nearer to me than the others of my +school-mates.</p> + +<p>Hal grew daily more of a torment, and being five years my senior, +"bossed" me about to his satisfaction, except at such times as I grew +too vexed with him to restrain my anger, and turning upon him would pour +volleys of wrath upon his head. On these occasions he seemed really +afraid of me, and, for a time after, I would experience a little peace. +Learning from experience that keeping my thoughts to myself was the best +means of quiet, I grew, after leaving school, less inclined to associate +with anyone except sweet Mary Snow. One blessed consciousness grew daily +on me, and that was that I came nearer my mother's heart, and as I was +never lazy, I shared many of her joys and trials and learned to keep my +rebellious nature almost wholly in check. Father was a good man, but +unfortunate in business affairs, and the first time he undertook to +carry out an enterprise of his own, he pulled everything over on to his +head—just as I did the baby. This was of course a misfortune of which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +his wife had her share, but she never complained. The lines about her +eyes grew darker, and she ceased to sing at her work as before, and I +knew, for she told me, that in the years that followed, I grew so close +to her, I became a great help to her and really shared her burdens. My +little brother, Ben, varied Hal's "Emily did it," and with him "Emily +will do it" was a perfect maxim. Kites I made without number, and gave +my spare time to running through the meadows with him to help him fly +them and to the making of his little wheelbarrows, and I loved him +dearly. I seemed now to be less unlucky, and at home, at least, +contented, but society had no charms for me and I had none for society; +consequently we could happily agree to let each other alone, but, +without repining, I had still sometimes, oh! such longings—for +something, I knew not what.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD.</h3> + + +<p>The old adage of a poor beginning makes a good ending, may have been +true in my case; certain it is that my sorest mishaps, or those I had +least strength to bear, came between my fifth and sixteenth birthdays. +After this came the happy period in which I was helpmeet to my mother, +and the gaining of an almost complete victory over my temper, even when +teased by Hal, who at that time was developing rapidly into manhood and +was growing very handsome.</p> + +<p>I was not changed outwardly, unless my smile was more bright and +frequent, as became my feelings, and my eyes, I know, shot fewer dark +glances at those around me when mishaps, although less frequent, came +sometimes to me. My good angel was with me oftener then, I thought, and +as I often told mother, it seemed to me I had daily a two-fold growth, +meaning that there was the growing consciousness of a nature pulsating +as a life within my heart that seemed like a strong full tide constantly +bearing me up. I scarcely understood it then, but now I know I had, as +every one has, a dual nature, one side of which had never been allowed +to appear above its earthly covering.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>My daily trials, coming always from luckless mistakes of my own, were +equal in their effect to the killing of my blossoms, for if any dared to +show their heads an untimely word or deed would bring a reproach—if +only in the three words, "Emily did it"—and this reproach was like the +stamping of feet on violet buds, breaking, crushing and robbing them of +their sweet promise. The life then must go back into the roots and a +long time elapse ere they could again burst forth; so all my better +nature, with its higher thoughts longing to develop, was forced down and +back, and now, in the enjoyment of more favorable environment, I was +beginning to realize the fruitful life which daily grew upon me, and +with it came strength of mind and purpose and an imagery of thought that +filled my soul to a delicious fullness.</p> + +<p>What a power those conditions were to me! I drank joy in everything. My +mother's step was as music, and her teachings even in household affairs +a blessing to my spirit. I remember how one day in September I was +dishing soup for dinner, the thought—suppose that she dies—came +rushing over me like a cold wave, and I screamed aloud; dropping my +soup-dish and all, and frightening poor mother almost out of her senses.</p> + +<p>"Have you scalded yourself, dear?" she cried, running toward me, and I +was nearly faint as I replied:</p> + +<p>"Only a thought. I am so sorry about the soup, but it was a terrible +thought," and then I told her.</p> + +<p>No word of chiding came from her lips. I thought I saw tears in her eyes +as she said: "I should not like to leave you, dear. We are very happy +here together,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> and I know my eyes were moist as I thought, "Emily did +it," but her mother understands her.</p> + +<p>How necessary all those days of feeling, full and deep, combined with +the details of practical life were to me, and although I shall never +date pleasant memories back to my earlier years, still if I had been too +carefully handled and nursed I never could have enjoyed those days so +much.</p> + +<p>Nearly twenty-four months of uninterrupted work and enjoyment passed +over me—and here is a thought from that first experience in soul +growth; I cannot ever believe that people will enjoy themselves lazily +in heaven more than here; I have another, only a vague idea of how it +will be, but I cannot think of being idle there—when a little change +appeared, only to usher in what proved to be a greater one, and the days +of the June month in which the first came I shall never forget. It was +when Hal came to me, hemming and thinking under my favorite tree in the +old orchard, while beside me lay my scrap-book in which I from time to +time jotted thoughts as they came to me. Hal sat down beside me and said +at once:</p> + +<p>"I'm going to try it, Emily." I dropped hemming and thinking together, +and said:</p> + +<p>"Try what?"</p> + +<p>"Try my luck."</p> + +<p>I was only bewildered by his answer, and he continued:</p> + +<p>"Emily, I'm determined to carry out the desires of my life, and now I am +intent on a Western city as the place best calculated to inspire me with +the courage and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> strength I need to carry out my aims and purposes, and +I thought I'd tell you now that I feel decided, and you will tell mother +for me; will you?"</p> + +<p>Never before in my life had I felt Hal so near to me. His manner toward +me had changed, of course, as he grew into manhood, and "Emily, will you +sew on this button?" or "Emily, are my stockings ready?" were given in +place of "Emily did it," but now, as he looked full in my face, and even +passed his arm about me with true brotherly affection, he seemed so +near, that the hot tears chased each other down my cheeks, and I sat +speechless with the feelings that overcame me. I thought of the handsome +face—always handsome in whatever mood—opposite me at the table, of the +manly form and dignified carriage I had watched with pride, and when I +could speak, I said,</p> + +<p>"Hal I cannot let you go." Hal was brave, but I knew he felt what I +said, for his looks spoke volumes as he said,</p> + +<p>"Shall you miss me so much?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Hal," I cried, "we love you, mother and I, I never knew how much +till now." His head dropped a moment, and then he suddenly said,</p> + +<p>"You are the best sister a fellow ever had," and swallowing something +that rose in his throat, marched off through the fields directly away +from the house. I gathered up my work and scrap book, went in and +prepared the supper, showing outwardly no emotion, but with my heart +throbbing as if it would tell the secret on which I pondered, while I +wondered how I should tell my mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hal came in late to supper. I rushed from the table when I heard his +footsteps, and sought my room until I heard him coming up to his room, +when I went down stairs and busied myself with my work as usual.</p> + +<p>I washed the milk pans three or four times over that night, and was +about carrying them into the "best room," when mother said,</p> + +<p>"Why, Emily, we keep our milk pans in the buttery."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I said, turning suddenly and letting my pans fall and scatter. And +when I picked them up and collected my senses, I thought, "I cannot tell +mother to-night after all, Hal will stay with us." When things were at +last in their places, I sauntered out through the lane in the beautiful +moonlight, and coming back met Hal who took my hand in his and +whispered,</p> + +<p>"Tell mother to-morrow, please, I want to go away next month and some +things are necessary to be done."</p> + +<p>"Have you told father yet?"</p> + +<p>"No, but he will not care."</p> + +<p>"Father <i>will</i> care," I replied, "but you know since his misfortune, and +his conclusion that he cannot do anything but carry on the farm, he +seems to have lost his sprightly step and his cheery ways of old."</p> + +<p>"Well, Emily," said Hal, "I am no help to him on the farm, and could not +be if I tried, and the work I am doing now is anything but satisfying to +me."</p> + +<p>Then the thought occurred to me, I had no idea of what the boy desired +to accomplish, and the question what would you do Hal? was answered in +this wise—</p> + +<p>"Wait till I've been away six months."</p> + +<p>"To build mud houses and fill them with mud people,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> was your favorite +amusement when you were a boy, I remember," I said, and he gave me such +a queer look that I started with the impression that came with it, but +said no more, and we walked along and went into the house together.</p> + +<p>The next day after dinner, when we were cleared up and alone in quiet, I +told mother. She was of course covered with surprise, but her words came +in wisdom and she said:</p> + +<p>"I can imagine what Halbert desires to do, and although the way looks +anything but clear, still I know I can trust him anywhere. He is a +blessed son and brother, Emily, and I doubt not I am selfish to feel +saddened by the thought of his leaving home (and a tear drop fell as she +spoke). I only fear he may be sick. His lungs are not very strong."</p> + +<p>"What will father say?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Father's heart will miss him but he will not seek to stay an endeavor +of his earnest, ambitious boy."</p> + +<p>So my trial was not so hard as I had expected, and father was just as +wise as mother, and I alone rebellious concerning his departure. I cried +night and day whenever I could get a moment to cry in, and I could not +help it. How perverse I felt, although doing all I could to forward his +departure, which was daily coming nearer, and when the 4th of July came +and with it the gala day which the entire country about us enjoyed, I +could not and did not go to the pic-nic, or the speech ground, and I +succeeded in making all at home nearly as unhappy as myself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>CHANGES.</h3> + + +<p>Some people believe in predestination (or "fore-ordering," as Aunt Ruth +used to call it), and some do not. I never knew what I believed about +events and their happening, but it was certainly true I learned to know +that my efforts to hurry or retard anything were in one sense entirely +futile—that is, when I did not work in unison with my surroundings, and +made haste only when impelled. If I could have felt thus concerning +Hal's departure, I should have been of more service to him, and saved +myself from hearing "Oh, Emily, don't," falling as an entreaty from his +lips, at sight of my swelled eyes and woeful countenance. I think he was +heartily glad of the innovation made in our family circle, which, of +itself, was as wonderful to me as the story of Aladdin's Lamp to the +mind of a child. It happened so strangely too. Before I tell you of this +event I must explain that our family circle consisted of father, mother, +Halbert, Ben and myself. It was half past six in the evening of July 8, +18—, and we had just finished supper, when a loud knock was heard at +the back door, and opening it we received a letter from the hands of a +neighbor, who came over from the post-office and kindly brought our mail +with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> him. We received a good many letters for farming people, and I had +kept up a perfect fire of correspondence with Mary Snow ever since she +went to the home of her uncle, who lived some twenty miles distant, but +this appeared to be a double letter, and mother broke the seal, while we +all listened to her as she read it. It is not necessary to quote the +whole of it, but the gist of the matter was this: A distant cousin of +father's who had never seen any of us, nor any member of the family to +which her mother and my father belonged, had settled in the city of +----, about thirty miles from our little village. Her husband dying +shortly afterward, she was left a widow with one child, a son. In some +unaccountable way she had heard of father, and she now wrote telling us +that she proposed to come to see us the very next day, only two days +before Hal was to leave us. She went on to say that she hoped her visit +would not be an intrusion, but she wanted to see us, and if we could +only accommodate her during the summer she would be so glad to stay, and +would be willing to remunerate us doubly. Mother said simply, "Well, she +must come." Father looked at her and said nothing, while I flew at the +supper dishes attacking them so ferociously that I should have broken +them all, I guess, had not mother said gently,</p> + +<p>"Let me wash them, Emily, your hands tremble so." Then I tried to +exorcise the demon within, and I said:</p> + +<p>"How can we have a stranger here, putting on airs, and Hal going away, +and our home probably too homely for her. I know she never washed her +hands in a blue wash-bowl in the world, much less in a pewter basin such +as we use. She'll want everything we haven't got, and I shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> tip +everything over, and be as awkward as—oh, dear! Mother, how I do wish I +could be ground over and put in good shape before to-morrow night." I +never saw my mother laugh so heartily in my life; she laughed till I was +fairly frightened and thought she had a hysteric fit, and when she could +speak, said:</p> + +<p>"Emily, don't borrow trouble, it may make Hal's departure easier for us. +It must be right for her to come, else it would not have happened. You +are growing so like a careful woman, I doubt not you will be the very +one to please her."</p> + +<p>Those words were a sort of strengthening cordial, and before I went to +sleep I had firmly determined to receive my cousin as I would one of my +neighbors, and not allow my spirit to chafe itself against the wall of +conditions, whatever they might be.</p> + +<p>So when the stage came over the hill, and round the turn in the road +leading to our house, I stood quietly with mother in the doorway waiting +to give the strange guest welcome in our midst. I was the first to take +her hand, for the blundering stage-driver nearly let her fall to the +ground, her foot missing the step as she clambered over the side of the +old stage. She gave me such a warm smile of recognition, and a moment +after turned to us all and said, "My name is Clara Estelle Desmonde, +call me Clara,"—and with hearty hand-shaking passed into the house as +one of us. Her hat and traveling mantle laid aside, she was soon seated +at the table with us, and chatting merrily, praising every dish before +her, and since her appetite did justice to her words, we did not feel +her praise as flattery. I had made some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> of my snow cake, and it was the +best, I think, I ever made. Mother had cream biscuit, blackberry jelly, +some cold fowl, and, to tempt the appetite of our city visitor, a few of +the old speckled hen's finest and freshest eggs, dropped on toast. She +did not slight any of our cooking, and my cake was particularly praised. +When mother told her I made it, the little lady looked at me so brightly +as she said, "You must keep plenty of it on hand as long as I stay, I am +especially fond of cake and pie," and although I well knew her dainty +fingers had never been immersed in pie-crust, still she had made herself +acquainted with the <i>modus operandi</i> of various culinary productions and +talked as easily with us about them as if she were a real cook. She +seemed from the first to take a great liking to Hal, and, seated in our +family circle, this first night of our acquaintance, expressed great +regret at his early departure, and remarked several times during the +evening, that it would have been so nice if Halbert and her son Louis +Robert could have been companions here in "Cosy Nook," as she called our +house. It seemed anything but a nook to me, situated as it was on high +ground, while about us on either side, lay the seventy-five acres which +was my father's inheritance, when he attained his majority; but, to her, +this living aside from the dusty streets and exciting novelties of the +city, was, I suppose, like being deposited in a little quiet nook. When +we said "good night," all of us were of one mind regarding our new-found +friend. I was perfectly at ease that first evening, and felt no +inclination to make an unlucky speech until the next day, which was +Sunday, came, and with it the question, "Are you going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> church?" It +was always our custom to go to the village church each Sabbath, and I +enjoyed the sermons of Mr. Davis, then our minister, very much. He was a +man of broad soul and genial spirit, and very generally liked. His +sermons were never a re-hash but were quickened and brightened by new +ideas originally expressed. Now, however, when this little lady asked, +"Are you going to church?" I did not think at all of a good sermon, but +of the shabbiness of my best bonnet, and I bit my tongue to check the +speech which rose to my lips—"We generally go, but I'd rather not go +with you"—while mother answered,</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Desmonde" ("Clara, if you please," the lady interposed), "we +always go; would you like to go with us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, thank you, it is a delightful day."</p> + +<p>I kept thinking about those shabby ribbons and wondering if I could not +cover them up with my brown veil, and after breakfast was over, I +actually did re-make an old lemon-colored bow to adorn myself with. I +felt shabby enough, however, when we were all ready to start and my poor +cotton gloves came in contact with the delicate kids of our guest, when +she grasped my hand to say, "You cannot know, Emily dear, how happy I +am."</p> + +<p>Somehow she made me forget all about how I looked, but the sermon that +day was all lost. My eyes divided their light between herself and +Halbert, and my heart kept thumping heavily, "Hal goes away to-morrow." +I think Hal knew my thoughts, for he sat next to me in our pew, and once +when tears were in my eyes, tears which came with thoughts of his +departure, he took my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> hand in his and held it firmly, as if to say, "I +shall come back, Emily, don't feel badly." I looked him the grateful +recognition my heart felt, and I crowded back the tears that were ready +to fall, and when we drove home, our little lady chatting all the way, I +was happier than before I went.</p> + +<p>Monday morning came and with it Hal's departure. We were up betimes. I +think Hal slept little, and I heard the old clock strike nearly every +hour, and was down stairs before either mother or father were up. He was +to take the stage at half-past eight, and ride to the nearest station, +and our breakfast was ready at half-past six. It was a sad breakfast, +and though mother tried hard to keep up a conversation on different +topics, it was useless. Tears would fill our eyes, and brother Ben, +though at that time only about thirteen, was forced to leave his +breakfast untasted, and, rising hastily, to take himself out of Hal's +sight; but the stage came rumbling down the road, and almost ere we knew +it, our good-byes were said, and Hal was waving his handkerchief from +his high seat beside the driver, from whence he could see the old home +for a long distance.</p> + +<p>Everything, so far as his plans were concerned, worked favorably, and a +chance inquiry, resulted in a good offer as book-keeping clerk in a +wholesale warehouse in Chicago. Chicago was in her youth then. Many +changes have passed over the city of the West since those days, but her +mercantile houses were never in a more flourishing condition than during +Hal's stay there. Father had informed himself regarding the man with +whom he was to be connected, and was well satisfied of his integrity, +ability, etc.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Hal was fairly gone I went to my room and cried disconsolately, and +groaned aloud, and did everything but faint, and I might have +accomplished that feat if Clara (for she insisted on that appellation) +had not come in upon me, resolved to bring about different conditions. +She succeeded at last, and the afternoon found us quietly sitting +together in our middle room apparently enjoying ourselves, though I did +not forget Hal was gone, and a cloud of woe overspread my mental +horizon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>OUR NEW FRIEND.</h3> + + +<p>We could not object to the stay of our cousin, and she planned to remain +indefinitely. I always smiled at the relationship, and I don't know +exactly how near it was, but this I believe was it—father's mother and +Mrs. Desmonde's grandmother were cousins; that brought me, you see, into +very near kinship. She laughed at it herself, but, nevertheless, I was +"her dear cousin Emily" always. "Little Lady" was my name for her, but +she forced me call her "Clara." Her mother, it seemed, had married a +gentleman of rank and fortune of French descent, and although she told +me she was the picture of her mother, the graceful ways of which she was +possessed, her natural urbanity and politeness, together with her +fascinating word-emphasis accompanied with so many gestures, were all +decidedly French, "Little lady" just expressed it. She was, when she +came to our home, only thirty-seven years of age, and looked not more +than twenty. Her complexion was that of a perfect blonde; her hair was +light and wavy, clear to the parting; she had a luxuriant mass of it, +and coiled it about her shapely head, fastening it with a beautifully +carved shell comb. Her eyes were very dark for blue,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> large and +expressive; she had teeth like pearls, and a mouth, whose tender +outlines were a study for a painter. She seemed to me a living, +breathing picture, and I almost coveted the grace which was so natural +to her, and hated the contrast presented by our two faces. She called my +complexion pure olive, and toyed with "my night-black hair" (her own +expression), sometimes winding it about her fingers as if to coax it to +curl, and then again braiding it wide with many strands, and doing it up +in a fashion unusual with me. She was a little below the medium size, I, +a little above, and though only turned nineteen, I know I looked much +older than she. We were fast friends, and I could do her bidding ever +and always, for her word was a friendly law, and I am sure no family +ever had so charming a boarder. She bought gingham, and made dresses +exactly alike for herself and me, made some long house-aprons, as she +called them, and would never consent to sit down by herself but helped +about the house daily until all the work was done, then changed her +dress when I changed mine, and kept herself close, to us, body and +soul—for she seemed in one sense our ward, in another our help, making +her doubly dear, and I many times blessed the providence that brought +her to us just as we were losing Hal. She was sensitive, but never +morbidly so, apparently anxious to have every one about her happy, and I +never saw the airs that I expected her to assume, for she was ever +smiling and happy in her manner.</p> + +<p>As the days passed over us, we took long walks in the woods together, +and she unfolded to me leaf by leaf of her life history.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>The deep love she had borne her husband remained unchanged—and nightly, +with perfect devotion, she looked upon and pressed to her lips his +miniature, which was fastened to a massive chain hanging on her neck; +never in sight, but hidden from other eyes, as if too sacred for their +gaze. Her husband was of French parentage, but had, when at the early +age of sixteen she married him, been alone in this country. He was +twenty years older than herself, and her parents passing away soon after +her marriage, he had been husband, mother and father. Her son, Louis +Robert, eighteen years of age, was named for him, and both she and her +son had fortunes in their own right. It seemed that Mr. Desmonde had an +illness lasting for months, and knowing it must prove fatal, had +arranged every thing perfectly for his departure. It was his wish that +Louis Robert should, if agreeable to his mind, pursue a course of study, +to prepare him for professional work of some kind.</p> + +<p>In a letter written on his death-bed he impressed upon his son the +necessity of dealing honestly with his fellow-men, and exhorted him to +endeavor to be always ready, as opportunities presented themselves for +small charities and kindnesses; these, as his father thought, are often +more praiseworthy than donations to public objects, and the giving of +alms to be seen of men, as many wealthy people do.</p> + +<p>In accordance with these last wishes, Louis was placed under the care of +a worthy man, who was principal of a seminary a little distance from the +city where their home was. Clara desired him to come to us about the +twentieth of August and stay two weeks, and also urged me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> to go to her +home with her and meet him, then returning together.</p> + +<p>I hardly wanted to do so, but her sweet urgency persuaded me, and I +consented, reflecting mournfully over those shabby ribbons and that +lemon-colored bow. If there is anything like help in the world that I +receive most gratefully, it is the prompt recognition of a need, and +unobtrusive aid for it. A short time before the day appointed for us to +go to the city, our Clara came down stairs dressed in a beautiful dark +shade of blue Foulard silk, with a lace ruff about her throat, fastened +with a lemon-colored bow.</p> + +<p>The blood rushed with a full tide to my face when my eyes fell upon her +as she entered. Simple, I presume, to those accustomed to elegant +costume would her attire have seemed, but to me, as yet uninitiated in +the mysteries of society, dress, etc., she was the perfection of +loveliness, and the impression made upon me was an indelible one; I +never saw anything half so lovely and perfect as she at that moment +appeared to me.</p> + +<p>It was an unusual thing too for her to be dressed so nicely for an +afternoon at home. She had, I knew, many beautiful dresses, and had told +me sometimes of the elaborate toilets of the city, but had heretofore +donned as an afternoon dress the gray mohair she wore when she came, and +a light blue scarf over her shoulders was the only color she wore about +her. The weather was warm but the heat was never oppressive to her—her +blood, she said, had never felt as it were really warm since the night +her husband died. On this particular afternoon, we were talking +principally of Hal, and my eyes unconsciously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> riveted their gaze on the +folds of her dress hanging so gracefully about her, and trailing softly +on the carpet if moved.</p> + +<p>I wondered too a little at it, for I noticed it to be quite long in +front as well as behind. The afternoon was far spent, and it was nearly +time for Ben and father to come in to supper. Before she made any +allusion to her extra toilette, extra for our little home, and nodding +at me as I raised my eyes from the soft blue folds to meet the light of +the blue eyes above them, she said:</p> + +<p>"How does my dress please Mademoiselle Emily?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I replied, "I never saw so beautiful a dress." She smiled one of +her bright quick smiles as if some fancy struck her, and said, laying +her hand over the bow at her heart,</p> + +<p>"And this too?"</p> + +<p>"Both are beautiful in my eyes," I said, "and so suited to you Clara."</p> + +<p>After supper we were going to take a walk, and Clara went to her room, +doffed the blue Foulard and came down in the grey mohair. We had a +beautiful walk out from under the shade of the o'erarching chestnut +trees before our door, along the grassy highway leading to the upper +meadow, over the smooth newly-cut field on to the edge of the birch +woods beyond. There we rested quiet, coming back when the moon rose over +the hills and the stars hung out like lanterns on our track.</p> + +<p>We talked. Clara had her seasons of soul-talk as she called it, and that +night she read me a full page of her inner self the purport of which I +shall never forget. The more she revealed to me of herself the more I +loved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> her, and her words suggested thoughts that filled my +soul—thoughts which, in depths within myself I had never dreamed of, +found and swept a string that ere long broke its sweet harmonies on my +spirit. I seemed, all at once, to develop in spiritual stature and to +have become complex to myself.</p> + +<p>When we said "good night" to the folks below and went up stairs +together, Clara caught my hand and said,</p> + +<p>"Come, mademoiselle, come to my room, please," and of course I went, +making a mock courtesy as if I were a queen, and she my maid. She +unpinned my linen collar and unhooked my dress, while I sat wonder +struck, saying nothing until I felt the fleecy blue silk being thrown +over my shoulders, when I essayed to articulate something. But when my +head emerged from the dress, she playfully covered my mouth with her +hand, and proceeded to fasten the dress which seemed just to fit; then +came the delicate lace and the lemon bow. Taking my hand she led me to +the glass, surveyed me from head to foot, clapped her hands like a glad +child, and cried,</p> + +<p>"A perfect fit, but I was afraid."</p> + +<p>"Why, Clara," I said, "how, what?"</p> + +<p>"Never, never mind, you like it, I did it myself, and I wore it first +only to see how it struck you. 'Tis yours, my dear, go and put it away."</p> + +<p>I did not say thank you even, for she would not let me. I just kissed +her and went to my room, to my little room with its high-post bedstead, +three wooden chairs and shabby hair-cloth trunk, and dressed in that +beautiful blue dress with that new silk bow. I could not help taking the +old one out of the drawer to contrast it with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> new, and although it +did look soiled and shabby, I thought I was almost wicked to have felt +so troubled at my little adornments, and then resolved to keep that +little old faded lemon ribbon as long as I should live, and I have it +now.</p> + +<p>Carefully I unpinned that new bow, laying it, with the first real lace +collars I had ever owned, in a mahogany box, as tenderly as though they +were pearls, and hung the blue Foulard in my closet between my best +much-worn alpaca and my afternoon gingham.</p> + +<p>That night I dreamed that when father went to feed the chickens in the +barn yard, a beautiful bird with silky wings of blue fluttered down +among them to be fed. How impressible my artless brain! As great an +event was this to me, as the inauguration of our highest potentate to +the people.</p> + +<p>Next morning I opened the closet door before dressing, and looked at the +new dress. The more I thought about it the more I wondered when or where +I should ever wear it, and not until a traveling suit, the fac-simile of +Clara's, was dropped upon me did I realize how the blue Foulard was +fitted to my shoulders. In her own sweet way she told me, that though we +were to remain only a few days at her home in the city, yet her friends +would surely call, and I must take the Foulard to wear in the +afternoons. Dear little soul, how tender she was of everybody's +feelings, and with what true womanly tact she turned, as far as +possible, every one into a pleasant path! Quick to notice needs, she +always applied her gifts with the greatest grace and tact, and without +making any one feel under obligation to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>The morning of August thirteenth dawned upon us not altogether smiling, +since the sky looked as if inclined to weep. We started, however, on our +intended journey, and more than once the old stage-driver looked around +to catch a glimpse of my darling friend, who was quite a wonderment to +the country folk. Inaccurate rumors of Clara and her fortune had been +talked about among them—yet none knew just how it all was, except our +family, and we would betray no secrets that she wished kept. I hardly +recognized myself when at last we arrived at our journey's end, and I +was in Clara's home. Never before had I seen myself reflected in a long +pier-glass, and never on earth did I seem so homely; my hands were too +large and awkward, and I sat so uncomfortably on the luxurious chairs.</p> + +<p>Clara noticed my discomfort and kept me changing from one position to +another, until I was so vexed with myself I insisted on sitting in a +corner and persuaded Clara that my head ached. The compassionate soul +believed it and was bathing my temples, when a light step aroused us +both, and a moment later she was in the arms of her beloved son, whom +she proudly introduced to me.</p> + +<p>I was surprised at his appearance—I thought him a boy, and so he was in +years, but if Clara had not told me his age, I should have guessed him +to be twenty-five. He had large dark eyes, a glorious head, perfect in +its shape, an intellectual forehead, and the most finely chiselled +mouth, most expressive of all his feelings; his lips parted in such +loving admiration of his mother and closed so lovingly upon her own. +After a profound bow to myself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> and a hearty grasp of the hand, he drew +her to the crimson cushions of a tête-à-tête standing near, and passing +his arm around her held her closely to him, as if afraid he would lose +her. I envied her, and any heart might well envy the passionate devotion +of a son like Louis Robert Desmonde.</p> + +<p>I wanted to leave them to themselves, but as I could not do this, I +covered my head, which really ached now, with my hands, and tried hard +not to listen to their audible conversation, but from that time I +appreciated what was meant by the manly love of this son, differing so +widely from anything I had ever before known. Like his mother, he had +great tact, and suited himself exactly to conditions and persons.</p> + +<p>I moved as in a dream. Everything that wealth could lavish on a home was +here. I occupied Clara's own room with her, and it seemed at night as if +I lay in a fairy chamber; there were silken draperies of delicate blue, +a soft velvety carpet whose ground was the same beautiful blue, covered +with vines like veins traced through it, and massive furniture with +antique carving, and everything in such exquisite taste, even to the +decorated toilette set on the bureau. Everything I thought was in +perfect correspondence except the face on my lace-fringed pillow. I +seemed so sadly out of place. I wondered if Clara was really contented +with her humbly-furnished room at our house. Callers came as she had +predicted, and it was all in vain my trying to keep out of the sight of +those "<i>city people</i>." Insisting on my presence, and knowing well I +should escape to our room if left by myself, Louis was authorized to +guard me, and I had no chance of escape;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> I felt myself an intruder upon +his time, every moment until during the last evenings of my stay, when +in the lighted parlors quite a happy company gathered. I then had an +opportunity of seeing a little of his thought, running as an +undercurrent to his nature. Clara had been singing with such sweetness +of expression and pathetic emphasis, that my eyes were filled with tears +of emotion. Miss Lear, a young lady friend, followed her, and sang with +such a shrill voice, such unprecedented flying about among the octaves, +that it shocked me through every nerve, and I trembled visibly and +uttered an involuntary exclamation of impatience. Louis caught my hand, +and the moment she ended, whispered:</p> + +<p>"Are you frightened?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I said, "she is your guest, but where is her soul?"</p> + +<p>"In heaven awaiting her, I suspect," he replied, "but, Miss Emily, she +is a fair type of a society woman. I have just been thinking that +to-morrow at sunset I hope to be among the birds and beneath the sky of +your native town; one can breathe there; I am glad to go."</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to go," I said, impetuously (poor Emily did it).</p> + +<p>He turned his full dark eyes upon me, and I felt the tide that flooded +cheek and brow with crimson.</p> + +<p>"Explain to me, Miss Emily," he said, "you love to keep my mother +there."</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to say it, Louis, but it is true."</p> + +<p>"Why true?"</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry—"</p> + +<p>My dilemma was a queer one; I had to explain, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> the tears that +gathered when his mother sang, came back as I described our plain home.</p> + +<p>"I love my home, it is good enough for me, I could not exchange it even +with you, but you will think us rude, uncultivated people, I fear; you +will find no attraction there; everything is as homely there as I am +myself!"</p> + +<p>And I never can forget how his bright, dark eyes grew humid with +sympathy, to be covered with the sunlight of his smile at the earnest +honesty of my remarks, especially the last one.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Miss Emily, you know not your friend; I am more anxious than ever +to go, and care not if you are sorry."</p> + +<p>"I am glad now of my unexpected speech," I replied, "and feel as if I +had really been to the confessional; your mother is so sensitive, I +could not tell her, and I have kept this thought constantly before me, +'He will not stay if he goes, and I am sure he cannot eat rye bread and +butter.'"</p> + +<p>"You will see, Miss Emily, how I shall eat it, but we are to be +interrupted; here comes the soulless girl that shocked you so; mother is +with her; excuse me for a moment," and he made his way to a corner of +the parlors, seating himself alone as if in reverie.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Emily, my friend, Miss Lear, desires an introduction to +you; be seated, Miss Lear," and Clara took the chair on the other side; +the disappointment of Miss Lear, in not finding Louis, was visible, even +to my unpractised eye, and her tender enquiries of his mother regarding +his health etc., were amusing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>I saw her furtive glances at my plain toilette, and knew she thought me +a lowly wild flower on life's great meadow, a dandelion, unnecessary to +be included in a fashionable nosegay, and while these thoughts were +passing through my mind, Clara left us to ourselves, and, feeling in +duty bound to say something to me, she began:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Desmonde tells me your house is in the country; how sublime the +country is! You see sunrises and sunsets, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"I hope I do," I replied. "There is great pleasure in watching nature."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the country is so sublime, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Well that depends on your ideas of the sublime; I do not imagine +milking cows and butter-making would correspond with the general ideas +of sublimity."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" and she tossed her befrizzled head in lofty disdain, "that is +perfectly horrid, I cannot see how human beings endure such things; oh! +dear, what a poor hand I should be at living under such circumstances."</p> + +<p>"You would perhaps enjoy the general housework more, leaving the problem +of the dairy to another."</p> + +<p>"Housework?—I—ah! I see you are unlearned—beg your pardon—in society +ways. Do my hands betray symptoms of housework?" and she laughed +ironically.</p> + +<p>At this moment Louis came to take the seat his mother had left, and +heard of course my reply to Miss Lear's last remark.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know I am verdant in the extreme, and must plead guilty also to +the charge of milking, churning and housework; I take, however, some +pride in trying to do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> all these things well, and I believe the most +fastidious can partake of the creamy butter rolls, we make at home."</p> + +<p>"Bravo," exclaimed Louis, "pray tell me what elicited Miss Emily's +speech?"</p> + +<p>"We were talking of the country," I replied, growing bold; "Miss Lear +thinks the country is sublime, but the butter-making, etc., horrid."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Miss Lear, "it may be my ideas are rather crude, but really +I cannot imagine I could ever make butter! Do you think I could, Mr. +Desmonde?" leaning forward to catch Louis' eye, and plying her flashy +fan with renewed energy and great care to show the ring of emeralds and +diamonds that glistened on her right fore-finger.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say, Miss Lear, I am going up to find out the ways and expect +to be Miss Emily's assistant. I imagine it takes brain to do farm work."</p> + +<p>Miss Lear waited to rally a little and said only, "Complimentary in the +extreme! Pray tell me the hour, I think my carriage must be here;" then +the fashion-plate shook hands with us both and departed.</p> + +<p>I felt almost ashamed, and repeated verbatim to Louis our conversation; +he laughed, and, patting my shoulder, said:</p> + +<p>"You spoke quite rightly, she was impertinent, pardon her ignorant +vanity."</p> + +<p>Then I stood with Louis and Clara in the centre of the parlors and +received the adieux of their friends. Louis carried his mother in his +arms up stairs and soon dreams carried me home to green fields and +butter-making.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>LOUIS ROBERT.</h3> + + +<p>Gloriously beautiful was the morning of August twenty-first. We were up +early, for the old stage would not wait for us, and we had much to do +just at the last moment. I say we, for I tried to do all that was +possible to assist Clara in packing the two large trunks we were to +take. One thing puzzled me. I had heard Clara say so many times to +Louis, who went over the house with her during the early part of each +day, "Now leave everything in shape to be taken at any moment." And this +last morning all the chairs were covered, and Louis worked with old Jim, +time-honored help, to accomplish it all. I had a secret fear that they +were planning to go away to seek another home somewhere, and it troubled +me. I wondered the more because Clara said nothing to me, and she was +naturally so ingenuous and apt to tell me her little plans freely. It +seemed to take less time than it takes to write it ere we were landed at +the door of my home, and found father and mother waiting to welcome us. +There was a look of surprise on the faces of my parents as Louis +descended from the stage and turned so gallantly to his little mother, +as he often called her. He was not the boy they expected to see,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> but a +man to all appearance, tall and handsome, and the embodiment of a +politeness which is founded, as I believe, on a true respect for the +opinions and conditions of others. I felt gladly proud of our supper +table that night, and I knew Louis looked in vain for rye bread. He did +ample justice to our creamy butter, however, and after supper remarked +to me that Miss Lear might like a few pounds of such.</p> + +<p>Days passed happily along, and the two weeks allotted for Louis' stay +came nearly to a close. I dreaded to have the last day appear. Like his +mother, he had dropped into his own appropriate niche, and came into our +family only as another ray of the sunshine that brightened our home. I +had Halbert in my mind much of the time, and talked of him to Louis +until he said he felt well acquainted with him, and looked forward to +meeting him as one looks to some happiness in store.</p> + +<p>Louis was original in his expressions and different from all others of +his age. One evening when we were talking of Hal, as we sat on the old +doorstone in the moonlight, he said:</p> + +<p>"I have something to do for your brother, Miss Emily, I cannot tell you +how, but we shall see, we shall never lose sight of each other, we are +always to be friends, Miss Emily."</p> + +<p>And the light of his dark eyes grew deep and it seemed as if I looked +into fathomless depths as he turned them full upon me for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Only a few hours between this long breath I am taking and the school to +which I go (mother has written the professor, asking if I can stay +longer—we shall have an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> answer to-morrow). It is doing me good, my +mind goes over the country round us here, and I am gathering long +breaths that give my mind and body strength. Ah! Miss Emily," he said, +as he rose and walked to and fro, "I shall sometime breathe and act as I +want to. I pray every day that my little mother may live to see me doing +what I desire to do, and, also, for strength. I need great strength, +Miss Emily. You will help to keep little mother alive, I know you will."</p> + +<p>And he came back, took both my hands in his own; I felt almost afraid—I +cannot tell you how powerfully expressive his look, voice and gestures +were, and he continued:</p> + +<p>"I like you—like you more than you know; you are true, you can be +depended on; you call my little mother your fairy cousin, and I call you +her royal friend. Do me a favor," he continued, "unbind your massive +hair and let it trail over your shoulders." And before I realised it my +hair swept the doorstone where I sat. "There," as he brushed it back +from my face, "look up and you are a picture; wear your long hair +floating—why not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis," I said, "how could I ever work with such a heavy mass about +me. If, as you say, I look like a picture, I certainly ought not to, for +I am only a country dandelion even as a picture," and I laughed. He +looked at me almost fiercely, as he said:</p> + +<p>"Miss Emily, never say it again; you are full of poetry; you have +glorious thoughts; you dream while at work; some day you will know +yourself;" and then there came the far-away look in his eyes. Clara came +to sit with us, and the evening wore itself into night's deep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> shading, +and the early hour for rest came to us all. The professor was amiable +and willing to accord two weeks more of freedom to Louis, who seemed to +enjoy more every day; and when he entered upon his fourth week, said:</p> + +<p>"He wished that week might hold a hundred days."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that since Clara came to us she had been the constant +cause of surprise either in one way or another. In herself, as an +individual, she was to me a problem of no little consequence and not +easily solved, and she was continually bringing forth something +unexpected.</p> + +<p>The last of the third week of Louis' stay was made memorable by one of +her demonstrations. It was Wednesday evening, the last of our ironing +was finished, and mother and I were folding the clothes as we took them +down from the old-fashioned horse, when we heard her sweet voice +claiming us for special consultation.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Minot," she called, and we left our clothes and went into the +square room, as we called it. Father and Louis were there, and when we +were seated she began:</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear friends, I propose to ask a favor of you. I love you three +people, and you have made me so happy here I do desire to call this spot +home for always. It seems to me I cannot feel so happy in another place, +and now you know I have many belongings in my old home in the city. I +know a lady who has met with misfortune, an old friend of my husband's +family, who is worthy, and forced at present by circumstances to earn +her living. Now may I ask you, my dear friends, to let me bring my +furniture here. Will you give me more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> room, that I may establish myself +just quite enough to make it pleasant, and then I can let my friend have +my house (upon condition of her retaining my old help, which I shall not +permit to be a trouble to her financially), and through your favor I may +help another. I should have asked it long ago, but I waited for my boy +to come and taste the air of your home here, and since he loves you as +well as I do, may we stay?"</p> + +<p>And she held her little white hands toward us, and opened her blue eyes +wide.</p> + +<p>Of course we all gladly consented.</p> + +<p>Then she clapped her hands, and turning to Louis, said:</p> + +<p>"Louis Robert, thank them."</p> + +<p>And he bowed and said in his own expressive way:</p> + +<p>"We will try to appreciate your kindness."</p> + +<p>I knew then what the covered chairs meant, but I secretly wondered "How +on airth," as Aunt Hildy used to say, all those moveables were to be got +into our house. This thought was running through my head when Clara +spoke, crossing the room as she did so, and taking my father's hand—and +he was such a reserved man that no one else would ever have dreamed of +doing so.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Minot, I have not finished yet. Would you grant me one thing more? +May I have a little bit of your ground on the west side of your house, +say a piece not more than eighteen by twenty-five feet, with which to do +just as I please?"</p> + +<p>Father looked thunderstruck, as he answered:</p> + +<p>"What can you do with it, Clara?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind; may I?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said in a dreamy way.</p> + +<p>And mother looked up, to be met by the eyes which sought her own, while +the sweet lips queried:</p> + +<p>"Will you say so too if you like my plans?"</p> + +<p>"I'll try to do what is best for us all"—and that meant volumes, for my +mother was thoroughly good, and as strong in what she deemed to be right +as mortal could be, and she never wavered a moment, where right was +considered. Unfaltering and true, her word was a law, and Clara at her +quiet answer felt the victory won. Now for the sequel, thought I, and +then Louis asked me to take a stroll in the moonlight, and although a +little curious at the revelation awaiting us, I could not deny him and +went for my hat and shawl. What a lovely night it was, and how the stars +stealing one by one into the sky seemed like breathing entities looking +down upon us. It seemed that night as if they heard what Louis said, and +you would not wonder had you seen the youthful fervor of this dark-eyed +youth; this strange combination of man and boy. When with him I felt +awed into silence, and though his thoughts always brought response from +my soul, yet did I hesitate for expression, language failing me utterly. +How many beautiful thoughts he uttered this night, and how strangely I +answered him! He was young and had not learned the lesson of waiting, if +effort of his own could hasten the development of any loved scheme. I +cannot, will not try to tell you all that he said, but he spoke so +positively, and commanded as it were an answer from my very soul. He +told me of his love for painting, of his great desire to do something +worthy of the best, as he expressed it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And my first picture is to be yourself," he said; "you shall speak on +canvas. You think yourself so plain; oh! you are not plain, Miss Emily; +I love you, and you are my wild flower, are you not? Speak to me, call +me your Louis! Love me, as I do you. Ah! if you did not love me I could +not stay here till to-morrow—you think me young and presumptuous—you +say I do not know myself and I will change—I will not change—I am not +young—I want great love, such as comes to me through your eyes, to help +me—and you love me—you are my precious wild flower—I shall live for +you and my little mother."</p> + +<p>No word had escaped my lips, and now he paused, and looking at me, said:</p> + +<p>"Tell me if you do not love me!—tell me, Emily."</p> + +<p>Why did I—how could I answer him as I did—so cold; my voice fell upon +my own ear as I said slowly:</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Louis—you are so strange."</p> + +<p>What an answer! He quivered and the tears came to his eyes; he dashed +them aside and said:</p> + +<p>"How long shall I wait for you? say it now and help me; your spirit +loves me; I can hear it speak to me."</p> + +<p>I thought for the moment he was crazed. He divined my thought and said:</p> + +<p>"No, not crazy, but I want your help."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I don't know, I am so ignorant—why was I born +so? don't treat me unkindly, you are dear to me, dear, but I can't +talk."</p> + +<p>"Never, never say so again."</p> + +<p>He seemed taller as he paused in his walk, and released the firm hold he +had kept of my arm, said slowly:</p> + +<p>"God waits for man, and angels wait, and I will wait,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> and you will tell +me sometime—say no word to my little mother"—and he kissed my +forehead, a tear-drop falling on me from his eyes, and we walked +silently and slowly home.</p> + +<p>I sought my room, and crying bitterly, said to myself, "Emily Minot must +you always do the very thing you desire not to do?"</p> + +<p>When my eye met Louis' at the table next morning, I felt as if I had +committed an unpardonable sin. My whole being had trembled with the deep +respect and admiration I had felt for him since the moment we met, and I +certainly had given him cause to understand me to be incapable of +responding to his innermost thought. I felt he would treat me +differently, but a second look convinced me that such was not the fact. +His noble nature could not illtreat any one, and I only saw a look of +positive endurance, "I am waiting," photographed on his features, and +made manifest in all his manner toward me, and a determined effort to +put me at ease resulted at last in forcing me to appear as before, while +all the time a sharp pain gnawed at my heart, and, unlike most girls, I +was not easy until I told my mother of it all.</p> + +<p>She stroked my dark hair and said:</p> + +<p>"You and he have only seen nineteen short years. Wisdom is the ripened +fruit of years; you cannot judge of your future from to-day."</p> + +<p>That comforted me, and I felt better in my mind. I planned something to +say to Louis, but every opportunity was lost, and the last week of his +stay had already begun. The plans of his little mother had been confided +to me, and work had commenced.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was to be an addition of four large rooms on the west side of our +house, and they were planned in accordance with Clara's ideas. She did +not call them her's, and started with the understanding that the +improvements were just a little present for her dear cousins. Best of +all, we were to have a bow window in one of the rooms, and this was +something so new, so different, it seemed a greater thing to me than the +architecture of the ancient cathedrals. A bow window, and the panes of +glass double, yes, treble the size of the old ones!</p> + +<p>I heard father say to mother that this new part would make the old one +look very shabby; but Louis had told me his mother intended to do all +father would allow her to, and encourage him a little, etc. And we were +to have a new fence. You cannot imagine how fairy-like this all seemed +to me, and I could hardly believe what I saw. It seemed as if we were in +a wonderland country, and I had moved as in a dream up to the last hour +of my walk with Louis. Then I seemed to awake, as if shaken by a rough +hand, and since then I had been striving to appear what I was not, all +the time thinking that Louis misunderstood me, and here we were in the +last week of his stay and no word as yet in explanation. I had thought +it over until it became a truth to me that after all he had not meant +that he loved me other than as a sister, and it also seemed to me that +was just what I needed. What remained was to have it settled between us, +and to do that I must clothe my thoughts with words, else how could he +know how I felt. It seemed, too, that it was sheer boldness on my part +to dream for a moment that Louis spoke of life's crowning love. He meant +to be as a brother to me, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> again I sighed, as I stood at the ironing +table, "Ah, Emily Minot, you are a born mistake, that's just what you +are!" and as I sighed I spoke these words, and, turning, found myself +face to face with Louis, who had just come from the village. He never +could wait for the stage to come, and had been over as usual for +letters.</p> + +<p>"The only mistake is that you don't know yourself," he said.</p> + +<p>And the tears that had welled up to my eyes fell so fast, and I was so +choked, that I turned from work, thinking to escape into mother's +bedroom and hide myself; but my eye caught sight of a letter in his hand +unopened, and love for Hal rose above all my foolish tears, and so I +stood quietly waiting the denouement.</p> + +<p>"Come into the other room with me, Emily; I have something to tell you."</p> + +<p>He sat down on the little chintz-covered lounge, and I beside him.</p> + +<p>"Emily, you are a strong woman, your heart will beat fast, but you will +neither scream nor faint when I tell you; your brother is ill. There was +a letter in the office and also a telegram at the depot. What will be +done, who can go to him?"</p> + +<p>I did not scream or faint as he had said, but I clasped my hands tightly +and shut my eyes as if some terrible sight was before me, while my poor +heart grieved and brain reeled, as I thought, "Oh! he will die, poor +Hal! alone among strangers, and how would our patient mother bear it, +and what should we do!"</p> + +<p>My face was white, I know, for grief always blanched my face and brought +those terribly silent tears, that fall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> like solemn rain drops—each a +tongue. You must remember that I was a smothered fire in those days.</p> + +<p>Louis put his strong arm around me, and stroked my forehead as if I were +a child and he my mother.</p> + +<p>"He will not die, little flower, thy brother will live; you must go to +him, and I will go with you. You must not go alone to a great city."</p> + +<p>"Oh Louis!" I said, "he had only just begun to love me when he went +away, and now if he dies, what shall I do without him? Prayers have but +little weight, they ought to have saved him, I have prayed so long, so +hard, Louis, for his safety. But I must tell mother." And when she heard +me, and I said I must go to him, she sat down as if in despair; but a +moment after looked almost cheerful as she said:</p> + +<p>"You must start to-night, my dear, and I must get all the little +medicines I can think of ready for you to take, and as soon as he is +able he must come home. If it is a fever, I fear for his lungs."</p> + +<p>Clara waited until our talk was over, and then came and said Louis must +go with me; put into my hands a well filled purse, and said:</p> + +<p>"Bring the brother back, dear cousin; don't wait for him to get well; +bring him back on a bed if necessary; he will never get well among +strangers."</p> + +<p>When father came he was pained beyond expression, and his first thought +was for means to do all that must be done.</p> + +<p>"Clara has provided that, father," and he was too thankful to reply.</p> + +<p>Everything was ready; Louis and I said "good-bye"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> to all, and drove +rapidly away, for in order to reach the station below ours, where we +could take a night train West, we must ride thirty miles. The train was +due at eight-forty-five, and it was four o'clock when we started; a +neighboring farmer (Mr. Graves), who had a span of fleet horses took us, +and we dashed over the ground rapidly, having full five minutes to +breathe in at the depot ere we took the train. No luxurious palace cars +in those days, you know, just the cushioned seats, but that was enough +for me; I thought I could have sat on a hard wooden seat, or on anything +if I only could reach that suffering boy. Louis tried to arrange our +baggage so that I could sleep.</p> + +<p>"Sleep will not come to my eyelids to-night, Louis, I shall not sleep +until I see Halbert, and know how he is and is to be."</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Emily," he said as he took my hand in his, "I say you must +sleep. Watching will do him no good until we get there, and more than +this, it may do him much harm, for if you get so tired, you will be ill +yourself when you arrive and then he will have no sister. For Hal's +sake, Miss Emily, you shall go to sleep; lean on my shoulder, and I +believe I can help your nerves to become quiet."</p> + +<p>I knew he was right, and yielded myself to the strong control he +possessed over me, and I slept I know not how long. When I awoke Louis +said we were getting along at good speed.</p> + +<p>"Day will break soon, and then comes a change of cars, and in a little +while we shall see the great city."</p> + +<p>I was for a few moments at a loss to realize everything; when I did I +said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Selfish girl to sleep so long, and you have sat here watching me, and +now you are so tired."</p> + +<p>"Not so tired,—so glad for your rest—I can sleep to-morrow, and when +we get to Chicago you shall watch him days and I will watch nights; we +shall go to him armed with strength, which is more than medicine; I told +you long ago I had something to do for Hal, you see it is coming."</p> + +<p>The whole journey was pleasant, and sometimes it seemed wicked when Hal +was so sick for me to feel so rested and peaceful, but here I was +controlled, and it was blessed to be. I might never have come back to my +mother had it not been for the power of Louis' strong thought and will.</p> + +<p>The journey accomplished, it was not long ere we saw the dear face of my +blessed brother. I will not detail all the small horrors that met me in +the house where we found him. It might have seemed worse to me than it +really was, but oh! how I needed all the peace that had settled upon me, +to take in the surroundings of that fourth story room. Soul and sense +revolted at the sickening odors of the little pen, where, on a wretched +cot, my brother lay. I thought of our home, and drew rapid contrasts +between our comfortable beds, and the straw pallet before me; our white +clean floors, home-made rugs, and,—but never mind. Then I said in my +heart, "God help me to be more thankful," and with brimming eyes I +caught both Hal's hands in my own, and looked in his flushed face, +trying vainly to catch a look of recognition. He did not know me. Louis +had kindly stepped aside to give me all the room, but he watched me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +closely, and caught me as I staggered backward feeling all the strength +go suddenly from my limbs, while from my lips came the words which +burned into my soul, "He will die." I had never in my life fainted, and +did not now. Louis drew a little flask of brandy from his pocket and +forced a few drops into my mouth. My will came back to me, and in a few +moments I could think a little. "A doctor, Louis, oh! where is there +one—what shall we do?" Even as I spoke, Hal's employer entered and with +him Dr. Selden. The merchant did not come as near to me as did the old +doctor with his good-natured, genial face, and quiet but elastic step. I +forgot everything but the sufferer, and turned to him with upraised +hands and streaming eyes, saying:</p> + +<p>"Oh! tell me quickly what to do, don't let him die, he has a good home +and friends, we love him dearly, help me to get him there," adding, in +answer to his look of inquiry, "I am his sister, and this gentleman," +turning to Louis, "is our friend Mr. Desmonde."</p> + +<p>The doctor laid his hand on my head and said:</p> + +<p>"I have not seen the patient before; an examination will doubtless help +me to answer your question, and to give you the help you ask. Rest +yourself, Miss, you will soon need a physician's aid yourself," and he +drew a chair close to the foot of the bed for me. Then he felt Hal's +pulse, stroked his head a little, and sat quietly down at the foot of +the bed just opposite me, and laid one hand over Hal's heart, leaning +forward a little, and looking as if half mystified. The few minutes we +sat there seemed to me an hour, waiting, as it seemed, for decision +between life and death. Suddenly Halbert sprang up and shouted:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here! here! this way, almost finished—hold my heart—hold it still; +I'll make Emily's eyes snap when I get home, ha, ha!" and then a sort of +gurgling sound filled his throat, and he placed both hands over his +chest, and sank back, while for an instant all the blood left his face. +I put my hand into Louis', and groaned, trying hard to control myself, +for I knew we were close to the shadows, and perhaps, "Oh, yes," I +comfortingly thought, "perhaps we need not pass through them all."</p> + +<p>Doctor Selden moved to the head of his bed, and held both hands on Hal's +temples; for a few moments it seemed as if no one breathed, then Hal +drew a long breath as if he were inhaling something, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"That feels good; my head is tired, tired, tired."</p> + +<p>This gave me courage. It seemed then as if he were feeling the power of +an uplifting hand, and soon—</p> + +<p>"Emily, Emily!" passed his lips. "Tell her to come to me, she will help +me, tell her to come." Then for a few moments all was still, and he +slept. Dr. Selden looked at me with hope in his eyes, and tears of +gratitude gathered to run like a river of rain drops over my cheeks. He +slept twenty minutes, and as he stirred the doctor motioned me to come +where he could see me. His eyes opened and met mine.</p> + +<p>"Emily!" he said, and putting both arms around my neck, drew my head +down to his pillow, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Don't cry—I'll go home with you—all right, the end will be all +right." Fearing for his strength, I said softly:</p> + +<p>"Don't talk, you're too weak, Hal; lie still for a little while and shut +your eyes." I raised my head and put my hand on his forehead, and soon +he was asleep. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> in a low, kind tone the doctor told us the crisis +was past, and now we must wait for the changes, which were one by one to +fall on him. Hal's employer urged me to go to his house, and let Louis +remain with Halbert, and at last it was arranged that at night I should +sleep there, and Louis stay with Hal. Several hours would elapse, +however, before night, and during this time Dr. Selden, Louis and I +would stay with Hal.</p> + +<p>I had time during his long sleep to think of something to be done for +him, and realized, as I recovered from the first shock his situation +gave to my nerves, the importance of a different room, better +ventilation, etc., and when Dr. Selden motioned to Louis to take his +seat near Hal's head, where he could lay his hand upon him when he woke, +I whispered to him my thoughts. His answer, though somewhat comforting, +bade me wait until he could decide what was best. He took my hand in his +and called me "little girl,"—just think of it, I was five feet six +inches high, my face looked every day of forty that minute,—told me I +was too tired to plan, and he would attend to it all, adding, at the +close of his dear good talk:</p> + +<p>"His artist soul has nearly used up his physical strength. I feel there +has been great pressure on the nerves. If so there must be, according to +the course of nature, rapid changes up to a certain point, and then +there will be a thorough change slowly wrought out. Do not doubt my +skill, 'little girl,' he will come out all right; you and I have a sure +hold on his heart-strings."</p> + +<p>I could hardly wait to ask the question, "What do you mean by his artist +soul? what is he doing? and the doc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>tor's eyes were looking in wonder at +me, and his lips parting with a word, when Hal's voice startled us with:</p> + +<p>"Emily, who is this?" and we turned to see him looking at Louis, whose +hand was on his head.</p> + +<p>I answered, "The dear friend Hal who brought me here."</p> + +<p>"What a beautiful hand he has. Oh! how it rests my tired, tired brain," +he said. "Water, Emily, sister, a little water."</p> + +<p>Dr. Selden gave him a glass, saying, "Drink all you like."</p> + +<p>"I am faint," said Hal.</p> + +<p>"Take this, my good fellow," and the doctor held a glass of cordial to +his lips.</p> + +<p>He was perfectly lucid now, and his voice natural. Dr. Selden, +anticipating questions from him, answered them all; told him I had come +to stay until he could go back to the old home with me, and of Mr. +Hanson's kind tender of hospitality to both Louis and myself, and +settled every vexing question for the patient, who looked a world of +thanks, and with "God be praised" on his lips passed again into +unconsciousness, with Louis' hand still passing over his head. I thought +then if Louis should ask me to jump into the crater of Vesuvius for him +I could do it out of sheer thankfulness; and I marvelled at him, the +child of wealth and ease, only a boy in years, here in this miserable +room a strong comforting man, seeming as perfectly at home as if always +here. Then the thought of the artist came back to me and I leaned +forward to ask Dr. Selden what it all meant.</p> + +<p>"Why, little girl, your brother is a sculptor born. He has sat up nights +working hard to accomplish his work,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> and has succeeded too well in his +art, for unconsciously he has worn his nervous power threadbare. You +will see one of his little pieces in Mr. Hanson's library when you go +down there. He has a friend here who—Ah!" said the doctor, turning at +that very moment toward the slowly-opening door and grasping the hand of +a tall stately man with dreamy eyes, who seemed to be looking the +question, "May I come in."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; come in, professor," whispered the doctor, and he introduced +me to Hal's teacher and friend, Wilmur Benton. Then offered him the only +remaining chair.</p> + +<p>The professor seated himself quietly, and raising his dreamy brown eyes +said, "Will he live?"</p> + +<p>The doctor smiled and bowed a positive "yes" as he said:</p> + +<p>"The crisis is past, care and patience now."</p> + +<p>At this moment Hal awoke, and this time more naturally than before. He +was quiet, looked upon us all with the clear light of reason in his +eyes, and would have talked if it had been allowed. He wanted us all +close to him, and smiled as he held tightly Louis' hand in one of his, +and with the other grasped that of Professor Benton, to lay both +together in a silent introduction. I think Hal felt that Louis had saved +his life, and he clung to his hand as a drowning man would to a life +preserver. One sweet full hour passed over us, and the doctor made +preparation to leave him, whispering to me:</p> + +<p>"The young man you brought to your brother is giving him wonderful +strength, and he must leave him only long enough to rest a little. The +crisis is past and the victory won."</p> + +<p>And here began and ended a wonderful lesson in life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>A QUESTION AND A PROBLEM.</h3> + + +<p>The details of our stay in Chicago as a whole would be uninteresting, +and I would not weary the reader with them. Hal improved so rapidly that +on the fourth day after our arrival, he was carried in comparative +comfort to Mr. Hanson's residence, and placed for a few days in a +pleasant chamber to gather strength for our journey home. One little +incident I must tell you, connected with my introduction to Mr. Hanson's +family. We were seated at the supper table, talking of Hal, his sickness +and the cause of it, when Daisy, a five-year-old daughter, spoke +quickly, "Mamma, mamma, she looks just like the 'tree lady,' only she +don't have her sewing."</p> + +<p>I did not realize it as the child spoke, but when Mrs. Hanson chided the +little one, saying, "Daisy must learn not to tell all her little +thoughts," it all came so clearly, and I trembled visibly; yes, I guess +it was rather more than visible, since an unfortunate tilt in my chair, +an involuntary effort of trying to poise brain and body at once, upset +cup and saucer and plate, and before I knew it Mrs. Hanson had deluged +me with bay rum. They said I nearly fainted, but I realized nothing save +the ludicrous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> figure I presented, and I thought desparingly "Emily did +it." After supper I went to the library, and there it was—this piece of +work which Hal had done, representing me sitting under that old apple +tree, hemming and thinking. It was so perfectly done, even to the plain +ring on my middle finger, a wide old-fashioned ring which had been my +grandmother Minot's, and bore the initials "E.M." I could not speak when +I saw it, and if I could I should not have dared to for fear of some +unfortunate expression. I wished in my heart it had been any one else +but me.</p> + +<p>"If my face had been like Hal's," I thought, and I stood as one covered +with a mantle and bound by its heavy folds, until the gentle voice of +Mrs. Hanson roused me, saying:</p> + +<p>"Take a seat, Miss Minot, you are very tired." Yes, I was tired, though +I did not know it, and taking the chair she proffered, I covered my face +with both my hands and drew long breaths, as if to deliver myself from +the thoughts which overwhelmed me. Mrs. Hanson's womanly nature divined +my feelings, and she left me to myself, but after a while Daisy drew an +Ottoman near, and seating herself on it put her little hands in mine and +whispered:</p> + +<p>"I think you're awful pretty. Don't you?"</p> + +<p>I drew her into my lap and kissed her, and my dreams that night were +hope and peace. Louis was with me there, and although constantly +attentive to Hal, he gave no signs of weariness, and Hal would look into +his eyes, as he sat beside him, with a look of perfect devotion. I +thought so many times, as he lay back among his pillows looking at +Louis, he was mentally casting his features,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> and how nice it would be +when his deft hands moulded the clay with face and form like that of our +beautiful Louis Desmonde. What a joy to Clara's heart, and my own would +beat like a bird in its cage, thrilled with rapture at the prospect of +deliverance! Had he not saved the life of my darling brother, and in my +heart down deep, so deep I could bring no light of words upon the +thought, I felt that I loved them both. The tenth day (since our removal +to Mr. Hanson's) arrived, and then came our departure. I cried every +minute, and only because I was glad. Mr. and Mrs. Hanson and Louis +thought it due to over-exertion, and when I tried to explain I made an +unintelligible murmur, and only succeeded in bringing out one +thought—my gratitude to them and the hope that I might one day repay +it. Oh, how kind they were! Everything to make the transit easy for Hal +was cared for, even to the beautiful blanket Mrs. Hanson gave him, which +was doubly precious since her grandmother span the wool and colored and +wove it with her own hands. It was a happy party which left Chicago on +that memorable morning, and our journey was delightful. Father was +waiting for us at the old home station, and instead of the old stage we +rode home in an easy carry-all behind our own horses. Mother and Clara +met us with outstretched hands, and the latter, as she stood in the +doorway, looked a perfect picture.</p> + +<p>Hal was very tired, and for days after our return was threatened with a +relapse, which was averted only by the unvarying care and strength of +Louis. When this risk was over and he was fairly started on the road of +re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>covery, came the departure of our friend and his return to his +studies. Oh, how we dreaded it! Hal said afterward the thought of his +going sent a chill to his head. The evening before his departure we +walked over the hill through the pleasant path his mother and myself +always chose when we walked and talked together. I said:</p> + +<p>"Go with us, Clara," as we sauntered along the yard path toward the +gate, but Louis looked at her and she turned gaily from us with the +words:</p> + +<p>"I will look after the invalid."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me I was made of stone that evening, and we walked long +before the silence was broken. At last Louis stopped, and taking both my +hands looked into my heart (it seemed so to me) and said:</p> + +<p>"I leave to-morrow."</p> + +<p>My eyes grew moist, but only a sigh escaped my lips. I did not even say +I was sorry.</p> + +<p>Then we sat down on the mossy trunk of our favorite tree, and he said:</p> + +<p>"Are you sorry, Emily? Will you miss me, and will you write to me, and +will your dark eyes read the words I send to you?"</p> + +<p>Dumb, more dumb than before, I sighed and bowed my head, and again he +spoke, this time with that strange, terribly earnest look in his eyes I +had seen before.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Emily! my dear Emily! I am only a boy in years, but I love you with +the strength of a man. I have saved the life of your brother because I +loved his sister; and," he added in a low tone, "I love him too, but not +as I do the dark eyes of his sister. Oh! Emily, do you love me? Can you +and will you love me, and me only?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>And he drew me to him almost fiercely, while I quivered in every nerve, +and answered:</p> + +<p>"Louis, do you know me well? Can you not understand my heart? How can I +help loving you?"</p> + +<p>He loosened his grasp about me, and as his arm fell from my waist, tears +fell at his feet. Oh, what a nature was his! Then turning again to +me—"Will you wear this?" and a ring of turquoise and pearls was slipped +on my finger, while in his hand he held a richly-carved shell comb.</p> + +<p>"This is for your midnight hair Emily, wear it always," and he placed it +among the coils of my hair.</p> + +<p>Silence followed for a little time, and then Louis with his soulful eyes +fixed on something afar off, spoke with great fervor of the life he +longed for.</p> + +<p>"Emily, you do not know me yet," he said.</p> + +<p>"I know you better than you know yourself, but I am to you a puzzle, and +oh, if I could skip the years that lie between to-day and the day when +you and I shall really understand each other! Perfect in peace that day +I know will come, but there are clouds between. My father willed that I +should have this education I am getting. I need it, I suppose, but I +have greater needs, and cannot tell you about them till I am free."</p> + +<p>"Two years—twenty-four months;" and his eyes fell, as he added +despairingly, "What a long time to wait." Then turning to me, "But you +will love me, you have said so?"</p> + +<p>I looked my thoughts, and he answered them.</p> + +<p>"Do not ever think so of me, I am only too sane, I have found my life +before the time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! Louis," I cried, and then he answered with the words,</p> + +<p>"My little mother knows it—she knows I love you. She knows my inmost +soul, and answers me with her pure eyes. But ah! her eyes have not the +light of yours; I want you to myself, to help me, and I will love you +all my life."</p> + +<p>I was amazed, and wondered why it was—this strange boy had been much in +society, and why should I, an unsophisticated, homely girl, bring such a +shower of feeling on myself.</p> + +<p>"Could it be real and would it last?"</p> + +<p>He comprehended my thought again and replied:</p> + +<p>"You are not homely; I see your soul in your eyes; you are younger than +I am; I have never seen your equal, and I know years will tell you I am +only true to my heart, and we will work together—ah! we will work for +something good, we will not be all for ourselves, <i>ma belle</i>," and on my +forehead he left a kiss that burned with the great thoughts of his +heart.</p> + +<p>I could only feel that I was in the presence of a wonderful power, and +at that moment he seemed a divinity. The moon came over the hill, and +with his arm in mine we turned our steps homeward, and Clara met us +half-way, and putting her hand fondly in Louis' said:</p> + +<p>"My boy is out under the moon. I feared he was lost."</p> + +<p>"My little mother!" and he gathered her under his wing, as it seemed, +and we were soon at the gate of home. Louis and his mother passed in at +the side door. As they did so, I fell back a step or two, turned my +steps toward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> the old apple tree, and there, sitting against its old +trunk, I talked aloud and cried and said:</p> + +<p>"Have I done wrong, or is it right?"</p> + +<p>Oh! what strange thoughts came over me as I sat growing more and more +convinced that Louis' talk to me was a boyish rhapsody, and yet I knew +then, as I had before known, that my own heart was touched by his +presence. If he had been older, I should have felt that heaven had +opened; as it was, I longed to be full of hope and to dream of days to +be, and still I feared and I said aloud, "I am afraid, oh, I am afraid!" +and at that moment Louis stood before me, and in quiet tones spoke as +one having authority:</p> + +<p>"Emily, you will get cold, you should not sit here."</p> + +<p>And as I rose the moonbeams fell on my tear-stained face, and he said as +if I were the merest child:</p> + +<p>"Why do you fear I shall ever be different toward you; but you need not +feel bound even though you have said you will love me."</p> + +<p>"Louis," I cried, "you are cruel; you trouble me; I can't tell how I +feel at all," and then realizing his last sentence I took off the ring, +but ere I could speak he put it back, saying:</p> + +<p>"No, no, Emily. I will wait one year, and then if you are afraid I will +go away; but keep the ring, for that is yours, and yours alone."</p> + +<p>I went up to my little room without bidding any one "good-night," and +thought those old three words right over, "Emily did it." I had covered +myself up because I dared not be known, and if, after all, it was right, +how good it would be to be loved by one capable of such wondrous love as +he possessed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>I dreamed all night that I was alone and ill, and in the morning I +dreaded to meet Louis, but he gave no sign of any troubled thought, and +when the stage came was ready with his bright "good-bye." He folded his +little mother to his heart and held her there for a few seconds. When he +came to me his hand's grasp was firm and strong. His kiss and whisper +came together, "I will write." A moment later and he had gone. Clara +went to her own room, to cry a little softly as she afterward said, and +so the time wore on till the evening found us again all around the +table, and old grey Timothy, our cat, had the boldness to sit in Louis' +chair, which made Clara laugh through her tears. Joy and sorrow go hand +in hand, and while we felt his loss so keenly, his letters were a great +pleasure.</p> + +<p>Hal had his share as well as Clara and I, and mother used to read every +one of Hal's. It seemed strange to me to have anything to keep from +mother, and had she opened the door I would have told her all, but she +never asked me about Louis' letters, and until I overheard a +conversation between my father and her I was held in silence; then the +ice was broken, for father said:</p> + +<p>"I do not know what to do. It is possible that this bright young fellow +will play the part that so many do, and our innocent Emily be made the +sufferer. When he comes again we will try and manage to have her away. +She is a good girl and capable beside. Her life must not be blighted, +but we must also be careful not to hurt Clara's feelings. Clara is a +good little woman, and how we should miss her if she left us!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said my mother, "I do not feel alarmed about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> our Emily, but, of +course, it is better to take too much precaution than not enough," and +their conversation ended.</p> + +<p>When an opportunity presented I talked with mother, told her what I had +heard, and all that Louis had said to me, almost word for word, and the +result was her confidence. When our talk closed, she said in her own +impressive way:</p> + +<p>"I will trust you, my daughter, and only one thing more I have to say: +Let me urge upon you the importance of testing your own deepest, best +feelings in regard to this and every other important step—yes, and +unimportant ones as well. There is a monitor within that will prove an +unerring guide to us at all times. If we do not permit ourselves to be +hurried and driven into other than our own life channels we shall gather +from the current an impetus, which comes from the full tide of our +innate thought. Such thought develops an inner sense of truth and +fitness, which is a shield ever covering us, under any and all +circumstances. It holds us firmly poised, no matter which way the wind +may be, or from what quarter it strikes us."</p> + +<p>This thought I could not then appreciate fully, but I did what I could +toward it, and it was, in after years, even then, an anchor. My mother's +eyes were beautiful; they looked like wells, and when thoughts like +these rose to mingle with their light, they seemed twice as large and +full and deep as on ordinary occasions. I never wanted to disobey her, +and in those days we read through together the chapters in life's book +that opened every sunrise with something new. Our souls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> were blent as +one in a delightful unity, that savored more of Paradise than earth, and +now with Hal's returning strength, there was a triple pulsation of +mingled thought. Oh, Halbert, my blessed brother, no wonder my eyes are +brimming with tears of love at these dear recollections! Louis had sent +him a large box of material for doing his work, and Clara had insisted +on his having one of her new rooms for a studio, and everything was as +perfect as tasteful appointments could make it, even to the +dressing-gown she had made for him.</p> + +<p>She made this last with her own hands, of dark blue cashmere, corded +with a thread of gold. He had to wear it, too, for she said nothing +could be too nice to use.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear Halbert," she added, "the grass is much nicer and you walk +on that."</p> + +<p>The rich rosy flush came slowly enough into his pale cheeks, but it +found them at last, and I do believe when we saw the work grow so fast +under his hands, we were insane with joy. To think our farmer boy who +followed the cows so meekly every night had grown to be a man and a +sculptor, throwing such soul into his work as to model almost breathing +figures! His first work was a duplicate of the piece at Mr. Hanson's, +and was made at Louis' especial request. His next work was a study in +itself. It was an original subject worthy of Hal's greatest efforts, a +representation of our good old friend Hildah Patten, known to all our +village as "Aunt Hildy." We called her our dependence, for she was an +ever-present help in time of need; handy at everything and wasteful of +nothing. Her old green camlet cloak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> (which was cut from her +grandfather's, I guess) with the ample hood that covered her face and +shoulders, was a welcome sight to me, whenever at our call for aid she +came across lots. She lived alone and in her secluded woodland home led +a quiet and happy life; she was never idle, but always doing for others. +Few really understood her, but she was not only a marvel of truth but +possessed original thought, in days when so little time was given in our +country to anything save the struggle for a living. It is only a few +years since Aunt Hildy was laid away from our sight. I often think of +her now, and I have in my possession the statuette Hal made, which shows +camlet cloak, herb-bags and all. I desire you to know her somewhat, +since her visits were frequent and our plans were all known to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>WILMUR BENTON.</h3> + + +<p>The fall is a busy time in a farmer's household—with the gathering of +grain, clearing up of fields, and making all due preparations for the +coming winter; and it is beautiful also. This year, however, the many +colored leaves had sought the ground unnoticed by me; for my days had +been absorbed in thought and, instead of looking at things about me, if +I had a spare moment I wandered in the realms of feeling.</p> + +<p>November had come to us with Louis' departure, and the weeks between his +coming and going seemed, as I looked back, like a few hours only, +crowded together as a day before me with the strange events, and +stranger thoughts, whose existence from that time onward has forced me +to own their supremacy and power. Hal's artist friend, Professor Benton, +was coming to see him—and I wished it were May instead of November, for +it seemed to me the outer attractions of our country home were much +greater than the inner, and I could not see how he was to be +entertained. Clara's side (as we called the four rooms she had added) +would be the only attraction, and since Hal was domiciled there, that +would be the right place. Many paintings adorned the walls, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> to me +there was such a contrast between our middle room and its belongings, +and the sunny chamber occupied by Hal, that whenever I looked on the +massively-framed pictures there, they seemed out of place. Clara was +fond of having them in sight, and labored hard to have her loves ours. +Every other evening we were forced to occupy that side of the house and +I wonder, as I look back, that my father could have been so obedient to +her wishes. She would sit on an ottoman between him and my mother and +often with her head resting against the arm of his chair, talking with +us of our farm, the plans for winter, and the fences to be built with +the coming spring; and she was never satisfied unless allowed to be +really one of us. The building she had done was accredited to my father, +for she would not have it otherwise, and when his spirit of independence +prompted him to refuse her board-money afterward, she looked at him with +tears in her eyes and said:</p> + +<p>"Why must I be repelled, Mr. Minot? Please let me stay here always. I +have no comfort if I have no one to be happy with, and you must take +this from me."</p> + +<p>She was no trouble, and such a small eater that she must have paid us +four times over for all she had. Father thought at first her impulsive +gifts would be of short duration, but months had revealed her to us, and +we realized that she was a marvel of goodness. Not only interesting +herself in us but in others. Weekly visits were made by her to the poor +in our parish, and blessings fell on her head in prayers rising from the +lips of her grateful friends. The semi-monthly sewing circle she caused +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> be appointed at our house (her side), and with her own hands made +all the edibles necessary on every occasion. She shrank from making +calls upon those who were not in need of her services, and never went +willingly to any public gathering. I never knew why, but she was +morbidly sensitive on this point. Once she was over-persuaded, and went +to an old-fashioned quilting party with mother, and she came home in a +fainting condition, and we worked over her until after midnight.</p> + +<p>"I am so cold here," she said, placing her hand on her heart—"I will +not go out any more, Mrs. Minot; it hurts me."</p> + +<p>We never afterward urged her, nor explained her suffering to the friends +who inquired. She exacted a promise to that effect.</p> + +<p>What a strange being our lovely Clara was! She grew to our hearts as ivy +to the oak, and the tendrils of her nature entwined us, creeping a +little nearer daily, until the doors of our hearts were covered with +their growing beauty. I should be writing all about her, and not bring +myself into my story at all, but the promise I made you must be +fulfilled. At some other time I may write out for you the life and work +of this beautiful friend. My own experience seems to me only a +background against which her picture ought to rest. I have been +rambling, for you remember I began to tell you about the coming of Hal's +artist friend from Chicago. I believe it was the fifteenth of November +when he came, and his presence was not a burden as I feared, for he +found and filled a place held in reserve for him, and all united with me +in saying: "What a splendid man he is!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>Brother Ben, who was now at an interesting age, called him "a man to +study," and he seemed to be fascinated by him. His eyes followed every +motion, and his ear was keenly alive to every expression of thought. I +sometimes thought Hal wished Ben did not like him as well, for he was +constantly availing himself of his society. Some work fortunately had to +be done, else Hal would have been very much troubled to gain an +audience. Clara did not like the artist quite as well as I did, though +she said with the rest, "What a splendid man!" and betrayed by no word +or act any disregard for his feelings, still I intuitively felt a +something she did not say; and when I told her he had made an +arrangement to stay all winter, she clasped her white hands together +tightly, and between two breaths a sigh came fluttering from her lips, +while tears gathered in the blue of her eyes, as the white lids fell to +cover what she would not have me notice. Although a pain and wonder +filled my heart for a moment, I knew if Clara wished me to divine her +feelings she would explain herself, and her silence left me to my own +conjectures. I said to myself "Some thought of the past has come over +her," for I could not see how the stay of Wilmur Benton could affect her +happiness. He treated her with great deference and seemed to realize +with us that she had a rare organization. His stay was a matter of great +interest with Hal, as Hal was to gain from him the instruction he +needed, and they expected to get much enjoyment from working together. +Louis would be with us through the holidays, and Mr. Benton would, I +knew, enjoy that, for he insisted that it was the magic of his hand that +had saved Hal's life, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> looked on him as a real blessing. The two +artist souls blended as one, and drank daily deep draughts from the +fountain of an inspiring genius, and as I watched the work grow under +their hands, and the plastic and senseless clay become a fair statue, +lacking nothing save breath and motion to reveal an entity, I questioned +if the power was really theirs, or if their hands had touched a secret +spring and were guided outside of themselves. It really never seemed +like exertion, and to sense this wondrous art was to me the asking of +questions deeper than any among us could answer.</p> + +<p>Hal's statue of dear Aunt Hildy was copied, and improved also by Mr. +Benton, who considered it a masterpiece, and the respect we bore our +friend was not lessened, even though there were those among us who might +speculate as to the motive that prompted it.</p> + +<p>We never called her funny, but original, and good as gold. Our family +numbered now seven people, and with the farm work in addition to the +daily preparation of meals, the clearing up and upsetting again of +things, there were many steps to take, and Aunt Hildy was installed as +our help in need.</p> + +<p>These were the days of help—not servants—when honest toil was well +appreciated by sensible people, and no hurried or half-done work fell +from their hands, but the steady doing resulted in answering the daily +demands.</p> + +<p>"It's a bunch of work to do; it is, indeed, Mrs. Minot," said Aunt +Hildy.</p> + +<p>"But we'll master it."</p> + +<p>"I ain't never going to be driven by work, nor aristocracy neither. It's +a creepin' in on us, though, like the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> snake in the garden, just to make +folks think they can get more comfort out of fixin's than they can out +of the good old truths. I can't be fed on chaff; no, I can't."</p> + +<p>And her sleeves would go up to her elbows, and she would march through +work like a mower through a field.</p> + +<p>Her coming gave me a chance to do some sewing, and with Clara's help +about cutting (and she sewed with me), the needed spring and summer +apparel and house linen were fashioned and made ready for use. The days +passed pleasantly to us all, and though I had watched Clara closely, she +betrayed neither by word nor sign anything that savored of dislike +toward Professor Benton; and still, sometimes, I felt that unexplainable +something that once in a while tried as it were to shape itself before +me, and as often vanished in mist. We had long evenings, and many new +topics were introduced and discussed. I had access to Clara's large and +well selected library, and I improved every opportunity to inform myself +on doubtful subjects. Sometimes I despaired of knowing anything new, and +again my brain would seem clearer, and would take in the new thoughts +with keen perception. When, however, we came to talk upon these same +subjects, I sat nearly dumb; I could summon no thoughts nor words to +frame them. Even this stupidity had its advantage, for Mr. Benton (Hal +called him Will) was a good talker, and had, as all talkers have, a +great respect for a good listener, and he often said to me:</p> + +<p>"You have a heart to appreciate rare truths, Miss Minot."</p> + +<p>Clara was gifted in conversation, but did not always express her +sentiments with great freedom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>If we touched on things nearest her heart, and I believe the doing of +good each to the other was her highest thought, she was at home, and her +blue eyes would glow with light, as in her own sweet way she talked long +and earnestly. I shall never forget the first time Mr. Benton noticed +this point in her organization. The newsmonger of our town had been to +see us, had spent the afternoon and taken tea, and while it was +amusement for me to hear her gossip incessantly about this thing and +that, this person and the other, Clara was greatly annoyed by it. It +caused a righteous indignation to rise within her, and when after the +visit we were seated by the antique centre table in her sitting-room, +the conversation turned upon the peculiarities of this scandal-loving +Jane North.</p> + +<p>Clara expressed herself freely on the subject of small talk, as she +termed scandal. Her eyes dilated, her small hands were folded tightly, +and when she closed it was with this last feeling sentence:</p> + +<p>"I can only say, 'Father, forgive them, they know not what they do,' who +scatter the theme of contention where roses should appear, and in +tearing down the habitation of their neighbors lose also their own; for +they who have respect for themselves will have respect for their +neighbors. May we yet live to understand the meaning of the words, 'Love +ye one another.' When this shall be, oh, my more than friends, when this +shall be, we shall know each other, even as we are known! No secret +blight shall cover any life, no worm of regret gnaw at the tree of our +unfolding lives! We shall all be as a unit, and our Father who seeth us +in secret shall then reward us openly! Yea, more, for are not we +ourselves capable of holding com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>munion with this part of God within us? +We know our souls are with us to-day, and it is only because the roots +of thought are covered, and the feet of envy, hatred and malice are +pressing, the hard soil against them, that the tendrils of our loving +natures are never asked to climb, and the eternal ivy of our great love +reaches not the windows of expressed thought, else our hands would be +made strong to do daily that which is found to do with all our might."</p> + +<p>Her last beautiful utterance finished, she closed her eyes as if covered +with the mantle of her holy thoughts, and we all sat in a breathless +silence. Aunt Hildy who sat in the corner (by preference) stirred not a +muscle from the beginning to the close of her talk, and Mr. Benton +looked first in wonder then in admiration, and when our silence was +broken by a fervent "Amen" from Aunt Hildy, he added:</p> + +<p>"'Even so let it be.' Those thoughts are beautiful."</p> + +<p>Clara looked at him with an almost reproachful glance, the import of +which I could not understand.</p> + +<p>I was not sensitive like Clara; perhaps intuitive would express it +better. She seemed to understand every one's nature on the first +meeting, and I had marvelled many tunes at her accuracy in reading +character.</p> + +<p>She told me that her heart went out to Aunt Hildy at their first +meeting, and I felt convinced now there was something about this new +friend that no one save herself could detect, and whether it had shape +with her or not was a question.</p> + +<p>Three weeks of Mr. Benton's stay had passed when this incident occurred, +and from that hour there was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> marked change in his manner toward her. +I could see, ignorant as I was of the phases of life, how he was +attracted to her. This glimpse of her wondrous nature had opened his +eyes, and perhaps touched his heart. His age must be about hers, I +thought, and how strange if it should be that he loved her. But here I +run into a mist where nothing was plain. Days will tell the story, I +thought, and we were sure of days and changes while life lasted. It +became plain to me after a little that Clara felt the change in his +manner toward her, and in every quiet move of hers I detected the +disposition on her part to repel any advances. She gave him no +opportunity to be with her alone, and if by chance this happened, her +sweet voice would call "Emily, come in this way, we are lonely without +you," and her eyes would turn on me when I entered with a sort of +wistful glance. It always reminded me of a child looking confidently +into the eyes of its mother, expecting the help it was sure to find. I +hardly enjoyed this, for I knew Mr. Benton thought me old enough to +discern a little, and he must have believed us to be in league together, +whereas no word had passed between us on the subject until just before +Christmas, when Louis was expected.</p> + +<p>Clara and I were sitting busily sewing and talking of the coming of "her +dear boy," when she let her sewing fall and sat as in thought a few +moments before she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Emily (and she spoke slowly and with earnestness. I felt frightened for +her cheek grew white as the words fell from her lips), when Louis comes +keep close to me all the time, will you? Oh! I know you will, and since<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +I ask such a favor, it is only right I should tell you all about it. I +know, for I feel it in here (and she laid her hand on her head), that +Professor Benton desires to talk to me. He must not be allowed to, +Emily, for if he does it will hurt me so much. I will tell you why, and +I know you will tell it to no one."</p> + +<p>I looked an assent and she continued:</p> + +<p>"He thinks that he might like me so well that he would wish me near him +for ever. But he does not know that I cannot let him say this to me. It +would be hard to make him understand me; he never could. And then if he +should know me very well, it would be all wrong. I love my Louis Robert, +and he is waiting on the hills for me. Yes, my dear Emily, he waits for +me there. Did he not say so when he died, and will he not come for me +some day when I shall be a little more weary, and this beating heart +grows colder? He says he will and I am always with him in my thoughts. +It almost hurts me to live at all. Can you see, Emily, can you know how +it is because I need you all <i>so</i> much that I must stay with you? +Professor Benton has a good heart, but it feels cold to me. His art +obscures from him all else; he can love no one as he loves a picture. +Now you will promise me, no not with words—I would only feel your arm +around me, and with my hand in yours feel you are my trusted one—my +soul friend and my great help."</p> + +<p>Silence was ill suited to my feelings at that moment. I gathered her +gentle form to me, and held her tight while those ever ready tears of +sympathy filled my eyes full, and I spoke honestly when I said:</p> + +<p>"I don't care a fig for Mr. Benton, and if he troubles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> you I will send +him back to Chicago, and I wish he had never come at all."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! do not say it; I shall fear to have you know my heart, it makes +you rebellious. It is well that he came, as your brother needs him, and +you do wrong to say such words. Wait, Emily, keep quiet, you are like a +wind when your thoughts are stirred, and time, my love, will help you to +make your hand strong, and your heart also. It is on a full tide and +with a steady wind that vessels find the sea, while changeful blasts +will shipwreck them, and then cast their wrecks upon the shore. And so +it is with mortals; we have to keep saying, wait! while we pray to be +guided aright."</p> + +<p>"I am always running off the track, Clara, I know; teach me to know +myself and let me help you; you are so different; I shall never be like +you," I said.</p> + +<p>"And you do not wish to be, I hope," was her reply.</p> + +<p>"I would like more of your quiet spirit, but that belongs to you, and if +I wait and work hard to do it, I shall always be upsetting what I wish +to do, and plaguing others instead of helping—" Mother came in and our +talk was at an end.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>FEARS AND HOPES.</h3> + + +<p>Many thoughts filled my mind after what Clara had said, and I thought +much of her beautiful faith as to her husband and his waiting for her; +of her trust in his coming, and of the reality with which came into her +existence this wonderful future that waits for us all if (and sometimes +this little conjunction assumed wonderful proportions) immortality +really be ours. My heart told me we were to live, and in my higher +thoughts I could sometimes see the light that flooded those old hills +near our home, reaching far on to where all those of our household were +waiting. I never at these times could think of our beloved friends, my +blessed grandmother, of whom we did not even possess a daguerreotype, as +an angelic and unearthly something with wings, but rather as a real +being, whose face I should recognize, whose hands should touch my own, +while her lips would move, and in her dear old way she would say "Come +in, Emily," just as she used to when I went as a child to her door, and +looked in at her, as she lay on her bed, partly paralyzed. Her hair was +white with the cares of seventy-four winters, and her eyes filled then +with such a pleasant light. She had lived with us, this dear Grandma +Northrop, for years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> Hal had always been her special charge; she called +him her boy, and up to the last month of her life mended his stockings +first; she would go to the door and watch him go for the cows, and when +he came back over the west meadows, would say with admiration:</p> + +<p>"That boy is worth a dozen such as Ben Davis; he'll do something great +before he dies."</p> + +<p>My mother spoke often of her, and also recalled her saying, "I hope +angels can see men," meaning that she could not bear the thought of +leaving Hal.</p> + +<p>I was only five years old when she left us, still her memory was sacred +to me, and through the summer days I covered her grave with everlasting +flowers and daisies. I remembered her as genial, though somewhat +peculiar in her ways; she had a warm appreciation of wit, and was ever +ready with answers. Mother remembered and told me so many of her happy +sayings that it kept her memory fresh among us all, and if angels could +both see and hear men, she must have felt grateful that we remembered +her with such pleasure. I treasured the hoop ear-rings which she wore, +and which bore her initials, "E.L.N." Her name was Elizabeth, but she +was called by all "Betsey." To Hal she had left two silver spoons and +her snuff-box. He had it among his little treasures, and kept the same +bean in it that was there when she died. I wished a thousand times and +more that my name might be Elizabeth, but Emily was given me by a sister +of father's who desired me to be her namesake, and if I had been more +like her in my young years I should never have been likened to a "fierce +wind," as Clara so truly termed me. This Aunt Emily had gone to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +heavenly home, as had many of my mother's family. She was one of eleven +children, and at this date only one brother, Peter, and a sister, Phebe, +were living. Mother had a beautiful sister, Sallie, who died young, and +whom I loved to hear about. She painted her picture in words for me, and +I could see her dark blue eyes, her brown hair that looked like satin, +and her pink cheeks, almost as if I had really seen and known her. And +when this heaven, that sometimes seemed so like far off mist, grew +nearer, I imagined the meeting of them all, and enjoyed the pleasant +picture which lay before my mind's eye like a waiting promise of whose +fulfillment I felt sure. Clara and Aunt Hildy had long conversations on +these subjects, and Aunt Hildy said to me when speaking of these talks:</p> + +<p>"Oh! I love her white soul, Emily; she allus brings heaven right down to +airth, and even when she don't talk I feel so kind of blessed when I sit +near her. Few such folks are let to live, and somehow I'm almost +convinced she can't stay long," and the corner of her blue-checked apron +would touch her humid eyes, as she turned again to her work.</p> + +<p>Work was a matter of principle with her, and to neglect one duty +unnecessarily, no light offense. She was as true to her highest +conviction of right as the needle to the pole, and held the truth close +to her heart—so close that all her outer life was in correspondence +with her interior perceptions. Truly her light was not under a bushel.</p> + +<p>I hoped her fear of Clara's death would not soon be realized, for it did +not seem as if we could bear to lose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> her presence. Never in any way +could she intrude herself, for her nature moved her in perpetual lines, +whose shadow never fell on the path of another. I felt sorry that she +should be troubled, and I fear my dark eyes now and then shot telling +glances at Mr. Benton.</p> + +<p>The more she tried, even in her graceful way, to repel his advances, the +more determined he was to gain access to her heart. In this I could +detect the selfish part of his nature, and while I could not blame him +for loving her, I knew that my love for her was so great that I would +not knowingly give her any pain, and it seemed to me his love must be +less than it should be, for he could not fail to know it troubled her +and should have desisted. In a few days after our conversation Louis +came.</p> + +<p>Clara had, since she realized Mr. Benton's feelings toward her, been +very careful in the selection of her wearing apparel, choosing for her +daily use the plainest dresses. But on the day of Louis' arrival she +said to me, as we went up stairs after dinner was cleared away:</p> + +<p>"Emily, will you put on the dress that becomes you so well?" It was a +garnet merino she alluded to, a gift from herself.</p> + +<p>"We should make a pleasant picture for Louis when he comes; the dear boy +loves to see his little mother in blue, and our royal Emily in becoming +colors."</p> + +<p>"Of course I will," I said, and as I fastened the lace collar, whose +pattern was roses and leaves, with the pin she gave me, and looked in my +little glass, I thought what a poor resemblance to royalty I bore, and +laughed at the appellation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>Supper was ready, but we waited for the stage, and when it came we were +all at the door. Hal met Louis first and then came Mr. Benton; Clara +kept drawing me back with her, and he was obliged to greet mother and +father and Aunt Hildy also, ere we were visible.</p> + +<p>"Little mother! blessed little mother!" and he held her close, kissing +her with passionate fondness, then turning to me he took both my hands +and whispered softly:</p> + +<p>"Last but not least," and we followed the rest to the supper table.</p> + +<p>Mr. Benton was more than polite during the meal, and afterward delighted +Louis with showing him an unfinished portrait of Clara, which he had +commenced painting on canvas.</p> + +<p>This information was conveyed to me at the first favorable opportunity, +and when Louis enjoined secrecy upon me, he expressed great pleasure +with Mr. Benton, and said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Miss Emily. Little mother is so beautiful; she is always a picture. +When the artist adds to the charming portrait the dress and the little +pearls she wore to receive me, it will be so real I shall want to ask it +to speak to me, and when she leaves me I can look at it, and in my heart +hear her say 'Louis my dear boy.' You love her very much, do you not, +Emily?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "do not talk so, everybody says she is too good +and beautiful to live, and it is a thought too bitter, I cannot bear +it."</p> + +<p>He turned the conversation into another channel, and talked so strongly +about his great desire to master this art of painting, while I wondered +to myself how it had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> happened that these hearts were gathered to our +own and had become members of our household, coming, as they did, like +rare exotics, to live and blossom among us plain hollyhocks and +dandelions. Hal I could liken to a rare flower, but then he was only one +among our number, and in all our family and friends there were none +possessing the gifts of these two souls which had come to us so +strangely.</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy said, "The ways of life are past all comprehending." I +thought so too. Christmas came on Sunday in this year of our Lord +eighteen-hundred-and-forty-two, and for this I rejoiced and was glad. +When it came on a week-day, it seemed like Sunday, and although now and +then we had some really interesting sermons, there was not enough to +fill two sabbaths coming so near together, and it gave me a restless +sort of feeling, especially so, when I knew how quiet and solemn my +father used to be all day, and also his great desire that we should +imitate him.</p> + +<p>I had been a member of our old church three years, and while I desired +to live a Christian life, I could never feel that a long face, and +solemnly pronounced words made any difference in my real life. Father +did not believe any more in long faces than I did, still, I think from +fear of neglecting any part of his duty, he maintained a serious +demeanor from the break of our Sabbath days to their close. He had an +unusually beautiful way of asking a blessing that always gave me a happy +feeling. He merely said in a pleasant way, and with open eyes: "We +should be very thankful for this meal; may we have wisdom to prepare no +unsavory dishes, and strength to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> earn for ourselves, and others if +necessary, the bread we daily need." This gave us a thought (that never +grew old with me) of the needs of our neighbor, and also seemed so +rational, and fitted our needs so perfectly. Aunt Hildy called it a +common-sense blessing. I remember well how she spoke of it, in contrast +with Deacon Grover's long-drawn-out table prayers, saying with emphasis; +"The man, if he is a deacon, has a right to grow better, and we know he +asks God to bless things cattle couldn't eat."</p> + +<p>Christmas, we all went to church, and although it was more than a mile, +aunt Hildy refused to ride.</p> + +<p>"Let me walk as long as I can, time enough to ride by and by, and I'm +only fifty-eight years old, Mr. Minot," she said.</p> + +<p>It was useless to urge her, and she came into church a few minutes later +than we did, and sat in her own pew next ours. This church was an +old-time affair, having been built by the early settlers. It had, as all +those old churches had, square pews, a stove in its central portion with +huge arms of pipe that stretched embracingly in all ways; and its pulpit +was so high that I prevailed on father to sit back from the centre as +far as we could and be comfortably warm, for it was breaking ones' neck +to look at the minister, and the sermon was half lost if you could not +see the play of his features. Our worship was of the Presbyterian order, +and our present pastor a worthy man. This was all the church that +belonged to us really. In the village which nestled in the valley two +and a half miles south-west of us, like a child in the lap of its +mother, there were three churches, Baptist, Methodist, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +Presbyterian, and many who attended our old church would have liked +better to go to one of those, and at times did so, but it was quite a +ride in winter, and for this reason our church was better filled at this +season than in the summer days.</p> + +<p>A new branch of belief had latterly developed itself somewhat in our +neighborhood, and this embraced the thought of universal salvation. +There had been meetings held at the houses of some of our friends, and +once or twice mother and myself had attended.</p> + +<p>The sermon on this Christmas day did me no good, for our minister chose +for his subject false doctrines, and the pointed allusions and +personalities savored greatly of a spirit that was not calculated to +remind us of the humble Nazarene and his lowly spirit.</p> + +<p>Tearing the roof down over our heads would not give one an idea of a +comfortable home; and surely charity's mantle should at least cover the +sins of ignorance, and that certainly was the hardest verdict we could +render against those of our number who had become interested in these +ideas, for that they were good and true people appeared from their +doctrines. The only difference was this: That the love of God was so +great for his children that not one of them would be lost or cast into +the terrible fires, which, according to our old belief, burned for the +guilty through endless time. And now as I reflect I can surely see it +was more through fear of being thus cast off, and not because I could +put my hand on anything so terribly wicked in myself or my acts, that I +early desired and had communication with the church. Somehow I felt more +secure to know I was approved of by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> men, and my name enrolled on the +church list. As I grew older this was a troublesome thought that now and +then, asked for a hearing. As we came out of church, Deacon Grover with +his small black eyes peering into aunt Hildy's face, said to her:</p> + +<p>"Smart sermon; good talk, Miss Patten, how did you enjoy it?"</p> + +<p>"Well as I could," and I nearly laughed in his face, although I knew he +did not realize what she meant. She never liked fiery sermons, as she +called them, and believed that the only way to heap coals of fire on the +head of the unrighteous, was by living so rightly as to make them +ashamed of their ways and do better. Mr. Benton and Louis walked with +Ben and aunt Hildy, and our ride home was a nearly silent one. I knew my +father had not been any more edified than myself, but it was not his way +to talk of it, and not until the next evening was the subject mentioned. +The fire of reproof was begun by your humble servant, and I said many +things which were unnecessary, and expressed my determination to +investigate the new doctrine. If father had been with us I should have +spoken less freely, and as it was I shocked my mother and almost myself, +so severely did I denounce the minister. Louis sat in silence, also his +mother, but aunt Hildy spoke as follows, after waiting a few moments to +see if any one else had pent up wrath to give vent to:</p> + +<p>"Well, as the youngest has spoke, I suppose I may express my feelin's, +and I must say I never heerd a worse sermon. I have been a steddy +meetin-goer for forty years, and have tried to hold a peaceful spirit +that would be jest such as the Master would recommend if he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> among +us; but I believe we all allow we are sinners more or less, and after +all do daily the things we should not do. Still if anybody wanted my +help, I should hate to have 'em chase me with a broomstick, for I +couldn't do a thing for 'em if they did; and if we think anybody is +going into a ditch of a wrong idee, we'd better not scare 'em to death +hollerin at 'em, it would be apt to send 'em in head first, while if we +could kinder creep along behind, and speak a few words kindly, they +would turn round, and we could tell 'em of their danger." Her similes +were original, and we involuntarily smiled an approval of her sentiment, +when Mr. Benton said:</p> + +<p>"Do you not think the fear of hell helps to hold people in the right +path sometimes, Mrs. Patten?" Aunt Hildy looked at him with a wondrous +light in her eyes, as she answered:</p> + +<p>"<i>No, sir</i>, I don't; my Bible says perfect love casteth out fear. The +woman that's afraid of her husband can't love him if she dies for it, +and the boy who hates his father through fear, can't muster up respect +enough to love him if he tries." And her knitting needles clicked again +as if to say, "that's the truth."</p> + +<p>A few moments and then Clara spoke (Aunt Hildy stopped knitting the +moment she began, as if expecting a treat). "We are taught," she said, +"that our Father loves us; that he rejoices with great joy in the return +of a prodigal to his fold. The truth that he loves us better than we can +ever love each other here, that none of us shall ask for bread and +receive a stone, neither fish and receive a serpent, was spoken to us +from the ages past. Christ came into the world as the bearer of all +essen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>tial truths. His enemies, the Jews, knew he told the truth and +hastened to crucify him, saying in plain words—'If he live, all men +will believe on him, crucify him, crucify him,' and it was done, but he +left behind him the great token of his love, and he hath said, +'Whosoever believeth on me, even though he were dead yet shall he live,' +etc. If we can understand him, he means us all, every child of our +Father, and are we not all his? The law of Moses was buried when the law +of Christ was given, which is the law of our omnipotent Father. I am +ready," and down her cheeks tears coursed their way; "I do so want to +know more of this beautiful faith, for it has ever been my own; I say to +you to-night and I have already said it to my heavenly Father, I will +yield my life, if I can help the poor, tired hearts, the needy souls of +men, to embrace this glorious truth, 'Love ye one another.'" Tears +filled the eyes of all save those of Wilmur Benton, who sat as if +covered with astonishment, and I could see that he was puzzled; and if +he spoke his thought might have said, "What manner of woman is this, and +how can I touch the strings of her heart."</p> + +<p>Clara's eyes grew large and full of light as she continued:</p> + +<p>"I care not for the name, for what manner of difference can that +make—we are to be known and know each other by and by; we can and +should have our heaven below; we can and should have love for one and +all; and while my loyal friend Emily speaks harshly of the minister, +who, fearing a new path before some of his people, feels it his duty to +not only call, but drive them back into the square pen of the old ideas; +yet we must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> not condemn him, neither measure his heart exactly by the +words of his text or sermon. The circumference of the tree is more than +three times its diameter, and yet we know the width of the board we use +is found in the diameter. Words are a circumference which encircle the +breadth of a diameter, and we may feel and know that this man, standing +as he does within the bounds of a belief whose main foundation embraces +the two thoughts, heaven and misery, cannot, if he believes this to be +true, do less than urge it upon us all. But if we stop and think, we can +say, perhaps the heart of this religious tree he represents may not be +sound, and when the axe of advancing ideas trims its branches and buries +its blade within its trunk, we shall, as I believe, have proof of this; +and then, perhaps his eyes will turn with ours to the outstretched arms +of a noble oak, whose leaves are green, whose heart is sound, and at +whose base we all may gather, against whose sides we all may rest. It +has waited long, and grown in our father's forest until at last its +giant dimensions have been apparent. The leaves of its upper branches +caught the eye of a ranger on truth's high mountain, and the underbrush +must now be cut away to make a path for our feet. Let the winds +annihilate the dogmas of a creed, let our hearts open to all good +thoughts, and let this one also be as the anchor of our souls, this +glorious thought of our Father's love, this binding together of his +children. Patience and work both are needed: will not my dear boy help +me? I know he will, and our Emily; God give to me the help I need from +these two young hearts," and she held out her hands to us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>I said "Oh, Clara!" and sank on the floor beside her, put my head in her +lap, and let the tears fall as they would, unmindful of all else save my +dear, beautiful friend. Louis sat on the other side of her with his arm +around her waist, and her head lay on his shoulder. The curtain of the +evening slowly fell, and in slumbers I drew her thoughts close to my +heart, Aunt Hildy's "God help us" floating like music through my +dreams.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE NEW FAITH.</h3> + + +<p>"Emily will help me!" Oh, how those words haunted me! I would help her; +yes, if I could, but when should I ever stop making blunders, when +should I lose the impetuous nature that drove me too often on the beach +of thought, with shipwrecked sentences that fell far short of my +thought, and expressed nothing of my real self. Why was it, as I grew +older, I came to realize, that if I had been born a little later, it +would have been easier? I was standing on tip-toe trying in vain to +touch that which lay beyond my reach; of course I must be constantly +falling, and the security of growth I could not then wait for. I must +keep reaching and falling, covering myself with disappointments, while +in the hearts if not on the lips of those about me must rest the same +old words, "Emily did it."</p> + +<p>Clara says I can do something, and having grown to feel that her words +were almost prophecy, I felt sure there was something ahead, and +repeated again and again, "Emily will do it." Mr. Benton was looking +beyond his depth, and still did not hesitate to try and swim across the +difficult waters that lay between himself and Clara, and before Louis +left us, something occurred which I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> must tell about. I had been called +over the hill on an errand, was obliged to go alone, and was then +detained somewhat, and when I came back, Louis met me, and taking my +arm, said:</p> + +<p>"Walk slowly, I have something I must say."</p> + +<p>I thought of Clara at once, and it was a true impression, for he said:</p> + +<p>"My little mother is in trouble; I have heard what I would never know if +I could avoid it—Professor Benton has been telling her that he loves +her. He has forced this upon her, I know, for these are his words to +which I unwillingly listened: 'Why, Mrs. Desmonde, do you shun me, why +turn you eyes whenever they meet my own, why call Miss Minot to your +side when an opportunity presents for us to be alone together? I cannot +be baffled in my love for you; no woman has ever before touched the +secret spring of my heart, no voice has ever reached my soul—yours is +music to me; and, Mrs. Desmonde, I need great love and sympathy; I am +not all I want to be; my lot in life has been in some respects very hard +to bear; I never knew my mother's love, and when old enough to desire +the companionship man needs, I had an experience which killed the flower +of my affection—I thought its roots were as dead as its leaves, until I +met you. Oh! Mrs. Desmonde, do you not, can you not return this feeling? +My life is in your hands.' It was hard for my little mother, and I stood +riveted to the spot, Emily, expecting to be obliged to enter and catch +her fainting form, for I knew in my heart each word was a thorn, but +here is her reply:"</p> + +<p>"Professor Benton, I had hoped to be spared this pain,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> I have avoided +you, because I could do no other way. I am so sorry! I can never, never +love you as you desire! I have a husband—my Louis Robert waits for me +in heaven, and he is my constant guide here. He will always be near me +while I tarry, and I have no love to give you in return for yours. I can +be your good friend always, I can help you as one mortal helps another. +I can call you a brother, and I can be your sister; but do not dream +falsely. I shall not learn to love you; my heart is full, and it is +through no fault of mine that you have raised false hopes in your bosom, +but I am very sorry—more sorry than I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Is that all, and is it final?" I heard him say.</p> + +<p>"It is all that I can ever say," she said.</p> + +<p>"I drew back from the door, and, passing through your middle room, came +into my own, in time to see Professor Benton step into Halbert's studio. +I entered then the room where little mother sat, and held her in my arm +awhile, saying no word to her of what I had heard. She was not +exhausted, and after a little time I left her to come and meet you. Tell +me, Emily, if you know about it—has she said anything to you?"</p> + +<p>Of course I told him all, and then added her, "'Say no word to Louis,' +but under these circumstances she could not blame me, could she, Louis?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Emily," he replied, "but what can we do?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," I said, and he added:</p> + +<p>"Do you like Professor Benton?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot see anything in him to like very much, Louis," I replied; +"when I met him in Hal's sick-room, he seemed really beautiful. His eyes +looked so large and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> dreamy, and he had such sympathy for Hal, and I +like him now, for that, but otherwise he jars me so I say all sorts of +uncomfortable things, and his talk always irritates me. No, I could not +imagine your mother loving him, for she is so much better than I am, and +I could never love him in the world."</p> + +<p>Louis' hold on my arm tightened, and he said:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Miss Emily, you are beginning to know yourself, you are learning to +understand others, and I am glad," and to his eyes came again that +earnest look, "for I long to be known by you; I have brought you a +Christmas present, and the New Year is at hand before I give it to +you—wear this in the dark, until your heart says you love me, then let +the light fall on it."</p> + +<p>He put a box in my hand, and when I opened it in my own room I found a +small and finely linked chain of gold, and attached to it a locket +holding Louis' picture. One side was inlaid with blue enamel in a spray +of flowers, and on the other the name "Emily." My heart told me that I +did love Louis, and then there came so many changeful thoughts, that I +felt myself held back, and could not express myself to Louis.</p> + +<p>This evening was spent in our middle room, and Mr. Benton, being obliged +to write letters, was not with us. Of this I was glad, for it gave +relief to the three who were cognizant of what had passed. The subject +of universal salvation was again brought before us, and this time my +mother expressed herself greatly in favor of giving the new thoughts a +hearing, and to my utter astonishment and pleasure, my father proposed +going sometime to hear the Reverend Hosea Ballou, who was then +preach<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>ing over his society in Boston, and came sometimes to preach for +the few in a town lying to the north and east of us. There were no +houses of worship dedicated to the Universalists nearer than the one I +speak of, and though it was a ride of ten miles, that was nothing for a +span of good horses.</p> + +<p>"When can we go?" rose to my lips quickly.</p> + +<p>"Are you also desirous of hearing him, Emily?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!" I said, "I want something beside the fire of torment to +think of. You know the Bible says, 'He that is guilty in one point, is +guilty of the whole.' If that is true, father, I am not safe; but if +these new thoughts are truths, I am; and can you blame me if I want to +know about it. I am afraid I knew very little of what I needed when I +was united to our church."</p> + +<p>"It is not singular, Emily," my father said, "and I desire only to help +you, if you really want to know. We need not fear to investigate, for if +the doctrines are erroneous, they are too far below our own standard of +truth to harm even the soles of our feet, and if they are true, it must +be they lie beyond us, and we shall feel obliged to reach for them, and +be glad of the opportunity. Halbert, have you nothing to say? are you to +go with us? the three-seated wagon will hold us all."</p> + +<p>"Yes," added mother, "and we will take our dinner and go to cousin +Belinda Sprague's to eat it."</p> + +<p>Halbert looked a little puzzled and then replied:</p> + +<p>"I guess the rest of you may go the first time, and I will stay at home +with Will (Mr. Benton), for I know he would as soon stay at home as +go."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then said Ben, "Let me go, father, I'm young and I need starting right; +don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>We all laughed at this, and my father looked with fondness at his boy, +as he answered:</p> + +<p>"Ben, it shall be, and a week from next Sabbath, the day, if nothing +happens."</p> + +<p>I believe it was a relief to my father, this hope that there might be +something more beautiful beyond than he had dared to dream; and Clara +was absorbed with the prospect of his getting hold of the truth, which, +though unnamed by her, had always been, it seemed, her firm belief. She +said nothing to me of what had occurred, and the days wore on until the +morning came when Louis said "good-bye," and left us for school.</p> + +<p>Directly after his departure, Aunt Phebe (mother's sister) wrote us she +was coming to visit us for a few days. Of this I was glad, and I +rehearsed to Clara her virtues, told her of her early years, the sorrows +which she had borne, the working early and late to maintain the little +family of four children (for at the age of twenty-eight she was left +widowed and alone in a strange city). Her native town was not far +distant from the one in which we lived, and when she came I expected a +treat, for together these two sisters unshrouded the past, took off the +veil of years that covered their faces, and walked back, hand in hand, +to their childhood—its years, its loves, its friends, its home—and it +was never an old tale to me.</p> + +<p>I loved to hear of grandfather Lewis, who went as minister's waiter in +the War of Seventy-six, going with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> old Minister Roxford, whose name has +been, and is still to be handed down through generations as a good old +man of Connecticut. Grandfather was only sixteen years at that time, and +though he saw no hard service, but was dressed up in ruffled shirt, +etc., received through life a pension of ninety-six dollars per year, +having enlisted for a period of six months, whereas some of his friends, +who saw hard service, and came out of the contest maimed for life, +received nothing.</p> + +<p>Grandfather was of French extraction, and he boasted largely of this, +but I could not feel very proud of the fact that he traded with the +British, carrying to them hams, dried beef, poultry, and anything in +shape of edibles, receiving in return beautiful silk stockings, bandanna +handkerchiefs, and the tea that the old ladies were so glad to get. +Several times he was nearly captured, and once thrust into a stone wall, +in the town of Stratford, a quantity of silk stockings, with which his +pockets were filled. He was so closely pursued at that time, that he lay +down close to a large log and covered himself with dead leaves, and one +of his pursuers, a moment after, stood on that very log and peered into +the distance, saying, "I wonder which track the scamp took."</p> + +<p>I must not tell you more about this grandfather, whose history filled me +full of wonder, but must hasten on to meet Aunt Phebe, who came +according to appointment, and found a warm reception. She had a fine +face, was tall and well-formed, her hair was a light-brown, and her eyes +a bright, pure blue; she had a pleasant mouth and evenly set teeth, and +she was a sweet singer. She is yet living, and sings to-day a "Rose tree +in full blooming" with as sweet a cadence as when I was a child.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>Clara was drawn toward her, and brought some of her best thoughts to the +surface; read to her some of her own little poems, and wrote one for +her, speaking tenderly of the past and hopefully of the future. Aunt +Phebe had a nature to appreciate the beautiful, and ought herself to +have been given the privilege of a later day, that she might have +expressed her own good and true thoughts. She was a member of the +Baptist church, and while we had no fear of condemnation from her lips, +we knew she had not as yet tested this new thought that was now +agitating our minds. She said she would like to go with us to hear +"Father Ballou," as he was called by the Universalist people, and Clara, +said:</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. ——, the day is coming when all shall see and rejoice at +the knowledge they have long desired; this will be the real fruit that +has been promised by the hope of the soul for years; and it is not new, +it is an old, old truth, and for this reason there will be less +preparation needed to accept it. The soil is ready, and the hand of the +age will drop the seed in the furrows which the years have made."</p> + +<p>"This talk is as good as a sermon," said Aunt Phebe, "I would like to +hear you every week. Learning the work of wisdom is not an easy task, +and all these thoughts come as helping hands to us; we are never too old +to learn."</p> + +<p>Aunt Phebe was free from all vanity; she dressed simply, and was truly +economical. Her hands were never idle; she had always something to do; +and during the few days she spent with us she insisted on helping. A +huge basket of mending yielded to her deft hands, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> patches and darns +were made without number. These were among our great necessities, for, +as in every other household, garments were constantly wearing out, and +stitches breaking that must be again made good, and nothing could be +appreciated more than her services in this direction. Mother felt, +however, that she was doing wrong to let her work at all.</p> + +<p>"Phebe," I heard her say one afternoon, as they sat in our middle room +together, "you have stitches enough to take at home, and I feel +condemned to see you so busy here. You should have every moment to rest +in; I wish you could stay longer, for I believe when these carpet rags +are cut you will find nothing more to do, and then we could rest and +talk together. How I wish Sally and Polly and Thirza could be with us, +and our brothers too! Have you heard from Peter lately?"</p> + +<p>"I heard only a few days before I left; one of the girls came down, and +she said Peter was well, but oh, how they miss their own mother! Peter's +first wife was the best mother I ever knew; those little girls looked as +neat as pins, with their blue and iron-rust dresses, and she taught them +to do so much—not half do it, but to finish what they began. I think of +her with reverence, for her ways were in accordance with her ideas of +duty, and she was no ordinary woman. It seems too bad she could not have +lived."</p> + +<p>And Aunt Phebe sighed, and then added:</p> + +<p>"You ask what makes me work? Work has been my salvation. In the needs of +others I have forgotten my own terrible experiences, and although the +first time I washed a bedquilt I said 'I can never do that thing +again,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> I have since then washed many; and done also the thousand kinds +of work that only a woman can do. Force of circumstances has made me +self-reliant, and so long as I can work I am not lonely, and if there +comes a day when the labor of my hands is less needed, I shall be only +too glad to take the time for reading I so much desire."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Phebe!" said my mother, "I often think of you as you were when +young; slender and lithe as a willow, with a cheek where the rose's +strength did not often gather; and then I think of all you have done +since, and looking at you to-day, you seem to me a perfect marvel; for +you have lived, and borne hard work and sorrow, and your face is fresh, +your fingers taper as of old, and on your cheek is the tinge of pink +that becomes you so well. You are only five years younger than I, and +you look every day of twenty; you may outlive me—yes, I'm sure you +will."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a few moments, and then Aunt Phebe said:</p> + +<p>"Speaking of work makes me think to tell you about an old colored man +who came to my door last winter. He was so cold he could hardly talk, +but seeing some coal before the door wanted to put it in for me. I asked +him in, and he grew warmer after a little. I made a cup of hot +composition tea for him, and while he was putting in the coal hunted up +an old coat that one of our neighbors had given me for carpet rags, and +when the poor old man told me his story I felt like proclaiming it to +the city. Never mind that now. He lived through the winter and did not +freeze, and last summer found considerable work, but I have thought for +some time how valuable his help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> would be to William, my father, and I +wonder if he could find a place to live in here among you. His name is +Matthias Jones, and he is faithful though slow, but the constant +dropping, you know, wears a stone. I like the old man, and you would, +for he is honest and ambitious. He might have owned a farm himself if +the evil of slavery had not crushed under its foot the seeds of growth +that lay within him. Mr. Dutton has helped to get him work."</p> + +<p>"Phebe," said mother, interrupting her, "are you going to marry that Mr. +Dutton?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say," said Aunt Phebe, and their conversation closed, for +father came in and supper-time drew near.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>MATTHIAS JONES.</h3> + + +<p>Father was consulted regarding the coming of Matthias Jones, and he +thought it would be a good plan, for our farming people had often cause +to hire help, and it had always been scarce, since it was only in the +busiest time there were such needs.</p> + +<p>Aunt Phebe and myself were delegated to go over to the house of Jacob +Lattice and Plint Smith, who were the only colored people among us, and +who lived about a mile to the west of our house. We thought there might +be a chance for a home among them, and so it proved.</p> + +<p>Jacob Lattice's wife had no room; "hardly enough for themselves," Mrs. +Lattice said depreciatingly, "much less any place for strange folks"; +but Mrs. Smith, known to us all as Aunt Peg, gave us a little hope. She +had a peculiar way of addressing people, and sometimes her talk seemed +more like the grunting of words strangely mixed. When she saw Aunt Phebe +with me, her face radiated in smiles (and as her mouth was large, these +smiles were broad grins) and, jerking her small wool-covered head while +she hastily smoothed out her long apron, she said:</p> + +<p>"Come in, Miss Minot."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is my aunt,—you have seen her before," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Yes, seen her to meetin' with ye; come in, mam," and she dropped a low +curtsey and set forward two chairs, whose sand-scoured seats were white +and spotless, for Aunt Peg was a marvel of neatness.</p> + +<p>I told our errand, and with one of her queer looks, she said:</p> + +<p>"Is he clean?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Phebe replied, "Why, I think the old man does the best he can, a +lone man can't do as well as a woman, you know."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's that ground room of mine he kin have if Plint is willin', +and if he ain't, for that matter; for Plint himself arn't good for +nothin' but fiddlin', and you see if I want bread I get it. I s'pose +wimmen ought to be a leetle worth mindin', 'specially if they get their +own bread," and a look of satisfaction crept over her face as if pleased +with this thought.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Aunt Phebe, "I would like to see the room, and also know +the price of it; of course, you must have some pay for it, and then, if +Matthias should be ill, or prove troublesome to you in any way, it will +not be so hard for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the pay, bless the Master, mam, I never get pay for anything +hardly, not even the work I did up to Deacon Grover's for years! I jist +wish I had that money in a chist in the cellar. He kep' it for me, he +said, an' so he did, an' he keeps it yet, and—oh! but the room, come +right along, this way, mam," and we followed her steps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>She led us out of the little door, which in the summer was covered with +those dear old cypress vines my mother used to have, and though the +lattice was made by her own hands of rude strips, when it was well +covered with the cypress intergrown with the other vines, there was +great beauty round that little door.</p> + +<p>When Clara saw it, and I told her of its construction, and remarked on +Aunt Peg's love for flowers, she said:</p> + +<p>"Ah, Emily, it is typical of our nature! We do seem so rudely made in +the winter of our ignorance, and through the lattice of our untutored +thoughts the cold winds of different opinions blow and we are troubled. +But when the summer of our better nature dawns, and the upturned soil +catches seed, even though dropped by a careless hand, the vines of love +will cover all our coldness, and the scarlet and white blossom of our +beautiful thoughts appear among the leaves. Aunt Peg's earthly hand made +the lattice, and the love of her undying soul planted the cypress +seeds."</p> + +<p>I thought of it this cold winter's day, and told Aunt Phebe, as we +passed out of the door, how many flowers she had in summer and how +pretty the vines were. Aunt Peg heard me, and smiled graciously. Then we +went around to a side door, which opened into the ground room, as she +called it.</p> + +<p>Her house was on a bank, or at least its main part, and while a valley +lay on one side, the ground rose upon the other. The door-sill of this +room was, therefore, even with both the ground and the floor, and on +either side of it were two windows, both door and windows facing the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +south. The sides and back of the room had no windows, the back partition +being that which divided it from Aunt Peg's little cellar; and the east +and west sides were hedged in by the bank which came sloping down from +both front and back doors.</p> + +<p>"This is a very comfortable little room," said Aunt Phebe. "Now, what +will be the rent?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if you are bent on payin', I don't want to say less than ten +dollars a year."</p> + +<p>"I would call it twelve, and that will be one dollar a month, Mrs. +Smith."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, mam, it'll be a great help; I have the sideache sometimes, +and can't do nothing for a day or so, not even get the wool rolls off my +wheel, and that is jist play when I'm smart: he may come neat or not +neat, Plint or no Plint," and the bargain was finished, and Matthias +Jones was to appear on, or near, the first of March.</p> + +<p>My rehearsal of our visit at the dinner-table provoked great mirth, and +Mr. Benton smiled on me more kindly than ever before, but I could not +but think, whenever I looked at him, that he must die pretty soon, +because Clara could not love him, and he had told her his life was +dependent on her love.</p> + +<p>The days of Aunt Phebe's visit drew too quickly to their close, and the +time to go came on a bright sun-shiny morning. Father carried her to the +railway station; we filled a large trunk with the farm products, so +welcome to those who live in cities. Aunt Hildy put in a bundle the +contents of which she did not even want me to guess. She was a firm +friend to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> Aunt Phebe, and shook her hand when she left, as if loath to +let it go, and said:</p> + +<p>"Come again as soon as you can, and if I am in my own little nest, come +and stay with me, and we'll have some more good sensible talk that helps +our wings to grow; we are only covered with pin-feathers so far."</p> + +<p>Aunt Phebe appreciated this good old soul, and said, earnestly, "God +bless you, Mrs. Patten," as my father started the horses.</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy watched them until they were out of sight, saying as she came +in, "That woman will have an easier time before she dies. My Bible says, +'He that is faithful over a few things shall be made ruler over many.' +She will have a home of her own, jest as true as preachin' is preachin', +Mrs. Minot."</p> + +<p>"She ought to," said mother. "May the day be hastened!" and again that +never-to-be-neglected work claimed our attention.</p> + +<p>Since Louis' departure Clara had had several "pale" days, as she called +them. After Aunt Phebe left us, she seemed to grow weak. I felt worried, +and could not refrain from asking her what troubled her. She turned her +beautiful eyes full on me, and putting both her hands in mine, said:</p> + +<p>"I know that Louis heard it, and that he told you, and your secret +sympathy has been a strength to me. It will pass over, Emily, but +Professor Benton is not satisfied. He will not be content that I may not +answer his demand for love. Yes, Emily, his words were soft, but a blade +was beneath them and I could feel that it would have cut<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> my +heart-strings. I thank our Father that I do not love him; I should be so +starved. Emily, I can love your brother,—no, no, not with that best +love," she said quickly, noting, I suppose, the look of wonder in my +eyes, "but I can have that love for him that is founded on great respect +and faith in his pure heart. It is only their art draws them together; +they are not alike, and they will not come too near. The days will +sunder them, and it will be better that they should. But, Emily, I must, +I fear, call Louis back to give me strength. He is a great help to me. +On his heart as on his arm I can rest myself, and I need him so much. I +cannot tell you now, but you will know some time when you are no longer +as strong as now, how the spirit feels the darts that are shot from the +mind of another, and bury their poisoned points in the quivering life."</p> + +<p>She looked so weak as she spoke, her face was so transparently white, +that I trembled with fear.</p> + +<p>That night we slept together—she alone slept, however, for my eyes were +open, their lids refusing to close until after midnight, and it was long +after that hour before I fully lost consciousness. I felt wretched the +next day in both body and mind, and my spirit was roused within me.</p> + +<p>"I will avert it," I said to myself—thinking first to ask mother how, +and afterward saying aloud "No, I'll do it myself, Emily will do it," +and the harder I thought the faster I worked.</p> + +<p>I never washed the dishes so quickly; milkpans were despatched speedily +to the buttery shelves, and at last Aunt Hildy, who was kneading bread, +stopped, and looking at me, said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What on airth are you going to do? you work as if you was a gettin' +reddy to go to a weddin', or somethin'—Is there doins on hand among the +folks?"</p> + +<p>"No, mam," I replied, "but I have been so full of thoughts I could not +help hurrying."</p> + +<p>"I hope you're on the right track, Emily; sometimes ideas that stir one +up so aint jest the kind we ought to have."</p> + +<p>"I'm on the track of truth, Aunt Hildy, and that is the right track."</p> + +<p>"Well, it ought to be, but sometimes truth has to wait for sin to get by +before it can move an inch. I've seen it so many a time," and a sort of +sigh fluttered to her lips, but the look of resolution that followed it +closely gave it no time to linger, and the lines about her mouth grew +firm as she resumed her bread-kneading.</p> + +<p>Clara was better during this day, and while she took her after-dinner +nap, I came quickly down into Hal's studio, and seated myself in his +chair with a book.</p> + +<p>Hal was in town all day on business, and I expected Mr. Benton to be +there, and he appeared, saying:</p> + +<p>"You look very comfortable, Miss Minot; am I an intruder?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, you are the person I wish of all others to talk to." Where was +my guardian angel then?</p> + +<p>"In need of advice, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, not at all; I have some to give, however," and his eyes opened +widely, as he seated himself almost directly opposite me on a lounge, +taking a very artistic position, with his head resting on his hand, and +his arm supported by that of the lounge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Proceed, Miss Minot, for I assure you I am much in need of comfort, and +if you had been ready before, I might have been thankful to receive it."</p> + +<p>I had begun more abruptly than I meant, and already felt I was stepping +on dangerous ground. I thought for an instant I would turn it aside in a +joke, then Clara's pale face rose before, and I said impetuously:</p> + +<p>"I came to speak for another, though without her authority or knowledge. +I desire to ask you not to trouble Clara, by persisting in your suit."</p> + +<p>He started to his feet as if a hand had struck him, walked a few steps, +and then turned toward me with a blanched face, and eyes that seemed to +be leaping from their sockets; he was struggling between anger and +policy. The latter prevailed, as he said:</p> + +<p>"You are much interested in me; you fear that I shall have a friend. Is +that it?"</p> + +<p>"I suggested nothing of that kind; I fear my lovely Clara may die." He +smiled derisively.</p> + +<p>"Am I then such a monster that I am feared? Really, Miss Minot, your +picture of me is rather different from anything I have before known."</p> + +<p>"I ought to have known you would not understand me. It would have been +equal folly for me to try to explain Clara's nature to you, for you do +not and cannot appreciate it."</p> + +<p>"We are getting into deep water," he interrupted, but I continued:</p> + +<p>"I have never called you a monster and have treated you as well as I +knew how to. You were my brother's friend, I have not doubted your +esteem for Clara, for how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> can any see her without loving and respecting +her; that is not the point. Your feelings, she has told you, she cannot +reciprocate; why can you not respect her feelings, even at the sacrifice +of your own? If you would do this, Mr. Benton, you would be stronger."</p> + +<p>"Miss Minot, you are braver than I imagined. Let me disarm your fear; I +have no intention of intruding myself where I am not desired. How you +came in possession of these interesting facts is a mystery (insinuating, +I felt, that I had been eavesdropping). Nevertheless I admit them all, +and I admire you greatly. You are, however, as impulsive as a changeful +sea, and you made little preparation for this conversation. Allow me to +suggest that in affairs of the heart you should be a little less stormy. +I am your friend, and I say this in kindness."</p> + +<p>"I thank you, sir; you have lived longer than I have, and I know by the +expression in your eye to-day that you can, if you choose, govern all +the love in your nature at the will of your intellect; I cannot, and I +never want to; I like to be impulsive, I like to be true, I hate +policy." As I spoke, my eyes were, I know, like dark fires.</p> + +<p>He looked like a man of marble as he said, "Your fears are ungrounded; +you might have spared yourself this trouble," and turning, left me.</p> + +<p>"There, 'Emily did it,' and didn't do it all," I said to myself. "Now he +will be more determined than ever, Clara will die, Louis will hate me, +and I shall be bereft doubly. Oh! dear, dear! Emily mistakes—my name +should be." Then the tears came and I sat with my face buried in my +hands, and cried like a child. A hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> touched me, an arm crept round +me, "Hal," I said, starting.</p> + +<p>"No," said Wilmur Benton in his sweeter tone, "It is I."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I screamed almost, making an attempt to rise, but his arm held me +firmly as he said:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Miss Minot, if I have caused you pain—I spoke harshly, I +fear."</p> + +<p>"You are forgiven," I said, "let me go."</p> + +<p>"You are my friend still?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," I said quickly, "do let me go," and I fled to my own room, +and endeavored to wash away the stains of tears, to make my appearance +down stairs, for it was already late and mother would be looking for me.</p> + +<p>I felt unlike myself and feared all would discern my uneasiness. Mr. +Benton had, I knew, a mistaken idea, and his polite attentions were +torture to me; he evidently thought my tears needed his commiseration, +whereas, I was only sorry I had not delivered a forcible speech in +Clara's behalf, and caused him (as I had intended) to realize the +necessity of a change in his conduct toward her. I expected him to be +vexed with me and was willing he should be, if it would relieve Clara. +Now, however, he seemed to feel I was entitled to his sympathy. There +was one thought, however, that gave relief; while he was occupying +himself with me, Clara would not be annoyed. Mother said she had a +basket to send to Aunt Peg, and I volunteered to take it. Mr. Benton +smilingly said:</p> + +<p>"Let me accompany you, Miss Minot, it will be quite dark ere you +return."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid, thank you, and it will be moonlight,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> then thinking +of Clara I added, "still I might encounter an assassin on the road."</p> + +<p>This did not help the matter any, and only furthered the mistaken +thought of Mr. Benton; nevertheless for the sake of that dear friend, +for whom I knew I could have borne anything, I had, after all, a secret +delight, in being misunderstood. I was a willing martyr to a just cause, +and we started together.</p> + +<p>"Take my arm, Miss Minot."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, walking is second nature to me, and very easy," I replied.</p> + +<p>After walking a little further he said, "I am very glad of this +opportunity to talk with you, Miss Minot; I fear, from what I gathered +in our talk of this afternoon, your idea of me is one which I would fain +alter—it is not pleasant to feel that one is misjudged—"</p> + +<p>"I know that," I interrupted.</p> + +<p>—"And especially when the charge is a serious one. I cannot understand +why I was so feared; rude enough I must have seemed, and your first +words gave me a shock; I hardly know now how to explain it, and what I +desire is light. Pray tell me by what act of mine, you came to such an +unwarrantable conclusion."</p> + +<p>"It was no act of yours at all. Common sense, I suppose, told me you +would not be foiled if you could help it. All men are selfish."</p> + +<p>"Are not women?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," I replied, "they are foolish."</p> + +<p>"Excuse the question, but has Mrs. Desmonde complained to you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, sir," I said quickly—that was a little story and then again it was +not, I reasoned.</p> + +<p>"So I must conclude that you feared for the safety of your friend, +reading, as you thought you did, the terrible selfishness of my heart.</p> + +<p>"I guess that is about right," I said.</p> + +<p>"You admit this as a fact?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; before a judge, if you desire," I said.</p> + +<p>"That being the case, let me here say from my heart I am not as much in +love with Mrs. Desmonde as I might be, and one reason is that I find her +more and more enveloped in the strange fancies peculiar, I judge, to +herself alone."</p> + +<p>"What am I to understand from this? Strange fancies, indeed! If truth +and love are strange fancies, she is indeed enveloped. My darling Clara! +She is a light leading to the eternal city. I knew you could not +understand her."</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Minot, let me explain. I know she is graceful, and +beautiful, and truly good, but none can know positively there is an +eternal city, and I must say I do not feel interested in the dreamy +talk, which is, after all, only talk."</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" I exclaimed, "are you an infidel?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot vouch for anything beyond this life."</p> + +<p>"If I felt I could not, I'd commit suicide to-morrow."</p> + +<p>He laughed heartily at this, and, as we were at Aunt Peggy's door, could +not answer until we turned toward home, when he said:</p> + +<p>"Instead of taking my life, I desire to keep it as long as I can, and +get all the enjoyment possible on this side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> the grave. I hope I have +made myself understood, and disarmed every fear of your friendly heart."</p> + +<p>"The days will tell," I replied, and our walk at last was ended.</p> + +<p>It had been thoroughly uncomfortable to me, although he had seemed to be +enjoying every step. I went to my room that night, and in my dreams +tried to find the garden of Eden somewhere in our town, while a snake, +with eyes like Wilmur Benton's, seemed to be crawling close behind me, +and with the daybreak, I said:</p> + +<p>"That dream means something."</p> + +<p>Aunt Peg told me she should go to work and clean up the ground-room, and +if father had any old "chunks of wood he could spare, Plint could come +over and get 'em, and when that new nigger came, there'd be a prospect +awaitin'."</p> + +<p>I carried the message, and father thought it would be a good plan to +have Matthias Jones appear, as he had more wood cut in the forest than +he could haul with Ben's help, and doubtless this poor man would be glad +of the job. Mother said the room could be made ready, she thought, +inasmuch as there was an extra high-post bedstead in our attic chamber. +Aunt Hilda added, "I've got a good feather mattress to put on it, and a +straw-bed is easily fixed."</p> + +<p>So I wrote a letter to Aunt Phebe, and Plint came over for the chunks of +wood, riding back on a load of things we had gathered. When the +ground-room was ready for occupancy, it was not a cheerless place. A +nicely-made bed in its north-west corner, a deal table at the east side +of the room, two rush-bottomed chairs, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> a straight-backed rocker, +two breadths of carpet lying through its centre, the wide-mouthed +fireplace, with well-filled wood-box at its right hand,—all savored of +comfort. To cap the climax, Clara put up to the windows some half +curtains of unbleached cotton, bound with bright French red. It really +looked nice, and Aunt Peg said: "I do hope, mam, he's clean."</p> + +<p>The days sped on quickly, and Clara felt better. Mr. Benton had +evidently dropped all thought of her, and his uniformly kind treatment +of us, began, after a little, to make me feel ashamed of the suspicions +which had crossed my mind. Letters from Louis came as usual, and I wish +I could give them now—such beautifully-expressed thoughts, such tender +touches did he give to his word pictures, that I read and re-read them. +Treasures they were, and I have them all yet; not one but is too sacred +to lose. My heart grew strong in its love for him, and his thoughts were +all as hands reaching for my own.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>THE TEACHING OF HOSEA BALLOU.</h3> + + +<p>February first brought Matthias Jones. Father met him at the village, +and our curiosity which was aroused regarding this new comer, was +thoroughly gratified at his appearance. A better specimen of a southern +negro was never seen. He was above the medium size, broad-shouldered; +his hair thick and wooly, sprinkled with grey, and covering a large, +flat surface on the top of his head. His nose was of extra size, mouth +in proportion, and his eyes, which were not dull, expressed considerable +feeling, and you would know when you looked at them he was honest. His +gait was slow, slouchy as I called it, and, as he walked leisurely along +the path, Ben whispered, "My soul, what feet!" Sure enough, they seemed +to stretch back too far, and they were immense.</p> + +<p>He took supper with us, and then father and Ben both went over to his +future home with him, and introduced him to Aunt Peg and Plint. He was +to work for father, and would be over in the "mornin'," he said.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if he was a slave, Emily?" said Ben.</p> + +<p>"I think so," said I. "We will question him to-morrow if we get a +chance," and we did, for the day was stormy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> and father did not go to +the woods, but kept Matthias at work in the barn cleaning up, etc. About +four o'clock his work was finished, and we invited him to come in and +sit awhile.</p> + +<p>"Now, Ben," I said, and we seated ourselves for a conference.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jones," said I, "you came from the South, did you?"</p> + +<p>"'Pears like I did, Miss, an' it's a mighty cool country yere; I'm nigh +froze in de winter, I is sartin."</p> + +<p>"Were you a slave?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," and the old man gave a long sigh.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind telling us about it? Ben and I never saw a person before +from the South."</p> + +<p>"Never did? There's a heap on 'em, wud 'jes like ter see ye. Long time +awaitin', but de promise ov de Massa mus' be true," and again a +thoughtful look came over his dusky face. "I don't mind tellin' ye a +little if I ken. I was a slave in Carlina, an' I had a good massa, Miss; +a fus-rate man, but he done tuk sick an' died, an' then—wh-e-ew," and +he gave a long, low whistle, "thar cum sich a time thar; de ole woman +she done no nuthin' 'bout de biznis, an' de big son he sell all de +niggers an' get <i>all</i> de money, an' dars whar my trubbel begin. De nex' +massa had de debbil fur his father, sure; nothin' go rite; made me go +an' marry, fus thing, an' to a gal I didn't like, nohow. Little niggers +come along, an' I done bes' I cud by 'em, but what cud I do? Nothin' at +all; an' fus thing I knew—he'd done gone an' sold ebery one ob dat +family, and den he mus' hab me marry agin. Dis secon' marriage was +better'n that; fur I did like de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> gal mighty well. 'Pears like we's +gwine to take sum comfort, and when we'd had de meetins to our cabin, +oh! how we did jes pray fur dat freedom we hear'm tell 'bout—pray mos' +too loud, for dat old Mas'r Sumner tink we's alltogeder too happy, an' +den, he up and sold dat pretty gal ob ourn, what was jes risin' uv her +fourth year, Miss, an' as pretty as could be. Dis broke my wife's heart, +an' den he sold one more to a trader; and not long fur de wife an' two +last' chilun was gone. Den I jes swore rite up, Miss—rite into dat +Masr's face an' eyes—'I'm neber gwine to hab no more chilun,' an' he +says to me, 'Matt, you got to do jes as I say,' an' I swear agin, an' he +cuss and swear, an' then, I got sich a floggin'—Miss, but I didn't +keer, an' I would never done as dat man sed, an' I 'spected to die, but +a New Orleans trader cum dat way, an' I was sold, and Mas'r Sumner said, +de las' thing, 'You'll get killed now, Matt.' 'All right, Mas'r,' I sed, +'de Lord is a waitin' an' He's a good fren, too,' an' off I went. Dar we +wur in a pen in New Orleans, waitin' fur we didn't know what, an' on +come a fever an' dat trader know he's got to die. Den, to make peace wid +de Lord at the las't jump he done giv us all freedom, an' money to git +us into dat great city ov New York; an' mine lasted me clean up to Misse +Hungerford's door (Aunt Phebe), an' las' night, when I see dat nice room +over thar an' that good fire, oh! my," and the old man buried his face +in his hands and wept like a child, then looking up, he said, "Ef I cud +only ahad my chilun in thar; 'pears de Lord Himself might ahelped me a +minnit sooner—but dey is gone, all done gone, an' 'taint no use."</p> + +<p>"You may meet them again, Mr. Jones; I hope we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> shall know each other +there in that better country, and if we do you'll surely know and find +them."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Miss, that's the bery thing, it takes a load right off yere, when I +think about it," and he laid his hand on his heart, "but I'd better be +shufflin' off home, an' I'll tell you a heap more sometime," and as he +went through the yard, I heard him singing "dat New Je-ru-sa-lem," +prolonging the last word, as if it was too musical to lose.</p> + +<p>I told it all to Clara, and she said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Emily, is he not one of God's children, and is it not true that all +have that within which points to better things? How could the soul of +this poor negro stay within his body if it were not for this hope that +covers his troubles, and, like a lantern-light, throws a gleam into the +path which lies before? I hope he will live now in comfort and die in +peace. He must have been sent to you. Next time let me listen to his +story." And she did, for the next evening we walked together over to his +home, and spent two hours pleasantly enough.</p> + +<p>Clara could not rest until sure of just how he could get along there, +and finally made an arrangement with Aunt Peg to give him his meals when +he should be there. The voice of the old man—he looked more than sixty +years, but said his age was fifty, I think he did not know—quivered +with emotion, as he said:</p> + +<p>"Thank yer, mam, thank yer kindly, I'll tote a load forty miles for ye +any day, and I kin tote pretty 'harbaneous' loads too."</p> + +<p>"Never mind that, Mr. Jones, I like to see you comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Strange talk, mam," he said; "these yere ole ears<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> been more used to, +'git up thar, yer lazy nigger, this yere cottin mus be got into de +market.'"</p> + +<p>He proved a valuable acquisition to my father, and before this month of +February, whose beginning brought him to us, had passed, father said to +mother:</p> + +<p>"I hardly see how I could get on without Matthias. He is so trusty, and +he is smart too. If the poor fellow had been given half a chance, he +would have made a good business man, for he has good ideas as to +bringing things around in season."</p> + +<p>"Truth is stranger than fiction," said mother. "Two classes of society +have been perfectly represented in those who have been brought to us +during this last year."</p> + +<p>"How strangely things work, and there seem to be ways under them all +that will work out in spite of us," said father.</p> + +<p>The Sabbath on which we had expected to go to hear the Reverend Hosea +Ballou preach proved cold and rainy, and a month would elapse ere he +came again. We were impatient waiters, but the time came at last, on the +Sabbath after the arrival of Matthias, and he was to come over and +attend to the early milking, while Hal and Mr. Benton would have supper +ready for us on our return.</p> + +<p>That day was to me like a never-to-be-forgotten sunrise. Although gleams +of light had before this crossed my vision, never had so radiant a +morning of perception opened the door of my soul. New yet old, unknown +yet longed for, those words fell like golden sun-rays into the room of +my understanding; they bathed me with light, and baptized me with +tenderness, while I stood at the fount of living inspiration. That grand +old man, then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> about seventy-two years of age, talked to the assembled +congregation from this text: "For we know that if our earthly house of +this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God; an house not +made with hands, eternal in the heavens" (Second Corinthians, fifth +chapter and first verse). It was all as natural as a part of himself +could be, and he was a power. Pure and dispassionate, the plea he made +rested on the ground of revealed truth. He told us of what the history +of the past furnished, and carried us clear on into the life beyond. +"The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life; as in Adam all die, so +in Christ shall all be made alive."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me then, and still seems, that he spoke with a power that +was divine. The tide of earnest thought and feeling that carried him +with his subject out on the depth, carried also his hearers, and we were +shown the way to the port of eternal life. Oh, how he strengthened me! +His touching invocation reached, as it seemed, the very doors of heaven +and swung them wide open, and when the people joined in singing the good +old hymn, written by Sebastian Streeter, whose first verse runs as +follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What glorious tidings do I hear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From my Redeemer's tongue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can no longer silence bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll burst into a song.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I cried almost aloud for great joy. My father and mother were moved, and +when they saw my tears united their own. To our great surprise, after +the service we learned that the professor was the guest of our cousin,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +Belinda Sprag, and at her house after dinner I had an opportunity to say +to him:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ballou, call me your child, for you have to-day baptized me. I am a +Universalist, I know, for I love your doctrine."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my daughter," was his reply. "God finds His own through +time. May your young heart be made strong, and your life blossom with +roses that have no thorns."</p> + +<p>That was great honor to me; the touch of that hand on my head; those +words addressed to me. We all went home, having had a feast of good +things, and our blessed Clara, who had been the means of leading us to +the light, sat all the way as in a dream, only saying:</p> + +<p>"I have long known it was true."</p> + +<p>Ben added his testimony to the rest.</p> + +<p>"When I die," said he, "I want that man to preach my funeral sermon, if +he will, and if he can't, I don't want any at all."</p> + +<p>Dear boy, he had a loving heart; he was born later than either Hal or +me, and had an earlier spiritual development. Is it not always so?</p> + +<p>I could not enjoy my new thoughts in silence as Clara did, and gave vent +to my theme in the strongest terms. Hal did not ridicule me at all: he +was too sensible for this, but he smiled at my strong expressions, and +said:</p> + +<p>"You will preach yourself if you keep on, and I believe you would make +converts. Your eyes are as large again as they were this morning."</p> + +<p>"Then it must improve my looks, Hal," I said. "If<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> so, I am glad, for in +that respect I have always stood in the background. My brother is an +artist, and must, of course, have the handsome face."</p> + +<p>He laughed again, and added:</p> + +<p>"He will never be ashamed of his sister, I think, and never say 'Emily +did it,' even if she turns preacher."</p> + +<p>Mr. Benton enquired—with his eyes—the meaning of those words.</p> + +<p>I answered:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Hal was forever shouting that in my earlier years at my many +mistakes, until I almost hated the sound of my own name, for I was +always doing the very things I tried not to, and I fear I have not +finished all yet. And I thought, for a little, of the wrong light in +which Mr. Benton held my strange talk with him.</p> + +<p>I was each day more troubled regarding this, and especially so, since I +had no one to talk with about it. Clara I must not tell, and I had +resolved for her sake to be misunderstood indefinitely, for if I had +failed in one point, I had gained in another. The burden was lifted from +her, and she had told me the cloud was broken and she felt better, and +added the strange words, "It may yet come near me; it seems as if a +fringe of the cloud must yet touch me: but I am relieved for the +present."</p> + +<p>I feared to worry my mother, who, during all these days, was very busy +and full of care. Aunt Hildy would hardly understand me, and as I was +waiting for something to move as it were, to make room for me to step, I +must still wait, and thought what a pity it was I had not waited in the +beginning, and then when I did move make all things plain. But then it +lay before me, around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> and within me, this strange compound of good +thought and impulsive will, and I must reach and fall until, ah! I could +not tell when I should graduate in this school.</p> + +<p>I had now power to restrain myself in many ways, and that had been given +in the days before described, when I passed from girlhood to womanhood, +but to sit satisfied and wait, I could not yet do. It seemed as if the +wings of my thought must grow, and wanted to help me fly, and I was like +a bird longing to get into the freedom that waited, and like the bird +too, did not realize that my attempts would be in vain, and I could +never get out of the cage until a hand opened its door. Therefore, full +often I battled unwisely, but I certainly came to know those times, and +never made a mistake that I did not realize just a moment too late. How +foolish it was!</p> + +<p>I prayed for strength, and after the baptism of Mr. Ballou's preaching, +I thought, "This will help to make me stronger; now I shall make fewer +mistakes."</p> + +<p>This was a comfort and a light before me, but my heart sank a little, +thinking I might have penance to do for those already committed,—coming +events cast their shadows before.</p> + +<p>So full of this thought my heart grew, that I asked Aunt Hildy one day +if she ever felt trouble before it came, and if that feeling had ever +helped her to avoid any part of what was to come.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she,—she was coring and paring apples for pies,—taking up +the towel and wiping one apple three or four times over in an absent +way, "Well, Emily, I've had a host of troubles in my day. They began +early, perhaps they'll end late, but there is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> one thing, the things we +expect are agoin' to kill us, most allus turn out like the shadder of a +gate post. You know the shadder sometimes will be clean across the road, +but when you find the post itself 'taint more'n five feet high. Then +again the things we don't expect 'll come some morning like a great +harricane, and kill the marigolds of the heart in just a minit."</p> + +<p>I was sorry for her sake I had asked the question, for I knew there was +something she thought of that pained her dear old heart, and I kissed +her wrinkled cheek and said:</p> + +<p>"I hope you will always be with us, and trouble have no part in the +matter."</p> + +<p>"There, there, child, don't talk so; never mind kissin' my old face +neither, I've allus said it only made it worse to think of it, and I've +shut up my heart tight and done the best I could as it comes along. When +I get in that new body I shall have over there," and her tearful eyes +were looking upward then, "perhaps I can hope to have some love that'll +touch that empty spot."</p> + +<p>I turned to my work and left Aunt Hildy with the shadows of the past +clinging about her, her feelings being too sacred for the gaze even of a +friend. Every heart knoweth its bitterness, I thought, and secretly +wondered if every heart had to bleed a little here, holding some sorrow +close to itself. If so, our duty in life would ever be a struggle, +whereas it seemed to me the world was so beautiful, and if every life +could reflect this beauty, all would be easy, and the pleasure of +well-doing be always at hand.</p> + +<p>Aunt Peg said 'twas easy enough to preach, but hard work to practise. I +began to realize it a little, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> teacher who gave me the most +practical illustrations was myself.</p> + +<p>I wrote a long letter to Louis, telling him of our going to hear Mr. +Ballou preach, and of Matthias' coming among us, and I felt like making +him my confessor, and wanted to tell him all about the frantic endeavor +I had made for Clara's sake; but my letter was long enough when I felt +this impulse, and I thought I could talk it all over with him when he +came, and concluded to wait. And here is another lesson, for me to stop +and reflect on. As time proved, that impulse was right, and I should +have followed its guidance, while the sober second thought which I +obeyed and of which I felt proud, led me to just the opposite of what I +ought to have done. How was I to find myself out? If I yielded to +impulse I was so often wrong, and in that instance I should certainly +have been impulsive. Again comes in the text, "the ways of life are past +comprehending."</p> + +<p>Mr. Benton improved every opportunity to talk with me, and while I did +not like the man at first, I became gradually interested in what he +said; and when, in confidence, he informed me that Hal was in love with +Mary Snow, I had a secret joy at receiving his confidence. He was +eighteen years older than myself, and after my mind was settled +regarding the wrong estimate in which I had held him, I treated his +opinions with more deference than over before, and came to regard him as +a good friend to us all.</p> + +<p>I intimated to Clara one day that he was a much better man than I had +thought, and she gave me no reply, but looked on me with a light of +wonder in her eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He does not trouble you now, Clara, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Not as before, Emily."</p> + +<p>"Well, does he at all?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say I feel quite at ease, Emily dear," she replied.</p> + +<p>And I said: "It is your beautifully sensitive nature, darling; you +cannot recover the balance once lost, and the tender nerves that have +been shaken are like strings that after a touch continue to vibrate."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so, Emily, but I shall be so glad when the day comes when no +mask of smiles can cover the workings of the heart, so glad; when we can +really know each other."</p> + +<p>"Those are Louis' sentiments."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, my dear boy! he has a heart that beats as mine, Emily, and +after many days it shall come to pass that the desires of his heart +shall be gratified."</p> + +<p>Something in her tone and manner made me feel strangely; a chill crept +over me, and for a second I felt numb.</p> + +<p>It passed away, however, and through the gate of duty I found work, and +left these thoughts.</p> + +<p>When March came to us, father insisted that mother should go to Aunt +Phebe's, if we could get along without her—she had a little hacking +cough every spring, and he knew she needed the change. It was decided +that she should go and stay a month, if she could keep away from home so +long. Aunt Hildy said: "Why, Mis' Minot, go right along. Don't you take +one stitch of work with you neither. Go, and let your lungs get full of +different air, and see what that'll do for you. Take along some +ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>lasting flowers I've got, and make a tea and drink it while you're +there, and let the tea and the air do their work together."</p> + +<p>So, although it was a trial to mother to leave home, she went, and we +were to be alone. There were a good many of us, but it seemed to me, the +first week, that her place would not be filled by twenty others, and +while I enjoyed the thought of her being free from care, I walked out in +the cold March wind alone every night after supper, and let the tears +fall. If I had been indoors Clara would surely have found me. It was on +one of these walks that Mr. Benton overtook me, and passed his arm +within mine, saying:</p> + +<p>"What does this mean, Emily," he dropped "Miss Minot" soon after the +first talk, "this is the fifth time I have seen you go out at this hour +alone; what is the matter? Are you in trouble?"</p> + +<p>"And if I am," I said, "what have you to do with it?" at the same time +trying to release his arm from mine.</p> + +<p>"I have the right of a dear friend, I hope," he said, and the tears that +would keep falling forced a confession from me and provoked his +laughter, which grated on my ears at first, but he begged pardon for its +seeming rudeness, and said he was thinking only of my going over the +hills to cry, when I could have a whole house to fill with tears.</p> + +<p>We walked farther than I intended, and Matthias passed us on his way +over to his "ground room."</p> + +<p>I said, "Good evening, Mr. Jones," and he saluted me with uncovered +head, saying:</p> + +<p>"De Lord keep you, miss, till mornin'."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Realizing how far we had walked, I turned hack so suddenly that Mr. +Benton came near being pushed into the stone wall on the old road +corners. On our return he spoke of Matthias.</p> + +<p>"I don't like that fellow anyway, Emily."</p> + +<p>"Don't like him! why not, pray?"</p> + +<p>He gave a sort of derisive ejaculation, and added:</p> + +<p>"You are a little simpleton, Emily, so good and true, you take all for +gold."</p> + +<p>"Well," I replied, "Matthias is good, I know; but why do you dislike +him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he belongs to a miserable, low-lived, thievish race, and he knows +enough to be a dangerous fellow to have round. If I were you I'd not +encourage his hanging round; he'll do something to pay you for your +kindness yet."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>A REMEDY FOR WRONG-TALKING.</h3> + + +<p>I could not believe what Mr. Benton said of Matthias, and did not +refrain from speaking of it to Clara, whose opinions were golden to me, +and her reply was perfectly in accordance with my own feelings. Each +took her own route to the conclusion, but her interpretation came as an +intuitive perception, while mine was more like something which fell into +my mind with a power whenever his eyes met my own.</p> + +<p>"Emily," said Clara, "I have taken his dark hand in mine. I have come +close to his white heart, when from his lips have fallen the words +telling his history, and I would trust him everywhere. If any trouble +comes to you, Emily, trust Matthias; he is as true as truth itself, and +his soul is pure—purer, perhaps, than the souls of many who have had +great advantages, and whose forms have been molded in a more beautiful +shape. Our Father judges from within; let our judgment be like his."</p> + +<p>This was good for me to hear. I felt glad that I could sometimes come so +near to Clara's thoughts. I was greatly wrought upon by Matthias' tales +of the South; and yet he venerated the people of that country, and +said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Northerners are too cold-blooded: they didn't invite folks to have +a bite without first feelin' in their pockets to see if they could find +money there."</p> + +<p>I knew nothing from experience of Southern hospitality, but believed all +he told me, and I thought it the greater pity that such a lovely land +should be so marred with this terrible trade in lives, and I said to +Clara, when we were discussing this subject:</p> + +<p>"Is it not too bad, and does it seem possible that this great evil will +be suffered to endure forever?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Clara, "neither possible nor probable. I may not live to hear +with these earthly ears the glad news, but you, Emily, will live to see +the bond go free, and the serpent of slavery lie at the feet of America, +who will place her heel on its crushed and bleeding head. This will be, +must be, and the years will not number so very many between now and +then."</p> + +<p>"Why do you think so, Clara?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I do not think it; I know it to be true; I have long known it; it +stands by the side of the beautiful truth we have heard from the lips of +that venerated preacher, Emily, and I cannot see why we may not all be +in some measure the recipients of these truths, for they lie all around +us on every hand. Did you ever read, Emily, of the man called Dr. De +Benneville?"</p> + +<p>"Never," said I; "tell me, please, his history."</p> + +<p>"It was printed about 1783. I think I have it."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell me, Clara, a little; I cannot wait for that now."</p> + +<p>She smiled and said:</p> + +<p>"Dear child, how glad I am that you have so good a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> heart, and some day +these impulses will drive your boat on the shore of peace that lies +waiting for us on the bay of truth. But you are anxious and I will tell +you. Dr. George De Benneville was the son of a Huguenot, who fled to +England from persecution, and was employed at court by King William. His +mother was a Granville, and died soon after his birth in 1703. He was +placed on board a ship of war—being destined for the navy—at the early +age of twelve years, and received on the coast of Barbary singular +religious impressions, induced, it is said, by his beholding the +kindness of the Moors to a wounded companion. He had great doubts +regarding salvation, but after suffering for months with doubts, the +light was made clear to him, and he held to his heart the faith in a +universal restitution. His great sense of duty led him to preach, and he +commenced in the Market-house of Calais in his seventeenth year. He was +fined and imprisoned, but did not desist. He sought and found +co-laborers, and persisted two years in preaching in the woods and +mountains of France. At Dieppe he was seized, and with a friend, Mr. +Durant, condemned. Durant was hanged, and while the preparations for +beheading De Benneville were in progress, a reprieve from Louis IX +arrived, and after a long imprisonment in Paris, he was liberated +through the intercession of the Queen."</p> + +<p>"Good," I said, "she had a heart."</p> + +<p>"He then spent eighteen years in Germany preaching and devoting himself +to scientific studies, and at the age of thirty-eight he emigrated to +this country. He claimed no denominational name, but preached this +glorious truth. I can come nearer to him than any other whose history<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> I +have known, for was he not called of God, and did he not fulfil his +mission gloriously? He was ill on board the ship which brought him to +America, and when it arrived in Philadelphia, a man by the name of +Christopher Sower came on board, saying he was looking for a man who was +ill, and whom he wished to take to his house. This man Sower was also +divinely led, for he received a commandment in a dream to go seven miles +from his home in Germantown to a certain wharf in Philadelphia, and +inquire on board a ship just arrived for a man who was ill, to take him +home and to specially care for him. He hitched his horse to his +carriage, and followed the instructions of his dream."</p> + +<p>"Were these facts the doors that led you out into light?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I never read these facts, Emily, until after my vision was made clear, +and I saw the future that lives and waits for all."</p> + +<p>"Girls," called Aunt Hildy, "ef you've got through with the meetin', I +want to ask about these biscuit; I'm afraid they're going to be poor; +come look at 'em, Emily."</p> + +<p>"The biscuit are all right, Aunt Hildy. Did you hear what the preacher +said."</p> + +<p>"No, not really, heard all I could without neglectin' of my work."</p> + +<p>"She has been telling me a story of a good man. We will ask her to +preach again."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Aunt Hildy, "more'n just you and I will hear her. I +can't see how all these ideas are comin' out, and 'pears to me, it looks +as ef we'd got to meet, and have a battle somewhere before long. The +troubles are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> simmerin' over the fire of different minds, and I shall +never sell my birthright over a mess of pottage; that's jest what I +shan't do. It has stuck to me where everything else has failed, and I'm +never agoin' to let go of it."</p> + +<p>I knew to what she alluded, for our good minister had stirred the waters +with his sermons, and they were, of course, induced by his fearing the +progress of liberal thought in our midst. We had ourselves received a +sermon evidently directed at us, which described the act of going to +hear Mr. Ballou as a wrong step. Even if we had not been clear-sighted +enough to have taken the sermon to ourselves, we should have been +reminded of it by the looks of some of the congregation, who sought out +our pew with strong reproof in their eyes; among those whose eyes met +mine in this manner, I remember most distinctly Jane North and Deacon +Grover. I smiled involuntarily, and with a glance of horror at my +wickedness, they turned their faces toward the preacher.</p> + +<p>Clara was not with us that Sabbath, for which I was glad. I wondered +what would be done, and the week after mother left us, Jane North came +over, and I expected to hear some talk concerning it.</p> + +<p>She brought her knitting in a little gingham bag on her arm, and there +was no way to get rid of her or of her coming talk, which, I confess, I +dreaded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" I said to Clara, "that wretched meddler is coming. What +shall we do with her?"</p> + +<p>"I will try and help you, Emily. Perhaps she has a good heart after all, +and meddles only because her conditions in life have fitted her for +nothing better."</p> + +<p>"It isn't so, Clara; she tells stories about everybody; I would not +believe her under oath."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Charity," she said softly, and through the door came Jane.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Emily."</p> + +<p>"Take a seat," I said, bowing.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Mis' Densin," to Clara.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. <i>De-mond</i>," I said, pronouncing the name rather forcibly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! <i>De</i>-mond is it?" with accent on the first syllable</p> + +<p>"That is more like it," said Clara. "How do you do to-day? let me take +your things."</p> + +<p>"Don't feel very scrumptious, and ain't sick neither, kinder so so. How +are all here? I heard Mis' Minot was gone. Ain't you lonesome?"</p> + +<p>"We do miss her sadly," said Clara.</p> + +<p>"Gone to a weddin', ain't she?" I laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"Only for a change," said Clara.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mis' Grover"—</p> + +<p>Clara waited for no news, but said quickly:</p> + +<p>"You were very kind, thinking we were lonely, to come over and see. Come +into the other side of the house," and she led the way to her +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh! ain't this be-yoo-ti-ful! What a wonderful change from the old side +of this house! I declare, I should think Mr. Minot would be thankful +enough for this addition to his house."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am the one to be thankful," said Clara, "he was so kind as to +build it for me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! he built it, hey; with his own money, did he?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, he never would use any other person's. Cousin Minot in a +very nice man."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is he your cousin?" said Jane in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course he is. Did you not know of it?"</p> + +<p>"Never heard of it before."</p> + +<p>"What are you knitting?" said Clara.</p> + +<p>"Stockings," was the monosyllabled reply.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever knit silk?"</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't think I did. I ain't grand enough to afford that."</p> + +<p>"You could, though, I know," said Clara.</p> + +<p>"Why, I dunno,—praps so." Jane North was foiled, and she succumbed as +gracefully as she could, although awkwardly enough; but Clara went on:</p> + +<p>"I have some beautiful silk thread, I have had it for years. My +grandfather's people, over in France, were silk weavers. It is through +my mother that I am related to Mr. Minot; my father's people were +French," she said, noticing an incredulous look in the eyes of Jane. "I +have a lot of silk in thread and floss: I'll get the box and show it to +you," and she did.</p> + +<p>My own curiosity led me into the room—I had stood back of the door all +this time—and the silk was beautiful; rich dark shades and fancy colors +mingled, and a quantity of it too. Although kept so long, it was strong, +having been of such fine material.</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive! I should be scar't to death to own all that," said Jane.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Clara, "if you will show me how to knit some for myself, I +will be willing to scare you a little. I would like to give you enough +to make a pair or two of stockings for yourself. Chose your own colors," +and she emptied the contents of the box on the lounge at her side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't mean it, Mis' De-mond."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do, take any shade you prefer, and if Emily has needles, we +will go right to work on our cutting."</p> + +<p>The right string was touched, the cutting started, and when Jane North +left us, she whispered to me:</p> + +<p>"I like that woman, and I don't care whether she is a Baptist, or what +she is, she's a lady."</p> + +<p>Those stockings averted much, for her head was full of wonder talk.</p> + +<p>I reminded Clara of the indignation she felt at her expressions, when +she first saw her, and told her I did not suppose she ever would desire +to look at her again.</p> + +<p>"Why, Emily," she said, "I never feel like annihilating people whose +ideas are all wrong. They are but representatives at the most, and I +would rather desire to help these eaters of husks to find the true bread +that shall bring to them comfort and peace. I should wish to fill their +hearts so full that the rays of this inner light shall radiate around +them, touching with the magic of good deeds all the suffering our world +contains. This would leave no empty rooms in the house of our +understanding; all would be filled with tenants of good-will and loving +faith, bearing charity and love each toward the other; and uncultivated +fields would be found no more. I thought if I could touch Miss North in +the right spot, I might fill her mind, for a few brief hours at least, +with something beside her gossip. If this could be done every day in the +week, she would lose sight of it altogether, and like a tree engrafted +with better fruit, on these new thought-branches beautiful wisdom +apples<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> might grow and ripen. If she comes again I will find something +as new to her, I hope, as I have found to-day."</p> + +<p>"What a wonderful compound you are, Clara," I said, "and what perfect +symmetry nature has given to you, while I am your antipodes."</p> + +<p>"What's that you are calling yourself?" said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, something just different from all that is good and true enough to +belong to Clara!"</p> + +<p>"'Pears to me you're gettin' some dretful big word now-a-days; when you +want me to understand you, talk plain English."</p> + +<p>Hal, who had entered that moment, laughed heartily. "So I say, Aunt +Hildy. Our Emily is going to be a blue-stocking, I fear. Housework will +suffer before long, for housework and book cannot go together."</p> + +<p>"No more than ploughs and plaster," I added.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit more, sister mine," and he passed his arm around my +waist,—he often did this now-a-days,—and whispered, "give me a chance +to say something to you."</p> + +<p>I nodded an assent, and he passed on through the room, whistling to +himself "Bonny Doon." I embraced the first opportunity to follow him, +and found him alone in his studio. He seated himself beside me, took one +hand in his and passed an arm around me. I wished he could have been my +lover then, in fact, I often wished it, for he was as good as he was +handsome, both noble hearted and noble looking. He was to me the +embodiment of all that was good and all that went to make the best man +in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Emily," he began, "you have been a blessed sister to me; I have loved +you always, even though I plagued you so much, and you have been +faithful to me. I entrusted to you the first great secret of my life, +when I sought you under the apple tree."</p> + +<p>"Why could you not have told me more?" I said.</p> + +<p>"For the sole reason it would have been hard for you to have kept it +from mother, and I wanted to surprise you all at home. Your hand, Emily, +was the one that held the cup of life to my lips; and Louis," he added +in a tender tone, "with his sympathy and the power of his heart and +hand, led me slowly back to strength. Louis is a grand boy. Now, Emily," +and he drew me still closer, "I have something else to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Don't go away, Hal."</p> + +<p>"I desire to stay, but, Emily, I love Mary Snow. I want to tell you of +it. I cannot speak positively as to what may happen, but I love her very +dearly. Could you be glad to receive her as a sister?"</p> + +<p>Selfish thoughts arose at the thought of losing Hal, but I banished them +at once, and my heart spoke truly when I said:</p> + +<p>"Mary Snow is good enough for you, Hal. I have always liked her so much, +but how stupid I am, never to have dreamed of this."</p> + +<p>"No?" said he, as if surprised. "Never dreamed of it? Do you think it +strange that I should tell you, Emily? I have seen the time when it +would seem very silly to me, but I have learned to realize how great is +the tie that binds us, and I hope through all the years you and I will +never be apart. I ask of you, too, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> promise. Do not tell even Clara, +and if ever you have such a secret, tell me frankly, for we should love +each other, and our joys should be mutual."</p> + +<p>I said not a word, but I thought of Louis, and I longed to show him the +chain and locket, which I constantly wore, but I could not, and I have +wished since that I might have been wiser. At this moment Mr. Benton +entered, and our position did not escape him.</p> + +<p>"Truly, Hal," he said, "you make a capital picture. Courting, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Call it that if you please; we are very near in spirit, thanks to the +Father."</p> + +<p>The thought of work came over me, and I left them to help about getting +supper. To be in Hal's confidence and to feel the trust he reposed in me +had made me very happy. Precious indeed did this seem to me, and if all +brothers and sisters were as near, how much of evil would be averted. +Young men might find at home the love and society they need, and less +temptation and fewer penalties to pay would be the good result.</p> + +<p>Mother's absence was nearly at an end, and father had gone on Saturday +to Aunt Phebe's to spend the Sabbath, and was to bring mother back on +Monday.</p> + +<p>Sabbath evening Hal went over to Deacon Snow's, Clara was in her room +writing to Louis, Ben reading in the kitchen, and I was left with Mr. +Benton in Hal's room. This night was never to be forgotten, for although +from time to time I had been forced to notice the great change in his +manner toward me, I was unprepared for what occurred, and unconscious +that he had so misunderstood and perverted my motives in that fated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +talk. I cannot tell you all he said, nor how he said it, but I was +thoroughly confused and startled by his protestations, and could only +say:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Benton, I do not desire to hear this; I cannot understand it; you +have been mistaken," etc.</p> + +<p>To all of which he replied as if deeply pained, and I believed in his +sorrow and despised myself. I could not and did not tell him of Louis, +for when I thought of it, it seemed too sacred, and he had no right to +this knowledge. I was overwhelmed with strange and unpleasant feelings; +there was no satisfaction in the thought of having heard these +declarations; it was an experience I would fain have avoided. His talk +to Clara, too, came to my aid, and rallying a little, I said:</p> + +<p>"It is not long since you felt you could not live without the love of +Clara's heart; how strangely all your feelings must have changed. This +perplexes me, Mr. Benton."</p> + +<p>He raised his head from his hands—he had been sitting some moments in a +despairing attitude, evidently struggling with great emotion—and +answered:</p> + +<p>"It is natural that this should perplex you, and I am prepared for it. +Years of lonely waiting and yearning for the love of a true heart, have, +perhaps, made me seize too readily on any promise of hope and sympathy. +I was certainly fascinated with Mrs. Desmonde, and told her of my +feelings, prematurely as it proved, for the more I knew of her, the more +convinced I grew of her unfitness, I might almost say for earth, +although she still is beautiful to me. But you, Emily, are a woman of +strength and will, of a strength that will grow, for your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> years do not +yet number twenty-one; these years have already given you maturity and +power, and I respect and admire you, and I believe I could worship you +if you would let me."</p> + +<p>This was stranger talk than I could endure, and I broke out +passionately:</p> + +<p>"You need not ever try; I do not want you to, for I shall never love +you, and you are also old enough to be my father." I cannot tell why I +should have made this great mistake for which I immediately reproached +myself.</p> + +<p>The lines in Mr. Benton's face grew a little sharper, and the gleam of +his eye for a second was like a fierce light, and he answered gravely:</p> + +<p>"My years do number more, but in my heart I stand beside you. I would +have waited longer to tell you, but I am going away." I looked +wonderingly. "A friend is ill. I go to him; then to Chicago to see some +of our statuettes, and then if your parents will board me here, shall +return for the summer, unless," and his eyes dropped hopelessly, his +voice trembled, "unless," raising his eyes to mine appealingly, "I shall +be too unwelcome a friend to remain."</p> + +<p>Dear Hal and his art rose before me, and pity and love caused me to say:</p> + +<p>"Oh, come back, Mr. Benton! Hal needs you."</p> + +<p>"We will consider then that we are friends, Emily?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," I said, glad enough to pass out of this door. Would it had +been wider!</p> + +<p>Advancing to me he took my hand, and said:</p> + +<p>"My friend always, if I may never hope for more. I leave to-morrow +morning, let us say good-bye here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was a strange scene for a plain country girl like Emily Minot. +Don't blame me if I was bewildered, and if I failed for a moment to +think of the snake I had dreamed about: neither wonder that in this last +act in Mr. Benton's drama, he seemed to have gained some power over me. +He knew, for I was no adept at concealing, that he had won some vantage +ground, and that I blamed myself and pitied him.</p> + +<p>Morning came, and he left us, and Aunt Hildy said: "Gone with his great +eyes that allus remind me that still water runs deep. Can't see how +Halbert and that man can be so thick together."</p> + +<p>Matthias, who was there early, ready to go to work, said to himself as +the stage rolled away: "De Lord bless me, if dat man don't mos' allus +set me on de thinkin' groun. Pears like he's got two sides to hisself, +um, um."</p> + +<p>I heard this absent talk of Matthias', and also Aunt Hildy's words, and +I marvelled, saying in my heart, "Emily Minot, what will be done next?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>PERPLEXITIES.</h3> + + +<p>We were all glad to see mother, and she had enjoyed her visit, which had +improved her much.</p> + +<p>"Hope you haint done any work?" said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>Mother said nothing, but when her trunk was unpacked she brought forth, +in triumph, a specimen of her handiwork.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Hildy," I called, "come and give her a scolding."</p> + +<p>She came, and with Clara and myself, was soon busy in trying to find out +how the mat—for this was the name of the article—was made.</p> + +<p>"How on airth did you do it, and what with?"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you find out?" said mother.</p> + +<p>"For only one reason, <i>I can't</i>," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>"It is made of pieces of old flannel and carpet that Phebe got hold of +somehow. We cut them bias and sewed them on through the middle, the +foundation being a canvas bag, leaving the edges turned up."</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare," said Aunt Hildy; "but you had no right to work."</p> + +<p>My mind was sorely troubled, and when, in about a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> week after Mr. +Benton's departure, I received a long letter from him, I felt worse than +before. I blamed myself greatly, and still these wrong steps I had taken +were all only sins of omission. It was for Clara's sake; for Hal's sake; +and last, but not least, I could not say to Mr. Benton, as I would have +wished to, that my love was in Louis' keeping, for you remember I had +met Louis' advances with fear, and he had said, "I will wait one year." +How could I then say positively what I did not know? Louis was growing +older, and my fears might prove all real, and I should only subject +myself to mortification, and at the same time, as I really believed, +cause Mr. Benton sorrow.</p> + +<p>"Poor Emily Minot," I said, "you must condole with yourself unless you +tell Halbert," and I resolved to do this at the first opportunity.</p> + +<p>Clara was delighted at Mr. Benton's absence. She went singing about our +house all the time, and the roses actually tried to find her cheeks. Our +days seemed to grow more filled and the hearts and hands were well +occupied.</p> + +<p>Hal was busy with his work and hopes, and I had been over with him to +see Mary, and had looked with them at the picture of their coming days. +I enjoyed it greatly. They were not going to be in haste, and Mary's +father was to talk with our people concerning the best mode of beginning +life. I think some people end it just where they hoped to begin. Mary +had a step-mother, who was thrifty, and that was all; her heart had +never warmed to infant caresses, and she would never know the love that +can be felt only for one's own. It was sad for her, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> can see now +how she suffered for this well-spring of joy which had never been found. +To Mary she was kind, but she could not give her the love she needed. +Mary was timid. Hal always called her his "fawn." It was a good name. He +made a beautiful statuette of her little self and christened it Love's +Fawn, and while he never really meant it should go into strange hands, +it crossed the Atlantic before he did, and received high +commendation—beautiful Mary Snow.</p> + +<p>Instead of my visit helping to open my secret to Hal, it seemed to close +the door upon it, and only a sigh came to my lips when I essayed to +speak of it. Once he asked me tenderly as we walked home:</p> + +<p>"It cannot be our happiness that hurts you, Emily?"</p> + +<p>"No—no," I said, "it gives me great joy to see you so happy."</p> + +<p>I told mother when he wished, and a talk ensued between her and father, +then a conference of families, and a conclusion that the marriage which +was to occur with the waning of September, should be followed, as the +two desired, by their going to housekeeping.</p> + +<p>Father had a plot of thirty acres in trust for Hal, and he proposed to +exchange some territory with him, that his house might be nearer ours. +Hal was named for Grandfather Minot, and was a year old when he died. In +a codicil to the will, grandfather had bequeathed to Hal these thirty +acres, which was more than half woodland. Hal was glad to make an +exchange with father, and get a few acres near home, while he would +still have nice woodland left. Acres of land then did not seem to be +worth so much to us, and it was a poor farmer in our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> section, who had +not forty or more acres, for our town was not all level plains, and +every land-owner must perforce have more or less of hill and stubble. +These new ideas of building and "fresh housekeeping" as Aunt Hildy said, +gave much to think about, and while Clara and I were talking together +with great earnestness one afternoon in April, we were surprised by a +letter of appeal from Louis. We, I say, for Clara read to me every +letter he sent her, and this began as follows:</p> + +<p>"Little mother, bend thy tender ear, and listen to thy 'dear boy' who +desires a great favor; think of it one week, and then write to him thou +hast granted it."</p> + +<p>The entire letter ran in this strain, and the whole matter was this: he +felt he could not stay in school his appointed time. He had done in +previous months more than twice the amount of work done by any one +student, and when the vacation came with the coming in of July, he would +stay with the professor through the month, and thus work up to a certain +point in his studies, then he wanted a year of freedom, and at its +close, he would go back and finish any and every branch Clara desired +him to.</p> + +<p>"Emily," said Clara, "he will be twenty-one next January, but he will be +my boy still, and he will not say nay, if I ask him to return again. I +have expected this. If Louis Robert had not left so strong a message—" +and she folded her hands, and with her head bent, she sat in deep +thought and motionless for more than half an hour. Then rousing +suddenly, said:</p> + +<p>"It will be well for him, I shall send the word to-morrow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>My heart beat gladly for in these days, I longed for Louis. Thoughts of +Mr. Benton vanished at the sight of Louis' picture, and his letter I did +not answer. He wrote again. The third time inclosed one in an envelope +addressed to Hal, who looked squarely at me when he handed it to me, and +afterward said:</p> + +<p>"Emily, do you love Will?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head, and came so near telling him, but I did not, and again +committed the sin of omission.</p> + +<p>While all these earthly plans were being formed about us, the stirring +of thought with the people on religious matters grew greater. Regularly +now several of our people went ten miles to the church where we heard +Mr. Ballou. A donation party for our minister was to be given the last +day of April, and the air was rife with conjectures. Jane North made her +appearance, and her first salutation was:</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Mis' Minot. Going to donation next Monday night?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," was mother's quiet reply.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad: s'pose there's a few went last year that wouldn't carry +anything to him now?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy stepped briskly in and out of the room, busy at work, and +taking apparently no notice of the talk, when Clara came again to the +front with:</p> + +<p>"Oh! come this way, Miss North, I have something to say, these good +people will excuse us."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes," said mother, and they went. I could not follow them for I was +busy. Two hours after, I entered Clara's sitting-room, and Jane sat as +if she had received an important message from some high<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> potentate, +which she was afraid of telling. She sat knitting away on her silk +stockings, and talked as stiffly, saying the merest things. Clara left +the room a few moments, and then she said:</p> + +<p>"Ain't she jist a angel; she's give me the beautifullest real lace +collar for myself, and three solid linen shirts for our minister; said +per'aps she should'nt go over; and two or three pieces of money for his +wife, and a real beautiful linen table-cloth; you don't care if I take +'em, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" I said, "Mrs. Desmonde is the most blessed of all women."</p> + +<p>"<i>So she is</i>, but here she comes," and again Jane sat covered with new +dignity. It was rather a heavy covering, but I thought of Clara's +philosophy and said to myself, "Another batch of scandal pushed aside." +This way of Clara's to help people educate themselves to rise above the +conditions which were to them as clinging chains, was to me beautiful. +If all could understand it, it would not be long before our lives would +unfold so differently. "<i>Emily will help me.</i>" These words came full +often before me, and now if I could only see my way through the +difficulties which entangled me, then my hands would, perhaps, led by +her, touch some strings which might vibrate sweetly. Then, and not till +then, could I be satisfied, and unconscious of any presence, I sang +aloud:</p> + +<p>"How long, oh, Lord! how long?"</p> + +<p>"Dat's de berry song I used to sing down thar, an' I dunno as I could +'spected any sooner," said Matthias, who came in unexpectedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Matthias!" I said, "do you know I believe your people will all go +free?"</p> + +<p>And his large, honest eyes opened widely, as he said:</p> + +<p>"'Way down in yer, I feel sometimes like I see freedom comin' right down +on de wings of a savin' angel, and den I sings down in dat yer grown' +room, Miss; I sings dat ole cabin-meetin' song, 'Jes' lemme get on my +long white robe, and ride in dat golden chariot in de mornin' right +straight to New Je-ru-sa-lem.' 'Pears like I get great notions, Miss +Emily."</p> + +<p>"The Lord will hear you as well as me, Matthias, and some day slavery +will die. What a good time there will be then above there," said I, +pointing upward.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "good for de righteous, but dat old Mas'r Sumner, he'll +jes' be down thar 'mong dem red-hot coals."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Matthias!" I said, "there are no red-hot coals."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Miss, I dunno but dat 'pears like I can't hab hevin' wid dat man +thar."</p> + +<p>"He will be changed and good."</p> + +<p>"Can't think so. Dat man needs dat fire; preachin' could'nt do him no +good, noway."</p> + +<p>"We will agree to let each other think as they feel, but our Father must +love all his children."</p> + +<p>"Ef dat's so," said he thoughtfully, "I hope he'll hab more'n one room +for us, rather be mos' anywhar dan in sight ob dat man," and he trudged +off with his literal Heaven and Hades before him.</p> + +<p>Poor ignorant heart! let him hold to these thoughts; he cannot dream of +a love so liberal as that which delights my heart to think of; he cannot +know that we, being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> God's children, must inherit some of his eternal +goodness, and that little leaven within will be the salvation of us all +through time that knows no end. Poor Matthias! his eyes will be opened +over there; and tears filled my own at the glorious prospect waiting. He +was living in his ground room truly.</p> + +<p>The donation came off happily. Our minister had been many years with us, +and was a good man, to the extent of his light, and worthy of all we +could bestow on him. He owned a small farm, and had also practised a +little in medicine, and had always tried to do his duty. I suppose his +fiery sermons were preached honestly, and that his duty, as Clara said, +led him to hang out a signal lantern. To me it was a glow-worm light, +that only warned me in a different direction, and although my fierce +treatment of that Christmas sermon was past, down deep in my heart +strong truths had been planted. I felt I must have a talk with both my +pastor and my father before I could again partake of the communion.</p> + +<p>Clara did not go with us to the donation. We went after supper, meeting +at the house about six <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, and stayed until nine. Many good +and sensible gifts were brought them, and Clara's was not least among +them. Jane North proudly displayed the four five dollar gold pieces, and +descanted long on "such fine linen," and that beautiful lady who sent +it.</p> + +<p>Several said to us: "Why, we didn't know as you would come"—to which I +said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! of course we proposed to come;" and for once I was wise enough +not to ask why. I told Clara, she certainly had planted good seed, for +not one word of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> scandal escaped the lips of Jane that evening, only +praise of the beautiful Mis' Desmonde.</p> + +<p>It was only a few days after the donation, that Mr. Davis, our minister, +came over to spend the evening, and we had a long talk, one that ended +better than I anticipated. When he came he inquired particularly for +Clara, who insisted on our going into her sitting-room, and all but Hal +followed her thither, his steps, after supper, turning as usual toward +the house of his "fawn."</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis alluded to his donation visit, and he desired especially to +thank Clara for her most welcome offers to his wife and himself, adding, +"And the greatest wonder to me is that the shirts fit me so well."</p> + +<p>"You know my dear boy is a man in size," said Clara, "I thought they +would be right, and he has now left four more that are new and like the +ones I sent you, but please do not thank me so much, Miss North did me +full justice in that line."</p> + +<p>"She was a willing delegate, then?" said Mr. Davis.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very!" said Clara, "and she is a lonely soul in the world."</p> + +<p>"So she is, more lonely than she need be if our people could understand +her," he replied; "but I confess my own ignorance there, for I never +seemed to know just what to say to her."</p> + +<p>"Clara does," said I, but Clara looked, "Emily don't," and I said no +more.</p> + +<p>At last the conversation turned on religious matters, and to my +surprise, Mr. Davis came to explain himself instead of asking +explanations, as I had expected.</p> + +<p>"I have understood," said he, "that you, Mr. Minot,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> think my sermon +alluding to false doctrines, and also the one in which I spoke of +preachers of heresy, were particularly directed to you, and that I +believed you had done very wrong in leaving for one Sabbath your own +church to hear a minister that preaches new and strange things."</p> + +<p>"I never have intimated as much, Mr. Davis. I did suppose you intended +some of the remarks in your last sermon should apply directly to myself +and family; but of the first one, I had only one idea. As I have before +said to you, the thought of a burning hell always makes me shudder. I +never could conceive of such torture at the hand of a wise and loving +God. If there is punishment awaiting the unrighteous, it is not of +literal fire. I am well persuaded of this, for if it were a literal +fire, a body would soon be consumed; hence, the punishment could not be +endless as supposed; while upon a spiritual body, it could have no +effect. The fire in the stove burns my finger, but touches not my soul."</p> + +<p>"You know the tenets of our belief embrace both eternal comfort and +eternal misery," said Mr. Davis; "it is what we are taught."</p> + +<p>"I know," said my father. "I have considered my church obligations +seriously, and am prepared to say, if it is inconsistent for me, in the +eyes of my preacher or of his people, that I, holding these thoughts, +should remain in fellowship with them as before, I can only say I have +grown strong enough now to stand alone, and I should think I ought to +stand aside. I cannot see why we may not agree on all else."</p> + +<p>"I believe we do; I respect your opinions, Mr. Minot;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> we cannot afford +to lose you either. May I ask with what denomination you would propose +to unite?"</p> + +<p>"None at all," said my father, "unless the road comes clearer before me. +I love our old meeting-house, Mr. Davis; my good old father played the +violin there for years, and when a youth, I stood with him and played +the bass viol, while my brother, now gone, added the clear tones of the +clarionet, and the voice of my sweet sister Lucy could be heard above +all else, in the grand old hymns 'Silver Street' and 'Mear.'" At these +recollections my father's voice choked with emotion, and strange for +him, tears fell so fast he could say no more.</p> + +<p>"Brother Minot," said Mr. Davis, rising to his feet and taking his hand, +his eyes looking upward, "let the God who seeth in secret hold us still +as brothers; keep your pew in the old church. This one difference of +opinion can have no weight against either of us. This is all the church +meeting we need or will have, and if I ever judge you falsely, may I +<i>be</i> thus judged."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy said: "Amen, Brother Davis, your good sense will lead you out +of the ditch, that's certain."</p> + +<p>Clara's eyes were looking as if fixed on a far-off star. She was lost in +gazing, the thin white lids covered her beautiful eyes for a moment or +two, then she turned her pure face toward Mr. Davis, and said:</p> + +<p>"It is good for us all to be wise, and it is not easy to obey the +scriptural injunction, 'Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.' +Ever growing, the human mind must reach with the tendrils of its thought +beyond the confines of to-day. The intuition of our souls, this Godlike +attribute which we inherit directly from our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> Father, is ever seeking to +be our guide. None can be so utterly depraved that they have not +sympathy either in one way or another with its utterances. Prison bars +and dungeon cells may hold souls whose central thoughts are pure as +noon-day; and sometimes hard-visaged men, at the name of home and +mother, are baptized in tears. The small errors of youth lead along the +way to greater crimes, and I sometimes ask myself if it is not true that +living with wants that are not understood, causes men to seek the very +things their souls do not desire, and they are thus led into deep +waters. If Mr. Minot's soul reaches for a God of compassion and mercy, +is it not because that soul whispers its need of this great love; and if +it asks for this, will it not be found; for can it be possible with this +spark of God within us, the living soul can desire that which is not +naturally designed for it?</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear friends," she continued, "this is the great lesson we need +to make us, on this earth, all that we might and should be. It is not +true that the thought of eternal love will warrant us in making mistakes +here; on the contrary, it will help us to see all the beauty of our +world, and to link our lives as one in the chain which binds the present +to the enduring year of life to come. Duty would be absolute pleasure, +and all they who see now no light beyond the grave, would by this +unerring hand be led to the mountain top of truth's divine and eternal +habitation. In your soul, Mr. Davis, you ask and long for this. +Doctrinal points confuse you when you think upon them, and you have lain +aside these thoughts and said, 'the mysteries of godliness may not be +understood;' but my dear sir, if this be true, why are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> we told to be +perfect even as our 'Father in Heaven is perfect;' for would not that +state be godly, and could there be mysteries or fear connected with it?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Never, never</i>," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>Then, with her hands stretched appealingly toward him, Clara said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, do not thrust this knowledge from the door of your heart! Let +it enter there. It will warm your thoughts with the glow of its +unabating love, and you will be the instrument in God's hand of doing +great good to his children."</p> + +<p>She dropped her hands, the tender lids covered again those wondrous +eyes, and we sat as if spell-bound, wrapt in holy thought.</p> + +<p>"Let us pray," said Mr. Davis, and we knelt together.</p> + +<p>Never had I heard him pray like this, and I shall ever remember the last +sentences he uttered; "Father, if what thy handmaid says be true, give +me, oh, I pray thee, of this bread to eat, that my whole duty may be +performed, and when thou shall call him hither, may thy servant depart +in peace."</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis shook hands with us all just as the clock tolled nine, and to +Clara he said:</p> + +<p>"Sister, angels have anointed thee; do thy work."</p> + +<p>This was a visit such as might never occur again. Truly and strangely +our life was a panorama all these days. I dreamed all night of Clara and +her thoughts, and through her eyes that were bent on me in that realm of +dreams, I read chapters of the life to come.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>LOUIS RETURNS.</h3> + + +<p>It would be now only a few days to Mr. Benton's return, and I dreaded +it, never thinking of him without a shudder passing over me; Aunt Hildy +would have called it "nervous creepin'." I felt that this was wrong, and +especially so since I knew I was thus hindered in the well-doing for +which I so longed.</p> + +<p>"Happiness comes from the inner room," said Aunt Hildy; "silver and gold +and acres of land couldn't make a blind man see."</p> + +<p>Her comparisons were apt, and her ideas pebbles of wisdom, clear and +white, gathered from experience and polished by suffering. Both she and +Clara were books which I read daily. How differently they were written! +and then how different from both was the wisdom of a mother whose light +seemed daily to grow more beautiful. It seemed when I thought of it as +if no one had ever such good teachers. And now if I could only break +these knots which had been tangled through Mr. Benton's misunderstanding +of me, there seemed no reasonable excuse for not progressing. Church +affairs had been happily regulated, so far as Mr. Davis and our few +nearer friends were concerned, and the sermon on good deeds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> which he +preached the Sabbath after his visit to us was more than worthy of him.</p> + +<p>Clara said, "He talked of things he really knew; facts are more +beautiful than fancies."</p> + +<p>"And stand by longer," added Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>Louis was to come on the first of July, his mother not deeming it +advisable for him to study through that month; but Mr. Benton preceded +him and came the first day of June. It was a royal day, and he entered +the door while the purplish tinge of sunset covered the hills and lay +athwart the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Home again," was his first salutation.</p> + +<p>"Very welcome," said Hal and father; mother met him cordially, and I +came after them with Clara at my side, and only said:</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Benton?"</p> + +<p>He grasped my hand and held it for an instant in a vice-like grasp. I +darted a look of reproof at him, and the abused look he wore at our last +talk came back and settled on his features.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me the more I tried to keep out of his way the more fate +would compel me to go near him. Hal was very busy, and it seemed as if +Clara had never spent so much time in her own room as now, when I needed +her so much. Mother was not well, and every afternoon took a long nap, +so I was left down stairs, and no matter which side of the house I was +in he was sure to find me. The third day after his arrival he renewed +his pleading, trying first to compliment me, saying:</p> + +<p>"What a royal woman you are, and how queenly you look with your massive +braids of midnight hair fastened with such an exquisite comb!" (Louis' +gift).<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Midnight hair," I said. "I've seen many a midnight when I could read in +its moonlight; black as a crow would be nearer the truth," and I +laughed.</p> + +<p>The next sentence was addressed to my teeth. He liked to see me laugh +and show my teeth; they looked like pearls.</p> + +<p>"I wish they were," I said, "I'd sell them and buy a nice little house +for poor Matthias to live in."</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" he said, and looked perfectly disgusted; but he was not, for he +said more foolish things, and at last launched out into his sober +sentiment. Oh, dear, if I could have escaped all this!</p> + +<p>"Have you not missed me? You have not said it."</p> + +<p>"I have not missed you at all," I said, "and I do wish you would believe +it."</p> + +<p>"You have no welcome, then, no particular words of welcome?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Benton, you know I am a country girl."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you remind me of a city belle in one way. You gather hearts +and throw them away as recklessly as they do, throwing smiles and using +your regal beauty as a fatal charm. I must feel, Miss Minot, that it +would have saved me pain had we never met."</p> + +<p>This touched a tender spot. "Mr. Benton," I cried, "cease your foolish +talk, you know that I never tried to captivate you, that I take no +pleasure in an experience like this. You say that I am untrue to myself, +false to my highest perception of right and justice. If you claim for me +what you have said, you do not believe it, Wilmur Benton; you know in +your soul you speak falsely."</p> + +<p>"Why, Emily," he said, "you are imputing to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> what you are unwilling +to bear yourself; do you realize it?"</p> + +<p>"I think I do," I replied, "and further proof is not needed to convince +me."</p> + +<p>"Really, this is a strange state of affairs, but (in a conciliatory +tone), perhaps I spoke too impulsively, I cannot bear your anger; +forgive me, Emily."</p> + +<p>"Well," I answered merely.</p> + +<p>"Can you forget it all?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I will see," I replied, and just then I saw Halbert coming over the +hill, and I was relieved from further annoyance. I cannot say just how +this affected me. I felt in one sense free, but still a sense of +heaviness oppressed me and all was not clear. My mental horizon was +clouded, and I could see no signs of the clouds drifting entirely away, +but on one point I was determined. I would give no signs of even pity +for Mr. Benton, even should I feel it as through days I looked over my +words and thoughts. He should not have even this to hold in his hand as +a weapon against me. I would say nothing to Hal, for Louis would come, +and in the fall, the year of his waiting would be at an end. He would +tell me again of his great love, and I would yield to him that which was +his. Oh, Louis, my confidence in your blessed heart grows daily +stronger!</p> + +<p>While these thoughts were running through my mind, Matthias' voice was +heard, a moment more and he was saying:</p> + +<p>"Guess he's done gone sure dis time; he drink an fiddle, an fiddle an' +drink; and nex' ting I knowed he's done dar at the feet of dem stars all +in a heap by hisself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who's that?" I cried.</p> + +<p>"Plint, Miss. He's done gone, sure, an' I came roun' to get some help +'bout totin' him up stars. Can't do nothin', an' Mis' Smith she's jes +gone scart into somebody else. She don't 'pear to know nuthin', an' when +I say help me, she jest stan' an' holler like mad."</p> + +<p>"I'll go over," said Aunt Hildy, wiping her hands, and turning for sun +bonnet and cape.</p> + +<p>"I'll go," said Hal.</p> + +<p>"Me, too," cried Ben, and off they started.</p> + +<p>Poor Plint was gone, surely enough; dead, "a victim to strong drink and +fiddlin'," Aunt Hildy said. His funeral was from the church, for we all +respected Aunt Peg and pitied Plint, and Mr. Davis only spoke of God's +great mercy and his tenderness to all his flock; never putting a word of +endless torment in it.</p> + +<p>Poor Aunt Peg had great misgivings concerning Plint, and groaned audibly +throughout the entire service. Matthias was a great comfort to her +through her trouble, and she told Clara and me when we called on her, +that he was not as clean as she wished, but he was a mighty comfort to +her, and the greatest blessing Aunt could have sent. Plint's fiddle hung +against the wall in her little room with whitened floor and +straight-back chairs, and I could not keep back the tears when I noticed +that she had a bunch of wild violets tied to the old bow. She noticed it +and burst into tears herself, crying:</p> + +<p>"That there fiddle was no use no way, but seems now I kinder reckon on +'t." She was true to these intuitions of the soul, these thoughts that +cover tenderly even the remembrance of a wasted life, and we could not +but think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> that if Plint had not loved cider so well, he might perhaps +have developed rare musical talent.</p> + +<p>I had been true to myself as far as Mr. Benton was concerned, and since +our last stormy interview, treated him with respectful indifference. He +had two or three times attempted to bring about a better state of +affairs, but I could not and did not give him any encouragement. I felt +wronged and also justified in the establishment of myself where I should +be safe from greater trouble at his hands.</p> + +<p>The first day of July, the day for Louis' coming, dawned auspiciously, +and I was as happy as a bird. It seemed to me my trouble was nearly +over, and Louis, when he came in at our door that night, looked +admiringly at me, and after supper he said:</p> + +<p>"Emily, you are growing beautiful, do you know it?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so," I said honestly, "you know how homely I have always been."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I do not, you have been to me my royal Emily ever since I first +met you."</p> + +<p>"I must have compared strangely with your city friends and their +bewildering costumes."</p> + +<p>"It was more strange than you know; you made the picture and they were +the background," he said, and I thought, perhaps, he was going to cut +short the year of waiting and say more. Instead, he looked off over the +hills, and held my hand tighter. We were in Hal's room, and Mr. Benton +entered, saying with great joy in his tones:</p> + +<p>"Louis, I have made a success, take a little walk with me and I will +tell you about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p>Louis looked at me a moment, as if to tell me it is the picture, and +with a tender light in his eyes, went out under the sky, which was +beautiful with the last tinge of sunset clinging to it, as if loath to +leave its wondrous blue to the rising moon and stars.</p> + +<p>As they passed out, I thought I saw Matthias coming, but must have been +mistaken, as he did not appear. An hour passed and Louis and Mr. Benton +returned, the latter looking wonderfully satisfied and happy, Louis +thoughtful, and I should have thought him sad had I not known of Clara's +picture.</p> + +<p>The days passed happily, but through them all I was not as happy as I +had expected. Louis must be sick, I thought; he was so quiet, and almost +sad. Perhaps he had met with less, and I longed to ask him but could +not. I was annoyed also by Mr. Benton, who would not fail to embrace +every opportunity that offered, to talk with me alone, holding me in +some way, for moments at a time. If I was dusting in Hal's studio, and +this was a part of my daily duties, he was sure to be there, and several +times Louis came in when we were talking together, I busy at work and +Mr. Benton standing near.</p> + +<p>Clear through the months that led us up to the door of October, these +almost daily annoyances troubled me. It was not love-making, for since +the day of my righteous indignation he had not ventured to approach me +on that ground; but any thought which came over him, sometimes regarding +his pictures and sometimes a saying of Aunt Hildy's,—anything which +could be found to talk upon, it seemed to me, he made a pretext to +detain me, and since he did this in a gentlemanly manner, how could I +avoid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> it! It was a perfect bore to me, and yet I thought it too foolish +a trouble to complain of. That was not the summer full of joy to which I +had been looking, but it was full of work and care, and over all the +mist of uncertainty.</p> + +<p>Hal's house had been built; it was a charming little nest, just enough +room for themselves and with one spare chamber for company.</p> + +<p>"Don't git too many rooms nor too big ones," said Aunt Hildy. "If six +chairs are enough, twenty-five are a bother. One loaf of bread at a time +is all we want to eat. I tell you, Halbert, you can't enjoy more'n you +use; don't get grand idees that'll put your wife into bondage. There are +all kinds of slavery in this world," and between every few words a +milk-pan went on the buttery shelf. She always worked and preached +together.</p> + +<p>Hal had a nice room for his work; then they had a sitting-room, kitchen +and bedroom down stairs, and two chambers. It was a cottage worth +owning, and Clara, as usual, did something to help.</p> + +<p>"Allus putting her foot down where it makes a mark," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>She furnished Hal's room entirely, and gave Mary so many nice and +necessary things that they were filled with thanksgiving. The marriage +ceremony was performed at Deacon Snow's, and I cried every moment. I sat +between Louis and Clara, notwithstanding Mr. Benton urged a seat upon me +next himself; and on our return home he appeared to think I needed his +special care, but I held close to Clara, and Louis, whose arm was his +little mother's support, walked between us. He was sadly thoughtful, +saying little.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>The wedded pair left our town next morning for a brief visit with Mary's +friends, and returned in a few days to their little house, which was all +ready for occupancy. Aunt Hildy and mother had put a "baking of +victuals," according to Aunt Hildy, into the closet, and the evening of +their return their own supper table was ready, with mother, Clara, Louis +and me in waiting. Louis remarked on Mr. Benton's coming over, and I +forgot myself and said, in the old way:</p> + +<p>"Can't we have one meal in peace?"</p> + +<p>Mother said:</p> + +<p>"Why, Emily, you are losing your mind; what would Hal think if Mr. +Benton were left alone?"</p> + +<p>Father and Ben came over, but not till after supper, and Aunt Hildy +persisted in staying at home and doing her duty.</p> + +<p>"Let him come, and stay, too," I added, still feeling vexed; and how +strangely Louis looked as Mr. Benton came in. "Fairy land," he said.</p> + +<p>Mother made some reply, but I sat mute as my thought could make me.</p> + +<p>The stage came. Our first supper was pleasant both as a reality and as a +type of their future. Hal and Mary were truly married, and through the +ensuing years their lives ran on together merged as one. When we stopped +to think over the years since his boyhood, to remember the comparatively +few advantages he had enjoyed, the ill luck of my father in his early +years, and his tired, discouraged way which followed,—it was hard to +realize the facts as they were. Grandma Northrop often prophesied of +Hal, saying to mother:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That boy's star will rise. I know his good luck will more than balance +his father's misfortune, and in your old age you will see him handsomely +settled in life."</p> + +<p>It seemed as if the impulse of his youth had all tended to bring him +where the light could shine on his art, and from the time he entered Mr. +Hanson's employ his good fortune was before him. There is another +thought runs by the side of this, and that is one induced by the +knowledge of the great power of gold. Mr. Hanson was a man of wealth and +good business relations. Liking Hal for himself, and interested in his +art, it was easy for him to open many doors for the entrance of his +work. Mr. Benton was a help to Hal in his art, and his reward was +immediate almost, for Hal had told me Will's pieces had never been +appreciated as now. It was astonishing, too, how many people had money +to buy these expensive treasures,—but the sea was smooth.</p> + +<p>"Every shingle on the house paid for," said Aunt Hildy; "aint that the +beginning that ought to end well?"</p> + +<p>And now the road of the future lay, as a fair meadowland, whose flowers +and grasses should be gathered through the years. Truly life is +strangely mixed.</p> + +<p>The look of perplexing anxiety had vanished from my father's face, for +with Hal's prospects his own had grown bright, and you cannot know how +Clara lifted him along, as it were; paying well and promptly and saving +in so many ways, was a wondrous help to a farmer's family. There was +also the prospect of a new street being opened through the centre of the +town, and if my father wished he could sell building lots on one side of +it, for it would run along the edge of his land.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Trouble don't never come single-handed, neither does prosperity, Mr. +Minot," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>"Love's Fawn" was a famous little housekeeper, everything was in good +order, and I certainly found a well-spring of joy in the society of +these two. If Mary needed any extra help, Hal said, "Emily will do it." +This was a very welcome change from the old saying.</p> + +<p>Ben was a daily visitor, and spoke of sister Mary with great pride. He +was a good boy and willing. Hal felt anxious to help him, if he desired +it, by giving him more schooling, but he was a farmer born, and his +greatest ambition was to own a farm and have a saw mill. He went to the +village school, and had as good an education as that could give, for he +was not dull. I was glad for his sake he liked farming; it seemed to me +a true farmer ought to be happy. Golden and crimson leaves were +fluttering down from the forest trees, for October had come upon us and +nearly gone, and while all prospects for living were full of cheer, I +felt a great wonder creeping over me, and with it, fear. Louis had said +no word to me as yet, and could it be he had forgotten the year was at +an end? Surely not. Could his mind have changed? Oh, how this fear +troubled me! He was as kind as ever, but he said much less to me, and +seemed like one pre-occupied. One chance remark of Clara's brought the +color to my cheeks, as we sit together.</p> + +<p>"Louis, my dear boy, what is it? A shadow crossed your face just then."</p> + +<p>He looked surprised, and only half answered:</p> + +<p>"The shadow of yourself. I was thinking about you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Benton did not talk of leaving us; he had some unfinished pieces, +and my father had said:</p> + +<p>"Remain as long as you please, if my wife is willing."</p> + +<p>After Hal left, I felt his studio marred by Mr. Benton's presence, for +he had become a perfect torture to me, and I began to believe he +delighted in it, secretly. Then again, I had the room to attend to, and +I must in consequence be annoyed. Of this I was tired, and when day +after day passed and brought no word from Louis, save in common with the +rest, I said, hopelessly:</p> + +<p>"Let it go. I will try to love no one but father and mother and Clara +and Hal, and oh, dear! when shall I ever be ready to say, 'Now Clara, +let me help you'?"</p> + +<p>She said to me through these days I was not happy. "Wild flower, what +troubles thee?" one day, and again, "Emily, my royal Emily, art thou +sighing for wings?"</p> + +<p>November came and passed, and the gates of the new year were opening, +still all the way lay dark before me. Night after night my tear-stained +pillow told my sorrow mutely, and day after day I sighed. Mother was not +well, and I felt that everything was wrong. I was worrying myself sick, +I knew, and could not help it.</p> + +<p>It was a cold, bitter day, and in my heart lay bitter thoughts when +Matthias came over to tell us, that "Peg was right sick, 'pears like +she's done took sick all in a minit, onions and onions, mustard and +mustard, an nothin' don't do no good. Here's a piece of paper I foun' in +de road, 'pears like you mus' want it," and he handed it to me.</p> + +<p>I put it in my pocket and went to ask Aunt Hildy what to do for Aunt +Peg. She proposed to go over, and Ben went with her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>While they were gone I read the paper, which proved to be a letter, +evidently written to Mr. Benton, and the signature was plainly, "your +heart-broken Mary," I could only pick out half sentences, but read +enough to show me the treachery and sorrow, aye, more, a life cursed +with shame, and at the hands of Wilmur Benton.</p> + +<p>"Thank God," I cried aloud—I was in the sitting-room alone—and then +tears fell hot and fast, and I sobbed and cried as if I had found a wide +white path that led from the night of my discontent, out into the +morning of the day called peace. I could not stay there and cry, I must +pass Clara's door to go to my room, and throwing a shawl over my +shoulders I rushed out, and fairly flew over the frozen ground to that +dear old apple tree. What a strange place to go to, standing under those +bare limbs, or rather walking to and fro, but I could not help it! This +same old tree had heard my cries and seen my tears for years. I covered +my face with both hands, and wept aloud. I could not have been there +long, when I felt a presence, and Louis was beside me.</p> + +<p>Putting an arm around me, he said tenderly, "Come in, Emily."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I cannot, they will see my face, what shall I do? +how came you here?" and I still kept crying and sobbing as if my heart +would break.</p> + +<p>"Why Emily, my royal Emily, come into little mother's room,—she has +lain down,—and tell me why you weep."</p> + +<p>I yielded gratefully, not gracefully, and we were seated alone, all +alone, and he was saying to me:</p> + +<p>"Emily, tell me what it is, you have troubled me so long, your eyes have +grown so sad. Oh! Emily, my dar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>ling, may I not know your secret sorrow? +I can wait longer, my year has flown, and three months more, and still +my heart is waiting; tell me your sorrow, and then let me say to you +what I have waited in patience to repeat."</p> + +<p>It was not a dream, my heart beat like a bird, and I could tell him, +only too gladly. "Emily will do it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>EMILY FINDS PEACE.</h3> + + +<p>As soon as I could control my voice I said, "I cannot tell you why I cry +so bitterly. I felt so strangely when I read this terrible letter, which +Matthias had picked up in the road and given to me. Instead of sorrow +covering me, as would seem natural, sorrow for another, not myself, I +said, 'thank God,' for it seemed as if I had looked at something that +would lead me from darkness to light. I have been so miserable, Louis; +Mr. Benton has tormented me so long, that I have been filled with +despair, and I begin to believe I shall never be worth anything again; +oh! I am grieving so, and yet feel such a strange joy;" and I shook as +if with ague.</p> + +<p>Louis looked as if wonder-struck, and holding both my hands in one of +his, drew my head to his shoulder, and with his arm still round me, put +his hand on my forehead.</p> + +<p>"Your head is like fire, Emily; the first thing is for you to get quiet; +a terrible mistake has been made, and we may give thanks for the help +that has strangely come."</p> + +<p>I knew it would appear but did not know how. I still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> grieved and sighed +and was trying hard to control myself.</p> + +<p>"Emily," said Louis, in a tone of gentle authority, "do not try to hold +on to yourself so; just place more confidence in my strength and I will +help your nerves to help themselves, for you see these nerves you are +trying to force into quiet, are only disturbed by your will. Let the +rein fall loosely, it will soon be gathered up, for when you are quiet +you will be strong, and the harder you pull the more troubled you will +be. You must lean on me, Emily, from this day on as far as our earthly +lives shall go—you are mine. It is blessed to claim you."</p> + +<p>I tried to do as he said, and after a little, the strength he gave crept +over me like a tide that bore me up at last; my grieving nerves were +still, but my face was pale, as he said again:</p> + +<p>"Now, Emily, let me hear from your own lips, 'I love you, Louis,'" and +his dark eyes turned to meet my own, which were filled with tears that +were not bitter—holy tears that welled from the fountain of my tired +and grateful heart.</p> + +<p>"I do love you, Louis—and Louis," I cried, forgetting again, +impetuously, "I thought you had forgotten. I have suffered so long and +you did not know it, and I dared not tell."</p> + +<p>"Emily should have done it, but never mind, you say you love me, and +shall it be as I desire? will you be my wife, Emily?"</p> + +<p>I bowed my head and he continued:</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Emily, and I do hope that listening angels hear and know it +all. Their love shall sanction<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> ours, and we will do all we can for each +other, and also for those who unlike us see not the love, the comfort, +and the faith they need. Now you shall be my Emily,—you are christened; +this is your royal title,—my Emily through all the years."</p> + +<p>Oh, how glad I felt! From the depths of my spirit rose so strong and +full the tide of feeling that told me one love was perfect, and it cast +out fear.</p> + +<p>I said: "Louis, let us wait. Do not look at the dreadful letter now, it +will mar this pleasant picture which rests me so, and I have been tired +too long. I hope I may never again have to say to myself, 'Emily did +it,' or its companion sentence, 'Poor Emily did not do it.' Let me +breathe a little first, for I shall be again wrought up."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I must be, it cannot be avoided, there is a dark passage through +which we must pass, but if we go together it will not be so hard."</p> + +<p>"As you say, my Emily," and at that moment Clara entered.</p> + +<p>"Come in, little mother," said Louis, "come in and seal my title for +your royal cousin with a motherly kiss, for she has promised to be my +wife—my Emily through time."</p> + +<p>And she glided toward us, kissed my forehead tenderly, and then taking a +hand of each in one of hers, she turned her eyes upward and said:</p> + +<p>"Father, bless my children; they were made for each other. May their +lives and love continue, ever as thine, through endless time. Let our +hearts be united and thy will be ours," and she knelt on the floor at +our feet, her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> head resting in my lap, and her hand in Louis', whose +face was radiant with the thoughts which sought expression in his +features. I marvelled, as I looked on his beauty, that plain Emily Minot +could have become so dear to him.</p> + +<p>The thought of father's fear, too, came over me, and while we were thus +in thoughtful silence, the old corner clock gave warning of the supper +hour being near, and I said:</p> + +<p>"The supper I must see to, Louis."</p> + +<p>He smiled and said:</p> + +<p>"My Emily can get supper, I know, for she makes both bread and butter, +and is loyal to her calling ever, as to her lover."</p> + +<p>Mr. Benton looked sharply at me during the meal, and it seemed to me as +if my eyes betrayed the thought which, filled my heart. Aunt Hildy had +returned from her errand of mercy, and she said it was "nervous +rheumatiz."</p> + +<p>"Poor creature, she's broke down with her hard work."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she'll marry that old fellow, Mat Jones," said Mr. Benton. +"He'd make a good husband if she isn't too particular," and he laughed +as if he thought his remark suggestive of great cunning. No one gave it +even a smile. He did not like Matthias, and often spoke slurringly of +him. This was strange, for I could see no harm coming to him from this +harmless soul who was good and true and faithful as the sun. He was to +us the very help we needed, and father could entrust the care of his +work to him whenever he desired to rest a day, or it was necessary for +him to be absent from home. This was no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> small consideration, and well +appreciated by those who knew what the care and work of life on a farm +meant. Mr. Benton's remark called forth from Louis after a time one +concerning the great evil of slavery.</p> + +<p>"And if we suffer from any error this race commit, we must remember it +is our own people who have brought it to us," said he. "Africa never +would have come to us."</p> + +<p>Mr. Benton, apparently nettled, said:</p> + +<p>"I imagine you would not enjoy a drove of these people in your care. I +had a little taste of the South during two years of my life, and my word +for it, Louis, they are not attractive creatures to be tormented with. +They are a perfect set of stubborn stupidities, and driving is the only +thing to suit them, depend on it."</p> + +<p>Louis looked more than he said, only recalling that the blame for this +could not rest on the slave alone. "I do not imagine I could enjoy +slave-owning. I feel the majority of slave-owners lower themselves until +they stand beneath the level of the brutes."</p> + +<p>Father said, "It is all wrong."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy added, "All kind of bondage is ungodly, and the days will +bring some folks to knowledge."</p> + +<p>"Out of the depth into the light," said Clara, and our meal was over.</p> + +<p>The days flew by on wings, each wing a promise, and it was a week after +we plighted our vows ere I felt ready to read that letter and hear what +Louis had to say. Then something came to prevent, and another week had +passed when Louis said:</p> + +<p>"My Emily, I must have a talk with your father and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> mother. I cannot +feel quite satisfied, and it is only right they should be consulted, for +you are their own good girl. I would wait for their hearts to say, 'take +her,' if I waited years, but then, my Emily, it is neither giving nor +taking, for every change that is right does not ask us ever to give +ourselves or our loved ones away. I dislike that term."</p> + +<p>"You may wait, Louis; I will tell mother, and she can tell father."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Emily! It is I who ask for your hand, and is it not my +privilege as well as duty?"</p> + +<p>"What a strange man you are growing to be, Louis! Hal couldn't bear the +thought of telling mother or father his heart affairs, and I was the +medium of communication between them."</p> + +<p>"He feels differently about it," said Louis, "and yet he has the +tenderest heart I ever knew within the breast of a man."</p> + +<p>"He is a good brother, Louis. I could not ask a better."</p> + +<p>"Nor find one if you did."</p> + +<p>At that moment Matthias came in. Taking off his hat and saluting us in +his accustomed way, he said:</p> + +<p>"'Pears like I'll have to ask some of yere to go out in de woods a +piece—thar's a queer looking gal out thar, an' she's mighty nigh froze +to death; she is, sartin."</p> + +<p>"Where is she, Matthias?"</p> + +<p>"Clean over thar; quite a piece, miss."</p> + +<p>"Near any house?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Wall, miss, she mout be two or three good steps from that thar +brick-colored house."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, clear over there? Well," I said, "I'll go over if Lou Desmonde will +go with me."</p> + +<p>"I will go, only never call me that again. Matthias calls me Mas'r +Louis, and he says I remind him of a mighty nice fellow down in South +Carliny," said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Yis, sah, you does," said Matthias.</p> + +<p>Telling mother and Aunt Hildy what we were going out to find, we +started.</p> + +<p>It was a very cold day, and through our warm clothing the winds of March +pierced the marrow of our bones. We found the woman, who proved to be, +as Matthias had said, nearly frozen. Louis took her right in his arms to +the nearest shelter, Mr. Goodwin's, the brick-colored house, and his +good, motherly wife had her put into the large west-room, where the +spare bed was made so temptingly clean, and with such an airy feather +mattress, that, light as she was, the poor girl sank into it almost out +of sight. Matthias brought wood and made a fire on the hearth, and Mrs. +Goodwin, Louis and I worked hard for an hour chafing her purple limbs, +her swelled feet and hands, and at last she turned her head uneasily, +and murmured:</p> + +<p>"The baby's dead—she is dead and I am going to her."</p> + +<p>Then a few words of home and some pictures.</p> + +<p>"Myself! myself!" she'd cry, "my picture; yes, my hair is beautiful; my +golden curls, he said; and my baby's hair; let me put it here."</p> + +<p>And she passed into a sleep from which it would seem she could never +waken. We sent Matthias back to tell mother, and say that we should both +stay all night if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> necessary. This girl could not be more than twenty, +we thought. Her fingers were small and tapering, and on her right hand +she wore a ring set with several diamond stones. Her dress was of silk, +and her shawl fine but thin. Her head covering had doubtless fallen off +and then been carried by the wind, for we saw nothing of it. She was a +beautiful picture as she lay there, for the blood had started and her +cheeks were flushed with fever, her lips parted, showing a set of teeth, +small, white and regular. Who could she be? Where did she come from? It +was about an hour after she fell asleep that she stirred, wakened, and +this time opened her eyes in which a conscious light was gathering.</p> + +<p>"Where am I? What is it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Goodwin stepped near her, Louis retreated from the room, and I kept +my seat by the hearth.</p> + +<p>"Dead, dead, I was dying but I am not dead; do tell me," she said, +putting both her hands out to Mrs. Goodwin.</p> + +<p>"You are sick, my child. We found you in the road and took you in. You +had lost your way."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!" she murmured, "can I stay all night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, stay a week or two, and get rested!"</p> + +<p>"May I go to sleep again? Who knows me here?" and again she fell asleep. +By this time Aunt Hildy appeared on the scene, and commanded me to go +home and stay there.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't no place for you; I've brought my herbs to stay and doctor her. +You go home and help your mother." I obeyed, of course, and when I left, +kissed the white forehead of the poor girl, and sealed it with a tear +that fell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>She murmured: "Yes, all for love,—home, pictures, mother,—all left for +love, and the baby's dead. I'm going there."</p> + +<p>I went out into the crisp air with Louis' arm for support, and a +thousand strange thoughts whirling in my brain. "Great, indeed, must +have been the sorrow which could have driven so tender a plant from +home."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Louis, "God pity the man whose ruthless hand has killed the +blossoms of her loving heart. She looks like little mother, Emily."</p> + +<p>"So she does, Louis." And we talked earnestly, forgetting everything but +this strange, sweet face. Supper was ready, and the rest were at the +table.</p> + +<p>"What have you been up to?" said Ben, "you look like two tombstones." I +related briefly the history, and concluded by saying:</p> + +<p>"She looks as frail as a flower." To which Mr. Benton added:</p> + +<p>"Doubtless her frailty, Miss Minot, is the cause of her present +suffering."</p> + +<p>"Poor lamb," said Clara, "how thankful we should feel that Matthias +found her."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Louis, "and if he only could have thought to have carried +her into Mr. Goodwin's, and then come over after us, she would not have +so hard a struggle for life."</p> + +<p>"Do you think she can live?" said Mr. Benton.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Louis, "the blood has started, and with Aunt Hildy by +her bedside she will be, by to-morrow, very comfortable. I think she had +not been there long when we found her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps she will not thank you for bringing her back to life, however."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," said Louis, "still it seems a sacred duty, and in my +opinion, not finished with her mere return to life. She looks very +beautiful—looks like little mother," turning in admiration to Clara, +whose eyes reflected the love she held in her heart for him.</p> + +<p>Father and mother were silent, but after supper mother said they would +ride over and see if anything was necessary to be done that they could +attend to. My mother was too silent and too pale through these days. I +looked at the prospect of less work for her with pleasure, and after Mr. +Benton left there certainly would be less. Louis would have Hal's room, +and Clara then would see to their apartments almost entirely. This would +be a relief, and now that my mind was at ease, I knew I could be of more +service, while Aunt Hildy would still remain, for she said she would +make "Mis' Minot's burden as easy as she could, while the Lord gave her +strength to do it."</p> + +<p>After father and mother were gone, Louis sat with me in our +sitting-room, while Clara absented herself on the plea of something very +particular to attend to. I mistrusted what it might be, and looked at +her smilingly. "My Emily guesses it," she said, "something for the +little lamb. Emily will help me too, have I not said it?" and she passed +like a sweet breath from the room.</p> + +<p>"Now Louis," I said, as we sat together on the old sofa,—our +old-fashioned people called it "soffy,"—"let us look at that letter."</p> + +<p>He produced it from the pocket where it had lain in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> waiting, and we +read. Many lines were illegible entirely, but together we deciphered +much of it. "The baby is dead—she was beautiful, and if (here were two +words we could not make out), it would have been so nice (then two lines +blurred and indistinct, and another broken sentence). Where can your +letters —— I am sure you write. If —— then I shall go to find ——. +My father will give us ——" and from all these grief-laden sentences, +we gathered a story that struck us both as being almost made to coincide +with that of the poor lamb.</p> + +<p>"Louis," I said, "if this is the very Mary, what shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"We will do right and let problems be solved as best they can. First let +us understand about ourselves, then we can better act for others. How +did Mr. Benton annoy you?"</p> + +<p>Then I told him.</p> + +<p>"And you did not even think you loved him?"</p> + +<p>"Louis," I cried, "how could you think so, when my heart has been yours +always? How could you think of me in that light?" And those old tears +came into my eyes.</p> + +<p>"I could not convince myself that such was the case, but Wilmur Benton +gave me so to understand—said you were a coy damsel but a glorious +girl, and would make a splendid wife—'just such as I need,' he said, +'congratulate me.'</p> + +<p>"When, Louis, did he say this?"</p> + +<p>"The night of our walk; and it was this instead of the picture he talked +of."</p> + +<p>"You were cruel not to tell me," I said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I waited for my year to finish as I had said I would, and then, Emily, +I waited longer for fear you did not know your heart. Matthias said to +me one day, 'Masr' Louis, dat man neber can gain de day ober thar; Miss +Emily done gone clar off de books, an he's such a bother—um—um.' This +set me to thinking; I asked him how he came to think so. 'Dunno, can't +help it, 'pears like dat gal's eyes tell me 'nuf.' All this was good to +hear, and I had watched you very closely for days, thinking every +morning, 'I will tell her before night;' and several times went into +Hal's room purposely, but Mr. Benton was always before me. It was +because you felt all this that the letter made you feel truly an opening +path—your tearful talk by the old apple tree was the 'sesame' that +opened the way to the light."</p> + +<p>"I do not like to feel that man is such a character as all these things +indicate," I said, adding dreamily, "but I never came very near to him. +He is a splendid artist, and still the canvas does not speak of his +soul."</p> + +<p>"How utterly void of feeling for those in bondage he seems to be! What a +cold crust covers him! Emily."</p> + +<p>"It hurts me to think you could for a moment believe I preferred him to +you."</p> + +<p>"You must not for a moment believe that in my soul I did, for it is not +true; but I knew your artless, loving heart, and I knew also Mr. Benton +had the power to polish sentences of flattery that might for a little +dazzle you, as it were."</p> + +<p>"And they did sometimes, Louis," I said, for I wanted the whole truth to +be made plain, while I felt his glitter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>ing eyes fastened on me, "but +not long. When I was alone, I saw your face and longed to hear again the +words you had said to me. We are both young, Louis, and I feared you did +not love me as you thought. I had no right to defend myself against Mr. +Benton's attacks by using your name with my own. And when the year was +past, then I still felt no right, and further," I added slowly, "to me +my love was a sacred picture I could not ask him to look at."</p> + +<p>"My Emily forever," said Louis, folding me closely to him. "Your fears +were groundless as to the changing of my love for you, but, as you say, +the picture was not for his eyes. Your suffering causes me sorrow, but +let us hope it has not been in vain."</p> + +<p>"It is all right, Louis, now, and I have said to myself, let 'Emily will +do it' be the words hereafter, for 'Emily did it' has passed, and with +this lesson, too, I hope, the second sin of omission, which in my heart +I characterize as 'Emily did not do it.' And now your little mother's +words lie just before me, reaching a long way through the years, 'Emily +will do it.'"</p> + +<p>"Amen," said a sweet voice, which was Clara's. "Emily has begun, and +when she goes to see the little lamb here are some things to take."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to see her, little mother?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, Louis; I cannot now look upon her sorrow. By-and-by," and over +her face came a shining mist, and through sweet sympathy's pure tears +her eyes looked earnestly, but she did not tell us of what she was +thinking.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>MARY HARRIS.</h3> + + +<p>I think we must all have dreamed of the lovely face over among the +pillows in Mr. Goodwin's west room, for we were hardly seated at the +breakfast table ere Ben said:</p> + +<p>"Wonder how that pretty girl is this morning?"</p> + +<p>"She was better when we left last night," said mother, "I thought she +appeared as if ready for a comfortable night; but shall hear soon if she +is better, Aunt Hildy will be home, and if not, Matthias will be over."</p> + +<p>"Wish I could see her—will she go right away?"</p> + +<p>"That I do not know," said mother, "we have yet to learn her history. +Mrs. Goodwin wanted Matthias to come over to-day, for after you left, +Emily, she called for 'Peter, colored Peter,' looking as if expecting to +find him. Matthias came into the room and brought some wood, while she +was awake, and when she saw him, she said, 'Oh, Peter! stay till I get +rested—I want to tell you.' He dropped his wood heavily, it gave him +such a start. He says no one ever called him that except some young +people down in Carolina, and it seems he named himself Peter, to their +great amusement, telling them that he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> 'cakilated to treat his old Mas'r +just as Peter treated de good Jesus.'"</p> + +<p>"Why, can it be possible he knows her?" I said.</p> + +<p>"He thinks not," said mother, "but this calling him Peter is singular +enough."</p> + +<p>"It seems very strange, and hardly possible she can have come so far," +said father. Louis' eyes as well as my own had been covertly scanning +Mr. Benton, and he was ill at ease. At the name of Peter his face grew +pale and his hand trembled; no one else noticing it, he rallied, but +made no remark whatever. Afterward Louis said to him:</p> + +<p>"What a strange experience this is of the girl we found!—truths are +queer things; I feel a real anxiety to find out about her. Do not you +feel interested?" His eyes fell as he answered:</p> + +<p>"Can't say that I do. You have more enthusiasm than myself. Having known +more years, I am taught to let people look out for themselves very much. +But that old Matthias I don't like. It may be all a put up +job—something to bring credit or money to himself—you can't trust that +darky."</p> + +<p>"Why," said Louis, "<i>I</i> would trust him, and so far as this young lady +is concerned, a different person from Matthias is at the root of the +matter. I have a desire to know the truth and help the girl."</p> + +<p>"She may be your fate, Louis."</p> + +<p>"No," he replied, "Mr. Benton, that is not possible, my 'fate,' as you +call it, is my Emily."</p> + +<p>"Miss Minot?" said Benton, "great heavens! Has that girl played me +false?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think not," said Louis calmly, "and since the subject is broached, +perhaps it will be best for me to tell you that Emily is to be my wife, +her parents being willing."</p> + +<p>"You <i>are a gentleman</i>, truly! I gave you my confidence and expected"—</p> + +<p>"Do not say more," said Louis, raising his hand deprecatingly against +the coming falsehood, "do not help me to despise you. I am too sorry +that I am forced to know what you said to me was untrue, and also to +realize what my Emily has suffered and kept in her own heart."</p> + +<p>"Louis Desmonde," said Mr. Benton, "do you realize what you are saying?"</p> + +<p>"Only too well, sir; do not force me to say more. I admire your art. I +am willing to help you to be a man."</p> + +<p>"<i>Indeed!</i>" replied Mr. Benton. "Philanthropic <i>boy</i>! who talks to a man +of years and judgment!"</p> + +<p>It was a bitter pill for him, and I believe it was the knowledge of +Louis' money, and of his own great need of it, that forced him to +retreat in silence, while Louis sought and told me of their interview.</p> + +<p>"How could you help telling him of the letter, Louis?"</p> + +<p>"I did not have to try to help it, for I want to be sure of all I say to +him, and as far as I spoke I had perfect authority. He may at some time +need my help, though he spurned the aid of his 'philanthropic boy.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>Boy</i>," said I, "you are old enough to be his father in goodness, but +here comes Aunt Hildy. The poor lamb must be better, else she would not +come back so soon," and I opened the door for her entrance.</p> + +<p>"I know what you're after," she said, "she's better;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> the poor thing +will get well. Oh dear! land! I wonder, when'll the same old story end."</p> + +<p>"Has she told it to you, Aunt Hildy?"</p> + +<p>"Partly to me and partly to Mis' Goodwin." (Aunt Hildy never said Mrs. +---- married or single, it was always Miss.) "She'll tell you all about +it, I guess, for she wants to see you. She remembers your dark eyes, and +Matthias she calls Peter—yes, she does, now she's come clean to her +senses, and when she gets a little more strength, she says she must see +him, and the dark eyes too; so you'll have to go over. Mis' Goodwin said +mebbe you'd better wait till to-morrer, and so says Brother Davis. He +come over and brought a few of his powders—he wanted to do something. I +told him we could fetch her out straight—Mis' Goodwin and me—and I +think he'd better tend to himself—says he's got a dreadful pain under +his shoulder blades; acts as if he's goin' to be sick."</p> + +<p>"Could the young lady eat anything, Mrs. Patten?" said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Mercy! yes, I've made gruel twice for her and she's all right, only +she'll be lame and sore-like for a good while, but I must go to work, +I've been gone long enough. Where's your mother?" And the dear old soul +hastened to her duties.</p> + +<p>Our supper table was enlivened by the news that Aunt Hildy brought, all +being interested with the exception of Mr. Benton, who was well covered +with dignity. Part of that evening, Louis and I spent with Hal and Mary. +I longed to tell them all about the letter and Mr. Benton's deceit, but +as we entered, Louis whispered, "Let us be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> discreet," and I answered, +"Emily will do it." He was so much wiser that our years told a story +when they said "only a month's difference in their ages." Hal and Mary +were much interested in the poor lamb, and like ourselves hoped to learn +her history, and help her as she must need. Our visits here were always +pleasant, and when we said "good night," a sincere "God bless you" rose +from our hearts. We entered our sitting-room, to find Clara sitting +between mother and father, and the three evidently enjoying a home talk. +After we were seated, and a lull in the conversation came, Louis +startled me by saying:</p> + +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Minot, I want to ask of you a favor—greater than the one +granted my little mother; perhaps so great that you will fail to grant +it; but it is worth the asking, worth the waiting for through years. May +I call Emily my wife?"</p> + +<p>My father looked strangely, and did not reply for a moment, while +mother's face was covered with that pleasant smile, which from earliest +years I had considered, "<i>yes</i>." Louis' eyes were bent on my father, +who, when he answered, said:</p> + +<p>"You are both young, Louis."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I know it, and I do not ask to make her my wife now. But I +love her, Mr. Minot, and it is not right we should hold a position not +sanctioned by you. I shall feel better if you are willing to consider +us, as we feel, pledged to each other."</p> + +<p>"I cannot say <i>no</i>, but I have thought—Mr. Benton has asked me the same +question, and I hardly know what to say—I said to him, 'If Emily is +willing, I will not oppose your suit.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh!" I cried, "father, he has told such stories!"</p> + +<p>Louis said: "We can explain that satisfactorily, Mr. Minot, but if there +are other objections in your mind, let us know what they are."</p> + +<p>My father was not a man who expressed himself freely, and Louis was so +unlike other young men that he was embarrassed evidently, and there was, +as it seemed to me, a long silence ere he said:</p> + +<p>"I have no objections, Louis. I believe you mean what you say, and also +have enough of your mother in you to treat our girl well. I cannot see +why your plans may not be carried out so far as I am concerned."</p> + +<p>He looked at mother, who smiled a consent, and Louis stepped toward them +both, shook their hands heartily, and said:</p> + +<p>"I thank you."</p> + +<p>His way of manifesting feeling was purely French, and belonged to +him—it was not ours, but we came to like it, and as my father often +said, when Clara came she unlocked many a door that had been shut for +years. Too many of our best ideas were kept under covering, I knew, and +the hand of expressive thought was one which loosened the soil about +their roots, giving impetus to their growth and sweetness to their +blossoms. We knew more of each other daily, and is not this true through +life? Do not fathers and mothers live and die without knowing their +children truly, and all of them looking through the years for that which +they sorely need, and find it not? Their confidence in each other +lacking, lives have been blasted, hopes scattered almost ere they were +born, and generations suffered in consequence. It was the blessed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +breaking of day to me, the freedom to tell my mother what I thought; and +after Clara, became one of us, I could get much nearer to my father. The +full tide of her feeling swept daily over the harbor bar of our lives, +and we enjoyed together its great power. Her heart was beneficent, and +her hand sealed it with the alms she gave freely. She was always +unobtrusive, and anxious in every way to avoid notoriety.</p> + +<p>Deacon Grover who had heard and known with others of her numerous +charities, offered advice in that direction, and said to Aunt Hildy,</p> + +<p>"If that rich lady would just walk up and give a few hundreds to the +church fund it would help mightily."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy had replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Deacon Grover, it would be nice for lazy folks to let the +minister do all the saving, and somebody else all the paying. I believe +faith without works is jest exactly like heavy bread, and will not be +accepted at the table of the Lord."</p> + +<p>"He never said another word to me," said she; "that man knows he has a +right to be better."</p> + +<p>This was a conceded fact, and it always seemed to me he ought not to be +carrying his deaconship in one hand, and his miserably small deeds in +the other. Hypocrites were in existence among all people, and while +thoroughly despised by them, still held their places, and do yet, as far +as my knowledge and experience go.</p> + +<p>Early the morning of the next day, Matthias came over to tell us about +that "poor gal," as he called her.</p> + +<p>"She wants to see you, Miss Emily, and they say she wants to talk to me +too. Mis' Goodwin said ''pears<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> like you'd better come over thar 'bout +three o'clock to-day, if you can.' She's right peart, an' by 'nuther +mornin', 'spect she'll call loud for me."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you know her, Matthias?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say I do, Miss, but seems queer enough, she 'sists on callin' of +me 'Peter'—um—gimme sich a feelin' when she spoke dat word," and +Matthias looked as if his heart was turning back to his old home, and +its never-to-be-forgotten scenes.</p> + +<p>Mother sent a basket of delicacies over by him, and Aunt Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"Tell Miss Goodwin I'm goin' to bake some of my sweet cookies and send +over, and we can make some bread for her; 'twill help along—don't +forget it Matthias."</p> + +<p>"No, marm, I'll 'member sure," and off he started. As he passed along +the path I thought of a word I wanted to say, and ran out of the door in +time to see the shadow of a form which I knew must be waiting in the +"angle" as we called it. It was where the east L ended, about ten feet +from the main front. In the summer I had a bed of blue violets here, and +named it "Violet Angle.' I stopped, for I heard a voice, and saw +Matthias turn to this spot instead of passing on to the gate as usual. +The first salutation I did not hear, but Matthias' reply was "yaas sah." +The voice was Mr. Benton's, and I stood riveted to the spot.</p> + +<p>"Who is that girl, Matt?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Dunno, sah."</p> + +<p>"Don't know? Yes, you do know; you can't play your odds on me. I'm not +ready to swallow all I hear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> I want you to tell me who that girl is, +and how she came here."</p> + +<p>"I dunno, sah, sartin."</p> + +<p>"Matt, I don't believe a word you say; first tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>"Massar Benton, you're a queer man. Dis niggah shan't tell you no lies, +but de Lord's truf, I dunno noffin 'bout."</p> + +<p>"You don't know me either, do you?" and he laughed ironically.</p> + +<p>"Never thought I did," said Matthias; "'pears like long ways back I see +some face like yours, but I dunno. Good many faces looks alike roun' +yere."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," says Benton, "you've said enough, you black rascal; and you +<i>mark my words</i>, if you've raised the devil, as I think you have, I'll +cowhide you. I'll give you something to remember me by, you old fool; +and you a'nt a fool either; you're as cunning as Satan is wicked."</p> + +<p>"De Lord forgive you," said Matthias, "you're done gone clar from your +senses. I dunno who dat gal is, an I dunno who you is, an' what more kin +I say?"</p> + +<p>"I know who you are, and I know you were the slave of Sumner down in +South Carolina."</p> + +<p>"Yaas," said Matthias, "dat's so; but how does you know 'bout me? Did +you come down thar? 'Haps dat's de reason you're face kinder makes me +look back, an it mos' allus does; 'pears like you mout explain."</p> + +<p>"Yes, s'pose I <i>mout</i>," said Benton, "and I reckon you will before we +get through."</p> + +<p>"Wal," said Matthias, "if you wait till you gits evi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>dence fo' you gives +dat hidin' you talks 'bout, I've got plenty ob time to go over to de +groun' room," and he walked off at his old gait, slow but sure, while I, +turning, ran into the house and told mother what I had heard.</p> + +<p>She raised her hands in a sort of holy horror, but only said:</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means," said Aunt Hildy, "that man's a rascal; I told you, Mis' +Minot, he was when I first set eyes on him, and I've kept good track of +Emily, for when he see he couldn't get the 'rich widder,' that's what he +calls our good little creetur Clara, then he tacked round and set sail +for Emily, and he's been a torment to her, and I know it. Thank the +Lord, he's shown his cloven foot; I wish Mr. Minot had heard it. <i>He</i> +laughs at me, thinks I'm a fool, but I've seen through him if I do wear +an old cloak. It's mine, and so is my wit, what little I've got."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy stepped up lively and worked every moment, keeping time to +her thoughts and giving great expression by her peculiar accenting of +words. Clara heard us, and came in "to the rescue," she said, "for it +sounded as if somebody was getting a scolding."</p> + +<p>I repeated my story, and although she rarely used French expressions, +this time she clasped her little hands together, sank into a chair, and +said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Emélie, j'ai su depuis longtemps, qu'il nous ferait un grand tort. +Le pauvre agneau! Le pauvre agneau!"</p> + +<p>"What will father do?" I said to mother.</p> + +<p>"I cannot think of anything to do except to help the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> poor girl; his own +punishment is sure, Emily; we are not his masters. 'Vengeance is mine, +saith the Lord,'" she quoted calmly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Aunt Hildy, "that's the spirit to have, but I believe if I +had really heard it as Emily did, I'd have risked it to throw a pan of +dish water on him."</p> + +<p>I could not help laughing—we were having a real drama in the kitchen. +Great tears had gathered in Clara's eyes, and I said to her:</p> + +<p>"Now this will upset you. I'm sorry you heard it."</p> + +<p>"No, no," she said, "but the poor lamb, I can hardly wait for the time +when I may see her."</p> + +<p>"Can you ever speak to Mr. Benton again?" I said to mother.</p> + +<p>"I should hope so, Emily. I feel great pity for him; he might be a +better man. We are taught toleration not of principles, but certainly of +men, and I think if our Heavenly Father will forgive him, we can afford +to, and then it would be very unwise to let him know we are cognizant of +this."</p> + +<p>My mother reminded me so many times of the light that burns steadily in +a light-house on a ledge. The waves, washing the solid rock, and wearing +even the stone at its base, have no power to disturb the lamp, which, +well trimmed, burns silently on, throwing its beams far out to sea, and +fanning hope in the heart of the sailor, who finds at last the shore and +blesses the beacon light.</p> + +<p>I admired her calm and steadfast trust in the truth, that bore her along +in her daily doing right toward all with whom she mingled, but I well +knew she would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> righteously indignant toward Mr. Benton, and also +that the whole truth, with the letter and the story of "the lamb," would +soon be forthcoming. I could hardly wait for the recital which I +expected to hear in the afternoon, and entered Mrs. Goodwin's door at +three o'clock precisely.</p> + +<p>She was glad to see me, and said cheerily:</p> + +<p>"Take off your things, Emily, and I'll show you right in, for Miss +Harris is waiting anxiously."</p> + +<p>I thought she looked beautiful the night we found her, but to-day she +was a marvellous picture, sitting among the white pillows. Her cheeks +were touched here and there with pink, as if rose leaves had left their +tender stain—her eyes beautifully bright, and such depths of blue, with +arched brows above them, and long brown lashes for a shield. Her hair +rippled over her shoulders in brown curls, and around her was thrown the +light India shawl she had about her on that sad night. She smiled with +pleasure as I entered, and beckoned me to her bedside, while Mrs. +Goodwin said:</p> + +<p>"Take the old splint rocker, Emily. I am going to let you stay two long +hours."</p> + +<p>How gratefully the poor lamb's eyes turned upon the good woman!</p> + +<p>"This young lady's name is Harris."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Harris "Mary Abigail Harris, after my mother."</p> + +<p>I kissed her forehead, and then took the seat proffered, sitting so near +her that I could lean on the side of the bed as I listened to the story.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Goodwin left us alone, and the recital began:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I remembered your eyes, Miss Minot, and I wanted to tell you all about +it—how I came to be here, needing the help you so kindly gave. Oh, I +shudder," she said, "as I think how it might have been that never again +my mother could have seen me!"</p> + +<p>Her face grew pale, but no tears came, and I could see a resolute look +that gave signs of strong will, and for this I felt inwardly thankful.</p> + +<p>"I came from my home," said she, "in search of my husband. Three years +ago I was married in my father's house to Wilmur Bentley, who came South +from his Northern home on an artist's tour, selling many pictures and +painting more. He lived in our vicinity for some months with a friend, a +wealthy planter by the name of Sumner." I started involuntarily. "There +were two of these gentlemen—brothers—and they owned large plantations +with many colored people. Mr. Bentley had every appearance of a +gentleman of honor, and none of us ever doubted his worth. My father +gave him a pleasant welcome and a home, and for three brief months we +were happy. Suddenly a cloud fell upon him; he appeared troubled, and +said 'Mary, I must go North—I have left some tangled business snarls +there, which I must see to.' He left, promising an early return. The +letters I received from him were frequent, and beautifully tender in +their expressions of love for me. I was happy; but the days wore into +weeks, and his return still delayed. I began to feel anxious and +fearful, when I received a letter from Chicago, saying he had been +obliged to go to that city on business, and would be unavoidably +detained. He would like me to come to him, if it were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> not for fear of +my being too delicate to bear the journey. My parents would have been +quite unwilling also, for the promise of the days lay before me, and +with this new hope that it would not be so very long ere he would come, +I was again contentedly happy. The letters grew less frequent, and the +days grew long, and when September came my little girl came too, and how +I longed for her father to come.</p> + +<p>"My parents telegraphed him of the event, saying also, 'Come, if +possible—Mary is in a fever of anxiety,' but he did not come; the +telegram was not replied to, and although dangerously ill, I lived. Now +the letters came no more, and I, still believing in his goodness, felt +sure that he was either sick or dead. My little Mabel lived one year. +Oh, how sweet she was! and one month after her death I received a letter +asking why I was so silent, telling me of great trouble and overwhelming +me with sorrow. I answered kindly, but my father was convinced by this +that he was a 'villain,' to use his own expression. The fact of his not +writing for so long, and then writing a letter almost of accusation +against me, made me feel fearful, and as I looked back on my suffering, +determined, if it were possible to some day know the truth. My answer to +the letter I speak of was received, and he again wrote, and this time +told me a pitiful tale of the loss by fire of all his artist +possessions, and his closing sentence was 'we may never meet again, for +in the grave I hope to find refuge from want. If you desire to answer +this, write 'without delay. It is hard to bear poverty and want.'</p> + +<p>"I felt almost wild, and gave father the letter, hoping to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> receive a +generous donation from him, but my father said, 'Molly, darling, (that +is my name at home), the villain lies! no, no, pet, not a cent.' I cried +myself ill, and sent him my wedding ring, a diamond, his gift, since +which I have heard nothing.</p> + +<p>"I told my father after it was gone, and if he had not loved me so much, +I should have felt the power of angry words. He was angry, but he +thought of all I had suffered, and he took me right up in his arms, and +cried over me. 'Mollie, darling, it is too bad; you have a woman's +heart. I would to God the man had never been born.</p> + +<p>"I had a dear friend to whom I had confided all my sorrow—a Virginia +lady, married and living in Boston. Her husband, Mr. Chadwick, is a +merchant there, and every year she spends three or four months with her +Southern friends. One brother lives in Charleston, my home. We have been +attached to each other for years, and my father and mother love her +dearly. Three weeks ago she arrived at her home in Boston, having been +South four months, and at her earnest solicitation I came also. She knew +my heart and how determined I was to find Mr. Bentley, and felt willing +to aid me in any way possible. We went about the city, and I devoted +myself especially to looking at paintings and statuary. I found at last +by chance a picture with the name, not of 'Bentley,' but of 'Benton' on +it. I traced it to Chicago, and proved it to be his, and there from his +own friends gathered the facts which led me on his track."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I cried.</p> + +<p>"Wait," said she, "More, Miss Minot; he has a wife,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> or at least there +is a poor woman with two boys living in poverty in the suburbs of +Boston, to whom he was married ten years ago. I have been to see her, +but did not disclose my secret. Mrs. Chadwick has known of this for a +long time, but dared not tell me until I got strong, and was in the +North with her. I gave that woman money to help her buy bread, and Mrs. +Chadwick will see to her now. She is a lovely character. Benton's home +is near this place where she lives, and he goes there once in a great +while. Now about my clothes—when I started for this place I was well +clad, and the first of my journey quiet and calm, but I think my +excitement grew intense, and I must have lost myself utterly. I know it +was a week ago when I left Boston, and now as I look back, I remember +looking at my baby's picture and everything growing dim in the cars. +This India shawl was thrown about my neck, but it seems when you found +me I had no other covering. I found the purse where I had sewed it in my +dress, but my cloak and bonnet and furs, all are gone.</p> + +<p>"I can remember how the name of this place kept ringing in my ears, and +I must have asked for it and found it, even though I cannot remember one +word. After the baby's picture your eyes came before me, and then old +Peter."</p> + +<p>Looking at the clock, she said:</p> + +<p>"It is only half an hour since you came in, and will you ask Peter to +come in and see me? I'm sure I hear him talking in the other room."</p> + +<p>I stepped to the door, and there was Matthias.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>I said to Mrs. Goodwin:</p> + +<p>"Miss Harris wishes to see Peter, she says."</p> + +<p>She looked at Matthias, and then said:</p> + +<p>"Well, come in, and we'll find out what she means, if we can."</p> + +<p>He walked solemnly along to her bedside, and stood as if amazed.</p> + +<p>"Peter," said she, "you know me; I am Mary Harris, and you lived with +Mr. Charles Sumner—do say you know me. You said you would deny your +master, and you did it," and she held her hands to him.</p> + +<p>He reached forth his own and took the jewelled fingers tenderly in his +dark palm as if half afraid; then the tears came, forcing their way, and +with an effort he said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! honey chile—can't be pos'ble—what's done happin to ye, and +whar was ye gwine?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Peter, but do you remember the man who painted beautiful +pictures, and stopped awhile with your master's brother?"</p> + +<p>"Sartin, I does."</p> + +<p>"William Bentley he said was his name, but it was Benton; he told us a +story."</p> + +<p>"De great Lord, Molly chile, you's foun' him, sure—de debbil's got a +hold on dat man, an'—"</p> + +<p>But I looked a warning, and he waited.</p> + +<p>"You remember him then, Peter; he had a light moustache, a pleasing +mouth—a very nice young man we thought him to be."</p> + +<p>"Yas, yas, dar's whar de mistake come in, wit dat 'ar mustaff," said +Matthias dreamily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What mistake?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh! de good Lord bress you, honey, what does you want of dis man?"</p> + +<p>"I want to tell him something, and I heard he was here, and now will you +find him for me?"</p> + +<p>"I will, Miss Molly, 'ef I dies dead for it—de Lord help us."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you can?"</p> + +<p>"I knows dat ar to be a fack."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peter! I am glad; where is he?"</p> + +<p>Poor Matthias looked at me, and I said, "Now, Miss Harris, you must not +talk anymore, and I will help Matthias, for I think I know where this +man is."</p> + +<p>She shut her eyes and sank back among her pillows, looking tired and +pale—the knowledge that this destroyer of her hopes was so near was, +though looked for and expected, more than she could really bear.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Goodwin left the room, motioning to Matthias to follow, and I sat +quietly thinking of what to do, when she opened her eyes and said to me:</p> + +<p>"I have written to Mrs. Chadwick, and also to mother, and she will send +mother's letter from Boston. I cannot write to her of this; it would +worry her so; and now, as I can see Wilmur and say to him what I desire, +I shall leave you."</p> + +<p>"It will kill you to see him."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken. I know I look frail, but I can endure much, and I do +not love him any more though he was my Mabel's father. I want him to go +to his poor wife and do right if he can. She loves him and is deluded +into believing the strangest things. Robberies and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> fires and anything +he thinks of are an excuse for not sending her money."</p> + +<p>"Oh! he needs hanging," I said.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Miss Minot; if he is unfit for our society he certainly would +find nobody to love him there; I am not seeking revenge, though his +punishment is sure enough. In two days more I shall be strong enough to +see him. Oh, I do hope Peter will find him!"</p> + +<p>She needed rest, and I said:</p> + +<p>"Now it is best for me to go, and when I come again I would like to +bring a beautiful friend."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she said, "and do come to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>She bade me a reluctant "Good bye," and I told Matthias, I wanted him to +walk home with me.</p> + +<p>My walk homeward with Matthias gave me the needed opportunity to talk +with him, where naught save the air wandering off to the hills could +hear us. I told him of the conversation which I had overheard, and also +that I proposed to take the burden on my own shoulders of revealing to +Miss Harris the fact of Mr. Benton being with us. "For," I said, +"Matthias, it will hardly be safe for you to bear all this. He believes, +I think, that you have helped Miss Harris to find him, and has been +looking out for trouble since you came to us, for he warned both Louis +and myself, and told us not to trust you. He did not, of course, say he +knew you; that would not have done at all. But I will do all she asks, +then your poor old shoulders will be relieved a little."</p> + +<p>"Jes as you say, Miss Emly, pears like its queer nuf an' all happin too, +an' ef he had worn just dat mustaff, without de whiskers, I'd know him +yere straight off. I said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> long nuf, he set me on de tinkin +groun—um—um—here come Mas'r Louis lookin' arter his gal, I reckin, +mighty wise he is; I'd tote a long ways ef 'twas to help him."</p> + +<p>Louis went to the village early and had returned to hear from Clara's +lips my morning discovery, and came to meet me, anxious to learn the +story of the poor lamb, which I rehearsed, having time to tell it all +during the rest of the walk, and ending with "it is strange enough to +make a book," just as we entered our gate.</p> + +<p>Louis said the cloud must break ere long; and when Matthias left I +followed along the path behind him, feeling that Mr. Benton might again +assail him, and I was not mistaken.</p> + +<p>"Look here," came from the angle, and "yas, sah," from Matthias as he +turned to answer.</p> + +<p>"What did you come home with Miss Minot for?" said Benton.</p> + +<p>"Kase she axed me too, sah."</p> + +<p>"Whom has she been to see?"</p> + +<p>"Dat poor gal."</p> + +<p>"Who is that girl, do you know?</p> + +<p>"Yas, sah," said the honest old man.</p> + +<p>"You know more to-day than you did yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Yas, sah."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you tell me who she is."</p> + +<p>"You did'nt ax me, you said did I know?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want any of your nigger talk. I want her name, and by the great +----"</p> + +<p>"Look yer, Mas'r Benton, if you's gwine to dip in an' swar, I'll tote +long by myself."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell me who she is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She tole me she was dat little Molly Harris dat lived down in +Charleston, an—"</p> + +<p>"How in thunder did she get here?"</p> + +<p>"Dunno, sah."</p> + +<p>"You do know, and I tell you you'll make money to tell me all about it."</p> + +<p>"Dunno nothin' moah. I said dat same word, how you git yere, and she say +never min 'bout dat."</p> + +<p>"What else did she say, what does she want?"</p> + +<p>"Wall, de res ob what she tell me, 'pears like she didn't 'spect me +tell. I'll go over thar, an' tell her you wants to know, an—"</p> + +<p>"The devil you will, you impudent rascal—all I want to know is if she +wants to find me."</p> + +<p>"De good Lord, dat's de berry secret I don't want to tell."</p> + +<p>"Ah! ha! my fine fellow, caught at last."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "ef de Lord was right yere in dis vilit angil he'd say +Matt dunno nothin' 'bout how de poor lamb got roun' to dis town."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how to believe this, but now look here, Matt, if you'll go +over there and tell her I've gone to Chicago, I'll do something nice for +you. I'll get you a suit of nicer clothes than you ever had, and a shiny +hat—hey, what do you say?"</p> + +<p>"Mas'r Benton," said Matthias slowly, "I'm never gwine to tell a lie an' +set myself in de place whar Satan hisself can ketch a holt an me. No, +sah, 'pears like I'm ready to do what's right, but dat ain't right +nohow, an' 'pears, too, its mighty funny you's so scart of dat poor +little milk-faced gal. Trus' in de Lord, Mas'r Benton, an' go right on +over thar—she can't hurt you nohow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't talk your nonsense to me; you're on her side, she's bought you, +but I'll be even with you; I'll slap your face now to make a good +beginning."</p> + +<p>"No, sah," said Matthias, "I'm done bein' a slave jes now, an' ef you +want to make me hit you I shall jes do it; fur you no bizness in de law +specially tryin' to put it on a poor ole nigger who can't go by ye +'thout your grabbin' at him jes ready to kill, an' all kase you's done +suthin' you's shamed of an' tinks he knows it. I'm gwine over to the +groun' room."</p> + +<p>I feared Mr. Benton would strike him, and I ran to the gate, and stood +there while Matthias passed out and along the road. Mr. Benton +disappeared suddenly.</p> + +<p>Supper-time was at hand, and there had been no time to tell mother what +I had heard of Miss Harris' history. At the table Ben, as usual, had +inquiries to make, and I said, "Oh! she is better, Ben; you shall see +her, for she will stay a long time."</p> + +<p>"Where did she come from, Emily?"</p> + +<p>From Charleston, South Carolina.</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't that funny?" said he; "that's the very place Matthias came +from, and perhaps she does know him after all."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, she does," I replied, and raising my eyes to meet Mr. Benton's +gaze, I shot the truth at him with a dark glance; his own eyes fell, and +he looked as if overwhelmed with confusing thoughts; and the +consciousness of being foiled roused the demon within him. This, +however, was not the time or place to unbottle his wrath, and it must +swell silently within.</p> + +<p>My father began to feel the shadows thickening round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> him, and he kindly +forbore to say a word regarding the matter, as did also mother. Aunt +Hildy moved a little uneasily in her chair, and I knew she could have +said something as cutting as a knife, but did not. As for me, I could +and did talk on other things, and congratulated myself on another +victory. I afterward told mother all Miss Harris said, and she remarked +quietly:</p> + +<p>"I am very thankful she is his wife."</p> + +<p>"Well, but she isn't," I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, Emily, the previous marriage would be held as the only +lawful tie, but it is much better than it might have been. She has a +good home and parents, and is young. Years will restore her. I cannot +see, however, why she should have taken the pains to find him here."</p> + +<p>"For the reason that she desires to plead with him for the wife and boys +that are in need, and is a strong noble woman too,—why, she will have +the strength of a lion when she gets well, and there is a resolute +determination on her part to place before Mr. Benton a plain picture of +his duty."</p> + +<p>"Hem!" said Aunt Hildy, "she can get her picture all ready and put on +the prettiest paint in the market,—that man will be gone in less than +twenty-four hours. Can't I see which way his sails are set?" Our back +door-sill never was swept cleaner than where this sentence fell.</p> + +<p>"That may be," said mother; "I hope he will, for it seems to me we have +too great a duty to perform if he stays. I feel ill able to undertake +the task."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy turned to hang up her broom, saying as she did so:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'd like to have your sister Phebe give him a lecture—she'd tear him +all to pieces jest as easy as shellin' an ear of corn. I like to hear +her talk; she ain't afraid of all the lies that can be invented. What a +good hit she give Deacon Grover that night when he come in with his +ideas of nothin' spillin' over. She talked good common sense, and hew as +the subject, for it was all about a hypocrite. He did'nt stay to see if +he could get a mug of cider to save his own, but set mighty uneasy and +was off for home before eight o'clock. That done me good."</p> + +<p>That evening was spent by me in conversation with Louis. Next morning at +the breakfast table the subject of the poor lamb was not broached, and +directly after, when the stage came along, Mr. Benton took it to go to +the village on business.</p> + +<p>"There," said Aunt Hildy, "he never'll step on to this door-sill +again—but I would'nt throw a horseshoe after him if I knew it would be +good luck. He don't deserve any."</p> + +<p>"Why, he hasn't taken as much as a carpet-bag," said my father, "of +course, he will be back again."</p> + +<p>"No, sir, Mr. Minot; that feller is up to snuff—he ain't going to stop +now for any duty pictures," and she turned to her work as if satisfied +with having made a true prophecy.</p> + +<p>I spoke to Clara about going over to see Miss Harris, and she felt +inclined to go that morning.</p> + +<p>"Louis, too, may go," she said. "Come, dear boy."</p> + +<p>We were very welcome, and found Miss Harris seated in the old rush-chair +before the fire-place. Her dress was a most becoming wrapper of blue +(she found it in Clara's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> bundle) her hair falling as on the previous +day in natural curls, and the same India shawl thrown over her sloping +shoulders. She was exactly Clara's size, and when the two came together, +Clara said, "We are sisters surely." But afterward, as they sat side by +side, I could see such a difference. Alike in form and complexion, also +having regular features, yet the light in our Clara's eyes was +incomparably purer, savored less of earth. Miss Harris' face was sweet, +truthful, the lines of her mouth alone defining her powerful will and +courage. She was very beautiful, but earthly, while over my own Clara's +face there fell the unmistakable light of something beyond. Oh! my +saving angel, how my heart beat as I sat there drawing the comparison, +giving to Miss Harris a place in the sitting-room of my womanly feeling, +and yielding to my beloved Clara the entire room where lay the purest +thoughts which had been boon to my spirit, coming to life at the touch +of her tender hand! She was a beacon light in the wilderness of thought.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Miss Minot," said Miss Harris, "tell me all you know, for I +feel you do know much."</p> + +<p>I explained Mr. Benton's coming to stay with us, and when I said he took +the stage this morning for town, and will be back, I suppose—</p> + +<p>"Never," she interrupted, "he has heard I am here."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, and repeated his conversation with Matthias.</p> + +<p>"I am then foiled, but he will not elude the truth that goes with him. +He may have gone to his waiting wife. Mrs. Chadwick will write me, for +she will not lose sight of her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>No tears came to her eyes, but the determined look deepened as it were +into strength, and she said:</p> + +<p>"It is too bad. I did hope to be able to make him do his duty. Now I +must hasten to become strong, and go back to Boston. I will find him +yet—I'm sure I will."</p> + +<p>She talked freely of her Southern home, and expressed comfort at the +hope of one day seeing us there.</p> + +<p>"I need a little help to get there myself," she said; "I have no +cloak—can you get one for me, Miss Minot? I am fortunate enough to be +able to pay for it, my purse being with me."</p> + +<p>Louis looked admiringly at the girl-woman (for such she seemed to be), +and when our call ended said to her:</p> + +<p>"When you are strong enough to leave, may you receive great help to do +what seems to be your whole duty; and if little mother or myself can aid +you, please command us."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said, "you remind me much of my dark-eyed Southern +friends." We took our departure. It was only one week after that the old +stage carried her from our sight; but we did not forget her, nor the sad +experience which had developed in her so great a strength.</p> + +<p>Mr. Benton did not return, as Aunt Hildy predicted, and the stage +brought a note for Hal, in which he said he was unavoidably detained, +having found important letters at the village. He would write him a long +letter, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> letter came after ten days' waiting, bearing the +postmark of —— (he was with his wife). He wrote that he was with a +friend, and some unexpected business relations would keep him there for +a time. He desired his belongings sent to him, if it would not trouble +Hal too much. He feared that it would be a long time ere he would be +again situated amongst such pleasant surroundings, "and they are, as you +well know, so much needed by an artist," he said. I do wonder what the +man thought. Hal and Mary had not known Miss Harris' story, but Louis +had read the letter to Hal, and his perfidy was apparent to all. No word +had been said, however, and I presume he (not learning about the +letters) thought Hal still a good friend, which was in fact the case. +Hal said:</p> + +<p>"I would not lose sight of him for the world. Emily, his hand was one of +those which led me across the bridge of sighs when my art was coming to +life, and I shall help him. He may yet need more than we know."</p> + +<p>"We can afford to pity him, but what about his wife, Hal?"</p> + +<p>"His wife I intend to see. Let us hope he will yet prove of some +assistance to her."</p> + +<p>"Good brother! blessed brother! I have felt so angry with him, Hal, but +I will try to be good. Of course Mary will be with you."</p> + +<p>"She thinks he needs a little punishment, but I tell her to be patient, +and to let the days tell us their story."</p> + +<p>"Amen," said the voice of our Clara, who was always in the right place, +"and may we not hope for all the suffering ones. There are bruised +hearts all around us. Let the precious nutriment of our love and care +fall on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> them as the dew, calling forth tender blossoms, whose perfume +may mingle with their lives. Wisdom and strength, my Emily, will help us +to these things, and the prayer of England's church be not so sadly +true."</p> + +<p>It was a relief to us all, and we could take long breaths now that Mr. +Benton had gone, and mysteries solved had opened before us a vista of +quiet days, into which our feet would gladly turn. We had to talk him +over thoroughly, and I was glad to be able to say at last:</p> + +<p>"Peace to his memory; let him rest."</p> + +<p>The letter we expected from the sweet girl-woman came, and we heard each +week of her and her unrewarded search going on. At last, when out from +the snows blue violets sprang, there came a letter, saying,</p> + +<p>"It is done. I found him looking at a lovely picture, one of his own. It +was a fancy sketch, but the face, eyes and hair, those of Mrs. Desmonde, +I know. He had clothed her in exquisitely lovely apparel, and she was +looking out over a waste of waters, but I cannot describe it justly. If +her son were here, he would secure it at any price. I touched his +shoulder; he turned, and with the strangest look in his eyes. He sought +even then to avoid me, thinking probably I might prove a tempest in a +teapot, and make a terrible scene. I said quietly, 'I am only desirious +of two hours' conversation with you;' introduced Mrs. Chadwick to him as +to a friend, and invited him to call; gave him my card and turned away, +naming an hour the ensuing day; for I knew he would come. My manner +disarming him, I really believe he felt relieved to know I was not on +his track with weapons of law. He came, and I received<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> him almost +cordially. The parlor had been left for us, and my friend, at my +request, sat outside the door where she could hear all that passed. Of +course, I cannot tell you what I said, but my revelations were +startlingly true, and he could not gainsay them, neither did he try to. +He seemed rather astonished that I no longer desired his companionship +and the great love which every true woman needs. I answered with spirit, +and just as I felt, that while his love might be boundless, it could no +longer be anything for me. I knew his soul was capable of maintaining +the appearance of purity of thought long enough to delineate its outline +on canvas, and while I admired his talent in verse, I had tasted the +bitter dregs of his falseness, and was now thoroughly undeceived as to +his character. Never again could I be misled by the semblance of a love +which had no reality beneath its honeyed words. I told him also that our +angel Mabel had been orphaned by his cruelty. And oh! how strong I felt +when I said, 'Go to your own wife, whose burden I would not increase by +revealing my own terrible secret. Live for her and those two boys. +Redeem yourself in the eyes of your God as well as before those whom you +have so foully wronged. If you will do this, I will say the peace of +well-doing be with you.' He really felt the power of my words, and +honored me for them, I know, and when he left my presence, he said:</p> + +<p>"'If life should hold for me henceforth some different purposes, would +you be my friend? and if in the great hereafter we shall meet, will +Mabel be with me there? I wish I could have seen her. Forgive me,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> Mary; +you are heaping coals of fire on my head. I thought you sought my utter +destruction.'</p> + +<p>"'My father would have appealed to you only through the law,' I said, +'but that would have been wrong, and would leave you no chance to grow +better. Go, and do right, and there is yet time for redemption.'</p> + +<p>"'But you—what of you?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"'I rise from beneath the weight of sorrow that covered me so early in +life, to find there is yet much worth living for. I shall live and be +happy.' They were not false tears, the drops that fell on my hand at +parting; and I said, after he had gone:</p> + +<p>"'Thank God who giveth me the victory.' My friend expected me to faint +or moan, or make some sign of distress. No, I felt a great joy within, +and I believe he will do better. I inclose to you some verses he sent me +at the time he wrote me the terrible letter of want and despair. They +had their effect, as I told you. Monday I leave for the South; I shall +write you immediately after my return. God bless you all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span>."</p> + +<p>We read the letter together, Clara, Louis and I—and here is the poetry, +which speaks for itself of the talent this man possessed, and tells us, +as Clara said, how fruitful the soil would have proved if it had been +properly tilled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was a poet nerved and strung<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up to the singing pitch you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this since melody first was young<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has evermore been the pitch of woe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was a wistful, winsome thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Guileless as Eve before her fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I drew her 'neath my wing—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wilmur and Mary, that was all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! how I loved her as she crept<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Near and nearer my heart of fire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! how she loved me as I swept<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The master strings of her spirit's lyre!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! with what brooding tenderness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our low words died in her father's hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the meeting clasp, and parting press—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wilmur and Mary, that was all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was a blinded fool, and worse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She was whiter than driven snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so one morning the universe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lost forever its sapphire glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the land, and across the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I felt a horrible shadow crawl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spasm of hell shot over me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wilmur and darkness, that was all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leagues on leagues of solitude lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dun and dreary between us now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in my heart is a terrible cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With clamps of iron across my brow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never again the olden light—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever the sickly, dreadful pall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am alone here in the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wilmur and misery, that is all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the solemn haze that soon will shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the beckoning hand I soon shall see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the fitful glare of the mortal sign<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That bringeth surcease of agony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the dreary glaze of the dying brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the mystic voice that soon will call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the end of all this passion and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wilmur is waiting—that is all.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>The letter and poem finished, we talked long of our new friend, and the +strange experiences brought into our quiet lives, and Clara said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! how long must all the good in the world of thought wait for the +hand of love to open the avenues of work for willing doers! Cannot +strong men weep; and must not angels sorrow to realize the darkness and +the errors where light should dawn, and in a morning of new life men and +women stand as brothers and sisters in the grand work of helping each +other to do all that lies on either hand! Fields whiten for the harvest, +but the reapers are not many. These experiences come to us as teachers, +and oh, Louis and Emily, let your hearts search to find these sorrowing +ones! May your hands never be withheld from the needed alms, and may you +work in quiet love and patience through the years! The mists will shroud +the valley, and ere long, my dear ones, I shall leave you, for I cannot +stay too long away from all that awaits me there. If I had more strength +I could stay longer—but strength is what we need to hold the wings of +our soul closely down, and when the physical chain grows weak, all that +is waiting comes nearer. Spiritual strength grows greater, and the +waiting soul plumes its wings for flight. It does not seem so far, and +Louis, Emily, when my visible presence goes from you, your prayers will +come to me. I shall hear, perhaps I shall answer you also, for I shall +be your guardian angel. Then—is it not beautiful to think of the long, +long years, and no death for evermore?"</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes, and looked serenely happy, but I was weeping +bitterly, and Louis' eyes swam in tears, as he said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Little mother, wait still longer, we cannot let you go."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Louis, my dear boy, it is not now, it may be just a few years yet, +but it is sure to come—and I love to talk with you of this change. It +is natural for us to pass into the next room. If I go I must say all the +things I need to first."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy and mother entered, and we talked again of our new friend +Mary. When God touched me that night with his magic wand, I dreamed of +fairies, and saw wondrous changes at their hands, earth and heaven +strangely mingling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>PRECIOUS THOUGHTS.</h3> + + +<p>I like to drift with the days, and scan them one by one, but as I recall +all that I have written, I say to myself: "Emily must take some long +step now, else the tale of her life will never be told, even though the +changes came day by day, falling drop by drop into the lap of the +waiting years."</p> + +<p>Mother was feeling better, and when the rose-covered days of June came +over us our hearts were singing. Clara seemed well (for her) and I +forebore to grieve over her prophecy of leaving us, though for a few +days after she had said those words, an icy feeling crept over me as I +thought on what they foreboded. I could not see how we could bear to +lose her presence; life without her would be an empty vial, not only for +us, but for all. We loved her devotedly. In this beautiful June I felt +younger than ever before, and believed that the constant saying to +myself, "I will do right," was brightening all the world for me.</p> + +<p>I was twenty-one years old the previous March, and it seemed to me I +looked much younger than when two years ago we saw for the first time +the face of our Clara Desmonde. March was a sort of wild month to find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +one's birthday in, and I never think of it without recalling the saying +of one who had seen hard work and sorrow as well. It was a lady I met +once at Aunt Phebe's, who came to bring a book for her to read, and in +the course of conversation she said:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Hungerford, I was born in March, and have come to the delightful +conclusion that all who dare to be born in this month must fight the +beasts at Ephesus."</p> + +<p>This year I had certainly fought Mr. Benton, and perhaps I should find +another experience in the next March month that came.</p> + +<p>Ben was seventeen years old in January, and this was a great year for +him; he had sought and obtained father's consent to manage a farm for +himself. Hal could not, of course, till the land he owned, and Ben had +made arrangements to do it. He wanted the entire care, and Hal told him +to go right ahead the same as if he owned it all and see what he could +do. This was quite a step, and, as it proved, a successful one. He was +at home in his old room at night, but ate at Hal's table, and Mary said +he was so good they could never keep house without him. I rejoiced that +he could fill a position for which he was fitted, albeit father and Hal +were both disappointed that he could not have book knowledge enough to +place him in some position in public life.</p> + +<p>"That was mere ambition," mother said, and Aunt Phebe remarked +concerning him, that he should be let alone, and to help him to be an +honest man was the wisest course possible.</p> + +<p>"So I think," said Aunt Hildy; "common sense has got power to last a +good while, and high ideas sometimes kill everything."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>Louis was enjoying the summer "hugely," as he expressed it, and Clara +was very willing to aid him in everything he undertook, and he was not +an idle dreamer, for though he did dream beautifully, and talked often +of the fairy land, as he called the home of his pure, good thoughts, he +was a worker in all ways. If a sudden shower threatened the meadow, he +was there with the men, doing all he could to aid them, and not slow to +learn the use of rake and pitchfork. If Aunt Peg needed attention he was +soon over to see her, and when he went to the village, he was the errand +boy for any and all. He became well known among us, and the dear old +home among the hills gave him a hearty welcome. Even Deacon Grover came +to the conclusion that the city chap didn't put on airs, and told me he +should think I'd almost want to catch him, laughing heartily at his own +words. I always disliked this; it is a mark of a small brain to tell a +story or say something witty, and crown your own talk by laughing at +yourself—that would spoil the best joke in the world for me.</p> + +<p>One August afternoon I called Clara to the window to watch Louis and +Matthias coming along slowly together in a close and evidently +interesting conversation. They came in together, and the face of our +dusky friend was covered with the light of a new thought.</p> + +<p>"Why, how happy you look!" I said.</p> + +<p>"He feels happy," answered Louis; "they are going to have a wedding over +at Aunt Peg's, and I am first man."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Matthias, "'pears like I kin get married now. Miss Smith, +she feels lonesome, and I bother her 'bout my vittles, an' we kin set by +one fire jes' as well."</p> + +<p>"I shall write Aunt Phebe to-morrow, and ask her," I said, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Um—um," said he, "reckon she's 'gaged to make me two white shirts +'reddy."</p> + +<p>"Why, when did she know it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! she dunno nothing definite, but she said long ago she'd make 'em +for me when I git married, an' I done come over to see ef you'd sen' a +word about it to her."</p> + +<p>"I will most certainly, but how long before you will be married?"</p> + +<p>"'Bout tree weeks, I guess; haint set on no day. Let Miss Smith do +that."</p> + +<p>"And you'll have a wedding?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Em'ly. For de lan' sake, you don't 'spect we's gwine into dat +yere meetin' 'ouse for de folks to call it a nigger show, duz ye? We's +too ole to be gwine roun' to be laf at."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to plague you, Matthias; please excuse me," for he looked +the least bit provoked. "I'll make some cake, though, and you'll want +witnesses, so Louis and I can come, anyway."</p> + +<p>"'Spect you two need to get used to dat yere ceremony more'n de rest of +de folks yere; yas, you kin come."</p> + +<p>Oh! how Louis laughed at this, saying:</p> + +<p>"There, Emily, Matthias knows too much; look out for breakers when you +talk to him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old man laughed heartily also, and left us to talk over the coming +event.</p> + +<p>"Two shipwrecked lives trying to keep close to the shore of content for +the rest of the journey, that's what they are," said Louis, "and we will +help them, and do God's service by ministering to their small needs, for +'Inasmuch as ye do it unto the least of these, ye do it unto me.'"</p> + +<p>He had so many Scriptural quotations at his tongue's end nowadays, I +often told him he would be a minister, I knew. Many of his days were +spent in the society of Mr. Davis, and they read the Bible through +together. Louis said the New Testament had great charms for him, and Mr. +Davis said to Clara and myself when we called upon him, that the +Scriptures had never been so blessed to his heart as now.</p> + +<p>"Your son," turning to Clara, "is not my student; he has the most lucid +perception, and transfers his thoughts to my heart with wonderful +strength, and yet he stirs the soil of years with tender hand, and never +forgets I am growing old. Some day he will have a pulpit of his own."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it must be! He is like his mother; chosen for the good work. I +delight in his society, and hope never to miss it while I stay. I am not +strong, and some day I fear I shall not be able to preach when the +Sabbath dawns. If I do fail at any time, I shall secure his help." Clara +only said:</p> + +<p>"My dear boy shall do that which he can do well, for there will be no +stumbling blocks laid in his path; if he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> starts right, and I believe he +has, the way will be made plain, and as day unto day shall utter speech, +so night unto night shall show its knowledge."</p> + +<p>"He seems benevolent," said Mr. Davis, "and he will devote much of his +time, and substance as well, to the uplifting of the degraded, and the +exalting of mankind through daily practice."</p> + +<p>"So be it," said Clara; "I shall be glad if he can uplift the lantern +light of truth, that it may shine over all the dark and devious ways of +ignorance, and when my feet shall walk beside his father's on the hills, +may our souls call to him, and his heart receive from us the strength +which our love can give—angels to minister to his wants. Oh! this is +beautiful to think upon."</p> + +<p>The eyes of our good minister filled with tears, and I thought how +wisely and well Clara sows the seed. I felt ashamed to think how +unmindful of this tolerance of ideas I had been when his fiery sermon +aroused my spirit, and I have often since felt that we all possess too +much intolerance each toward the other. Mr. Davis was original in +thought, and had always regilded as it were the old texts in his sermon, +until they could not fail to interest us; and when, yielding to pressure +of conviction regarding eternal punishment, he warned his flock, Clara +judged him rightly, and I was wrong; for while the idea was horrible to +me, I had not wisdom or judgment to express myself, whereas Clara had +opened wide the door of love to his heart, and he received and +acknowledged the baptism of pure and elevating thought.</p> + +<p>His absolute fire died away into the description of conscience torment, +and through his later years the mellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> ripeness of new thought took in +large part the place of the old. Mr. Davis was very anxious concerning +his health, and we did not wonder, for his cheeks grew pale and thin. He +seemed much older than he really was, and in two years of time had +gained ten in the defining face lines. These were, it seemed, +ineffaceable, and as the months wore on grew deeper still.</p> + +<p>Matthias' marriage came off in September, and our whole household were +invited. Aunt Hildy said she'd send them something, "but no weddins for +me," and she shook her head when I asked whether she was going.</p> + +<p>Mother was busy and did not feel like sparing the time, so at last, +Clara, Louis and I went over, and Mrs. Davis came with her husband, who +performed the ceremony in a pleasant way. I think no couple ever had +just such wedding presents. A blanket and some home-spun towels from +Aunt Hildy; a large silk bandana handkerchief, a chintz dress pattern, +and a little bead purse with some bits of gold from Clara (how much I +never knew), and from Louis a load of shingles, and the services of a +carpenter to re-shingle the little house, with some sensible gifts from +Hal and our people. Aunt Peg was beside herself with joy which she could +not express to suit her, and at last she said, "won't try to tell you +nothin'—can't do it."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Davis stayed only a few minutes after the ceremony, but we +three had a long chat with our good friends, and when we left them at +the door, tears of gratitude fell from Aunt Peg's eyes. I looked back, +after we had started toward home, to see them sitting on the door stone +side by side, and their dark faces resting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> in the shadow of the Cyprus +vine was a pleasant picture.</p> + +<p>"Their cup runneth over," said Louis; "I am glad and 'we shall rejoice +with those that rejoice, and mourn, with those that mourn.'"</p> + +<p>"Another Bible quotation, Louis?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "and why may we not have these truths, like blessed +realities, walk side by side with us through life. Every day might let +the sunshine into the room of our thought, through the bars of +understanding that stand as defining lines between them.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davis says you are to be a preacher. I believe you are already," +said I.</p> + +<p>"Would my Emily object? I think not, for has not little mother said, +'Emily will do it, Emily will help you?'"</p> + +<p>I did not answer with words, but my eyes spoke volumes, and he read them +truly.</p> + +<p>Letters came to us monthly from our Southern Mary, and Clara often said +she had hope of seeing her again. Mrs. Chadwick had kept track of Mrs. +Benton, and that strange compound of villainy and taste—her +husband—had really been touched by Mary's plea and was living with his +family. I could hardly believe it, and when Hal stepped in one evening +with "love's fawn" at his side, and a letter from that veritable Benton, +we had a grand surprise. I will not try to tell you of this well written +epistle, but this interesting item I will relate; here are his words: +"You will doubtless be surprised when I say I am married and keeping +house. I found my wife here; she has two nice boys. If you come to this +part of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> globe, as I hope you will, call on us. You will be +welcome."</p> + +<p>"My soul!" said Aunt Hildy, "if the other world did have a fiery pit for +liars, that man would have the best seat, and nearest the fire."</p> + +<p>Mother smiled and said, "He does not know, of course, that we have heard +of this wife, for how should he?"</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly not," said Hal, "and I shall never tell him. Let him do +right if he can, and we perhaps can hardly blame him if he does want to +hold on to the few who have proven their friendship, for I think his +friends do not number many. He needs them all."</p> + +<p>"Judgment is mine saith the Lord," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>"Well, that may be true, but I cannot feel that we are His direct agents +for cursing the man."</p> + +<p>"Neither are we," said Louis, "and if we obey the commandment, 'Love ye +one another,' where can the curse come? No, no, Mrs. Patten, we must +wait for the spirit of the man to grow good and true, and the weakness +of the flesh by this will be overcome; he cannot forget all the wrong, +and probably might recall the words, 'The spirit is willing but the +flesh is weak.'"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Aunt Hildy, "I 'spose that's the Gospel good and true, but +I do get riled at his cuttings up. I've seen 'em before, yes I've seen +'em before."</p> + +<p>And she sat as if feeling her way back through the mist of years. I +wondered what she had suffered, but she kept her own secrets close to +her heart and held steadfastly to the truth doing much good. Her busy +fingers through the long winter evenings kept adding to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> the store of +stockings she was knitting for somebody who needed—and the needy would +surely come in her path.</p> + +<p>Aunt Peg and Matthias were quietly happy, and they came out of church +every Sabbath and walked with a pleasant dignity homeward. Matthias had +memorized the old hymns and he could pick many of them out, having +learned to designate them by their first word or line, and this he +called reading.</p> + +<p>"'Pears like I kin read a few himes, Miss Emily," he said. This is the +way with us through life. It seems to me we get the first word or line +and then go blindly on making mistakes and grievously sinning in our +ignorance, unknowing of the great beauty that awaits us in the perfect +rendering of life's beautiful psalm.</p> + +<p>Clara said we were like children running through a meadow, trampling the +daisies and clovers under our feet, and with breathless impatience +hurrying on through the long day to the fall of night, and when the +sunset of our earthly life came on, pausing then at the corner of the +meadow, we gathered the few tired blossoms at our feet and passed out +into the unknown.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Emily!" she said, "if our steps could be even and slow we should +pick our comfort-daisies and our love-clovers on either side, while our +feet still kept the one small path of our greatest duty; and this to me +is the straight and narrow path spoken of."</p> + +<p>Her types of thought were so purely beautiful, and yet she drew them +from the plainest facts. She was growing nearer heaven daily, or perhaps +we were seeing her soul more clearly through the days. I thought and +comforted myself that we should not lose her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>Louis and I talked sometimes of the coming time when we should receive +the sacred seal of marriage, and when the year for which he asked had +expired and the fall term opened in the seminary, he said:</p> + +<p>"Little mother tells me she cannot let me go back, she is too tired to +live without me. I knew it before she told me; her strength is very +little without mine, and," he added, "even if we do all we can, that +little mother must leave us before many years. You know, Emily, how I +have wanted all my life to be an artist. Perhaps I shall, sometime, but +now before me I can see a need that will bring me into different work, +and it may be also (his eyes were far away) I can, after all, do better +service by painting living faces."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Louis?</p> + +<p>"I mean, Emily, that when the tired hearts we find, feel comfort +creeping over them, the work shines through the eyes and glows within +the smiles that beam upon us. Did we not paint a pleasant picture at the +wedding, and are not these works of art appreciated through endless +time? Will they not repay us with something better than the gold which +we may lose, the earthly things that perish? And again, I have seriously +thought that it is not right for me to take the work that others who +need might have. Side by side with our great love must walk these +truths. I cannot see yet how our future plans are to be arranged, or +where our home will be. What does your good heart say, Emily?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I cannot tell you, Louis. I sometimes imagine a little cosy home +like Hal's, and then it dissolves beyond my reach and I say 'Time will +tell it all.' Your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> mother taught me that one of the greatest lessons in +life is to learn to wait, and move with the tide if we can instead of +against it. These hills are very dear to me."</p> + +<p>"May they never be less!" said Louis, gathering me to himself; while I +reverently thought, "How glorious a manhood is his! how great the love +he gives me!"</p> + +<p>Time passed rapidly. Ben's first season as a real farmer had passed, and +storehouse and barn were filled. His hands grew strong and his blows +were telling. A handsome woodpile was one of the things he was truly +proud of, and everything was done in good season and with perfect +system. Hal said that he and Mary were living with Ben. Father was +surprised at his success, and when, in the winter, he walked in with a +dozen brooms of his own make, Aunt Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"Industry and economy were two virtues that the Lord would see well +rewarded. You'll be a rich man and a generous one too. Wish your Aunt +Phebe'd come up to see us."</p> + +<p>"She's coming," said Ben. "I've written to her to come to our house and +stay a week. I want her to come and see my broom-corn room. I'll bet +she'll be interested in it, and I'm going to give her six brooms to take +home with her. But did you know Deacon Grover's very sick?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, indeed!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, he is, and Mrs. Grover wants Louis to come over. He'd better go +back with me. They expect he'll die; he is troubled to breathe."</p> + +<p>I called Louis and he went over. He came back to supper and told us he +was going to stay with him all night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mr. Davis says he cannot save his life, and they are to have Dr. Brown +from the village. The man is terribly frightened; he knows he must go. +He says he's afraid he has been too mean to get into heaven, and he +moans piteously. His poor wife is nearly distracted."</p> + +<p>"Shall I go with you, Louis?" I said.</p> + +<p>"You might go over but I hardly think I need you all night there. He has +been ill more than a week. I should not be surprised if he left us +before morning."</p> + +<p>"Small loss to us," said Aunt Hildy, "but if the poor critter knows he's +been mean, perhaps he'll see his way through better. I'll go over if it +wont torment him."</p> + +<p>"You are just the one," said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope I sha'nt set him to thinking about—never mind what I say. +Let me get my herb bag and start along."</p> + +<p>We found the poor man no better, and wise Dr. Brown shook his head +ominously. He was a regular grave-yard doctor, and I thought it a pity +to set up the deacon's tomb-stone while yet he breathed. His poor wife +was taking on terribly (as Aunt Hildy expressed it). When Deacon Grover +saw Louis he tried to speak. Louis went near and took his hand, and he +whispered:</p> + +<p>"Peace, you bring me peace."</p> + +<p>"It is all right over there," said Louis; "do not fear."</p> + +<p>"All right," said the sufferer, and then, looking at his wife, he said, +"Be her friend." A smile passed over his face, his eyes closed, and +Deacon Grover was dead.</p> + +<p>Mr. Goodman and Matthias came over to help Louis lay him out, and his +funeral took place from the church the following Sunday. Louis was a +great help to Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> Grover and she needed all the aid he could give. Her +spirits were broken in her early days, and she followed the deacon in a +little less than a year, her brain failing rapidly, her body having been +weak for years.</p> + +<p>Many changes had occurred during this year of my life, and when the +beads upon my rosary of years numbered twenty-two, it seemed hardly a +day since I had counted twenty-one. How little time from one birthday to +another, and in childhood how long the time between!</p> + +<p>I was growing older, and the days challenged each other in their +swiftness, but they were all pleasant to me, even though the church-bell +often tolled the passing of souls, and the quiet of our hills was broken +by the ringing of improvement's hammer as it fell on the anvil of our +possessions. Long lines of streets passed through the meadow-lands, and +where, in less level places, rocks and stones were in the path, the +power of inventive genius was applied and the victory gained. Some of +our people felt it keenly. To father it was an advantage, but to Aunt +Hildy, the opposite.</p> + +<p>"Goin' to pass right through my nest, Mr. Minot, and I tell you it aint +so easy to think of that spot of ground as a grave-yard. 'Twont be +nothin' else to me, never. Oh, the years I bury there!"</p> + +<p>Father ventured to suggest remuneration.</p> + +<p>"No, no, nothin' can't pay; they don't know it, Mr. Minot, but it's a +bitter pill." And a shadow overspread her resolute features. She +determined on making our house her home "forever and a day arter" she +said, and bore it as patiently as she could; but I saw great drops fall +from her eyes as she looked over to that little home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> and watched its +demolition. She said she had prayed for a strong wind to do the work, +but this was not granted. My own heart leaped to my throat in sympathy, +but knowing her so well I said nothing.</p> + +<p>Louis was more than busy. I wondered when my birthday came if he would +remember it. He did, and all the evening of that day we sat together and +talked of our future.</p> + +<p>"Emily, I am feeling glad to-night; my heart sings loud for joy. You +cannot think how beautiful you have grown in my eyes; even though you +filled my heart long days ago, that heart-room does expand with growth, +and your queenly beauty still fills it to completeness. Let your hair +fall over your shoulders; look out over the future days with your +speaking eyes as if you were a picture, my Emily." And as he said this +my shell-comb was in his hand and my long and heavy hair lay about me +like a mantle. He liked to see it so, and I sat as if receiving a +blessed benediction.</p> + +<p>"Can you see nothing before you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Mists, like drapery curtains, shade the days," I said: "What is it you +would have me find?"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Find the month of June's dear roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find a trellis and a vine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask your heart, my queenly darling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the sun will on us shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my heart, love's waiting trellis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then receive its clinging vine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I spoken well and truly?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does your soul like mine decide?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with June's dear wealth of roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I claim you for a bride?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do the old hills answer, darling?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto me they seem to say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Two young hearts in truth have waited;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emily may name the day.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +As the words of his impromptu verse died away, the moon, looking through +the rifted clouds, beamed an affirmation, and I said:</p> + +<p>"Let June be the month, Louis; the day shall name itself."</p> + +<p>Clara called: "It is nine o'clock, my dear ones;" and we said "good +night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>EMILY'S MARRIAGE.</h3> + + +<p>Louis' birthday came on the 24th of June, and it seemed very appropriate +to me that this should be the day of our wedding, and, as I said to him; +the day named itself, and it also came on Sunday. I had no thought of +being married in the old church, but Louis was positive that it would be +best.</p> + +<p>"You know," he said, "that all these good people around us feel an +interest very natural to those who are acquainted with everybody in +their own little town. They will enjoy our marriage in the church where +all can come and none be slighted, and the evening after they can be +invited to call on us at home."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis!" I said, "I would much rather go quietly over to Mr. +Davis'."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Emily," he replied, "to take one of our pleasant walks over the +hill and step in there; but after all I can see how it will be wiser for +us not to be selfish in this matter. Never mind how we feel: these +friends of ours are of much account, and the many new thoughts that +brighten their existence as well as our own must fall, I believe, on us +as a people as well as individually. A private wedding will cause unkind +remarks, and perhaps un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>pleasant feelings, and idle conjectures may grow +to be stern realities. Let us avoid all this, and as we have heretofore +been among them, let us still keep our vessel close to the shore of +their understanding, though we may often drift out into the ocean unseen +by them, and gather to ourselves the pearls of new and strengthening +thought 'Let him who would be chief among you be your servant.' Do you +understand me?"</p> + +<p>"I do, Louis, and 'Emily will do it,' for she knows you are right; but I +should never have thought of it; and now another important +consideration."</p> + +<p>"The bridal robe?" said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "just that; the thought of being elaborately dressed is +distasteful to me as well as unsuited to our desires, for a wedding +display would certainly arouse the spirit of envy if nothing more."</p> + +<p>"Trust that to little mother, Emily; she desires to have that privilege, +I know."</p> + +<p>"Let it be so."</p> + +<p>And here we fixed the arrangement for the birthday and wedding day to be +one; but it came on a Sunday, and hence the necessity of a talk with Mr. +Davis, which resulted in the arranging for a short afternoon sermon, and +after it the ceremony. We were not to enter the church until the proper +moment, and Ben said he could manage it, for when the minister began his +last prayer he would climb the rickety ladder into the old square box of +a belfry and hang out a yard of white cloth on a stick.</p> + +<p>"And then," he added, "you can jump right into the wagon and be there in +three minutes."</p> + +<p>He was the most perfect boy to plan at a moment's no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>tice, but Louis +told him not to hazard his life on the belfry ladder for we could manage +it all without.</p> + +<p>"And besides," he said, "you, Ben, must walk into church with us; we are +not going unprotected. Hal and Mary, Ben and little mother, and Mr. +Minot with his wife and Aunt Hildy. That is the programme as I have it."</p> + +<p>You should have seen those eyes of the young farmer dilate with surprise +as he gave a long and significant whistle and turned toward home, +doubtless thinking to surprise Hal and Mary with this new chapter in his +experience.</p> + +<p>The 10th day of June brought us a letter from Aunt Phebe with news of +her marriage.</p> + +<p>"Weddins don't never go alone more'n funerals," said Aunt Hildy. "Here +Miss Hungerford's been married since February, and we've just heard tell +of it. Hope she's got a good, sensible man, but 'taint likely; no two +very sensible folks get very near each other, that is, for life. She's a +good woman. What does he do to git a livin'?"</p> + +<p>"Teaches school," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Hem!" said she, "school teachers don't generally know much else. +Eddicated men aint great on homelife; they want a monstrous sight of +waitin' on."</p> + +<p>"Let us hope for the best in this case," said I. "Here comes Matthias; +he knows Mr. Dayton, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Yas, Miss Em'ly, I does," said Matthias, who heard my last remark.</p> + +<p>"Is he a nice man?"</p> + +<p>"Um, um! reckin that jes' hits dat man; why, de good Lord bress us ef +dat man ha'nt done, like he was sent,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> fur de slaves, Miss Em'ly. He +knows jes' whar dat track is,—de down-low track, I means, whar de +'scapin' from de debbil comes good to dese yere people when dey gits +free. Mas'r Sumner an' a'heap mo' on 'em would jes' like fur to kill dat +Mas'r Dayton ef dey could cotch him. Preaches like mad his ablishun +doctrine, as he call it, an' down on rum, sure sartin. He works jes' all +de time fur de leas' pay you never heard tell of. Is he comin' up yere?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so, some time; but he is Aunt Phebe's husband now, and we want +to know something about him."</p> + +<p>"I reckin dat ye needn't be oneasy, honey, 'bout dat, fur Miss +Hungerford is 'zackly de one fur to take ker ob dat man; he's got his +head 'way up 'mong de stars, an' 'way down in de figgerin' mos' all de +time."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that he is an astronomer, Matthias?"</p> + +<p>"Dunno nothin' 'bout dat, but he looks into de stars straight through a +shiny pipe, Miss Em'ly, dat he sticks up on tree leg; an' when dem peart +fellers In dat college where dey lives, gits into figgerin whar dey's +done stuck and can't do it no how, dey comes right down to dat man, an' +he trabbles 'em right out ob all dese yere diffikilties. Um, um! dat man +knows a heap ob dem tings. Miss Hungerford's all right. 'Pears like +dere's good deal ob marryin' roun' de diggins."</p> + +<p>"You set the example," I said, "and the rest must follow. Louis and I +expect your hearty congratulations when our day comes to step out of the +world."</p> + +<p>"You kin 'pend on good arnest wishes for a heap o' comfort, Miss Em'ly, +but 'stead o' leavin' the world you jes' gits into it; dunno nothin' +'bout livin' till ye hev to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> min' eberything yourself. But I 'spect +you'll walk along purty happy-like, fur Mas'r Louis he's done got hevin +right in his soul, an' you, Miss Em'ly, 'pears like you's good enough +fur him."</p> + +<p>And the old man stood before me like a picture, his eyes beaming with +the thoughts which filled his soul, utterance to which he could not +wholly give; and I thought they grew like a fire within him, and that +some day, beyond the pale of human life, they would speak with force and +power, and all the buds of beauty there burst into flowers of eternal +loveliness. And I said to him, as he rose to go:</p> + +<p>"Your good wishes are worth much to me; I want you always for my +faithful friend."</p> + +<p>"Dat's jes' what I'se gwine to be," he replied, and as he passed along +the path, I thought I saw the corner of his coat sleeve near his eye.</p> + +<p>The 24th of June was a royal day. The blue sky flecked with fleecy +clouds sailing over us like promises; the air sweet with the mingling +breath of flowers (we had multitudes of them about us). The south wind +came up to us as pleasant breaths that sought our own, and the robins +and blue-birds sang in the trees all day the song, "It is well." My +heart echoed their music, and I moved in a dream, and when I felt +Clara's fingers wandering over my hair I could not realize that her +noble Louis was waiting to claim me as his wife—plain Emily Minot. But +the blue-birds' "It is well" covered all these thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Just a white dress, Emily, and violets to fasten your hair," said +Clara, "which I will coax to curl for this one day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so, from under her hands, I came in a simple toilette of white mull, +with my much-loved violets fastened at my throat and nestling among my +black hair. Not a jewel save the ring that Louis had given me in the +days before, and the chain, which was just one shining thread about my +throat. I must have looked happy, but more than this I could not see, +even though I hazarded a long, full look in Clara's mirror.</p> + +<p>But Louis, ah! he should have stood beside a princess, I thought. It was +contrast, not comparison, when I stopped to realize the difference. It +was not his garb that made him regal, for he was clad in a suit of +simple black with a vest and necktie of spotless white.</p> + +<p>"A violet or two in your coat lappel?" said Clara.</p> + +<p>"No, no, little mother; my royal rose begirt with violets will stand +beside me. Put them in your own brown hair."</p> + +<p>And he smiled, as taking them from her hand he placed them in her hair.</p> + +<p>"Just a veil over your head, little mother; no bonnets among the wedding +party."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy insisted at first that she could not "parade around that +church and stand up there before the minister. I'd feel like a reg'lar +idiot, Louis."</p> + +<p>At last she changed her mind, but preferred to walk with Ben, and he, +who always loved her well, did not object.</p> + +<p>So our entrance by one of the side aisles (the body of the church was +filled with pews) was in the following order: Father, mother and Clara, +Louis and Emily, Hal and Mary, and Ben and Aunt Hildy. The latter would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +walk to the church anyway, and when our old carryall reached the door, I +felt like screaming to see her sitting there on the steps fanning +herself with her turkey-feather fan and waiting for us to appear. We all +entered with uncovered heads, and as our feet crossed the threshold the +choir sang one verse of "Praise ye the Lord." Mr. Davis had descended +from his pulpit and stood before it upon a little elevated platform +arranged for special occasions. Mother, father and Clara passed him +where he stood, leaving the place for Louis and myself before him, with +Hal and Mary, Ben and Aunt Hildy at Louis' left. It was a short and +beautifully-worded ceremony, and when my eyes, already moist, looked +upward to the pulpit and noticed a drapery of rose and vine which +encircled it, those same tears fell fast over my cheeks, and while +Louis' "I will" fell as a clear and strong response upon the air, my own +assent was given silently and with only a slight bowing of my head, my +lips murmuring not a syllable. After pronouncing us man and wife, Mr. +Davis, at Louis' request, gave an invitation to all our friends to call +on us the following evening, and again the choir and the people sang +sweetly and with great feeling, as, turning, we passed down the opposite +aisle toward the door.</p> + +<p>When about half way to the door I was conscious of seeing Aunt Peg and +Matthias; a moment more, and she with her white apron, and he with his +high hat full of roses, were walking before us and throwing them in our +path.</p> + +<p>When we reached the door they stepped to either side, and still throwing +roses, Matthias said in a tone I shall never forget:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"May de days do for ye jes' what we's doin' now, scatter de roses right +afore ye clear to de end ob de journey."</p> + +<p>This touched our hearts, and when we got into the carryall all eyes were +moist, and I of course was crying as if my best friend were dead. Aunt +Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"Lord-a-massy! wonder he hadn't hit us in the head; that's the queerest +caper I ever did see."</p> + +<p>We all laughed heartily, and Louis said:</p> + +<p>"My Emily, you are a rainbow of promise; the sun shines through your +tears."</p> + +<p>We had made preparations to receive our friends Monday evening, and had +huge loaves of cake awaiting with lemonade, and something warm for those +who desired it. An ancient service of rare and unique design was brought +out by Clara for the occasion. It belonged to her husband's family in +France and came to him as an heirloom. The contrast between it and the +mulberry set which mother gave me struck me as singular, but the flowers +and figures of the mulberry ware did not fall into insignificance. They +were to me the embodiment of beauty. Among my earliest disappointments +was the giving of grandmother's china to Hal, and I cried for "just one +saucer," and this was a fac-simile and met a hearty appreciation. I +bedewed it with tears, and Aunt Hildy said it was dretful dangerous to +give me anything, and she should'nt try it.</p> + +<p>"You'll want two or three handkerchiefs to cry on to-night, for the +folks'll bring over a lot o' things to you."</p> + +<p>"I do not expect a single present, neither desire any if I have to make +a speech," I said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Keep close to me, Emily," said Louis, "and I will make the speeches if +it becomes a duty."</p> + +<p>I feared Clara would get tired out, but she said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, they will come early, you know, and go away early also, and +with you and Louis to hold me up I shall be borne on wings!"</p> + +<p>At six o'clock they began to appear. We had our supper at four, and were +ready to receive them. Louis and I sat in Clara's sitting-room, and Aunt +Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"It's my business to 'tend to the comin' in. 'Better to be a door-keeper +in the house of the Lord, than dwell in the tents of wickedness;' so +that's settled." And with this she established herself in a chair before +the open door. Mother was near to assist, and I smiled to hear Aunt +Hildy repeat:</p> + +<p>"Good arternoon; lay by your things," until I thought her lips must be +parched with their constant use. I was not prepared for the +demonstration of love and friendship coming from these people of our +town; for, until Louis and Clara came to us, I had, as I told you in the +beginning of my story, not longed for their society, and had found few +for whom I really cared. It was only from learning my duty, when my +eyes, with the years and the wisdom Clara brought, were opened, that I +could see the advantage gained by considering with respect even those +whom I had dominated as selfish. Miserly and mean Jane North had grown +into a different woman, and Deacon Grover had left us, blessing the love +and strength of this wisdom which brought peace to cover the last hour +of struggle; and many hearts, in the quiet ministering of one angel, had +been touched. Home friends<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> were growing round us I knew, but I had no +realization of things as they really were, and the events of this +greeting gave me a substantial evidence which was to my soul a platform. +On it I reared a temple of love, and in the windows of my temple every +face and heart and gift were set, as pure crystal in the sash of +delightful remembrance.</p> + +<p>First came the Goodins, and their hands yielded to us thoroughly +appreciated gifts: one dozen linen towels spun, woven and bleached by +the hands of Mrs. Goodwin; her husband adding for Louis the solid silver +knee and shoe buckles his grandfather wore when a revolutionary officer, +the trusty sword that hung by his side, and his uniform coat with its +huge brass buttons, with the trunk of red cedar where for years they +have been kept.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," we both said simultaneously, and they passed along for +others to come near. Not one of all that country town forbore to come +and bring also tokens of their kindly feeling. Among the early arrivals +was Jane North. I heard Matthias say:</p> + +<p>"Be ye goin' to tote it in there?" and, as Jane answered resolutely, "I +certainly am," I looked toward the door to see what it was that was +approaching. At my feet Matthias dropped his burden, and the donor said:</p> + +<p>"There is a goose-feather bed and a pair of pillows, and I picked every +feather of 'em off my geese; them two linen sheets and two pair of +piller-cases done up with 'em I made myself. I want you to use that bed +in your own room, Mis' <i>De</i>-Mond (I started to hear that name applied to +myself), and for the sake of the good Lord<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> who sent salvation to me +through your blessed mother-in-law, in prayer for yourself don't never +forget me. I've said all the hateful things I ever mean to."</p> + +<p>She held her hands out to us both, and we mingled our tears of gratitude +with those that filled her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I said.</p> + +<p>"God bless your true heart," said Louis, "and may your last days be your +happiest."</p> + +<p>"Amen," said Jane, and she passed into the next room, Matthias putting +the present in a corner where it would take less space. Mr. Davis +followed her, and beside him stood a clock which father had helped him +to bring in.</p> + +<p>"This clock, my young friends, is the one which has stood in the corner +of my study for years. I have taken an especial pride in its unvarying +correctness, and the man in the moon is unfailing in his calculation, +showing his face at the appropriate season. The clock's tick is strong +and well becomes the old veteran, and the coat of mahogany he wears is +one that can never need a stitch. To you, above all others, I would +yield this treasure; it is worth far more to me than any gift I might +purchase, and I know that you," turning to Louis, "rejoice in keeping +bright the old-time landmarks linking forever the past and the present."</p> + +<p>This brought Louis to his feet, and Clara and myself rose too, for his +arms encircled us.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davis," he said, grasping his outstretched hand, "you have done me +great honor; may I have the pleasure to retain through endless ages the +confidence you place in me and my blessed wife, my Emily."</p> + +<p>"The years will brighten the lustre of your true heart,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> said Mr. +Davis; and here his wife handed me a patchwork quilt, while her husband +said:</p> + +<p>"May your lives and loves be welded by a double chain as long as my +wife's handiwork shall last."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me I could not bear all this, and when father came forward +at this moment and handed me a deed of some of his best land, I should, +I believe, have screamed had not Louis' hand held me tightly. Gifts +multiplied like flakes of falling snow, until we were surrounded by +them. I can only mention a few more, and before me rise plainly now the +faces of Aunt Peg and Matthias, as bowing low before me they laid at our +feet their offerings.</p> + +<p>"Only jest a little intment; that's all they is when we looks at the +rest; but we wanted to bring you sunthin'," said Aunt Peg.</p> + +<p>A beautiful mat bordered with her own choice of bright colors, a +clothes-basket made by Matthias, and in the latter three pairs of +beautifully-knitted wool stockings for Louis.</p> + +<p>"Peg spun dis wool," said Matthias, "an' de stockins is good: dis +baskit," he added despairingly, "I tried my bes' to put some sky color +on, but I reckin ef de bluin' bottle had jes' spill over it 'twould do +more colorin' and better too. May de Lord help ye to live an' war it +out, and then I'll make another."</p> + +<p>"That was a good speech," said Louis, and we shook hands with these two +white-hearted friends, and they also passed on out of sight, leaving me +still at the mercy of the coming.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me there could be nothing more to come,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> when a loud "baa, +baa" started us, and Ben appeared, leading the whitest little lamb you +ever saw. He had tied a blue ribbon about its neck, and it trotted along +up to us as if pleased with the novelty of its situation.</p> + +<p>"Your namesake and my gift," said Ben. I was truly surprised, but +thanked him heartily, and the friends about us laughed immoderately. +This caused the lamb to look for some way out, and Ben went with it at a +quick pace, shouting back, "I raised Emily myself, and she's a beauty." +The next surprise was from Hal and Mary—two pieces from the hand of my +artist brother, "Love's Fawn," and "Aunt Hildy." Duplicates of these +were at that time hastening across the water with Mr. Hanson, who was +anxious to take a venture over for Hal. When they were placed before us, +Louis and myself exclaimed admiringly:</p> + +<p>"How beautiful!"</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy, who stood near, said, "There, Halbert Minot, you've done it +now!" and passed, like a swift wind through the room. I feared she felt +hurt, but was disarmed of this thought, for she returned in a moment, +and over the statuette she threw her old Camlet cloak.</p> + +<p>"That is my present to you two," she said, standing beside it as if +empowered with authority. "To God's children I give this, and you shall +share it with 'em. I make one provision," she added. "Mis' +Hungerford-Dayton is to have the sleeves for carpet-rags; you can cut it +up when she comes. It's all I've got to give; but the Lord will make it +blest." We took this as a crowning joke; and still to me it seemed to +embrace a solid something, and set me dreaming.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the hour of ten arrived the last of our guests were leaving; and, +as I stood at the door with Louis saying "Good-night," the echo of the +words went ringing over the hills; and when it fluttered back, seemed to +my heart to say, "It will be morning soon."</p> + +<p>As we went into the sitting-room, Clara said: "Now that the guests have +all examined my gifts, it will do for my dear ones to look also," and +she led the way into our old middle-room, and pointing to the antique +service, said:</p> + +<p>"These are yours; I have them for my boy. There are false bottoms to the +three largest pieces, and within them you will find the gift your father +left you, Louis, to be given to you when you should become a man. I did +not tell the others of this," she added. "Here, my Emily, is something +you I know will prize,—the set of pearls my Louis Robert gave me on my +wedding day. They are very valuable. Keep them; and if changes should +ever bring want before you, you have a fortune here. See how beautiful +they are." And she held up a string of large, round pearls to which +clung an ornament, in shape somewhat like an anchor, of the same +precious gems, two of which were pear-shaped and very large. The +ear-rings and brooch were of the most exquisite pattern. I had never +seen anything so beautiful, and had no word for expression, and Clara +said:</p> + +<p>"Your eyes tell it all, my royal Emily; you are tired, and the night is +here."</p> + +<p>Then, kissing us both good-night, Louis gathered her in his arms and +carried her over the stairs, saying, as he turned to come down:</p> + +<p>"Pleasant dreams, my fairy mother; your hand is a magic wand."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>MARRIED LIFE.</h3> + + +<p>I could hardly see where we had room for all the gifts that came to us, +for Clara's part of the house was well filled, and Aunt Hildy's +belongings took nearly all the upstairs room we could spare; but by +moving and shifting, and using a little gumption, as Aunt Hildy +expressed it, they were all disposed of properly.</p> + +<p>The clock occupied a corner in Louis' room, which had been Hal's studio, +and was now to belong, with one other on Clara's side, to us two. Mother +had said before our marriage:</p> + +<p>"I can never let Emily go unless it be absolutely necessary. The boys +are both settled, and I desire Emily to remain here. It would be lonely +for her father and myself should she leave us."</p> + +<p>I had no wish to do so, and Louis and Clara were as one in this matter; +so we were to live right on together, and the convenient situation of +the rooms made it pleasant for all concerned.</p> + +<p>"Don't want no men folks round under foot," Aunt Hildy said, and there +was no need for it, for Louis' room, while accessible, was out of the +way, and it seemed to me as if the plan had fallen from a hand that knew +our wants<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> better than we knew ourselves. What Louis' work would be, I +could not say, neither could he. To use his own language, as we talked +together of the coming days, "I am to be ready to do daily all that my +hand finds to do; and the work for which I am fitted will, I trust, fall +directly before me." He had a right to be called the "Town's Friend," I +thought, for his active brain and tender heart were constantly bringing +before him some errand of mercy, or act of charity, all of which were +willingly and well performed.</p> + +<p>It was not long after our marriage that he was called on to fill Mr. +Davis' place in the pulpit. I trembled to think of it; but you should +have seen Clara when, as we entered the church together, he passed the +pew door to follow Mr. Davis to the pulpit; for the latter, though from +weakness of the bronchial tubes unable to speak, was anxious to be by +the side of his friend, as he verified his prediction. There was a glory +covering Clara's face, and her eyes turned full upon her boy with an +unwavering light of steadfast faith in his power and goodness, as from +his lips fell the text, "If a man die shall he live again?"</p> + +<p>His opening prayer was impressively simple, and the text, it seemed to +me, just like a door which, swinging on its hinges, brought full before +his vision the picture of the life that is and the life that is to come. +His illustrations were so naturally drawn, and so beautifully fitted to +the needs of our earthly and spiritual existence, that I knew no words +had ever thrown around the old church people so wondrous a garment of +well-fitted thought.</p> + +<p>"If this is all," he said, "this living from day to day, oppressed with +the needs of the flesh, we have nothing to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> be thankful for; but if, as +I can both see and know, man lives again, we have all to give great +praise, and also rejoice through our deeds, that we are the children of +the eternal Father."</p> + +<p>Not a word of utter darkness, not a terrifying picture of a wrathful and +impatient God did he draw, but it was all tenderness and love that found +its way to the hearts of all his hearers; and when, in his own blessed +way, he pronounced the benediction, I felt that a full wave of kindness +covered us all, and I said in my heart:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis, Emily will help you; Emily will do it!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis' eyes were bright with gratitude and great joy as he greeted +us after the service, and he whispered to me:</p> + +<p>"You are the wife of a minister."</p> + +<p>This was only a beginning, and for months after, every other Sabbath +Louis occupied the pulpit, and to the surprise of Mr. Davis, all those +who had become interested in the dispensation of Mr. Ballou, and who had +now for a long time been to the church where we had heard the sermon +which came as dew to my hungry soul, began to come again to the old +church. Louis' preaching drew them there, and they settled in their old +place to hear, as they expressed it, "the best sermons that ever were +preached." This was pleasant. Louis had said:</p> + +<p>"I cannot subscribe to the articles of your creed, or of any other, but +am willing and anxious to express to others the thoughts that are within +me."</p> + +<p>This made no difference, for they knew he spoke truly, and also that the +armor of his righteousness was made of the good deeds which he performed +daily. It helped Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> Davis along, and after a time his health became +better; but even then he insisted on Louis preaching often, which he +gladly did.</p> + +<p>On the Christmas of this year, 1846, there was service as usual at our +church, and both Mr. Davis and Louis occupied the pulpit. A Christmas +service was not usual save in the Episcopal church, but Mr. Davis asked +this privilege. His father had been a strict Episcopalian, and he had +learned in his early years to love that church. Our people were not loth +to grant his request, and I think this Christmas will never be +forgotten.</p> + +<p>We took supper at Hal's with Aunt Phebe, who had come with her husband +to pay us, what Mr. Dayton termed, "a young visit." He had perfect +knowledge of the English language, and power to express himself not only +with words, but with a most characteristic combination of them. He said +his wife felt anxious that he should be on amicable terms with her +consanguineous friends, but he expected we should attribute less of +goodness to him than to her, for "Phebe Ann" was a remarkable woman. +"And this," he added, "is why she appreciates me."</p> + +<p>Ben tried in vain to interest him more than a few moments at a time, +even though he displayed his young stock and invited him into the +broom-corn room.</p> + +<p>It was not till he espied a Daboll's Arithmetic in Hal's studio that he +became interested in the belongings of that house, albeit Hal and Mary +had shown him the statuary they so much prized. He looked at the +statuettes and remarked to Hal:</p> + +<p>"You do that better than I do, but what after all does<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> it amount to? It +never will save a man from sin; never break a fetter, or dash away a +wine-cup. But what do you know about figures? Do you think you know very +much?"</p> + +<p>"Not as much as I wish," Ben answered, as Hal smiled at the plain +question.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said Mr. Dayton; "and the very best thing you can do, +young man, is to come down to my house, or perhaps I can come up here, +and gather some really useful and necessary information about figures. +It will make a man of you. I guess you're a pretty good boy, and you +only need brightening up a little."</p> + +<p>Hal replied: "I wish you would, Uncle Dayton; that is just what I should +like."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "it wouldn't do you any hurt to come with him."</p> + +<p>"I should come, too," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Come right along," was the reply. At supper time he said he preferred a +simple dish of bread and milk, which he seemed to enjoy greatly, and all +the niceties Mary had prepared were set aside unnoticed.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what day you were born on, Ben?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I know the day of the month, sir, but not the day of the week."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the day of the month and year and I will tell you the day of +the week."</p> + +<p>"September 6, 1828."</p> + +<p>"Let's see," said the philosopher, turning his eyes to the ceiling; +"that came on Saturday."</p> + +<p>We all asked the solving of this problem, and the in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>stantaneous result +seemed wonderful. After supper, at our request, he told us his history, +and when we realized that this man had gained for himself all his +knowledge, we looked on him as one coming from wonderland. It was hardly +credible that he should have power to solve the most difficult +mathematical problems, calculate eclipses, as well as do all that could +be required in civil or hydraulic engineering, and that he had +accomplished this by his own will, which, pushing aside all obstacles, +fought for the supremacy of his brain life. His father desired him to +have no book knowledge, and he told us that when a young boy he would +wait for sleep to close his father's eyes, and would then, by the light +of pitch-pine knots and birch-bark in the fireplace, pursue his studies. +This was pursuing knowledge under difficulties which would have proved +insurmountable to many. But not so to Mr. Dayton, for he steadily +gained; and though to an utter disregard for his unquenchable thirst for +knowledge was added the daily fight for bread, he rose triumphantly +above these difficulties, and mastered the most intricate mathematical +calculation with the ease which is born only of a superior development +of brain. Matthias had told us truly, and when he left us for his home +we felt that in him we found new strength for much that was good and +true, and for abhorrence of evil.</p> + +<p>During this visit the Camlet cloak was brought out, and Aunt Phebe and I +together ripped out the sleeves. She said they would make a splendid +green stripe in a carpet, and in her quiet, careful way she sat removing +their linings, when she started as if frightened, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Why, Emily, what on earth does this mean?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is it?" I said, and she held before me in her hand a long brown +paper, and within its folds were two bills of equal denomination.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if this one has anything in it?" I said, and even as I said it +my fingers came upon a similarly folded paper, and two more bills were +brought to light. They were a valuable gift, and Aunt Phebe's gratitude +gave vent in a forcible way, I knew, for Aunt Hildy told me afterward +she thanked her "e'en a'most to death." I could hardly wait to rip the +body of the cloak, and my surprise was unbounded when I discovered its +contents.</p> + +<p>There were two sums of money left in trust with us, and in her dear, +good way she had made us wondrously grateful to her for the faith she +had reposed in us; a deed of some of her land, which the street had cut +into, which she desired us to use for some one who was needy, unless we +ourselves needed it; and in the last sentences of her message to us she +said:</p> + +<p>"If ever anybody belongin' to me comes in your path, give 'em a lift. I +can trust you to do it, and the Lord will spare your lives, I know. +Don't tell any livin' soul, Emily." This was a sacred message to both +Louis and myself, and I should feel it sacrilege to write it all out +here, even though I much desire to.</p> + +<p>Dear Aunt Hildy! when we essayed to thank her, she said:</p> + +<p>"There, there, don't say a word; I've allus said I'd be my own +executioner, (I did not correct her mistake), and I know that's the way. +You see, some day I'll go out like a candle, for all my mother's folks +died that way, so I want to be ready. The other side of the house live<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +longer, more pity for it too. They've handed down more trouble than you +know, but I aint like one of 'em; it's my mother I belong to."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me now that the years went like days and the first five +after our marriage, that ended with the summer of 1851, were filled for +the most part with pleasant cares. I was still my mother's girl, and +helped about the house as always before. Of course, some sorrows came to +us in these years, for changes cannot be perfectly like clear glass. Hal +and Mary had held to their hearts one beautiful Baby blossom, who only +lived four months to cheer them, and then passed from their brooding +tenderness on to the other side. We sorrowed for this, and "Love's Fawn" +had pale cheeks for a long time. Hal feared she would follow her child, +and it might have been had not a somewhat necessary journey across the +Atlantic brought great benefit to her.</p> + +<p>The venture Mr. Hanson had made had proved so eminently successful, that +when, this year, he again went to the Old World, it was deemed wise and +right for them to accompany himself and family. I almost wanted to go, +too, and when Hal sent back to us his beautifully written account of all +he saw, I stood in spirit beside him, and anticipated many of his +proposed visits. They both returned with improved health and added +fortune.</p> + +<p>The mining fever of 1849 took a few of our townspeople from us. Aunt +Phebe wrote us that her second son had gone to find gold, and Ben had a +little idea of trying the life of a pioneer; but the sight of the +waiting acres, which he hoped some day to call his, detained him, and he +still kept on making a grand success of farming,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> for he was doing the +work he desired and that which he was capable of carrying to a +successful end.</p> + +<p>Louis' work had lain in all directions; helping Mr. Davis still as his +varying strength required, interesting himself in the improvements about +us, etc. Gradually widening the sphere of his influence, slowly but +surely feeling his way among human hearts, he could not fail to be +recognized, and after a time to be sought for among such as needed help. +No appeal was ever made in vain from this quarter.</p> + +<p>Capitalists, who had reared in the village below us a huge stone mill +designed for the manufacture of woolens, had made advances which he did +not meet as desired, for their system of operating was disloyal, he +said, to all true justice, encroaching, as it did, upon the liberties of +a class largely represented in this, as well as in all other towns. +Three gentlemen, who represented the main interests, called on Louis, +and he expressed to them what seemed to him to be the truth regarding +this, and said:</p> + +<p>"The years to come will be replete with suffering, and vice, +degradation, and misery are sure to follow in the steps you are taking. +I do not say that you realize this, but if you will think of it as I +have, you cannot fail to reach the same conclusion. You cause to be rung +a morning bell at five o'clock, that rouses not only men from their +slumbers, but the little growing children who need their unbroken +morning dreams. These children must work all day in the close and +stifling rooms of your mill. Their tender life must feel the daily +dropping seed of disease, and with each recurring nightfall, overworked +bodies fall into a heavy slumber, instead of slipping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> gradually over +into the realm of peace. The mothers and fathers of these children +suffer in this strife for daily bread. Fathers knowing not their +children, and entire families living to feel only the impetus of a +desire to satisfy the cravings of hunger, and to shield themselves from +the cold of winter or the summer's heat. What does all this mean? If we +look at the elder among your employees we shall find men, who, not being +strong enough to work twelve hours a day, naturally, and almost of +necessity, have resorted to the stimulant of tobacco, and the strength +of spirituous liquors.</p> + +<p>"I can personally vouch for the truth of all I say regarding it. The +practice of fathers is already adopted or soon will be adopted by their +children, and by this means the little substance they may gain through +hard toil, for you well know their gain is small if your profit is what +you desire, falls through the grated bars of drunkenness and waste, into +the waiting pit of penury and pauperism. Bear with me, gentlemen, if I +speak thus plainly, and believe me it is for your own comfort as well as +for the cultivation of the untouched soil in the minds of your workmen, +that I feel called upon to address you earnestly.</p> + +<p>"You do not ask, neither would you permit, your wives and children to +work in the mill beside these people, and only the line of gold draws +the distinction between you. There are sweet faces in your mill, there +are tender hearts and there is intellect which might grow to be a power +in our midst. But the sweet faces have weary eyes, the tender hearts +beat without pity, and the strength which might exalt these men and us +as their brothers, becomes the power of a consuming fire, which as time +flies, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> our population increases, will burn out all the true and +loyal life that might have developed among us. When our village becomes +a city, we, like other denizens of cities, must see prison houses rise +before us, and to-day we are educating inmates for these walls. Remember +also, that the laces our wives shall wear in those days of so-called +prosperity, will be bought with human life. I will not stand amenable +before God for crime like this.</p> + +<p>"If you will drop your present schemes, if you will be content to share +with these men and children a portion of your profits, to let them toil +eight hours instead of twelve per day, and if on every Saturday you will +give to them one full long day in God's dear sunlight, I will invest the +amount of capital necessary to cover all which you as a body have +invested, and I will stand beside you in your mill. I would to God, +gentlemen, you were ready to accept this offer, for it comes from my +heart, but I can anticipate your reply. You will say I am speaking ahead +of my time, that the world is not ready for these theories, much less +for the practice I desire. And in return I would ask, when will it ever +be? Has any new and valuable dispensation sought us through time, when +hands were not raised in holy horror, and the voice of the majority has +not sounded against it. You are to-day enjoying, in the machinery you +use, the benefit of thought which against much opposition fought its way +to the front. And shall we rest on our oars, and say we cannot even try +to do what we know to be right, because the world, the unthinking, +unmindful world, sees no good in it? It would be easier for many acting +as one man, to move the wheels, but if this cannot be, I must wait as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +other hearts have waited, but I will work in any and in all ways to +break the yokes which encircle the necks of our people."</p> + +<p>He paused and looking still earnestly at them, waited a reply. The +eldest said in answer:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Desmonde, while you have spoken that which we have never before +heard, I think I may say for my friends as well as myself, that your +sentiments do not fall on entirely barren soil. While you were talking, +it seemed to me the way looked plain, and I felt to say, Amen. But I +know we are not ready for such a movement as this. Perhaps we ought to +be, and if your picture is a true one, I say from the bottom of my heart +I will for myself try to be of some good. I am willing to be taught +how."</p> + +<p>Louis crossed the room, and offering his hand, said with emotion:</p> + +<p>"Thank God, the truth I uttered found soil. May the years water with the +dews of their love, the one seed fallen on rich ground, and may we, sir, +live to be a unit in our thought and action, and you too, gentlemen," +turning to the two who were silent.</p> + +<p>A short and pleasant conversation followed, and they took their +departure. As they left us, Clara said:</p> + +<p>"Well done, Louis. Here is a work and Emily will help you do it."</p> + +<p>Louis had grown grandly beautiful through these years, and never had he +seemed for one moment careless or unmindful of any simplest need. We +walked together truly, keeping pace through the years whose crown we +wore as yet lightly. He said I grew young all the time,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> and often, when +thoughts of his work filled his mind, as he sat looking on into the +future, finding one by one the paths which, like small threads running +through a garment, led to the unfoldment of life, he would hold my hands +in his, and when, like a picture, the way and means all made plain, he +would say:</p> + +<p>"My Emily, do you see it? Oh? you have helped me to find it, and still +you see it not; then I must tell you," and he would unfold to me the +work not of a coming day only—but sometimes even that of months and +years.</p> + +<p>He kept the promise made to the mill-owners, and the hearts of the +little operatives knew him as their friend. When the work he was doing +for them commenced, Aunt Hildy had said:</p> + +<p>"That's it; put not your light under a bushel but where men can see it, +Louis, for I tell you the candles you carry to folks' hearts are run in +the mould of the Lord's love, and every gleam on 'em is worth seein'."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy's step we knew was growing less firm, and now and then she +rode to the village. Matthias got on bravely, and gloried in the deposit +of some "buryin' money," as he called it, with Louis, who took it to the +bank and brought him a bank-book.</p> + +<p>"Who'd a thought on't, Mas'r Louis, me, an old nigger slave, up heah in +de Norf layin' up money."</p> + +<p>Ben had a saw-mill now of his own, and was an honest and thrifty young +man. Many new houses had been built in our midst, and with them came of +course new people and their needs.</p> + +<p>We had, up to this time, heard often from our Southern Mary, and her +letters grew stronger, telling us how noble<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> a womanhood had crowned her +life, and the latter part of 1851 she wrote us of a true marriage with +one who loved her dearly. Her gifts to Mrs. Goodwin had been munificent, +and well appreciated by this good woman. We hoped some time to see her +in the North. She had never lost sight of Mr. Benton, and he still lived +with his wife and boys. This delighted the heart of Mary, and I grew to +think of him as one who perhaps had been refined through the fire of +suffering, which I secretly hoped had done its work so well that he +would not need, as Matthias thought Mas'r Sumner would, "dat eternal +fire."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>LIFE PICTURES AND LIFE WORK.</h3> + + +<p>The pictures Louis painted were not on canvas, but living, breathing +entities, and my heart rejoiced as the years rolled over us that the +brush he wielded with such consummate skill was touched also by my hand; +that it had been able to verify Clara's "Emily will do it," and that now +in the days that came I heard her say "Louis and Emily are doing great +good." I think nothing is really pleasure as compared with the +blessedness of benefitting others.</p> + +<p>My experience in my earliest years had taught me to believe gold could +buy all we desired, but after Clara came to us and one by one the burden +of daily planning to do much with very little fell out of our lives, and +the feeling came to us that we had before us a wider path, with more +privileges than we had ever before known, I found the truth under it +all, that the want of a dollar is not the greatest one in life, neither +the work and struggle "to make both ends meet," as we said, the hardest +to enforce.</p> + +<p>It was good to know my parents were now free from petty anxieties, that +no unsettled bills hung over my father's head like threatening clouds, +and that my mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> could, if she would, take more time; to herself. +Indeed she was forced to be less busy with hard work, for Aunt Hildy +worked with power and reigned supreme here, and I helped her in every +way. It was the help that came in these ways, I firmly believed, that +saved mother's life and kept her with us. This was a great comfort, but +none of us could say our desires ended here.</p> + +<p>No, as soon as the vexed question of how to live had settled itself, +then within our minds rose the great need of enlarged understanding. +Millions of dollars could not have rendered me happy when my mind was +clouded, and now it seemed to me, while strength lasted, no work, +however hard it might be, could deprive me of the happiness and love +that filled my heart. I loved to read and think, and I loved to work +also.</p> + +<p>Sometimes when my hands were filled with work and I could not stop to +write, beautiful couplets would come to me, and after a time stanzas +which I thought enough of to copy. In this way I "wrote myself down," as +Louis termed it, and occasionally he handed me a paper with my verses +printed, saying always:</p> + +<p>"Another piece of my Emily."</p> + +<p>May, 1853, brought Southern Mary and her husband to us. We met them with +our own carriage, and within her arms there nestled a dainty parcel +called "our baby," of whose coming we had not been apprised. What a +beautiful picture she was, this little lady, nine months old, the +perfect image of her mother, with little flaxen rings that covered her +head like a crown. I heeded not the introduction to her father, but, +reaching my hands to her, said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me have her, Mary, let me take her. I cannot wait a minute."</p> + +<p>Louis gently reminded me that Mr. Waterman was speaking to me, and I +apologized hastily, as I gathered the blossom to my heart, where she sat +just as quiet as a kitten all the way home. Clara was delighted with the +"little bud," as she called her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me her name," I said.</p> + +<p>"Oh! guess it," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Your own?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, you can never guess, for we called her Althea, after kind Mrs. +Goodwin, who nursed me so tenderly, and Emily, for another lady we +know"—and she looked at me with her bright eyes, while an arch smile +played over her face. I only kissed the face of the beautiful child, and +Louis said:</p> + +<p>"My Emily's name is fit for the daughter of a king. God bless the little +namesake," and Althea Emily gave utterance to a protracted "goo," which +meant, of course, <i>yes</i>.</p> + +<p>You should have heard her talk, though, when Matthias came over to see +"Miss Molly."</p> + +<p>"Come shufflin' over to see you," he said, "an' O my! but aint she jest +as pooty. O"—and at this moment she realized his presence, both her +little hands were stretched forth in welcome, and "ah goo! ah goo!" came +a hundred times from her sweet mouth as she tried to spring out of her +mother's lap.</p> + +<p>"Take her, Matthias," I said.</p> + +<p>"Wall, wall, she 'pears as ef she know me, Miss Emily—reckon she's got +a mammy down thar."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She has, indeed," said Mary, "and I know she will miss Mammy Lucy. She +was my nurse, and she cried bitterly when we left, but I do not need +her, Allie is just nothing to care for, and I like to be with her +myself, for I am her mother, you know," she added proudly.</p> + +<p>"I mus' know that ole Mammy Lucy, doesn't I, Miss Molly?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly you do, Matthias, and she has sent a bandanna turban for your +wife, and a pair of knitted gloves for you. She told me to say she +didn't forget you, and was mighty glad for your freedom. Father long +since gave her her's and she has quite a sum of money of her own."</p> + +<p>All this time white baby fingers were pawing Matthias' face, as if in +pity, and losing their little tips among his woolly hair.</p> + +<p>When he rose to leave she cried bitterly, and turning back he said:</p> + +<p>"Kin I tote her over to see Peg to-morrer?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes," said Mary "give her my love and tell her I am coming over."</p> + +<p>"Look out for breakers," said Aunt Hildy, when she saw the child, "this +house'll be a bedlam now, but then we were all as leetle as that once, I +spos'e," and her duty evidently spoke at that moment, saying, "You must +bear with it." But she was not troubled.</p> + +<p>Allie never troubled us, she was as sweet and sunny as a May morning all +through, and even went to meeting and behaved herself admirably. She +never said a word till the service ended, when she uttered one single +"goo" as if well pleased. Aunt Hildy said at the supper-table<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> she +didn't believe any such thing ever happened before in the annals of our +country's history,</p> + +<p>"She's the best baby I ever see. Wish she'd walk afore you leave."</p> + +<p>"She has never deigned to creep," said Mary; "the first time I tried to +have her, she looked at me and then at her dress as if to say, "That +isn't nice," and could not be coaxed to crawl. She hitches along +instead, and even that is objectionable. I imagine some nice morning she +will get right up and walk." At that moment Allie threw back her head of +dainty yellow rings, and laughed heartily, as if she knew what we said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Goodwin claimed the trio for one-half of the six weeks allotted to +their stay, and she said afterward:</p> + +<p>"They were three beautiful weeks with three beautiful folks."</p> + +<p>Louis at this time was working hard with the brush of his active +goodness, and had before him much canvas to work upon. The days were +placing it in his view, and we both dreamed at night of the work which +had come and was coming.</p> + +<p>It was a sunny day in June when he said: "Will my Emily go with me +to-day? The colors are waiting on the pallet of the brain, and our hands +must use them to-day."</p> + +<p>"Your Emily is ready," I replied, "and Gipsy (our horse) will take us, I +guess."</p> + +<p>We went first to Jane North's, and Louis said to her;</p> + +<p>"Jane, are you ready now to help us as you have promised?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she replied; "I am."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you take two boys to care for; one eleven years of age, and the +other twelve?"</p> + +<p>"I'll do just what you say, or try to, and if my patience gives out I +can tell you, I 'spose, but I'm bound to do my duty, for I scolded and +fretted and tended to other folk's business fifteen years jist because +my own plans was upset, and I couldn't bear to see anybody happy. Well, +'twas the power of sin that did it, and if some of the old Apostles fell +short I can't think I'm alone, though that don't make it any better for +me. When are they coming?"</p> + +<p>"To-night, I think. Give them a good room and good food, and I will +remunerate you as far as money goes. I would like you to take them; you +are so neat and thrifty, and will treat them well. When they get settled +we will see just what to do for them," said Louis, and we drove on to +the village. Our next stopping-place was found in the narrowest street +there, and where a few small and inconvenient dwellings had been erected +by the mill owners for such of their help as could afford to pay only +for these miserable homes. They looked as if they had fallen together +there by mistake. And the plot of ground which held the six houses +seemed to me to be only a good-sized house lot. We stopped at the third +one and were admitted by a careworn woman, who looked about fifty years +of age. She greeted us gladly, though when Louis introduced me, I knew +she felt the meager surroundings and wished he had been alone, for her +face flushed and her manner was nervous. I spoke kindly and took the +chair she proffered, being very careful not to appear to notice the +scantily furnished room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," said Louis, "Mrs. Moore, are you ready to let your boy go with +me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir," she said, "only too willing; but I have been afraid you would +not come. It seemed so strange that you should make us such an offer—so +strange that you can afford to do it, and be willing, too, for +experience has taught us to expect nothing, especially from those who +have money. But Willie's clothes, sir, are sadly worn. I have patched +them beyond holding together, almost; but I could get no new ones."</p> + +<p>"Never mind that," said Louis. "We will go to the mill for him and his +little friend, too, if he can go."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, sir; he can, and I am so glad, for the father is a miserably +discouraged man. He drinks to drown trouble, and it seems to me he will +drown them all after a little. A pleasant man, too. His wife says poor +health first caused him to use liquor."</p> + +<p>We then called on the woman in question and obtained her tearful +consent, for while the promise of a home for her boy was a bright gleam, +she said:</p> + +<p>"He is the oldest. Oh! I shall miss him when we are sick."</p> + +<p>"He shall come to you any time," said Louis, "and you shall visit him."</p> + +<p>And in a few moments we were at the mill. Entering the office, Louis was +cordially greeted by one of the three gentlemen who had called on us. He +evidently anticipated his errand, for he said:</p> + +<p>"So, you are come for Willie Moore and Burton Brown?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Louis replied. "Can I go to the room for them?"</p> + +<p>"As you please, Mr. Desmonde, I can call them down. Their room is not a +very desirable place for a lady to visit."</p> + +<p>Louis looked at him as if to remind him of something, while I said:</p> + +<p>"My place is beside my husband."</p> + +<p>"Yes," added Louis, "we work together. Come, Emily," and he led the way +to the fourth floor, where, under the flat roof in a long, low room, +were the little wool pickers. I thought at first I could not breathe, +the air was so close and sickening. And here were twenty boys, not one +of them more than twelve or thirteen years old, working through long +hours. The heat was stifling, and the fuzz from the wool made it worse. +They wore no stockings or shoes, nothing but a shirt and overalls, and +these were drenched as with rain.</p> + +<p>As we entered Louis whispered, "See the pictures," and it was a bright, +glad light that came suddenly into all their eyes at sight of their +friend. He spoke to them all, introducing me as we passed through the +long line that lay between the two rows of boys. When we came to Willie +and Burton, Louis whispered to them:</p> + +<p>"Get ready to go with me."</p> + +<p>They went into the adjoining hall to put on the garments which they wore +to and from the mill, and in less time than it takes me to write it, +they stood ready for a start. As we passed again between the lines of +boys Louis dropped into every palm a silver piece, saying, as he did +so:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hold on, boys, work with good courage, and we will see you all in a +different place one of these days."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir;" and "yes, sir, we will," fell upon our ears as we +passed out. Our two little protegés ran out in advance. And as I looked +back a moment, standing on the threshold of the large door, I said:</p> + +<p>"It is a beautiful picture, Louis. You are a master artist."</p> + +<p>After again stopping in the office for a few words of conversation with +Mr. Damon, Louis was ready, the boys clambered into our carriage, and we +were on our way to their homes, first stopping to purchase for each of +them a suit of clothes, a large straw hat, and a black cap. The boys +said nothing, but looked a world of wondering thanks.</p> + +<p>Louis made an arrangement for the boys to live with Jane, and to go to +our town school when it began in the fall.</p> + +<p>"This summer," he said to their mothers, "they need all the out-door air +and free life they can have to help their pale cheeks grow rosy, and to +give to their weak muscles a little of the strength they require. I +desire no papers to pass between us, for I am not taking your children +from you, only helping you to give them the rest and change they need to +save their lives. They are the weakest boys in the mill and this is why +I chose them first. Every Saturday they shall come home to you, and stay +over the Sabbath if you desire, and they shall also bring to you as much +as they could earn in the mill. Will this be satisfactory?"</p> + +<p>Both these mothers bowed their heads in silent appre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>ciation of the real +service he was rendering, and I knew his labor was not lost. I felt like +adding my tribute to his, and said:</p> + +<p>"Your boys will be well cared for, and you shall come often to see us. +We expect you to enjoy a little with them."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mother, will you come over and bring the children?" said Willie.</p> + +<p>"And you, too, mother," echoed Burton.</p> + +<p>Weary Mrs. Moore said:</p> + +<p>"I would like to breathe again in the woods and on the mountains, but I +have five little ones left here to care for;" and Mrs. Brown added:</p> + +<p>"I could only come on Saturday, and the mill lets out an hour earlier, +and your father needs me on that day more than any other."</p> + +<p>Her sad face and tearful eyes told my woman's heart that this was the +day he was tempted more than all others, and I afterward gathered as +much from Burton.</p> + +<p>"Well, we must turn toward home," said Louis, and the boys kissed their +mothers and their little brothers and sisters, and said "good-bye," and +each with his bundles turned to the carriage. Louis untied Gipsy, and I +said to the mothers:</p> + +<p>"Were they ever away over night?"</p> + +<p>"No, never," said both at once.</p> + +<p>"I will arrange for them. You shall hear to-morrow how the first night +passes with them."</p> + +<p>"I was just thinking of that," said Mrs. Brown; "God bless you for your +thoughtfulness," and getting into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> carriage, we all waved our +good-byes, and turned toward home. We told Jane all we could to interest +her, and particularly asked her to make everything pleasant for them, +that they should not be homesick. Louis went to their room with them, +and when we left them at Jones' gate, Willie Moore shouted after us:</p> + +<p>"It's just heaven here, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>He was an uncommonly bright little boy, and yet had no education +whatever beyond spelling words of three letters. He was twelve years of +age, and for three years he had worked in the mill. Clara and all at +home were delighted with our work, and Aunt Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"Ef Jane North does well by them boys, she oughter have a pension from +the Gov'ment, and sence I know that'll never give her a cent, I'll do it +myself. I've got an idee in my head."</p> + +<p>Then Southern Mary and her husband laughed, not in derision, for they +admired Aunt Hildy, and Mr. Waterman said:</p> + +<p>"If men had your backbone, Mrs. Patten, there would be a different state +of things altogether."</p> + +<p>"My husband is almost an Abolitionist," said Mary. "Some of our people +dislike him greatly; but my father is a good man and he does not +illtreat one of his people. He is one of the exceptional cases. But the +system is, I know, accursed by God. I believe it to be a huge scale that +fell from the serpent's back in the Garden, and I feel the day will dawn +when the accursed presence of slavery will be no longer known."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Aunt Hildy, "and there's more kinds than one. Them little +children is slaves—or was."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When you get ready to make out your pension papers, Mrs. Patten," said +Mary, "let me help jest a little; I would like to lay a corner-stone +somewhere in this village for some one's benefit. You know this is the +site of a drama in my life; I pray never to enact its like again."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you a chance," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>Louis went over to Jane's in the morning, and the boys returned with him +to tell us what a good supper and breakfast they had had.</p> + +<p>"And such a nice bed," added Burton. "When we looked out of the window +this morning I wished mother could come."</p> + +<p>"Poor little soul!" I said, "your mother shall come. We will move every +obstacle from her path."</p> + +<p>"If father could find work here it would be nice," and a little while +after, he said in a low tone:</p> + +<p>"There ain't any rum shops here, is there?"</p> + +<p>He was a tender plant, touchingly sensitive, and when I told him we were +to send word to his mother that he liked his home, his joy was a +pleasure to witness.</p> + +<p>"Miss North says we may have some flowers, and we'd better go back, +Willie, and see about getting the spot ready—she had her seed box out +last night, but I guess she'll give us plants too, to put in the +ground."</p> + +<p>He was very thoughtful, and would not stay too long for anything, he +said. Aunt Hildy looked after them, and sighed with the thoughts that +rose within, but said no word.</p> + +<p>The three weeks of Mr. and Mrs. Waterman's stay were at an end.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>"On the morrow," said Mary, "we go to Aunty Goodwin's. I want to go, and +dread to leave. But is that Matthias coming over the hill? It is, and I +have something to tell him. I have meant to do it before, but there was +really no opportunity. Come out with me, and let's sit down under the +elm tree while I tell him. Come, Allie," and she lifted the blue-eyed +baby tenderly. Oh, how sweet she was! and I wondered how we could bear +to lose her. She crowed with delight at Matthias' approach, and at +Mary's suggestion he took a seat beside us.</p> + +<p>"I have something to tell you now; open wide your ears, Uncle Peter."</p> + +<p>"What's dat you say, Miss Molly; got some news from home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have news for you from your own."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Molly, don't for de Lord's sake wait a minit!"</p> + +<p>"Your wife, whom Mr. Sumner so cruelly sold for you, is very happy now, +for she is free, Matthias."</p> + +<p>"Done gone to hevin, does you mean? Tell it all," said the old man, who +trembled visibly.</p> + +<p>"She did not live two months, but she was in good hands. I accidentally +met her mistress, who told me about her. She said she had kept her in +the house to wait on her, for she liked her very much. But she seemed +sad, and grew tired, and one morning she did not appear, and they found +her in her little room, next that of Mrs. Sanders, quite dead and +looking peaceful and happy. Her mistress felt badly, for she meant to do +well by her. They thought some heart trouble caused her death."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, my! oh, my! dat heart ob hern was done broke when dat man sold our +little gal. Oh, I knowed it ud neber heal up agin! but tank de Lord +she's free up dar. Oh, Miss Emily! can't no murderers go in troo de +gate? Dat Mas'r Sumner can't neber get dar any more, Miss Molly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Matthias. Dry your tears, for I've something good to tell. Your +oldest boy, John, has a good master, and is buying his freedom. They +help him along. He drives a team, and is a splendid fellow. He will be +free soon, and will come to see you, perhaps to live with you. This is +all I know, but isn't it a great deal?"</p> + +<p>Matthias stood on his feet, his eyes dilating as they turned full on +Mary, his hands clenched, his form raised as erect as it was possible +for him, and his breast heaving with great emotion, as from his lips +came slowly these words:</p> + +<p>"Do you mean it, Miss Molly? Is you foolin, or is you in dead earnest +for sartin?"</p> + +<p>"It is truth, every word I say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh, oh!" and he sank on the seat beside us, covering his face with +both hands, while tears fell at his feet, and as they touched the grass +they shone in the sun like large round drops of dew. I thought they were +as white and pure as though his skin was fair. And he wept not alone, +for we wept with him.</p> + +<p>Allie reached to bury her fingers in his mass of woolly, curling hair, +and as he felt their tender tips, he raised his head and put out his +hands to her, saying:</p> + +<p>"Come, picaninny, come and help me be glad. Oh, Canaan, bright Canaan! +Oh, de Lord has hearn my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> prayer an' what kin I say, what kin I do, an' +how kin I wait fur to see dat chile? He's jes like his mother, pooty, I +know. Oh, picaninny, holler louder! le's tell it to the people that my +John is a comin' fur to see me, dat he haint got no use fur a mas'r any +more," and up and down he walked before us, while Allie made +demonstrations of joy.</p> + +<p>It was a strange picture. "Oh, Canaan!" still he sang, and "De New +Jerusalem," until I really feared his joy would overcome him, and was +glad to see Louis coming toward us. He took a seat beside me, and I was +about to tell him the wonderful news, when Matthias, who noticed him, +handed Allie to her mother, and falling on his knees before Louis, cried +aloud:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mas'r Louis, help me, for de good Lord's sake! will you help me, +Mas'r Louis?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, my dear fellow!" and he laid his hand on him tenderly; "tell +me just what you want me to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my boy! Miss Molly tells me my own boy John have got his freedom +mos out, an' he's comin' to find me. I can't wait, Mas'r Louis; 'pears +like a day'll be a year. I mout die, he mout die too. I'll sen' him my +buryin' money, an' ef tant enough, can't you sen' a little more? an' +I'll work it out, I will, sure, an' no mistake; fur de sake of the +right, Mas'r Louis, an' for to make my ole heart glad. Will you do it?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly will, Matthias; but you are excited now."</p> + +<p>"Bless ye. May de heavins open fur to swallow me in ef I don't clar up +ebery cent you pays fur me. But you can't tell. Oh, ye don't know!" and +again he walked, clapped his hands, and sang, "Oh, Canaan, bright +Ca<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>naan!" till, pausing suddenly, he said, "Guess I better shuffle ober +to tell Peg—'pears like I'm done gone clar out whar I can't know +nothin';" and with "good arternoon" he left us, swinging his hat in his +hand, and singing still "Oh, Canaan!" as he traveled over the hill +toward home.</p> + +<p>We were all glad for Matthias, and Clara said:</p> + +<p>"Let us rejoice with them that rejoice; and Louis, my dear boy, write at +once to the gentleman who owns John, and pay him whatever he says is +due. We can do it, and we should, for the poor, tired heart of his +father cannot afford to wait when a promise lies so near. Let us help +him to lay hold upon it."</p> + +<p>"Amen," said Aunt Hildy. "I'll help ten dollars' worth; taint much."</p> + +<p>"But you shall keep it for John," said Clara; "he will need something +after he gets here."</p> + +<p>The next morning Matthias came to deliver his bank-book to Louis, +saying:</p> + +<p>"Get the buryin' money; get it and send it fur me, please."</p> + +<p>Louis told him to keep his bank-book.</p> + +<p>"You shall see your boy as soon as money can get him here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mas'r Louis!" and he grasped both his hands; "de Lord help this ole +nigger to pay you. I's willin' to work dese fingers clean to de bone."</p> + +<p>Our two boys got on bravely. The first Saturday night we sent them home +with loaded baskets, and each with a pail of new milk, which we knew +would be a treat to the children, and in their little purses the amount +promised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> by Louis. Matthias took them to their homes, and Louis went +for them on Monday morning, and when he returned he said:</p> + +<p>"The pictures are growing, Emily. Bright eyes and rosy cheeks will come +soon."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Waterman were leaving us. We were kissing "our baby" +good-bye. How we disliked to say the word! And when looking back at +Matthias after we started, she cried, "Mah, mah!" I laughed and cried +together. Louis and I parted with them reluctantly at the depot, and our +last words were:</p> + +<p>"Send John right along."</p> + +<p>"We will," they answered, as the train rode away and baby Allie pressed +her shining face against the window. It was only two weeks and two days +from that day that Louis, Clara and I (she said after our marriage "Call +me Clara, for we are sisters—never say 'mother Desmonde;' to say mother +when you have such a blessed one of your own is robbery to her") drove +to the depot to meet John. Matthias said to us,</p> + +<p>"You go fur him, ef you please, fur I can never meet him in de crowd; I +want to wait by de road an' see him cum along. Mighty feared I'll make a +noony o' myself."</p> + +<p>The train stopped, and Louis left us in the carriage and went to find +him. My heart jumped as I thought he might not be there, but ere I had +time to say it to Clara, he came in sight, walking proudly erect by the +side of Louis, as handsome a colored man as could be seen. He was quite +light, tall as Louis, and well proportioned, his mouth pleasantly shaped +and not large, his nose suited to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> a Greek rather than to a negro, and +over his forehead, which was broad and full, black hair fell in +tight-curling rings,—resembling Matthias in nothing save perhaps his +eyes. It did not seem possible this could be a man coming from the power +of a master—how I dislike that term, a slave—this noble looking +fellow; I shuddered involuntarily, and grasped his hand in welcome with +a fervent "God bless you, John; I welcome you heartily." Clara stretched +forth her little hand also, saying:</p> + +<p>"John, you can never know how glad we are." He stood with his hat +raised, and his large beautiful eyes turned toward us filled with +feeling as he answered:</p> + +<p>"Ladies, you can never realize the debt I have to pay you. It seems a +dream that I am here, a free man with an old father waiting to see his +son; oh, sir," and he turned to Louis, "my heart is full!"</p> + +<p>"We do not doubt it, dear fellow, but get into the carriage and let +Gipsy take us to the hills. She knows your father waits. Now go, Gipsy," +and the willing creature seemed inspired, going at a quick pace as if +she understood her mission.</p> + +<p>I saw Matthias sitting on a log a little this side of our home, shading +his eyes with his hand, and when John spied him, he laid his hand on his +heart and said:</p> + +<p>"Please let me get out and walk; excuse me, sir, but I cannot sit here."</p> + +<p>We respected his feelings and held Gipsy back, that he might with his +long strides reach his father before us, which he did. When Matthias saw +him walking toward him, he rose to his feet and the two men ap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>proached +each other with uncovered heads. At last, when about ten feet apart, +Matthias stopped and cried:</p> + +<p>"John, oh, John!"</p> + +<p>"Father, father, I am here," and with one bound he reached him, threw +his arms about him, while Matthias' head fell on his shoulder; and here, +as we reached them, they stood speechless with the great joy that had +come to them. Two souls delivered from bondage—two white souls bathed +in pure sunlight of my native skies. I can never forget this scene. We +spoke no word to them, but as we passed them John spoke, saying:</p> + +<p>"Sir, will you take my father's arm? He feels weak and I am not strong." +I took the reins and Louis, springing to the ground, stepped between, +and each taking his arm they walked together up to the door of our home +where Aunt Hildy, mother, father, Ben, Hal and Mary, Mrs. Davis, Jane +North and Aunt Peg, waited to receive them. When Matthias saw Peg he +said:</p> + +<p>"Come, Peg, come and kiss him; this is my John sure enuf." Supper waited +and the table was spread for all. Mr. Davis gave thanks and spoke +feelingly of the one among us who had been delivered from the yoke of +bondage, saying:</p> + +<p>"May we be able to prove ourselves worthy of his great love, and +confidence, and be forever mindful of all those both in the North and +South who wait, as he has waited, for deliverance." Matthias grew calm, +and when they left us to walk home, Louis and I went with them. On the +road over John said to Louis:</p> + +<p>"Sir, I am greatly indebted to you, and I am anxious to go to work at +once and pay my debt."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You owe me nothing," said Louis; "I have no claim upon your money or +time; I will help you in every way possible, and my reward will be found +in the great joy and comfort you will bring to your father in his old +age."</p> + +<p>"This is too much," said John.</p> + +<p>"Not enough," said Louis, and at Aunt Peg's vine-covered lattice 'neath +which he stood, we said good-night and turned toward home, while in our +hearts lay mirrored, another fadeless picture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>JOHN JONES.</h3> + + +<p>How the days of this year flew past us, we were borne along swiftly on +their wings, and every week was filled to overflowing with pleasant care +and work. John was called in the South after his master's name, but now +he said, inasmuch as he had left him and the old home in Newbern, it +would seem better to him to be called by his father's name, and so he +took his place among us as John Jones. He went to work with a will, +became a great friend to Ben and helped him wonderfully, for between the +saw-mill, the farm with its stock-raising and broom trade, which really +was getting to be a good business, Ben was more than busy.</p> + +<p>John was a mechanic naturally; he was clever at most anything he put his +mind on, "and never tried to get shet of work;" and his daily work +proved his worth among us. Matthias worked and sang the long days +through, and all was bright and beautiful before him. He tried to think +John's angel mother could look down from "hevin" on him, and it gave him +pleasure to feel so.</p> + +<p>When the fall came John said to Louis:</p> + +<p>"I want to know something. I promised the boys and gals that when I got +free I'd speak a few words for them, and I must learn something."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + +<p>So he came regularly to Louis through the winter evenings, and in a +little time he could send a readable letter to the friends down South. +Newbern was a nice place, had nice people, he told us, and he had been +well treated and permitted to learn to read, but the writing he could +not find time to master; he was skilful in figures, and Louis was very +proud of his rapid improvement.</p> + +<p>In our meetings he gradually came to feel at home, and at last surprised +us one evening by a recital of his life, and an earnest appeal to +Christians to forget not those who looked to the star in the North as to +a light that promised them freedom and the comforts of a home. His +large, expressive eyes grew luminous with feeling, and as he stood, rapt +in his own thought, which carried him back to the old home, he seemed +like a tower of strength in our midst, and when at the close of the +meeting, as we walked behind them, he took his father's arm, I heard +Matthias say:</p> + +<p>"John, you's done made me proud as Loosfer."</p> + +<p>And his handsome son bowed his head as he answered:</p> + +<p>"Thank the God who made us all to be brothers that I have the power to +tell these thoughts that rise within me. You feel just as I do, father, +only you can't express it, because they did not let you grow. The heavy +weight of slavery has held you close to the ground, and this is the +foundation of the system. The ignorance of the chattel is the life that +feeds the master's power. Like horses, if slaves knew this power, they +could break their bondage, and no hand on earth could stop them."</p> + +<p>Among the pleasant occurrences of this summer were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> the picnics of the +mill children, who enjoyed two days in July and two days in August +rambling in the woods and taking dinner in the old hemlock grove, where +the trees had been so lavish of their gifts that a soft carpet of their +fallen leaves covered the ground the long year through. The coolness of +this beautiful shelter was most refreshing, and it seemed as if nature +knew just how much room was needed to spread our lunch-cloth, for there +was the nicest spot in the world right in the heart of the grove, and as +we sat around our lowly table every third or fourth person had a +splendid hemlock tree to lean against. This was a rare treat to the mill +children, and oh, the faces of the pictures we painted in these days.</p> + +<p>Willie and Burton both had their own friends with them, and when in +conversation Louis spoke of the work of repairing the church and putting +in new pews, Burton Brown said:</p> + +<p>"My father can do such work."</p> + +<p>"Can you, Mr. Brown?" said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," he replied; "working in lumber is my trade; change and hard +luck forced me into the mill."</p> + +<p>I cannot tell you of all the events that occurred among us, but when the +smoke from a new chimney rose in the very spot almost where Aunt Hildy's +cottage stood, it was due to the fact that a new double house had been +erected on a splendid lot, and Willie and Burton were living there with +their parents.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Moore had grown young looking, though the grey hairs that mingled +with the brown still held their places. Mr. Brown did not meet +temptations here, and as Aunt Hildy said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Headin' him off in a Christian way was the thing that saved him; poor +critter, his stomach gnawed, and he needed just them bitters I made for +him, and Louis' kind treatment and planning to help him be born agin, +and its done good and strong, jest as I knew it would be."</p> + +<p>Two more little mill boys were brought to Jane to take the places of +Willie and Burton, and Louis kept walking forward, turning neither to +the right nor left, bringing the comforts of living to the hearts that +had known only the gathering of crumbs from the tables of the rich, and +the few scattering pennies that chanced occasionally to fall from their +selfish palms.</p> + +<p>Clara's glad smile and happy words made a line of sunshine in our lives, +and the three years following this one, which had brought so many +pleasant changes, were as jewels in the coronet of active thought and +work, which we were day by day weaving for ourselves and each other.</p> + +<p>When Southern Mary left us, she gave to Aunt Hildy something to help +make out Jane North's pension papers, and the first step Aunt Hildy took +toward doing this was in the fall of 1853, when she painted Jane's house +inside and out. Then in the next year she built a new fence for her, and +insisted on helping Louis make some improvements needed to give more +room, and from this time the old homestead where Jane's father and +mother had lived and died, became the children's home, with Jane as its +presiding genius, having help to do the work. From six to eight children +were with her; three darling little girls whom Louis found in the +streets of a city in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> the winter of 1855, were brought to the Home by +him, and he considered them prizes.</p> + +<p>To be independent in thought and action was Louis' wisdom. He had regard +for the needs of children as well as of adults, for he remembered that +the girls and boys are to be the men and women of the years to come, and +to help them help themselves was his great endeavor.</p> + +<p>"For this," he would say, "is just what our God does for us, Emily. He +teaches the man who constantly observes all things around him, that the +proper use of his bounty is what he most needs to know, and to live by +the side of natural laws, moving parallel with them, is the only way to +truthfully solve life's master problem. Yea, Emily, painting pictures is +grand work; to see the ideal growing as a reality about us, to know we +are the instruments in God's hands for doing great good; and are not the +years verifying the truth of what I said to you, when a boy I told you I +needed your help, and also that you did not know yourself? I knew the +depth of your wondrous nature. My own Emily, you are a glorious woman," +and as tenderly as in the olden days, with the great strength of his +undying love, he gathered me in silence to his heart. How many nights I +passed to the land of dreams thinking, "Oh, if my Louis should die!"</p> + +<p>Father and mother were enjoying life, and when Aunt Phebe came to see +us, bringing a wee bit of a blue-eyed daughter, she said, "If I should +have to leave her, I should die with the knowledge that she would find a +home among you here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't see why we haint thought out sooner," said Aunt Hildy; "you see +folks are ready, waitin', only they don't know whar to begin such work, +and now there's Jane North, I'll be bound she'd a gone deeper and deeper +into tattlin', ef the right one hadn't teched her in a tender spot, and +now she's jest sot her heart into the work, and as true as you live, +she's growin' handsome in doin' it. I'm ashamed of myself to think I +have wasted so much time. Oh, ef I'd got my eyes open thirty years ago."</p> + +<p>"Better late than never," said Aunt Phebe; "live and learn; it takes one +life to teach us how to prize it, but the days to come will be full of +fruit to our children, I hope."</p> + +<p>"Wall ef we sow the wind we reap the whirlwind sure, Miss Dayton."</p> + +<p>Aunt Phebe was very desirous that John should see Mr. Dayton, which he +did, and an offer to study with him the higher mathematics was gladly +accepted, and between these two men sprang a friendship which was +enduring.</p> + +<p>Uncle Dayton had helped many a one through the tangled maze of Euclid +problems and their like, and when John walked along by his side in ease +and pleasure, Mr. Dayton was delighted; and when he came to see us, he +said:</p> + +<p>"The fellow is a man, he's a man clear through.</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, "I was just the one to carry him along all right. I was +the first man to take a colored boy into a private school, and I did it +under protest, losing some of the white boys, whose parents would not +let them stay; not much of a loss either," he added, "though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> they +behaved nearly as well as the colored boys I took. I belonged at the +time to the Baptist Church; the colored woman, whose two sons I received +into my school, was a member of the same church; three boys, whose +parents were my brothers and sisters in the faith, were withdrawn, and +the minister who had baptized us all, and declared us to be one in the +name of the humble Nazarene, also withdrew his son from my school, being +unwilling to have him recite in the class with these two boys, whose +skin was almost as white as his own. The natural inference was, that he +considered himself of more consequence than the Almighty, for he +certainly had given us all to him, and I had verily thought the man +meant to help God do part of his work, but this proved conclusively that +the Lord had it all to do—at any rate that which was not nice enough +for the parson—and it took a large piece of comfort out of my heart. I +was honest in trying to do my duty, and it grieved me to think he was +not. Another young colored boy whom I took, is a physician in our city +to-day, and another who came to my house to be instructed has been +graduated at the Normal School of our State with high honors, being +chosen as the valedictorian of the class, and he is to-day principal of +a Philadelphia school.</p> + +<p>"I tell you this truth has always been before me, and I have run the +risk of my life almost daily in practising upon it. My school was really +injured for a time, and dwindled down to a few scholars, but I kept +right along, and the seed which was self-sowing, sprang up around me, +and to-day I have more than I can do, and the people know I am right."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p>The blue eyes of Mr. Dayton sparkled as he paused in his recital, +running his fingers through his hair, and for a time evidently wandering +in the labyrinthine walks of the soul's mathematics, whose beautifully +defined laws might make all things straight, and it was only the sight +of John's towering form in the doorway that roused him, and he said:</p> + +<p>"I have brought to you Davies' Legendre. I thought he would receive more +thanks in the years to come than now, for is it not always so? Are not +those who move beyond the prescribed limits of the circle of to-day, +unappreciated, and must we not often wait for the grave to cover their +bodies, and their lives to be written, ere we realize what their hearts +tried to do for us? It is a sad fact, and one which shapes itself in the +mould of a selfish ignorance, which covers as a crust the tender growing +beauty of our inner natures.</p> + +<p>It was a cold day in December, 1856, when we were startled to see Jane +coming over the hill in such a hurried way that we feared something was +the matter with the children. These children were dear to me. Hal and +Mary had a beautiful boy two and a half years old, but no bud had as yet +nestled against my heart.</p> + +<p>I met her at the gate and asked, "What's the matter with the children?"</p> + +<p>"Go into the house, Emily <i>De</i>-mond, 'taint the children, it's me." She +wanted us all to sit down together.</p> + +<p>"Oh! dear, dear me, what can I do? I'm out of my head almost."</p> + +<p>We gathered together in the middle room, and waited for her to tell us, +but she sat rocking, as if her life de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>pended on it, full five minutes +before she could speak—it seemed an hour to me—finally she screamed +out:</p> + +<p>"He's come back!"</p> + +<p>"Whom do you mean?" I cried, while mother and Aunt Hildy exchanged +glances.</p> + +<p>"He came last night; he's over to the Home, Miss Patten, d'ye hear?"</p> + +<p>"Jane," said Aunt Hildy in a voice that sounded so far away it +frightened me, "do you mean Daniel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; he's come back, and he wants me to forgive him, and I must +tell it, he wants me to marry him. I sat up all night talkin' and +thinkin' what I can do."</p> + +<p>"Jane," said Aunt Hildy, in that same strange voice, "has he got any +news?"</p> + +<p>"Both of 'em dead. Oh, Miss Patten, you'll die, I know you'll die!"</p> + +<p>"No, I shan't. I died when they went away."</p> + +<p>"What can I do, Miss Patten? Oh, some of you <i>do</i> speak! Mis' <i>De</i>-mond, +you tell; you are allus right."</p> + +<p>Clara crossed the room, and kneeling on the carpet before her, said:</p> + +<p>"My dear soul, is it the one you told me of?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Jane, "the very one; gall and worm-wood I drank, and +all for him; he ran away and—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," added Aunt Hildy, "tell it all. Silas and our boy went with him, +father and son, and Satan led 'em all."</p> + +<p>"Has he suffered much?" said Clara.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, marm, but he says he can't live without me! He hain't never +been married; I'm fifty-four, and he's the same age."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jane," said Clara, "I guess it will be all right; let him stay with +you."</p> + +<p>"How it looks," interrupted Jane; "they'll all know him."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. The Home is a sort of public institution now; let him stay, +and in three weeks I'll tell you all about it."</p> + +<p>"Get right up off this floor, you angel woman, and lemme set on the sofy +with you," said Jane.</p> + +<p>Louis and I left the room, and after an hour or so Jane went over the +hill, and Aunt Hildy stepped as firmly as before she came. Poor Aunt +Hildy, this was the sorrow she had borne. I was glad she knew they were +dead, for uncertainty is harder to bear than certainty. I wondered how +it came that I should never have known and dimly remembered something +about some one's going away strangely, when I was a little girl. My +mother had, like all Aunt Hildy's friends, kept her sorrow secret, and +she told me it was a rare occurrence for Aunt Hildy to mention it even +to her, whom she had always considered her best friend.</p> + +<p>If Jane had not herself been interested, it would have leaked out +probably, but these two women, differing so strangely from each other, +had held their secrets close to their hearts, and for twenty-five long +years had nightly prayed for the wanderers.</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy's husband was a strange man; their boy inherited his father's +peculiarities, and when he went away with him was only sixteen years of +age.</p> + +<p>Daniel Turner was twenty-nine, and the opinion prevailed that he left +home because he was unwilling to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> marry Jane, although they had been for +several years engaged, and she had worked hard to get all things ready +for housekeeping. He was not a bad-looking man, and evidently possessed +considerable strength.</p> + +<p>Clara managed it all nicely, and when the three weeks' probation ended, +they were quietly married at Mr. Davis', and Mr. Turner went to work on +the farm which Jane had for many years let out on shares. He worked well +through the rest of the winter, and the early spring found him busy +doing all that needed to be done.</p> + +<p>He was interested in our scheme, and felt just pride in the belongings +of the Home, which was really settling into a permanency. We sometimes +had letters of interrogation and of encouragement as well, from those +who, hearing of us, were interested.</p> + +<p>Louis often said the day would come when many institutions of this kind +would be established, for the object was a worthy one, and no great need +can cry out and not finally be heard, even though the years may multiply +ere the answer comes.</p> + +<p>"Changes on every hand," said Mr. Davis, "and now that the pulpit has +come down nearer to the people, and I can send my thoughts directly into +their hearts, instead of over their heads, as I have been so often +forced to do, we may hope that the chain of our love will weld us +together as a unit in strength and feeling. I almost wish our town could +be called New Light, for it seems to me the world looks new as it lies +about us. The lantern of love, we know, is newly and well trimmed, and I +feel its light can never die; it may give place to one which is larger, +and whose rays can be felt further, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> it can never die. I really +begin to believe there is no such thing as death. I dislike the word, +for it only signifies decay. I call it change, and that seems nearer +right."</p> + +<p>"So it is, Mr. Davis," said Clara, as he talked earnestly with us of his +interest in the children and the people about us, "for, even as children +are gradually changing into men and women, so shall our expanding lives +forever climb to reach the stature of our angelhood, which must come to +us when we let the perishable garments fall, and the mortal puts on its +immortality. If we all could only see that our Father will help us to +shape these garments even here; could we know that stitches daily taken +in the garment that our soul desires are necessary that it may be ready +for us when we enter there,—how great would be the blessing! This would +relieve death of its clinging fears, and our exit from earth and +entrance to the waiting city would be made as a pleasant journey.</p> + +<p>"Louis, dear boy, feels all this, and if the cold hearts of speculative +men could be warmed and softened into an unfolding life, he would not +constantly do battle with the wrong; but truth is mightier than error. +God's love must at last be felt, and when the delay is over, how many +hearts, now deaf to his entreaties, will say with one accord, 'we are +sorry, if we could live our days over, we would help you!'"</p> + +<p>Louis did do battle, that is true; he paid due respect to people of all +classes, but fearlessly and trustfully he dealt, both by word and +practice, vigorous blows against all enslaving systems. He said to us +sometimes, that when he went to the mill—as he constantly did, working +until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> every one of the twenty boys to whom he promised liberty, found +it—he came in contact with three different conditions; he classified +them as mind, heart and soul. "When I talk to them," he said, "or if I +go there on my mission and speak no words, I hear their souls say 'he is +right and we are wrong;' I hear the earthly hearts whisper hoarsely, +'curse the plans of that fellow, he is in our way;' and the worldly +policy of the mind steps forth upon the balcony of the brain and says, +'treat him well, it is the best policy to pursue, for he has money.' +Yes, my Emily, I thank God for the fortune my father left me, hidden in +the silver service. It shall all be used. You and I will use it all. And +was the bequest not typical, its very language being 'a fortune in thy +service, oh, my father!'"</p> + +<p>"I never thought of this; how wonderful you are, Louis," I said.</p> + +<p>"And you, my Emily, my companion, may our work be the nucleus around +which shall gather the work of ages yet to be, for it takes an age, you +know, to do the work of a year—almost of a day."</p> + +<p>Our lives ran on like a strong full tide, and all our ships were borne +smoothly along for four full years. An addition had been made to Jane's +house, and her husband proved loyal and true, so good and kind and +earnest in his work that Aunt Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten to remember his dark days, and I really don't believe +he'd ever have cut up so ef Silas had let him alone."</p> + +<p>Good Mrs. Davis had sought rest and found it, and a widowed niece came +as house-keeper. John Jones was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> growing able to do the work he promised +the girls and boys down South, and lectured in the towns around us, +telling his own story with remarkable eloquence for one who had no early +advantages. He was naturally an orator, and only needed a habit of +speaking to make apparent his exceptional mental capacity. Aunt Hildy +was not as strong when 1860 dawned upon us, and she said on New Year's +evening, which with us was always devoted to a sort of recalling of the +past:</p> + +<p>"Don't believe I'll be here when sixty-one comes marchin' in."</p> + +<p>Clara looked at her with a strange light in her eyes, and said:</p> + +<p>"Dear Aunt Hildy, wait for me, please; I'd like to go just when you do."</p> + +<p>It was the nineteenth day of April this year, when an answer to a prayer +was heard, and a little wailing sound caused my heart to leap in +gratitude and love. A little dark-eyed daughter came to us, and Louis +and I were father and mother. She had full dark eyes like his, Clara's +mouth, and a little round head that I knew would be covered with sunny +curls, because this would make her the picture I had so longed to see.</p> + +<p>"Darling baby-girl, why did you linger so long? We have waited till our +hope had well-nigh vanished," and the dark eyes turned on me for an +answer, which my heart read, "It is well."</p> + +<p>Louis named her "Emily Minot Desmonde." It was his wish, and while, as I +thought, it ill suited the little fairy, I only said:</p> + +<p>"May she never be called 'Emily did it.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<p>"May that be ever her name," said Louis, "for have you not yourself done +that of which she will be always proud, and when we are gone will they +who are left not say of you, 'Emily did it'?</p> + +<p>"Ah! my darling, you have lost and won your title, and it comes back +shaped and gilded anew, for scores of childish lips have echoed it, and +'Emily did it' is written in the indelible ink of the great charity +which has given them shelter."</p> + +<p>"Louis, too," I said, and he answered:</p> + +<p>"Had I not found my Emily, I could never have undertaken it. You cannot +know how I gathered lessons from your happy home. In my earliest years I +was dissatisfied with the life which money could buy. I did not know the +comforts of work and pleasure mingled, and it was here, under these +grand old hills, while communing with nature, I sought and found the +presence of its Infinite Creator; and your smile, your presence, was a +promise to me which has been verified to the letter."</p> + +<p>When Clara held our wondrous blessing in the early days of its sweet +life, she looked sometimes so pensively absent that I one day asked her +if she did not wish Emily had come sooner.</p> + +<p>"Ah! my Emily, mother; 'tis a wrong, wrong thought, still I cannot deny +it;" and a mist covered her tender eyes. My heart stood still, for I +knew she felt that her hand would not lead our little one in the first +steps she should take, and the thought embittered my joy. I suppose +everybody's baby is the sweetest, and I must forbear and let every +mother think how we cared for and tended the little one, and how our +heartstrings all vibrated at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> touch of her little hand, and if she +was ill or worrisome, which she was earthly enough to be, we were all +robbed of our comfort till her smiles came back.</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy was an especial favorite, and she would sit with her so +contentedly, while that dear old face, illumined by the sun of love, +told our hearts it was good for baby's breath to moisten the cheek of +age.</p> + +<p>Little Halbert, as we called Hal's boy, was as proud of his cousin as +could be, and my old apple tree, which was still dear, dropped leaves +and blossoms on the heads of the children, who loved to sit beneath its +branches.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h3>CLARA LEAVES US.</h3> + + +<p>The year 1861 had dawned upon us, and Aunt Hildy had not left us as she +had expected to.</p> + +<p>I said to her, "I believe you are better to-day than you were one year +ago." She folded her hands and looking at me, said:</p> + +<p>"Appearances is often deceitful, Emily; I haint long to stay, neither +has the saint among us. Her eyes have a strange look in them nowadays, +and the veins in the lids show dreadful plain; we must be prepared for +it."</p> + +<p>I could not talk about this, and how was I to prepare for it? I should +never love her less, and could I ever bear to lose her, or realize how +it would be without her? "Over there" was so far beyond me, I could only +think and sigh and wait; but the symptoms of which Aunt Hildy spoke I +noticed afterward, and it was true her eyelids seemed more transparent, +and her eyes had a watery light.</p> + +<p>I knew she was weak, and since the snow had fallen was chilled more +easily than before, and had ventured out but little. I did not desire to +pain Louis, but feeling uneasy, could not rest until I talked with him, +and he said his heart had told him the little mother would leave us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> ere +long. "If she lives till the fall, we will go down and see Southern +Mary, if we can." Little Emily clung very closely to Clara, and if I had +not insisted on having the care of her, I believe she never would have +asked for me. Mother said we should spoil her, and Ben declared she +"would make music for us by and by." Ben was still interested in his +work, and as busy as a bee the long days through.</p> + +<p>"Thirty-three years old," I said to him, "are you never to be married?"</p> + +<p>"Guess not," he would reply laughingly, "I can't see how Hal could get +on without me, and I, in my turn, need John. What a splendid fellow he +is! They all like him around us here, and I believe I shall sell out the +mill to him and buy another farm to take care of. He handles logs as +easily as if they were matches. He is a perfect giant in strength."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, Ben, but he never will live in a saw-mill. John is +destined to be a public man; he will have calls and by and bye will +stand in the high places and pour forth his eloquence. He may buy a +saw-mill, but he will never keep himself in it, no matter how hard he +tries."</p> + +<p>"So my cake is all dough, you think, so be it, sister mine;" and baby +Emily received a bear hug from Uncle Ben, who, a moment later, was +walking thoughtfully over the hill.</p> + +<p>The eighteenth of March was a cold day, extraordinarily so, tempestuous +and stormy. Louis had been in Boston three days, and we thought the +winds were gathering a harsh welcome for his return. His visits to +Boston were getting to be quite frequent nowadays, for he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> found +some warm friends there, who had introduced themselves by letter, and +now they were making united efforts to found a home for +children,—foundlings who were to be kept and well cared for, until +opportunities were presented to place them with kind people in good +homes. He was getting on wonderfully, and I could hardly wait for the +news he would bring to us.</p> + +<p>He came at last, and with him an immense square package looking in shape +very like a large mirror or a painting, and I wondered what it could be. +Baby Emily had to be saluted cordially, and both her little arms were +entwined around his neck.</p> + +<p>"Now, now, little lady," said Louis, "go to thy royal mother, I have +something to show thee," and taking off the wrappings of the mysterious +package, he placed two life-size portraits before us, saying as he did +so:</p> + +<p>"Companion pieces, my life's saving angels—behold yourself, my Emily, +see my fairy mother," and sure enough there we were. A glance at Clara +caused me to exclaim:</p> + +<p>"Wilmur Benton painted them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, both," he replied. "Are they not beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"Mine is not, I am sure, Louis; but your mother's,—oh, how lovely it +is, and as natural as life! It must be the one to which Mary referred."</p> + +<p>"It is, my Emily. I secured it long ago, and Mr. Benton has been a long +time at work on yours. He is sadly afflicted, and does not look like the +same man. His wife is dead, and I think he will not himself stay long. I +have been to see him always when in Boston, and would have told you all +before, had I not feared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> you might, by getting hold of one thread, find +another; Hal knows all about it. But see, Emily, just see yourself as +you are. I told you your eyes should speak from the canvas, and is it +not as well as if my own hand had held the brush?"</p> + +<p>I looked the words I could not say, and wondered how it came that this +likeness should have been painted without my being before the artist. It +was years since Wilmur Benton left us, and the picture represented me at +my present age, I thought, and I asked:</p> + +<p>"How did he get the expression, Louis?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Emily, he remembered every outline of your face, and with the +greatest ease defined them! Then from time to time, I sat near and +suggested here or there a change, until at last the work was perfected, +which in all its beauty only tells the truth; you do not see yourself +when your face lights up with glorious thought; the depth of your eyes +was to me always a study, and this man, Emily, carries in his heart +to-day the knowledge of your worth; he holds you and my little mother in +fond remembrance. His soul is purified by suffering, and this last visit +I made him has given him strength to tell me his whole life. When with a +sigh he ended his story, he looked at me sorrowfully, and said:</p> + +<p>"'I suppose you will despise me now, but I feel that after all your +kindness I must tell you, for it is right you should know. Halbert, I +have never told—it is as well not to do so.'"</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow," I said, "and we knew it all before."</p> + +<p>"No, not all; his life has been a drama with wonderfully wild, sad +scenes, and the great waves of his troubles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> and errors have, at times, +driven him nearly crazy. His eldest son is an artist like himself, and +finely organized. The other is in the West with an uncle of his +mother's. Are you sorry I have done all this? Speak, my beloved."</p> + +<p>My eyes told him that my heart was glad for the little comfort he could +give this man whose perfidy had given me sorrow, and Clara said:</p> + +<p>"To help one lost lamb to find the fold is the blessed work my boy +should always do."</p> + +<p>Aunt Hildy raised both hands at sight of our pictures, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Beautiful! beautiful! Splendid! Louis could not have brought us all a +greater surprise, or one that would have been more highly valued."</p> + +<p>Little Emily patted and kissed the faces, and soon learned to designate +them, "pit mam and mam Cla," for pretty mamma and mamma Clara.</p> + +<p>A few weeks after this we were sitting together in earnest conversation; +the small, dark cloud hung over us that threatened civil war, and while +I could hardly believe it possible, Louis and Clara said it must come. +Matthias came in of an errand, and sat down to hear us talk, and when +father said, "Oh, no, we shall not have war; those Southerners are too +lazy to fight," he raised both his hands and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Excoose me fur conterdictin' ye, but, Mr. Minot, ye dunno 'bout dat; +dey'll fight to de end ob time for dar stock. A good many on 'em owns +morin' two hundred, an' its money; it's whar de living comes from. Ef +you gib 'em a chance dey'll show you a big streak, an' fight dey will +for sartin."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>The words had hardly left his lips, when Clara said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! take me quick, dear boy!"</p> + +<p>We all sprang to her side. Ere Louis could put his arms around her, she +fell from her chair like dead.</p> + +<p>"Fainted! Water!" said Louis.</p> + +<p>"Camfire!" said Aunt Hildy, and I stood powerless to move or speak. I +saw Louis lay her on the sofa, and thought she was dead; the room grew +dark, and I forced myself to feel my way to the door, and leaning +against it would have fallen had not father put his arm about me and led +me through into the entry where I could get some air. When the sickening +swimming feeling left me, and the mist fell from my eyes, I was strong +enough to do something, and kneeling by the side of the motionless +figure, felt her pulse, or rather tried vainly to find it, and put my +cheek to her mouth, whence came no breath.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Clara darling, little mother, speak to us, our hearts are breaking! +Oh, Louis! get hot water and flannels, chafe her limbs, put a hot cloth +over the stomach and chest; she is not dead," and putting my head down, +I breathed full, long breaths into her nostrils.</p> + +<p>"'Taint no use," said Aunt Hildy, "but we must do it," and she worked +with a will.</p> + +<p>"That poor angel woman is done gone," said Matthias. "She couldn't stan' +it. Oh, de Lord!" and he looked the picture of despair.</p> + +<p>We were losing hope of resuscitation, and I sank on the floor beside +Louis, who still knelt at the head of the lounge, when a faint sound +came from her lips. We held our breath and listened, and now in a low, +weak voice she said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll go back, Louis Robert, to say good-bye; I can stay a little +longer; oh! they feel so badly—yes, I must go back," and then long, +deep sighing breaths were taken. A little longer and her eyes +opened—"Louis, Emily, baby, friends, I am here."</p> + +<p>"Oh! little mother," said Louis, "where is the trouble?"</p> + +<p>She tried to smile, as if to cover all our fears, and said with effort:</p> + +<p>"I am weak; I could not hold together; get some of Aunt Hildy's +bitters," and when the glass containing it was held to her lips, she +drank eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Take both hands, Louis; let the baby touch me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Clara, don't go!" I said, as I held little Emily near her.</p> + +<p>"No, no, not now, but I want help to stay; keep the baby close.</p> + +<p>"Matthias, don't go home," she said, and then, closing her eyes, lay so +still and motionless I feared she would never move again.</p> + +<p>A half hour had passed and she still looked so cold and white, when +suddenly her eyes opened, and her voice was strong as she said:</p> + +<p>"I am better now, I have come clear back,—help me to get up, dear boy," +and Louis put his arms around her to raise her; as he did so I saw a +strange look pass over her face, and her hands were laid on her limbs. +She turned her beautiful eyes upon me, as if to say "don't be +frightened," and said, "Please move my limbs, there is no feeling +there—they are paralyzed, and I am so glad it is not my hands." I moved +them gently, and thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> when she was really herself she would be able +to use them. She seemed now bright and cheerful as before.</p> + +<p>The evening wore on; Matthias went home, and at Clara's request Aunt +Hildy occupied a room with her down stairs, Louis carrying her tenderly +to her couch as if she were a child.</p> + +<p>Sleep came toward us with laggard steps through the long night; Louis +seemed to realize it all so plainly, and my heart was in my throat. I +tried to hope, and when at last I fell asleep I wandered in dreams to a +wondrous fountain, whose silvery spray fell before me as a gleaming +promise, and I thought its murmuring music whispered, "she will live," +and her Louis Robert, who stood near me, constantly sang the same sweet +words. I believe my dream really comforted me, for when I woke it clung +to me still, and "she will live" rang in my ears like a sweet bell +chime.</p> + +<p>We found her better and like herself, but the lower limbs were cold as +marble, heavy also and without feeling, and we knew it was, as she had +said, "paralysis."</p> + +<p>"Now I am to be a burden, my Emily mother, and oh, if you had not called +me back, I would have gone to the hills with Louis Robert! It was not +fancy nor delirium, for I knew that my body was falling. I saw him when +he came and whispered 'now, darling, now,' and when I lost your faces, +he raised me in his arms, and I was going, oh! till somebody breathed +upon me, and warm drops like rain touched my cheek, and I heard your +hearts all say, 'we cannot have it.' This like a strong hand drew me +back, and I thought I must come and say good-bye for a comfort to you +all. So Louis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> Robert, with his great love waiting for me there, drew +himself away and kindly said, 'I will wait,'—then a mist came between +us, and I opened my eyes to see you all around me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Clara! how can we ever let you go?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my beloved ones! I only go a little before you, and if you knew how +sweet it will be to be strong, you would say, because you love me, 'I +may go.' I have many things to say—and I shall remain with you a time, +and may, I fear, weary you. I am glad Louis is strong."</p> + +<p>It was pitiful to see the patience with which she bore her suffering. +There was no pain, she said, but it was a strange feeling not to be +alive—and she would look at her limbs and say, "Poor flesh, you are not +warm any more." We had one of her crimson-cushioned easy chairs arranged +to suit her needs, and in this she could be rolled about. She sat at the +table with us and I kept constantly near her, and tried to shield her +from any extra excitement. When on the thirteenth day of April, news +reached us of the blow which, the day before, had fallen on Sumter, we +feared to let her know it. But her spirit quickened into the clearest +perception possible, divined something, and obliged us to tell her.</p> + +<p>She said: "I knew it would come, I have felt it for years, and when the +cruel sacrifice is finished, liberty will arise, and over the ashes of +the slain will say, 'Let the bond go free.'"</p> + +<p>Ben's eyes looked as Hal's did, when he left us for Chicago, and he +whispered to me:</p> + +<p>"I must go. Hal must stay here; Louis cannot go. John will see to every +thing for me, and I am going."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + +<p>Six days later he had enlisted, and oh! how filled these days were! When +Matthias heard of it, he came over, and happening to meet me where he +could talk freely, he said:</p> + +<p>"Dis is jes' what I knowed was a comin', an' I have tole Ben fur to kill +dat Mas'r Sumner, de fus' ting, for he's the one dat ort fur to be +killed."</p> + +<p>"Why, Matthias, you are in a great hurry to kill him, and you really +believe he is to drop right into that terrible fire; why, I could not +hurry a dog out of existence if I thought everlasting torment awaited +him."</p> + +<p>"Look a yere, Miss Em'ly, ef dat dog wuz mad, you'd kill him mighty +quick, wouldn't ye?"</p> + +<p>I did not know what to say, and he answered the question himself:</p> + +<p>"Yas, de Lord knows, dat man needs tendin' to, an I'se mighty anxious +fur de good Lord to take him in han'. We'll live to see ebery black man +free, Miss Em'ly,—we shall, shure,—an' dere'll be high times down in +Charleston. Wonder what little Molly'll do?"</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking about her," I said. "You know the last letter we +received they were fearful of war, and thinking of coming to her +husband's friends in Pennsylvania; but she feared her mother would die; +she has been poorly for a long time."</p> + +<p>"Reckin she'll die, then, fur de 'sitement'll kill her, ef nuffin else +don't."</p> + +<p>The days wore on and Clara still lingered with us. Ben was as yet +unhurt, and first lieutenant of his company. He wrote us that battle was +not what he had thought it; he was not shaky at all, and the smell of +powder covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> every fear; he had only one thought and that was to do +his duty. A letter full of sorrow came from Mary. Her mother had passed +from earth, and her father was going on to a little farm they owned a +few miles from the city, and she, with her husband and Althea Emily was, +trying to get into Pennsylvania. "I am in momentary fear," she wrote, +"for my husband is watched so closely, his principles are so well known, +I think we shall have great trouble in getting through, but we cannot +stay here."</p> + +<p>The dewy breath of May was rising about us; violet angle was alive with +its blossoms, and the birds sang sweetly as if there were no sorrowing +hearts in the land.</p> + +<p>Clara had failed of late, and the evening of the fifteenth we were +gathered together at her request in her sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"Do not feel troubled," she said, "for when I am out of sight, you will +sorrow if you feel I have not told it all. Come, baby Emily, sweet bird +sit close to mam Cla, while she tells the story."</p> + +<p>Louis and I sat on either side, Aunt Hildy with mother and father very +near, so that we formed a semi-circle.</p> + +<p>"I am losing my strength, as you all know," said Clara "and the day is +very near when I shall reach for the hand that will lead me to the +hills. Now, Louis, my dear boy, here is the paper I have written, +wherein I give to you all the things I believe you will prize. I believe +I have remembered all who have been so kind and so dear to me, and I +know you will comply with every wish, and I desire no form of the law to +cover my words." Louis took the papers with a trembling hand, and she +continued: "It is wise and right for me to tell you about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> laying +away of this frame of mine, for I know if I do not tell you about it +many questions will arise, and we will have them all settled now before +I go beyond your hearing. I shall hear you and see you all the time.</p> + +<p>"First, buy for me a cedar coffin, since it will please you to remember +that this wood lasts longer in the ground than any other. Do not have +any unnecessary trimmings for it, and I would like to wear in this last +resting-place the blue dress I prize the most. You will find in my large +trunk the little pillow I have made for my head; just let me lie there a +little on one side, and put a few of Emily's sweet violets in my hand +that I may be pleasant to look upon. Leave no rings upon my fingers; +these I wear, my Louis Robert gave me, and you must keep them for his +grandchild," and as she said this, she unfastened the shining chain that +she had worn hidden so many years, and putting it around our little +Emily's neck, said: "Let her always wear the chain and the locket," and +while the baby's eyes reflected the gleam of the gold that dazzled them, +we were all weeping. "Do not feel so," said Clara; "it is beautiful to +go; let me tell you the rest. All these people whom I have known will +desire to look at my face, and for their sakes let me be carried into +the old church which has become to me so dear. I have asked Mr. Davis to +preach from the text, 'I am the resurrection and the life.'</p> + +<p>"Be sure that the children from the Home all go, and I would like you +with them to occupy the front pews. I have a fancy," and she smiled, +"that if you sit there it will help me to come near to my deserted +tenement. I know I shall be with you there, and I hope you will never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +call me dead. My house of clay is nearly dead now, and the more strength +it loses the stronger my spirit feels. Mr. Minot said, long since, that +I might own part of his lot in the churchyard, and I would like to be +buried under the willow there. I like that corner best. Do not ever tell +little Emily I am there; just say I'm gone away to rest and to be well +and strong, and when she is older tell her the frame that held the +picture is beneath the grasses, and that my freed soul loves her and +watches her, for it will be true. If you feel, Louis, my dear boy, like +bringing your father's remains to rest beside me, you can do so. It will +not trouble either of us, for it matters little; we are to be together. +This is all, except that, if it be practicable, I should like the burial +to take place at the hour of sunset; this seems the most fitting time. +While the grave is yet open, please let the children sing together, +'Sweet Rest;' I always like to hear them sing this. To-morrow evening I +have something to say to the friends who really seem to belong to +me,—Hal and Mary, Mr. Davis, Matthias, Aunt Peg and John, Jane and her +husband. Please let them come at six o'clock."</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes wearily, and looked so white and beautiful, her +small hands folded, and the fleecy shawl about her falling from her +shoulders, and it seemed as if the material of life, like this delicate +garment, was also falling from her. Desolation spread its map before me. +I could think of nothing but an empty room and heart, and with Louis' +arms about me, I sobbed bitterly. Then I thought how selfish I was, and +said: "Louis, take her in your arms; she is so tired, poor little +mother." The blue eyes looked at me with such a tender light, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +said, "Yes, I am tired." Louis gathered her in his arms and seated +himself in a rocker. Aunt Hildy went for some cordial. Mother and father +sat quietly with bitter tears falling slowly, and with little Emily in +my arms, I crossed the room to occupy a seat where my tears would not +trouble her. It was sadly beautiful.</p> + +<p>She drew strength from Louis, and was borne into her room feeling, she +said, very comfortable. I wanted to stay with her through the night, but +she said:</p> + +<p>"No, the baby needs you; so does Louis; I know how he feels; my night +will be peaceful and my rest sweet; Aunt Hildy will rest beside me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I'll stay, and we shall both rest well," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>In the morning she was weak, but we dressed her, and after eating a +little she felt better, and in the afternoon seemed very comfortable and +happy. We had our supper at a little after five o'clock, and at six +o'clock, as she had wished, all were in her room.</p> + +<p>"Louis, roll my chair into the centre of the room, and let me face the +west, for I love to see day's glory die. Now come, good friends all, and +sit near me, where I can see your faces. I want to tell you that I am +going out of your sight, and I have left to each of you what seemed good +and right to me. I hope, yes, I know you will remember that I love you +all so much I would never be forgotten. You are grown so dear to me that +I shall not forget to look upon you; and please remember that I am not +dead, but shall be to you a living, active friend, who sees and knows +your needs, and to whose heart may be entrusted some dear mission for +your greatest good. Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> and Mrs. Turner," and she held her hands to +Jane and her husband, "be true and faithful to each other. Leave no work +undone, love the children, and ask help from the hills, whence it shall +ever come. You will, I am sure;" and her eyes turned inquiringly upon +them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mis' <i>De</i>-Mond," said Jane, "I will, oh, you blessed angel woman!"</p> + +<p>"I will, so help me God!" said Mr. Turner, and they took their seats, +while Clara, with a motion that said please come, called:</p> + +<p>"Matthias and Aunt Peg, and you too, John, don't think I can ever forget +you. You will come to me, and you will know me there, and, John, you +have a wonderful work to do; your words will bear sweet tidings to your +race, and your reward shall be that of the well-doer."</p> + +<p>"Oh, de good Lord! white lamb, how kin we ever let you go; you's done +got hold on our heart-strings! Oh, de good Lord bless ye, ye snow-white +darlin', an' ef it's de Mas'r's will, den we mus' lib all in the dark +widout ye, but de light ob your eyes is hevin to dis ole heart!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's true' nuf!" said Aunt Peg, "God'll take care on you, but +what'll we do?" and their groans fell like the wailing winds upon the +ears of us all; our hearts were touched to their inmost chords.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davis," said Clara, and her eyes dilated with a wondrous light +while her voice grew unnaturally strong, "I am to see your wife. Shall I +say you are looking forward to meeting her?"</p> + +<p>"Just that, and it will not be long," and he bowed his head as he held +in both his own her white hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Halbert and Mary, come and let me bless you. My brother and sister, you +are so dear to me. You, Halbert, have a wondrous touch; you stand before +the shrine of art, and ere many years a people's verdict shall more than +seal your heart's desire; a master artist you shall be, my friend."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Clara, Clara!" said Hal—</p> + +<p>"Yes," she continued, "Love's fawn has won the prize for you at home and +abroad; I leave to you a friend,—Louis will attend to it all,—and +among the little ones who come there will be some who have, like you, +talent; help them as you shall see fit."</p> + +<p>He could only bow his head, while Mary, sobbing as if her heart would +break, said:</p> + +<p>"Do not go; oh, do not leave us!"</p> + +<p>Clara closed her eyes and sank back among her cushions almost +breathless. We took her hands, Louis and I, and I feared she would never +speak again. Tearful and motionless these beloved ones sat about her, +and at last, when the crimson and gold swept like a full tide of glory +the broad western expanse that lay before us, she raised herself, looked +into all our faces, held her lips for a last kiss from us of the +household, and said in tones as clear as silver bells:</p> + +<p>"I am going now; he is coming. Aunt Hildy, you will come soon. Emily, +love my Louis. Louis, kiss me again; fold close the falling garment. +Baby, breathe on me once more—Louis Robert. Oh, this is beautiful!"</p> + +<p>Her head dropped on Louis' shoulder. Slowly the eyelids covered the +beautiful eyes.</p> + +<p>She was dead. Clara, the purest of all, dead and how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> beautiful the +transition! What a picture for the sunset to look upon, as with the full +tide of sympathy flooding our hearts, we stood around her where she lay! +John, in his strong dark beauty, with folded arms, and eyes like wells +of sorrow; Matthias and Aunt Peg, with tears running over their dusky +faces; good Mr. Davis, with his gray hairs bending over her as if to +hear her tell the message to his loved one; Aunt Hildy standing like one +who is only waiting for a little more to fill the cup, which is already +near her lips; my father and mother with their tender sympathies +expressed in every feature, with Jane and her husband near them like two +statues; Hal and Mary beside Louis and me, wrapt like ourselves in the +mantle of a strange and new experience. How long we stood thus, I know +not; the last sun-rays were dying as Aunt Hildy said: "We must wait no +longer; Jane and Aunt Peg, you'll help me, the rest of you need'nt +stay;" and so we left our beautiful dead, still in the hands of her +friends.</p> + +<p>The day of her burial was a perfect one—calm in its beauty, the blue of +its skies like the eyes of our darling. The little pillow made by her +own hands was of blue, covered with a fine web of wrought lace, and with +edging that had also been her handiwork. We dressed her as she +desired,—in a plain dress of pale blue,—the violet blossoms she loved +were in her hand, and it seemed to me as if I could never see her laid +out of sight—she was so beautiful in this last sleep; she looked not +more than thirty; there were no gray hairs among the brown, and no lines +of care or sorrow marked her sweet, pure face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> + +<p>All things were as she desired, and when the sun burned low on the +hills, we laid her under the willow, while the children sang "Sweet +Rest."</p> + +<p>"Will there ever be another like her?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Never," said Aunt Hildy.</p> + +<p>"No, never," said the hearts of all.</p> + +<p>My father missed her as much as if she had been his daughter, and I was +glad of little Emily's presence; it was a star in our night. Louis was +calm and strong, and spoke of her daily, and insisted on her plate at +the table, saying:</p> + +<p>"I cannot call her dead. Let us keep a place for her."</p> + +<p>It was a tender recognition which we respected. He looked after her, it +seemed to me, and almost saw her in her new home. The months wore on, +and our cares were still increasing. News of battles lost and won came +to us daily, and at last a letter telling of Lieutenant Minot having +been wounded seriously. It was impossible for any one to reach him at +present, and we must wait until he got to Washington, whither he would +be sent as soon as he was able. Our fears were great, but at last a +letter came from Washington, stating he would start for home on the +twenty-first of October, and he desired Hal to meet him in New York. Hal +found that the wound was in the shoulder, and the ball was still in it. +Unsuccessful probing had caused him great suffering, and we should +hardly have known him.</p> + +<p>When the real state of the wound was known, Aunt Hildy said:</p> + +<p>"I can get that ball out," and she went to work ener<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>getically. She cut +cloth into strips and bound all about the place where the ball entered, +and then she made a drawing "intment," as she called it, and applied it +daily, and in about four weeks, to our great delight, the ball came out. +Ben had the receipt for that wonderful "intment," and he calls it "Aunt +Hildy's miracle."</p> + +<p>When the cold days of the fall came upon us, Aunt Hildy felt them +greatly, and the morning of December tenth we awoke to find her gone; +she had gone to sleep to wake in a better home.</p> + +<p>It seemed as if we could not have it so, but when I remembered all she +had told me of her hopes and fears, when I knew she had found Clara and +was glad, I said we were selfish; let our hearts say "Amen."</p> + +<p>The town mourned Aunt Hildy, and again our church was filled to +overflowing, and the sermon Mr. Davis preached was a just and beautiful +tribute to our beloved friend, the true and faithful Hildah Patten.</p> + +<p>The day after the burial, father said to us in a mournful tone:</p> + +<p>"Now I have a duty to perform, and when she talked to me about it, she +said, 'Do it right off, Mr. Minot; don't wait because you feel kinder +bad to have me laid away. It's the best way to do what you've got to do, +and get it over with.'</p> + +<p>"So to-night we'll read the papers, and then we will carry out her +desires—good old soul; I do wish she could have stayed longer. I can +hardly see how we're going to live without her."</p> + +<p>The evening drew near, and Halbert, Mary and Ben, with little Hal, were +seated in the "middle room," while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> my father, with a trembling hand, +turned the key in a small drawer of the old secretary, and took out a +roll of papers and a box. As he did so a thought struck him, and he +turned suddenly, saying:</p> + +<p>"Why are not all here? She told me to have Matthias and Peg and John +come over. I believe a few more sad partings would make me lose my +memory."</p> + +<p>"I'll go over for them," said Ben; "it is early yet."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is plenty of time," said father. "The sun sets early; the +shortest day in the year will soon be with us," and his eyes closed as +if he were too tired to think, and he sat in silence until the sound of +feet on the walk aroused him.</p> + +<p>"Hope we hain't come over to see more dyin', Miss Em'ly. 'Pears like its +gettin' pooty lonesome round yere," and as our friends seated +themselves, the old clock tolled the hour of seven.</p> + +<p>Little Emily was asleep in Louis' lap, and her cousin Hal curled himself +up in one corner of the old sofa, as if he, too, felt the presence of +the god of sleep.</p> + +<p>"Now we are ready," said my father, "and here is the paper written by +Aunt Hildy which she bade me read to you all, and whose instructions we +must obey to the letter, remembering how wise and good our kind friend +has ever been. It is written in the form of a letter," and he read the +following:</p> + +<p>"My dear friends, I am writin' this as ef I was dead and you still in +the land of the livin', as we call it; I feel now as if when you read it +I shall be in the land of the livin', and you among them who feed mostly +on husks. I know by this stubbin pain in my side that I shall go to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +sleep, and jest step over into Clary's room before long, and all that +ain't settled I am settlin' to-night, and to Mr. Minot's care I leave +these papers and this box. You have been good and true friends to me, +and I want to help you on a little in the doin' of good and perfect +work. When Silas left me alone he took with him little money. I don't +know what possessed him; but Satan, I guess, must have flung to the +winds the little self-respect he had. He took one boy off with him to be +a vagrant. Silas' father was a good man, and he left a good deal of +property to this son of his, and we had got along, in a worldly sense, +beautiful; so when, he went away he left considerable ready money and a +lot of land, and I've held on to it all. Sometimes I've thought one of +'em might come back and want some of it; but now I know they are dead. +From time to time I've sold the land, etc., and you see I've added to +what was left. I now propose to divide it between Emily and Louis, as +one, Jane North Turner and her husband, and John Jones."</p> + +<p>As this name fell from my father's lips, John's dark eyes spoke volumes +and his broad chest heaved with emotion, but he sat perfectly erect, +with his arms folded, and I thought what a grand picture he made.</p> + +<p>Matthias groaned:</p> + +<p>"Oh, de good Lord ob Israel, what ways?" Aunt Peg gave vent to one of +her peculiar guttural sounds as father concluded the unfinished sentence +with the names of Ben, Hal and his good little wife.</p> + +<p>"Now, you can't do a great deal with this money, but it will go a little +ways toward helpin' out. I believe there is just three thousand dollars, +and that figgers only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> six hundred dollars apiece. Now, ef Ben's +shoulder prevents him from workin', and he needs to have it, Halbert +must give him half of what I leave to him, and I know he'll do it. Ben +wants to get married, and I can see which way the wind blows in that +quarter, and I think sense he's been half killed you'd all better help +him. When that comes to pass, give to him all the furniture and beddin' +that I leave, for his wife will be sensible enough to be glad of it. +Halbert's likeness of me in marble is a great thing they say, and sells +well, and he will please to put me up again in that same shape, and then +sell the picter and use the money to help the poor. He'll do jest what +I'd like to have him.</p> + +<p>"Emily and Louis will know jest what to do with their share; and now, +John Jones, to you,—as a child of our father, as a brother to me,—I +say, help yourself with what little I bestow in the very best way you +can. Ef I didn't know you would look well after Peg and Matthias I +should have left it to them and not to you. They won't stay here very +much longer, any way—and its all peace ahead, blessed peace. You, +perhaps, are wonderin' why Jane and her husband ain't here in this list. +This is the reason: I wanted to tell you jest how I come to have this +money, and I thought her husband would feel bad at the explanation. I +should like to have you all go over there, and let Mr. Minot read to Mr. +and Mrs. Turner and the children the paper I have left for them. Now I'm +contented to go, and ef they do put a railroad track through my wood +lot, it can't make me feel bad. The things of earth that I held so close +through long years, will not seem to me any more as they have, too holy +to be teched."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<p>When father concluded the reading, we sat in such silence that the tick +of the old clock, was to our ears the united beating of our hearts. Our +thoughts were all centered on the wisdom and goodness of our unselfish +friend who, through her life had been ever mindful of the needs of her +fellow-men, and who, when standing before the gate of her eternal home, +threw behind her her last treasure, thinking still of the poor hearts +who needed its benefit.</p> + +<p>We were to assemble at Jane's the next afternoon at five o'clock, and +when we said "good night," John looked up at the stars and said:</p> + +<p>"If the spirit of that good woman sees me, she reads what I cannot tell +you."</p> + +<p>The next afternoon found us in Jane's large square room, which faced the +western sky, and no less than twenty children were seated there with us. +This number seemed to be the complement of the Home,—as many as could +comfortably be accommodated. It was a pleasant care to Jane, for her +heart was in the work, and she looked younger now than before the work +began. The wishes of the boys were consulted, and each one as nearly +fitted to the place he occupied as possible. Jane said, when they first +began to multiply, the care troubled her some; but she began to talk to +herself, and to say: "There now, don't be foolish enough to notice every +little caper of them boys," and then, she said: "I began to practise +what I preached to myself. It worked first-rate, for I give over +watchin' 'em, and we get along splendid."</p> + +<p>There was a breathless silence when Louis said:</p> + +<p>"We are here at the request of your friend, children, the blessed Aunt +Hildy who has left a word for you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> You know she loved you, and I +imagine at this moment you are each wearing a pair of stockings which +were knit for you by her. Now listen, please, while Mr. Minot reads to +you her letter."</p> + +<p>Then, in a slow and impressive manner, father read as follows:</p> + +<p>"My dear folks at the Home. I'm about to leave this world for a better, +and on the borders of that blessed land I think of you. I think of your +happy faces and of Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who love you so much, and I +should like to have you know that I expect to meet you all over there. +You boys will grow to be good men, and you girls, who are like sweet +pinks to my mind, I want you to make blessed good women every one of +you. Now I think the good folks who take care of you would be thankful +to have a school-house of their own, and teachers who are interested in +the work of helping you along; and to give a little help, I leave to Mr. +and Mrs. Turner eight hundred dollars—two hundred is in the box in one +dollar gold pieces—to build a school-house with. You know I own a piece +of land next to yours, and here in this plot of two acres I want you to +put up this school-house. Give Mr. Brown the work, and let him draw up +the plan with Mr. Turner; I've figured it out, and I think there's +enough to build a good, substantial building such as you need; and the +deed of the two acres I give to the children. Each one of their names is +there, including those of the two that came first. Let each one, ef old +enough, do as he or she pleases with the ground. Ef they want to raise +marigolds, let 'em, and ef they want to raise garden sass, let 'em. I +should think Burton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> Brown would like to step in as a teacher, and I +believe he will, but the rest you can manage.</p> + +<p>"Now this is all. When you get the school-house built you'll want a walk +around it, and ef you should have a border of flowers, you may put in +some 'live forever' for me, for that means truth, and that is what I +want you to find. If Fanny Mason feels like goin' over to Mis' Minot's +to live with her, I'd like to have her go, and if she does, she'll find +two chests and a trunk full of things I've left that she needs, but she +must have her piece of ground here just the same. The deed I have made +is recorded, and I would like to have Mr. Dayton survey the land, and +make the division of it. Then you can each one of you hold your own as +long as you live, Mr. and Mrs. Turner keepin' it in trust till the law +says you're of age."</p> + +<p>The hearts of the children were touched at this token of love. Bright +eyes reflected happy thoughts. Fanny Mason was the first to speak. She +looked at my mother, while her eyes swam in tears.</p> + +<p>"May I come, Mrs. Minot?—I would like to help somebody, and it must be +right or she would not have written it."</p> + +<p>Mother held her hand to her, and I thought I never saw gratitude more +plainly written than upon the face of Fanny. She was one of the three +girls whom Louis found in the city streets, the eldest of the flock, and +so good and amiable we had always loved her. When mother held her hand +out to her in answer to her question, little Emily thought it time to +speak, and putting out both her own, said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tum, Panny, et, you outer."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Fanny, as she gathered her in her arms.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to have flowers," I heard one little fellow say.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to raise corn," said another.</p> + +<p>Mr. Davis was with us this evening, and after the children had given +vent to their joy, he rose, saying:</p> + +<p>"I have a word to say of our dear good friend, Mrs. Patten. About four +weeks before she left us, I had a long talk with her. She told me of her +pleasant anticipations and also that she expected to see me there ere +long. Her last words on that memorable occasion were, as nearly as I can +remember, these: 'I go from death to life, from bondage to freedom. All +I have of earth I want to leave where it shall point toward heaven, or a +higher condition of things. If you were to stay, Brother Davis, you +should do some of this work, but you must get yourself ready, and you +need no more to dispose of.' I feel that this is true, and I ask you, +children, to feel that I shall hope to be remembered by you through +time. The lesson of harmonious action has been taught upon these hills, +and when the years to come shall brighten our pathway, tired hearts will +still be waiting. The angel of deliverance will be present then, as now, +and the munificence of those who have gone from us, as well as of those +who are yet in the body, has made the strong foundation on which to +stand; and in the blest future your hands will be helpful, while your +hearts shall sing of those whose hearts and hands did great service for +the advancement of love and truth. My heart is glad; I have learned +much; I know that our Father holds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> so closely his beloved, that no one +of his children shall call to him unheard."</p> + +<p>We had a real meeting, as Jane expressed it, and I said to Louis:</p> + +<p>"What a great fire a small matter kindleth!"</p> + +<p>He replied: "We have claimed the promise and brought to our hearts the +strength we need 'where two or three are gathered together.' You know I +often think of this, and also of the incomparable comfort the entire +world would have if the eyes that are blinded could see; if the hearts +that beat slow and in fear were quickened into life. Ah! Emily, the +years to come hold wondrous changes. The cruel hand of war would never +have touched us had the first lesson in life's book been well read and +understood."</p> + +<p>"That is true," said my father, as we entered the gate at home, and +looking up I saw two stars, and said:</p> + +<p>"Clara and Aunt Hildy both say 'Amen!'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h3>AUNT HILDY'S LEGACY.</h3> + + +<p>It was the spring of 1862, when "Aunt Hildy's Plot" was the scene of +happy labor. Uncle Dayton made the survey of the land and a map of it. +All the children knew the boundaries of their individual territories; +and the youngest among them, five-year-old Sammy, strutted about with +his hands in his pockets, whistling and thinking, now and then giving +vent to his joy. When he saw Louis and me coming, for we all went over +to see the ground broken for the schoolhouse, he came toward us +hurriedly, saying with great earnestness:</p> + +<p>"I shall raise much as three dollars' worth of onions on my land. Do you +s'pose I can sell em, Mr. Desmonde? I want to sell 'em and put the money +in the bank, for when I get money enough I'm going to build a house, and +get married, too, I guess."</p> + +<p>Louis answered him kindly, as he did all the rest, and when we went home +he said he held more secrets than any one man ought to.</p> + +<p>The dedication of our schoolhouse was a grand affair. It came off on the +seventeenth of June. Uncle Dayton and Aunt Phebe came, and we gathered +the children<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> from the town and village, clothed them in white with blue +ribbons streaming from their hats, and had them marched in line into the +building—the first two holding aloft a banner which Louis and I had +made for them. Many came from the surrounding town, and three of our +friends from Boston. There were speeches made by Mr. Davis, Uncle +Dayton, Louis, John, and others, and singing by the children. It was a +glorious time, and we felt that our beloved Aunt Hildy must now be +looking down upon us with an approving smile; and when the marble +statuette of her dear self was placed in a niche, made for its +reception, it seemed to me I could hear Clara say, "It is beautifully +appropriate."</p> + +<p>The mode of operation was to be decided on, and when Louis spoke with +feeling of the coming days, he said to the children:</p> + +<p>"You are our children; we are your friends; and together we mean to be +self-supporting, instead of going about among the people soliciting +alms. We will be pensioners on each other's bounty, and when we are +strong enough to aid others who need our assistance, we will send forth +gladly comforts from our home. Some little boys who are to raise +strawberries on their patch of ground, will be glad to carry a dish of +berries to some poor invalid; and so with everything you do, remember +the happiness of doing something for those around us, for the poor we +have always with us. I have been thinking about a teacher. Mr. Brown, +our little Burton from the mill, has engaged to teach school in an +adjoining village, and for a time cannot come to you. He will be able to +be your teacher after awhile, and I under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>stand that is his wish. I +never taught school myself, but I have been wondering if you would like +me to try until he is ready. All those who would like me to come, say +aye."</p> + +<p>I rather think Louis heard that response. I started, for such a sharp, +shrill sound rent the air that the window glass quivered as if about to +break."</p> + +<p>"Now all who do not wish me for a teacher, say no."</p> + +<p>A calm like that of the Dead Sea ensued, to be broken after a second by +little Sammy, who cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh, pooh! There ain't nobody."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," said Louis; "then I am elected, am I?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!" shouted the children.</p> + +<p>"Then we'll hear you sing 'Hail Columbia,' and separate for the day. I +hope the summer will be a happy one for you all!"</p> + +<p>It will be impossible to fully describe "Aunt Hildy's Plot," as it +appeared in the days when everything was settled, and the children at +work in earnest, each with an idea born of himself.</p> + +<p>I thought I saw little that spoke to me of original sin and of the +depravity which, according to an ancient creed, grew in the human heart +as a part of each individual. There were strawberry beds and raspberry +rooms, patches of lettuce and peppergrass, long rows of corn with +trailing bean-vines in their rear, hedges of peas and string beans, and +young trees set out in different places, like sentinels of love and care +reaching toward the overarching sky.</p> + +<p>Little Sammy had his onion patch as he desired. It was a happy sight, +and one that touched the heart, to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> each one progressing +methodically day after day. They worked an hour before breakfast, and as +long as they pleased after supper. They took great comfort in "changing +works," as they called it; you would hear them say:</p> + +<p>"Now, let's all go over to Joe's land this afternoon, and to John's +to-morrow;" and in this way they sowed and reaped together.</p> + +<p>The plot measured considerably more than two acres, and there was a +space of about twenty square rods for each.</p> + +<p>This, when properly cared for, made for them nice gardens to take care +of. Louis succeeded, of course, in the school. The building had cost +considerably more than six hundred dollars, for we knew it was wise to +build it of brick rather than wood, and also to have room enough for an +increase of pupils.</p> + +<p>Louis said, when it was being built:</p> + +<p>"I can see, Emily, the days to come; the harvest that shall arise; and +for years, perhaps, the hands of the reapers will not number many. Some +of the seed will fall on barren soil, and some of the grain that waits +for the reaper will spoil; but in the end, yes, in the gathering up of +all, the century shall dawn that lights the world with these dear +thoughts that feed us to-day. Work and pleasure go hand in hand with the +progressive thought that after a time shall blend the souls of men with +those of angels, for 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.' +I feel that I have escaped so much in coming here when I did. These +hills have, with your presence, my beloved, made it the shrine of +purity, and the vows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> here taken have absolved my soul. The little +things that arise to annoy us may not be called trouble, and we shall +live here till our hair is gray; till Emily Minot shall take in her own +hands the reins that fall from the hands of her mother; for I feel that +all the unfinished pictures which we shall leave will be completed, some +at the hands of our daughter, and others by those whose hearts we shall +learn to know.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before we leave this lower state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To join the well-beloved who wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our little mother helps us here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our guardian angel through each year.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was as beautiful as fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How glorious an angel there!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And the face of my Louis, transfigured by his thought, shone with a +light that seemed to come from afar. I loved so well to hear him preach, +that when Mr. Davis' health became too precarious for him to occupy the +pulpit longer, I was glad to hear Louis say he would accept the place +tendered by Mr. Davis and by all the people of our town. I say all the +people, although perhaps there were a few who, liking to be busy and +failing to look for anything better, occupied themselves with the small +talk which made sometimes great noise without really touching anybody; +but we did not count this in life's cost, and were not affected by it.</p> + +<p>Louis treated all with uniform kindness, and taught them the lessons +they could not fail to appreciate, though, as he had said, some of the +seed must fall on barren ground. It is not to be supposed that the +mill-owners were glad to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> lose the work of the children, for it was +worth much and cost little; but since they were not powerful enough to +establish monarchical government, they were forced to submit, and they +submitted gracefully, too, from the policy which, as Louis had said, +whispered "He has money," and they might sometime desire favor at his +hands.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me sometimes that Louis' money would not last as long as +his life; but when I said something of the kind, he answered:</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Emily; we shall not be embarrassed financially, for we +consult needs, and these you know are small compared to wants. A little +ready money will go a long way; we shall not suffer from interest nor +from high rates of taxation here; give yourself no uneasiness."</p> + +<p>When the school was started we were surprised, as well as pleased, to +receive calls from some of our good people, who desired to have their +children go to the Home School as pupils. They felt moved to take this +step from two considerations; one, the more thorough education which the +children would receive; and the other, an interest felt in our work, and +a desire to help the school to become one of the best.</p> + +<p>They proposed paying a tuition fee, to which we all consented, reserving +to ourselves the right of taking those who might desire to attend and +not be able to pay; and through their really generous contributions in +this way, when Burton Brown came to assume the duties of a schoolmaster, +there was a fund sufficient to pay him well for his services.</p> + +<p>We named this the Turner Fund, although Jane insisted it should be +<i>De</i>mond.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>John desired to donate his gift from Aunt Hildy to the Turner Fund, but +Louis objected, saying:</p> + +<p>"John, you have no right to do this; you need to get a house for +yourself before you help others. It would not be right to take your +money, and we cannot accept it."</p> + +<p>Matthias says:</p> + +<p>"'Pears like I kin tote ober to de 'Plot' an' tinker roun' thar wid de +chilun. John's done boun' I shan't do no moah work, an' I can't stop +still no how, for it 'pears like I'm dead 'fore de time."</p> + +<p>He made himself wonderfully useful there, and the children loved him. +John got along splendidly, and bought the saw-mill; for Ben, although +better, could not do any work at the mill, and John was very glad to own +it.</p> + +<p>I am ashamed to say that now and then a small-souled individual would +ventilate his miserable prejudices, and expressions like the following +came to our ears:</p> + +<p>"Wonder what'll happen if the niggers all get free; got one for a +saw-mill owner already;" all of which fell, to be sure, at John's feet +with an ignorant thud. Still, when we looked at him and realized his +noble nature, it seemed too bad to think there could be one such word +spoken.</p> + +<p>How fortunate it is that our hearts do naturally retain the perfume of +the roses, and forget the presence of the thorns! The wiser we grow the +more natural we become; and on the rock of truth we can stand, feeling +no jar, when the missiles of a grovelling mind are hurled against its +base. When we get tired, however, and are forced by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> the pressure of +material circumstances to wander down into the valley, while we stand +even then in the shelter of our mountain, still we find our feet +sometimes soiled by the gathered mud.</p> + +<p>Here is where the weak-hearted of our earth fail, and, looking not to +the mountains, become at last settled in the valley, and suffer even to +the end, borne down by the fettering chains of a life which is, at best, +only breathing. Their wings held close, they cannot rise beyond the +clouds and fog into the clearer atmosphere of a higher condition.</p> + +<p>My fortieth birthday is upon me. I am sitting in the room where, since +the day of our wedding, all of my best thoughts have been written. Sharp +winds blow around our dwelling, but our hearts heed not their harsh +voices. Louis and I have been retrospecting to-day, reading together the +journal of the past two years. We have kept it together, devoting two +pages to each day, each of us writing one. It is not uninteresting; many +changes have been dotted down; and still, to look in upon us, you could +not see them. Here is the date of one, the death of good Mr. Davis, and +an account of the sermon preached by Louis at his funeral, the +witnessing of his last experience among us, and the blessed comfort it +gave us, as with his death-cold lips he murmured, "My wife." Clara and +all, he saw their beckoning hands and angelic faces. He heard sweet +music blending with our voices as we sang to him at his request.</p> + +<p>"It is enough; let us rejoice together," said Louis, "for he has gone to +his own, and he shall have no more pain forever."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<p>On another page we read of the children's harvest gathered, and also of +their Christmas festivities, of the prosperous condition of the school, +and the untiring diligence of the scholars; extracts from lectures given +by John at the schoolhouse, and the date of his first lecture in the +Quaker city, Philadelphia; sorrowful records of the battles fought and +gained; a sad story of Willie Goodwin, who was taken prisoner by the +Confederates, and came home, poor fellow, only to die; news from our +Southern Mary in her Pennsylvania home, and an account of her visit to +us, bringing with her Louise, a pet girl, once owned by her father. I +saw John looking at her sharply, and with undisguised admiration, and I +thought, perhaps, when Ben's wedding day had passed, John might have +one. I could say truthfully, "I hope he will."</p> + +<p>No matter how many or great the changes, the robins still build their +nests in the elm tree, and the grass still grows to cover the earth of +brown with its emerald mantle; for what care the daisies and the grapes, +if the hand of the reaper bids them bow before his trusty blade? The +life is at their roots, and their flowers and blades will come again. So +with our hearts; they are as hopeful as in the earlier days, ere we had +lost sight of some of our jewels, and it is true our love has deathless +roots.</p> + +<p>Louis grows more blessed all the while. The step of my mother is slow, +and father bends to bear the burden of his years, while the voice of our +Fanny, who will be my sister through all time, cheers them in their +daily walk, as she holds in peace the place of little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> house-keeper. She +loves her home, and we love her. Louis and I have just been looking at +the pleasant picture in our middle room, where our Emily Minot, sitting +between gray hairs, holds in her lap a year-old brother (Louis), while +Fanny, sitting on the old sofa, sings the song of "Gentle Annie."</p> + +<p>Matthias, Peg and John are coming over the hill; Jane and her husband +will be here soon, for I am to have a birthday supper. Ben will be with +us, but Hal and Mary, with little Hal, are across the sea. They sailed +last June to find "Love's Fawn," or rather strength for Mary. Aunt +Hildy, "done up in marble," went with them. They will come to us in +June, the month of roses; I love it best of all.</p> + +<p>"Hope dey will; but 'pears like you's jes' gone an' done it."</p> + +<p>It is morning again. No clouds skirt the horizon; broad, beautiful +daylight beams lovingly upon us. The wind, which yesterday blew such +fierce breaths, journeyed southward during the night, and returned laden +with good-tempered sweetness, whispering of warmer days. We had a +pleasant birthday supper, and by request I read aloud a few of the +foregoing chapters. Matthias rose in terror as he listened to the +recital of our united lives, and interrupted me, saying:</p> + +<p>"De good lansake, 'fore de Lord ob Canaan! but you ain't gwine to put +<i>me</i> down in rale printed readin', is ye?"</p> + +<p>One would have supposed I had been reading his death warrant, or +something equally portentous, as he stood before me with dilated eyes +and upraised hands. I smiled at the picture and answered:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Wall," he said, in a despairing tone, "it'll jes' kill de sale ob dat +book. All de res' is good nuf, but dem tings I'se said don't have no +larnin' to 'em, Miss Em'ly. 'Spect de folks'll tink you's done gone +crazy puttin' me down by de side ob de white lamb. It's mighty quare an' +on-reasonablelike, 'tis sartin'."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Matthias," I replied, "the people will like it!"</p> + +<p>"Hope you's in de right ob it, but what kin you call it when it's all +done printed out fur ye?"</p> + +<p>"That is the question. Louis says 'call it <i>The Harvest of Years</i>.'"</p> + +<p>The look of quiet wonder which had succeeded the terrified expression +his face at first revealed merged gradually into one of happy certainty, +his large eyes filled with honest tears, and he said with much feeling:</p> + +<p>"Mas'r Louis knows what's right sure nuf. De good Lord had taken into de +kingdom some ob de bes' grain an' lef de ole stubble still. 'Pears like +'twas cuttin' a big field fur to take Miss Catten an' de white lamb too. +Ah! Miss Em'ly, dis harves' ob years is a gwine on troo all de seasons; +hope dis ole nigger'll be ready when de Lord comes roun' fur him."</p> + +<p>The child of my thought is christened by the recognition which comes +from the heart of one who is "faithful over the few things," and +therefore claims the promise which many with enlarged privileges fail to +acknowledge. Can I regret the choice Louis made? My heart says "never," +and my narrative shall be called "The Harvest of Years."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Louis, "I think so too; but my name for the book is 'Emily +Did It.'"</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harvest of Years, by +Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVEST OF YEARS *** + +***** This file should be named 18332-h.htm or 18332-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/3/18332/ + +Produced by Stacy Brown, Jason Isbell, Afra Ullah and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Harvest of Years + +Author: Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +Release Date: May 6, 2006 [EBook #18332] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVEST OF YEARS *** + + + + +Produced by Stacy Brown, Jason Isbell, Afra Ullah and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE + +HARVEST OF YEARS + +BY + +_M.L.B. EWELL_ + + +NEW YORK +G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS +182 Fifth Avenue +1880 + + + + +Copyright by +G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS +1880 + + + + +TO MY FAMILY + +THIS RECITAL OF MY LIFE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. + + +Old friends and other days have risen about me as I have written, +recalling, through my pen, these treasured experiences; and the pictured +characters are to me as real as earthly hands, whose touch we feel. I +have written as the story runs, with no effort at adorning, and those +who love me best will not bring to it the cold criticisms that may come +from other readers. To illustrate the truth of "a little leaven's +leavening the whole lump" has been my purpose, and if this purpose can +be even partially achieved, I shall deem myself sufficiently rewarded. +To those whom in previous years I have met in the field of my mission, +whose heart-felt sympathy and interest became the tide which bore me on, +as from public platform (as well as in private ways) I have, for truth's +dear sake, been impelled to utterances, to these friends I may hope this +volume will not come as a stranger, but that through it I may receive, +as in the days gone by, the grasp of their friendly hands. + + M.L.B.E. + +New Haven, Conn., _June_, 1880. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I.--Emily Did It 1 + +II.--From Girlhood to Womanhood 5 + +III.--Changes 11 + +IV.--Our New Friend 18 + +V.--Louis Robert 31 + +VI.--A Question and a Problem 49 + +VII.--Wilmur Benton 60 + +VIII.--Fears and Hopes 71 + +IX.--The New Faith 84 + +X.--Matthias Jones 95 + +XI.--The Teaching of Hosea Ballou 109 + +XII.--A Remedy for Wrong-talking 123 + +XIII.--Perplexities 137 + +XIV.--Louis returns 150 + +XV.--Emily finds peace 164 + +XVI.--Mary Harris 177 + +XVII.--Precious Thoughts 210 + +XVIII.--Emily's Marriage 226 + +XIX.--Married Life 240 + +XX.--Life Pictures and Life Work 254 + +XXI.--John Jones 274 + +XXII.--Clara leaves us 290 + +XXIII.--Aunt Hildy's Legacy 317 + + + + +THE HARVEST OF YEARS + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +"EMILY DID IT." + + +Among my earliest recollections these three words have a place, coming +to my ears as the presages of a reprimand. I had made a frantic effort +to lift my baby-brother from his cradle, and had succeeded only in +upsetting baby, pillows and all, waking my mother from her little nap, +while brother Hal stood by and shouted, "Emily did it." I was only five +years of age at that eventful period, and was as indignant at the +scolding I received when trying to do a magnanimous act, take care of +baby and let poor, tired mother sleep, as I have been many times since, +when, unluckily, I had upset somebody's dish, and "Emily did it" has +rung its hateful sound in my ears. To say I was unlucky was not enough; +I was untimely, unwarranted and unwanted, I often felt, in early years +in everything I attempted, and the naturally quick temper I possessed +was only aggravated and tortured into more harassing activity, rendering +me on the whole, perhaps, not very amiable. Interesting I could not be, +since whatever I attempted I seemed fated to say or do something to hurt +somebody's feelings, and, mortified at my failures, I would draw myself +closer to myself, shrinking from others, and saying again and again, +"Emily, why _must_ you do it?" + +Introducing myself thus clouded to your sympathy, I cannot expect my +reader would be interested in a rehearsal of all my early trials. + +You can imagine how it must have been as I marched along from childhood +through girlhood into womanhood, while I still clung to my strange ways +and peculiar sayings; upsetting of inkstands at school, mud tracking +over the carpet in the "best room" at home, unconscious betrayal of +mischief plans, etc., etc., made up the full catalogue of my days and +their experiences, and although I did have a few warm friends, I could +not be as other girls were, generally happy and beloved. + +Mother was the only real friend I had; it seemed to me, as I grew older, +she learned to know that I was too often blamed, where at heart I was +wholly blameless, and when sometimes she stroked my hair, and said, "My +dear child, how unlucky you are," I felt that I could do anything for +her, and she never, to my remembrance, said "Emily did it." + +From my father I often heard it. Hal rarely, if ever, said anything +else, and if I did sometimes darn his stockings a little too thick, it +was not such a heinous crime. He was handsome, and I was as proud of his +face as I was ashamed of my own; I know now that my features were not so +bad, but my spirit never shone through them, while Hal carried every +thought right in his face. My face also might have looked attractive if +I had only been understood, but I blame no one for that, when I was +covered even as a "leopard with spots," indicating everything but the +blessed thoughts I sometimes had and the better part of my nature. The +interval of years between my fifth and sixteenth birthdays was too full +of recurring mishaps of every kind to leave within my memory distinct +traces of the little joys that sometimes crept in upon me. I number them +all when I recall the face of my more than blessed mother and the mild +eyes of Mary Snow, who was kinder and nearer to me than the others of my +school-mates. + +Hal grew daily more of a torment, and being five years my senior, +"bossed" me about to his satisfaction, except at such times as I grew +too vexed with him to restrain my anger, and turning upon him would pour +volleys of wrath upon his head. On these occasions he seemed really +afraid of me, and, for a time after, I would experience a little peace. +Learning from experience that keeping my thoughts to myself was the best +means of quiet, I grew, after leaving school, less inclined to associate +with anyone except sweet Mary Snow. One blessed consciousness grew daily +on me, and that was that I came nearer my mother's heart, and as I was +never lazy, I shared many of her joys and trials and learned to keep my +rebellious nature almost wholly in check. Father was a good man, but +unfortunate in business affairs, and the first time he undertook to +carry out an enterprise of his own, he pulled everything over on to his +head--just as I did the baby. This was of course a misfortune of which +his wife had her share, but she never complained. The lines about her +eyes grew darker, and she ceased to sing at her work as before, and I +knew, for she told me, that in the years that followed, I grew so close +to her, I became a great help to her and really shared her burdens. My +little brother, Ben, varied Hal's "Emily did it," and with him "Emily +will do it" was a perfect maxim. Kites I made without number, and gave +my spare time to running through the meadows with him to help him fly +them and to the making of his little wheelbarrows, and I loved him +dearly. I seemed now to be less unlucky, and at home, at least, +contented, but society had no charms for me and I had none for society; +consequently we could happily agree to let each other alone, but, +without repining, I had still sometimes, oh! such longings--for +something, I knew not what. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD. + + +The old adage of a poor beginning makes a good ending, may have been +true in my case; certain it is that my sorest mishaps, or those I had +least strength to bear, came between my fifth and sixteenth birthdays. +After this came the happy period in which I was helpmeet to my mother, +and the gaining of an almost complete victory over my temper, even when +teased by Hal, who at that time was developing rapidly into manhood and +was growing very handsome. + +I was not changed outwardly, unless my smile was more bright and +frequent, as became my feelings, and my eyes, I know, shot fewer dark +glances at those around me when mishaps, although less frequent, came +sometimes to me. My good angel was with me oftener then, I thought, and +as I often told mother, it seemed to me I had daily a two-fold growth, +meaning that there was the growing consciousness of a nature pulsating +as a life within my heart that seemed like a strong full tide constantly +bearing me up. I scarcely understood it then, but now I know I had, as +every one has, a dual nature, one side of which had never been allowed +to appear above its earthly covering. + +My daily trials, coming always from luckless mistakes of my own, were +equal in their effect to the killing of my blossoms, for if any dared to +show their heads an untimely word or deed would bring a reproach--if +only in the three words, "Emily did it"--and this reproach was like the +stamping of feet on violet buds, breaking, crushing and robbing them of +their sweet promise. The life then must go back into the roots and a +long time elapse ere they could again burst forth; so all my better +nature, with its higher thoughts longing to develop, was forced down and +back, and now, in the enjoyment of more favorable environment, I was +beginning to realize the fruitful life which daily grew upon me, and +with it came strength of mind and purpose and an imagery of thought that +filled my soul to a delicious fullness. + +What a power those conditions were to me! I drank joy in everything. My +mother's step was as music, and her teachings even in household affairs +a blessing to my spirit. I remember how one day in September I was +dishing soup for dinner, the thought--suppose that she dies--came +rushing over me like a cold wave, and I screamed aloud; dropping my +soup-dish and all, and frightening poor mother almost out of her senses. + +"Have you scalded yourself, dear?" she cried, running toward me, and I +was nearly faint as I replied: + +"Only a thought. I am so sorry about the soup, but it was a terrible +thought," and then I told her. + +No word of chiding came from her lips. I thought I saw tears in her eyes +as she said: "I should not like to leave you, dear. We are very happy +here together," and I know my eyes were moist as I thought, "Emily did +it," but her mother understands her. + +How necessary all those days of feeling, full and deep, combined with +the details of practical life were to me, and although I shall never +date pleasant memories back to my earlier years, still if I had been too +carefully handled and nursed I never could have enjoyed those days so +much. + +Nearly twenty-four months of uninterrupted work and enjoyment passed +over me--and here is a thought from that first experience in soul +growth; I cannot ever believe that people will enjoy themselves lazily +in heaven more than here; I have another, only a vague idea of how it +will be, but I cannot think of being idle there--when a little change +appeared, only to usher in what proved to be a greater one, and the days +of the June month in which the first came I shall never forget. It was +when Hal came to me, hemming and thinking under my favorite tree in the +old orchard, while beside me lay my scrap-book in which I from time to +time jotted thoughts as they came to me. Hal sat down beside me and said +at once: + +"I'm going to try it, Emily." I dropped hemming and thinking together, +and said: + +"Try what?" + +"Try my luck." + +I was only bewildered by his answer, and he continued: + +"Emily, I'm determined to carry out the desires of my life, and now I am +intent on a Western city as the place best calculated to inspire me with +the courage and strength I need to carry out my aims and purposes, and +I thought I'd tell you now that I feel decided, and you will tell mother +for me; will you?" + +Never before in my life had I felt Hal so near to me. His manner toward +me had changed, of course, as he grew into manhood, and "Emily, will you +sew on this button?" or "Emily, are my stockings ready?" were given in +place of "Emily did it," but now, as he looked full in my face, and even +passed his arm about me with true brotherly affection, he seemed so +near, that the hot tears chased each other down my cheeks, and I sat +speechless with the feelings that overcame me. I thought of the handsome +face--always handsome in whatever mood--opposite me at the table, of the +manly form and dignified carriage I had watched with pride, and when I +could speak, I said, + +"Hal I cannot let you go." Hal was brave, but I knew he felt what I +said, for his looks spoke volumes as he said, + +"Shall you miss me so much?" + +"Oh! Hal," I cried, "we love you, mother and I, I never knew how much +till now." His head dropped a moment, and then he suddenly said, + +"You are the best sister a fellow ever had," and swallowing something +that rose in his throat, marched off through the fields directly away +from the house. I gathered up my work and scrap book, went in and +prepared the supper, showing outwardly no emotion, but with my heart +throbbing as if it would tell the secret on which I pondered, while I +wondered how I should tell my mother. + +Hal came in late to supper. I rushed from the table when I heard his +footsteps, and sought my room until I heard him coming up to his room, +when I went down stairs and busied myself with my work as usual. + +I washed the milk pans three or four times over that night, and was +about carrying them into the "best room," when mother said, + +"Why, Emily, we keep our milk pans in the buttery." + +"Oh!" I said, turning suddenly and letting my pans fall and scatter. And +when I picked them up and collected my senses, I thought, "I cannot tell +mother to-night after all, Hal will stay with us." When things were at +last in their places, I sauntered out through the lane in the beautiful +moonlight, and coming back met Hal who took my hand in his and +whispered, + +"Tell mother to-morrow, please, I want to go away next month and some +things are necessary to be done." + +"Have you told father yet?" + +"No, but he will not care." + +"Father _will_ care," I replied, "but you know since his misfortune, and +his conclusion that he cannot do anything but carry on the farm, he +seems to have lost his sprightly step and his cheery ways of old." + +"Well, Emily," said Hal, "I am no help to him on the farm, and could not +be if I tried, and the work I am doing now is anything but satisfying to +me." + +Then the thought occurred to me, I had no idea of what the boy desired +to accomplish, and the question what would you do Hal? was answered in +this wise-- + +"Wait till I've been away six months." + +"To build mud houses and fill them with mud people, was your favorite +amusement when you were a boy, I remember," I said, and he gave me such +a queer look that I started with the impression that came with it, but +said no more, and we walked along and went into the house together. + +The next day after dinner, when we were cleared up and alone in quiet, I +told mother. She was of course covered with surprise, but her words came +in wisdom and she said: + +"I can imagine what Halbert desires to do, and although the way looks +anything but clear, still I know I can trust him anywhere. He is a +blessed son and brother, Emily, and I doubt not I am selfish to feel +saddened by the thought of his leaving home (and a tear drop fell as she +spoke). I only fear he may be sick. His lungs are not very strong." + +"What will father say?" I asked. + +"Father's heart will miss him but he will not seek to stay an endeavor +of his earnest, ambitious boy." + +So my trial was not so hard as I had expected, and father was just as +wise as mother, and I alone rebellious concerning his departure. I cried +night and day whenever I could get a moment to cry in, and I could not +help it. How perverse I felt, although doing all I could to forward his +departure, which was daily coming nearer, and when the 4th of July came +and with it the gala day which the entire country about us enjoyed, I +could not and did not go to the pic-nic, or the speech ground, and I +succeeded in making all at home nearly as unhappy as myself. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +CHANGES. + + +Some people believe in predestination (or "fore-ordering," as Aunt Ruth +used to call it), and some do not. I never knew what I believed about +events and their happening, but it was certainly true I learned to know +that my efforts to hurry or retard anything were in one sense entirely +futile--that is, when I did not work in unison with my surroundings, and +made haste only when impelled. If I could have felt thus concerning +Hal's departure, I should have been of more service to him, and saved +myself from hearing "Oh, Emily, don't," falling as an entreaty from his +lips, at sight of my swelled eyes and woeful countenance. I think he was +heartily glad of the innovation made in our family circle, which, of +itself, was as wonderful to me as the story of Aladdin's Lamp to the +mind of a child. It happened so strangely too. Before I tell you of this +event I must explain that our family circle consisted of father, mother, +Halbert, Ben and myself. It was half past six in the evening of July 8, +18--, and we had just finished supper, when a loud knock was heard at +the back door, and opening it we received a letter from the hands of a +neighbor, who came over from the post-office and kindly brought our mail +with him. We received a good many letters for farming people, and I had +kept up a perfect fire of correspondence with Mary Snow ever since she +went to the home of her uncle, who lived some twenty miles distant, but +this appeared to be a double letter, and mother broke the seal, while we +all listened to her as she read it. It is not necessary to quote the +whole of it, but the gist of the matter was this: A distant cousin of +father's who had never seen any of us, nor any member of the family to +which her mother and my father belonged, had settled in the city of +----, about thirty miles from our little village. Her husband dying +shortly afterward, she was left a widow with one child, a son. In some +unaccountable way she had heard of father, and she now wrote telling us +that she proposed to come to see us the very next day, only two days +before Hal was to leave us. She went on to say that she hoped her visit +would not be an intrusion, but she wanted to see us, and if we could +only accommodate her during the summer she would be so glad to stay, and +would be willing to remunerate us doubly. Mother said simply, "Well, she +must come." Father looked at her and said nothing, while I flew at the +supper dishes attacking them so ferociously that I should have broken +them all, I guess, had not mother said gently, + +"Let me wash them, Emily, your hands tremble so." Then I tried to +exorcise the demon within, and I said: + +"How can we have a stranger here, putting on airs, and Hal going away, +and our home probably too homely for her. I know she never washed her +hands in a blue wash-bowl in the world, much less in a pewter basin such +as we use. She'll want everything we haven't got, and I shall tip +everything over, and be as awkward as--oh, dear! Mother, how I do wish I +could be ground over and put in good shape before to-morrow night." I +never saw my mother laugh so heartily in my life; she laughed till I was +fairly frightened and thought she had a hysteric fit, and when she could +speak, said: + +"Emily, don't borrow trouble, it may make Hal's departure easier for us. +It must be right for her to come, else it would not have happened. You +are growing so like a careful woman, I doubt not you will be the very +one to please her." + +Those words were a sort of strengthening cordial, and before I went to +sleep I had firmly determined to receive my cousin as I would one of my +neighbors, and not allow my spirit to chafe itself against the wall of +conditions, whatever they might be. + +So when the stage came over the hill, and round the turn in the road +leading to our house, I stood quietly with mother in the doorway waiting +to give the strange guest welcome in our midst. I was the first to take +her hand, for the blundering stage-driver nearly let her fall to the +ground, her foot missing the step as she clambered over the side of the +old stage. She gave me such a warm smile of recognition, and a moment +after turned to us all and said, "My name is Clara Estelle Desmonde, +call me Clara,"--and with hearty hand-shaking passed into the house as +one of us. Her hat and traveling mantle laid aside, she was soon seated +at the table with us, and chatting merrily, praising every dish before +her, and since her appetite did justice to her words, we did not feel +her praise as flattery. I had made some of my snow cake, and it was the +best, I think, I ever made. Mother had cream biscuit, blackberry jelly, +some cold fowl, and, to tempt the appetite of our city visitor, a few of +the old speckled hen's finest and freshest eggs, dropped on toast. She +did not slight any of our cooking, and my cake was particularly praised. +When mother told her I made it, the little lady looked at me so brightly +as she said, "You must keep plenty of it on hand as long as I stay, I am +especially fond of cake and pie," and although I well knew her dainty +fingers had never been immersed in pie-crust, still she had made herself +acquainted with the _modus operandi_ of various culinary productions and +talked as easily with us about them as if she were a real cook. She +seemed from the first to take a great liking to Hal, and, seated in our +family circle, this first night of our acquaintance, expressed great +regret at his early departure, and remarked several times during the +evening, that it would have been so nice if Halbert and her son Louis +Robert could have been companions here in "Cosy Nook," as she called our +house. It seemed anything but a nook to me, situated as it was on high +ground, while about us on either side, lay the seventy-five acres which +was my father's inheritance, when he attained his majority; but, to her, +this living aside from the dusty streets and exciting novelties of the +city, was, I suppose, like being deposited in a little quiet nook. When +we said "good night," all of us were of one mind regarding our new-found +friend. I was perfectly at ease that first evening, and felt no +inclination to make an unlucky speech until the next day, which was +Sunday, came, and with it the question, "Are you going to church?" It +was always our custom to go to the village church each Sabbath, and I +enjoyed the sermons of Mr. Davis, then our minister, very much. He was a +man of broad soul and genial spirit, and very generally liked. His +sermons were never a re-hash but were quickened and brightened by new +ideas originally expressed. Now, however, when this little lady asked, +"Are you going to church?" I did not think at all of a good sermon, but +of the shabbiness of my best bonnet, and I bit my tongue to check the +speech which rose to my lips--"We generally go, but I'd rather not go +with you"--while mother answered, + +"Yes, Mrs. Desmonde" ("Clara, if you please," the lady interposed), "we +always go; would you like to go with us?" + +"Oh, yes, thank you, it is a delightful day." + +I kept thinking about those shabby ribbons and wondering if I could not +cover them up with my brown veil, and after breakfast was over, I +actually did re-make an old lemon-colored bow to adorn myself with. I +felt shabby enough, however, when we were all ready to start and my poor +cotton gloves came in contact with the delicate kids of our guest, when +she grasped my hand to say, "You cannot know, Emily dear, how happy I +am." + +Somehow she made me forget all about how I looked, but the sermon that +day was all lost. My eyes divided their light between herself and +Halbert, and my heart kept thumping heavily, "Hal goes away to-morrow." +I think Hal knew my thoughts, for he sat next to me in our pew, and once +when tears were in my eyes, tears which came with thoughts of his +departure, he took my hand in his and held it firmly, as if to say, "I +shall come back, Emily, don't feel badly." I looked him the grateful +recognition my heart felt, and I crowded back the tears that were ready +to fall, and when we drove home, our little lady chatting all the way, I +was happier than before I went. + +Monday morning came and with it Hal's departure. We were up betimes. I +think Hal slept little, and I heard the old clock strike nearly every +hour, and was down stairs before either mother or father were up. He was +to take the stage at half-past eight, and ride to the nearest station, +and our breakfast was ready at half-past six. It was a sad breakfast, +and though mother tried hard to keep up a conversation on different +topics, it was useless. Tears would fill our eyes, and brother Ben, +though at that time only about thirteen, was forced to leave his +breakfast untasted, and, rising hastily, to take himself out of Hal's +sight; but the stage came rumbling down the road, and almost ere we knew +it, our good-byes were said, and Hal was waving his handkerchief from +his high seat beside the driver, from whence he could see the old home +for a long distance. + +Everything, so far as his plans were concerned, worked favorably, and a +chance inquiry, resulted in a good offer as book-keeping clerk in a +wholesale warehouse in Chicago. Chicago was in her youth then. Many +changes have passed over the city of the West since those days, but her +mercantile houses were never in a more flourishing condition than during +Hal's stay there. Father had informed himself regarding the man with +whom he was to be connected, and was well satisfied of his integrity, +ability, etc. + +When Hal was fairly gone I went to my room and cried disconsolately, and +groaned aloud, and did everything but faint, and I might have +accomplished that feat if Clara (for she insisted on that appellation) +had not come in upon me, resolved to bring about different conditions. +She succeeded at last, and the afternoon found us quietly sitting +together in our middle room apparently enjoying ourselves, though I did +not forget Hal was gone, and a cloud of woe overspread my mental +horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +OUR NEW FRIEND. + + +We could not object to the stay of our cousin, and she planned to remain +indefinitely. I always smiled at the relationship, and I don't know +exactly how near it was, but this I believe was it--father's mother and +Mrs. Desmonde's grandmother were cousins; that brought me, you see, into +very near kinship. She laughed at it herself, but, nevertheless, I was +"her dear cousin Emily" always. "Little Lady" was my name for her, but +she forced me call her "Clara." Her mother, it seemed, had married a +gentleman of rank and fortune of French descent, and although she told +me she was the picture of her mother, the graceful ways of which she was +possessed, her natural urbanity and politeness, together with her +fascinating word-emphasis accompanied with so many gestures, were all +decidedly French, "Little lady" just expressed it. She was, when she +came to our home, only thirty-seven years of age, and looked not more +than twenty. Her complexion was that of a perfect blonde; her hair was +light and wavy, clear to the parting; she had a luxuriant mass of it, +and coiled it about her shapely head, fastening it with a beautifully +carved shell comb. Her eyes were very dark for blue, large and +expressive; she had teeth like pearls, and a mouth, whose tender +outlines were a study for a painter. She seemed to me a living, +breathing picture, and I almost coveted the grace which was so natural +to her, and hated the contrast presented by our two faces. She called my +complexion pure olive, and toyed with "my night-black hair" (her own +expression), sometimes winding it about her fingers as if to coax it to +curl, and then again braiding it wide with many strands, and doing it up +in a fashion unusual with me. She was a little below the medium size, I, +a little above, and though only turned nineteen, I know I looked much +older than she. We were fast friends, and I could do her bidding ever +and always, for her word was a friendly law, and I am sure no family +ever had so charming a boarder. She bought gingham, and made dresses +exactly alike for herself and me, made some long house-aprons, as she +called them, and would never consent to sit down by herself but helped +about the house daily until all the work was done, then changed her +dress when I changed mine, and kept herself close, to us, body and +soul--for she seemed in one sense our ward, in another our help, making +her doubly dear, and I many times blessed the providence that brought +her to us just as we were losing Hal. She was sensitive, but never +morbidly so, apparently anxious to have every one about her happy, and I +never saw the airs that I expected her to assume, for she was ever +smiling and happy in her manner. + +As the days passed over us, we took long walks in the woods together, +and she unfolded to me leaf by leaf of her life history. + +The deep love she had borne her husband remained unchanged--and nightly, +with perfect devotion, she looked upon and pressed to her lips his +miniature, which was fastened to a massive chain hanging on her neck; +never in sight, but hidden from other eyes, as if too sacred for their +gaze. Her husband was of French parentage, but had, when at the early +age of sixteen she married him, been alone in this country. He was +twenty years older than herself, and her parents passing away soon after +her marriage, he had been husband, mother and father. Her son, Louis +Robert, eighteen years of age, was named for him, and both she and her +son had fortunes in their own right. It seemed that Mr. Desmonde had an +illness lasting for months, and knowing it must prove fatal, had +arranged every thing perfectly for his departure. It was his wish that +Louis Robert should, if agreeable to his mind, pursue a course of study, +to prepare him for professional work of some kind. + +In a letter written on his death-bed he impressed upon his son the +necessity of dealing honestly with his fellow-men, and exhorted him to +endeavor to be always ready, as opportunities presented themselves for +small charities and kindnesses; these, as his father thought, are often +more praiseworthy than donations to public objects, and the giving of +alms to be seen of men, as many wealthy people do. + +In accordance with these last wishes, Louis was placed under the care of +a worthy man, who was principal of a seminary a little distance from the +city where their home was. Clara desired him to come to us about the +twentieth of August and stay two weeks, and also urged me to go to her +home with her and meet him, then returning together. + +I hardly wanted to do so, but her sweet urgency persuaded me, and I +consented, reflecting mournfully over those shabby ribbons and that +lemon-colored bow. If there is anything like help in the world that I +receive most gratefully, it is the prompt recognition of a need, and +unobtrusive aid for it. A short time before the day appointed for us to +go to the city, our Clara came down stairs dressed in a beautiful dark +shade of blue Foulard silk, with a lace ruff about her throat, fastened +with a lemon-colored bow. + +The blood rushed with a full tide to my face when my eyes fell upon her +as she entered. Simple, I presume, to those accustomed to elegant +costume would her attire have seemed, but to me, as yet uninitiated in +the mysteries of society, dress, etc., she was the perfection of +loveliness, and the impression made upon me was an indelible one; I +never saw anything half so lovely and perfect as she at that moment +appeared to me. + +It was an unusual thing too for her to be dressed so nicely for an +afternoon at home. She had, I knew, many beautiful dresses, and had told +me sometimes of the elaborate toilets of the city, but had heretofore +donned as an afternoon dress the gray mohair she wore when she came, and +a light blue scarf over her shoulders was the only color she wore about +her. The weather was warm but the heat was never oppressive to her--her +blood, she said, had never felt as it were really warm since the night +her husband died. On this particular afternoon, we were talking +principally of Hal, and my eyes unconsciously riveted their gaze on the +folds of her dress hanging so gracefully about her, and trailing softly +on the carpet if moved. + +I wondered too a little at it, for I noticed it to be quite long in +front as well as behind. The afternoon was far spent, and it was nearly +time for Ben and father to come in to supper. Before she made any +allusion to her extra toilette, extra for our little home, and nodding +at me as I raised my eyes from the soft blue folds to meet the light of +the blue eyes above them, she said: + +"How does my dress please Mademoiselle Emily?" + +"Oh!" I replied, "I never saw so beautiful a dress." She smiled one of +her bright quick smiles as if some fancy struck her, and said, laying +her hand over the bow at her heart, + +"And this too?" + +"Both are beautiful in my eyes," I said, "and so suited to you Clara." + +After supper we were going to take a walk, and Clara went to her room, +doffed the blue Foulard and came down in the grey mohair. We had a +beautiful walk out from under the shade of the o'erarching chestnut +trees before our door, along the grassy highway leading to the upper +meadow, over the smooth newly-cut field on to the edge of the birch +woods beyond. There we rested quiet, coming back when the moon rose over +the hills and the stars hung out like lanterns on our track. + +We talked. Clara had her seasons of soul-talk as she called it, and that +night she read me a full page of her inner self the purport of which I +shall never forget. The more she revealed to me of herself the more I +loved her, and her words suggested thoughts that filled my +soul--thoughts which, in depths within myself I had never dreamed of, +found and swept a string that ere long broke its sweet harmonies on my +spirit. I seemed, all at once, to develop in spiritual stature and to +have become complex to myself. + +When we said "good night" to the folks below and went up stairs +together, Clara caught my hand and said, + +"Come, mademoiselle, come to my room, please," and of course I went, +making a mock courtesy as if I were a queen, and she my maid. She +unpinned my linen collar and unhooked my dress, while I sat wonder +struck, saying nothing until I felt the fleecy blue silk being thrown +over my shoulders, when I essayed to articulate something. But when my +head emerged from the dress, she playfully covered my mouth with her +hand, and proceeded to fasten the dress which seemed just to fit; then +came the delicate lace and the lemon bow. Taking my hand she led me to +the glass, surveyed me from head to foot, clapped her hands like a glad +child, and cried, + +"A perfect fit, but I was afraid." + +"Why, Clara," I said, "how, what?" + +"Never, never mind, you like it, I did it myself, and I wore it first +only to see how it struck you. 'Tis yours, my dear, go and put it away." + +I did not say thank you even, for she would not let me. I just kissed +her and went to my room, to my little room with its high-post bedstead, +three wooden chairs and shabby hair-cloth trunk, and dressed in that +beautiful blue dress with that new silk bow. I could not help taking the +old one out of the drawer to contrast it with the new, and although it +did look soiled and shabby, I thought I was almost wicked to have felt +so troubled at my little adornments, and then resolved to keep that +little old faded lemon ribbon as long as I should live, and I have it +now. + +Carefully I unpinned that new bow, laying it, with the first real lace +collars I had ever owned, in a mahogany box, as tenderly as though they +were pearls, and hung the blue Foulard in my closet between my best +much-worn alpaca and my afternoon gingham. + +That night I dreamed that when father went to feed the chickens in the +barn yard, a beautiful bird with silky wings of blue fluttered down +among them to be fed. How impressible my artless brain! As great an +event was this to me, as the inauguration of our highest potentate to +the people. + +Next morning I opened the closet door before dressing, and looked at the +new dress. The more I thought about it the more I wondered when or where +I should ever wear it, and not until a traveling suit, the fac-simile of +Clara's, was dropped upon me did I realize how the blue Foulard was +fitted to my shoulders. In her own sweet way she told me, that though we +were to remain only a few days at her home in the city, yet her friends +would surely call, and I must take the Foulard to wear in the +afternoons. Dear little soul, how tender she was of everybody's +feelings, and with what true womanly tact she turned, as far as +possible, every one into a pleasant path! Quick to notice needs, she +always applied her gifts with the greatest grace and tact, and without +making any one feel under obligation to her. + +The morning of August thirteenth dawned upon us not altogether smiling, +since the sky looked as if inclined to weep. We started, however, on our +intended journey, and more than once the old stage-driver looked around +to catch a glimpse of my darling friend, who was quite a wonderment to +the country folk. Inaccurate rumors of Clara and her fortune had been +talked about among them--yet none knew just how it all was, except our +family, and we would betray no secrets that she wished kept. I hardly +recognized myself when at last we arrived at our journey's end, and I +was in Clara's home. Never before had I seen myself reflected in a long +pier-glass, and never on earth did I seem so homely; my hands were too +large and awkward, and I sat so uncomfortably on the luxurious chairs. + +Clara noticed my discomfort and kept me changing from one position to +another, until I was so vexed with myself I insisted on sitting in a +corner and persuaded Clara that my head ached. The compassionate soul +believed it and was bathing my temples, when a light step aroused us +both, and a moment later she was in the arms of her beloved son, whom +she proudly introduced to me. + +I was surprised at his appearance--I thought him a boy, and so he was in +years, but if Clara had not told me his age, I should have guessed him +to be twenty-five. He had large dark eyes, a glorious head, perfect in +its shape, an intellectual forehead, and the most finely chiselled +mouth, most expressive of all his feelings; his lips parted in such +loving admiration of his mother and closed so lovingly upon her own. +After a profound bow to myself and a hearty grasp of the hand, he drew +her to the crimson cushions of a tete-a-tete standing near, and passing +his arm around her held her closely to him, as if afraid he would lose +her. I envied her, and any heart might well envy the passionate devotion +of a son like Louis Robert Desmonde. + +I wanted to leave them to themselves, but as I could not do this, I +covered my head, which really ached now, with my hands, and tried hard +not to listen to their audible conversation, but from that time I +appreciated what was meant by the manly love of this son, differing so +widely from anything I had ever before known. Like his mother, he had +great tact, and suited himself exactly to conditions and persons. + +I moved as in a dream. Everything that wealth could lavish on a home was +here. I occupied Clara's own room with her, and it seemed at night as if +I lay in a fairy chamber; there were silken draperies of delicate blue, +a soft velvety carpet whose ground was the same beautiful blue, covered +with vines like veins traced through it, and massive furniture with +antique carving, and everything in such exquisite taste, even to the +decorated toilette set on the bureau. Everything I thought was in +perfect correspondence except the face on my lace-fringed pillow. I +seemed so sadly out of place. I wondered if Clara was really contented +with her humbly-furnished room at our house. Callers came as she had +predicted, and it was all in vain my trying to keep out of the sight of +those "_city people_." Insisting on my presence, and knowing well I +should escape to our room if left by myself, Louis was authorized to +guard me, and I had no chance of escape; I felt myself an intruder upon +his time, every moment until during the last evenings of my stay, when +in the lighted parlors quite a happy company gathered. I then had an +opportunity of seeing a little of his thought, running as an +undercurrent to his nature. Clara had been singing with such sweetness +of expression and pathetic emphasis, that my eyes were filled with tears +of emotion. Miss Lear, a young lady friend, followed her, and sang with +such a shrill voice, such unprecedented flying about among the octaves, +that it shocked me through every nerve, and I trembled visibly and +uttered an involuntary exclamation of impatience. Louis caught my hand, +and the moment she ended, whispered: + +"Are you frightened?" + +"Oh!" I said, "she is your guest, but where is her soul?" + +"In heaven awaiting her, I suspect," he replied, "but, Miss Emily, she +is a fair type of a society woman. I have just been thinking that +to-morrow at sunset I hope to be among the birds and beneath the sky of +your native town; one can breathe there; I am glad to go." + +"I don't want you to go," I said, impetuously (poor Emily did it). + +He turned his full dark eyes upon me, and I felt the tide that flooded +cheek and brow with crimson. + +"Explain to me, Miss Emily," he said, "you love to keep my mother +there." + +"I did not mean to say it, Louis, but it is true." + +"Why true?" + +"I am so sorry--" + +My dilemma was a queer one; I had to explain, and the tears that +gathered when his mother sang, came back as I described our plain home. + +"I love my home, it is good enough for me, I could not exchange it even +with you, but you will think us rude, uncultivated people, I fear; you +will find no attraction there; everything is as homely there as I am +myself!" + +And I never can forget how his bright, dark eyes grew humid with +sympathy, to be covered with the sunlight of his smile at the earnest +honesty of my remarks, especially the last one. + +"Ah! Miss Emily, you know not your friend; I am more anxious than ever +to go, and care not if you are sorry." + +"I am glad now of my unexpected speech," I replied, "and feel as if I +had really been to the confessional; your mother is so sensitive, I +could not tell her, and I have kept this thought constantly before me, +'He will not stay if he goes, and I am sure he cannot eat rye bread and +butter.'" + +"You will see, Miss Emily, how I shall eat it, but we are to be +interrupted; here comes the soulless girl that shocked you so; mother is +with her; excuse me for a moment," and he made his way to a corner of +the parlors, seating himself alone as if in reverie. + +"Mademoiselle Emily, my friend, Miss Lear, desires an introduction to +you; be seated, Miss Lear," and Clara took the chair on the other side; +the disappointment of Miss Lear, in not finding Louis, was visible, even +to my unpractised eye, and her tender enquiries of his mother regarding +his health etc., were amusing. + +I saw her furtive glances at my plain toilette, and knew she thought me +a lowly wild flower on life's great meadow, a dandelion, unnecessary to +be included in a fashionable nosegay, and while these thoughts were +passing through my mind, Clara left us to ourselves, and, feeling in +duty bound to say something to me, she began: + +"Mrs. Desmonde tells me your house is in the country; how sublime the +country is! You see sunrises and sunsets, do you not?" + +"I hope I do," I replied. "There is great pleasure in watching nature." + +"Oh! the country is so sublime, don't you think so?" + +"Well that depends on your ideas of the sublime; I do not imagine +milking cows and butter-making would correspond with the general ideas +of sublimity." + +"Oh!" and she tossed her befrizzled head in lofty disdain, "that is +perfectly horrid, I cannot see how human beings endure such things; oh! +dear, what a poor hand I should be at living under such circumstances." + +"You would perhaps enjoy the general housework more, leaving the problem +of the dairy to another." + +"Housework?--I--ah! I see you are unlearned--beg your pardon--in society +ways. Do my hands betray symptoms of housework?" and she laughed +ironically. + +At this moment Louis came to take the seat his mother had left, and +heard of course my reply to Miss Lear's last remark. + +"Yes, I know I am verdant in the extreme, and must plead guilty also to +the charge of milking, churning and housework; I take, however, some +pride in trying to do all these things well, and I believe the most +fastidious can partake of the creamy butter rolls, we make at home." + +"Bravo," exclaimed Louis, "pray tell me what elicited Miss Emily's +speech?" + +"We were talking of the country," I replied, growing bold; "Miss Lear +thinks the country is sublime, but the butter-making, etc., horrid." + +"Well," said Miss Lear, "it may be my ideas are rather crude, but really +I cannot imagine I could ever make butter! Do you think I could, Mr. +Desmonde?" leaning forward to catch Louis' eye, and plying her flashy +fan with renewed energy and great care to show the ring of emeralds and +diamonds that glistened on her right fore-finger. + +"I cannot say, Miss Lear, I am going up to find out the ways and expect +to be Miss Emily's assistant. I imagine it takes brain to do farm work." + +Miss Lear waited to rally a little and said only, "Complimentary in the +extreme! Pray tell me the hour, I think my carriage must be here;" then +the fashion-plate shook hands with us both and departed. + +I felt almost ashamed, and repeated verbatim to Louis our conversation; +he laughed, and, patting my shoulder, said: + +"You spoke quite rightly, she was impertinent, pardon her ignorant +vanity." + +Then I stood with Louis and Clara in the centre of the parlors and +received the adieux of their friends. Louis carried his mother in his +arms up stairs and soon dreams carried me home to green fields and +butter-making. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +LOUIS ROBERT. + + +Gloriously beautiful was the morning of August twenty-first. We were up +early, for the old stage would not wait for us, and we had much to do +just at the last moment. I say we, for I tried to do all that was +possible to assist Clara in packing the two large trunks we were to +take. One thing puzzled me. I had heard Clara say so many times to +Louis, who went over the house with her during the early part of each +day, "Now leave everything in shape to be taken at any moment." And this +last morning all the chairs were covered, and Louis worked with old Jim, +time-honored help, to accomplish it all. I had a secret fear that they +were planning to go away to seek another home somewhere, and it troubled +me. I wondered the more because Clara said nothing to me, and she was +naturally so ingenuous and apt to tell me her little plans freely. It +seemed to take less time than it takes to write it ere we were landed at +the door of my home, and found father and mother waiting to welcome us. +There was a look of surprise on the faces of my parents as Louis +descended from the stage and turned so gallantly to his little mother, +as he often called her. He was not the boy they expected to see, but a +man to all appearance, tall and handsome, and the embodiment of a +politeness which is founded, as I believe, on a true respect for the +opinions and conditions of others. I felt gladly proud of our supper +table that night, and I knew Louis looked in vain for rye bread. He did +ample justice to our creamy butter, however, and after supper remarked +to me that Miss Lear might like a few pounds of such. + +Days passed happily along, and the two weeks allotted for Louis' stay +came nearly to a close. I dreaded to have the last day appear. Like his +mother, he had dropped into his own appropriate niche, and came into our +family only as another ray of the sunshine that brightened our home. I +had Halbert in my mind much of the time, and talked of him to Louis +until he said he felt well acquainted with him, and looked forward to +meeting him as one looks to some happiness in store. + +Louis was original in his expressions and different from all others of +his age. One evening when we were talking of Hal, as we sat on the old +doorstone in the moonlight, he said: + +"I have something to do for your brother, Miss Emily, I cannot tell you +how, but we shall see, we shall never lose sight of each other, we are +always to be friends, Miss Emily." + +And the light of his dark eyes grew deep and it seemed as if I looked +into fathomless depths as he turned them full upon me for a moment. + +"Only a few hours between this long breath I am taking and the school to +which I go (mother has written the professor, asking if I can stay +longer--we shall have an answer to-morrow). It is doing me good, my +mind goes over the country round us here, and I am gathering long +breaths that give my mind and body strength. Ah! Miss Emily," he said, +as he rose and walked to and fro, "I shall sometime breathe and act as I +want to. I pray every day that my little mother may live to see me doing +what I desire to do, and, also, for strength. I need great strength, +Miss Emily. You will help to keep little mother alive, I know you will." + +And he came back, took both my hands in his own; I felt almost afraid--I +cannot tell you how powerfully expressive his look, voice and gestures +were, and he continued: + +"I like you--like you more than you know; you are true, you can be +depended on; you call my little mother your fairy cousin, and I call you +her royal friend. Do me a favor," he continued, "unbind your massive +hair and let it trail over your shoulders." And before I realised it my +hair swept the doorstone where I sat. "There," as he brushed it back +from my face, "look up and you are a picture; wear your long hair +floating--why not?" + +"Oh, Louis," I said, "how could I ever work with such a heavy mass about +me. If, as you say, I look like a picture, I certainly ought not to, for +I am only a country dandelion even as a picture," and I laughed. He +looked at me almost fiercely, as he said: + +"Miss Emily, never say it again; you are full of poetry; you have +glorious thoughts; you dream while at work; some day you will know +yourself;" and then there came the far-away look in his eyes. Clara came +to sit with us, and the evening wore itself into night's deep shading, +and the early hour for rest came to us all. The professor was amiable +and willing to accord two weeks more of freedom to Louis, who seemed to +enjoy more every day; and when he entered upon his fourth week, said: + +"He wished that week might hold a hundred days." + +It seemed to me that since Clara came to us she had been the constant +cause of surprise either in one way or another. In herself, as an +individual, she was to me a problem of no little consequence and not +easily solved, and she was continually bringing forth something +unexpected. + +The last of the third week of Louis' stay was made memorable by one of +her demonstrations. It was Wednesday evening, the last of our ironing +was finished, and mother and I were folding the clothes as we took them +down from the old-fashioned horse, when we heard her sweet voice +claiming us for special consultation. + +"Mrs. Minot," she called, and we left our clothes and went into the +square room, as we called it. Father and Louis were there, and when we +were seated she began: + +"Now, my dear friends, I propose to ask a favor of you. I love you three +people, and you have made me so happy here I do desire to call this spot +home for always. It seems to me I cannot feel so happy in another place, +and now you know I have many belongings in my old home in the city. I +know a lady who has met with misfortune, an old friend of my husband's +family, who is worthy, and forced at present by circumstances to earn +her living. Now may I ask you, my dear friends, to let me bring my +furniture here. Will you give me more room, that I may establish myself +just quite enough to make it pleasant, and then I can let my friend have +my house (upon condition of her retaining my old help, which I shall not +permit to be a trouble to her financially), and through your favor I may +help another. I should have asked it long ago, but I waited for my boy +to come and taste the air of your home here, and since he loves you as +well as I do, may we stay?" + +And she held her little white hands toward us, and opened her blue eyes +wide. + +Of course we all gladly consented. + +Then she clapped her hands, and turning to Louis, said: + +"Louis Robert, thank them." + +And he bowed and said in his own expressive way: + +"We will try to appreciate your kindness." + +I knew then what the covered chairs meant, but I secretly wondered "How +on airth," as Aunt Hildy used to say, all those moveables were to be got +into our house. This thought was running through my head when Clara +spoke, crossing the room as she did so, and taking my father's hand--and +he was such a reserved man that no one else would ever have dreamed of +doing so. + +"Mr. Minot, I have not finished yet. Would you grant me one thing more? +May I have a little bit of your ground on the west side of your house, +say a piece not more than eighteen by twenty-five feet, with which to do +just as I please?" + +Father looked thunderstruck, as he answered: + +"What can you do with it, Clara?" + +"Oh, never mind; may I?" + +"Yes, yes," he said in a dreamy way. + +And mother looked up, to be met by the eyes which sought her own, while +the sweet lips queried: + +"Will you say so too if you like my plans?" + +"I'll try to do what is best for us all"--and that meant volumes, for my +mother was thoroughly good, and as strong in what she deemed to be right +as mortal could be, and she never wavered a moment, where right was +considered. Unfaltering and true, her word was a law, and Clara at her +quiet answer felt the victory won. Now for the sequel, thought I, and +then Louis asked me to take a stroll in the moonlight, and although a +little curious at the revelation awaiting us, I could not deny him and +went for my hat and shawl. What a lovely night it was, and how the stars +stealing one by one into the sky seemed like breathing entities looking +down upon us. It seemed that night as if they heard what Louis said, and +you would not wonder had you seen the youthful fervor of this dark-eyed +youth; this strange combination of man and boy. When with him I felt +awed into silence, and though his thoughts always brought response from +my soul, yet did I hesitate for expression, language failing me utterly. +How many beautiful thoughts he uttered this night, and how strangely I +answered him! He was young and had not learned the lesson of waiting, if +effort of his own could hasten the development of any loved scheme. I +cannot, will not try to tell you all that he said, but he spoke so +positively, and commanded as it were an answer from my very soul. He +told me of his love for painting, of his great desire to do something +worthy of the best, as he expressed it. + +"And my first picture is to be yourself," he said; "you shall speak on +canvas. You think yourself so plain; oh! you are not plain, Miss Emily; +I love you, and you are my wild flower, are you not? Speak to me, call +me your Louis! Love me, as I do you. Ah! if you did not love me I could +not stay here till to-morrow--you think me young and presumptuous--you +say I do not know myself and I will change--I will not change--I am not +young--I want great love, such as comes to me through your eyes, to help +me--and you love me--you are my precious wild flower--I shall live for +you and my little mother." + +No word had escaped my lips, and now he paused, and looking at me, said: + +"Tell me if you do not love me!--tell me, Emily." + +Why did I--how could I answer him as I did--so cold; my voice fell upon +my own ear as I said slowly: + +"I don't know, Louis--you are so strange." + +What an answer! He quivered and the tears came to his eyes; he dashed +them aside and said: + +"How long shall I wait for you? say it now and help me; your spirit +loves me; I can hear it speak to me." + +I thought for the moment he was crazed. He divined my thought and said: + +"No, not crazy, but I want your help." + +"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I don't know, I am so ignorant--why was I born +so? don't treat me unkindly, you are dear to me, dear, but I can't +talk." + +"Never, never say so again." + +He seemed taller as he paused in his walk, and released the firm hold he +had kept of my arm, said slowly: + +"God waits for man, and angels wait, and I will wait, and you will tell +me sometime--say no word to my little mother"--and he kissed my +forehead, a tear-drop falling on me from his eyes, and we walked +silently and slowly home. + +I sought my room, and crying bitterly, said to myself, "Emily Minot must +you always do the very thing you desire not to do?" + +When my eye met Louis' at the table next morning, I felt as if I had +committed an unpardonable sin. My whole being had trembled with the deep +respect and admiration I had felt for him since the moment we met, and I +certainly had given him cause to understand me to be incapable of +responding to his innermost thought. I felt he would treat me +differently, but a second look convinced me that such was not the fact. +His noble nature could not illtreat any one, and I only saw a look of +positive endurance, "I am waiting," photographed on his features, and +made manifest in all his manner toward me, and a determined effort to +put me at ease resulted at last in forcing me to appear as before, while +all the time a sharp pain gnawed at my heart, and, unlike most girls, I +was not easy until I told my mother of it all. + +She stroked my dark hair and said: + +"You and he have only seen nineteen short years. Wisdom is the ripened +fruit of years; you cannot judge of your future from to-day." + +That comforted me, and I felt better in my mind. I planned something to +say to Louis, but every opportunity was lost, and the last week of his +stay had already begun. The plans of his little mother had been confided +to me, and work had commenced. + +There was to be an addition of four large rooms on the west side of our +house, and they were planned in accordance with Clara's ideas. She did +not call them her's, and started with the understanding that the +improvements were just a little present for her dear cousins. Best of +all, we were to have a bow window in one of the rooms, and this was +something so new, so different, it seemed a greater thing to me than the +architecture of the ancient cathedrals. A bow window, and the panes of +glass double, yes, treble the size of the old ones! + +I heard father say to mother that this new part would make the old one +look very shabby; but Louis had told me his mother intended to do all +father would allow her to, and encourage him a little, etc. And we were +to have a new fence. You cannot imagine how fairy-like this all seemed +to me, and I could hardly believe what I saw. It seemed as if we were in +a wonderland country, and I had moved as in a dream up to the last hour +of my walk with Louis. Then I seemed to awake, as if shaken by a rough +hand, and since then I had been striving to appear what I was not, all +the time thinking that Louis misunderstood me, and here we were in the +last week of his stay and no word as yet in explanation. I had thought +it over until it became a truth to me that after all he had not meant +that he loved me other than as a sister, and it also seemed to me that +was just what I needed. What remained was to have it settled between us, +and to do that I must clothe my thoughts with words, else how could he +know how I felt. It seemed, too, that it was sheer boldness on my part +to dream for a moment that Louis spoke of life's crowning love. He meant +to be as a brother to me, and again I sighed, as I stood at the ironing +table, "Ah, Emily Minot, you are a born mistake, that's just what you +are!" and as I sighed I spoke these words, and, turning, found myself +face to face with Louis, who had just come from the village. He never +could wait for the stage to come, and had been over as usual for +letters. + +"The only mistake is that you don't know yourself," he said. + +And the tears that had welled up to my eyes fell so fast, and I was so +choked, that I turned from work, thinking to escape into mother's +bedroom and hide myself; but my eye caught sight of a letter in his hand +unopened, and love for Hal rose above all my foolish tears, and so I +stood quietly waiting the denouement. + +"Come into the other room with me, Emily; I have something to tell you." + +He sat down on the little chintz-covered lounge, and I beside him. + +"Emily, you are a strong woman, your heart will beat fast, but you will +neither scream nor faint when I tell you; your brother is ill. There was +a letter in the office and also a telegram at the depot. What will be +done, who can go to him?" + +I did not scream or faint as he had said, but I clasped my hands tightly +and shut my eyes as if some terrible sight was before me, while my poor +heart grieved and brain reeled, as I thought, "Oh! he will die, poor +Hal! alone among strangers, and how would our patient mother bear it, +and what should we do!" + +My face was white, I know, for grief always blanched my face and brought +those terribly silent tears, that fall like solemn rain drops--each a +tongue. You must remember that I was a smothered fire in those days. + +Louis put his strong arm around me, and stroked my forehead as if I were +a child and he my mother. + +"He will not die, little flower, thy brother will live; you must go to +him, and I will go with you. You must not go alone to a great city." + +"Oh Louis!" I said, "he had only just begun to love me when he went +away, and now if he dies, what shall I do without him? Prayers have but +little weight, they ought to have saved him, I have prayed so long, so +hard, Louis, for his safety. But I must tell mother." And when she heard +me, and I said I must go to him, she sat down as if in despair; but a +moment after looked almost cheerful as she said: + +"You must start to-night, my dear, and I must get all the little +medicines I can think of ready for you to take, and as soon as he is +able he must come home. If it is a fever, I fear for his lungs." + +Clara waited until our talk was over, and then came and said Louis must +go with me; put into my hands a well filled purse, and said: + +"Bring the brother back, dear cousin; don't wait for him to get well; +bring him back on a bed if necessary; he will never get well among +strangers." + +When father came he was pained beyond expression, and his first thought +was for means to do all that must be done. + +"Clara has provided that, father," and he was too thankful to reply. + +Everything was ready; Louis and I said "good-bye" to all, and drove +rapidly away, for in order to reach the station below ours, where we +could take a night train West, we must ride thirty miles. The train was +due at eight-forty-five, and it was four o'clock when we started; a +neighboring farmer (Mr. Graves), who had a span of fleet horses took us, +and we dashed over the ground rapidly, having full five minutes to +breathe in at the depot ere we took the train. No luxurious palace cars +in those days, you know, just the cushioned seats, but that was enough +for me; I thought I could have sat on a hard wooden seat, or on anything +if I only could reach that suffering boy. Louis tried to arrange our +baggage so that I could sleep. + +"Sleep will not come to my eyelids to-night, Louis, I shall not sleep +until I see Halbert, and know how he is and is to be." + +"Now, Miss Emily," he said as he took my hand in his, "I say you must +sleep. Watching will do him no good until we get there, and more than +this, it may do him much harm, for if you get so tired, you will be ill +yourself when you arrive and then he will have no sister. For Hal's +sake, Miss Emily, you shall go to sleep; lean on my shoulder, and I +believe I can help your nerves to become quiet." + +I knew he was right, and yielded myself to the strong control he +possessed over me, and I slept I know not how long. When I awoke Louis +said we were getting along at good speed. + +"Day will break soon, and then comes a change of cars, and in a little +while we shall see the great city." + +I was for a few moments at a loss to realize everything; when I did I +said: + +"Selfish girl to sleep so long, and you have sat here watching me, and +now you are so tired." + +"Not so tired,--so glad for your rest--I can sleep to-morrow, and when +we get to Chicago you shall watch him days and I will watch nights; we +shall go to him armed with strength, which is more than medicine; I told +you long ago I had something to do for Hal, you see it is coming." + +The whole journey was pleasant, and sometimes it seemed wicked when Hal +was so sick for me to feel so rested and peaceful, but here I was +controlled, and it was blessed to be. I might never have come back to my +mother had it not been for the power of Louis' strong thought and will. + +The journey accomplished, it was not long ere we saw the dear face of my +blessed brother. I will not detail all the small horrors that met me in +the house where we found him. It might have seemed worse to me than it +really was, but oh! how I needed all the peace that had settled upon me, +to take in the surroundings of that fourth story room. Soul and sense +revolted at the sickening odors of the little pen, where, on a wretched +cot, my brother lay. I thought of our home, and drew rapid contrasts +between our comfortable beds, and the straw pallet before me; our white +clean floors, home-made rugs, and,--but never mind. Then I said in my +heart, "God help me to be more thankful," and with brimming eyes I +caught both Hal's hands in my own, and looked in his flushed face, +trying vainly to catch a look of recognition. He did not know me. Louis +had kindly stepped aside to give me all the room, but he watched me +closely, and caught me as I staggered backward feeling all the strength +go suddenly from my limbs, while from my lips came the words which +burned into my soul, "He will die." I had never in my life fainted, and +did not now. Louis drew a little flask of brandy from his pocket and +forced a few drops into my mouth. My will came back to me, and in a few +moments I could think a little. "A doctor, Louis, oh! where is there +one--what shall we do?" Even as I spoke, Hal's employer entered and with +him Dr. Selden. The merchant did not come as near to me as did the old +doctor with his good-natured, genial face, and quiet but elastic step. I +forgot everything but the sufferer, and turned to him with upraised +hands and streaming eyes, saying: + +"Oh! tell me quickly what to do, don't let him die, he has a good home +and friends, we love him dearly, help me to get him there," adding, in +answer to his look of inquiry, "I am his sister, and this gentleman," +turning to Louis, "is our friend Mr. Desmonde." + +The doctor laid his hand on my head and said: + +"I have not seen the patient before; an examination will doubtless help +me to answer your question, and to give you the help you ask. Rest +yourself, Miss, you will soon need a physician's aid yourself," and he +drew a chair close to the foot of the bed for me. Then he felt Hal's +pulse, stroked his head a little, and sat quietly down at the foot of +the bed just opposite me, and laid one hand over Hal's heart, leaning +forward a little, and looking as if half mystified. The few minutes we +sat there seemed to me an hour, waiting, as it seemed, for decision +between life and death. Suddenly Halbert sprang up and shouted: + +"Here! here! this way, almost finished--hold my heart--hold it still; +I'll make Emily's eyes snap when I get home, ha, ha!" and then a sort of +gurgling sound filled his throat, and he placed both hands over his +chest, and sank back, while for an instant all the blood left his face. +I put my hand into Louis', and groaned, trying hard to control myself, +for I knew we were close to the shadows, and perhaps, "Oh, yes," I +comfortingly thought, "perhaps we need not pass through them all." + +Doctor Selden moved to the head of his bed, and held both hands on Hal's +temples; for a few moments it seemed as if no one breathed, then Hal +drew a long breath as if he were inhaling something, and whispered: + +"That feels good; my head is tired, tired, tired." + +This gave me courage. It seemed then as if he were feeling the power of +an uplifting hand, and soon-- + +"Emily, Emily!" passed his lips. "Tell her to come to me, she will help +me, tell her to come." Then for a few moments all was still, and he +slept. Dr. Selden looked at me with hope in his eyes, and tears of +gratitude gathered to run like a river of rain drops over my cheeks. He +slept twenty minutes, and as he stirred the doctor motioned me to come +where he could see me. His eyes opened and met mine. + +"Emily!" he said, and putting both arms around my neck, drew my head +down to his pillow, and whispered: + +"Don't cry--I'll go home with you--all right, the end will be all +right." Fearing for his strength, I said softly: + +"Don't talk, you're too weak, Hal; lie still for a little while and shut +your eyes." I raised my head and put my hand on his forehead, and soon +he was asleep. Then in a low, kind tone the doctor told us the crisis +was past, and now we must wait for the changes, which were one by one to +fall on him. Hal's employer urged me to go to his house, and let Louis +remain with Halbert, and at last it was arranged that at night I should +sleep there, and Louis stay with Hal. Several hours would elapse, +however, before night, and during this time Dr. Selden, Louis and I +would stay with Hal. + +I had time during his long sleep to think of something to be done for +him, and realized, as I recovered from the first shock his situation +gave to my nerves, the importance of a different room, better +ventilation, etc., and when Dr. Selden motioned to Louis to take his +seat near Hal's head, where he could lay his hand upon him when he woke, +I whispered to him my thoughts. His answer, though somewhat comforting, +bade me wait until he could decide what was best. He took my hand in his +and called me "little girl,"--just think of it, I was five feet six +inches high, my face looked every day of forty that minute,--told me I +was too tired to plan, and he would attend to it all, adding, at the +close of his dear good talk: + +"His artist soul has nearly used up his physical strength. I feel there +has been great pressure on the nerves. If so there must be, according to +the course of nature, rapid changes up to a certain point, and then +there will be a thorough change slowly wrought out. Do not doubt my +skill, 'little girl,' he will come out all right; you and I have a sure +hold on his heart-strings." + +I could hardly wait to ask the question, "What do you mean by his artist +soul? what is he doing? and the doctor's eyes were looking in wonder at +me, and his lips parting with a word, when Hal's voice startled us with: + +"Emily, who is this?" and we turned to see him looking at Louis, whose +hand was on his head. + +I answered, "The dear friend Hal who brought me here." + +"What a beautiful hand he has. Oh! how it rests my tired, tired brain," +he said. "Water, Emily, sister, a little water." + +Dr. Selden gave him a glass, saying, "Drink all you like." + +"I am faint," said Hal. + +"Take this, my good fellow," and the doctor held a glass of cordial to +his lips. + +He was perfectly lucid now, and his voice natural. Dr. Selden, +anticipating questions from him, answered them all; told him I had come +to stay until he could go back to the old home with me, and of Mr. +Hanson's kind tender of hospitality to both Louis and myself, and +settled every vexing question for the patient, who looked a world of +thanks, and with "God be praised" on his lips passed again into +unconsciousness, with Louis' hand still passing over his head. I thought +then if Louis should ask me to jump into the crater of Vesuvius for him +I could do it out of sheer thankfulness; and I marvelled at him, the +child of wealth and ease, only a boy in years, here in this miserable +room a strong comforting man, seeming as perfectly at home as if always +here. Then the thought of the artist came back to me and I leaned +forward to ask Dr. Selden what it all meant. + +"Why, little girl, your brother is a sculptor born. He has sat up nights +working hard to accomplish his work, and has succeeded too well in his +art, for unconsciously he has worn his nervous power threadbare. You +will see one of his little pieces in Mr. Hanson's library when you go +down there. He has a friend here who--Ah!" said the doctor, turning at +that very moment toward the slowly-opening door and grasping the hand of +a tall stately man with dreamy eyes, who seemed to be looking the +question, "May I come in." + +"Yes, yes; come in, professor," whispered the doctor, and he introduced +me to Hal's teacher and friend, Wilmur Benton. Then offered him the only +remaining chair. + +The professor seated himself quietly, and raising his dreamy brown eyes +said, "Will he live?" + +The doctor smiled and bowed a positive "yes" as he said: + +"The crisis is past, care and patience now." + +At this moment Hal awoke, and this time more naturally than before. He +was quiet, looked upon us all with the clear light of reason in his +eyes, and would have talked if it had been allowed. He wanted us all +close to him, and smiled as he held tightly Louis' hand in one of his, +and with the other grasped that of Professor Benton, to lay both +together in a silent introduction. I think Hal felt that Louis had saved +his life, and he clung to his hand as a drowning man would to a life +preserver. One sweet full hour passed over us, and the doctor made +preparation to leave him, whispering to me: + +"The young man you brought to your brother is giving him wonderful +strength, and he must leave him only long enough to rest a little. The +crisis is past and the victory won." + +And here began and ended a wonderful lesson in life. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A QUESTION AND A PROBLEM. + + +The details of our stay in Chicago as a whole would be uninteresting, +and I would not weary the reader with them. Hal improved so rapidly that +on the fourth day after our arrival, he was carried in comparative +comfort to Mr. Hanson's residence, and placed for a few days in a +pleasant chamber to gather strength for our journey home. One little +incident I must tell you, connected with my introduction to Mr. Hanson's +family. We were seated at the supper table, talking of Hal, his sickness +and the cause of it, when Daisy, a five-year-old daughter, spoke +quickly, "Mamma, mamma, she looks just like the 'tree lady,' only she +don't have her sewing." + +I did not realize it as the child spoke, but when Mrs. Hanson chided the +little one, saying, "Daisy must learn not to tell all her little +thoughts," it all came so clearly, and I trembled visibly; yes, I guess +it was rather more than visible, since an unfortunate tilt in my chair, +an involuntary effort of trying to poise brain and body at once, upset +cup and saucer and plate, and before I knew it Mrs. Hanson had deluged +me with bay rum. They said I nearly fainted, but I realized nothing save +the ludicrous figure I presented, and I thought desparingly "Emily did +it." After supper I went to the library, and there it was--this piece of +work which Hal had done, representing me sitting under that old apple +tree, hemming and thinking. It was so perfectly done, even to the plain +ring on my middle finger, a wide old-fashioned ring which had been my +grandmother Minot's, and bore the initials "E.M." I could not speak when +I saw it, and if I could I should not have dared to for fear of some +unfortunate expression. I wished in my heart it had been any one else +but me. + +"If my face had been like Hal's," I thought, and I stood as one covered +with a mantle and bound by its heavy folds, until the gentle voice of +Mrs. Hanson roused me, saying: + +"Take a seat, Miss Minot, you are very tired." Yes, I was tired, though +I did not know it, and taking the chair she proffered, I covered my face +with both my hands and drew long breaths, as if to deliver myself from +the thoughts which overwhelmed me. Mrs. Hanson's womanly nature divined +my feelings, and she left me to myself, but after a while Daisy drew an +Ottoman near, and seating herself on it put her little hands in mine and +whispered: + +"I think you're awful pretty. Don't you?" + +I drew her into my lap and kissed her, and my dreams that night were +hope and peace. Louis was with me there, and although constantly +attentive to Hal, he gave no signs of weariness, and Hal would look into +his eyes, as he sat beside him, with a look of perfect devotion. I +thought so many times, as he lay back among his pillows looking at +Louis, he was mentally casting his features, and how nice it would be +when his deft hands moulded the clay with face and form like that of our +beautiful Louis Desmonde. What a joy to Clara's heart, and my own would +beat like a bird in its cage, thrilled with rapture at the prospect of +deliverance! Had he not saved the life of my darling brother, and in my +heart down deep, so deep I could bring no light of words upon the +thought, I felt that I loved them both. The tenth day (since our removal +to Mr. Hanson's) arrived, and then came our departure. I cried every +minute, and only because I was glad. Mr. and Mrs. Hanson and Louis +thought it due to over-exertion, and when I tried to explain I made an +unintelligible murmur, and only succeeded in bringing out one +thought--my gratitude to them and the hope that I might one day repay +it. Oh, how kind they were! Everything to make the transit easy for Hal +was cared for, even to the beautiful blanket Mrs. Hanson gave him, which +was doubly precious since her grandmother span the wool and colored and +wove it with her own hands. It was a happy party which left Chicago on +that memorable morning, and our journey was delightful. Father was +waiting for us at the old home station, and instead of the old stage we +rode home in an easy carry-all behind our own horses. Mother and Clara +met us with outstretched hands, and the latter, as she stood in the +doorway, looked a perfect picture. + +Hal was very tired, and for days after our return was threatened with a +relapse, which was averted only by the unvarying care and strength of +Louis. When this risk was over and he was fairly started on the road of +recovery, came the departure of our friend and his return to his +studies. Oh, how we dreaded it! Hal said afterward the thought of his +going sent a chill to his head. The evening before his departure we +walked over the hill through the pleasant path his mother and myself +always chose when we walked and talked together. I said: + +"Go with us, Clara," as we sauntered along the yard path toward the +gate, but Louis looked at her and she turned gaily from us with the +words: + +"I will look after the invalid." + +It seemed to me I was made of stone that evening, and we walked long +before the silence was broken. At last Louis stopped, and taking both my +hands looked into my heart (it seemed so to me) and said: + +"I leave to-morrow." + +My eyes grew moist, but only a sigh escaped my lips. I did not even say +I was sorry. + +Then we sat down on the mossy trunk of our favorite tree, and he said: + +"Are you sorry, Emily? Will you miss me, and will you write to me, and +will your dark eyes read the words I send to you?" + +Dumb, more dumb than before, I sighed and bowed my head, and again he +spoke, this time with that strange, terribly earnest look in his eyes I +had seen before. + +"Oh, Emily! my dear Emily! I am only a boy in years, but I love you with +the strength of a man. I have saved the life of your brother because I +loved his sister; and," he added in a low tone, "I love him too, but not +as I do the dark eyes of his sister. Oh! Emily, do you love me? Can you +and will you love me, and me only?" + +And he drew me to him almost fiercely, while I quivered in every nerve, +and answered: + +"Louis, do you know me well? Can you not understand my heart? How can I +help loving you?" + +He loosened his grasp about me, and as his arm fell from my waist, tears +fell at his feet. Oh, what a nature was his! Then turning again to +me--"Will you wear this?" and a ring of turquoise and pearls was slipped +on my finger, while in his hand he held a richly-carved shell comb. + +"This is for your midnight hair Emily, wear it always," and he placed it +among the coils of my hair. + +Silence followed for a little time, and then Louis with his soulful eyes +fixed on something afar off, spoke with great fervor of the life he +longed for. + +"Emily, you do not know me yet," he said. + +"I know you better than you know yourself, but I am to you a puzzle, and +oh, if I could skip the years that lie between to-day and the day when +you and I shall really understand each other! Perfect in peace that day +I know will come, but there are clouds between. My father willed that I +should have this education I am getting. I need it, I suppose, but I +have greater needs, and cannot tell you about them till I am free." + +"Two years--twenty-four months;" and his eyes fell, as he added +despairingly, "What a long time to wait." Then turning to me, "But you +will love me, you have said so?" + +I looked my thoughts, and he answered them. + +"Do not ever think so of me, I am only too sane, I have found my life +before the time." + +"Oh! Louis," I cried, and then he answered with the words, + +"My little mother knows it--she knows I love you. She knows my inmost +soul, and answers me with her pure eyes. But ah! her eyes have not the +light of yours; I want you to myself, to help me, and I will love you +all my life." + +I was amazed, and wondered why it was--this strange boy had been much in +society, and why should I, an unsophisticated, homely girl, bring such a +shower of feeling on myself. + +"Could it be real and would it last?" + +He comprehended my thought again and replied: + +"You are not homely; I see your soul in your eyes; you are younger than +I am; I have never seen your equal, and I know years will tell you I am +only true to my heart, and we will work together--ah! we will work for +something good, we will not be all for ourselves, _ma belle_," and on my +forehead he left a kiss that burned with the great thoughts of his +heart. + +I could only feel that I was in the presence of a wonderful power, and +at that moment he seemed a divinity. The moon came over the hill, and +with his arm in mine we turned our steps homeward, and Clara met us +half-way, and putting her hand fondly in Louis' said: + +"My boy is out under the moon. I feared he was lost." + +"My little mother!" and he gathered her under his wing, as it seemed, +and we were soon at the gate of home. Louis and his mother passed in at +the side door. As they did so, I fell back a step or two, turned my +steps toward the old apple tree, and there, sitting against its old +trunk, I talked aloud and cried and said: + +"Have I done wrong, or is it right?" + +Oh! what strange thoughts came over me as I sat growing more and more +convinced that Louis' talk to me was a boyish rhapsody, and yet I knew +then, as I had before known, that my own heart was touched by his +presence. If he had been older, I should have felt that heaven had +opened; as it was, I longed to be full of hope and to dream of days to +be, and still I feared and I said aloud, "I am afraid, oh, I am afraid!" +and at that moment Louis stood before me, and in quiet tones spoke as +one having authority: + +"Emily, you will get cold, you should not sit here." + +And as I rose the moonbeams fell on my tear-stained face, and he said as +if I were the merest child: + +"Why do you fear I shall ever be different toward you; but you need not +feel bound even though you have said you will love me." + +"Louis," I cried, "you are cruel; you trouble me; I can't tell how I +feel at all," and then realizing his last sentence I took off the ring, +but ere I could speak he put it back, saying: + +"No, no, Emily. I will wait one year, and then if you are afraid I will +go away; but keep the ring, for that is yours, and yours alone." + +I went up to my little room without bidding any one "good-night," and +thought those old three words right over, "Emily did it." I had covered +myself up because I dared not be known, and if, after all, it was right, +how good it would be to be loved by one capable of such wondrous love as +he possessed. + +I dreamed all night that I was alone and ill, and in the morning I +dreaded to meet Louis, but he gave no sign of any troubled thought, and +when the stage came was ready with his bright "good-bye." He folded his +little mother to his heart and held her there for a few seconds. When he +came to me his hand's grasp was firm and strong. His kiss and whisper +came together, "I will write." A moment later and he had gone. Clara +went to her own room, to cry a little softly as she afterward said, and +so the time wore on till the evening found us again all around the +table, and old grey Timothy, our cat, had the boldness to sit in Louis' +chair, which made Clara laugh through her tears. Joy and sorrow go hand +in hand, and while we felt his loss so keenly, his letters were a great +pleasure. + +Hal had his share as well as Clara and I, and mother used to read every +one of Hal's. It seemed strange to me to have anything to keep from +mother, and had she opened the door I would have told her all, but she +never asked me about Louis' letters, and until I overheard a +conversation between my father and her I was held in silence; then the +ice was broken, for father said: + +"I do not know what to do. It is possible that this bright young fellow +will play the part that so many do, and our innocent Emily be made the +sufferer. When he comes again we will try and manage to have her away. +She is a good girl and capable beside. Her life must not be blighted, +but we must also be careful not to hurt Clara's feelings. Clara is a +good little woman, and how we should miss her if she left us!" + +"Well," said my mother, "I do not feel alarmed about our Emily, but, of +course, it is better to take too much precaution than not enough," and +their conversation ended. + +When an opportunity presented I talked with mother, told her what I had +heard, and all that Louis had said to me, almost word for word, and the +result was her confidence. When our talk closed, she said in her own +impressive way: + +"I will trust you, my daughter, and only one thing more I have to say: +Let me urge upon you the importance of testing your own deepest, best +feelings in regard to this and every other important step--yes, and +unimportant ones as well. There is a monitor within that will prove an +unerring guide to us at all times. If we do not permit ourselves to be +hurried and driven into other than our own life channels we shall gather +from the current an impetus, which comes from the full tide of our +innate thought. Such thought develops an inner sense of truth and +fitness, which is a shield ever covering us, under any and all +circumstances. It holds us firmly poised, no matter which way the wind +may be, or from what quarter it strikes us." + +This thought I could not then appreciate fully, but I did what I could +toward it, and it was, in after years, even then, an anchor. My mother's +eyes were beautiful; they looked like wells, and when thoughts like +these rose to mingle with their light, they seemed twice as large and +full and deep as on ordinary occasions. I never wanted to disobey her, +and in those days we read through together the chapters in life's book +that opened every sunrise with something new. Our souls were blent as +one in a delightful unity, that savored more of Paradise than earth, and +now with Hal's returning strength, there was a triple pulsation of +mingled thought. Oh, Halbert, my blessed brother, no wonder my eyes are +brimming with tears of love at these dear recollections! Louis had sent +him a large box of material for doing his work, and Clara had insisted +on his having one of her new rooms for a studio, and everything was as +perfect as tasteful appointments could make it, even to the +dressing-gown she had made for him. + +She made this last with her own hands, of dark blue cashmere, corded +with a thread of gold. He had to wear it, too, for she said nothing +could be too nice to use. + +"Why, my dear Halbert," she added, "the grass is much nicer and you walk +on that." + +The rich rosy flush came slowly enough into his pale cheeks, but it +found them at last, and I do believe when we saw the work grow so fast +under his hands, we were insane with joy. To think our farmer boy who +followed the cows so meekly every night had grown to be a man and a +sculptor, throwing such soul into his work as to model almost breathing +figures! His first work was a duplicate of the piece at Mr. Hanson's, +and was made at Louis' especial request. His next work was a study in +itself. It was an original subject worthy of Hal's greatest efforts, a +representation of our good old friend Hildah Patten, known to all our +village as "Aunt Hildy." We called her our dependence, for she was an +ever-present help in time of need; handy at everything and wasteful of +nothing. Her old green camlet cloak (which was cut from her +grandfather's, I guess) with the ample hood that covered her face and +shoulders, was a welcome sight to me, whenever at our call for aid she +came across lots. She lived alone and in her secluded woodland home led +a quiet and happy life; she was never idle, but always doing for others. +Few really understood her, but she was not only a marvel of truth but +possessed original thought, in days when so little time was given in our +country to anything save the struggle for a living. It is only a few +years since Aunt Hildy was laid away from our sight. I often think of +her now, and I have in my possession the statuette Hal made, which shows +camlet cloak, herb-bags and all. I desire you to know her somewhat, +since her visits were frequent and our plans were all known to her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WILMUR BENTON. + + +The fall is a busy time in a farmer's household--with the gathering of +grain, clearing up of fields, and making all due preparations for the +coming winter; and it is beautiful also. This year, however, the many +colored leaves had sought the ground unnoticed by me; for my days had +been absorbed in thought and, instead of looking at things about me, if +I had a spare moment I wandered in the realms of feeling. + +November had come to us with Louis' departure, and the weeks between his +coming and going seemed, as I looked back, like a few hours only, +crowded together as a day before me with the strange events, and +stranger thoughts, whose existence from that time onward has forced me +to own their supremacy and power. Hal's artist friend, Professor Benton, +was coming to see him--and I wished it were May instead of November, for +it seemed to me the outer attractions of our country home were much +greater than the inner, and I could not see how he was to be +entertained. Clara's side (as we called the four rooms she had added) +would be the only attraction, and since Hal was domiciled there, that +would be the right place. Many paintings adorned the walls, and to me +there was such a contrast between our middle room and its belongings, +and the sunny chamber occupied by Hal, that whenever I looked on the +massively-framed pictures there, they seemed out of place. Clara was +fond of having them in sight, and labored hard to have her loves ours. +Every other evening we were forced to occupy that side of the house and +I wonder, as I look back, that my father could have been so obedient to +her wishes. She would sit on an ottoman between him and my mother and +often with her head resting against the arm of his chair, talking with +us of our farm, the plans for winter, and the fences to be built with +the coming spring; and she was never satisfied unless allowed to be +really one of us. The building she had done was accredited to my father, +for she would not have it otherwise, and when his spirit of independence +prompted him to refuse her board-money afterward, she looked at him with +tears in her eyes and said: + +"Why must I be repelled, Mr. Minot? Please let me stay here always. I +have no comfort if I have no one to be happy with, and you must take +this from me." + +She was no trouble, and such a small eater that she must have paid us +four times over for all she had. Father thought at first her impulsive +gifts would be of short duration, but months had revealed her to us, and +we realized that she was a marvel of goodness. Not only interesting +herself in us but in others. Weekly visits were made by her to the poor +in our parish, and blessings fell on her head in prayers rising from the +lips of her grateful friends. The semi-monthly sewing circle she caused +to be appointed at our house (her side), and with her own hands made +all the edibles necessary on every occasion. She shrank from making +calls upon those who were not in need of her services, and never went +willingly to any public gathering. I never knew why, but she was +morbidly sensitive on this point. Once she was over-persuaded, and went +to an old-fashioned quilting party with mother, and she came home in a +fainting condition, and we worked over her until after midnight. + +"I am so cold here," she said, placing her hand on her heart--"I will +not go out any more, Mrs. Minot; it hurts me." + +We never afterward urged her, nor explained her suffering to the friends +who inquired. She exacted a promise to that effect. + +What a strange being our lovely Clara was! She grew to our hearts as ivy +to the oak, and the tendrils of her nature entwined us, creeping a +little nearer daily, until the doors of our hearts were covered with +their growing beauty. I should be writing all about her, and not bring +myself into my story at all, but the promise I made you must be +fulfilled. At some other time I may write out for you the life and work +of this beautiful friend. My own experience seems to me only a +background against which her picture ought to rest. I have been +rambling, for you remember I began to tell you about the coming of Hal's +artist friend from Chicago. I believe it was the fifteenth of November +when he came, and his presence was not a burden as I feared, for he +found and filled a place held in reserve for him, and all united with me +in saying: "What a splendid man he is!" + +Brother Ben, who was now at an interesting age, called him "a man to +study," and he seemed to be fascinated by him. His eyes followed every +motion, and his ear was keenly alive to every expression of thought. I +sometimes thought Hal wished Ben did not like him as well, for he was +constantly availing himself of his society. Some work fortunately had to +be done, else Hal would have been very much troubled to gain an +audience. Clara did not like the artist quite as well as I did, though +she said with the rest, "What a splendid man!" and betrayed by no word +or act any disregard for his feelings, still I intuitively felt a +something she did not say; and when I told her he had made an +arrangement to stay all winter, she clasped her white hands together +tightly, and between two breaths a sigh came fluttering from her lips, +while tears gathered in the blue of her eyes, as the white lids fell to +cover what she would not have me notice. Although a pain and wonder +filled my heart for a moment, I knew if Clara wished me to divine her +feelings she would explain herself, and her silence left me to my own +conjectures. I said to myself "Some thought of the past has come over +her," for I could not see how the stay of Wilmur Benton could affect her +happiness. He treated her with great deference and seemed to realize +with us that she had a rare organization. His stay was a matter of great +interest with Hal, as Hal was to gain from him the instruction he +needed, and they expected to get much enjoyment from working together. +Louis would be with us through the holidays, and Mr. Benton would, I +knew, enjoy that, for he insisted that it was the magic of his hand that +had saved Hal's life, and he looked on him as a real blessing. The two +artist souls blended as one, and drank daily deep draughts from the +fountain of an inspiring genius, and as I watched the work grow under +their hands, and the plastic and senseless clay become a fair statue, +lacking nothing save breath and motion to reveal an entity, I questioned +if the power was really theirs, or if their hands had touched a secret +spring and were guided outside of themselves. It really never seemed +like exertion, and to sense this wondrous art was to me the asking of +questions deeper than any among us could answer. + +Hal's statue of dear Aunt Hildy was copied, and improved also by Mr. +Benton, who considered it a masterpiece, and the respect we bore our +friend was not lessened, even though there were those among us who might +speculate as to the motive that prompted it. + +We never called her funny, but original, and good as gold. Our family +numbered now seven people, and with the farm work in addition to the +daily preparation of meals, the clearing up and upsetting again of +things, there were many steps to take, and Aunt Hildy was installed as +our help in need. + +These were the days of help--not servants--when honest toil was well +appreciated by sensible people, and no hurried or half-done work fell +from their hands, but the steady doing resulted in answering the daily +demands. + +"It's a bunch of work to do; it is, indeed, Mrs. Minot," said Aunt +Hildy. + +"But we'll master it." + +"I ain't never going to be driven by work, nor aristocracy neither. It's +a creepin' in on us, though, like the snake in the garden, just to make +folks think they can get more comfort out of fixin's than they can out +of the good old truths. I can't be fed on chaff; no, I can't." + +And her sleeves would go up to her elbows, and she would march through +work like a mower through a field. + +Her coming gave me a chance to do some sewing, and with Clara's help +about cutting (and she sewed with me), the needed spring and summer +apparel and house linen were fashioned and made ready for use. The days +passed pleasantly to us all, and though I had watched Clara closely, she +betrayed neither by word nor sign anything that savored of dislike +toward Professor Benton; and still, sometimes, I felt that unexplainable +something that once in a while tried as it were to shape itself before +me, and as often vanished in mist. We had long evenings, and many new +topics were introduced and discussed. I had access to Clara's large and +well selected library, and I improved every opportunity to inform myself +on doubtful subjects. Sometimes I despaired of knowing anything new, and +again my brain would seem clearer, and would take in the new thoughts +with keen perception. When, however, we came to talk upon these same +subjects, I sat nearly dumb; I could summon no thoughts nor words to +frame them. Even this stupidity had its advantage, for Mr. Benton (Hal +called him Will) was a good talker, and had, as all talkers have, a +great respect for a good listener, and he often said to me: + +"You have a heart to appreciate rare truths, Miss Minot." + +Clara was gifted in conversation, but did not always express her +sentiments with great freedom. + +If we touched on things nearest her heart, and I believe the doing of +good each to the other was her highest thought, she was at home, and her +blue eyes would glow with light, as in her own sweet way she talked long +and earnestly. I shall never forget the first time Mr. Benton noticed +this point in her organization. The newsmonger of our town had been to +see us, had spent the afternoon and taken tea, and while it was +amusement for me to hear her gossip incessantly about this thing and +that, this person and the other, Clara was greatly annoyed by it. It +caused a righteous indignation to rise within her, and when after the +visit we were seated by the antique centre table in her sitting-room, +the conversation turned upon the peculiarities of this scandal-loving +Jane North. + +Clara expressed herself freely on the subject of small talk, as she +termed scandal. Her eyes dilated, her small hands were folded tightly, +and when she closed it was with this last feeling sentence: + +"I can only say, 'Father, forgive them, they know not what they do,' who +scatter the theme of contention where roses should appear, and in +tearing down the habitation of their neighbors lose also their own; for +they who have respect for themselves will have respect for their +neighbors. May we yet live to understand the meaning of the words, 'Love +ye one another.' When this shall be, oh, my more than friends, when this +shall be, we shall know each other, even as we are known! No secret +blight shall cover any life, no worm of regret gnaw at the tree of our +unfolding lives! We shall all be as a unit, and our Father who seeth us +in secret shall then reward us openly! Yea, more, for are not we +ourselves capable of holding communion with this part of God within us? +We know our souls are with us to-day, and it is only because the roots +of thought are covered, and the feet of envy, hatred and malice are +pressing, the hard soil against them, that the tendrils of our loving +natures are never asked to climb, and the eternal ivy of our great love +reaches not the windows of expressed thought, else our hands would be +made strong to do daily that which is found to do with all our might." + +Her last beautiful utterance finished, she closed her eyes as if covered +with the mantle of her holy thoughts, and we all sat in a breathless +silence. Aunt Hildy who sat in the corner (by preference) stirred not a +muscle from the beginning to the close of her talk, and Mr. Benton +looked first in wonder then in admiration, and when our silence was +broken by a fervent "Amen" from Aunt Hildy, he added: + +"'Even so let it be.' Those thoughts are beautiful." + +Clara looked at him with an almost reproachful glance, the import of +which I could not understand. + +I was not sensitive like Clara; perhaps intuitive would express it +better. She seemed to understand every one's nature on the first +meeting, and I had marvelled many tunes at her accuracy in reading +character. + +She told me that her heart went out to Aunt Hildy at their first +meeting, and I felt convinced now there was something about this new +friend that no one save herself could detect, and whether it had shape +with her or not was a question. + +Three weeks of Mr. Benton's stay had passed when this incident occurred, +and from that hour there was a marked change in his manner toward her. +I could see, ignorant as I was of the phases of life, how he was +attracted to her. This glimpse of her wondrous nature had opened his +eyes, and perhaps touched his heart. His age must be about hers, I +thought, and how strange if it should be that he loved her. But here I +run into a mist where nothing was plain. Days will tell the story, I +thought, and we were sure of days and changes while life lasted. It +became plain to me after a little that Clara felt the change in his +manner toward her, and in every quiet move of hers I detected the +disposition on her part to repel any advances. She gave him no +opportunity to be with her alone, and if by chance this happened, her +sweet voice would call "Emily, come in this way, we are lonely without +you," and her eyes would turn on me when I entered with a sort of +wistful glance. It always reminded me of a child looking confidently +into the eyes of its mother, expecting the help it was sure to find. I +hardly enjoyed this, for I knew Mr. Benton thought me old enough to +discern a little, and he must have believed us to be in league together, +whereas no word had passed between us on the subject until just before +Christmas, when Louis was expected. + +Clara and I were sitting busily sewing and talking of the coming of "her +dear boy," when she let her sewing fall and sat as in thought a few +moments before she spoke. + +"Emily (and she spoke slowly and with earnestness. I felt frightened for +her cheek grew white as the words fell from her lips), when Louis comes +keep close to me all the time, will you? Oh! I know you will, and since +I ask such a favor, it is only right I should tell you all about it. I +know, for I feel it in here (and she laid her hand on her head), that +Professor Benton desires to talk to me. He must not be allowed to, +Emily, for if he does it will hurt me so much. I will tell you why, and +I know you will tell it to no one." + +I looked an assent and she continued: + +"He thinks that he might like me so well that he would wish me near him +for ever. But he does not know that I cannot let him say this to me. It +would be hard to make him understand me; he never could. And then if he +should know me very well, it would be all wrong. I love my Louis Robert, +and he is waiting on the hills for me. Yes, my dear Emily, he waits for +me there. Did he not say so when he died, and will he not come for me +some day when I shall be a little more weary, and this beating heart +grows colder? He says he will and I am always with him in my thoughts. +It almost hurts me to live at all. Can you see, Emily, can you know how +it is because I need you all _so_ much that I must stay with you? +Professor Benton has a good heart, but it feels cold to me. His art +obscures from him all else; he can love no one as he loves a picture. +Now you will promise me, no not with words--I would only feel your arm +around me, and with my hand in yours feel you are my trusted one--my +soul friend and my great help." + +Silence was ill suited to my feelings at that moment. I gathered her +gentle form to me, and held her tight while those ever ready tears of +sympathy filled my eyes full, and I spoke honestly when I said: + +"I don't care a fig for Mr. Benton, and if he troubles you I will send +him back to Chicago, and I wish he had never come at all." + +"Oh! oh! do not say it; I shall fear to have you know my heart, it makes +you rebellious. It is well that he came, as your brother needs him, and +you do wrong to say such words. Wait, Emily, keep quiet, you are like a +wind when your thoughts are stirred, and time, my love, will help you to +make your hand strong, and your heart also. It is on a full tide and +with a steady wind that vessels find the sea, while changeful blasts +will shipwreck them, and then cast their wrecks upon the shore. And so +it is with mortals; we have to keep saying, wait! while we pray to be +guided aright." + +"I am always running off the track, Clara, I know; teach me to know +myself and let me help you; you are so different; I shall never be like +you," I said. + +"And you do not wish to be, I hope," was her reply. + +"I would like more of your quiet spirit, but that belongs to you, and if +I wait and work hard to do it, I shall always be upsetting what I wish +to do, and plaguing others instead of helping--" Mother came in and our +talk was at an end. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +FEARS AND HOPES. + + +Many thoughts filled my mind after what Clara had said, and I thought +much of her beautiful faith as to her husband and his waiting for her; +of her trust in his coming, and of the reality with which came into her +existence this wonderful future that waits for us all if (and sometimes +this little conjunction assumed wonderful proportions) immortality +really be ours. My heart told me we were to live, and in my higher +thoughts I could sometimes see the light that flooded those old hills +near our home, reaching far on to where all those of our household were +waiting. I never at these times could think of our beloved friends, my +blessed grandmother, of whom we did not even possess a daguerreotype, as +an angelic and unearthly something with wings, but rather as a real +being, whose face I should recognize, whose hands should touch my own, +while her lips would move, and in her dear old way she would say "Come +in, Emily," just as she used to when I went as a child to her door, and +looked in at her, as she lay on her bed, partly paralyzed. Her hair was +white with the cares of seventy-four winters, and her eyes filled then +with such a pleasant light. She had lived with us, this dear Grandma +Northrop, for years. Hal had always been her special charge; she called +him her boy, and up to the last month of her life mended his stockings +first; she would go to the door and watch him go for the cows, and when +he came back over the west meadows, would say with admiration: + +"That boy is worth a dozen such as Ben Davis; he'll do something great +before he dies." + +My mother spoke often of her, and also recalled her saying, "I hope +angels can see men," meaning that she could not bear the thought of +leaving Hal. + +I was only five years old when she left us, still her memory was sacred +to me, and through the summer days I covered her grave with everlasting +flowers and daisies. I remembered her as genial, though somewhat +peculiar in her ways; she had a warm appreciation of wit, and was ever +ready with answers. Mother remembered and told me so many of her happy +sayings that it kept her memory fresh among us all, and if angels could +both see and hear men, she must have felt grateful that we remembered +her with such pleasure. I treasured the hoop ear-rings which she wore, +and which bore her initials, "E.L.N." Her name was Elizabeth, but she +was called by all "Betsey." To Hal she had left two silver spoons and +her snuff-box. He had it among his little treasures, and kept the same +bean in it that was there when she died. I wished a thousand times and +more that my name might be Elizabeth, but Emily was given me by a sister +of father's who desired me to be her namesake, and if I had been more +like her in my young years I should never have been likened to a "fierce +wind," as Clara so truly termed me. This Aunt Emily had gone to her +heavenly home, as had many of my mother's family. She was one of eleven +children, and at this date only one brother, Peter, and a sister, Phebe, +were living. Mother had a beautiful sister, Sallie, who died young, and +whom I loved to hear about. She painted her picture in words for me, and +I could see her dark blue eyes, her brown hair that looked like satin, +and her pink cheeks, almost as if I had really seen and known her. And +when this heaven, that sometimes seemed so like far off mist, grew +nearer, I imagined the meeting of them all, and enjoyed the pleasant +picture which lay before my mind's eye like a waiting promise of whose +fulfillment I felt sure. Clara and Aunt Hildy had long conversations on +these subjects, and Aunt Hildy said to me when speaking of these talks: + +"Oh! I love her white soul, Emily; she allus brings heaven right down to +airth, and even when she don't talk I feel so kind of blessed when I sit +near her. Few such folks are let to live, and somehow I'm almost +convinced she can't stay long," and the corner of her blue-checked apron +would touch her humid eyes, as she turned again to her work. + +Work was a matter of principle with her, and to neglect one duty +unnecessarily, no light offense. She was as true to her highest +conviction of right as the needle to the pole, and held the truth close +to her heart--so close that all her outer life was in correspondence +with her interior perceptions. Truly her light was not under a bushel. + +I hoped her fear of Clara's death would not soon be realized, for it did +not seem as if we could bear to lose her presence. Never in any way +could she intrude herself, for her nature moved her in perpetual lines, +whose shadow never fell on the path of another. I felt sorry that she +should be troubled, and I fear my dark eyes now and then shot telling +glances at Mr. Benton. + +The more she tried, even in her graceful way, to repel his advances, the +more determined he was to gain access to her heart. In this I could +detect the selfish part of his nature, and while I could not blame him +for loving her, I knew that my love for her was so great that I would +not knowingly give her any pain, and it seemed to me his love must be +less than it should be, for he could not fail to know it troubled her +and should have desisted. In a few days after our conversation Louis +came. + +Clara had, since she realized Mr. Benton's feelings toward her, been +very careful in the selection of her wearing apparel, choosing for her +daily use the plainest dresses. But on the day of Louis' arrival she +said to me, as we went up stairs after dinner was cleared away: + +"Emily, will you put on the dress that becomes you so well?" It was a +garnet merino she alluded to, a gift from herself. + +"We should make a pleasant picture for Louis when he comes; the dear boy +loves to see his little mother in blue, and our royal Emily in becoming +colors." + +"Of course I will," I said, and as I fastened the lace collar, whose +pattern was roses and leaves, with the pin she gave me, and looked in my +little glass, I thought what a poor resemblance to royalty I bore, and +laughed at the appellation. + +Supper was ready, but we waited for the stage, and when it came we were +all at the door. Hal met Louis first and then came Mr. Benton; Clara +kept drawing me back with her, and he was obliged to greet mother and +father and Aunt Hildy also, ere we were visible. + +"Little mother! blessed little mother!" and he held her close, kissing +her with passionate fondness, then turning to me he took both my hands +and whispered softly: + +"Last but not least," and we followed the rest to the supper table. + +Mr. Benton was more than polite during the meal, and afterward delighted +Louis with showing him an unfinished portrait of Clara, which he had +commenced painting on canvas. + +This information was conveyed to me at the first favorable opportunity, +and when Louis enjoined secrecy upon me, he expressed great pleasure +with Mr. Benton, and said: + +"Oh! Miss Emily. Little mother is so beautiful; she is always a picture. +When the artist adds to the charming portrait the dress and the little +pearls she wore to receive me, it will be so real I shall want to ask it +to speak to me, and when she leaves me I can look at it, and in my heart +hear her say 'Louis my dear boy.' You love her very much, do you not, +Emily?" + +"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "do not talk so, everybody says she is too good +and beautiful to live, and it is a thought too bitter, I cannot bear +it." + +He turned the conversation into another channel, and talked so strongly +about his great desire to master this art of painting, while I wondered +to myself how it had happened that these hearts were gathered to our +own and had become members of our household, coming, as they did, like +rare exotics, to live and blossom among us plain hollyhocks and +dandelions. Hal I could liken to a rare flower, but then he was only one +among our number, and in all our family and friends there were none +possessing the gifts of these two souls which had come to us so +strangely. + +Aunt Hildy said, "The ways of life are past all comprehending." I +thought so too. Christmas came on Sunday in this year of our Lord +eighteen-hundred-and-forty-two, and for this I rejoiced and was glad. +When it came on a week-day, it seemed like Sunday, and although now and +then we had some really interesting sermons, there was not enough to +fill two sabbaths coming so near together, and it gave me a restless +sort of feeling, especially so, when I knew how quiet and solemn my +father used to be all day, and also his great desire that we should +imitate him. + +I had been a member of our old church three years, and while I desired +to live a Christian life, I could never feel that a long face, and +solemnly pronounced words made any difference in my real life. Father +did not believe any more in long faces than I did, still, I think from +fear of neglecting any part of his duty, he maintained a serious +demeanor from the break of our Sabbath days to their close. He had an +unusually beautiful way of asking a blessing that always gave me a happy +feeling. He merely said in a pleasant way, and with open eyes: "We +should be very thankful for this meal; may we have wisdom to prepare no +unsavory dishes, and strength to earn for ourselves, and others if +necessary, the bread we daily need." This gave us a thought (that never +grew old with me) of the needs of our neighbor, and also seemed so +rational, and fitted our needs so perfectly. Aunt Hildy called it a +common-sense blessing. I remember well how she spoke of it, in contrast +with Deacon Grover's long-drawn-out table prayers, saying with emphasis; +"The man, if he is a deacon, has a right to grow better, and we know he +asks God to bless things cattle couldn't eat." + +Christmas, we all went to church, and although it was more than a mile, +aunt Hildy refused to ride. + +"Let me walk as long as I can, time enough to ride by and by, and I'm +only fifty-eight years old, Mr. Minot," she said. + +It was useless to urge her, and she came into church a few minutes later +than we did, and sat in her own pew next ours. This church was an +old-time affair, having been built by the early settlers. It had, as all +those old churches had, square pews, a stove in its central portion with +huge arms of pipe that stretched embracingly in all ways; and its pulpit +was so high that I prevailed on father to sit back from the centre as +far as we could and be comfortably warm, for it was breaking ones' neck +to look at the minister, and the sermon was half lost if you could not +see the play of his features. Our worship was of the Presbyterian order, +and our present pastor a worthy man. This was all the church that +belonged to us really. In the village which nestled in the valley two +and a half miles south-west of us, like a child in the lap of its +mother, there were three churches, Baptist, Methodist, and +Presbyterian, and many who attended our old church would have liked +better to go to one of those, and at times did so, but it was quite a +ride in winter, and for this reason our church was better filled at this +season than in the summer days. + +A new branch of belief had latterly developed itself somewhat in our +neighborhood, and this embraced the thought of universal salvation. +There had been meetings held at the houses of some of our friends, and +once or twice mother and myself had attended. + +The sermon on this Christmas day did me no good, for our minister chose +for his subject false doctrines, and the pointed allusions and +personalities savored greatly of a spirit that was not calculated to +remind us of the humble Nazarene and his lowly spirit. + +Tearing the roof down over our heads would not give one an idea of a +comfortable home; and surely charity's mantle should at least cover the +sins of ignorance, and that certainly was the hardest verdict we could +render against those of our number who had become interested in these +ideas, for that they were good and true people appeared from their +doctrines. The only difference was this: That the love of God was so +great for his children that not one of them would be lost or cast into +the terrible fires, which, according to our old belief, burned for the +guilty through endless time. And now as I reflect I can surely see it +was more through fear of being thus cast off, and not because I could +put my hand on anything so terribly wicked in myself or my acts, that I +early desired and had communication with the church. Somehow I felt more +secure to know I was approved of by men, and my name enrolled on the +church list. As I grew older this was a troublesome thought that now and +then, asked for a hearing. As we came out of church, Deacon Grover with +his small black eyes peering into aunt Hildy's face, said to her: + +"Smart sermon; good talk, Miss Patten, how did you enjoy it?" + +"Well as I could," and I nearly laughed in his face, although I knew he +did not realize what she meant. She never liked fiery sermons, as she +called them, and believed that the only way to heap coals of fire on the +head of the unrighteous, was by living so rightly as to make them +ashamed of their ways and do better. Mr. Benton and Louis walked with +Ben and aunt Hildy, and our ride home was a nearly silent one. I knew my +father had not been any more edified than myself, but it was not his way +to talk of it, and not until the next evening was the subject mentioned. +The fire of reproof was begun by your humble servant, and I said many +things which were unnecessary, and expressed my determination to +investigate the new doctrine. If father had been with us I should have +spoken less freely, and as it was I shocked my mother and almost myself, +so severely did I denounce the minister. Louis sat in silence, also his +mother, but aunt Hildy spoke as follows, after waiting a few moments to +see if any one else had pent up wrath to give vent to: + +"Well, as the youngest has spoke, I suppose I may express my feelin's, +and I must say I never heerd a worse sermon. I have been a steddy +meetin-goer for forty years, and have tried to hold a peaceful spirit +that would be jest such as the Master would recommend if he was among +us; but I believe we all allow we are sinners more or less, and after +all do daily the things we should not do. Still if anybody wanted my +help, I should hate to have 'em chase me with a broomstick, for I +couldn't do a thing for 'em if they did; and if we think anybody is +going into a ditch of a wrong idee, we'd better not scare 'em to death +hollerin at 'em, it would be apt to send 'em in head first, while if we +could kinder creep along behind, and speak a few words kindly, they +would turn round, and we could tell 'em of their danger." Her similes +were original, and we involuntarily smiled an approval of her sentiment, +when Mr. Benton said: + +"Do you not think the fear of hell helps to hold people in the right +path sometimes, Mrs. Patten?" Aunt Hildy looked at him with a wondrous +light in her eyes, as she answered: + +"_No, sir_, I don't; my Bible says perfect love casteth out fear. The +woman that's afraid of her husband can't love him if she dies for it, +and the boy who hates his father through fear, can't muster up respect +enough to love him if he tries." And her knitting needles clicked again +as if to say, "that's the truth." + +A few moments and then Clara spoke (Aunt Hildy stopped knitting the +moment she began, as if expecting a treat). "We are taught," she said, +"that our Father loves us; that he rejoices with great joy in the return +of a prodigal to his fold. The truth that he loves us better than we can +ever love each other here, that none of us shall ask for bread and +receive a stone, neither fish and receive a serpent, was spoken to us +from the ages past. Christ came into the world as the bearer of all +essential truths. His enemies, the Jews, knew he told the truth and +hastened to crucify him, saying in plain words--'If he live, all men +will believe on him, crucify him, crucify him,' and it was done, but he +left behind him the great token of his love, and he hath said, +'Whosoever believeth on me, even though he were dead yet shall he live,' +etc. If we can understand him, he means us all, every child of our +Father, and are we not all his? The law of Moses was buried when the law +of Christ was given, which is the law of our omnipotent Father. I am +ready," and down her cheeks tears coursed their way; "I do so want to +know more of this beautiful faith, for it has ever been my own; I say to +you to-night and I have already said it to my heavenly Father, I will +yield my life, if I can help the poor, tired hearts, the needy souls of +men, to embrace this glorious truth, 'Love ye one another.'" Tears +filled the eyes of all save those of Wilmur Benton, who sat as if +covered with astonishment, and I could see that he was puzzled; and if +he spoke his thought might have said, "What manner of woman is this, and +how can I touch the strings of her heart." + +Clara's eyes grew large and full of light as she continued: + +"I care not for the name, for what manner of difference can that +make--we are to be known and know each other by and by; we can and +should have our heaven below; we can and should have love for one and +all; and while my loyal friend Emily speaks harshly of the minister, +who, fearing a new path before some of his people, feels it his duty to +not only call, but drive them back into the square pen of the old ideas; +yet we must not condemn him, neither measure his heart exactly by the +words of his text or sermon. The circumference of the tree is more than +three times its diameter, and yet we know the width of the board we use +is found in the diameter. Words are a circumference which encircle the +breadth of a diameter, and we may feel and know that this man, standing +as he does within the bounds of a belief whose main foundation embraces +the two thoughts, heaven and misery, cannot, if he believes this to be +true, do less than urge it upon us all. But if we stop and think, we can +say, perhaps the heart of this religious tree he represents may not be +sound, and when the axe of advancing ideas trims its branches and buries +its blade within its trunk, we shall, as I believe, have proof of this; +and then, perhaps his eyes will turn with ours to the outstretched arms +of a noble oak, whose leaves are green, whose heart is sound, and at +whose base we all may gather, against whose sides we all may rest. It +has waited long, and grown in our father's forest until at last its +giant dimensions have been apparent. The leaves of its upper branches +caught the eye of a ranger on truth's high mountain, and the underbrush +must now be cut away to make a path for our feet. Let the winds +annihilate the dogmas of a creed, let our hearts open to all good +thoughts, and let this one also be as the anchor of our souls, this +glorious thought of our Father's love, this binding together of his +children. Patience and work both are needed: will not my dear boy help +me? I know he will, and our Emily; God give to me the help I need from +these two young hearts," and she held out her hands to us. + +I said "Oh, Clara!" and sank on the floor beside her, put my head in her +lap, and let the tears fall as they would, unmindful of all else save my +dear, beautiful friend. Louis sat on the other side of her with his arm +around her waist, and her head lay on his shoulder. The curtain of the +evening slowly fell, and in slumbers I drew her thoughts close to my +heart, Aunt Hildy's "God help us" floating like music through my +dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE NEW FAITH. + + +"Emily will help me!" Oh, how those words haunted me! I would help her; +yes, if I could, but when should I ever stop making blunders, when +should I lose the impetuous nature that drove me too often on the beach +of thought, with shipwrecked sentences that fell far short of my +thought, and expressed nothing of my real self. Why was it, as I grew +older, I came to realize, that if I had been born a little later, it +would have been easier? I was standing on tip-toe trying in vain to +touch that which lay beyond my reach; of course I must be constantly +falling, and the security of growth I could not then wait for. I must +keep reaching and falling, covering myself with disappointments, while +in the hearts if not on the lips of those about me must rest the same +old words, "Emily did it." + +Clara says I can do something, and having grown to feel that her words +were almost prophecy, I felt sure there was something ahead, and +repeated again and again, "Emily will do it." Mr. Benton was looking +beyond his depth, and still did not hesitate to try and swim across the +difficult waters that lay between himself and Clara, and before Louis +left us, something occurred which I must tell about. I had been called +over the hill on an errand, was obliged to go alone, and was then +detained somewhat, and when I came back, Louis met me, and taking my +arm, said: + +"Walk slowly, I have something I must say." + +I thought of Clara at once, and it was a true impression, for he said: + +"My little mother is in trouble; I have heard what I would never know if +I could avoid it--Professor Benton has been telling her that he loves +her. He has forced this upon her, I know, for these are his words to +which I unwillingly listened: 'Why, Mrs. Desmonde, do you shun me, why +turn you eyes whenever they meet my own, why call Miss Minot to your +side when an opportunity presents for us to be alone together? I cannot +be baffled in my love for you; no woman has ever before touched the +secret spring of my heart, no voice has ever reached my soul--yours is +music to me; and, Mrs. Desmonde, I need great love and sympathy; I am +not all I want to be; my lot in life has been in some respects very hard +to bear; I never knew my mother's love, and when old enough to desire +the companionship man needs, I had an experience which killed the flower +of my affection--I thought its roots were as dead as its leaves, until I +met you. Oh! Mrs. Desmonde, do you not, can you not return this feeling? +My life is in your hands.' It was hard for my little mother, and I stood +riveted to the spot, Emily, expecting to be obliged to enter and catch +her fainting form, for I knew in my heart each word was a thorn, but +here is her reply:" + +"Professor Benton, I had hoped to be spared this pain, I have avoided +you, because I could do no other way. I am so sorry! I can never, never +love you as you desire! I have a husband--my Louis Robert waits for me +in heaven, and he is my constant guide here. He will always be near me +while I tarry, and I have no love to give you in return for yours. I can +be your good friend always, I can help you as one mortal helps another. +I can call you a brother, and I can be your sister; but do not dream +falsely. I shall not learn to love you; my heart is full, and it is +through no fault of mine that you have raised false hopes in your bosom, +but I am very sorry--more sorry than I can tell you." + +"Is that all, and is it final?" I heard him say. + +"It is all that I can ever say," she said. + +"I drew back from the door, and, passing through your middle room, came +into my own, in time to see Professor Benton step into Halbert's studio. +I entered then the room where little mother sat, and held her in my arm +awhile, saying no word to her of what I had heard. She was not +exhausted, and after a little time I left her to come and meet you. Tell +me, Emily, if you know about it--has she said anything to you?" + +Of course I told him all, and then added her, "'Say no word to Louis,' +but under these circumstances she could not blame me, could she, Louis?" + +"No, no, Emily," he replied, "but what can we do?" + +"I do not know," I said, and he added: + +"Do you like Professor Benton?" + +"I cannot see anything in him to like very much, Louis," I replied; +"when I met him in Hal's sick-room, he seemed really beautiful. His eyes +looked so large and dreamy, and he had such sympathy for Hal, and I +like him now, for that, but otherwise he jars me so I say all sorts of +uncomfortable things, and his talk always irritates me. No, I could not +imagine your mother loving him, for she is so much better than I am, and +I could never love him in the world." + +Louis' hold on my arm tightened, and he said: + +"Ah! Miss Emily, you are beginning to know yourself, you are learning to +understand others, and I am glad," and to his eyes came again that +earnest look, "for I long to be known by you; I have brought you a +Christmas present, and the New Year is at hand before I give it to +you--wear this in the dark, until your heart says you love me, then let +the light fall on it." + +He put a box in my hand, and when I opened it in my own room I found a +small and finely linked chain of gold, and attached to it a locket +holding Louis' picture. One side was inlaid with blue enamel in a spray +of flowers, and on the other the name "Emily." My heart told me that I +did love Louis, and then there came so many changeful thoughts, that I +felt myself held back, and could not express myself to Louis. + +This evening was spent in our middle room, and Mr. Benton, being obliged +to write letters, was not with us. Of this I was glad, for it gave +relief to the three who were cognizant of what had passed. The subject +of universal salvation was again brought before us, and this time my +mother expressed herself greatly in favor of giving the new thoughts a +hearing, and to my utter astonishment and pleasure, my father proposed +going sometime to hear the Reverend Hosea Ballou, who was then +preaching over his society in Boston, and came sometimes to preach for +the few in a town lying to the north and east of us. There were no +houses of worship dedicated to the Universalists nearer than the one I +speak of, and though it was a ride of ten miles, that was nothing for a +span of good horses. + +"When can we go?" rose to my lips quickly. + +"Are you also desirous of hearing him, Emily?" + +"Oh, father!" I said, "I want something beside the fire of torment to +think of. You know the Bible says, 'He that is guilty in one point, is +guilty of the whole.' If that is true, father, I am not safe; but if +these new thoughts are truths, I am; and can you blame me if I want to +know about it. I am afraid I knew very little of what I needed when I +was united to our church." + +"It is not singular, Emily," my father said, "and I desire only to help +you, if you really want to know. We need not fear to investigate, for if +the doctrines are erroneous, they are too far below our own standard of +truth to harm even the soles of our feet, and if they are true, it must +be they lie beyond us, and we shall feel obliged to reach for them, and +be glad of the opportunity. Halbert, have you nothing to say? are you to +go with us? the three-seated wagon will hold us all." + +"Yes," added mother, "and we will take our dinner and go to cousin +Belinda Sprague's to eat it." + +Halbert looked a little puzzled and then replied: + +"I guess the rest of you may go the first time, and I will stay at home +with Will (Mr. Benton), for I know he would as soon stay at home as +go." + +Then said Ben, "Let me go, father, I'm young and I need starting right; +don't you think so?" + +We all laughed at this, and my father looked with fondness at his boy, +as he answered: + +"Ben, it shall be, and a week from next Sabbath, the day, if nothing +happens." + +I believe it was a relief to my father, this hope that there might be +something more beautiful beyond than he had dared to dream; and Clara +was absorbed with the prospect of his getting hold of the truth, which, +though unnamed by her, had always been, it seemed, her firm belief. She +said nothing to me of what had occurred, and the days wore on until the +morning came when Louis said "good-bye," and left us for school. + +Directly after his departure, Aunt Phebe (mother's sister) wrote us she +was coming to visit us for a few days. Of this I was glad, and I +rehearsed to Clara her virtues, told her of her early years, the sorrows +which she had borne, the working early and late to maintain the little +family of four children (for at the age of twenty-eight she was left +widowed and alone in a strange city). Her native town was not far +distant from the one in which we lived, and when she came I expected a +treat, for together these two sisters unshrouded the past, took off the +veil of years that covered their faces, and walked back, hand in hand, +to their childhood--its years, its loves, its friends, its home--and it +was never an old tale to me. + +I loved to hear of grandfather Lewis, who went as minister's waiter in +the War of Seventy-six, going with old Minister Roxford, whose name has +been, and is still to be handed down through generations as a good old +man of Connecticut. Grandfather was only sixteen years at that time, and +though he saw no hard service, but was dressed up in ruffled shirt, +etc., received through life a pension of ninety-six dollars per year, +having enlisted for a period of six months, whereas some of his friends, +who saw hard service, and came out of the contest maimed for life, +received nothing. + +Grandfather was of French extraction, and he boasted largely of this, +but I could not feel very proud of the fact that he traded with the +British, carrying to them hams, dried beef, poultry, and anything in +shape of edibles, receiving in return beautiful silk stockings, bandanna +handkerchiefs, and the tea that the old ladies were so glad to get. +Several times he was nearly captured, and once thrust into a stone wall, +in the town of Stratford, a quantity of silk stockings, with which his +pockets were filled. He was so closely pursued at that time, that he lay +down close to a large log and covered himself with dead leaves, and one +of his pursuers, a moment after, stood on that very log and peered into +the distance, saying, "I wonder which track the scamp took." + +I must not tell you more about this grandfather, whose history filled me +full of wonder, but must hasten on to meet Aunt Phebe, who came +according to appointment, and found a warm reception. She had a fine +face, was tall and well-formed, her hair was a light-brown, and her eyes +a bright, pure blue; she had a pleasant mouth and evenly set teeth, and +she was a sweet singer. She is yet living, and sings to-day a "Rose tree +in full blooming" with as sweet a cadence as when I was a child. + +Clara was drawn toward her, and brought some of her best thoughts to the +surface; read to her some of her own little poems, and wrote one for +her, speaking tenderly of the past and hopefully of the future. Aunt +Phebe had a nature to appreciate the beautiful, and ought herself to +have been given the privilege of a later day, that she might have +expressed her own good and true thoughts. She was a member of the +Baptist church, and while we had no fear of condemnation from her lips, +we knew she had not as yet tested this new thought that was now +agitating our minds. She said she would like to go with us to hear +"Father Ballou," as he was called by the Universalist people, and Clara, +said: + +"Well, Mrs. ----, the day is coming when all shall see and rejoice at +the knowledge they have long desired; this will be the real fruit that +has been promised by the hope of the soul for years; and it is not new, +it is an old, old truth, and for this reason there will be less +preparation needed to accept it. The soil is ready, and the hand of the +age will drop the seed in the furrows which the years have made." + +"This talk is as good as a sermon," said Aunt Phebe, "I would like to +hear you every week. Learning the work of wisdom is not an easy task, +and all these thoughts come as helping hands to us; we are never too old +to learn." + +Aunt Phebe was free from all vanity; she dressed simply, and was truly +economical. Her hands were never idle; she had always something to do; +and during the few days she spent with us she insisted on helping. A +huge basket of mending yielded to her deft hands, and patches and darns +were made without number. These were among our great necessities, for, +as in every other household, garments were constantly wearing out, and +stitches breaking that must be again made good, and nothing could be +appreciated more than her services in this direction. Mother felt, +however, that she was doing wrong to let her work at all. + +"Phebe," I heard her say one afternoon, as they sat in our middle room +together, "you have stitches enough to take at home, and I feel +condemned to see you so busy here. You should have every moment to rest +in; I wish you could stay longer, for I believe when these carpet rags +are cut you will find nothing more to do, and then we could rest and +talk together. How I wish Sally and Polly and Thirza could be with us, +and our brothers too! Have you heard from Peter lately?" + +"I heard only a few days before I left; one of the girls came down, and +she said Peter was well, but oh, how they miss their own mother! Peter's +first wife was the best mother I ever knew; those little girls looked as +neat as pins, with their blue and iron-rust dresses, and she taught them +to do so much--not half do it, but to finish what they began. I think of +her with reverence, for her ways were in accordance with her ideas of +duty, and she was no ordinary woman. It seems too bad she could not have +lived." + +And Aunt Phebe sighed, and then added: + +"You ask what makes me work? Work has been my salvation. In the needs of +others I have forgotten my own terrible experiences, and although the +first time I washed a bedquilt I said 'I can never do that thing +again,' I have since then washed many; and done also the thousand kinds +of work that only a woman can do. Force of circumstances has made me +self-reliant, and so long as I can work I am not lonely, and if there +comes a day when the labor of my hands is less needed, I shall be only +too glad to take the time for reading I so much desire." + +"Oh, Phebe!" said my mother, "I often think of you as you were when +young; slender and lithe as a willow, with a cheek where the rose's +strength did not often gather; and then I think of all you have done +since, and looking at you to-day, you seem to me a perfect marvel; for +you have lived, and borne hard work and sorrow, and your face is fresh, +your fingers taper as of old, and on your cheek is the tinge of pink +that becomes you so well. You are only five years younger than I, and +you look every day of twenty; you may outlive me--yes, I'm sure you +will." + +There was silence for a few moments, and then Aunt Phebe said: + +"Speaking of work makes me think to tell you about an old colored man +who came to my door last winter. He was so cold he could hardly talk, +but seeing some coal before the door wanted to put it in for me. I asked +him in, and he grew warmer after a little. I made a cup of hot +composition tea for him, and while he was putting in the coal hunted up +an old coat that one of our neighbors had given me for carpet rags, and +when the poor old man told me his story I felt like proclaiming it to +the city. Never mind that now. He lived through the winter and did not +freeze, and last summer found considerable work, but I have thought for +some time how valuable his help would be to William, my father, and I +wonder if he could find a place to live in here among you. His name is +Matthias Jones, and he is faithful though slow, but the constant +dropping, you know, wears a stone. I like the old man, and you would, +for he is honest and ambitious. He might have owned a farm himself if +the evil of slavery had not crushed under its foot the seeds of growth +that lay within him. Mr. Dutton has helped to get him work." + +"Phebe," said mother, interrupting her, "are you going to marry that Mr. +Dutton?" + +"I can't say," said Aunt Phebe, and their conversation closed, for +father came in and supper-time drew near. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MATTHIAS JONES. + + +Father was consulted regarding the coming of Matthias Jones, and he +thought it would be a good plan, for our farming people had often cause +to hire help, and it had always been scarce, since it was only in the +busiest time there were such needs. + +Aunt Phebe and myself were delegated to go over to the house of Jacob +Lattice and Plint Smith, who were the only colored people among us, and +who lived about a mile to the west of our house. We thought there might +be a chance for a home among them, and so it proved. + +Jacob Lattice's wife had no room; "hardly enough for themselves," Mrs. +Lattice said depreciatingly, "much less any place for strange folks"; +but Mrs. Smith, known to us all as Aunt Peg, gave us a little hope. She +had a peculiar way of addressing people, and sometimes her talk seemed +more like the grunting of words strangely mixed. When she saw Aunt Phebe +with me, her face radiated in smiles (and as her mouth was large, these +smiles were broad grins) and, jerking her small wool-covered head while +she hastily smoothed out her long apron, she said: + +"Come in, Miss Minot." + +"This is my aunt,--you have seen her before," I replied. + +"Yes, seen her to meetin' with ye; come in, mam," and she dropped a low +curtsey and set forward two chairs, whose sand-scoured seats were white +and spotless, for Aunt Peg was a marvel of neatness. + +I told our errand, and with one of her queer looks, she said: + +"Is he clean?" + +Aunt Phebe replied, "Why, I think the old man does the best he can, a +lone man can't do as well as a woman, you know." + +"Well, there's that ground room of mine he kin have if Plint is willin', +and if he ain't, for that matter; for Plint himself arn't good for +nothin' but fiddlin', and you see if I want bread I get it. I s'pose +wimmen ought to be a leetle worth mindin', 'specially if they get their +own bread," and a look of satisfaction crept over her face as if pleased +with this thought. + +"Well," said Aunt Phebe, "I would like to see the room, and also know +the price of it; of course, you must have some pay for it, and then, if +Matthias should be ill, or prove troublesome to you in any way, it will +not be so hard for you." + +"Oh, the pay, bless the Master, mam, I never get pay for anything +hardly, not even the work I did up to Deacon Grover's for years! I jist +wish I had that money in a chist in the cellar. He kep' it for me, he +said, an' so he did, an' he keeps it yet, and--oh! but the room, come +right along, this way, mam," and we followed her steps. + +She led us out of the little door, which in the summer was covered with +those dear old cypress vines my mother used to have, and though the +lattice was made by her own hands of rude strips, when it was well +covered with the cypress intergrown with the other vines, there was +great beauty round that little door. + +When Clara saw it, and I told her of its construction, and remarked on +Aunt Peg's love for flowers, she said: + +"Ah, Emily, it is typical of our nature! We do seem so rudely made in +the winter of our ignorance, and through the lattice of our untutored +thoughts the cold winds of different opinions blow and we are troubled. +But when the summer of our better nature dawns, and the upturned soil +catches seed, even though dropped by a careless hand, the vines of love +will cover all our coldness, and the scarlet and white blossom of our +beautiful thoughts appear among the leaves. Aunt Peg's earthly hand made +the lattice, and the love of her undying soul planted the cypress +seeds." + +I thought of it this cold winter's day, and told Aunt Phebe, as we +passed out of the door, how many flowers she had in summer and how +pretty the vines were. Aunt Peg heard me, and smiled graciously. Then we +went around to a side door, which opened into the ground room, as she +called it. + +Her house was on a bank, or at least its main part, and while a valley +lay on one side, the ground rose upon the other. The door-sill of this +room was, therefore, even with both the ground and the floor, and on +either side of it were two windows, both door and windows facing the +south. The sides and back of the room had no windows, the back partition +being that which divided it from Aunt Peg's little cellar; and the east +and west sides were hedged in by the bank which came sloping down from +both front and back doors. + +"This is a very comfortable little room," said Aunt Phebe. "Now, what +will be the rent?" + +"Well, if you are bent on payin', I don't want to say less than ten +dollars a year." + +"I would call it twelve, and that will be one dollar a month, Mrs. +Smith." + +"Thank you, mam, it'll be a great help; I have the sideache sometimes, +and can't do nothing for a day or so, not even get the wool rolls off my +wheel, and that is jist play when I'm smart: he may come neat or not +neat, Plint or no Plint," and the bargain was finished, and Matthias +Jones was to appear on, or near, the first of March. + +My rehearsal of our visit at the dinner-table provoked great mirth, and +Mr. Benton smiled on me more kindly than ever before, but I could not +but think, whenever I looked at him, that he must die pretty soon, +because Clara could not love him, and he had told her his life was +dependent on her love. + +The days of Aunt Phebe's visit drew too quickly to their close, and the +time to go came on a bright sun-shiny morning. Father carried her to the +railway station; we filled a large trunk with the farm products, so +welcome to those who live in cities. Aunt Hildy put in a bundle the +contents of which she did not even want me to guess. She was a firm +friend to Aunt Phebe, and shook her hand when she left, as if loath to +let it go, and said: + +"Come again as soon as you can, and if I am in my own little nest, come +and stay with me, and we'll have some more good sensible talk that helps +our wings to grow; we are only covered with pin-feathers so far." + +Aunt Phebe appreciated this good old soul, and said, earnestly, "God +bless you, Mrs. Patten," as my father started the horses. + +Aunt Hildy watched them until they were out of sight, saying as she came +in, "That woman will have an easier time before she dies. My Bible says, +'He that is faithful over a few things shall be made ruler over many.' +She will have a home of her own, jest as true as preachin' is preachin', +Mrs. Minot." + +"She ought to," said mother. "May the day be hastened!" and again that +never-to-be-neglected work claimed our attention. + +Since Louis' departure Clara had had several "pale" days, as she called +them. After Aunt Phebe left us, she seemed to grow weak. I felt worried, +and could not refrain from asking her what troubled her. She turned her +beautiful eyes full on me, and putting both her hands in mine, said: + +"I know that Louis heard it, and that he told you, and your secret +sympathy has been a strength to me. It will pass over, Emily, but +Professor Benton is not satisfied. He will not be content that I may not +answer his demand for love. Yes, Emily, his words were soft, but a blade +was beneath them and I could feel that it would have cut my +heart-strings. I thank our Father that I do not love him; I should be so +starved. Emily, I can love your brother,--no, no, not with that best +love," she said quickly, noting, I suppose, the look of wonder in my +eyes, "but I can have that love for him that is founded on great respect +and faith in his pure heart. It is only their art draws them together; +they are not alike, and they will not come too near. The days will +sunder them, and it will be better that they should. But, Emily, I must, +I fear, call Louis back to give me strength. He is a great help to me. +On his heart as on his arm I can rest myself, and I need him so much. I +cannot tell you now, but you will know some time when you are no longer +as strong as now, how the spirit feels the darts that are shot from the +mind of another, and bury their poisoned points in the quivering life." + +She looked so weak as she spoke, her face was so transparently white, +that I trembled with fear. + +That night we slept together--she alone slept, however, for my eyes were +open, their lids refusing to close until after midnight, and it was long +after that hour before I fully lost consciousness. I felt wretched the +next day in both body and mind, and my spirit was roused within me. + +"I will avert it," I said to myself--thinking first to ask mother how, +and afterward saying aloud "No, I'll do it myself, Emily will do it," +and the harder I thought the faster I worked. + +I never washed the dishes so quickly; milkpans were despatched speedily +to the buttery shelves, and at last Aunt Hildy, who was kneading bread, +stopped, and looking at me, said: + +"What on airth are you going to do? you work as if you was a gettin' +reddy to go to a weddin', or somethin'--Is there doins on hand among the +folks?" + +"No, mam," I replied, "but I have been so full of thoughts I could not +help hurrying." + +"I hope you're on the right track, Emily; sometimes ideas that stir one +up so aint jest the kind we ought to have." + +"I'm on the track of truth, Aunt Hildy, and that is the right track." + +"Well, it ought to be, but sometimes truth has to wait for sin to get by +before it can move an inch. I've seen it so many a time," and a sort of +sigh fluttered to her lips, but the look of resolution that followed it +closely gave it no time to linger, and the lines about her mouth grew +firm as she resumed her bread-kneading. + +Clara was better during this day, and while she took her after-dinner +nap, I came quickly down into Hal's studio, and seated myself in his +chair with a book. + +Hal was in town all day on business, and I expected Mr. Benton to be +there, and he appeared, saying: + +"You look very comfortable, Miss Minot; am I an intruder?" + +"No, sir, you are the person I wish of all others to talk to." Where was +my guardian angel then? + +"In need of advice, are you?" + +"No, sir, not at all; I have some to give, however," and his eyes opened +widely, as he seated himself almost directly opposite me on a lounge, +taking a very artistic position, with his head resting on his hand, and +his arm supported by that of the lounge. + +"Proceed, Miss Minot, for I assure you I am much in need of comfort, and +if you had been ready before, I might have been thankful to receive it." + +I had begun more abruptly than I meant, and already felt I was stepping +on dangerous ground. I thought for an instant I would turn it aside in a +joke, then Clara's pale face rose before, and I said impetuously: + +"I came to speak for another, though without her authority or knowledge. +I desire to ask you not to trouble Clara, by persisting in your suit." + +He started to his feet as if a hand had struck him, walked a few steps, +and then turned toward me with a blanched face, and eyes that seemed to +be leaping from their sockets; he was struggling between anger and +policy. The latter prevailed, as he said: + +"You are much interested in me; you fear that I shall have a friend. Is +that it?" + +"I suggested nothing of that kind; I fear my lovely Clara may die." He +smiled derisively. + +"Am I then such a monster that I am feared? Really, Miss Minot, your +picture of me is rather different from anything I have before known." + +"I ought to have known you would not understand me. It would have been +equal folly for me to try to explain Clara's nature to you, for you do +not and cannot appreciate it." + +"We are getting into deep water," he interrupted, but I continued: + +"I have never called you a monster and have treated you as well as I +knew how to. You were my brother's friend, I have not doubted your +esteem for Clara, for how can any see her without loving and respecting +her; that is not the point. Your feelings, she has told you, she cannot +reciprocate; why can you not respect her feelings, even at the sacrifice +of your own? If you would do this, Mr. Benton, you would be stronger." + +"Miss Minot, you are braver than I imagined. Let me disarm your fear; I +have no intention of intruding myself where I am not desired. How you +came in possession of these interesting facts is a mystery (insinuating, +I felt, that I had been eavesdropping). Nevertheless I admit them all, +and I admire you greatly. You are, however, as impulsive as a changeful +sea, and you made little preparation for this conversation. Allow me to +suggest that in affairs of the heart you should be a little less stormy. +I am your friend, and I say this in kindness." + +"I thank you, sir; you have lived longer than I have, and I know by the +expression in your eye to-day that you can, if you choose, govern all +the love in your nature at the will of your intellect; I cannot, and I +never want to; I like to be impulsive, I like to be true, I hate +policy." As I spoke, my eyes were, I know, like dark fires. + +He looked like a man of marble as he said, "Your fears are ungrounded; +you might have spared yourself this trouble," and turning, left me. + +"There, 'Emily did it,' and didn't do it all," I said to myself. "Now he +will be more determined than ever, Clara will die, Louis will hate me, +and I shall be bereft doubly. Oh! dear, dear! Emily mistakes--my name +should be." Then the tears came and I sat with my face buried in my +hands, and cried like a child. A hand touched me, an arm crept round +me, "Hal," I said, starting. + +"No," said Wilmur Benton in his sweeter tone, "It is I." + +"Oh!" I screamed almost, making an attempt to rise, but his arm held me +firmly as he said: + +"Forgive me, Miss Minot, if I have caused you pain--I spoke harshly, I +fear." + +"You are forgiven," I said, "let me go." + +"You are my friend still?" he asked. + +"Yes, yes," I said quickly, "do let me go," and I fled to my own room, +and endeavored to wash away the stains of tears, to make my appearance +down stairs, for it was already late and mother would be looking for me. + +I felt unlike myself and feared all would discern my uneasiness. Mr. +Benton had, I knew, a mistaken idea, and his polite attentions were +torture to me; he evidently thought my tears needed his commiseration, +whereas, I was only sorry I had not delivered a forcible speech in +Clara's behalf, and caused him (as I had intended) to realize the +necessity of a change in his conduct toward her. I expected him to be +vexed with me and was willing he should be, if it would relieve Clara. +Now, however, he seemed to feel I was entitled to his sympathy. There +was one thought, however, that gave relief; while he was occupying +himself with me, Clara would not be annoyed. Mother said she had a +basket to send to Aunt Peg, and I volunteered to take it. Mr. Benton +smilingly said: + +"Let me accompany you, Miss Minot, it will be quite dark ere you +return." + +"I am not afraid, thank you, and it will be moonlight," then thinking +of Clara I added, "still I might encounter an assassin on the road." + +This did not help the matter any, and only furthered the mistaken +thought of Mr. Benton; nevertheless for the sake of that dear friend, +for whom I knew I could have borne anything, I had, after all, a secret +delight, in being misunderstood. I was a willing martyr to a just cause, +and we started together. + +"Take my arm, Miss Minot." + +"Thank you, walking is second nature to me, and very easy," I replied. + +After walking a little further he said, "I am very glad of this +opportunity to talk with you, Miss Minot; I fear, from what I gathered +in our talk of this afternoon, your idea of me is one which I would fain +alter--it is not pleasant to feel that one is misjudged--" + +"I know that," I interrupted. + +--"And especially when the charge is a serious one. I cannot understand +why I was so feared; rude enough I must have seemed, and your first +words gave me a shock; I hardly know now how to explain it, and what I +desire is light. Pray tell me by what act of mine, you came to such an +unwarrantable conclusion." + +"It was no act of yours at all. Common sense, I suppose, told me you +would not be foiled if you could help it. All men are selfish." + +"Are not women?" + +"No, sir," I replied, "they are foolish." + +"Excuse the question, but has Mrs. Desmonde complained to you?" + +"No, sir," I said quickly--that was a little story and then again it was +not, I reasoned. + +"So I must conclude that you feared for the safety of your friend, +reading, as you thought you did, the terrible selfishness of my heart. + +"I guess that is about right," I said. + +"You admit this as a fact?" + +"Yes; before a judge, if you desire," I said. + +"That being the case, let me here say from my heart I am not as much in +love with Mrs. Desmonde as I might be, and one reason is that I find her +more and more enveloped in the strange fancies peculiar, I judge, to +herself alone." + +"What am I to understand from this? Strange fancies, indeed! If truth +and love are strange fancies, she is indeed enveloped. My darling Clara! +She is a light leading to the eternal city. I knew you could not +understand her." + +"Well, Miss Minot, let me explain. I know she is graceful, and +beautiful, and truly good, but none can know positively there is an +eternal city, and I must say I do not feel interested in the dreamy +talk, which is, after all, only talk." + +"Goodness!" I exclaimed, "are you an infidel?" + +"I cannot vouch for anything beyond this life." + +"If I felt I could not, I'd commit suicide to-morrow." + +He laughed heartily at this, and, as we were at Aunt Peggy's door, could +not answer until we turned toward home, when he said: + +"Instead of taking my life, I desire to keep it as long as I can, and +get all the enjoyment possible on this side the grave. I hope I have +made myself understood, and disarmed every fear of your friendly heart." + +"The days will tell," I replied, and our walk at last was ended. + +It had been thoroughly uncomfortable to me, although he had seemed to be +enjoying every step. I went to my room that night, and in my dreams +tried to find the garden of Eden somewhere in our town, while a snake, +with eyes like Wilmur Benton's, seemed to be crawling close behind me, +and with the daybreak, I said: + +"That dream means something." + +Aunt Peg told me she should go to work and clean up the ground-room, and +if father had any old "chunks of wood he could spare, Plint could come +over and get 'em, and when that new nigger came, there'd be a prospect +awaitin'." + +I carried the message, and father thought it would be a good plan to +have Matthias Jones appear, as he had more wood cut in the forest than +he could haul with Ben's help, and doubtless this poor man would be glad +of the job. Mother said the room could be made ready, she thought, +inasmuch as there was an extra high-post bedstead in our attic chamber. +Aunt Hilda added, "I've got a good feather mattress to put on it, and a +straw-bed is easily fixed." + +So I wrote a letter to Aunt Phebe, and Plint came over for the chunks of +wood, riding back on a load of things we had gathered. When the +ground-room was ready for occupancy, it was not a cheerless place. A +nicely-made bed in its north-west corner, a deal table at the east side +of the room, two rush-bottomed chairs, and a straight-backed rocker, +two breadths of carpet lying through its centre, the wide-mouthed +fireplace, with well-filled wood-box at its right hand,--all savored of +comfort. To cap the climax, Clara put up to the windows some half +curtains of unbleached cotton, bound with bright French red. It really +looked nice, and Aunt Peg said: "I do hope, mam, he's clean." + +The days sped on quickly, and Clara felt better. Mr. Benton had +evidently dropped all thought of her, and his uniformly kind treatment +of us, began, after a little, to make me feel ashamed of the suspicions +which had crossed my mind. Letters from Louis came as usual, and I wish +I could give them now--such beautifully-expressed thoughts, such tender +touches did he give to his word pictures, that I read and re-read them. +Treasures they were, and I have them all yet; not one but is too sacred +to lose. My heart grew strong in its love for him, and his thoughts were +all as hands reaching for my own. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE TEACHING OF HOSEA BALLOU. + + +February first brought Matthias Jones. Father met him at the village, +and our curiosity which was aroused regarding this new comer, was +thoroughly gratified at his appearance. A better specimen of a southern +negro was never seen. He was above the medium size, broad-shouldered; +his hair thick and wooly, sprinkled with grey, and covering a large, +flat surface on the top of his head. His nose was of extra size, mouth +in proportion, and his eyes, which were not dull, expressed considerable +feeling, and you would know when you looked at them he was honest. His +gait was slow, slouchy as I called it, and, as he walked leisurely along +the path, Ben whispered, "My soul, what feet!" Sure enough, they seemed +to stretch back too far, and they were immense. + +He took supper with us, and then father and Ben both went over to his +future home with him, and introduced him to Aunt Peg and Plint. He was +to work for father, and would be over in the "mornin'," he said. + +"I wonder if he was a slave, Emily?" said Ben. + +"I think so," said I. "We will question him to-morrow if we get a +chance," and we did, for the day was stormy, and father did not go to +the woods, but kept Matthias at work in the barn cleaning up, etc. About +four o'clock his work was finished, and we invited him to come in and +sit awhile. + +"Now, Ben," I said, and we seated ourselves for a conference. + +"Mr. Jones," said I, "you came from the South, did you?" + +"'Pears like I did, Miss, an' it's a mighty cool country yere; I'm nigh +froze in de winter, I is sartin." + +"Were you a slave?" + +"Yes'm," and the old man gave a long sigh. + +"Would you mind telling us about it? Ben and I never saw a person before +from the South." + +"Never did? There's a heap on 'em, wud 'jes like ter see ye. Long time +awaitin', but de promise ov de Massa mus' be true," and again a +thoughtful look came over his dusky face. "I don't mind tellin' ye a +little if I ken. I was a slave in Carlina, an' I had a good massa, Miss; +a fus-rate man, but he done tuk sick an' died, an' then--wh-e-ew," and +he gave a long, low whistle, "thar cum sich a time thar; de ole woman +she done no nuthin' 'bout de biznis, an' de big son he sell all de +niggers an' get _all_ de money, an' dars whar my trubbel begin. De nex' +massa had de debbil fur his father, sure; nothin' go rite; made me go +an' marry, fus thing, an' to a gal I didn't like, nohow. Little niggers +come along, an' I done bes' I cud by 'em, but what cud I do? Nothin' at +all; an' fus thing I knew--he'd done gone an' sold ebery one ob dat +family, and den he mus' hab me marry agin. Dis secon' marriage was +better'n that; fur I did like de gal mighty well. 'Pears like we's +gwine to take sum comfort, and when we'd had de meetins to our cabin, +oh! how we did jes pray fur dat freedom we hear'm tell 'bout--pray mos' +too loud, for dat old Mas'r Sumner tink we's alltogeder too happy, an' +den, he up and sold dat pretty gal ob ourn, what was jes risin' uv her +fourth year, Miss, an' as pretty as could be. Dis broke my wife's heart, +an' den he sold one more to a trader; and not long fur de wife an' two +last' chilun was gone. Den I jes swore rite up, Miss--rite into dat +Masr's face an' eyes--'I'm neber gwine to hab no more chilun,' an' he +says to me, 'Matt, you got to do jes as I say,' an' I swear agin, an' he +cuss and swear, an' then, I got sich a floggin'--Miss, but I didn't +keer, an' I would never done as dat man sed, an' I 'spected to die, but +a New Orleans trader cum dat way, an' I was sold, and Mas'r Sumner said, +de las' thing, 'You'll get killed now, Matt.' 'All right, Mas'r,' I sed, +'de Lord is a waitin' an' He's a good fren, too,' an' off I went. Dar we +wur in a pen in New Orleans, waitin' fur we didn't know what, an' on +come a fever an' dat trader know he's got to die. Den, to make peace wid +de Lord at the las't jump he done giv us all freedom, an' money to git +us into dat great city ov New York; an' mine lasted me clean up to Misse +Hungerford's door (Aunt Phebe), an' las' night, when I see dat nice room +over thar an' that good fire, oh! my," and the old man buried his face +in his hands and wept like a child, then looking up, he said, "Ef I cud +only ahad my chilun in thar; 'pears de Lord Himself might ahelped me a +minnit sooner--but dey is gone, all done gone, an' 'taint no use." + +"You may meet them again, Mr. Jones; I hope we shall know each other +there in that better country, and if we do you'll surely know and find +them." + +"Oh! Miss, that's the bery thing, it takes a load right off yere, when I +think about it," and he laid his hand on his heart, "but I'd better be +shufflin' off home, an' I'll tell you a heap more sometime," and as he +went through the yard, I heard him singing "dat New Je-ru-sa-lem," +prolonging the last word, as if it was too musical to lose. + +I told it all to Clara, and she said: + +"Oh! Emily, is he not one of God's children, and is it not true that all +have that within which points to better things? How could the soul of +this poor negro stay within his body if it were not for this hope that +covers his troubles, and, like a lantern-light, throws a gleam into the +path which lies before? I hope he will live now in comfort and die in +peace. He must have been sent to you. Next time let me listen to his +story." And she did, for the next evening we walked together over to his +home, and spent two hours pleasantly enough. + +Clara could not rest until sure of just how he could get along there, +and finally made an arrangement with Aunt Peg to give him his meals when +he should be there. The voice of the old man--he looked more than sixty +years, but said his age was fifty, I think he did not know--quivered +with emotion, as he said: + +"Thank yer, mam, thank yer kindly, I'll tote a load forty miles for ye +any day, and I kin tote pretty 'harbaneous' loads too." + +"Never mind that, Mr. Jones, I like to see you comfortable." + +"Strange talk, mam," he said; "these yere ole ears been more used to, +'git up thar, yer lazy nigger, this yere cottin mus be got into de +market.'" + +He proved a valuable acquisition to my father, and before this month of +February, whose beginning brought him to us, had passed, father said to +mother: + +"I hardly see how I could get on without Matthias. He is so trusty, and +he is smart too. If the poor fellow had been given half a chance, he +would have made a good business man, for he has good ideas as to +bringing things around in season." + +"Truth is stranger than fiction," said mother. "Two classes of society +have been perfectly represented in those who have been brought to us +during this last year." + +"How strangely things work, and there seem to be ways under them all +that will work out in spite of us," said father. + +The Sabbath on which we had expected to go to hear the Reverend Hosea +Ballou preach proved cold and rainy, and a month would elapse ere he +came again. We were impatient waiters, but the time came at last, on the +Sabbath after the arrival of Matthias, and he was to come over and +attend to the early milking, while Hal and Mr. Benton would have supper +ready for us on our return. + +That day was to me like a never-to-be-forgotten sunrise. Although gleams +of light had before this crossed my vision, never had so radiant a +morning of perception opened the door of my soul. New yet old, unknown +yet longed for, those words fell like golden sun-rays into the room of +my understanding; they bathed me with light, and baptized me with +tenderness, while I stood at the fount of living inspiration. That grand +old man, then about seventy-two years of age, talked to the assembled +congregation from this text: "For we know that if our earthly house of +this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God; an house not +made with hands, eternal in the heavens" (Second Corinthians, fifth +chapter and first verse). It was all as natural as a part of himself +could be, and he was a power. Pure and dispassionate, the plea he made +rested on the ground of revealed truth. He told us of what the history +of the past furnished, and carried us clear on into the life beyond. +"The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life; as in Adam all die, so +in Christ shall all be made alive." + +It seemed to me then, and still seems, that he spoke with a power that +was divine. The tide of earnest thought and feeling that carried him +with his subject out on the depth, carried also his hearers, and we were +shown the way to the port of eternal life. Oh, how he strengthened me! +His touching invocation reached, as it seemed, the very doors of heaven +and swung them wide open, and when the people joined in singing the good +old hymn, written by Sebastian Streeter, whose first verse runs as +follows: + + What glorious tidings do I hear + From my Redeemer's tongue! + I can no longer silence bear, + I'll burst into a song. + +I cried almost aloud for great joy. My father and mother were moved, and +when they saw my tears united their own. To our great surprise, after +the service we learned that the professor was the guest of our cousin, +Belinda Sprag, and at her house after dinner I had an opportunity to say +to him: + +"Mr. Ballou, call me your child, for you have to-day baptized me. I am a +Universalist, I know, for I love your doctrine." + +"Bless you, my daughter," was his reply. "God finds His own through +time. May your young heart be made strong, and your life blossom with +roses that have no thorns." + +That was great honor to me; the touch of that hand on my head; those +words addressed to me. We all went home, having had a feast of good +things, and our blessed Clara, who had been the means of leading us to +the light, sat all the way as in a dream, only saying: + +"I have long known it was true." + +Ben added his testimony to the rest. + +"When I die," said he, "I want that man to preach my funeral sermon, if +he will, and if he can't, I don't want any at all." + +Dear boy, he had a loving heart; he was born later than either Hal or +me, and had an earlier spiritual development. Is it not always so? + +I could not enjoy my new thoughts in silence as Clara did, and gave vent +to my theme in the strongest terms. Hal did not ridicule me at all: he +was too sensible for this, but he smiled at my strong expressions, and +said: + +"You will preach yourself if you keep on, and I believe you would make +converts. Your eyes are as large again as they were this morning." + +"Then it must improve my looks, Hal," I said. "If so, I am glad, for in +that respect I have always stood in the background. My brother is an +artist, and must, of course, have the handsome face." + +He laughed again, and added: + +"He will never be ashamed of his sister, I think, and never say 'Emily +did it,' even if she turns preacher." + +Mr. Benton enquired--with his eyes--the meaning of those words. + +I answered: + +"Oh! Hal was forever shouting that in my earlier years at my many +mistakes, until I almost hated the sound of my own name, for I was +always doing the very things I tried not to, and I fear I have not +finished all yet. And I thought, for a little, of the wrong light in +which Mr. Benton held my strange talk with him. + +I was each day more troubled regarding this, and especially so, since I +had no one to talk with about it. Clara I must not tell, and I had +resolved for her sake to be misunderstood indefinitely, for if I had +failed in one point, I had gained in another. The burden was lifted from +her, and she had told me the cloud was broken and she felt better, and +added the strange words, "It may yet come near me; it seems as if a +fringe of the cloud must yet touch me: but I am relieved for the +present." + +I feared to worry my mother, who, during all these days, was very busy +and full of care. Aunt Hildy would hardly understand me, and as I was +waiting for something to move as it were, to make room for me to step, I +must still wait, and thought what a pity it was I had not waited in the +beginning, and then when I did move make all things plain. But then it +lay before me, around and within me, this strange compound of good +thought and impulsive will, and I must reach and fall until, ah! I could +not tell when I should graduate in this school. + +I had now power to restrain myself in many ways, and that had been given +in the days before described, when I passed from girlhood to womanhood, +but to sit satisfied and wait, I could not yet do. It seemed as if the +wings of my thought must grow, and wanted to help me fly, and I was like +a bird longing to get into the freedom that waited, and like the bird +too, did not realize that my attempts would be in vain, and I could +never get out of the cage until a hand opened its door. Therefore, full +often I battled unwisely, but I certainly came to know those times, and +never made a mistake that I did not realize just a moment too late. How +foolish it was! + +I prayed for strength, and after the baptism of Mr. Ballou's preaching, +I thought, "This will help to make me stronger; now I shall make fewer +mistakes." + +This was a comfort and a light before me, but my heart sank a little, +thinking I might have penance to do for those already committed,--coming +events cast their shadows before. + +So full of this thought my heart grew, that I asked Aunt Hildy one day +if she ever felt trouble before it came, and if that feeling had ever +helped her to avoid any part of what was to come. + +"Well," said she,--she was coring and paring apples for pies,--taking up +the towel and wiping one apple three or four times over in an absent +way, "Well, Emily, I've had a host of troubles in my day. They began +early, perhaps they'll end late, but there is one thing, the things we +expect are agoin' to kill us, most allus turn out like the shadder of a +gate post. You know the shadder sometimes will be clean across the road, +but when you find the post itself 'taint more'n five feet high. Then +again the things we don't expect 'll come some morning like a great +harricane, and kill the marigolds of the heart in just a minit." + +I was sorry for her sake I had asked the question, for I knew there was +something she thought of that pained her dear old heart, and I kissed +her wrinkled cheek and said: + +"I hope you will always be with us, and trouble have no part in the +matter." + +"There, there, child, don't talk so; never mind kissin' my old face +neither, I've allus said it only made it worse to think of it, and I've +shut up my heart tight and done the best I could as it comes along. When +I get in that new body I shall have over there," and her tearful eyes +were looking upward then, "perhaps I can hope to have some love that'll +touch that empty spot." + +I turned to my work and left Aunt Hildy with the shadows of the past +clinging about her, her feelings being too sacred for the gaze even of a +friend. Every heart knoweth its bitterness, I thought, and secretly +wondered if every heart had to bleed a little here, holding some sorrow +close to itself. If so, our duty in life would ever be a struggle, +whereas it seemed to me the world was so beautiful, and if every life +could reflect this beauty, all would be easy, and the pleasure of +well-doing be always at hand. + +Aunt Peg said 'twas easy enough to preach, but hard work to practise. I +began to realize it a little, and the teacher who gave me the most +practical illustrations was myself. + +I wrote a long letter to Louis, telling him of our going to hear Mr. +Ballou preach, and of Matthias' coming among us, and I felt like making +him my confessor, and wanted to tell him all about the frantic endeavor +I had made for Clara's sake; but my letter was long enough when I felt +this impulse, and I thought I could talk it all over with him when he +came, and concluded to wait. And here is another lesson, for me to stop +and reflect on. As time proved, that impulse was right, and I should +have followed its guidance, while the sober second thought which I +obeyed and of which I felt proud, led me to just the opposite of what I +ought to have done. How was I to find myself out? If I yielded to +impulse I was so often wrong, and in that instance I should certainly +have been impulsive. Again comes in the text, "the ways of life are past +comprehending." + +Mr. Benton improved every opportunity to talk with me, and while I did +not like the man at first, I became gradually interested in what he +said; and when, in confidence, he informed me that Hal was in love with +Mary Snow, I had a secret joy at receiving his confidence. He was +eighteen years older than myself, and after my mind was settled +regarding the wrong estimate in which I had held him, I treated his +opinions with more deference than over before, and came to regard him as +a good friend to us all. + +I intimated to Clara one day that he was a much better man than I had +thought, and she gave me no reply, but looked on me with a light of +wonder in her eyes. + +"He does not trouble you now, Clara, does he?" + +"Not as before, Emily." + +"Well, does he at all?" + +"I cannot say I feel quite at ease, Emily dear," she replied. + +And I said: "It is your beautifully sensitive nature, darling; you +cannot recover the balance once lost, and the tender nerves that have +been shaken are like strings that after a touch continue to vibrate." + +"Perhaps so, Emily, but I shall be so glad when the day comes when no +mask of smiles can cover the workings of the heart, so glad; when we can +really know each other." + +"Those are Louis' sentiments." + +"Oh yes, my dear boy! he has a heart that beats as mine, Emily, and +after many days it shall come to pass that the desires of his heart +shall be gratified." + +Something in her tone and manner made me feel strangely; a chill crept +over me, and for a second I felt numb. + +It passed away, however, and through the gate of duty I found work, and +left these thoughts. + +When March came to us, father insisted that mother should go to Aunt +Phebe's, if we could get along without her--she had a little hacking +cough every spring, and he knew she needed the change. It was decided +that she should go and stay a month, if she could keep away from home so +long. Aunt Hildy said: "Why, Mis' Minot, go right along. Don't you take +one stitch of work with you neither. Go, and let your lungs get full of +different air, and see what that'll do for you. Take along some +everlasting flowers I've got, and make a tea and drink it while you're +there, and let the tea and the air do their work together." + +So, although it was a trial to mother to leave home, she went, and we +were to be alone. There were a good many of us, but it seemed to me, the +first week, that her place would not be filled by twenty others, and +while I enjoyed the thought of her being free from care, I walked out in +the cold March wind alone every night after supper, and let the tears +fall. If I had been indoors Clara would surely have found me. It was on +one of these walks that Mr. Benton overtook me, and passed his arm +within mine, saying: + +"What does this mean, Emily," he dropped "Miss Minot" soon after the +first talk, "this is the fifth time I have seen you go out at this hour +alone; what is the matter? Are you in trouble?" + +"And if I am," I said, "what have you to do with it?" at the same time +trying to release his arm from mine. + +"I have the right of a dear friend, I hope," he said, and the tears that +would keep falling forced a confession from me and provoked his +laughter, which grated on my ears at first, but he begged pardon for its +seeming rudeness, and said he was thinking only of my going over the +hills to cry, when I could have a whole house to fill with tears. + +We walked farther than I intended, and Matthias passed us on his way +over to his "ground room." + +I said, "Good evening, Mr. Jones," and he saluted me with uncovered +head, saying: + +"De Lord keep you, miss, till mornin'." + +Realizing how far we had walked, I turned hack so suddenly that Mr. +Benton came near being pushed into the stone wall on the old road +corners. On our return he spoke of Matthias. + +"I don't like that fellow anyway, Emily." + +"Don't like him! why not, pray?" + +He gave a sort of derisive ejaculation, and added: + +"You are a little simpleton, Emily, so good and true, you take all for +gold." + +"Well," I replied, "Matthias is good, I know; but why do you dislike +him?" + +"Oh! he belongs to a miserable, low-lived, thievish race, and he knows +enough to be a dangerous fellow to have round. If I were you I'd not +encourage his hanging round; he'll do something to pay you for your +kindness yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A REMEDY FOR WRONG-TALKING. + + +I could not believe what Mr. Benton said of Matthias, and did not +refrain from speaking of it to Clara, whose opinions were golden to me, +and her reply was perfectly in accordance with my own feelings. Each +took her own route to the conclusion, but her interpretation came as an +intuitive perception, while mine was more like something which fell into +my mind with a power whenever his eyes met my own. + +"Emily," said Clara, "I have taken his dark hand in mine. I have come +close to his white heart, when from his lips have fallen the words +telling his history, and I would trust him everywhere. If any trouble +comes to you, Emily, trust Matthias; he is as true as truth itself, and +his soul is pure--purer, perhaps, than the souls of many who have had +great advantages, and whose forms have been molded in a more beautiful +shape. Our Father judges from within; let our judgment be like his." + +This was good for me to hear. I felt glad that I could sometimes come so +near to Clara's thoughts. I was greatly wrought upon by Matthias' tales +of the South; and yet he venerated the people of that country, and +said: + +"The Northerners are too cold-blooded: they didn't invite folks to have +a bite without first feelin' in their pockets to see if they could find +money there." + +I knew nothing from experience of Southern hospitality, but believed all +he told me, and I thought it the greater pity that such a lovely land +should be so marred with this terrible trade in lives, and I said to +Clara, when we were discussing this subject: + +"Is it not too bad, and does it seem possible that this great evil will +be suffered to endure forever?" + +"No," said Clara, "neither possible nor probable. I may not live to hear +with these earthly ears the glad news, but you, Emily, will live to see +the bond go free, and the serpent of slavery lie at the feet of America, +who will place her heel on its crushed and bleeding head. This will be, +must be, and the years will not number so very many between now and +then." + +"Why do you think so, Clara?" + +"Oh! I do not think it; I know it to be true; I have long known it; it +stands by the side of the beautiful truth we have heard from the lips of +that venerated preacher, Emily, and I cannot see why we may not all be +in some measure the recipients of these truths, for they lie all around +us on every hand. Did you ever read, Emily, of the man called Dr. De +Benneville?" + +"Never," said I; "tell me, please, his history." + +"It was printed about 1783. I think I have it." + +"Well, tell me, Clara, a little; I cannot wait for that now." + +She smiled and said: + +"Dear child, how glad I am that you have so good a heart, and some day +these impulses will drive your boat on the shore of peace that lies +waiting for us on the bay of truth. But you are anxious and I will tell +you. Dr. George De Benneville was the son of a Huguenot, who fled to +England from persecution, and was employed at court by King William. His +mother was a Granville, and died soon after his birth in 1703. He was +placed on board a ship of war--being destined for the navy--at the early +age of twelve years, and received on the coast of Barbary singular +religious impressions, induced, it is said, by his beholding the +kindness of the Moors to a wounded companion. He had great doubts +regarding salvation, but after suffering for months with doubts, the +light was made clear to him, and he held to his heart the faith in a +universal restitution. His great sense of duty led him to preach, and he +commenced in the Market-house of Calais in his seventeenth year. He was +fined and imprisoned, but did not desist. He sought and found +co-laborers, and persisted two years in preaching in the woods and +mountains of France. At Dieppe he was seized, and with a friend, Mr. +Durant, condemned. Durant was hanged, and while the preparations for +beheading De Benneville were in progress, a reprieve from Louis IX +arrived, and after a long imprisonment in Paris, he was liberated +through the intercession of the Queen." + +"Good," I said, "she had a heart." + +"He then spent eighteen years in Germany preaching and devoting himself +to scientific studies, and at the age of thirty-eight he emigrated to +this country. He claimed no denominational name, but preached this +glorious truth. I can come nearer to him than any other whose history I +have known, for was he not called of God, and did he not fulfil his +mission gloriously? He was ill on board the ship which brought him to +America, and when it arrived in Philadelphia, a man by the name of +Christopher Sower came on board, saying he was looking for a man who was +ill, and whom he wished to take to his house. This man Sower was also +divinely led, for he received a commandment in a dream to go seven miles +from his home in Germantown to a certain wharf in Philadelphia, and +inquire on board a ship just arrived for a man who was ill, to take him +home and to specially care for him. He hitched his horse to his +carriage, and followed the instructions of his dream." + +"Were these facts the doors that led you out into light?" I asked. + +"I never read these facts, Emily, until after my vision was made clear, +and I saw the future that lives and waits for all." + +"Girls," called Aunt Hildy, "ef you've got through with the meetin', I +want to ask about these biscuit; I'm afraid they're going to be poor; +come look at 'em, Emily." + +"The biscuit are all right, Aunt Hildy. Did you hear what the preacher +said." + +"No, not really, heard all I could without neglectin' of my work." + +"She has been telling me a story of a good man. We will ask her to +preach again." + +"Perhaps," said Aunt Hildy, "more'n just you and I will hear her. I +can't see how all these ideas are comin' out, and 'pears to me, it looks +as ef we'd got to meet, and have a battle somewhere before long. The +troubles are simmerin' over the fire of different minds, and I shall +never sell my birthright over a mess of pottage; that's jest what I +shan't do. It has stuck to me where everything else has failed, and I'm +never agoin' to let go of it." + +I knew to what she alluded, for our good minister had stirred the waters +with his sermons, and they were, of course, induced by his fearing the +progress of liberal thought in our midst. We had ourselves received a +sermon evidently directed at us, which described the act of going to +hear Mr. Ballou as a wrong step. Even if we had not been clear-sighted +enough to have taken the sermon to ourselves, we should have been +reminded of it by the looks of some of the congregation, who sought out +our pew with strong reproof in their eyes; among those whose eyes met +mine in this manner, I remember most distinctly Jane North and Deacon +Grover. I smiled involuntarily, and with a glance of horror at my +wickedness, they turned their faces toward the preacher. + +Clara was not with us that Sabbath, for which I was glad. I wondered +what would be done, and the week after mother left us, Jane North came +over, and I expected to hear some talk concerning it. + +She brought her knitting in a little gingham bag on her arm, and there +was no way to get rid of her or of her coming talk, which, I confess, I +dreaded. + +"Oh, dear!" I said to Clara, "that wretched meddler is coming. What +shall we do with her?" + +"I will try and help you, Emily. Perhaps she has a good heart after all, +and meddles only because her conditions in life have fitted her for +nothing better." + +"It isn't so, Clara; she tells stories about everybody; I would not +believe her under oath." + +"Charity," she said softly, and through the door came Jane. + +"Good afternoon, Emily." + +"Take a seat," I said, bowing. + +"Good afternoon, Mis' Densin," to Clara. + +"Mrs. _De-mond_," I said, pronouncing the name rather forcibly. + +"Oh! _De_-mond is it?" with accent on the first syllable + +"That is more like it," said Clara. "How do you do to-day? let me take +your things." + +"Don't feel very scrumptious, and ain't sick neither, kinder so so. How +are all here? I heard Mis' Minot was gone. Ain't you lonesome?" + +"We do miss her sadly," said Clara. + +"Gone to a weddin', ain't she?" I laughed aloud. + +"Only for a change," said Clara. + +"Why, Mis' Grover"-- + +Clara waited for no news, but said quickly: + +"You were very kind, thinking we were lonely, to come over and see. Come +into the other side of the house," and she led the way to her +sitting-room. + +"Oh! ain't this be-yoo-ti-ful! What a wonderful change from the old side +of this house! I declare, I should think Mr. Minot would be thankful +enough for this addition to his house." + +"Oh! I am the one to be thankful," said Clara, "he was so kind as to +build it for me." + +"Oh! he built it, hey; with his own money, did he?" + +"Certainly, he never would use any other person's. Cousin Minot in a +very nice man." + +"Is he your cousin?" said Jane in astonishment. + +"Why, of course he is. Did you not know of it?" + +"Never heard of it before." + +"What are you knitting?" said Clara. + +"Stockings," was the monosyllabled reply. + +"Did you ever knit silk?" + +"Shouldn't think I did. I ain't grand enough to afford that." + +"You could, though, I know," said Clara. + +"Why, I dunno,--praps so." Jane North was foiled, and she succumbed as +gracefully as she could, although awkwardly enough; but Clara went on: + +"I have some beautiful silk thread, I have had it for years. My +grandfather's people, over in France, were silk weavers. It is through +my mother that I am related to Mr. Minot; my father's people were +French," she said, noticing an incredulous look in the eyes of Jane. "I +have a lot of silk in thread and floss: I'll get the box and show it to +you," and she did. + +My own curiosity led me into the room--I had stood back of the door all +this time--and the silk was beautiful; rich dark shades and fancy colors +mingled, and a quantity of it too. Although kept so long, it was strong, +having been of such fine material. + +"Sakes alive! I should be scar't to death to own all that," said Jane. + +"Well," said Clara, "if you will show me how to knit some for myself, I +will be willing to scare you a little. I would like to give you enough +to make a pair or two of stockings for yourself. Chose your own colors," +and she emptied the contents of the box on the lounge at her side. + +"You don't mean it, Mis' De-mond." + +"Certainly I do, take any shade you prefer, and if Emily has needles, we +will go right to work on our cutting." + +The right string was touched, the cutting started, and when Jane North +left us, she whispered to me: + +"I like that woman, and I don't care whether she is a Baptist, or what +she is, she's a lady." + +Those stockings averted much, for her head was full of wonder talk. + +I reminded Clara of the indignation she felt at her expressions, when +she first saw her, and told her I did not suppose she ever would desire +to look at her again. + +"Why, Emily," she said, "I never feel like annihilating people whose +ideas are all wrong. They are but representatives at the most, and I +would rather desire to help these eaters of husks to find the true bread +that shall bring to them comfort and peace. I should wish to fill their +hearts so full that the rays of this inner light shall radiate around +them, touching with the magic of good deeds all the suffering our world +contains. This would leave no empty rooms in the house of our +understanding; all would be filled with tenants of good-will and loving +faith, bearing charity and love each toward the other; and uncultivated +fields would be found no more. I thought if I could touch Miss North in +the right spot, I might fill her mind, for a few brief hours at least, +with something beside her gossip. If this could be done every day in the +week, she would lose sight of it altogether, and like a tree engrafted +with better fruit, on these new thought-branches beautiful wisdom +apples might grow and ripen. If she comes again I will find something +as new to her, I hope, as I have found to-day." + +"What a wonderful compound you are, Clara," I said, "and what perfect +symmetry nature has given to you, while I am your antipodes." + +"What's that you are calling yourself?" said Aunt Hildy. + +"Oh, something just different from all that is good and true enough to +belong to Clara!" + +"'Pears to me you're gettin' some dretful big word now-a-days; when you +want me to understand you, talk plain English." + +Hal, who had entered that moment, laughed heartily. "So I say, Aunt +Hildy. Our Emily is going to be a blue-stocking, I fear. Housework will +suffer before long, for housework and book cannot go together." + +"No more than ploughs and plaster," I added. + +"Not a bit more, sister mine," and he passed his arm around my +waist,--he often did this now-a-days,--and whispered, "give me a chance +to say something to you." + +I nodded an assent, and he passed on through the room, whistling to +himself "Bonny Doon." I embraced the first opportunity to follow him, +and found him alone in his studio. He seated himself beside me, took one +hand in his and passed an arm around me. I wished he could have been my +lover then, in fact, I often wished it, for he was as good as he was +handsome, both noble hearted and noble looking. He was to me the +embodiment of all that was good and all that went to make the best man +in the world. + +"Emily," he began, "you have been a blessed sister to me; I have loved +you always, even though I plagued you so much, and you have been +faithful to me. I entrusted to you the first great secret of my life, +when I sought you under the apple tree." + +"Why could you not have told me more?" I said. + +"For the sole reason it would have been hard for you to have kept it +from mother, and I wanted to surprise you all at home. Your hand, Emily, +was the one that held the cup of life to my lips; and Louis," he added +in a tender tone, "with his sympathy and the power of his heart and +hand, led me slowly back to strength. Louis is a grand boy. Now, Emily," +and he drew me still closer, "I have something else to tell you." + +"Don't go away, Hal." + +"I desire to stay, but, Emily, I love Mary Snow. I want to tell you of +it. I cannot speak positively as to what may happen, but I love her very +dearly. Could you be glad to receive her as a sister?" + +Selfish thoughts arose at the thought of losing Hal, but I banished them +at once, and my heart spoke truly when I said: + +"Mary Snow is good enough for you, Hal. I have always liked her so much, +but how stupid I am, never to have dreamed of this." + +"No?" said he, as if surprised. "Never dreamed of it? Do you think it +strange that I should tell you, Emily? I have seen the time when it +would seem very silly to me, but I have learned to realize how great is +the tie that binds us, and I hope through all the years you and I will +never be apart. I ask of you, too, one promise. Do not tell even Clara, +and if ever you have such a secret, tell me frankly, for we should love +each other, and our joys should be mutual." + +I said not a word, but I thought of Louis, and I longed to show him the +chain and locket, which I constantly wore, but I could not, and I have +wished since that I might have been wiser. At this moment Mr. Benton +entered, and our position did not escape him. + +"Truly, Hal," he said, "you make a capital picture. Courting, eh?" + +"Call it that if you please; we are very near in spirit, thanks to the +Father." + +The thought of work came over me, and I left them to help about getting +supper. To be in Hal's confidence and to feel the trust he reposed in me +had made me very happy. Precious indeed did this seem to me, and if all +brothers and sisters were as near, how much of evil would be averted. +Young men might find at home the love and society they need, and less +temptation and fewer penalties to pay would be the good result. + +Mother's absence was nearly at an end, and father had gone on Saturday +to Aunt Phebe's to spend the Sabbath, and was to bring mother back on +Monday. + +Sabbath evening Hal went over to Deacon Snow's, Clara was in her room +writing to Louis, Ben reading in the kitchen, and I was left with Mr. +Benton in Hal's room. This night was never to be forgotten, for although +from time to time I had been forced to notice the great change in his +manner toward me, I was unprepared for what occurred, and unconscious +that he had so misunderstood and perverted my motives in that fated +talk. I cannot tell you all he said, nor how he said it, but I was +thoroughly confused and startled by his protestations, and could only +say: + +"Mr. Benton, I do not desire to hear this; I cannot understand it; you +have been mistaken," etc. + +To all of which he replied as if deeply pained, and I believed in his +sorrow and despised myself. I could not and did not tell him of Louis, +for when I thought of it, it seemed too sacred, and he had no right to +this knowledge. I was overwhelmed with strange and unpleasant feelings; +there was no satisfaction in the thought of having heard these +declarations; it was an experience I would fain have avoided. His talk +to Clara, too, came to my aid, and rallying a little, I said: + +"It is not long since you felt you could not live without the love of +Clara's heart; how strangely all your feelings must have changed. This +perplexes me, Mr. Benton." + +He raised his head from his hands--he had been sitting some moments in a +despairing attitude, evidently struggling with great emotion--and +answered: + +"It is natural that this should perplex you, and I am prepared for it. +Years of lonely waiting and yearning for the love of a true heart, have, +perhaps, made me seize too readily on any promise of hope and sympathy. +I was certainly fascinated with Mrs. Desmonde, and told her of my +feelings, prematurely as it proved, for the more I knew of her, the more +convinced I grew of her unfitness, I might almost say for earth, +although she still is beautiful to me. But you, Emily, are a woman of +strength and will, of a strength that will grow, for your years do not +yet number twenty-one; these years have already given you maturity and +power, and I respect and admire you, and I believe I could worship you +if you would let me." + +This was stranger talk than I could endure, and I broke out +passionately: + +"You need not ever try; I do not want you to, for I shall never love +you, and you are also old enough to be my father." I cannot tell why I +should have made this great mistake for which I immediately reproached +myself. + +The lines in Mr. Benton's face grew a little sharper, and the gleam of +his eye for a second was like a fierce light, and he answered gravely: + +"My years do number more, but in my heart I stand beside you. I would +have waited longer to tell you, but I am going away." I looked +wonderingly. "A friend is ill. I go to him; then to Chicago to see some +of our statuettes, and then if your parents will board me here, shall +return for the summer, unless," and his eyes dropped hopelessly, his +voice trembled, "unless," raising his eyes to mine appealingly, "I shall +be too unwelcome a friend to remain." + +Dear Hal and his art rose before me, and pity and love caused me to say: + +"Oh, come back, Mr. Benton! Hal needs you." + +"We will consider then that we are friends, Emily?" + +"Certainly," I said, glad enough to pass out of this door. Would it had +been wider! + +Advancing to me he took my hand, and said: + +"My friend always, if I may never hope for more. I leave to-morrow +morning, let us say good-bye here." + +This was a strange scene for a plain country girl like Emily Minot. +Don't blame me if I was bewildered, and if I failed for a moment to +think of the snake I had dreamed about: neither wonder that in this last +act in Mr. Benton's drama, he seemed to have gained some power over me. +He knew, for I was no adept at concealing, that he had won some vantage +ground, and that I blamed myself and pitied him. + +Morning came, and he left us, and Aunt Hildy said: "Gone with his great +eyes that allus remind me that still water runs deep. Can't see how +Halbert and that man can be so thick together." + +Matthias, who was there early, ready to go to work, said to himself as +the stage rolled away: "De Lord bless me, if dat man don't mos' allus +set me on de thinkin' groun. Pears like he's got two sides to hisself, +um, um." + +I heard this absent talk of Matthias', and also Aunt Hildy's words, and +I marvelled, saying in my heart, "Emily Minot, what will be done next?" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +PERPLEXITIES. + + +We were all glad to see mother, and she had enjoyed her visit, which had +improved her much. + +"Hope you haint done any work?" said Aunt Hildy. + +Mother said nothing, but when her trunk was unpacked she brought forth, +in triumph, a specimen of her handiwork. + +"Aunt Hildy," I called, "come and give her a scolding." + +She came, and with Clara and myself, was soon busy in trying to find out +how the mat--for this was the name of the article--was made. + +"How on airth did you do it, and what with?" + +"Why don't you find out?" said mother. + +"For only one reason, _I can't_," said Aunt Hildy. + +"It is made of pieces of old flannel and carpet that Phebe got hold of +somehow. We cut them bias and sewed them on through the middle, the +foundation being a canvas bag, leaving the edges turned up." + +"Well, I declare," said Aunt Hildy; "but you had no right to work." + +My mind was sorely troubled, and when, in about a week after Mr. +Benton's departure, I received a long letter from him, I felt worse than +before. I blamed myself greatly, and still these wrong steps I had taken +were all only sins of omission. It was for Clara's sake; for Hal's sake; +and last, but not least, I could not say to Mr. Benton, as I would have +wished to, that my love was in Louis' keeping, for you remember I had +met Louis' advances with fear, and he had said, "I will wait one year." +How could I then say positively what I did not know? Louis was growing +older, and my fears might prove all real, and I should only subject +myself to mortification, and at the same time, as I really believed, +cause Mr. Benton sorrow. + +"Poor Emily Minot," I said, "you must condole with yourself unless you +tell Halbert," and I resolved to do this at the first opportunity. + +Clara was delighted at Mr. Benton's absence. She went singing about our +house all the time, and the roses actually tried to find her cheeks. Our +days seemed to grow more filled and the hearts and hands were well +occupied. + +Hal was busy with his work and hopes, and I had been over with him to +see Mary, and had looked with them at the picture of their coming days. +I enjoyed it greatly. They were not going to be in haste, and Mary's +father was to talk with our people concerning the best mode of beginning +life. I think some people end it just where they hoped to begin. Mary +had a step-mother, who was thrifty, and that was all; her heart had +never warmed to infant caresses, and she would never know the love that +can be felt only for one's own. It was sad for her, and I can see now +how she suffered for this well-spring of joy which had never been found. +To Mary she was kind, but she could not give her the love she needed. +Mary was timid. Hal always called her his "fawn." It was a good name. He +made a beautiful statuette of her little self and christened it Love's +Fawn, and while he never really meant it should go into strange hands, +it crossed the Atlantic before he did, and received high +commendation--beautiful Mary Snow. + +Instead of my visit helping to open my secret to Hal, it seemed to close +the door upon it, and only a sigh came to my lips when I essayed to +speak of it. Once he asked me tenderly as we walked home: + +"It cannot be our happiness that hurts you, Emily?" + +"No--no," I said, "it gives me great joy to see you so happy." + +I told mother when he wished, and a talk ensued between her and father, +then a conference of families, and a conclusion that the marriage which +was to occur with the waning of September, should be followed, as the +two desired, by their going to housekeeping. + +Father had a plot of thirty acres in trust for Hal, and he proposed to +exchange some territory with him, that his house might be nearer ours. +Hal was named for Grandfather Minot, and was a year old when he died. In +a codicil to the will, grandfather had bequeathed to Hal these thirty +acres, which was more than half woodland. Hal was glad to make an +exchange with father, and get a few acres near home, while he would +still have nice woodland left. Acres of land then did not seem to be +worth so much to us, and it was a poor farmer in our section, who had +not forty or more acres, for our town was not all level plains, and +every land-owner must perforce have more or less of hill and stubble. +These new ideas of building and "fresh housekeeping" as Aunt Hildy said, +gave much to think about, and while Clara and I were talking together +with great earnestness one afternoon in April, we were surprised by a +letter of appeal from Louis. We, I say, for Clara read to me every +letter he sent her, and this began as follows: + +"Little mother, bend thy tender ear, and listen to thy 'dear boy' who +desires a great favor; think of it one week, and then write to him thou +hast granted it." + +The entire letter ran in this strain, and the whole matter was this: he +felt he could not stay in school his appointed time. He had done in +previous months more than twice the amount of work done by any one +student, and when the vacation came with the coming in of July, he would +stay with the professor through the month, and thus work up to a certain +point in his studies, then he wanted a year of freedom, and at its +close, he would go back and finish any and every branch Clara desired +him to. + +"Emily," said Clara, "he will be twenty-one next January, but he will be +my boy still, and he will not say nay, if I ask him to return again. I +have expected this. If Louis Robert had not left so strong a message--" +and she folded her hands, and with her head bent, she sat in deep +thought and motionless for more than half an hour. Then rousing +suddenly, said: + +"It will be well for him, I shall send the word to-morrow." + +My heart beat gladly for in these days, I longed for Louis. Thoughts of +Mr. Benton vanished at the sight of Louis' picture, and his letter I did +not answer. He wrote again. The third time inclosed one in an envelope +addressed to Hal, who looked squarely at me when he handed it to me, and +afterward said: + +"Emily, do you love Will?" + +I shook my head, and came so near telling him, but I did not, and again +committed the sin of omission. + +While all these earthly plans were being formed about us, the stirring +of thought with the people on religious matters grew greater. Regularly +now several of our people went ten miles to the church where we heard +Mr. Ballou. A donation party for our minister was to be given the last +day of April, and the air was rife with conjectures. Jane North made her +appearance, and her first salutation was: + +"Good afternoon, Mis' Minot. Going to donation next Monday night?" + +"I think so," was mother's quiet reply. + +"Well, I'm glad: s'pose there's a few went last year that wouldn't carry +anything to him now?" + +Aunt Hildy stepped briskly in and out of the room, busy at work, and +taking apparently no notice of the talk, when Clara came again to the +front with: + +"Oh! come this way, Miss North, I have something to say, these good +people will excuse us." + +"Oh! yes," said mother, and they went. I could not follow them for I was +busy. Two hours after, I entered Clara's sitting-room, and Jane sat as +if she had received an important message from some high potentate, +which she was afraid of telling. She sat knitting away on her silk +stockings, and talked as stiffly, saying the merest things. Clara left +the room a few moments, and then she said: + +"Ain't she jist a angel; she's give me the beautifullest real lace +collar for myself, and three solid linen shirts for our minister; said +per'aps she should'nt go over; and two or three pieces of money for his +wife, and a real beautiful linen table-cloth; you don't care if I take +'em, do you?" + +"Oh, no!" I said, "Mrs. Desmonde is the most blessed of all women." + +"_So she is_, but here she comes," and again Jane sat covered with new +dignity. It was rather a heavy covering, but I thought of Clara's +philosophy and said to myself, "Another batch of scandal pushed aside." +This way of Clara's to help people educate themselves to rise above the +conditions which were to them as clinging chains, was to me beautiful. +If all could understand it, it would not be long before our lives would +unfold so differently. "_Emily will help me._" These words came full +often before me, and now if I could only see my way through the +difficulties which entangled me, then my hands would, perhaps, led by +her, touch some strings which might vibrate sweetly. Then, and not till +then, could I be satisfied, and unconscious of any presence, I sang +aloud: + +"How long, oh, Lord! how long?" + +"Dat's de berry song I used to sing down thar, an' I dunno as I could +'spected any sooner," said Matthias, who came in unexpectedly. + +"Oh, Matthias!" I said, "do you know I believe your people will all go +free?" + +And his large, honest eyes opened widely, as he said: + +"'Way down in yer, I feel sometimes like I see freedom comin' right down +on de wings of a savin' angel, and den I sings down in dat yer grown' +room, Miss; I sings dat ole cabin-meetin' song, 'Jes' lemme get on my +long white robe, and ride in dat golden chariot in de mornin' right +straight to New Je-ru-sa-lem.' 'Pears like I get great notions, Miss +Emily." + +"The Lord will hear you as well as me, Matthias, and some day slavery +will die. What a good time there will be then above there," said I, +pointing upward. + +"Yes," said he, "good for de righteous, but dat old Mas'r Sumner, he'll +jes' be down thar 'mong dem red-hot coals." + +"Oh, Matthias!" I said, "there are no red-hot coals." + +"Sure, Miss, I dunno but dat 'pears like I can't hab hevin' wid dat man +thar." + +"He will be changed and good." + +"Can't think so. Dat man needs dat fire; preachin' could'nt do him no +good, noway." + +"We will agree to let each other think as they feel, but our Father must +love all his children." + +"Ef dat's so," said he thoughtfully, "I hope he'll hab more'n one room +for us, rather be mos' anywhar dan in sight ob dat man," and he trudged +off with his literal Heaven and Hades before him. + +Poor ignorant heart! let him hold to these thoughts; he cannot dream of +a love so liberal as that which delights my heart to think of; he cannot +know that we, being God's children, must inherit some of his eternal +goodness, and that little leaven within will be the salvation of us all +through time that knows no end. Poor Matthias! his eyes will be opened +over there; and tears filled my own at the glorious prospect waiting. He +was living in his ground room truly. + +The donation came off happily. Our minister had been many years with us, +and was a good man, to the extent of his light, and worthy of all we +could bestow on him. He owned a small farm, and had also practised a +little in medicine, and had always tried to do his duty. I suppose his +fiery sermons were preached honestly, and that his duty, as Clara said, +led him to hang out a signal lantern. To me it was a glow-worm light, +that only warned me in a different direction, and although my fierce +treatment of that Christmas sermon was past, down deep in my heart +strong truths had been planted. I felt I must have a talk with both my +pastor and my father before I could again partake of the communion. + +Clara did not go with us to the donation. We went after supper, meeting +at the house about six P.M., and stayed until nine. Many good +and sensible gifts were brought them, and Clara's was not least among +them. Jane North proudly displayed the four five dollar gold pieces, and +descanted long on "such fine linen," and that beautiful lady who sent +it. + +Several said to us: "Why, we didn't know as you would come"--to which I +said: + +"Oh, yes! of course we proposed to come;" and for once I was wise enough +not to ask why. I told Clara, she certainly had planted good seed, for +not one word of scandal escaped the lips of Jane that evening, only +praise of the beautiful Mis' Desmonde. + +It was only a few days after the donation, that Mr. Davis, our minister, +came over to spend the evening, and we had a long talk, one that ended +better than I anticipated. When he came he inquired particularly for +Clara, who insisted on our going into her sitting-room, and all but Hal +followed her thither, his steps, after supper, turning as usual toward +the house of his "fawn." + +Mr. Davis alluded to his donation visit, and he desired especially to +thank Clara for her most welcome offers to his wife and himself, adding, +"And the greatest wonder to me is that the shirts fit me so well." + +"You know my dear boy is a man in size," said Clara, "I thought they +would be right, and he has now left four more that are new and like the +ones I sent you, but please do not thank me so much, Miss North did me +full justice in that line." + +"She was a willing delegate, then?" said Mr. Davis. + +"Oh, very!" said Clara, "and she is a lonely soul in the world." + +"So she is, more lonely than she need be if our people could understand +her," he replied; "but I confess my own ignorance there, for I never +seemed to know just what to say to her." + +"Clara does," said I, but Clara looked, "Emily don't," and I said no +more. + +At last the conversation turned on religious matters, and to my +surprise, Mr. Davis came to explain himself instead of asking +explanations, as I had expected. + +"I have understood," said he, "that you, Mr. Minot, think my sermon +alluding to false doctrines, and also the one in which I spoke of +preachers of heresy, were particularly directed to you, and that I +believed you had done very wrong in leaving for one Sabbath your own +church to hear a minister that preaches new and strange things." + +"I never have intimated as much, Mr. Davis. I did suppose you intended +some of the remarks in your last sermon should apply directly to myself +and family; but of the first one, I had only one idea. As I have before +said to you, the thought of a burning hell always makes me shudder. I +never could conceive of such torture at the hand of a wise and loving +God. If there is punishment awaiting the unrighteous, it is not of +literal fire. I am well persuaded of this, for if it were a literal +fire, a body would soon be consumed; hence, the punishment could not be +endless as supposed; while upon a spiritual body, it could have no +effect. The fire in the stove burns my finger, but touches not my soul." + +"You know the tenets of our belief embrace both eternal comfort and +eternal misery," said Mr. Davis; "it is what we are taught." + +"I know," said my father. "I have considered my church obligations +seriously, and am prepared to say, if it is inconsistent for me, in the +eyes of my preacher or of his people, that I, holding these thoughts, +should remain in fellowship with them as before, I can only say I have +grown strong enough now to stand alone, and I should think I ought to +stand aside. I cannot see why we may not agree on all else." + +"I believe we do; I respect your opinions, Mr. Minot; we cannot afford +to lose you either. May I ask with what denomination you would propose +to unite?" + +"None at all," said my father, "unless the road comes clearer before me. +I love our old meeting-house, Mr. Davis; my good old father played the +violin there for years, and when a youth, I stood with him and played +the bass viol, while my brother, now gone, added the clear tones of the +clarionet, and the voice of my sweet sister Lucy could be heard above +all else, in the grand old hymns 'Silver Street' and 'Mear.'" At these +recollections my father's voice choked with emotion, and strange for +him, tears fell so fast he could say no more. + +"Brother Minot," said Mr. Davis, rising to his feet and taking his hand, +his eyes looking upward, "let the God who seeth in secret hold us still +as brothers; keep your pew in the old church. This one difference of +opinion can have no weight against either of us. This is all the church +meeting we need or will have, and if I ever judge you falsely, may I +_be_ thus judged." + +Aunt Hildy said: "Amen, Brother Davis, your good sense will lead you out +of the ditch, that's certain." + +Clara's eyes were looking as if fixed on a far-off star. She was lost in +gazing, the thin white lids covered her beautiful eyes for a moment or +two, then she turned her pure face toward Mr. Davis, and said: + +"It is good for us all to be wise, and it is not easy to obey the +scriptural injunction, 'Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.' +Ever growing, the human mind must reach with the tendrils of its thought +beyond the confines of to-day. The intuition of our souls, this Godlike +attribute which we inherit directly from our Father, is ever seeking to +be our guide. None can be so utterly depraved that they have not +sympathy either in one way or another with its utterances. Prison bars +and dungeon cells may hold souls whose central thoughts are pure as +noon-day; and sometimes hard-visaged men, at the name of home and +mother, are baptized in tears. The small errors of youth lead along the +way to greater crimes, and I sometimes ask myself if it is not true that +living with wants that are not understood, causes men to seek the very +things their souls do not desire, and they are thus led into deep +waters. If Mr. Minot's soul reaches for a God of compassion and mercy, +is it not because that soul whispers its need of this great love; and if +it asks for this, will it not be found; for can it be possible with this +spark of God within us, the living soul can desire that which is not +naturally designed for it? + +"Why, my dear friends," she continued, "this is the great lesson we need +to make us, on this earth, all that we might and should be. It is not +true that the thought of eternal love will warrant us in making mistakes +here; on the contrary, it will help us to see all the beauty of our +world, and to link our lives as one in the chain which binds the present +to the enduring year of life to come. Duty would be absolute pleasure, +and all they who see now no light beyond the grave, would by this +unerring hand be led to the mountain top of truth's divine and eternal +habitation. In your soul, Mr. Davis, you ask and long for this. +Doctrinal points confuse you when you think upon them, and you have lain +aside these thoughts and said, 'the mysteries of godliness may not be +understood;' but my dear sir, if this be true, why are we told to be +perfect even as our 'Father in Heaven is perfect;' for would not that +state be godly, and could there be mysteries or fear connected with it?" + +"_Never, never_," said Aunt Hildy. + +Then, with her hands stretched appealingly toward him, Clara said: + +"Oh, sir, do not thrust this knowledge from the door of your heart! Let +it enter there. It will warm your thoughts with the glow of its +unabating love, and you will be the instrument in God's hand of doing +great good to his children." + +She dropped her hands, the tender lids covered again those wondrous +eyes, and we sat as if spell-bound, wrapt in holy thought. + +"Let us pray," said Mr. Davis, and we knelt together. + +Never had I heard him pray like this, and I shall ever remember the last +sentences he uttered; "Father, if what thy handmaid says be true, give +me, oh, I pray thee, of this bread to eat, that my whole duty may be +performed, and when thou shall call him hither, may thy servant depart +in peace." + +Mr. Davis shook hands with us all just as the clock tolled nine, and to +Clara he said: + +"Sister, angels have anointed thee; do thy work." + +This was a visit such as might never occur again. Truly and strangely +our life was a panorama all these days. I dreamed all night of Clara and +her thoughts, and through her eyes that were bent on me in that realm of +dreams, I read chapters of the life to come. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +LOUIS RETURNS. + + +It would be now only a few days to Mr. Benton's return, and I dreaded +it, never thinking of him without a shudder passing over me; Aunt Hildy +would have called it "nervous creepin'." I felt that this was wrong, and +especially so since I knew I was thus hindered in the well-doing for +which I so longed. + +"Happiness comes from the inner room," said Aunt Hildy; "silver and gold +and acres of land couldn't make a blind man see." + +Her comparisons were apt, and her ideas pebbles of wisdom, clear and +white, gathered from experience and polished by suffering. Both she and +Clara were books which I read daily. How differently they were written! +and then how different from both was the wisdom of a mother whose light +seemed daily to grow more beautiful. It seemed when I thought of it as +if no one had ever such good teachers. And now if I could only break +these knots which had been tangled through Mr. Benton's misunderstanding +of me, there seemed no reasonable excuse for not progressing. Church +affairs had been happily regulated, so far as Mr. Davis and our few +nearer friends were concerned, and the sermon on good deeds which he +preached the Sabbath after his visit to us was more than worthy of him. + +Clara said, "He talked of things he really knew; facts are more +beautiful than fancies." + +"And stand by longer," added Aunt Hildy. + +Louis was to come on the first of July, his mother not deeming it +advisable for him to study through that month; but Mr. Benton preceded +him and came the first day of June. It was a royal day, and he entered +the door while the purplish tinge of sunset covered the hills and lay +athwart the doorway. + +"Home again," was his first salutation. + +"Very welcome," said Hal and father; mother met him cordially, and I +came after them with Clara at my side, and only said: + +"How do you do, Mr. Benton?" + +He grasped my hand and held it for an instant in a vice-like grasp. I +darted a look of reproof at him, and the abused look he wore at our last +talk came back and settled on his features. + +It seemed to me the more I tried to keep out of his way the more fate +would compel me to go near him. Hal was very busy, and it seemed as if +Clara had never spent so much time in her own room as now, when I needed +her so much. Mother was not well, and every afternoon took a long nap, +so I was left down stairs, and no matter which side of the house I was +in he was sure to find me. The third day after his arrival he renewed +his pleading, trying first to compliment me, saying: + +"What a royal woman you are, and how queenly you look with your massive +braids of midnight hair fastened with such an exquisite comb!" (Louis' +gift). + +"Midnight hair," I said. "I've seen many a midnight when I could read in +its moonlight; black as a crow would be nearer the truth," and I +laughed. + +The next sentence was addressed to my teeth. He liked to see me laugh +and show my teeth; they looked like pearls. + +"I wish they were," I said, "I'd sell them and buy a nice little house +for poor Matthias to live in." + +"Ugh!" he said, and looked perfectly disgusted; but he was not, for he +said more foolish things, and at last launched out into his sober +sentiment. Oh, dear, if I could have escaped all this! + +"Have you not missed me? You have not said it." + +"I have not missed you at all," I said, "and I do wish you would believe +it." + +"You have no welcome, then, no particular words of welcome?" + +"Mr. Benton, you know I am a country girl." + +"Yes, but you remind me of a city belle in one way. You gather hearts +and throw them away as recklessly as they do, throwing smiles and using +your regal beauty as a fatal charm. I must feel, Miss Minot, that it +would have saved me pain had we never met." + +This touched a tender spot. "Mr. Benton," I cried, "cease your foolish +talk, you know that I never tried to captivate you, that I take no +pleasure in an experience like this. You say that I am untrue to myself, +false to my highest perception of right and justice. If you claim for me +what you have said, you do not believe it, Wilmur Benton; you know in +your soul you speak falsely." + +"Why, Emily," he said, "you are imputing to me what you are unwilling +to bear yourself; do you realize it?" + +"I think I do," I replied, "and further proof is not needed to convince +me." + +"Really, this is a strange state of affairs, but (in a conciliatory +tone), perhaps I spoke too impulsively, I cannot bear your anger; +forgive me, Emily." + +"Well," I answered merely. + +"Can you forget it all?" he said. + +"I will see," I replied, and just then I saw Halbert coming over the +hill, and I was relieved from further annoyance. I cannot say just how +this affected me. I felt in one sense free, but still a sense of +heaviness oppressed me and all was not clear. My mental horizon was +clouded, and I could see no signs of the clouds drifting entirely away, +but on one point I was determined. I would give no signs of even pity +for Mr. Benton, even should I feel it as through days I looked over my +words and thoughts. He should not have even this to hold in his hand as +a weapon against me. I would say nothing to Hal, for Louis would come, +and in the fall, the year of his waiting would be at an end. He would +tell me again of his great love, and I would yield to him that which was +his. Oh, Louis, my confidence in your blessed heart grows daily +stronger! + +While these thoughts were running through my mind, Matthias' voice was +heard, a moment more and he was saying: + +"Guess he's done gone sure dis time; he drink an fiddle, an fiddle an' +drink; and nex' ting I knowed he's done dar at the feet of dem stars all +in a heap by hisself." + +"Who's that?" I cried. + +"Plint, Miss. He's done gone, sure, an' I came roun' to get some help +'bout totin' him up stars. Can't do nothin', an' Mis' Smith she's jes +gone scart into somebody else. She don't 'pear to know nuthin', an' when +I say help me, she jest stan' an' holler like mad." + +"I'll go over," said Aunt Hildy, wiping her hands, and turning for sun +bonnet and cape. + +"I'll go," said Hal. + +"Me, too," cried Ben, and off they started. + +Poor Plint was gone, surely enough; dead, "a victim to strong drink and +fiddlin'," Aunt Hildy said. His funeral was from the church, for we all +respected Aunt Peg and pitied Plint, and Mr. Davis only spoke of God's +great mercy and his tenderness to all his flock; never putting a word of +endless torment in it. + +Poor Aunt Peg had great misgivings concerning Plint, and groaned audibly +throughout the entire service. Matthias was a great comfort to her +through her trouble, and she told Clara and me when we called on her, +that he was not as clean as she wished, but he was a mighty comfort to +her, and the greatest blessing Aunt could have sent. Plint's fiddle hung +against the wall in her little room with whitened floor and +straight-back chairs, and I could not keep back the tears when I noticed +that she had a bunch of wild violets tied to the old bow. She noticed it +and burst into tears herself, crying: + +"That there fiddle was no use no way, but seems now I kinder reckon on +'t." She was true to these intuitions of the soul, these thoughts that +cover tenderly even the remembrance of a wasted life, and we could not +but think that if Plint had not loved cider so well, he might perhaps +have developed rare musical talent. + +I had been true to myself as far as Mr. Benton was concerned, and since +our last stormy interview, treated him with respectful indifference. He +had two or three times attempted to bring about a better state of +affairs, but I could not and did not give him any encouragement. I felt +wronged and also justified in the establishment of myself where I should +be safe from greater trouble at his hands. + +The first day of July, the day for Louis' coming, dawned auspiciously, +and I was as happy as a bird. It seemed to me my trouble was nearly +over, and Louis, when he came in at our door that night, looked +admiringly at me, and after supper he said: + +"Emily, you are growing beautiful, do you know it?" + +"I hope so," I said honestly, "you know how homely I have always been." + +"No, no, I do not, you have been to me my royal Emily ever since I first +met you." + +"I must have compared strangely with your city friends and their +bewildering costumes." + +"It was more strange than you know; you made the picture and they were +the background," he said, and I thought, perhaps, he was going to cut +short the year of waiting and say more. Instead, he looked off over the +hills, and held my hand tighter. We were in Hal's room, and Mr. Benton +entered, saying with great joy in his tones: + +"Louis, I have made a success, take a little walk with me and I will +tell you about it." + +Louis looked at me a moment, as if to tell me it is the picture, and +with a tender light in his eyes, went out under the sky, which was +beautiful with the last tinge of sunset clinging to it, as if loath to +leave its wondrous blue to the rising moon and stars. + +As they passed out, I thought I saw Matthias coming, but must have been +mistaken, as he did not appear. An hour passed and Louis and Mr. Benton +returned, the latter looking wonderfully satisfied and happy, Louis +thoughtful, and I should have thought him sad had I not known of Clara's +picture. + +The days passed happily, but through them all I was not as happy as I +had expected. Louis must be sick, I thought; he was so quiet, and almost +sad. Perhaps he had met with less, and I longed to ask him but could +not. I was annoyed also by Mr. Benton, who would not fail to embrace +every opportunity that offered, to talk with me alone, holding me in +some way, for moments at a time. If I was dusting in Hal's studio, and +this was a part of my daily duties, he was sure to be there, and several +times Louis came in when we were talking together, I busy at work and +Mr. Benton standing near. + +Clear through the months that led us up to the door of October, these +almost daily annoyances troubled me. It was not love-making, for since +the day of my righteous indignation he had not ventured to approach me +on that ground; but any thought which came over him, sometimes regarding +his pictures and sometimes a saying of Aunt Hildy's,--anything which +could be found to talk upon, it seemed to me, he made a pretext to +detain me, and since he did this in a gentlemanly manner, how could I +avoid it! It was a perfect bore to me, and yet I thought it too foolish +a trouble to complain of. That was not the summer full of joy to which I +had been looking, but it was full of work and care, and over all the +mist of uncertainty. + +Hal's house had been built; it was a charming little nest, just enough +room for themselves and with one spare chamber for company. + +"Don't git too many rooms nor too big ones," said Aunt Hildy. "If six +chairs are enough, twenty-five are a bother. One loaf of bread at a time +is all we want to eat. I tell you, Halbert, you can't enjoy more'n you +use; don't get grand idees that'll put your wife into bondage. There are +all kinds of slavery in this world," and between every few words a +milk-pan went on the buttery shelf. She always worked and preached +together. + +Hal had a nice room for his work; then they had a sitting-room, kitchen +and bedroom down stairs, and two chambers. It was a cottage worth +owning, and Clara, as usual, did something to help. + +"Allus putting her foot down where it makes a mark," said Aunt Hildy. + +She furnished Hal's room entirely, and gave Mary so many nice and +necessary things that they were filled with thanksgiving. The marriage +ceremony was performed at Deacon Snow's, and I cried every moment. I sat +between Louis and Clara, notwithstanding Mr. Benton urged a seat upon me +next himself; and on our return home he appeared to think I needed his +special care, but I held close to Clara, and Louis, whose arm was his +little mother's support, walked between us. He was sadly thoughtful, +saying little. + +The wedded pair left our town next morning for a brief visit with Mary's +friends, and returned in a few days to their little house, which was all +ready for occupancy. Aunt Hildy and mother had put a "baking of +victuals," according to Aunt Hildy, into the closet, and the evening of +their return their own supper table was ready, with mother, Clara, Louis +and me in waiting. Louis remarked on Mr. Benton's coming over, and I +forgot myself and said, in the old way: + +"Can't we have one meal in peace?" + +Mother said: + +"Why, Emily, you are losing your mind; what would Hal think if Mr. +Benton were left alone?" + +Father and Ben came over, but not till after supper, and Aunt Hildy +persisted in staying at home and doing her duty. + +"Let him come, and stay, too," I added, still feeling vexed; and how +strangely Louis looked as Mr. Benton came in. "Fairy land," he said. + +Mother made some reply, but I sat mute as my thought could make me. + +The stage came. Our first supper was pleasant both as a reality and as a +type of their future. Hal and Mary were truly married, and through the +ensuing years their lives ran on together merged as one. When we stopped +to think over the years since his boyhood, to remember the comparatively +few advantages he had enjoyed, the ill luck of my father in his early +years, and his tired, discouraged way which followed,--it was hard to +realize the facts as they were. Grandma Northrop often prophesied of +Hal, saying to mother: + +"That boy's star will rise. I know his good luck will more than balance +his father's misfortune, and in your old age you will see him handsomely +settled in life." + +It seemed as if the impulse of his youth had all tended to bring him +where the light could shine on his art, and from the time he entered Mr. +Hanson's employ his good fortune was before him. There is another +thought runs by the side of this, and that is one induced by the +knowledge of the great power of gold. Mr. Hanson was a man of wealth and +good business relations. Liking Hal for himself, and interested in his +art, it was easy for him to open many doors for the entrance of his +work. Mr. Benton was a help to Hal in his art, and his reward was +immediate almost, for Hal had told me Will's pieces had never been +appreciated as now. It was astonishing, too, how many people had money +to buy these expensive treasures,--but the sea was smooth. + +"Every shingle on the house paid for," said Aunt Hildy; "aint that the +beginning that ought to end well?" + +And now the road of the future lay, as a fair meadowland, whose flowers +and grasses should be gathered through the years. Truly life is +strangely mixed. + +The look of perplexing anxiety had vanished from my father's face, for +with Hal's prospects his own had grown bright, and you cannot know how +Clara lifted him along, as it were; paying well and promptly and saving +in so many ways, was a wondrous help to a farmer's family. There was +also the prospect of a new street being opened through the centre of the +town, and if my father wished he could sell building lots on one side of +it, for it would run along the edge of his land. + +"Trouble don't never come single-handed, neither does prosperity, Mr. +Minot," said Aunt Hildy. + +"Love's Fawn" was a famous little housekeeper, everything was in good +order, and I certainly found a well-spring of joy in the society of +these two. If Mary needed any extra help, Hal said, "Emily will do it." +This was a very welcome change from the old saying. + +Ben was a daily visitor, and spoke of sister Mary with great pride. He +was a good boy and willing. Hal felt anxious to help him, if he desired +it, by giving him more schooling, but he was a farmer born, and his +greatest ambition was to own a farm and have a saw mill. He went to the +village school, and had as good an education as that could give, for he +was not dull. I was glad for his sake he liked farming; it seemed to me +a true farmer ought to be happy. Golden and crimson leaves were +fluttering down from the forest trees, for October had come upon us and +nearly gone, and while all prospects for living were full of cheer, I +felt a great wonder creeping over me, and with it, fear. Louis had said +no word to me as yet, and could it be he had forgotten the year was at +an end? Surely not. Could his mind have changed? Oh, how this fear +troubled me! He was as kind as ever, but he said much less to me, and +seemed like one pre-occupied. One chance remark of Clara's brought the +color to my cheeks, as we sit together. + +"Louis, my dear boy, what is it? A shadow crossed your face just then." + +He looked surprised, and only half answered: + +"The shadow of yourself. I was thinking about you." + +Mr. Benton did not talk of leaving us; he had some unfinished pieces, +and my father had said: + +"Remain as long as you please, if my wife is willing." + +After Hal left, I felt his studio marred by Mr. Benton's presence, for +he had become a perfect torture to me, and I began to believe he +delighted in it, secretly. Then again, I had the room to attend to, and +I must in consequence be annoyed. Of this I was tired, and when day +after day passed and brought no word from Louis, save in common with the +rest, I said, hopelessly: + +"Let it go. I will try to love no one but father and mother and Clara +and Hal, and oh, dear! when shall I ever be ready to say, 'Now Clara, +let me help you'?" + +She said to me through these days I was not happy. "Wild flower, what +troubles thee?" one day, and again, "Emily, my royal Emily, art thou +sighing for wings?" + +November came and passed, and the gates of the new year were opening, +still all the way lay dark before me. Night after night my tear-stained +pillow told my sorrow mutely, and day after day I sighed. Mother was not +well, and I felt that everything was wrong. I was worrying myself sick, +I knew, and could not help it. + +It was a cold, bitter day, and in my heart lay bitter thoughts when +Matthias came over to tell us, that "Peg was right sick, 'pears like +she's done took sick all in a minit, onions and onions, mustard and +mustard, an nothin' don't do no good. Here's a piece of paper I foun' in +de road, 'pears like you mus' want it," and he handed it to me. + +I put it in my pocket and went to ask Aunt Hildy what to do for Aunt +Peg. She proposed to go over, and Ben went with her. + +While they were gone I read the paper, which proved to be a letter, +evidently written to Mr. Benton, and the signature was plainly, "your +heart-broken Mary," I could only pick out half sentences, but read +enough to show me the treachery and sorrow, aye, more, a life cursed +with shame, and at the hands of Wilmur Benton. + +"Thank God," I cried aloud--I was in the sitting-room alone--and then +tears fell hot and fast, and I sobbed and cried as if I had found a wide +white path that led from the night of my discontent, out into the +morning of the day called peace. I could not stay there and cry, I must +pass Clara's door to go to my room, and throwing a shawl over my +shoulders I rushed out, and fairly flew over the frozen ground to that +dear old apple tree. What a strange place to go to, standing under those +bare limbs, or rather walking to and fro, but I could not help it! This +same old tree had heard my cries and seen my tears for years. I covered +my face with both hands, and wept aloud. I could not have been there +long, when I felt a presence, and Louis was beside me. + +Putting an arm around me, he said tenderly, "Come in, Emily." + +"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I cannot, they will see my face, what shall I do? +how came you here?" and I still kept crying and sobbing as if my heart +would break. + +"Why Emily, my royal Emily, come into little mother's room,--she has +lain down,--and tell me why you weep." + +I yielded gratefully, not gracefully, and we were seated alone, all +alone, and he was saying to me: + +"Emily, tell me what it is, you have troubled me so long, your eyes have +grown so sad. Oh! Emily, my darling, may I not know your secret sorrow? +I can wait longer, my year has flown, and three months more, and still +my heart is waiting; tell me your sorrow, and then let me say to you +what I have waited in patience to repeat." + +It was not a dream, my heart beat like a bird, and I could tell him, +only too gladly. "Emily will do it." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +EMILY FINDS PEACE. + + +As soon as I could control my voice I said, "I cannot tell you why I cry +so bitterly. I felt so strangely when I read this terrible letter, which +Matthias had picked up in the road and given to me. Instead of sorrow +covering me, as would seem natural, sorrow for another, not myself, I +said, 'thank God,' for it seemed as if I had looked at something that +would lead me from darkness to light. I have been so miserable, Louis; +Mr. Benton has tormented me so long, that I have been filled with +despair, and I begin to believe I shall never be worth anything again; +oh! I am grieving so, and yet feel such a strange joy;" and I shook as +if with ague. + +Louis looked as if wonder-struck, and holding both my hands in one of +his, drew my head to his shoulder, and with his arm still round me, put +his hand on my forehead. + +"Your head is like fire, Emily; the first thing is for you to get quiet; +a terrible mistake has been made, and we may give thanks for the help +that has strangely come." + +I knew it would appear but did not know how. I still grieved and sighed +and was trying hard to control myself. + +"Emily," said Louis, in a tone of gentle authority, "do not try to hold +on to yourself so; just place more confidence in my strength and I will +help your nerves to help themselves, for you see these nerves you are +trying to force into quiet, are only disturbed by your will. Let the +rein fall loosely, it will soon be gathered up, for when you are quiet +you will be strong, and the harder you pull the more troubled you will +be. You must lean on me, Emily, from this day on as far as our earthly +lives shall go--you are mine. It is blessed to claim you." + +I tried to do as he said, and after a little, the strength he gave crept +over me like a tide that bore me up at last; my grieving nerves were +still, but my face was pale, as he said again: + +"Now, Emily, let me hear from your own lips, 'I love you, Louis,'" and +his dark eyes turned to meet my own, which were filled with tears that +were not bitter--holy tears that welled from the fountain of my tired +and grateful heart. + +"I do love you, Louis--and Louis," I cried, forgetting again, +impetuously, "I thought you had forgotten. I have suffered so long and +you did not know it, and I dared not tell." + +"Emily should have done it, but never mind, you say you love me, and +shall it be as I desire? will you be my wife, Emily?" + +I bowed my head and he continued: + +"Thank you, Emily, and I do hope that listening angels hear and know it +all. Their love shall sanction ours, and we will do all we can for each +other, and also for those who unlike us see not the love, the comfort, +and the faith they need. Now you shall be my Emily,--you are christened; +this is your royal title,--my Emily through all the years." + +Oh, how glad I felt! From the depths of my spirit rose so strong and +full the tide of feeling that told me one love was perfect, and it cast +out fear. + +I said: "Louis, let us wait. Do not look at the dreadful letter now, it +will mar this pleasant picture which rests me so, and I have been tired +too long. I hope I may never again have to say to myself, 'Emily did +it,' or its companion sentence, 'Poor Emily did not do it.' Let me +breathe a little first, for I shall be again wrought up." + +"Perhaps not," said Louis. + +"Oh! I must be, it cannot be avoided, there is a dark passage through +which we must pass, but if we go together it will not be so hard." + +"As you say, my Emily," and at that moment Clara entered. + +"Come in, little mother," said Louis, "come in and seal my title for +your royal cousin with a motherly kiss, for she has promised to be my +wife--my Emily through time." + +And she glided toward us, kissed my forehead tenderly, and then taking a +hand of each in one of hers, she turned her eyes upward and said: + +"Father, bless my children; they were made for each other. May their +lives and love continue, ever as thine, through endless time. Let our +hearts be united and thy will be ours," and she knelt on the floor at +our feet, her head resting in my lap, and her hand in Louis', whose +face was radiant with the thoughts which sought expression in his +features. I marvelled, as I looked on his beauty, that plain Emily Minot +could have become so dear to him. + +The thought of father's fear, too, came over me, and while we were thus +in thoughtful silence, the old corner clock gave warning of the supper +hour being near, and I said: + +"The supper I must see to, Louis." + +He smiled and said: + +"My Emily can get supper, I know, for she makes both bread and butter, +and is loyal to her calling ever, as to her lover." + +Mr. Benton looked sharply at me during the meal, and it seemed to me as +if my eyes betrayed the thought which, filled my heart. Aunt Hildy had +returned from her errand of mercy, and she said it was "nervous +rheumatiz." + +"Poor creature, she's broke down with her hard work." + +"Perhaps she'll marry that old fellow, Mat Jones," said Mr. Benton. +"He'd make a good husband if she isn't too particular," and he laughed +as if he thought his remark suggestive of great cunning. No one gave it +even a smile. He did not like Matthias, and often spoke slurringly of +him. This was strange, for I could see no harm coming to him from this +harmless soul who was good and true and faithful as the sun. He was to +us the very help we needed, and father could entrust the care of his +work to him whenever he desired to rest a day, or it was necessary for +him to be absent from home. This was no small consideration, and well +appreciated by those who knew what the care and work of life on a farm +meant. Mr. Benton's remark called forth from Louis after a time one +concerning the great evil of slavery. + +"And if we suffer from any error this race commit, we must remember it +is our own people who have brought it to us," said he. "Africa never +would have come to us." + +Mr. Benton, apparently nettled, said: + +"I imagine you would not enjoy a drove of these people in your care. I +had a little taste of the South during two years of my life, and my word +for it, Louis, they are not attractive creatures to be tormented with. +They are a perfect set of stubborn stupidities, and driving is the only +thing to suit them, depend on it." + +Louis looked more than he said, only recalling that the blame for this +could not rest on the slave alone. "I do not imagine I could enjoy +slave-owning. I feel the majority of slave-owners lower themselves until +they stand beneath the level of the brutes." + +Father said, "It is all wrong." + +Aunt Hildy added, "All kind of bondage is ungodly, and the days will +bring some folks to knowledge." + +"Out of the depth into the light," said Clara, and our meal was over. + +The days flew by on wings, each wing a promise, and it was a week after +we plighted our vows ere I felt ready to read that letter and hear what +Louis had to say. Then something came to prevent, and another week had +passed when Louis said: + +"My Emily, I must have a talk with your father and mother. I cannot +feel quite satisfied, and it is only right they should be consulted, for +you are their own good girl. I would wait for their hearts to say, 'take +her,' if I waited years, but then, my Emily, it is neither giving nor +taking, for every change that is right does not ask us ever to give +ourselves or our loved ones away. I dislike that term." + +"You may wait, Louis; I will tell mother, and she can tell father." + +"No, no, Emily! It is I who ask for your hand, and is it not my +privilege as well as duty?" + +"What a strange man you are growing to be, Louis! Hal couldn't bear the +thought of telling mother or father his heart affairs, and I was the +medium of communication between them." + +"He feels differently about it," said Louis, "and yet he has the +tenderest heart I ever knew within the breast of a man." + +"He is a good brother, Louis. I could not ask a better." + +"Nor find one if you did." + +At that moment Matthias came in. Taking off his hat and saluting us in +his accustomed way, he said: + +"'Pears like I'll have to ask some of yere to go out in de woods a +piece--thar's a queer looking gal out thar, an' she's mighty nigh froze +to death; she is, sartin." + +"Where is she, Matthias?" + +"Clean over thar; quite a piece, miss." + +"Near any house?" I said. + +"Wall, miss, she mout be two or three good steps from that thar +brick-colored house." + +"Oh, clear over there? Well," I said, "I'll go over if Lou Desmonde will +go with me." + +"I will go, only never call me that again. Matthias calls me Mas'r +Louis, and he says I remind him of a mighty nice fellow down in South +Carliny," said Louis. + +"Yis, sah, you does," said Matthias. + +Telling mother and Aunt Hildy what we were going out to find, we +started. + +It was a very cold day, and through our warm clothing the winds of March +pierced the marrow of our bones. We found the woman, who proved to be, +as Matthias had said, nearly frozen. Louis took her right in his arms to +the nearest shelter, Mr. Goodwin's, the brick-colored house, and his +good, motherly wife had her put into the large west-room, where the +spare bed was made so temptingly clean, and with such an airy feather +mattress, that, light as she was, the poor girl sank into it almost out +of sight. Matthias brought wood and made a fire on the hearth, and Mrs. +Goodwin, Louis and I worked hard for an hour chafing her purple limbs, +her swelled feet and hands, and at last she turned her head uneasily, +and murmured: + +"The baby's dead--she is dead and I am going to her." + +Then a few words of home and some pictures. + +"Myself! myself!" she'd cry, "my picture; yes, my hair is beautiful; my +golden curls, he said; and my baby's hair; let me put it here." + +And she passed into a sleep from which it would seem she could never +waken. We sent Matthias back to tell mother, and say that we should both +stay all night if necessary. This girl could not be more than twenty, +we thought. Her fingers were small and tapering, and on her right hand +she wore a ring set with several diamond stones. Her dress was of silk, +and her shawl fine but thin. Her head covering had doubtless fallen off +and then been carried by the wind, for we saw nothing of it. She was a +beautiful picture as she lay there, for the blood had started and her +cheeks were flushed with fever, her lips parted, showing a set of teeth, +small, white and regular. Who could she be? Where did she come from? It +was about an hour after she fell asleep that she stirred, wakened, and +this time opened her eyes in which a conscious light was gathering. + +"Where am I? What is it?" + +Mrs. Goodwin stepped near her, Louis retreated from the room, and I kept +my seat by the hearth. + +"Dead, dead, I was dying but I am not dead; do tell me," she said, +putting both her hands out to Mrs. Goodwin. + +"You are sick, my child. We found you in the road and took you in. You +had lost your way." + +"Oh! oh!" she murmured, "can I stay all night?" + +"Oh, yes, stay a week or two, and get rested!" + +"May I go to sleep again? Who knows me here?" and again she fell asleep. +By this time Aunt Hildy appeared on the scene, and commanded me to go +home and stay there. + +"'Tain't no place for you; I've brought my herbs to stay and doctor her. +You go home and help your mother." I obeyed, of course, and when I left, +kissed the white forehead of the poor girl, and sealed it with a tear +that fell. + +She murmured: "Yes, all for love,--home, pictures, mother,--all left for +love, and the baby's dead. I'm going there." + +I went out into the crisp air with Louis' arm for support, and a +thousand strange thoughts whirling in my brain. "Great, indeed, must +have been the sorrow which could have driven so tender a plant from +home." + +"Yes," said Louis, "God pity the man whose ruthless hand has killed the +blossoms of her loving heart. She looks like little mother, Emily." + +"So she does, Louis." And we talked earnestly, forgetting everything but +this strange, sweet face. Supper was ready, and the rest were at the +table. + +"What have you been up to?" said Ben, "you look like two tombstones." I +related briefly the history, and concluded by saying: + +"She looks as frail as a flower." To which Mr. Benton added: + +"Doubtless her frailty, Miss Minot, is the cause of her present +suffering." + +"Poor lamb," said Clara, "how thankful we should feel that Matthias +found her." + +"Yes," said Louis, "and if he only could have thought to have carried +her into Mr. Goodwin's, and then come over after us, she would not have +so hard a struggle for life." + +"Do you think she can live?" said Mr. Benton. + +"Oh, yes!" said Louis, "the blood has started, and with Aunt Hildy by +her bedside she will be, by to-morrow, very comfortable. I think she had +not been there long when we found her." + +"Perhaps she will not thank you for bringing her back to life, however." + +"Perhaps not," said Louis, "still it seems a sacred duty, and in my +opinion, not finished with her mere return to life. She looks very +beautiful--looks like little mother," turning in admiration to Clara, +whose eyes reflected the love she held in her heart for him. + +Father and mother were silent, but after supper mother said they would +ride over and see if anything was necessary to be done that they could +attend to. My mother was too silent and too pale through these days. I +looked at the prospect of less work for her with pleasure, and after Mr. +Benton left there certainly would be less. Louis would have Hal's room, +and Clara then would see to their apartments almost entirely. This would +be a relief, and now that my mind was at ease, I knew I could be of more +service, while Aunt Hildy would still remain, for she said she would +make "Mis' Minot's burden as easy as she could, while the Lord gave her +strength to do it." + +After father and mother were gone, Louis sat with me in our +sitting-room, while Clara absented herself on the plea of something very +particular to attend to. I mistrusted what it might be, and looked at +her smilingly. "My Emily guesses it," she said, "something for the +little lamb. Emily will help me too, have I not said it?" and she passed +like a sweet breath from the room. + +"Now Louis," I said, as we sat together on the old sofa,--our +old-fashioned people called it "soffy,"--"let us look at that letter." + +He produced it from the pocket where it had lain in waiting, and we +read. Many lines were illegible entirely, but together we deciphered +much of it. "The baby is dead--she was beautiful, and if (here were two +words we could not make out), it would have been so nice (then two lines +blurred and indistinct, and another broken sentence). Where can your +letters ---- I am sure you write. If ---- then I shall go to find ----. +My father will give us ----" and from all these grief-laden sentences, +we gathered a story that struck us both as being almost made to coincide +with that of the poor lamb. + +"Louis," I said, "if this is the very Mary, what shall we do?" + +"We will do right and let problems be solved as best they can. First let +us understand about ourselves, then we can better act for others. How +did Mr. Benton annoy you?" + +Then I told him. + +"And you did not even think you loved him?" + +"Louis," I cried, "how could you think so, when my heart has been yours +always? How could you think of me in that light?" And those old tears +came into my eyes. + +"I could not convince myself that such was the case, but Wilmur Benton +gave me so to understand--said you were a coy damsel but a glorious +girl, and would make a splendid wife--'just such as I need,' he said, +'congratulate me.' + +"When, Louis, did he say this?" + +"The night of our walk; and it was this instead of the picture he talked +of." + +"You were cruel not to tell me," I said. + +"I waited for my year to finish as I had said I would, and then, Emily, +I waited longer for fear you did not know your heart. Matthias said to +me one day, 'Masr' Louis, dat man neber can gain de day ober thar; Miss +Emily done gone clar off de books, an he's such a bother--um--um.' This +set me to thinking; I asked him how he came to think so. 'Dunno, can't +help it, 'pears like dat gal's eyes tell me 'nuf.' All this was good to +hear, and I had watched you very closely for days, thinking every +morning, 'I will tell her before night;' and several times went into +Hal's room purposely, but Mr. Benton was always before me. It was +because you felt all this that the letter made you feel truly an opening +path--your tearful talk by the old apple tree was the 'sesame' that +opened the way to the light." + +"I do not like to feel that man is such a character as all these things +indicate," I said, adding dreamily, "but I never came very near to him. +He is a splendid artist, and still the canvas does not speak of his +soul." + +"How utterly void of feeling for those in bondage he seems to be! What a +cold crust covers him! Emily." + +"It hurts me to think you could for a moment believe I preferred him to +you." + +"You must not for a moment believe that in my soul I did, for it is not +true; but I knew your artless, loving heart, and I knew also Mr. Benton +had the power to polish sentences of flattery that might for a little +dazzle you, as it were." + +"And they did sometimes, Louis," I said, for I wanted the whole truth to +be made plain, while I felt his glittering eyes fastened on me, "but +not long. When I was alone, I saw your face and longed to hear again the +words you had said to me. We are both young, Louis, and I feared you did +not love me as you thought. I had no right to defend myself against Mr. +Benton's attacks by using your name with my own. And when the year was +past, then I still felt no right, and further," I added slowly, "to me +my love was a sacred picture I could not ask him to look at." + +"My Emily forever," said Louis, folding me closely to him. "Your fears +were groundless as to the changing of my love for you, but, as you say, +the picture was not for his eyes. Your suffering causes me sorrow, but +let us hope it has not been in vain." + +"It is all right, Louis, now, and I have said to myself, let 'Emily will +do it' be the words hereafter, for 'Emily did it' has passed, and with +this lesson, too, I hope, the second sin of omission, which in my heart +I characterize as 'Emily did not do it.' And now your little mother's +words lie just before me, reaching a long way through the years, 'Emily +will do it.'" + +"Amen," said a sweet voice, which was Clara's. "Emily has begun, and +when she goes to see the little lamb here are some things to take." + +"Do you want to see her, little mother?" + +"Not now, Louis; I cannot now look upon her sorrow. By-and-by," and over +her face came a shining mist, and through sweet sympathy's pure tears +her eyes looked earnestly, but she did not tell us of what she was +thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +MARY HARRIS. + + +I think we must all have dreamed of the lovely face over among the +pillows in Mr. Goodwin's west room, for we were hardly seated at the +breakfast table ere Ben said: + +"Wonder how that pretty girl is this morning?" + +"She was better when we left last night," said mother, "I thought she +appeared as if ready for a comfortable night; but shall hear soon if she +is better, Aunt Hildy will be home, and if not, Matthias will be over." + +"Wish I could see her--will she go right away?" + +"That I do not know," said mother, "we have yet to learn her history. +Mrs. Goodwin wanted Matthias to come over to-day, for after you left, +Emily, she called for 'Peter, colored Peter,' looking as if expecting to +find him. Matthias came into the room and brought some wood, while she +was awake, and when she saw him, she said, 'Oh, Peter! stay till I get +rested--I want to tell you.' He dropped his wood heavily, it gave him +such a start. He says no one ever called him that except some young +people down in Carolina, and it seems he named himself Peter, to their +great amusement, telling them that he 'cakilated to treat his old Mas'r +just as Peter treated de good Jesus.'" + +"Why, can it be possible he knows her?" I said. + +"He thinks not," said mother, "but this calling him Peter is singular +enough." + +"It seems very strange, and hardly possible she can have come so far," +said father. Louis' eyes as well as my own had been covertly scanning +Mr. Benton, and he was ill at ease. At the name of Peter his face grew +pale and his hand trembled; no one else noticing it, he rallied, but +made no remark whatever. Afterward Louis said to him: + +"What a strange experience this is of the girl we found!--truths are +queer things; I feel a real anxiety to find out about her. Do not you +feel interested?" His eyes fell as he answered: + +"Can't say that I do. You have more enthusiasm than myself. Having known +more years, I am taught to let people look out for themselves very much. +But that old Matthias I don't like. It may be all a put up +job--something to bring credit or money to himself--you can't trust that +darky." + +"Why," said Louis, "_I_ would trust him, and so far as this young lady +is concerned, a different person from Matthias is at the root of the +matter. I have a desire to know the truth and help the girl." + +"She may be your fate, Louis." + +"No," he replied, "Mr. Benton, that is not possible, my 'fate,' as you +call it, is my Emily." + +"Miss Minot?" said Benton, "great heavens! Has that girl played me +false?" + +"I think not," said Louis calmly, "and since the subject is broached, +perhaps it will be best for me to tell you that Emily is to be my wife, +her parents being willing." + +"You _are a gentleman_, truly! I gave you my confidence and expected"-- + +"Do not say more," said Louis, raising his hand deprecatingly against +the coming falsehood, "do not help me to despise you. I am too sorry +that I am forced to know what you said to me was untrue, and also to +realize what my Emily has suffered and kept in her own heart." + +"Louis Desmonde," said Mr. Benton, "do you realize what you are saying?" + +"Only too well, sir; do not force me to say more. I admire your art. I +am willing to help you to be a man." + +"_Indeed!_" replied Mr. Benton. "Philanthropic _boy_! who talks to a man +of years and judgment!" + +It was a bitter pill for him, and I believe it was the knowledge of +Louis' money, and of his own great need of it, that forced him to +retreat in silence, while Louis sought and told me of their interview. + +"How could you help telling him of the letter, Louis?" + +"I did not have to try to help it, for I want to be sure of all I say to +him, and as far as I spoke I had perfect authority. He may at some time +need my help, though he spurned the aid of his 'philanthropic boy.'" + +"_Boy_," said I, "you are old enough to be his father in goodness, but +here comes Aunt Hildy. The poor lamb must be better, else she would not +come back so soon," and I opened the door for her entrance. + +"I know what you're after," she said, "she's better; the poor thing +will get well. Oh dear! land! I wonder, when'll the same old story end." + +"Has she told it to you, Aunt Hildy?" + +"Partly to me and partly to Mis' Goodwin." (Aunt Hildy never said Mrs. +---- married or single, it was always Miss.) "She'll tell you all about +it, I guess, for she wants to see you. She remembers your dark eyes, and +Matthias she calls Peter--yes, she does, now she's come clean to her +senses, and when she gets a little more strength, she says she must see +him, and the dark eyes too; so you'll have to go over. Mis' Goodwin said +mebbe you'd better wait till to-morrer, and so says Brother Davis. He +come over and brought a few of his powders--he wanted to do something. I +told him we could fetch her out straight--Mis' Goodwin and me--and I +think he'd better tend to himself--says he's got a dreadful pain under +his shoulder blades; acts as if he's goin' to be sick." + +"Could the young lady eat anything, Mrs. Patten?" said Louis. + +"Mercy! yes, I've made gruel twice for her and she's all right, only +she'll be lame and sore-like for a good while, but I must go to work, +I've been gone long enough. Where's your mother?" And the dear old soul +hastened to her duties. + +Our supper table was enlivened by the news that Aunt Hildy brought, all +being interested with the exception of Mr. Benton, who was well covered +with dignity. Part of that evening, Louis and I spent with Hal and Mary. +I longed to tell them all about the letter and Mr. Benton's deceit, but +as we entered, Louis whispered, "Let us be discreet," and I answered, +"Emily will do it." He was so much wiser that our years told a story +when they said "only a month's difference in their ages." Hal and Mary +were much interested in the poor lamb, and like ourselves hoped to learn +her history, and help her as she must need. Our visits here were always +pleasant, and when we said "good night," a sincere "God bless you" rose +from our hearts. We entered our sitting-room, to find Clara sitting +between mother and father, and the three evidently enjoying a home talk. +After we were seated, and a lull in the conversation came, Louis +startled me by saying: + +"Mr. and Mrs. Minot, I want to ask of you a favor--greater than the one +granted my little mother; perhaps so great that you will fail to grant +it; but it is worth the asking, worth the waiting for through years. May +I call Emily my wife?" + +My father looked strangely, and did not reply for a moment, while +mother's face was covered with that pleasant smile, which from earliest +years I had considered, "_yes_." Louis' eyes were bent on my father, +who, when he answered, said: + +"You are both young, Louis." + +"Yes, sir, I know it, and I do not ask to make her my wife now. But I +love her, Mr. Minot, and it is not right we should hold a position not +sanctioned by you. I shall feel better if you are willing to consider +us, as we feel, pledged to each other." + +"I cannot say _no_, but I have thought--Mr. Benton has asked me the same +question, and I hardly know what to say--I said to him, 'If Emily is +willing, I will not oppose your suit.'" + +"Oh!" I cried, "father, he has told such stories!" + +Louis said: "We can explain that satisfactorily, Mr. Minot, but if there +are other objections in your mind, let us know what they are." + +My father was not a man who expressed himself freely, and Louis was so +unlike other young men that he was embarrassed evidently, and there was, +as it seemed to me, a long silence ere he said: + +"I have no objections, Louis. I believe you mean what you say, and also +have enough of your mother in you to treat our girl well. I cannot see +why your plans may not be carried out so far as I am concerned." + +He looked at mother, who smiled a consent, and Louis stepped toward them +both, shook their hands heartily, and said: + +"I thank you." + +His way of manifesting feeling was purely French, and belonged to +him--it was not ours, but we came to like it, and as my father often +said, when Clara came she unlocked many a door that had been shut for +years. Too many of our best ideas were kept under covering, I knew, and +the hand of expressive thought was one which loosened the soil about +their roots, giving impetus to their growth and sweetness to their +blossoms. We knew more of each other daily, and is not this true through +life? Do not fathers and mothers live and die without knowing their +children truly, and all of them looking through the years for that which +they sorely need, and find it not? Their confidence in each other +lacking, lives have been blasted, hopes scattered almost ere they were +born, and generations suffered in consequence. It was the blessed +breaking of day to me, the freedom to tell my mother what I thought; and +after Clara, became one of us, I could get much nearer to my father. The +full tide of her feeling swept daily over the harbor bar of our lives, +and we enjoyed together its great power. Her heart was beneficent, and +her hand sealed it with the alms she gave freely. She was always +unobtrusive, and anxious in every way to avoid notoriety. + +Deacon Grover who had heard and known with others of her numerous +charities, offered advice in that direction, and said to Aunt Hildy, + +"If that rich lady would just walk up and give a few hundreds to the +church fund it would help mightily." + +Aunt Hildy had replied: + +"Yes, yes, Deacon Grover, it would be nice for lazy folks to let the +minister do all the saving, and somebody else all the paying. I believe +faith without works is jest exactly like heavy bread, and will not be +accepted at the table of the Lord." + +"He never said another word to me," said she; "that man knows he has a +right to be better." + +This was a conceded fact, and it always seemed to me he ought not to be +carrying his deaconship in one hand, and his miserably small deeds in +the other. Hypocrites were in existence among all people, and while +thoroughly despised by them, still held their places, and do yet, as far +as my knowledge and experience go. + +Early the morning of the next day, Matthias came over to tell us about +that "poor gal," as he called her. + +"She wants to see you, Miss Emily, and they say she wants to talk to me +too. Mis' Goodwin said ''pears like you'd better come over thar 'bout +three o'clock to-day, if you can.' She's right peart, an' by 'nuther +mornin', 'spect she'll call loud for me." + +"Do you think you know her, Matthias?" + +"Can't say I do, Miss, but seems queer enough, she 'sists on callin' of +me 'Peter'--um--gimme sich a feelin' when she spoke dat word," and +Matthias looked as if his heart was turning back to his old home, and +its never-to-be-forgotten scenes. + +Mother sent a basket of delicacies over by him, and Aunt Hildy said: + +"Tell Miss Goodwin I'm goin' to bake some of my sweet cookies and send +over, and we can make some bread for her; 'twill help along--don't +forget it Matthias." + +"No, marm, I'll 'member sure," and off he started. As he passed along +the path I thought of a word I wanted to say, and ran out of the door in +time to see the shadow of a form which I knew must be waiting in the +"angle" as we called it. It was where the east L ended, about ten feet +from the main front. In the summer I had a bed of blue violets here, and +named it "Violet Angle.' I stopped, for I heard a voice, and saw +Matthias turn to this spot instead of passing on to the gate as usual. +The first salutation I did not hear, but Matthias' reply was "yaas sah." +The voice was Mr. Benton's, and I stood riveted to the spot. + +"Who is that girl, Matt?" he said. + +"Dunno, sah." + +"Don't know? Yes, you do know; you can't play your odds on me. I'm not +ready to swallow all I hear. I want you to tell me who that girl is, +and how she came here." + +"I dunno, sah, sartin." + +"Matt, I don't believe a word you say; first tell me the truth." + +"Massar Benton, you're a queer man. Dis niggah shan't tell you no lies, +but de Lord's truf, I dunno noffin 'bout." + +"You don't know me either, do you?" and he laughed ironically. + +"Never thought I did," said Matthias; "'pears like long ways back I see +some face like yours, but I dunno. Good many faces looks alike roun' +yere." + +"Yes, yes," says Benton, "you've said enough, you black rascal; and you +_mark my words_, if you've raised the devil, as I think you have, I'll +cowhide you. I'll give you something to remember me by, you old fool; +and you a'nt a fool either; you're as cunning as Satan is wicked." + +"De Lord forgive you," said Matthias, "you're done gone clar from your +senses. I dunno who dat gal is, an I dunno who you is, an' what more kin +I say?" + +"I know who you are, and I know you were the slave of Sumner down in +South Carolina." + +"Yaas," said Matthias, "dat's so; but how does you know 'bout me? Did +you come down thar? 'Haps dat's de reason you're face kinder makes me +look back, an it mos' allus does; 'pears like you mout explain." + +"Yes, s'pose I _mout_," said Benton, "and I reckon you will before we +get through." + +"Wal," said Matthias, "if you wait till you gits evidence fo' you gives +dat hidin' you talks 'bout, I've got plenty ob time to go over to de +groun' room," and he walked off at his old gait, slow but sure, while I, +turning, ran into the house and told mother what I had heard. + +She raised her hands in a sort of holy horror, but only said: + +"What does it mean?" + +"It means," said Aunt Hildy, "that man's a rascal; I told you, Mis' +Minot, he was when I first set eyes on him, and I've kept good track of +Emily, for when he see he couldn't get the 'rich widder,' that's what he +calls our good little creetur Clara, then he tacked round and set sail +for Emily, and he's been a torment to her, and I know it. Thank the +Lord, he's shown his cloven foot; I wish Mr. Minot had heard it. _He_ +laughs at me, thinks I'm a fool, but I've seen through him if I do wear +an old cloak. It's mine, and so is my wit, what little I've got." + +Aunt Hildy stepped up lively and worked every moment, keeping time to +her thoughts and giving great expression by her peculiar accenting of +words. Clara heard us, and came in "to the rescue," she said, "for it +sounded as if somebody was getting a scolding." + +I repeated my story, and although she rarely used French expressions, +this time she clasped her little hands together, sank into a chair, and +said: + +"Oh! Emelie, j'ai su depuis longtemps, qu'il nous ferait un grand tort. +Le pauvre agneau! Le pauvre agneau!" + +"What will father do?" I said to mother. + +"I cannot think of anything to do except to help the poor girl; his own +punishment is sure, Emily; we are not his masters. 'Vengeance is mine, +saith the Lord,'" she quoted calmly. + +"Yes," said Aunt Hildy, "that's the spirit to have, but I believe if I +had really heard it as Emily did, I'd have risked it to throw a pan of +dish water on him." + +I could not help laughing--we were having a real drama in the kitchen. +Great tears had gathered in Clara's eyes, and I said to her: + +"Now this will upset you. I'm sorry you heard it." + +"No, no," she said, "but the poor lamb, I can hardly wait for the time +when I may see her." + +"Can you ever speak to Mr. Benton again?" I said to mother. + +"I should hope so, Emily. I feel great pity for him; he might be a +better man. We are taught toleration not of principles, but certainly of +men, and I think if our Heavenly Father will forgive him, we can afford +to, and then it would be very unwise to let him know we are cognizant of +this." + +My mother reminded me so many times of the light that burns steadily in +a light-house on a ledge. The waves, washing the solid rock, and wearing +even the stone at its base, have no power to disturb the lamp, which, +well trimmed, burns silently on, throwing its beams far out to sea, and +fanning hope in the heart of the sailor, who finds at last the shore and +blesses the beacon light. + +I admired her calm and steadfast trust in the truth, that bore her along +in her daily doing right toward all with whom she mingled, but I well +knew she would be righteously indignant toward Mr. Benton, and also +that the whole truth, with the letter and the story of "the lamb," would +soon be forthcoming. I could hardly wait for the recital which I +expected to hear in the afternoon, and entered Mrs. Goodwin's door at +three o'clock precisely. + +She was glad to see me, and said cheerily: + +"Take off your things, Emily, and I'll show you right in, for Miss +Harris is waiting anxiously." + +I thought she looked beautiful the night we found her, but to-day she +was a marvellous picture, sitting among the white pillows. Her cheeks +were touched here and there with pink, as if rose leaves had left their +tender stain--her eyes beautifully bright, and such depths of blue, with +arched brows above them, and long brown lashes for a shield. Her hair +rippled over her shoulders in brown curls, and around her was thrown the +light India shawl she had about her on that sad night. She smiled with +pleasure as I entered, and beckoned me to her bedside, while Mrs. +Goodwin said: + +"Take the old splint rocker, Emily. I am going to let you stay two long +hours." + +How gratefully the poor lamb's eyes turned upon the good woman! + +"This young lady's name is Harris." + +"Yes," said Miss Harris "Mary Abigail Harris, after my mother." + +I kissed her forehead, and then took the seat proffered, sitting so near +her that I could lean on the side of the bed as I listened to the story. + +Mrs. Goodwin left us alone, and the recital began: + +"I remembered your eyes, Miss Minot, and I wanted to tell you all about +it--how I came to be here, needing the help you so kindly gave. Oh, I +shudder," she said, "as I think how it might have been that never again +my mother could have seen me!" + +Her face grew pale, but no tears came, and I could see a resolute look +that gave signs of strong will, and for this I felt inwardly thankful. + +"I came from my home," said she, "in search of my husband. Three years +ago I was married in my father's house to Wilmur Bentley, who came South +from his Northern home on an artist's tour, selling many pictures and +painting more. He lived in our vicinity for some months with a friend, a +wealthy planter by the name of Sumner." I started involuntarily. "There +were two of these gentlemen--brothers--and they owned large plantations +with many colored people. Mr. Bentley had every appearance of a +gentleman of honor, and none of us ever doubted his worth. My father +gave him a pleasant welcome and a home, and for three brief months we +were happy. Suddenly a cloud fell upon him; he appeared troubled, and +said 'Mary, I must go North--I have left some tangled business snarls +there, which I must see to.' He left, promising an early return. The +letters I received from him were frequent, and beautifully tender in +their expressions of love for me. I was happy; but the days wore into +weeks, and his return still delayed. I began to feel anxious and +fearful, when I received a letter from Chicago, saying he had been +obliged to go to that city on business, and would be unavoidably +detained. He would like me to come to him, if it were not for fear of +my being too delicate to bear the journey. My parents would have been +quite unwilling also, for the promise of the days lay before me, and +with this new hope that it would not be so very long ere he would come, +I was again contentedly happy. The letters grew less frequent, and the +days grew long, and when September came my little girl came too, and how +I longed for her father to come. + +"My parents telegraphed him of the event, saying also, 'Come, if +possible--Mary is in a fever of anxiety,' but he did not come; the +telegram was not replied to, and although dangerously ill, I lived. Now +the letters came no more, and I, still believing in his goodness, felt +sure that he was either sick or dead. My little Mabel lived one year. +Oh, how sweet she was! and one month after her death I received a letter +asking why I was so silent, telling me of great trouble and overwhelming +me with sorrow. I answered kindly, but my father was convinced by this +that he was a 'villain,' to use his own expression. The fact of his not +writing for so long, and then writing a letter almost of accusation +against me, made me feel fearful, and as I looked back on my suffering, +determined, if it were possible to some day know the truth. My answer to +the letter I speak of was received, and he again wrote, and this time +told me a pitiful tale of the loss by fire of all his artist +possessions, and his closing sentence was 'we may never meet again, for +in the grave I hope to find refuge from want. If you desire to answer +this, write 'without delay. It is hard to bear poverty and want.' + +"I felt almost wild, and gave father the letter, hoping to receive a +generous donation from him, but my father said, 'Molly, darling, (that +is my name at home), the villain lies! no, no, pet, not a cent.' I cried +myself ill, and sent him my wedding ring, a diamond, his gift, since +which I have heard nothing. + +"I told my father after it was gone, and if he had not loved me so much, +I should have felt the power of angry words. He was angry, but he +thought of all I had suffered, and he took me right up in his arms, and +cried over me. 'Mollie, darling, it is too bad; you have a woman's +heart. I would to God the man had never been born. + +"I had a dear friend to whom I had confided all my sorrow--a Virginia +lady, married and living in Boston. Her husband, Mr. Chadwick, is a +merchant there, and every year she spends three or four months with her +Southern friends. One brother lives in Charleston, my home. We have been +attached to each other for years, and my father and mother love her +dearly. Three weeks ago she arrived at her home in Boston, having been +South four months, and at her earnest solicitation I came also. She knew +my heart and how determined I was to find Mr. Bentley, and felt willing +to aid me in any way possible. We went about the city, and I devoted +myself especially to looking at paintings and statuary. I found at last +by chance a picture with the name, not of 'Bentley,' but of 'Benton' on +it. I traced it to Chicago, and proved it to be his, and there from his +own friends gathered the facts which led me on his track." + +"Oh!" I cried. + +"Wait," said she, "More, Miss Minot; he has a wife, or at least there +is a poor woman with two boys living in poverty in the suburbs of +Boston, to whom he was married ten years ago. I have been to see her, +but did not disclose my secret. Mrs. Chadwick has known of this for a +long time, but dared not tell me until I got strong, and was in the +North with her. I gave that woman money to help her buy bread, and Mrs. +Chadwick will see to her now. She is a lovely character. Benton's home +is near this place where she lives, and he goes there once in a great +while. Now about my clothes--when I started for this place I was well +clad, and the first of my journey quiet and calm, but I think my +excitement grew intense, and I must have lost myself utterly. I know it +was a week ago when I left Boston, and now as I look back, I remember +looking at my baby's picture and everything growing dim in the cars. +This India shawl was thrown about my neck, but it seems when you found +me I had no other covering. I found the purse where I had sewed it in my +dress, but my cloak and bonnet and furs, all are gone. + +"I can remember how the name of this place kept ringing in my ears, and +I must have asked for it and found it, even though I cannot remember one +word. After the baby's picture your eyes came before me, and then old +Peter." + +Looking at the clock, she said: + +"It is only half an hour since you came in, and will you ask Peter to +come in and see me? I'm sure I hear him talking in the other room." + +I stepped to the door, and there was Matthias. + +I said to Mrs. Goodwin: + +"Miss Harris wishes to see Peter, she says." + +She looked at Matthias, and then said: + +"Well, come in, and we'll find out what she means, if we can." + +He walked solemnly along to her bedside, and stood as if amazed. + +"Peter," said she, "you know me; I am Mary Harris, and you lived with +Mr. Charles Sumner--do say you know me. You said you would deny your +master, and you did it," and she held her hands to him. + +He reached forth his own and took the jewelled fingers tenderly in his +dark palm as if half afraid; then the tears came, forcing their way, and +with an effort he said: + +"Oh! oh! honey chile--can't be pos'ble--what's done happin to ye, and +whar was ye gwine?" + +"Never mind, Peter, but do you remember the man who painted beautiful +pictures, and stopped awhile with your master's brother?" + +"Sartin, I does." + +"William Bentley he said was his name, but it was Benton; he told us a +story." + +"De great Lord, Molly chile, you's foun' him, sure--de debbil's got a +hold on dat man, an'--" + +But I looked a warning, and he waited. + +"You remember him then, Peter; he had a light moustache, a pleasing +mouth--a very nice young man we thought him to be." + +"Yas, yas, dar's whar de mistake come in, wit dat 'ar mustaff," said +Matthias dreamily. + +"What mistake?" she said. + +"Oh! de good Lord bress you, honey, what does you want of dis man?" + +"I want to tell him something, and I heard he was here, and now will you +find him for me?" + +"I will, Miss Molly, 'ef I dies dead for it--de Lord help us." + +"Do you think you can?" + +"I knows dat ar to be a fack." + +"Oh, Peter! I am glad; where is he?" + +Poor Matthias looked at me, and I said, "Now, Miss Harris, you must not +talk anymore, and I will help Matthias, for I think I know where this +man is." + +She shut her eyes and sank back among her pillows, looking tired and +pale--the knowledge that this destroyer of her hopes was so near was, +though looked for and expected, more than she could really bear. + +Mrs. Goodwin left the room, motioning to Matthias to follow, and I sat +quietly thinking of what to do, when she opened her eyes and said to me: + +"I have written to Mrs. Chadwick, and also to mother, and she will send +mother's letter from Boston. I cannot write to her of this; it would +worry her so; and now, as I can see Wilmur and say to him what I desire, +I shall leave you." + +"It will kill you to see him." + +"You are mistaken. I know I look frail, but I can endure much, and I do +not love him any more though he was my Mabel's father. I want him to go +to his poor wife and do right if he can. She loves him and is deluded +into believing the strangest things. Robberies and fires and anything +he thinks of are an excuse for not sending her money." + +"Oh! he needs hanging," I said. + +"No, no, Miss Minot; if he is unfit for our society he certainly would +find nobody to love him there; I am not seeking revenge, though his +punishment is sure enough. In two days more I shall be strong enough to +see him. Oh, I do hope Peter will find him!" + +She needed rest, and I said: + +"Now it is best for me to go, and when I come again I would like to +bring a beautiful friend." + +"Oh, yes," she said, "and do come to-morrow!" + +She bade me a reluctant "Good bye," and I told Matthias, I wanted him to +walk home with me. + +My walk homeward with Matthias gave me the needed opportunity to talk +with him, where naught save the air wandering off to the hills could +hear us. I told him of the conversation which I had overheard, and also +that I proposed to take the burden on my own shoulders of revealing to +Miss Harris the fact of Mr. Benton being with us. "For," I said, +"Matthias, it will hardly be safe for you to bear all this. He believes, +I think, that you have helped Miss Harris to find him, and has been +looking out for trouble since you came to us, for he warned both Louis +and myself, and told us not to trust you. He did not, of course, say he +knew you; that would not have done at all. But I will do all she asks, +then your poor old shoulders will be relieved a little." + +"Jes as you say, Miss Emly, pears like its queer nuf an' all happin too, +an' ef he had worn just dat mustaff, without de whiskers, I'd know him +yere straight off. I said long nuf, he set me on de tinkin +groun--um--um--here come Mas'r Louis lookin' arter his gal, I reckin, +mighty wise he is; I'd tote a long ways ef 'twas to help him." + +Louis went to the village early and had returned to hear from Clara's +lips my morning discovery, and came to meet me, anxious to learn the +story of the poor lamb, which I rehearsed, having time to tell it all +during the rest of the walk, and ending with "it is strange enough to +make a book," just as we entered our gate. + +Louis said the cloud must break ere long; and when Matthias left I +followed along the path behind him, feeling that Mr. Benton might again +assail him, and I was not mistaken. + +"Look here," came from the angle, and "yas, sah," from Matthias as he +turned to answer. + +"What did you come home with Miss Minot for?" said Benton. + +"Kase she axed me too, sah." + +"Whom has she been to see?" + +"Dat poor gal." + +"Who is that girl, do you know? + +"Yas, sah," said the honest old man. + +"You know more to-day than you did yesterday." + +"Yas, sah." + +"Why don't you tell me who she is." + +"You did'nt ax me, you said did I know?" + +"I don't want any of your nigger talk. I want her name, and by the great +----" + +"Look yer, Mas'r Benton, if you's gwine to dip in an' swar, I'll tote +long by myself." + +"Well, tell me who she is." + +"She tole me she was dat little Molly Harris dat lived down in +Charleston, an--" + +"How in thunder did she get here?" + +"Dunno, sah." + +"You do know, and I tell you you'll make money to tell me all about it." + +"Dunno nothin' moah. I said dat same word, how you git yere, and she say +never min 'bout dat." + +"What else did she say, what does she want?" + +"Wall, de res ob what she tell me, 'pears like she didn't 'spect me +tell. I'll go over thar, an' tell her you wants to know, an--" + +"The devil you will, you impudent rascal--all I want to know is if she +wants to find me." + +"De good Lord, dat's de berry secret I don't want to tell." + +"Ah! ha! my fine fellow, caught at last." + +"Well," said he, "ef de Lord was right yere in dis vilit angil he'd say +Matt dunno nothin' 'bout how de poor lamb got roun' to dis town." + +"I don't know how to believe this, but now look here, Matt, if you'll go +over there and tell her I've gone to Chicago, I'll do something nice for +you. I'll get you a suit of nicer clothes than you ever had, and a shiny +hat--hey, what do you say?" + +"Mas'r Benton," said Matthias slowly, "I'm never gwine to tell a lie an' +set myself in de place whar Satan hisself can ketch a holt an me. No, +sah, 'pears like I'm ready to do what's right, but dat ain't right +nohow, an' 'pears, too, its mighty funny you's so scart of dat poor +little milk-faced gal. Trus' in de Lord, Mas'r Benton, an' go right on +over thar--she can't hurt you nohow." + +"Don't talk your nonsense to me; you're on her side, she's bought you, +but I'll be even with you; I'll slap your face now to make a good +beginning." + +"No, sah," said Matthias, "I'm done bein' a slave jes now, an' ef you +want to make me hit you I shall jes do it; fur you no bizness in de law +specially tryin' to put it on a poor ole nigger who can't go by ye +'thout your grabbin' at him jes ready to kill, an' all kase you's done +suthin' you's shamed of an' tinks he knows it. I'm gwine over to the +groun' room." + +I feared Mr. Benton would strike him, and I ran to the gate, and stood +there while Matthias passed out and along the road. Mr. Benton +disappeared suddenly. + +Supper-time was at hand, and there had been no time to tell mother what +I had heard of Miss Harris' history. At the table Ben, as usual, had +inquiries to make, and I said, "Oh! she is better, Ben; you shall see +her, for she will stay a long time." + +"Where did she come from, Emily?" + +From Charleston, South Carolina. + +"Well, ain't that funny?" said he; "that's the very place Matthias came +from, and perhaps she does know him after all." + +"Oh! yes, she does," I replied, and raising my eyes to meet Mr. Benton's +gaze, I shot the truth at him with a dark glance; his own eyes fell, and +he looked as if overwhelmed with confusing thoughts; and the +consciousness of being foiled roused the demon within him. This, +however, was not the time or place to unbottle his wrath, and it must +swell silently within. + +My father began to feel the shadows thickening round him, and he kindly +forbore to say a word regarding the matter, as did also mother. Aunt +Hildy moved a little uneasily in her chair, and I knew she could have +said something as cutting as a knife, but did not. As for me, I could +and did talk on other things, and congratulated myself on another +victory. I afterward told mother all Miss Harris said, and she remarked +quietly: + +"I am very thankful she is his wife." + +"Well, but she isn't," I said. + +"Yes, I know, Emily, the previous marriage would be held as the only +lawful tie, but it is much better than it might have been. She has a +good home and parents, and is young. Years will restore her. I cannot +see, however, why she should have taken the pains to find him here." + +"For the reason that she desires to plead with him for the wife and boys +that are in need, and is a strong noble woman too,--why, she will have +the strength of a lion when she gets well, and there is a resolute +determination on her part to place before Mr. Benton a plain picture of +his duty." + +"Hem!" said Aunt Hildy, "she can get her picture all ready and put on +the prettiest paint in the market,--that man will be gone in less than +twenty-four hours. Can't I see which way his sails are set?" Our back +door-sill never was swept cleaner than where this sentence fell. + +"That may be," said mother; "I hope he will, for it seems to me we have +too great a duty to perform if he stays. I feel ill able to undertake +the task." + +Aunt Hildy turned to hang up her broom, saying as she did so: + +"I'd like to have your sister Phebe give him a lecture--she'd tear him +all to pieces jest as easy as shellin' an ear of corn. I like to hear +her talk; she ain't afraid of all the lies that can be invented. What a +good hit she give Deacon Grover that night when he come in with his +ideas of nothin' spillin' over. She talked good common sense, and hew as +the subject, for it was all about a hypocrite. He did'nt stay to see if +he could get a mug of cider to save his own, but set mighty uneasy and +was off for home before eight o'clock. That done me good." + +That evening was spent by me in conversation with Louis. Next morning at +the breakfast table the subject of the poor lamb was not broached, and +directly after, when the stage came along, Mr. Benton took it to go to +the village on business. + +"There," said Aunt Hildy, "he never'll step on to this door-sill +again--but I would'nt throw a horseshoe after him if I knew it would be +good luck. He don't deserve any." + +"Why, he hasn't taken as much as a carpet-bag," said my father, "of +course, he will be back again." + +"No, sir, Mr. Minot; that feller is up to snuff--he ain't going to stop +now for any duty pictures," and she turned to her work as if satisfied +with having made a true prophecy. + +I spoke to Clara about going over to see Miss Harris, and she felt +inclined to go that morning. + +"Louis, too, may go," she said. "Come, dear boy." + +We were very welcome, and found Miss Harris seated in the old rush-chair +before the fire-place. Her dress was a most becoming wrapper of blue +(she found it in Clara's bundle) her hair falling as on the previous +day in natural curls, and the same India shawl thrown over her sloping +shoulders. She was exactly Clara's size, and when the two came together, +Clara said, "We are sisters surely." But afterward, as they sat side by +side, I could see such a difference. Alike in form and complexion, also +having regular features, yet the light in our Clara's eyes was +incomparably purer, savored less of earth. Miss Harris' face was sweet, +truthful, the lines of her mouth alone defining her powerful will and +courage. She was very beautiful, but earthly, while over my own Clara's +face there fell the unmistakable light of something beyond. Oh! my +saving angel, how my heart beat as I sat there drawing the comparison, +giving to Miss Harris a place in the sitting-room of my womanly feeling, +and yielding to my beloved Clara the entire room where lay the purest +thoughts which had been boon to my spirit, coming to life at the touch +of her tender hand! She was a beacon light in the wilderness of thought. + +"Tell me, Miss Minot," said Miss Harris, "tell me all you know, for I +feel you do know much." + +I explained Mr. Benton's coming to stay with us, and when I said he took +the stage this morning for town, and will be back, I suppose-- + +"Never," she interrupted, "he has heard I am here." + +"Yes," I said, and repeated his conversation with Matthias. + +"I am then foiled, but he will not elude the truth that goes with him. +He may have gone to his waiting wife. Mrs. Chadwick will write me, for +she will not lose sight of her." + +No tears came to her eyes, but the determined look deepened as it were +into strength, and she said: + +"It is too bad. I did hope to be able to make him do his duty. Now I +must hasten to become strong, and go back to Boston. I will find him +yet--I'm sure I will." + +She talked freely of her Southern home, and expressed comfort at the +hope of one day seeing us there. + +"I need a little help to get there myself," she said; "I have no +cloak--can you get one for me, Miss Minot? I am fortunate enough to be +able to pay for it, my purse being with me." + +Louis looked admiringly at the girl-woman (for such she seemed to be), +and when our call ended said to her: + +"When you are strong enough to leave, may you receive great help to do +what seems to be your whole duty; and if little mother or myself can aid +you, please command us." + +"Thank you," she said, "you remind me much of my dark-eyed Southern +friends." We took our departure. It was only one week after that the old +stage carried her from our sight; but we did not forget her, nor the sad +experience which had developed in her so great a strength. + +Mr. Benton did not return, as Aunt Hildy predicted, and the stage +brought a note for Hal, in which he said he was unavoidably detained, +having found important letters at the village. He would write him a long +letter, and the letter came after ten days' waiting, bearing the +postmark of ---- (he was with his wife). He wrote that he was with a +friend, and some unexpected business relations would keep him there for +a time. He desired his belongings sent to him, if it would not trouble +Hal too much. He feared that it would be a long time ere he would be +again situated amongst such pleasant surroundings, "and they are, as you +well know, so much needed by an artist," he said. I do wonder what the +man thought. Hal and Mary had not known Miss Harris' story, but Louis +had read the letter to Hal, and his perfidy was apparent to all. No word +had been said, however, and I presume he (not learning about the +letters) thought Hal still a good friend, which was in fact the case. +Hal said: + +"I would not lose sight of him for the world. Emily, his hand was one of +those which led me across the bridge of sighs when my art was coming to +life, and I shall help him. He may yet need more than we know." + +"We can afford to pity him, but what about his wife, Hal?" + +"His wife I intend to see. Let us hope he will yet prove of some +assistance to her." + +"Good brother! blessed brother! I have felt so angry with him, Hal, but +I will try to be good. Of course Mary will be with you." + +"She thinks he needs a little punishment, but I tell her to be patient, +and to let the days tell us their story." + +"Amen," said the voice of our Clara, who was always in the right place, +"and may we not hope for all the suffering ones. There are bruised +hearts all around us. Let the precious nutriment of our love and care +fall on them as the dew, calling forth tender blossoms, whose perfume +may mingle with their lives. Wisdom and strength, my Emily, will help us +to these things, and the prayer of England's church be not so sadly +true." + +It was a relief to us all, and we could take long breaths now that Mr. +Benton had gone, and mysteries solved had opened before us a vista of +quiet days, into which our feet would gladly turn. We had to talk him +over thoroughly, and I was glad to be able to say at last: + +"Peace to his memory; let him rest." + +The letter we expected from the sweet girl-woman came, and we heard each +week of her and her unrewarded search going on. At last, when out from +the snows blue violets sprang, there came a letter, saying, + +"It is done. I found him looking at a lovely picture, one of his own. It +was a fancy sketch, but the face, eyes and hair, those of Mrs. Desmonde, +I know. He had clothed her in exquisitely lovely apparel, and she was +looking out over a waste of waters, but I cannot describe it justly. If +her son were here, he would secure it at any price. I touched his +shoulder; he turned, and with the strangest look in his eyes. He sought +even then to avoid me, thinking probably I might prove a tempest in a +teapot, and make a terrible scene. I said quietly, 'I am only desirious +of two hours' conversation with you;' introduced Mrs. Chadwick to him as +to a friend, and invited him to call; gave him my card and turned away, +naming an hour the ensuing day; for I knew he would come. My manner +disarming him, I really believe he felt relieved to know I was not on +his track with weapons of law. He came, and I received him almost +cordially. The parlor had been left for us, and my friend, at my +request, sat outside the door where she could hear all that passed. Of +course, I cannot tell you what I said, but my revelations were +startlingly true, and he could not gainsay them, neither did he try to. +He seemed rather astonished that I no longer desired his companionship +and the great love which every true woman needs. I answered with spirit, +and just as I felt, that while his love might be boundless, it could no +longer be anything for me. I knew his soul was capable of maintaining +the appearance of purity of thought long enough to delineate its outline +on canvas, and while I admired his talent in verse, I had tasted the +bitter dregs of his falseness, and was now thoroughly undeceived as to +his character. Never again could I be misled by the semblance of a love +which had no reality beneath its honeyed words. I told him also that our +angel Mabel had been orphaned by his cruelty. And oh! how strong I felt +when I said, 'Go to your own wife, whose burden I would not increase by +revealing my own terrible secret. Live for her and those two boys. +Redeem yourself in the eyes of your God as well as before those whom you +have so foully wronged. If you will do this, I will say the peace of +well-doing be with you.' He really felt the power of my words, and +honored me for them, I know, and when he left my presence, he said: + +"'If life should hold for me henceforth some different purposes, would +you be my friend? and if in the great hereafter we shall meet, will +Mabel be with me there? I wish I could have seen her. Forgive me, Mary; +you are heaping coals of fire on my head. I thought you sought my utter +destruction.' + +"'My father would have appealed to you only through the law,' I said, +'but that would have been wrong, and would leave you no chance to grow +better. Go, and do right, and there is yet time for redemption.' + +"'But you--what of you?' he asked. + +"'I rise from beneath the weight of sorrow that covered me so early in +life, to find there is yet much worth living for. I shall live and be +happy.' They were not false tears, the drops that fell on my hand at +parting; and I said, after he had gone: + +"'Thank God who giveth me the victory.' My friend expected me to faint +or moan, or make some sign of distress. No, I felt a great joy within, +and I believe he will do better. I inclose to you some verses he sent me +at the time he wrote me the terrible letter of want and despair. They +had their effect, as I told you. Monday I leave for the South; I shall +write you immediately after my return. God bless you all. + +Mary." + +We read the letter together, Clara, Louis and I--and here is the poetry, +which speaks for itself of the talent this man possessed, and tells us, +as Clara said, how fruitful the soil would have proved if it had been +properly tilled. + + I was a poet nerved and strung + Up to the singing pitch you know, + And this since melody first was young + Has evermore been the pitch of woe: + She was a wistful, winsome thing, + Guileless as Eve before her fall, + And as I drew her 'neath my wing-- + Wilmur and Mary, that was all. + + Oh! how I loved her as she crept + Near and nearer my heart of fire! + Oh! how she loved me as I swept + The master strings of her spirit's lyre! + Oh! with what brooding tenderness + Our low words died in her father's hall, + In the meeting clasp, and parting press-- + Wilmur and Mary, that was all! + + I was a blinded fool, and worse, + She was whiter than driven snow, + And so one morning the universe + Lost forever its sapphire glow; + Across the land, and across the sea, + I felt a horrible shadow crawl, + A spasm of hell shot over me, + Wilmur and darkness, that was all! + + Leagues on leagues of solitude lie, + Dun and dreary between us now, + And in my heart is a terrible cry, + With clamps of iron across my brow. + Never again the olden light-- + Ever the sickly, dreadful pall; + I am alone here in the night, + Wilmur and misery, that is all! + + For the solemn haze that soon will shine, + For the beckoning hand I soon shall see, + For the fitful glare of the mortal sign + That bringeth surcease of agony, + For the dreary glaze of the dying brain, + For the mystic voice that soon will call, + For the end of all this passion and pain, + Wilmur is waiting--that is all. + +The letter and poem finished, we talked long of our new friend, and the +strange experiences brought into our quiet lives, and Clara said: + +"Oh! how long must all the good in the world of thought wait for the +hand of love to open the avenues of work for willing doers! Cannot +strong men weep; and must not angels sorrow to realize the darkness and +the errors where light should dawn, and in a morning of new life men and +women stand as brothers and sisters in the grand work of helping each +other to do all that lies on either hand! Fields whiten for the harvest, +but the reapers are not many. These experiences come to us as teachers, +and oh, Louis and Emily, let your hearts search to find these sorrowing +ones! May your hands never be withheld from the needed alms, and may you +work in quiet love and patience through the years! The mists will shroud +the valley, and ere long, my dear ones, I shall leave you, for I cannot +stay too long away from all that awaits me there. If I had more strength +I could stay longer--but strength is what we need to hold the wings of +our soul closely down, and when the physical chain grows weak, all that +is waiting comes nearer. Spiritual strength grows greater, and the +waiting soul plumes its wings for flight. It does not seem so far, and +Louis, Emily, when my visible presence goes from you, your prayers will +come to me. I shall hear, perhaps I shall answer you also, for I shall +be your guardian angel. Then--is it not beautiful to think of the long, +long years, and no death for evermore?" + +She closed her eyes, and looked serenely happy, but I was weeping +bitterly, and Louis' eyes swam in tears, as he said: + +"Little mother, wait still longer, we cannot let you go." + +"Oh! Louis, my dear boy, it is not now, it may be just a few years yet, +but it is sure to come--and I love to talk with you of this change. It +is natural for us to pass into the next room. If I go I must say all the +things I need to first." + +Aunt Hildy and mother entered, and we talked again of our new friend +Mary. When God touched me that night with his magic wand, I dreamed of +fairies, and saw wondrous changes at their hands, earth and heaven +strangely mingling. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +PRECIOUS THOUGHTS. + + +I like to drift with the days, and scan them one by one, but as I recall +all that I have written, I say to myself: "Emily must take some long +step now, else the tale of her life will never be told, even though the +changes came day by day, falling drop by drop into the lap of the +waiting years." + +Mother was feeling better, and when the rose-covered days of June came +over us our hearts were singing. Clara seemed well (for her) and I +forebore to grieve over her prophecy of leaving us, though for a few +days after she had said those words, an icy feeling crept over me as I +thought on what they foreboded. I could not see how we could bear to +lose her presence; life without her would be an empty vial, not only for +us, but for all. We loved her devotedly. In this beautiful June I felt +younger than ever before, and believed that the constant saying to +myself, "I will do right," was brightening all the world for me. + +I was twenty-one years old the previous March, and it seemed to me I +looked much younger than when two years ago we saw for the first time +the face of our Clara Desmonde. March was a sort of wild month to find +one's birthday in, and I never think of it without recalling the saying +of one who had seen hard work and sorrow as well. It was a lady I met +once at Aunt Phebe's, who came to bring a book for her to read, and in +the course of conversation she said: + +"Mrs. Hungerford, I was born in March, and have come to the delightful +conclusion that all who dare to be born in this month must fight the +beasts at Ephesus." + +This year I had certainly fought Mr. Benton, and perhaps I should find +another experience in the next March month that came. + +Ben was seventeen years old in January, and this was a great year for +him; he had sought and obtained father's consent to manage a farm for +himself. Hal could not, of course, till the land he owned, and Ben had +made arrangements to do it. He wanted the entire care, and Hal told him +to go right ahead the same as if he owned it all and see what he could +do. This was quite a step, and, as it proved, a successful one. He was +at home in his old room at night, but ate at Hal's table, and Mary said +he was so good they could never keep house without him. I rejoiced that +he could fill a position for which he was fitted, albeit father and Hal +were both disappointed that he could not have book knowledge enough to +place him in some position in public life. + +"That was mere ambition," mother said, and Aunt Phebe remarked +concerning him, that he should be let alone, and to help him to be an +honest man was the wisest course possible. + +"So I think," said Aunt Hildy; "common sense has got power to last a +good while, and high ideas sometimes kill everything." + +Louis was enjoying the summer "hugely," as he expressed it, and Clara +was very willing to aid him in everything he undertook, and he was not +an idle dreamer, for though he did dream beautifully, and talked often +of the fairy land, as he called the home of his pure, good thoughts, he +was a worker in all ways. If a sudden shower threatened the meadow, he +was there with the men, doing all he could to aid them, and not slow to +learn the use of rake and pitchfork. If Aunt Peg needed attention he was +soon over to see her, and when he went to the village, he was the errand +boy for any and all. He became well known among us, and the dear old +home among the hills gave him a hearty welcome. Even Deacon Grover came +to the conclusion that the city chap didn't put on airs, and told me he +should think I'd almost want to catch him, laughing heartily at his own +words. I always disliked this; it is a mark of a small brain to tell a +story or say something witty, and crown your own talk by laughing at +yourself--that would spoil the best joke in the world for me. + +One August afternoon I called Clara to the window to watch Louis and +Matthias coming along slowly together in a close and evidently +interesting conversation. They came in together, and the face of our +dusky friend was covered with the light of a new thought. + +"Why, how happy you look!" I said. + +"He feels happy," answered Louis; "they are going to have a wedding over +at Aunt Peg's, and I am first man." + +"Yes," said Matthias, "'pears like I kin get married now. Miss Smith, +she feels lonesome, and I bother her 'bout my vittles, an' we kin set by +one fire jes' as well." + +"I shall write Aunt Phebe to-morrow, and ask her," I said, laughing. + +"Um--um," said he, "reckon she's 'gaged to make me two white shirts +'reddy." + +"Why, when did she know it?" + +"Oh! she dunno nothing definite, but she said long ago she'd make 'em +for me when I git married, an' I done come over to see ef you'd sen' a +word about it to her." + +"I will most certainly, but how long before you will be married?" + +"'Bout tree weeks, I guess; haint set on no day. Let Miss Smith do +that." + +"And you'll have a wedding?" + +"No, Miss Em'ly. For de lan' sake, you don't 'spect we's gwine into dat +yere meetin' 'ouse for de folks to call it a nigger show, duz ye? We's +too ole to be gwine roun' to be laf at." + +"I didn't mean to plague you, Matthias; please excuse me," for he looked +the least bit provoked. "I'll make some cake, though, and you'll want +witnesses, so Louis and I can come, anyway." + +"'Spect you two need to get used to dat yere ceremony more'n de rest of +de folks yere; yas, you kin come." + +Oh! how Louis laughed at this, saying: + +"There, Emily, Matthias knows too much; look out for breakers when you +talk to him." + +The old man laughed heartily also, and left us to talk over the coming +event. + +"Two shipwrecked lives trying to keep close to the shore of content for +the rest of the journey, that's what they are," said Louis, "and we will +help them, and do God's service by ministering to their small needs, for +'Inasmuch as ye do it unto the least of these, ye do it unto me.'" + +He had so many Scriptural quotations at his tongue's end nowadays, I +often told him he would be a minister, I knew. Many of his days were +spent in the society of Mr. Davis, and they read the Bible through +together. Louis said the New Testament had great charms for him, and Mr. +Davis said to Clara and myself when we called upon him, that the +Scriptures had never been so blessed to his heart as now. + +"Your son," turning to Clara, "is not my student; he has the most lucid +perception, and transfers his thoughts to my heart with wonderful +strength, and yet he stirs the soil of years with tender hand, and never +forgets I am growing old. Some day he will have a pulpit of his own." + +"Do you think so?" I said. + +"Oh, it must be! He is like his mother; chosen for the good work. I +delight in his society, and hope never to miss it while I stay. I am not +strong, and some day I fear I shall not be able to preach when the +Sabbath dawns. If I do fail at any time, I shall secure his help." Clara +only said: + +"My dear boy shall do that which he can do well, for there will be no +stumbling blocks laid in his path; if he starts right, and I believe he +has, the way will be made plain, and as day unto day shall utter speech, +so night unto night shall show its knowledge." + +"He seems benevolent," said Mr. Davis, "and he will devote much of his +time, and substance as well, to the uplifting of the degraded, and the +exalting of mankind through daily practice." + +"So be it," said Clara; "I shall be glad if he can uplift the lantern +light of truth, that it may shine over all the dark and devious ways of +ignorance, and when my feet shall walk beside his father's on the hills, +may our souls call to him, and his heart receive from us the strength +which our love can give--angels to minister to his wants. Oh! this is +beautiful to think upon." + +The eyes of our good minister filled with tears, and I thought how +wisely and well Clara sows the seed. I felt ashamed to think how +unmindful of this tolerance of ideas I had been when his fiery sermon +aroused my spirit, and I have often since felt that we all possess too +much intolerance each toward the other. Mr. Davis was original in +thought, and had always regilded as it were the old texts in his sermon, +until they could not fail to interest us; and when, yielding to pressure +of conviction regarding eternal punishment, he warned his flock, Clara +judged him rightly, and I was wrong; for while the idea was horrible to +me, I had not wisdom or judgment to express myself, whereas Clara had +opened wide the door of love to his heart, and he received and +acknowledged the baptism of pure and elevating thought. + +His absolute fire died away into the description of conscience torment, +and through his later years the mellow ripeness of new thought took in +large part the place of the old. Mr. Davis was very anxious concerning +his health, and we did not wonder, for his cheeks grew pale and thin. He +seemed much older than he really was, and in two years of time had +gained ten in the defining face lines. These were, it seemed, +ineffaceable, and as the months wore on grew deeper still. + +Matthias' marriage came off in September, and our whole household were +invited. Aunt Hildy said she'd send them something, "but no weddins for +me," and she shook her head when I asked whether she was going. + +Mother was busy and did not feel like sparing the time, so at last, +Clara, Louis and I went over, and Mrs. Davis came with her husband, who +performed the ceremony in a pleasant way. I think no couple ever had +just such wedding presents. A blanket and some home-spun towels from +Aunt Hildy; a large silk bandana handkerchief, a chintz dress pattern, +and a little bead purse with some bits of gold from Clara (how much I +never knew), and from Louis a load of shingles, and the services of a +carpenter to re-shingle the little house, with some sensible gifts from +Hal and our people. Aunt Peg was beside herself with joy which she could +not express to suit her, and at last she said, "won't try to tell you +nothin'--can't do it." + +Mr. and Mrs. Davis stayed only a few minutes after the ceremony, but we +three had a long chat with our good friends, and when we left them at +the door, tears of gratitude fell from Aunt Peg's eyes. I looked back, +after we had started toward home, to see them sitting on the door stone +side by side, and their dark faces resting in the shadow of the Cyprus +vine was a pleasant picture. + +"Their cup runneth over," said Louis; "I am glad and 'we shall rejoice +with those that rejoice, and mourn, with those that mourn.'" + +"Another Bible quotation, Louis?" + +"Yes," said he, "and why may we not have these truths, like blessed +realities, walk side by side with us through life. Every day might let +the sunshine into the room of our thought, through the bars of +understanding that stand as defining lines between them. + +"Mr. Davis says you are to be a preacher. I believe you are already," +said I. + +"Would my Emily object? I think not, for has not little mother said, +'Emily will do it, Emily will help you?'" + +I did not answer with words, but my eyes spoke volumes, and he read them +truly. + +Letters came to us monthly from our Southern Mary, and Clara often said +she had hope of seeing her again. Mrs. Chadwick had kept track of Mrs. +Benton, and that strange compound of villainy and taste--her +husband--had really been touched by Mary's plea and was living with his +family. I could hardly believe it, and when Hal stepped in one evening +with "love's fawn" at his side, and a letter from that veritable Benton, +we had a grand surprise. I will not try to tell you of this well written +epistle, but this interesting item I will relate; here are his words: +"You will doubtless be surprised when I say I am married and keeping +house. I found my wife here; she has two nice boys. If you come to this +part of the globe, as I hope you will, call on us. You will be +welcome." + +"My soul!" said Aunt Hildy, "if the other world did have a fiery pit for +liars, that man would have the best seat, and nearest the fire." + +Mother smiled and said, "He does not know, of course, that we have heard +of this wife, for how should he?" + +"Why, certainly not," said Hal, "and I shall never tell him. Let him do +right if he can, and we perhaps can hardly blame him if he does want to +hold on to the few who have proven their friendship, for I think his +friends do not number many. He needs them all." + +"Judgment is mine saith the Lord," said Aunt Hildy. + +"Well, that may be true, but I cannot feel that we are His direct agents +for cursing the man." + +"Neither are we," said Louis, "and if we obey the commandment, 'Love ye +one another,' where can the curse come? No, no, Mrs. Patten, we must +wait for the spirit of the man to grow good and true, and the weakness +of the flesh by this will be overcome; he cannot forget all the wrong, +and probably might recall the words, 'The spirit is willing but the +flesh is weak.'" + +"Well," said Aunt Hildy, "I 'spose that's the Gospel good and true, but +I do get riled at his cuttings up. I've seen 'em before, yes I've seen +'em before." + +And she sat as if feeling her way back through the mist of years. I +wondered what she had suffered, but she kept her own secrets close to +her heart and held steadfastly to the truth doing much good. Her busy +fingers through the long winter evenings kept adding to the store of +stockings she was knitting for somebody who needed--and the needy would +surely come in her path. + +Aunt Peg and Matthias were quietly happy, and they came out of church +every Sabbath and walked with a pleasant dignity homeward. Matthias had +memorized the old hymns and he could pick many of them out, having +learned to designate them by their first word or line, and this he +called reading. + +"'Pears like I kin read a few himes, Miss Emily," he said. This is the +way with us through life. It seems to me we get the first word or line +and then go blindly on making mistakes and grievously sinning in our +ignorance, unknowing of the great beauty that awaits us in the perfect +rendering of life's beautiful psalm. + +Clara said we were like children running through a meadow, trampling the +daisies and clovers under our feet, and with breathless impatience +hurrying on through the long day to the fall of night, and when the +sunset of our earthly life came on, pausing then at the corner of the +meadow, we gathered the few tired blossoms at our feet and passed out +into the unknown. + +"Oh, my Emily!" she said, "if our steps could be even and slow we should +pick our comfort-daisies and our love-clovers on either side, while our +feet still kept the one small path of our greatest duty; and this to me +is the straight and narrow path spoken of." + +Her types of thought were so purely beautiful, and yet she drew them +from the plainest facts. She was growing nearer heaven daily, or perhaps +we were seeing her soul more clearly through the days. I thought and +comforted myself that we should not lose her. + +Louis and I talked sometimes of the coming time when we should receive +the sacred seal of marriage, and when the year for which he asked had +expired and the fall term opened in the seminary, he said: + +"Little mother tells me she cannot let me go back, she is too tired to +live without me. I knew it before she told me; her strength is very +little without mine, and," he added, "even if we do all we can, that +little mother must leave us before many years. You know, Emily, how I +have wanted all my life to be an artist. Perhaps I shall, sometime, but +now before me I can see a need that will bring me into different work, +and it may be also (his eyes were far away) I can, after all, do better +service by painting living faces." + +"What do you mean, Louis? + +"I mean, Emily, that when the tired hearts we find, feel comfort +creeping over them, the work shines through the eyes and glows within +the smiles that beam upon us. Did we not paint a pleasant picture at the +wedding, and are not these works of art appreciated through endless +time? Will they not repay us with something better than the gold which +we may lose, the earthly things that perish? And again, I have seriously +thought that it is not right for me to take the work that others who +need might have. Side by side with our great love must walk these +truths. I cannot see yet how our future plans are to be arranged, or +where our home will be. What does your good heart say, Emily?" + +"Oh! I cannot tell you, Louis. I sometimes imagine a little cosy home +like Hal's, and then it dissolves beyond my reach and I say 'Time will +tell it all.' Your mother taught me that one of the greatest lessons in +life is to learn to wait, and move with the tide if we can instead of +against it. These hills are very dear to me." + +"May they never be less!" said Louis, gathering me to himself; while I +reverently thought, "How glorious a manhood is his! how great the love +he gives me!" + +Time passed rapidly. Ben's first season as a real farmer had passed, and +storehouse and barn were filled. His hands grew strong and his blows +were telling. A handsome woodpile was one of the things he was truly +proud of, and everything was done in good season and with perfect +system. Hal said that he and Mary were living with Ben. Father was +surprised at his success, and when, in the winter, he walked in with a +dozen brooms of his own make, Aunt Hildy said: + +"Industry and economy were two virtues that the Lord would see well +rewarded. You'll be a rich man and a generous one too. Wish your Aunt +Phebe'd come up to see us." + +"She's coming," said Ben. "I've written to her to come to our house and +stay a week. I want her to come and see my broom-corn room. I'll bet +she'll be interested in it, and I'm going to give her six brooms to take +home with her. But did you know Deacon Grover's very sick?" + +"Why, no, indeed!" said I. + +"Well, he is, and Mrs. Grover wants Louis to come over. He'd better go +back with me. They expect he'll die; he is troubled to breathe." + +I called Louis and he went over. He came back to supper and told us he +was going to stay with him all night. + +"Mr. Davis says he cannot save his life, and they are to have Dr. Brown +from the village. The man is terribly frightened; he knows he must go. +He says he's afraid he has been too mean to get into heaven, and he +moans piteously. His poor wife is nearly distracted." + +"Shall I go with you, Louis?" I said. + +"You might go over but I hardly think I need you all night there. He has +been ill more than a week. I should not be surprised if he left us +before morning." + +"Small loss to us," said Aunt Hildy, "but if the poor critter knows he's +been mean, perhaps he'll see his way through better. I'll go over if it +wont torment him." + +"You are just the one," said Louis. + +"Well, I hope I sha'nt set him to thinking about--never mind what I say. +Let me get my herb bag and start along." + +We found the poor man no better, and wise Dr. Brown shook his head +ominously. He was a regular grave-yard doctor, and I thought it a pity +to set up the deacon's tomb-stone while yet he breathed. His poor wife +was taking on terribly (as Aunt Hildy expressed it). When Deacon Grover +saw Louis he tried to speak. Louis went near and took his hand, and he +whispered: + +"Peace, you bring me peace." + +"It is all right over there," said Louis; "do not fear." + +"All right," said the sufferer, and then, looking at his wife, he said, +"Be her friend." A smile passed over his face, his eyes closed, and +Deacon Grover was dead. + +Mr. Goodman and Matthias came over to help Louis lay him out, and his +funeral took place from the church the following Sunday. Louis was a +great help to Mrs. Grover and she needed all the aid he could give. Her +spirits were broken in her early days, and she followed the deacon in a +little less than a year, her brain failing rapidly, her body having been +weak for years. + +Many changes had occurred during this year of my life, and when the +beads upon my rosary of years numbered twenty-two, it seemed hardly a +day since I had counted twenty-one. How little time from one birthday to +another, and in childhood how long the time between! + +I was growing older, and the days challenged each other in their +swiftness, but they were all pleasant to me, even though the church-bell +often tolled the passing of souls, and the quiet of our hills was broken +by the ringing of improvement's hammer as it fell on the anvil of our +possessions. Long lines of streets passed through the meadow-lands, and +where, in less level places, rocks and stones were in the path, the +power of inventive genius was applied and the victory gained. Some of +our people felt it keenly. To father it was an advantage, but to Aunt +Hildy, the opposite. + +"Goin' to pass right through my nest, Mr. Minot, and I tell you it aint +so easy to think of that spot of ground as a grave-yard. 'Twont be +nothin' else to me, never. Oh, the years I bury there!" + +Father ventured to suggest remuneration. + +"No, no, nothin' can't pay; they don't know it, Mr. Minot, but it's a +bitter pill." And a shadow overspread her resolute features. She +determined on making our house her home "forever and a day arter" she +said, and bore it as patiently as she could; but I saw great drops fall +from her eyes as she looked over to that little home and watched its +demolition. She said she had prayed for a strong wind to do the work, +but this was not granted. My own heart leaped to my throat in sympathy, +but knowing her so well I said nothing. + +Louis was more than busy. I wondered when my birthday came if he would +remember it. He did, and all the evening of that day we sat together and +talked of our future. + +"Emily, I am feeling glad to-night; my heart sings loud for joy. You +cannot think how beautiful you have grown in my eyes; even though you +filled my heart long days ago, that heart-room does expand with growth, +and your queenly beauty still fills it to completeness. Let your hair +fall over your shoulders; look out over the future days with your +speaking eyes as if you were a picture, my Emily." And as he said this +my shell-comb was in his hand and my long and heavy hair lay about me +like a mantle. He liked to see it so, and I sat as if receiving a +blessed benediction. + +"Can you see nothing before you?" he asked. + +"Mists, like drapery curtains, shade the days," I said: "What is it you +would have me find?" + + "Find the month of June's dear roses, + Find a trellis and a vine; + Ask your heart, my queenly darling, + If the sun will on us shine, + And my heart, love's waiting trellis, + Then receive its clinging vine. + Have I spoken well and truly? + Does your soul like mine decide? + And, with June's dear wealth of roses, + Shall I claim you for a bride? + Do the old hills answer, darling? + Unto me they seem to say: + 'Two young hearts in truth have waited; + Emily may name the day.'" + +As the words of his impromptu verse died away, the moon, looking through +the rifted clouds, beamed an affirmation, and I said: + +"Let June be the month, Louis; the day shall name itself." + +Clara called: "It is nine o'clock, my dear ones;" and we said "good +night." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +EMILY'S MARRIAGE. + + +Louis' birthday came on the 24th of June, and it seemed very appropriate +to me that this should be the day of our wedding, and, as I said to him; +the day named itself, and it also came on Sunday. I had no thought of +being married in the old church, but Louis was positive that it would be +best. + +"You know," he said, "that all these good people around us feel an +interest very natural to those who are acquainted with everybody in +their own little town. They will enjoy our marriage in the church where +all can come and none be slighted, and the evening after they can be +invited to call on us at home." + +"Oh, Louis!" I said, "I would much rather go quietly over to Mr. +Davis'." + +"Yes, Emily," he replied, "to take one of our pleasant walks over the +hill and step in there; but after all I can see how it will be wiser for +us not to be selfish in this matter. Never mind how we feel: these +friends of ours are of much account, and the many new thoughts that +brighten their existence as well as our own must fall, I believe, on us +as a people as well as individually. A private wedding will cause unkind +remarks, and perhaps unpleasant feelings, and idle conjectures may grow +to be stern realities. Let us avoid all this, and as we have heretofore +been among them, let us still keep our vessel close to the shore of +their understanding, though we may often drift out into the ocean unseen +by them, and gather to ourselves the pearls of new and strengthening +thought 'Let him who would be chief among you be your servant.' Do you +understand me?" + +"I do, Louis, and 'Emily will do it,' for she knows you are right; but I +should never have thought of it; and now another important +consideration." + +"The bridal robe?" said Louis. + +"Yes," I said, "just that; the thought of being elaborately dressed is +distasteful to me as well as unsuited to our desires, for a wedding +display would certainly arouse the spirit of envy if nothing more." + +"Trust that to little mother, Emily; she desires to have that privilege, +I know." + +"Let it be so." + +And here we fixed the arrangement for the birthday and wedding day to be +one; but it came on a Sunday, and hence the necessity of a talk with Mr. +Davis, which resulted in the arranging for a short afternoon sermon, and +after it the ceremony. We were not to enter the church until the proper +moment, and Ben said he could manage it, for when the minister began his +last prayer he would climb the rickety ladder into the old square box of +a belfry and hang out a yard of white cloth on a stick. + +"And then," he added, "you can jump right into the wagon and be there in +three minutes." + +He was the most perfect boy to plan at a moment's notice, but Louis +told him not to hazard his life on the belfry ladder for we could manage +it all without. + +"And besides," he said, "you, Ben, must walk into church with us; we are +not going unprotected. Hal and Mary, Ben and little mother, and Mr. +Minot with his wife and Aunt Hildy. That is the programme as I have it." + +You should have seen those eyes of the young farmer dilate with surprise +as he gave a long and significant whistle and turned toward home, +doubtless thinking to surprise Hal and Mary with this new chapter in his +experience. + +The 10th day of June brought us a letter from Aunt Phebe with news of +her marriage. + +"Weddins don't never go alone more'n funerals," said Aunt Hildy. "Here +Miss Hungerford's been married since February, and we've just heard tell +of it. Hope she's got a good, sensible man, but 'taint likely; no two +very sensible folks get very near each other, that is, for life. She's a +good woman. What does he do to git a livin'?" + +"Teaches school," I replied. + +"Hem!" said she, "school teachers don't generally know much else. +Eddicated men aint great on homelife; they want a monstrous sight of +waitin' on." + +"Let us hope for the best in this case," said I. "Here comes Matthias; +he knows Mr. Dayton, I believe." + +"Yas, Miss Em'ly, I does," said Matthias, who heard my last remark. + +"Is he a nice man?" + +"Um, um! reckin that jes' hits dat man; why, de good Lord bress us ef +dat man ha'nt done, like he was sent, fur de slaves, Miss Em'ly. He +knows jes' whar dat track is,--de down-low track, I means, whar de +'scapin' from de debbil comes good to dese yere people when dey gits +free. Mas'r Sumner an' a'heap mo' on 'em would jes' like fur to kill dat +Mas'r Dayton ef dey could cotch him. Preaches like mad his ablishun +doctrine, as he call it, an' down on rum, sure sartin. He works jes' all +de time fur de leas' pay you never heard tell of. Is he comin' up yere?" + +"I hope so, some time; but he is Aunt Phebe's husband now, and we want +to know something about him." + +"I reckin dat ye needn't be oneasy, honey, 'bout dat, fur Miss +Hungerford is 'zackly de one fur to take ker ob dat man; he's got his +head 'way up 'mong de stars, an' 'way down in de figgerin' mos' all de +time." + +"Do you mean that he is an astronomer, Matthias?" + +"Dunno nothin' 'bout dat, but he looks into de stars straight through a +shiny pipe, Miss Em'ly, dat he sticks up on tree leg; an' when dem peart +fellers In dat college where dey lives, gits into figgerin whar dey's +done stuck and can't do it no how, dey comes right down to dat man, an' +he trabbles 'em right out ob all dese yere diffikilties. Um, um! dat man +knows a heap ob dem tings. Miss Hungerford's all right. 'Pears like +dere's good deal ob marryin' roun' de diggins." + +"You set the example," I said, "and the rest must follow. Louis and I +expect your hearty congratulations when our day comes to step out of the +world." + +"You kin 'pend on good arnest wishes for a heap o' comfort, Miss Em'ly, +but 'stead o' leavin' the world you jes' gits into it; dunno nothin' +'bout livin' till ye hev to min' eberything yourself. But I 'spect +you'll walk along purty happy-like, fur Mas'r Louis he's done got hevin +right in his soul, an' you, Miss Em'ly, 'pears like you's good enough +fur him." + +And the old man stood before me like a picture, his eyes beaming with +the thoughts which filled his soul, utterance to which he could not +wholly give; and I thought they grew like a fire within him, and that +some day, beyond the pale of human life, they would speak with force and +power, and all the buds of beauty there burst into flowers of eternal +loveliness. And I said to him, as he rose to go: + +"Your good wishes are worth much to me; I want you always for my +faithful friend." + +"Dat's jes' what I'se gwine to be," he replied, and as he passed along +the path, I thought I saw the corner of his coat sleeve near his eye. + +The 24th of June was a royal day. The blue sky flecked with fleecy +clouds sailing over us like promises; the air sweet with the mingling +breath of flowers (we had multitudes of them about us). The south wind +came up to us as pleasant breaths that sought our own, and the robins +and blue-birds sang in the trees all day the song, "It is well." My +heart echoed their music, and I moved in a dream, and when I felt +Clara's fingers wandering over my hair I could not realize that her +noble Louis was waiting to claim me as his wife--plain Emily Minot. But +the blue-birds' "It is well" covered all these thoughts. + +"Just a white dress, Emily, and violets to fasten your hair," said +Clara, "which I will coax to curl for this one day." + +And so, from under her hands, I came in a simple toilette of white mull, +with my much-loved violets fastened at my throat and nestling among my +black hair. Not a jewel save the ring that Louis had given me in the +days before, and the chain, which was just one shining thread about my +throat. I must have looked happy, but more than this I could not see, +even though I hazarded a long, full look in Clara's mirror. + +But Louis, ah! he should have stood beside a princess, I thought. It was +contrast, not comparison, when I stopped to realize the difference. It +was not his garb that made him regal, for he was clad in a suit of +simple black with a vest and necktie of spotless white. + +"A violet or two in your coat lappel?" said Clara. + +"No, no, little mother; my royal rose begirt with violets will stand +beside me. Put them in your own brown hair." + +And he smiled, as taking them from her hand he placed them in her hair. + +"Just a veil over your head, little mother; no bonnets among the wedding +party." + +Aunt Hildy insisted at first that she could not "parade around that +church and stand up there before the minister. I'd feel like a reg'lar +idiot, Louis." + +At last she changed her mind, but preferred to walk with Ben, and he, +who always loved her well, did not object. + +So our entrance by one of the side aisles (the body of the church was +filled with pews) was in the following order: Father, mother and Clara, +Louis and Emily, Hal and Mary, and Ben and Aunt Hildy. The latter would +walk to the church anyway, and when our old carryall reached the door, I +felt like screaming to see her sitting there on the steps fanning +herself with her turkey-feather fan and waiting for us to appear. We all +entered with uncovered heads, and as our feet crossed the threshold the +choir sang one verse of "Praise ye the Lord." Mr. Davis had descended +from his pulpit and stood before it upon a little elevated platform +arranged for special occasions. Mother, father and Clara passed him +where he stood, leaving the place for Louis and myself before him, with +Hal and Mary, Ben and Aunt Hildy at Louis' left. It was a short and +beautifully-worded ceremony, and when my eyes, already moist, looked +upward to the pulpit and noticed a drapery of rose and vine which +encircled it, those same tears fell fast over my cheeks, and while +Louis' "I will" fell as a clear and strong response upon the air, my own +assent was given silently and with only a slight bowing of my head, my +lips murmuring not a syllable. After pronouncing us man and wife, Mr. +Davis, at Louis' request, gave an invitation to all our friends to call +on us the following evening, and again the choir and the people sang +sweetly and with great feeling, as, turning, we passed down the opposite +aisle toward the door. + +When about half way to the door I was conscious of seeing Aunt Peg and +Matthias; a moment more, and she with her white apron, and he with his +high hat full of roses, were walking before us and throwing them in our +path. + +When we reached the door they stepped to either side, and still throwing +roses, Matthias said in a tone I shall never forget: + +"May de days do for ye jes' what we's doin' now, scatter de roses right +afore ye clear to de end ob de journey." + +This touched our hearts, and when we got into the carryall all eyes were +moist, and I of course was crying as if my best friend were dead. Aunt +Hildy said: + +"Lord-a-massy! wonder he hadn't hit us in the head; that's the queerest +caper I ever did see." + +We all laughed heartily, and Louis said: + +"My Emily, you are a rainbow of promise; the sun shines through your +tears." + +We had made preparations to receive our friends Monday evening, and had +huge loaves of cake awaiting with lemonade, and something warm for those +who desired it. An ancient service of rare and unique design was brought +out by Clara for the occasion. It belonged to her husband's family in +France and came to him as an heirloom. The contrast between it and the +mulberry set which mother gave me struck me as singular, but the flowers +and figures of the mulberry ware did not fall into insignificance. They +were to me the embodiment of beauty. Among my earliest disappointments +was the giving of grandmother's china to Hal, and I cried for "just one +saucer," and this was a fac-simile and met a hearty appreciation. I +bedewed it with tears, and Aunt Hildy said it was dretful dangerous to +give me anything, and she should'nt try it. + +"You'll want two or three handkerchiefs to cry on to-night, for the +folks'll bring over a lot o' things to you." + +"I do not expect a single present, neither desire any if I have to make +a speech," I said. + +"Keep close to me, Emily," said Louis, "and I will make the speeches if +it becomes a duty." + +I feared Clara would get tired out, but she said: + +"Oh, no, they will come early, you know, and go away early also, and +with you and Louis to hold me up I shall be borne on wings!" + +At six o'clock they began to appear. We had our supper at four, and were +ready to receive them. Louis and I sat in Clara's sitting-room, and Aunt +Hildy said: + +"It's my business to 'tend to the comin' in. 'Better to be a door-keeper +in the house of the Lord, than dwell in the tents of wickedness;' so +that's settled." And with this she established herself in a chair before +the open door. Mother was near to assist, and I smiled to hear Aunt +Hildy repeat: + +"Good arternoon; lay by your things," until I thought her lips must be +parched with their constant use. I was not prepared for the +demonstration of love and friendship coming from these people of our +town; for, until Louis and Clara came to us, I had, as I told you in the +beginning of my story, not longed for their society, and had found few +for whom I really cared. It was only from learning my duty, when my +eyes, with the years and the wisdom Clara brought, were opened, that I +could see the advantage gained by considering with respect even those +whom I had dominated as selfish. Miserly and mean Jane North had grown +into a different woman, and Deacon Grover had left us, blessing the love +and strength of this wisdom which brought peace to cover the last hour +of struggle; and many hearts, in the quiet ministering of one angel, had +been touched. Home friends were growing round us I knew, but I had no +realization of things as they really were, and the events of this +greeting gave me a substantial evidence which was to my soul a platform. +On it I reared a temple of love, and in the windows of my temple every +face and heart and gift were set, as pure crystal in the sash of +delightful remembrance. + +First came the Goodins, and their hands yielded to us thoroughly +appreciated gifts: one dozen linen towels spun, woven and bleached by +the hands of Mrs. Goodwin; her husband adding for Louis the solid silver +knee and shoe buckles his grandfather wore when a revolutionary officer, +the trusty sword that hung by his side, and his uniform coat with its +huge brass buttons, with the trunk of red cedar where for years they +have been kept. + +"Thank you," we both said simultaneously, and they passed along for +others to come near. Not one of all that country town forbore to come +and bring also tokens of their kindly feeling. Among the early arrivals +was Jane North. I heard Matthias say: + +"Be ye goin' to tote it in there?" and, as Jane answered resolutely, "I +certainly am," I looked toward the door to see what it was that was +approaching. At my feet Matthias dropped his burden, and the donor said: + +"There is a goose-feather bed and a pair of pillows, and I picked every +feather of 'em off my geese; them two linen sheets and two pair of +piller-cases done up with 'em I made myself. I want you to use that bed +in your own room, Mis' _De_-Mond (I started to hear that name applied to +myself), and for the sake of the good Lord who sent salvation to me +through your blessed mother-in-law, in prayer for yourself don't never +forget me. I've said all the hateful things I ever mean to." + +She held her hands out to us both, and we mingled our tears of gratitude +with those that filled her eyes. + +"Thank you," I said. + +"God bless your true heart," said Louis, "and may your last days be your +happiest." + +"Amen," said Jane, and she passed into the next room, Matthias putting +the present in a corner where it would take less space. Mr. Davis +followed her, and beside him stood a clock which father had helped him +to bring in. + +"This clock, my young friends, is the one which has stood in the corner +of my study for years. I have taken an especial pride in its unvarying +correctness, and the man in the moon is unfailing in his calculation, +showing his face at the appropriate season. The clock's tick is strong +and well becomes the old veteran, and the coat of mahogany he wears is +one that can never need a stitch. To you, above all others, I would +yield this treasure; it is worth far more to me than any gift I might +purchase, and I know that you," turning to Louis, "rejoice in keeping +bright the old-time landmarks linking forever the past and the present." + +This brought Louis to his feet, and Clara and myself rose too, for his +arms encircled us. + +"Mr. Davis," he said, grasping his outstretched hand, "you have done me +great honor; may I have the pleasure to retain through endless ages the +confidence you place in me and my blessed wife, my Emily." + +"The years will brighten the lustre of your true heart," said Mr. +Davis; and here his wife handed me a patchwork quilt, while her husband +said: + +"May your lives and loves be welded by a double chain as long as my +wife's handiwork shall last." + +It seemed to me I could not bear all this, and when father came forward +at this moment and handed me a deed of some of his best land, I should, +I believe, have screamed had not Louis' hand held me tightly. Gifts +multiplied like flakes of falling snow, until we were surrounded by +them. I can only mention a few more, and before me rise plainly now the +faces of Aunt Peg and Matthias, as bowing low before me they laid at our +feet their offerings. + +"Only jest a little intment; that's all they is when we looks at the +rest; but we wanted to bring you sunthin'," said Aunt Peg. + +A beautiful mat bordered with her own choice of bright colors, a +clothes-basket made by Matthias, and in the latter three pairs of +beautifully-knitted wool stockings for Louis. + +"Peg spun dis wool," said Matthias, "an' de stockins is good: dis +baskit," he added despairingly, "I tried my bes' to put some sky color +on, but I reckin ef de bluin' bottle had jes' spill over it 'twould do +more colorin' and better too. May de Lord help ye to live an' war it +out, and then I'll make another." + +"That was a good speech," said Louis, and we shook hands with these two +white-hearted friends, and they also passed on out of sight, leaving me +still at the mercy of the coming. + +It seemed to me there could be nothing more to come, when a loud "baa, +baa" started us, and Ben appeared, leading the whitest little lamb you +ever saw. He had tied a blue ribbon about its neck, and it trotted along +up to us as if pleased with the novelty of its situation. + +"Your namesake and my gift," said Ben. I was truly surprised, but +thanked him heartily, and the friends about us laughed immoderately. +This caused the lamb to look for some way out, and Ben went with it at a +quick pace, shouting back, "I raised Emily myself, and she's a beauty." +The next surprise was from Hal and Mary--two pieces from the hand of my +artist brother, "Love's Fawn," and "Aunt Hildy." Duplicates of these +were at that time hastening across the water with Mr. Hanson, who was +anxious to take a venture over for Hal. When they were placed before us, +Louis and myself exclaimed admiringly: + +"How beautiful!" + +Aunt Hildy, who stood near, said, "There, Halbert Minot, you've done it +now!" and passed, like a swift wind through the room. I feared she felt +hurt, but was disarmed of this thought, for she returned in a moment, +and over the statuette she threw her old Camlet cloak. + +"That is my present to you two," she said, standing beside it as if +empowered with authority. "To God's children I give this, and you shall +share it with 'em. I make one provision," she added. "Mis' +Hungerford-Dayton is to have the sleeves for carpet-rags; you can cut it +up when she comes. It's all I've got to give; but the Lord will make it +blest." We took this as a crowning joke; and still to me it seemed to +embrace a solid something, and set me dreaming. + +When the hour of ten arrived the last of our guests were leaving; and, +as I stood at the door with Louis saying "Good-night," the echo of the +words went ringing over the hills; and when it fluttered back, seemed to +my heart to say, "It will be morning soon." + +As we went into the sitting-room, Clara said: "Now that the guests have +all examined my gifts, it will do for my dear ones to look also," and +she led the way into our old middle-room, and pointing to the antique +service, said: + +"These are yours; I have them for my boy. There are false bottoms to the +three largest pieces, and within them you will find the gift your father +left you, Louis, to be given to you when you should become a man. I did +not tell the others of this," she added. "Here, my Emily, is something +you I know will prize,--the set of pearls my Louis Robert gave me on my +wedding day. They are very valuable. Keep them; and if changes should +ever bring want before you, you have a fortune here. See how beautiful +they are." And she held up a string of large, round pearls to which +clung an ornament, in shape somewhat like an anchor, of the same +precious gems, two of which were pear-shaped and very large. The +ear-rings and brooch were of the most exquisite pattern. I had never +seen anything so beautiful, and had no word for expression, and Clara +said: + +"Your eyes tell it all, my royal Emily; you are tired, and the night is +here." + +Then, kissing us both good-night, Louis gathered her in his arms and +carried her over the stairs, saying, as he turned to come down: + +"Pleasant dreams, my fairy mother; your hand is a magic wand." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MARRIED LIFE. + + +I could hardly see where we had room for all the gifts that came to us, +for Clara's part of the house was well filled, and Aunt Hildy's +belongings took nearly all the upstairs room we could spare; but by +moving and shifting, and using a little gumption, as Aunt Hildy +expressed it, they were all disposed of properly. + +The clock occupied a corner in Louis' room, which had been Hal's studio, +and was now to belong, with one other on Clara's side, to us two. Mother +had said before our marriage: + +"I can never let Emily go unless it be absolutely necessary. The boys +are both settled, and I desire Emily to remain here. It would be lonely +for her father and myself should she leave us." + +I had no wish to do so, and Louis and Clara were as one in this matter; +so we were to live right on together, and the convenient situation of +the rooms made it pleasant for all concerned. + +"Don't want no men folks round under foot," Aunt Hildy said, and there +was no need for it, for Louis' room, while accessible, was out of the +way, and it seemed to me as if the plan had fallen from a hand that knew +our wants better than we knew ourselves. What Louis' work would be, I +could not say, neither could he. To use his own language, as we talked +together of the coming days, "I am to be ready to do daily all that my +hand finds to do; and the work for which I am fitted will, I trust, fall +directly before me." He had a right to be called the "Town's Friend," I +thought, for his active brain and tender heart were constantly bringing +before him some errand of mercy, or act of charity, all of which were +willingly and well performed. + +It was not long after our marriage that he was called on to fill Mr. +Davis' place in the pulpit. I trembled to think of it; but you should +have seen Clara when, as we entered the church together, he passed the +pew door to follow Mr. Davis to the pulpit; for the latter, though from +weakness of the bronchial tubes unable to speak, was anxious to be by +the side of his friend, as he verified his prediction. There was a glory +covering Clara's face, and her eyes turned full upon her boy with an +unwavering light of steadfast faith in his power and goodness, as from +his lips fell the text, "If a man die shall he live again?" + +His opening prayer was impressively simple, and the text, it seemed to +me, just like a door which, swinging on its hinges, brought full before +his vision the picture of the life that is and the life that is to come. +His illustrations were so naturally drawn, and so beautifully fitted to +the needs of our earthly and spiritual existence, that I knew no words +had ever thrown around the old church people so wondrous a garment of +well-fitted thought. + +"If this is all," he said, "this living from day to day, oppressed with +the needs of the flesh, we have nothing to be thankful for; but if, as +I can both see and know, man lives again, we have all to give great +praise, and also rejoice through our deeds, that we are the children of +the eternal Father." + +Not a word of utter darkness, not a terrifying picture of a wrathful and +impatient God did he draw, but it was all tenderness and love that found +its way to the hearts of all his hearers; and when, in his own blessed +way, he pronounced the benediction, I felt that a full wave of kindness +covered us all, and I said in my heart: + +"Oh, Louis, Emily will help you; Emily will do it!" + +Mr. Davis' eyes were bright with gratitude and great joy as he greeted +us after the service, and he whispered to me: + +"You are the wife of a minister." + +This was only a beginning, and for months after, every other Sabbath +Louis occupied the pulpit, and to the surprise of Mr. Davis, all those +who had become interested in the dispensation of Mr. Ballou, and who had +now for a long time been to the church where we had heard the sermon +which came as dew to my hungry soul, began to come again to the old +church. Louis' preaching drew them there, and they settled in their old +place to hear, as they expressed it, "the best sermons that ever were +preached." This was pleasant. Louis had said: + +"I cannot subscribe to the articles of your creed, or of any other, but +am willing and anxious to express to others the thoughts that are within +me." + +This made no difference, for they knew he spoke truly, and also that the +armor of his righteousness was made of the good deeds which he performed +daily. It helped Mr. Davis along, and after a time his health became +better; but even then he insisted on Louis preaching often, which he +gladly did. + +On the Christmas of this year, 1846, there was service as usual at our +church, and both Mr. Davis and Louis occupied the pulpit. A Christmas +service was not usual save in the Episcopal church, but Mr. Davis asked +this privilege. His father had been a strict Episcopalian, and he had +learned in his early years to love that church. Our people were not loth +to grant his request, and I think this Christmas will never be +forgotten. + +We took supper at Hal's with Aunt Phebe, who had come with her husband +to pay us, what Mr. Dayton termed, "a young visit." He had perfect +knowledge of the English language, and power to express himself not only +with words, but with a most characteristic combination of them. He said +his wife felt anxious that he should be on amicable terms with her +consanguineous friends, but he expected we should attribute less of +goodness to him than to her, for "Phebe Ann" was a remarkable woman. +"And this," he added, "is why she appreciates me." + +Ben tried in vain to interest him more than a few moments at a time, +even though he displayed his young stock and invited him into the +broom-corn room. + +It was not till he espied a Daboll's Arithmetic in Hal's studio that he +became interested in the belongings of that house, albeit Hal and Mary +had shown him the statuary they so much prized. He looked at the +statuettes and remarked to Hal: + +"You do that better than I do, but what after all does it amount to? It +never will save a man from sin; never break a fetter, or dash away a +wine-cup. But what do you know about figures? Do you think you know very +much?" + +"Not as much as I wish," Ben answered, as Hal smiled at the plain +question. + +"I thought so," said Mr. Dayton; "and the very best thing you can do, +young man, is to come down to my house, or perhaps I can come up here, +and gather some really useful and necessary information about figures. +It will make a man of you. I guess you're a pretty good boy, and you +only need brightening up a little." + +Hal replied: "I wish you would, Uncle Dayton; that is just what I should +like." + +"Well," said he, "it wouldn't do you any hurt to come with him." + +"I should come, too," said Mary. + +"Come right along," was the reply. At supper time he said he preferred a +simple dish of bread and milk, which he seemed to enjoy greatly, and all +the niceties Mary had prepared were set aside unnoticed. + +"Do you know what day you were born on, Ben?" he said. + +"I know the day of the month, sir, but not the day of the week." + +"Tell me the day of the month and year and I will tell you the day of +the week." + +"September 6, 1828." + +"Let's see," said the philosopher, turning his eyes to the ceiling; +"that came on Saturday." + +We all asked the solving of this problem, and the instantaneous result +seemed wonderful. After supper, at our request, he told us his history, +and when we realized that this man had gained for himself all his +knowledge, we looked on him as one coming from wonderland. It was hardly +credible that he should have power to solve the most difficult +mathematical problems, calculate eclipses, as well as do all that could +be required in civil or hydraulic engineering, and that he had +accomplished this by his own will, which, pushing aside all obstacles, +fought for the supremacy of his brain life. His father desired him to +have no book knowledge, and he told us that when a young boy he would +wait for sleep to close his father's eyes, and would then, by the light +of pitch-pine knots and birch-bark in the fireplace, pursue his studies. +This was pursuing knowledge under difficulties which would have proved +insurmountable to many. But not so to Mr. Dayton, for he steadily +gained; and though to an utter disregard for his unquenchable thirst for +knowledge was added the daily fight for bread, he rose triumphantly +above these difficulties, and mastered the most intricate mathematical +calculation with the ease which is born only of a superior development +of brain. Matthias had told us truly, and when he left us for his home +we felt that in him we found new strength for much that was good and +true, and for abhorrence of evil. + +During this visit the Camlet cloak was brought out, and Aunt Phebe and I +together ripped out the sleeves. She said they would make a splendid +green stripe in a carpet, and in her quiet, careful way she sat removing +their linings, when she started as if frightened, exclaiming: + +"Why, Emily, what on earth does this mean?" + +"What is it?" I said, and she held before me in her hand a long brown +paper, and within its folds were two bills of equal denomination. + +"I wonder if this one has anything in it?" I said, and even as I said it +my fingers came upon a similarly folded paper, and two more bills were +brought to light. They were a valuable gift, and Aunt Phebe's gratitude +gave vent in a forcible way, I knew, for Aunt Hildy told me afterward +she thanked her "e'en a'most to death." I could hardly wait to rip the +body of the cloak, and my surprise was unbounded when I discovered its +contents. + +There were two sums of money left in trust with us, and in her dear, +good way she had made us wondrously grateful to her for the faith she +had reposed in us; a deed of some of her land, which the street had cut +into, which she desired us to use for some one who was needy, unless we +ourselves needed it; and in the last sentences of her message to us she +said: + +"If ever anybody belongin' to me comes in your path, give 'em a lift. I +can trust you to do it, and the Lord will spare your lives, I know. +Don't tell any livin' soul, Emily." This was a sacred message to both +Louis and myself, and I should feel it sacrilege to write it all out +here, even though I much desire to. + +Dear Aunt Hildy! when we essayed to thank her, she said: + +"There, there, don't say a word; I've allus said I'd be my own +executioner, (I did not correct her mistake), and I know that's the way. +You see, some day I'll go out like a candle, for all my mother's folks +died that way, so I want to be ready. The other side of the house live +longer, more pity for it too. They've handed down more trouble than you +know, but I aint like one of 'em; it's my mother I belong to." + +It seemed to me now that the years went like days and the first five +after our marriage, that ended with the summer of 1851, were filled for +the most part with pleasant cares. I was still my mother's girl, and +helped about the house as always before. Of course, some sorrows came to +us in these years, for changes cannot be perfectly like clear glass. Hal +and Mary had held to their hearts one beautiful Baby blossom, who only +lived four months to cheer them, and then passed from their brooding +tenderness on to the other side. We sorrowed for this, and "Love's Fawn" +had pale cheeks for a long time. Hal feared she would follow her child, +and it might have been had not a somewhat necessary journey across the +Atlantic brought great benefit to her. + +The venture Mr. Hanson had made had proved so eminently successful, that +when, this year, he again went to the Old World, it was deemed wise and +right for them to accompany himself and family. I almost wanted to go, +too, and when Hal sent back to us his beautifully written account of all +he saw, I stood in spirit beside him, and anticipated many of his +proposed visits. They both returned with improved health and added +fortune. + +The mining fever of 1849 took a few of our townspeople from us. Aunt +Phebe wrote us that her second son had gone to find gold, and Ben had a +little idea of trying the life of a pioneer; but the sight of the +waiting acres, which he hoped some day to call his, detained him, and he +still kept on making a grand success of farming, for he was doing the +work he desired and that which he was capable of carrying to a +successful end. + +Louis' work had lain in all directions; helping Mr. Davis still as his +varying strength required, interesting himself in the improvements about +us, etc. Gradually widening the sphere of his influence, slowly but +surely feeling his way among human hearts, he could not fail to be +recognized, and after a time to be sought for among such as needed help. +No appeal was ever made in vain from this quarter. + +Capitalists, who had reared in the village below us a huge stone mill +designed for the manufacture of woolens, had made advances which he did +not meet as desired, for their system of operating was disloyal, he +said, to all true justice, encroaching, as it did, upon the liberties of +a class largely represented in this, as well as in all other towns. +Three gentlemen, who represented the main interests, called on Louis, +and he expressed to them what seemed to him to be the truth regarding +this, and said: + +"The years to come will be replete with suffering, and vice, +degradation, and misery are sure to follow in the steps you are taking. +I do not say that you realize this, but if you will think of it as I +have, you cannot fail to reach the same conclusion. You cause to be rung +a morning bell at five o'clock, that rouses not only men from their +slumbers, but the little growing children who need their unbroken +morning dreams. These children must work all day in the close and +stifling rooms of your mill. Their tender life must feel the daily +dropping seed of disease, and with each recurring nightfall, overworked +bodies fall into a heavy slumber, instead of slipping gradually over +into the realm of peace. The mothers and fathers of these children +suffer in this strife for daily bread. Fathers knowing not their +children, and entire families living to feel only the impetus of a +desire to satisfy the cravings of hunger, and to shield themselves from +the cold of winter or the summer's heat. What does all this mean? If we +look at the elder among your employees we shall find men, who, not being +strong enough to work twelve hours a day, naturally, and almost of +necessity, have resorted to the stimulant of tobacco, and the strength +of spirituous liquors. + +"I can personally vouch for the truth of all I say regarding it. The +practice of fathers is already adopted or soon will be adopted by their +children, and by this means the little substance they may gain through +hard toil, for you well know their gain is small if your profit is what +you desire, falls through the grated bars of drunkenness and waste, into +the waiting pit of penury and pauperism. Bear with me, gentlemen, if I +speak thus plainly, and believe me it is for your own comfort as well as +for the cultivation of the untouched soil in the minds of your workmen, +that I feel called upon to address you earnestly. + +"You do not ask, neither would you permit, your wives and children to +work in the mill beside these people, and only the line of gold draws +the distinction between you. There are sweet faces in your mill, there +are tender hearts and there is intellect which might grow to be a power +in our midst. But the sweet faces have weary eyes, the tender hearts +beat without pity, and the strength which might exalt these men and us +as their brothers, becomes the power of a consuming fire, which as time +flies, and our population increases, will burn out all the true and +loyal life that might have developed among us. When our village becomes +a city, we, like other denizens of cities, must see prison houses rise +before us, and to-day we are educating inmates for these walls. Remember +also, that the laces our wives shall wear in those days of so-called +prosperity, will be bought with human life. I will not stand amenable +before God for crime like this. + +"If you will drop your present schemes, if you will be content to share +with these men and children a portion of your profits, to let them toil +eight hours instead of twelve per day, and if on every Saturday you will +give to them one full long day in God's dear sunlight, I will invest the +amount of capital necessary to cover all which you as a body have +invested, and I will stand beside you in your mill. I would to God, +gentlemen, you were ready to accept this offer, for it comes from my +heart, but I can anticipate your reply. You will say I am speaking ahead +of my time, that the world is not ready for these theories, much less +for the practice I desire. And in return I would ask, when will it ever +be? Has any new and valuable dispensation sought us through time, when +hands were not raised in holy horror, and the voice of the majority has +not sounded against it. You are to-day enjoying, in the machinery you +use, the benefit of thought which against much opposition fought its way +to the front. And shall we rest on our oars, and say we cannot even try +to do what we know to be right, because the world, the unthinking, +unmindful world, sees no good in it? It would be easier for many acting +as one man, to move the wheels, but if this cannot be, I must wait as +other hearts have waited, but I will work in any and in all ways to +break the yokes which encircle the necks of our people." + +He paused and looking still earnestly at them, waited a reply. The +eldest said in answer: + +"Mr. Desmonde, while you have spoken that which we have never before +heard, I think I may say for my friends as well as myself, that your +sentiments do not fall on entirely barren soil. While you were talking, +it seemed to me the way looked plain, and I felt to say, Amen. But I +know we are not ready for such a movement as this. Perhaps we ought to +be, and if your picture is a true one, I say from the bottom of my heart +I will for myself try to be of some good. I am willing to be taught +how." + +Louis crossed the room, and offering his hand, said with emotion: + +"Thank God, the truth I uttered found soil. May the years water with the +dews of their love, the one seed fallen on rich ground, and may we, sir, +live to be a unit in our thought and action, and you too, gentlemen," +turning to the two who were silent. + +A short and pleasant conversation followed, and they took their +departure. As they left us, Clara said: + +"Well done, Louis. Here is a work and Emily will help you do it." + +Louis had grown grandly beautiful through these years, and never had he +seemed for one moment careless or unmindful of any simplest need. We +walked together truly, keeping pace through the years whose crown we +wore as yet lightly. He said I grew young all the time, and often, when +thoughts of his work filled his mind, as he sat looking on into the +future, finding one by one the paths which, like small threads running +through a garment, led to the unfoldment of life, he would hold my hands +in his, and when, like a picture, the way and means all made plain, he +would say: + +"My Emily, do you see it? Oh? you have helped me to find it, and still +you see it not; then I must tell you," and he would unfold to me the +work not of a coming day only--but sometimes even that of months and +years. + +He kept the promise made to the mill-owners, and the hearts of the +little operatives knew him as their friend. When the work he was doing +for them commenced, Aunt Hildy had said: + +"That's it; put not your light under a bushel but where men can see it, +Louis, for I tell you the candles you carry to folks' hearts are run in +the mould of the Lord's love, and every gleam on 'em is worth seein'." + +Aunt Hildy's step we knew was growing less firm, and now and then she +rode to the village. Matthias got on bravely, and gloried in the deposit +of some "buryin' money," as he called it, with Louis, who took it to the +bank and brought him a bank-book. + +"Who'd a thought on't, Mas'r Louis, me, an old nigger slave, up heah in +de Norf layin' up money." + +Ben had a saw-mill now of his own, and was an honest and thrifty young +man. Many new houses had been built in our midst, and with them came of +course new people and their needs. + +We had, up to this time, heard often from our Southern Mary, and her +letters grew stronger, telling us how noble a womanhood had crowned her +life, and the latter part of 1851 she wrote us of a true marriage with +one who loved her dearly. Her gifts to Mrs. Goodwin had been munificent, +and well appreciated by this good woman. We hoped some time to see her +in the North. She had never lost sight of Mr. Benton, and he still lived +with his wife and boys. This delighted the heart of Mary, and I grew to +think of him as one who perhaps had been refined through the fire of +suffering, which I secretly hoped had done its work so well that he +would not need, as Matthias thought Mas'r Sumner would, "dat eternal +fire." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +LIFE PICTURES AND LIFE WORK. + + +The pictures Louis painted were not on canvas, but living, breathing +entities, and my heart rejoiced as the years rolled over us that the +brush he wielded with such consummate skill was touched also by my hand; +that it had been able to verify Clara's "Emily will do it," and that now +in the days that came I heard her say "Louis and Emily are doing great +good." I think nothing is really pleasure as compared with the +blessedness of benefitting others. + +My experience in my earliest years had taught me to believe gold could +buy all we desired, but after Clara came to us and one by one the burden +of daily planning to do much with very little fell out of our lives, and +the feeling came to us that we had before us a wider path, with more +privileges than we had ever before known, I found the truth under it +all, that the want of a dollar is not the greatest one in life, neither +the work and struggle "to make both ends meet," as we said, the hardest +to enforce. + +It was good to know my parents were now free from petty anxieties, that +no unsettled bills hung over my father's head like threatening clouds, +and that my mother could, if she would, take more time; to herself. +Indeed she was forced to be less busy with hard work, for Aunt Hildy +worked with power and reigned supreme here, and I helped her in every +way. It was the help that came in these ways, I firmly believed, that +saved mother's life and kept her with us. This was a great comfort, but +none of us could say our desires ended here. + +No, as soon as the vexed question of how to live had settled itself, +then within our minds rose the great need of enlarged understanding. +Millions of dollars could not have rendered me happy when my mind was +clouded, and now it seemed to me, while strength lasted, no work, +however hard it might be, could deprive me of the happiness and love +that filled my heart. I loved to read and think, and I loved to work +also. + +Sometimes when my hands were filled with work and I could not stop to +write, beautiful couplets would come to me, and after a time stanzas +which I thought enough of to copy. In this way I "wrote myself down," as +Louis termed it, and occasionally he handed me a paper with my verses +printed, saying always: + +"Another piece of my Emily." + +May, 1853, brought Southern Mary and her husband to us. We met them with +our own carriage, and within her arms there nestled a dainty parcel +called "our baby," of whose coming we had not been apprised. What a +beautiful picture she was, this little lady, nine months old, the +perfect image of her mother, with little flaxen rings that covered her +head like a crown. I heeded not the introduction to her father, but, +reaching my hands to her, said: + +"Let me have her, Mary, let me take her. I cannot wait a minute." + +Louis gently reminded me that Mr. Waterman was speaking to me, and I +apologized hastily, as I gathered the blossom to my heart, where she sat +just as quiet as a kitten all the way home. Clara was delighted with the +"little bud," as she called her. + +"Tell me her name," I said. + +"Oh! guess it," said Mary. + +"Your own?" + +"No, no, you can never guess, for we called her Althea, after kind Mrs. +Goodwin, who nursed me so tenderly, and Emily, for another lady we +know"--and she looked at me with her bright eyes, while an arch smile +played over her face. I only kissed the face of the beautiful child, and +Louis said: + +"My Emily's name is fit for the daughter of a king. God bless the little +namesake," and Althea Emily gave utterance to a protracted "goo," which +meant, of course, _yes_. + +You should have heard her talk, though, when Matthias came over to see +"Miss Molly." + +"Come shufflin' over to see you," he said, "an' O my! but aint she jest +as pooty. O"--and at this moment she realized his presence, both her +little hands were stretched forth in welcome, and "ah goo! ah goo!" came +a hundred times from her sweet mouth as she tried to spring out of her +mother's lap. + +"Take her, Matthias," I said. + +"Wall, wall, she 'pears as ef she know me, Miss Emily--reckon she's got +a mammy down thar." + +"She has, indeed," said Mary, "and I know she will miss Mammy Lucy. She +was my nurse, and she cried bitterly when we left, but I do not need +her, Allie is just nothing to care for, and I like to be with her +myself, for I am her mother, you know," she added proudly. + +"I mus' know that ole Mammy Lucy, doesn't I, Miss Molly?" + +"Certainly you do, Matthias, and she has sent a bandanna turban for your +wife, and a pair of knitted gloves for you. She told me to say she +didn't forget you, and was mighty glad for your freedom. Father long +since gave her her's and she has quite a sum of money of her own." + +All this time white baby fingers were pawing Matthias' face, as if in +pity, and losing their little tips among his woolly hair. + +When he rose to leave she cried bitterly, and turning back he said: + +"Kin I tote her over to see Peg to-morrer?" + +"Oh! yes," said Mary "give her my love and tell her I am coming over." + +"Look out for breakers," said Aunt Hildy, when she saw the child, "this +house'll be a bedlam now, but then we were all as leetle as that once, I +spos'e," and her duty evidently spoke at that moment, saying, "You must +bear with it." But she was not troubled. + +Allie never troubled us, she was as sweet and sunny as a May morning all +through, and even went to meeting and behaved herself admirably. She +never said a word till the service ended, when she uttered one single +"goo" as if well pleased. Aunt Hildy said at the supper-table she +didn't believe any such thing ever happened before in the annals of our +country's history, + +"She's the best baby I ever see. Wish she'd walk afore you leave." + +"She has never deigned to creep," said Mary; "the first time I tried to +have her, she looked at me and then at her dress as if to say, "That +isn't nice," and could not be coaxed to crawl. She hitches along +instead, and even that is objectionable. I imagine some nice morning she +will get right up and walk." At that moment Allie threw back her head of +dainty yellow rings, and laughed heartily, as if she knew what we said. + +Mrs. Goodwin claimed the trio for one-half of the six weeks allotted to +their stay, and she said afterward: + +"They were three beautiful weeks with three beautiful folks." + +Louis at this time was working hard with the brush of his active +goodness, and had before him much canvas to work upon. The days were +placing it in his view, and we both dreamed at night of the work which +had come and was coming. + +It was a sunny day in June when he said: "Will my Emily go with me +to-day? The colors are waiting on the pallet of the brain, and our hands +must use them to-day." + +"Your Emily is ready," I replied, "and Gipsy (our horse) will take us, I +guess." + +We went first to Jane North's, and Louis said to her; + +"Jane, are you ready now to help us as you have promised?" + +"Yes, sir," she replied; "I am." + +"Will you take two boys to care for; one eleven years of age, and the +other twelve?" + +"I'll do just what you say, or try to, and if my patience gives out I +can tell you, I 'spose, but I'm bound to do my duty, for I scolded and +fretted and tended to other folk's business fifteen years jist because +my own plans was upset, and I couldn't bear to see anybody happy. Well, +'twas the power of sin that did it, and if some of the old Apostles fell +short I can't think I'm alone, though that don't make it any better for +me. When are they coming?" + +"To-night, I think. Give them a good room and good food, and I will +remunerate you as far as money goes. I would like you to take them; you +are so neat and thrifty, and will treat them well. When they get settled +we will see just what to do for them," said Louis, and we drove on to +the village. Our next stopping-place was found in the narrowest street +there, and where a few small and inconvenient dwellings had been erected +by the mill owners for such of their help as could afford to pay only +for these miserable homes. They looked as if they had fallen together +there by mistake. And the plot of ground which held the six houses +seemed to me to be only a good-sized house lot. We stopped at the third +one and were admitted by a careworn woman, who looked about fifty years +of age. She greeted us gladly, though when Louis introduced me, I knew +she felt the meager surroundings and wished he had been alone, for her +face flushed and her manner was nervous. I spoke kindly and took the +chair she proffered, being very careful not to appear to notice the +scantily furnished room. + +"Well," said Louis, "Mrs. Moore, are you ready to let your boy go with +me?" + +"Oh, sir," she said, "only too willing; but I have been afraid you would +not come. It seemed so strange that you should make us such an offer--so +strange that you can afford to do it, and be willing, too, for +experience has taught us to expect nothing, especially from those who +have money. But Willie's clothes, sir, are sadly worn. I have patched +them beyond holding together, almost; but I could get no new ones." + +"Never mind that," said Louis. "We will go to the mill for him and his +little friend, too, if he can go." + +"Oh! yes, sir; he can, and I am so glad, for the father is a miserably +discouraged man. He drinks to drown trouble, and it seems to me he will +drown them all after a little. A pleasant man, too. His wife says poor +health first caused him to use liquor." + +We then called on the woman in question and obtained her tearful +consent, for while the promise of a home for her boy was a bright gleam, +she said: + +"He is the oldest. Oh! I shall miss him when we are sick." + +"He shall come to you any time," said Louis, "and you shall visit him." + +And in a few moments we were at the mill. Entering the office, Louis was +cordially greeted by one of the three gentlemen who had called on us. He +evidently anticipated his errand, for he said: + +"So, you are come for Willie Moore and Burton Brown?" + +"Yes, sir," Louis replied. "Can I go to the room for them?" + +"As you please, Mr. Desmonde, I can call them down. Their room is not a +very desirable place for a lady to visit." + +Louis looked at him as if to remind him of something, while I said: + +"My place is beside my husband." + +"Yes," added Louis, "we work together. Come, Emily," and he led the way +to the fourth floor, where, under the flat roof in a long, low room, +were the little wool pickers. I thought at first I could not breathe, +the air was so close and sickening. And here were twenty boys, not one +of them more than twelve or thirteen years old, working through long +hours. The heat was stifling, and the fuzz from the wool made it worse. +They wore no stockings or shoes, nothing but a shirt and overalls, and +these were drenched as with rain. + +As we entered Louis whispered, "See the pictures," and it was a bright, +glad light that came suddenly into all their eyes at sight of their +friend. He spoke to them all, introducing me as we passed through the +long line that lay between the two rows of boys. When we came to Willie +and Burton, Louis whispered to them: + +"Get ready to go with me." + +They went into the adjoining hall to put on the garments which they wore +to and from the mill, and in less time than it takes me to write it, +they stood ready for a start. As we passed again between the lines of +boys Louis dropped into every palm a silver piece, saying, as he did +so: + +"Hold on, boys, work with good courage, and we will see you all in a +different place one of these days." + +"Thank you, sir;" and "yes, sir, we will," fell upon our ears as we +passed out. Our two little proteges ran out in advance. And as I looked +back a moment, standing on the threshold of the large door, I said: + +"It is a beautiful picture, Louis. You are a master artist." + +After again stopping in the office for a few words of conversation with +Mr. Damon, Louis was ready, the boys clambered into our carriage, and we +were on our way to their homes, first stopping to purchase for each of +them a suit of clothes, a large straw hat, and a black cap. The boys +said nothing, but looked a world of wondering thanks. + +Louis made an arrangement for the boys to live with Jane, and to go to +our town school when it began in the fall. + +"This summer," he said to their mothers, "they need all the out-door air +and free life they can have to help their pale cheeks grow rosy, and to +give to their weak muscles a little of the strength they require. I +desire no papers to pass between us, for I am not taking your children +from you, only helping you to give them the rest and change they need to +save their lives. They are the weakest boys in the mill and this is why +I chose them first. Every Saturday they shall come home to you, and stay +over the Sabbath if you desire, and they shall also bring to you as much +as they could earn in the mill. Will this be satisfactory?" + +Both these mothers bowed their heads in silent appreciation of the real +service he was rendering, and I knew his labor was not lost. I felt like +adding my tribute to his, and said: + +"Your boys will be well cared for, and you shall come often to see us. +We expect you to enjoy a little with them." + +"Oh! mother, will you come over and bring the children?" said Willie. + +"And you, too, mother," echoed Burton. + +Weary Mrs. Moore said: + +"I would like to breathe again in the woods and on the mountains, but I +have five little ones left here to care for;" and Mrs. Brown added: + +"I could only come on Saturday, and the mill lets out an hour earlier, +and your father needs me on that day more than any other." + +Her sad face and tearful eyes told my woman's heart that this was the +day he was tempted more than all others, and I afterward gathered as +much from Burton. + +"Well, we must turn toward home," said Louis, and the boys kissed their +mothers and their little brothers and sisters, and said "good-bye," and +each with his bundles turned to the carriage. Louis untied Gipsy, and I +said to the mothers: + +"Were they ever away over night?" + +"No, never," said both at once. + +"I will arrange for them. You shall hear to-morrow how the first night +passes with them." + +"I was just thinking of that," said Mrs. Brown; "God bless you for your +thoughtfulness," and getting into the carriage, we all waved our +good-byes, and turned toward home. We told Jane all we could to interest +her, and particularly asked her to make everything pleasant for them, +that they should not be homesick. Louis went to their room with them, +and when we left them at Jones' gate, Willie Moore shouted after us: + +"It's just heaven here, ain't it?" + +He was an uncommonly bright little boy, and yet had no education +whatever beyond spelling words of three letters. He was twelve years of +age, and for three years he had worked in the mill. Clara and all at +home were delighted with our work, and Aunt Hildy said: + +"Ef Jane North does well by them boys, she oughter have a pension from +the Gov'ment, and sence I know that'll never give her a cent, I'll do it +myself. I've got an idee in my head." + +Then Southern Mary and her husband laughed, not in derision, for they +admired Aunt Hildy, and Mr. Waterman said: + +"If men had your backbone, Mrs. Patten, there would be a different state +of things altogether." + +"My husband is almost an Abolitionist," said Mary. "Some of our people +dislike him greatly; but my father is a good man and he does not +illtreat one of his people. He is one of the exceptional cases. But the +system is, I know, accursed by God. I believe it to be a huge scale that +fell from the serpent's back in the Garden, and I feel the day will dawn +when the accursed presence of slavery will be no longer known." + +"Good!" said Aunt Hildy, "and there's more kinds than one. Them little +children is slaves--or was." + +"When you get ready to make out your pension papers, Mrs. Patten," said +Mary, "let me help jest a little; I would like to lay a corner-stone +somewhere in this village for some one's benefit. You know this is the +site of a drama in my life; I pray never to enact its like again." + +"I'll give you a chance," said Aunt Hildy. + +Louis went over to Jane's in the morning, and the boys returned with him +to tell us what a good supper and breakfast they had had. + +"And such a nice bed," added Burton. "When we looked out of the window +this morning I wished mother could come." + +"Poor little soul!" I said, "your mother shall come. We will move every +obstacle from her path." + +"If father could find work here it would be nice," and a little while +after, he said in a low tone: + +"There ain't any rum shops here, is there?" + +He was a tender plant, touchingly sensitive, and when I told him we were +to send word to his mother that he liked his home, his joy was a +pleasure to witness. + +"Miss North says we may have some flowers, and we'd better go back, +Willie, and see about getting the spot ready--she had her seed box out +last night, but I guess she'll give us plants too, to put in the +ground." + +He was very thoughtful, and would not stay too long for anything, he +said. Aunt Hildy looked after them, and sighed with the thoughts that +rose within, but said no word. + +The three weeks of Mr. and Mrs. Waterman's stay were at an end. + +"On the morrow," said Mary, "we go to Aunty Goodwin's. I want to go, and +dread to leave. But is that Matthias coming over the hill? It is, and I +have something to tell him. I have meant to do it before, but there was +really no opportunity. Come out with me, and let's sit down under the +elm tree while I tell him. Come, Allie," and she lifted the blue-eyed +baby tenderly. Oh, how sweet she was! and I wondered how we could bear +to lose her. She crowed with delight at Matthias' approach, and at +Mary's suggestion he took a seat beside us. + +"I have something to tell you now; open wide your ears, Uncle Peter." + +"What's dat you say, Miss Molly; got some news from home?" + +"Yes, I have news for you from your own." + +"Oh, Miss Molly, don't for de Lord's sake wait a minit!" + +"Your wife, whom Mr. Sumner so cruelly sold for you, is very happy now, +for she is free, Matthias." + +"Done gone to hevin, does you mean? Tell it all," said the old man, who +trembled visibly. + +"She did not live two months, but she was in good hands. I accidentally +met her mistress, who told me about her. She said she had kept her in +the house to wait on her, for she liked her very much. But she seemed +sad, and grew tired, and one morning she did not appear, and they found +her in her little room, next that of Mrs. Sanders, quite dead and +looking peaceful and happy. Her mistress felt badly, for she meant to do +well by her. They thought some heart trouble caused her death." + +"Oh, my! oh, my! dat heart ob hern was done broke when dat man sold our +little gal. Oh, I knowed it ud neber heal up agin! but tank de Lord +she's free up dar. Oh, Miss Emily! can't no murderers go in troo de +gate? Dat Mas'r Sumner can't neber get dar any more, Miss Molly?" + +"Yes, Matthias. Dry your tears, for I've something good to tell. Your +oldest boy, John, has a good master, and is buying his freedom. They +help him along. He drives a team, and is a splendid fellow. He will be +free soon, and will come to see you, perhaps to live with you. This is +all I know, but isn't it a great deal?" + +Matthias stood on his feet, his eyes dilating as they turned full on +Mary, his hands clenched, his form raised as erect as it was possible +for him, and his breast heaving with great emotion, as from his lips +came slowly these words: + +"Do you mean it, Miss Molly? Is you foolin, or is you in dead earnest +for sartin?" + +"It is truth, every word I say." + +"Oh, oh, oh!" and he sank on the seat beside us, covering his face with +both hands, while tears fell at his feet, and as they touched the grass +they shone in the sun like large round drops of dew. I thought they were +as white and pure as though his skin was fair. And he wept not alone, +for we wept with him. + +Allie reached to bury her fingers in his mass of woolly, curling hair, +and as he felt their tender tips, he raised his head and put out his +hands to her, saying: + +"Come, picaninny, come and help me be glad. Oh, Canaan, bright Canaan! +Oh, de Lord has hearn my prayer an' what kin I say, what kin I do, an' +how kin I wait fur to see dat chile? He's jes like his mother, pooty, I +know. Oh, picaninny, holler louder! le's tell it to the people that my +John is a comin' fur to see me, dat he haint got no use fur a mas'r any +more," and up and down he walked before us, while Allie made +demonstrations of joy. + +It was a strange picture. "Oh, Canaan!" still he sang, and "De New +Jerusalem," until I really feared his joy would overcome him, and was +glad to see Louis coming toward us. He took a seat beside me, and I was +about to tell him the wonderful news, when Matthias, who noticed him, +handed Allie to her mother, and falling on his knees before Louis, cried +aloud: + +"Oh, Mas'r Louis, help me, for de good Lord's sake! will you help me, +Mas'r Louis?" + +"Oh, yes, my dear fellow!" and he laid his hand on him tenderly; "tell +me just what you want me to do." + +"Oh, my boy! Miss Molly tells me my own boy John have got his freedom +mos out, an' he's comin' to find me. I can't wait, Mas'r Louis; 'pears +like a day'll be a year. I mout die, he mout die too. I'll sen' him my +buryin' money, an' ef tant enough, can't you sen' a little more? an' +I'll work it out, I will, sure, an' no mistake; fur de sake of the +right, Mas'r Louis, an' for to make my ole heart glad. Will you do it?" + +"I certainly will, Matthias; but you are excited now." + +"Bless ye. May de heavins open fur to swallow me in ef I don't clar up +ebery cent you pays fur me. But you can't tell. Oh, ye don't know!" and +again he walked, clapped his hands, and sang, "Oh, Canaan, bright +Canaan!" till, pausing suddenly, he said, "Guess I better shuffle ober +to tell Peg--'pears like I'm done gone clar out whar I can't know +nothin';" and with "good arternoon" he left us, swinging his hat in his +hand, and singing still "Oh, Canaan!" as he traveled over the hill +toward home. + +We were all glad for Matthias, and Clara said: + +"Let us rejoice with them that rejoice; and Louis, my dear boy, write at +once to the gentleman who owns John, and pay him whatever he says is +due. We can do it, and we should, for the poor, tired heart of his +father cannot afford to wait when a promise lies so near. Let us help +him to lay hold upon it." + +"Amen," said Aunt Hildy. "I'll help ten dollars' worth; taint much." + +"But you shall keep it for John," said Clara; "he will need something +after he gets here." + +The next morning Matthias came to deliver his bank-book to Louis, +saying: + +"Get the buryin' money; get it and send it fur me, please." + +Louis told him to keep his bank-book. + +"You shall see your boy as soon as money can get him here." + +"Oh, Mas'r Louis!" and he grasped both his hands; "de Lord help this ole +nigger to pay you. I's willin' to work dese fingers clean to de bone." + +Our two boys got on bravely. The first Saturday night we sent them home +with loaded baskets, and each with a pail of new milk, which we knew +would be a treat to the children, and in their little purses the amount +promised by Louis. Matthias took them to their homes, and Louis went +for them on Monday morning, and when he returned he said: + +"The pictures are growing, Emily. Bright eyes and rosy cheeks will come +soon." + +Mr. and Mrs. Waterman were leaving us. We were kissing "our baby" +good-bye. How we disliked to say the word! And when looking back at +Matthias after we started, she cried, "Mah, mah!" I laughed and cried +together. Louis and I parted with them reluctantly at the depot, and our +last words were: + +"Send John right along." + +"We will," they answered, as the train rode away and baby Allie pressed +her shining face against the window. It was only two weeks and two days +from that day that Louis, Clara and I (she said after our marriage "Call +me Clara, for we are sisters--never say 'mother Desmonde;' to say mother +when you have such a blessed one of your own is robbery to her") drove +to the depot to meet John. Matthias said to us, + +"You go fur him, ef you please, fur I can never meet him in de crowd; I +want to wait by de road an' see him cum along. Mighty feared I'll make a +noony o' myself." + +The train stopped, and Louis left us in the carriage and went to find +him. My heart jumped as I thought he might not be there, but ere I had +time to say it to Clara, he came in sight, walking proudly erect by the +side of Louis, as handsome a colored man as could be seen. He was quite +light, tall as Louis, and well proportioned, his mouth pleasantly shaped +and not large, his nose suited to a Greek rather than to a negro, and +over his forehead, which was broad and full, black hair fell in +tight-curling rings,--resembling Matthias in nothing save perhaps his +eyes. It did not seem possible this could be a man coming from the power +of a master--how I dislike that term, a slave--this noble looking +fellow; I shuddered involuntarily, and grasped his hand in welcome with +a fervent "God bless you, John; I welcome you heartily." Clara stretched +forth her little hand also, saying: + +"John, you can never know how glad we are." He stood with his hat +raised, and his large beautiful eyes turned toward us filled with +feeling as he answered: + +"Ladies, you can never realize the debt I have to pay you. It seems a +dream that I am here, a free man with an old father waiting to see his +son; oh, sir," and he turned to Louis, "my heart is full!" + +"We do not doubt it, dear fellow, but get into the carriage and let +Gipsy take us to the hills. She knows your father waits. Now go, Gipsy," +and the willing creature seemed inspired, going at a quick pace as if +she understood her mission. + +I saw Matthias sitting on a log a little this side of our home, shading +his eyes with his hand, and when John spied him, he laid his hand on his +heart and said: + +"Please let me get out and walk; excuse me, sir, but I cannot sit here." + +We respected his feelings and held Gipsy back, that he might with his +long strides reach his father before us, which he did. When Matthias saw +him walking toward him, he rose to his feet and the two men approached +each other with uncovered heads. At last, when about ten feet apart, +Matthias stopped and cried: + +"John, oh, John!" + +"Father, father, I am here," and with one bound he reached him, threw +his arms about him, while Matthias' head fell on his shoulder; and here, +as we reached them, they stood speechless with the great joy that had +come to them. Two souls delivered from bondage--two white souls bathed +in pure sunlight of my native skies. I can never forget this scene. We +spoke no word to them, but as we passed them John spoke, saying: + +"Sir, will you take my father's arm? He feels weak and I am not strong." +I took the reins and Louis, springing to the ground, stepped between, +and each taking his arm they walked together up to the door of our home +where Aunt Hildy, mother, father, Ben, Hal and Mary, Mrs. Davis, Jane +North and Aunt Peg, waited to receive them. When Matthias saw Peg he +said: + +"Come, Peg, come and kiss him; this is my John sure enuf." Supper waited +and the table was spread for all. Mr. Davis gave thanks and spoke +feelingly of the one among us who had been delivered from the yoke of +bondage, saying: + +"May we be able to prove ourselves worthy of his great love, and +confidence, and be forever mindful of all those both in the North and +South who wait, as he has waited, for deliverance." Matthias grew calm, +and when they left us to walk home, Louis and I went with them. On the +road over John said to Louis: + +"Sir, I am greatly indebted to you, and I am anxious to go to work at +once and pay my debt." + +"You owe me nothing," said Louis; "I have no claim upon your money or +time; I will help you in every way possible, and my reward will be found +in the great joy and comfort you will bring to your father in his old +age." + +"This is too much," said John. + +"Not enough," said Louis, and at Aunt Peg's vine-covered lattice 'neath +which he stood, we said good-night and turned toward home, while in our +hearts lay mirrored, another fadeless picture. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +JOHN JONES. + + +How the days of this year flew past us, we were borne along swiftly on +their wings, and every week was filled to overflowing with pleasant care +and work. John was called in the South after his master's name, but now +he said, inasmuch as he had left him and the old home in Newbern, it +would seem better to him to be called by his father's name, and so he +took his place among us as John Jones. He went to work with a will, +became a great friend to Ben and helped him wonderfully, for between the +saw-mill, the farm with its stock-raising and broom trade, which really +was getting to be a good business, Ben was more than busy. + +John was a mechanic naturally; he was clever at most anything he put his +mind on, "and never tried to get shet of work;" and his daily work +proved his worth among us. Matthias worked and sang the long days +through, and all was bright and beautiful before him. He tried to think +John's angel mother could look down from "hevin" on him, and it gave him +pleasure to feel so. + +When the fall came John said to Louis: + +"I want to know something. I promised the boys and gals that when I got +free I'd speak a few words for them, and I must learn something." + +So he came regularly to Louis through the winter evenings, and in a +little time he could send a readable letter to the friends down South. +Newbern was a nice place, had nice people, he told us, and he had been +well treated and permitted to learn to read, but the writing he could +not find time to master; he was skilful in figures, and Louis was very +proud of his rapid improvement. + +In our meetings he gradually came to feel at home, and at last surprised +us one evening by a recital of his life, and an earnest appeal to +Christians to forget not those who looked to the star in the North as to +a light that promised them freedom and the comforts of a home. His +large, expressive eyes grew luminous with feeling, and as he stood, rapt +in his own thought, which carried him back to the old home, he seemed +like a tower of strength in our midst, and when at the close of the +meeting, as we walked behind them, he took his father's arm, I heard +Matthias say: + +"John, you's done made me proud as Loosfer." + +And his handsome son bowed his head as he answered: + +"Thank the God who made us all to be brothers that I have the power to +tell these thoughts that rise within me. You feel just as I do, father, +only you can't express it, because they did not let you grow. The heavy +weight of slavery has held you close to the ground, and this is the +foundation of the system. The ignorance of the chattel is the life that +feeds the master's power. Like horses, if slaves knew this power, they +could break their bondage, and no hand on earth could stop them." + +Among the pleasant occurrences of this summer were the picnics of the +mill children, who enjoyed two days in July and two days in August +rambling in the woods and taking dinner in the old hemlock grove, where +the trees had been so lavish of their gifts that a soft carpet of their +fallen leaves covered the ground the long year through. The coolness of +this beautiful shelter was most refreshing, and it seemed as if nature +knew just how much room was needed to spread our lunch-cloth, for there +was the nicest spot in the world right in the heart of the grove, and as +we sat around our lowly table every third or fourth person had a +splendid hemlock tree to lean against. This was a rare treat to the mill +children, and oh, the faces of the pictures we painted in these days. + +Willie and Burton both had their own friends with them, and when in +conversation Louis spoke of the work of repairing the church and putting +in new pews, Burton Brown said: + +"My father can do such work." + +"Can you, Mr. Brown?" said Louis. + +"Yes, sir," he replied; "working in lumber is my trade; change and hard +luck forced me into the mill." + +I cannot tell you of all the events that occurred among us, but when the +smoke from a new chimney rose in the very spot almost where Aunt Hildy's +cottage stood, it was due to the fact that a new double house had been +erected on a splendid lot, and Willie and Burton were living there with +their parents. + +Mrs. Moore had grown young looking, though the grey hairs that mingled +with the brown still held their places. Mr. Brown did not meet +temptations here, and as Aunt Hildy said: + +"Headin' him off in a Christian way was the thing that saved him; poor +critter, his stomach gnawed, and he needed just them bitters I made for +him, and Louis' kind treatment and planning to help him be born agin, +and its done good and strong, jest as I knew it would be." + +Two more little mill boys were brought to Jane to take the places of +Willie and Burton, and Louis kept walking forward, turning neither to +the right nor left, bringing the comforts of living to the hearts that +had known only the gathering of crumbs from the tables of the rich, and +the few scattering pennies that chanced occasionally to fall from their +selfish palms. + +Clara's glad smile and happy words made a line of sunshine in our lives, +and the three years following this one, which had brought so many +pleasant changes, were as jewels in the coronet of active thought and +work, which we were day by day weaving for ourselves and each other. + +When Southern Mary left us, she gave to Aunt Hildy something to help +make out Jane North's pension papers, and the first step Aunt Hildy took +toward doing this was in the fall of 1853, when she painted Jane's house +inside and out. Then in the next year she built a new fence for her, and +insisted on helping Louis make some improvements needed to give more +room, and from this time the old homestead where Jane's father and +mother had lived and died, became the children's home, with Jane as its +presiding genius, having help to do the work. From six to eight children +were with her; three darling little girls whom Louis found in the +streets of a city in the winter of 1855, were brought to the Home by +him, and he considered them prizes. + +To be independent in thought and action was Louis' wisdom. He had regard +for the needs of children as well as of adults, for he remembered that +the girls and boys are to be the men and women of the years to come, and +to help them help themselves was his great endeavor. + +"For this," he would say, "is just what our God does for us, Emily. He +teaches the man who constantly observes all things around him, that the +proper use of his bounty is what he most needs to know, and to live by +the side of natural laws, moving parallel with them, is the only way to +truthfully solve life's master problem. Yea, Emily, painting pictures is +grand work; to see the ideal growing as a reality about us, to know we +are the instruments in God's hands for doing great good; and are not the +years verifying the truth of what I said to you, when a boy I told you I +needed your help, and also that you did not know yourself? I knew the +depth of your wondrous nature. My own Emily, you are a glorious woman," +and as tenderly as in the olden days, with the great strength of his +undying love, he gathered me in silence to his heart. How many nights I +passed to the land of dreams thinking, "Oh, if my Louis should die!" + +Father and mother were enjoying life, and when Aunt Phebe came to see +us, bringing a wee bit of a blue-eyed daughter, she said, "If I should +have to leave her, I should die with the knowledge that she would find a +home among you here." + +"I don't see why we haint thought out sooner," said Aunt Hildy; "you see +folks are ready, waitin', only they don't know whar to begin such work, +and now there's Jane North, I'll be bound she'd a gone deeper and deeper +into tattlin', ef the right one hadn't teched her in a tender spot, and +now she's jest sot her heart into the work, and as true as you live, +she's growin' handsome in doin' it. I'm ashamed of myself to think I +have wasted so much time. Oh, ef I'd got my eyes open thirty years ago." + +"Better late than never," said Aunt Phebe; "live and learn; it takes one +life to teach us how to prize it, but the days to come will be full of +fruit to our children, I hope." + +"Wall ef we sow the wind we reap the whirlwind sure, Miss Dayton." + +Aunt Phebe was very desirous that John should see Mr. Dayton, which he +did, and an offer to study with him the higher mathematics was gladly +accepted, and between these two men sprang a friendship which was +enduring. + +Uncle Dayton had helped many a one through the tangled maze of Euclid +problems and their like, and when John walked along by his side in ease +and pleasure, Mr. Dayton was delighted; and when he came to see us, he +said: + +"The fellow is a man, he's a man clear through. + +"Why," said he, "I was just the one to carry him along all right. I was +the first man to take a colored boy into a private school, and I did it +under protest, losing some of the white boys, whose parents would not +let them stay; not much of a loss either," he added, "though they +behaved nearly as well as the colored boys I took. I belonged at the +time to the Baptist Church; the colored woman, whose two sons I received +into my school, was a member of the same church; three boys, whose +parents were my brothers and sisters in the faith, were withdrawn, and +the minister who had baptized us all, and declared us to be one in the +name of the humble Nazarene, also withdrew his son from my school, being +unwilling to have him recite in the class with these two boys, whose +skin was almost as white as his own. The natural inference was, that he +considered himself of more consequence than the Almighty, for he +certainly had given us all to him, and I had verily thought the man +meant to help God do part of his work, but this proved conclusively that +the Lord had it all to do--at any rate that which was not nice enough +for the parson--and it took a large piece of comfort out of my heart. I +was honest in trying to do my duty, and it grieved me to think he was +not. Another young colored boy whom I took, is a physician in our city +to-day, and another who came to my house to be instructed has been +graduated at the Normal School of our State with high honors, being +chosen as the valedictorian of the class, and he is to-day principal of +a Philadelphia school. + +"I tell you this truth has always been before me, and I have run the +risk of my life almost daily in practising upon it. My school was really +injured for a time, and dwindled down to a few scholars, but I kept +right along, and the seed which was self-sowing, sprang up around me, +and to-day I have more than I can do, and the people know I am right." + +The blue eyes of Mr. Dayton sparkled as he paused in his recital, +running his fingers through his hair, and for a time evidently wandering +in the labyrinthine walks of the soul's mathematics, whose beautifully +defined laws might make all things straight, and it was only the sight +of John's towering form in the doorway that roused him, and he said: + +"I have brought to you Davies' Legendre. I thought he would receive more +thanks in the years to come than now, for is it not always so? Are not +those who move beyond the prescribed limits of the circle of to-day, +unappreciated, and must we not often wait for the grave to cover their +bodies, and their lives to be written, ere we realize what their hearts +tried to do for us? It is a sad fact, and one which shapes itself in the +mould of a selfish ignorance, which covers as a crust the tender growing +beauty of our inner natures. + +It was a cold day in December, 1856, when we were startled to see Jane +coming over the hill in such a hurried way that we feared something was +the matter with the children. These children were dear to me. Hal and +Mary had a beautiful boy two and a half years old, but no bud had as yet +nestled against my heart. + +I met her at the gate and asked, "What's the matter with the children?" + +"Go into the house, Emily _De_-mond, 'taint the children, it's me." She +wanted us all to sit down together. + +"Oh! dear, dear me, what can I do? I'm out of my head almost." + +We gathered together in the middle room, and waited for her to tell us, +but she sat rocking, as if her life depended on it, full five minutes +before she could speak--it seemed an hour to me--finally she screamed +out: + +"He's come back!" + +"Whom do you mean?" I cried, while mother and Aunt Hildy exchanged +glances. + +"He came last night; he's over to the Home, Miss Patten, d'ye hear?" + +"Jane," said Aunt Hildy in a voice that sounded so far away it +frightened me, "do you mean Daniel?" + +"Yes, yes; he's come back, and he wants me to forgive him, and I must +tell it, he wants me to marry him. I sat up all night talkin' and +thinkin' what I can do." + +"Jane," said Aunt Hildy, in that same strange voice, "has he got any +news?" + +"Both of 'em dead. Oh, Miss Patten, you'll die, I know you'll die!" + +"No, I shan't. I died when they went away." + +"What can I do, Miss Patten? Oh, some of you _do_ speak! Mis' _De_-mond, +you tell; you are allus right." + +Clara crossed the room, and kneeling on the carpet before her, said: + +"My dear soul, is it the one you told me of?" + +"Yes, yes," said Jane, "the very one; gall and worm-wood I drank, and +all for him; he ran away and--" + +"Yes," added Aunt Hildy, "tell it all. Silas and our boy went with him, +father and son, and Satan led 'em all." + +"Has he suffered much?" said Clara. + +"Oh, yes, marm, but he says he can't live without me! He hain't never +been married; I'm fifty-four, and he's the same age." + +"Jane," said Clara, "I guess it will be all right; let him stay with +you." + +"How it looks," interrupted Jane; "they'll all know him." + +"Never mind. The Home is a sort of public institution now; let him stay, +and in three weeks I'll tell you all about it." + +"Get right up off this floor, you angel woman, and lemme set on the sofy +with you," said Jane. + +Louis and I left the room, and after an hour or so Jane went over the +hill, and Aunt Hildy stepped as firmly as before she came. Poor Aunt +Hildy, this was the sorrow she had borne. I was glad she knew they were +dead, for uncertainty is harder to bear than certainty. I wondered how +it came that I should never have known and dimly remembered something +about some one's going away strangely, when I was a little girl. My +mother had, like all Aunt Hildy's friends, kept her sorrow secret, and +she told me it was a rare occurrence for Aunt Hildy to mention it even +to her, whom she had always considered her best friend. + +If Jane had not herself been interested, it would have leaked out +probably, but these two women, differing so strangely from each other, +had held their secrets close to their hearts, and for twenty-five long +years had nightly prayed for the wanderers. + +Aunt Hildy's husband was a strange man; their boy inherited his father's +peculiarities, and when he went away with him was only sixteen years of +age. + +Daniel Turner was twenty-nine, and the opinion prevailed that he left +home because he was unwilling to marry Jane, although they had been for +several years engaged, and she had worked hard to get all things ready +for housekeeping. He was not a bad-looking man, and evidently possessed +considerable strength. + +Clara managed it all nicely, and when the three weeks' probation ended, +they were quietly married at Mr. Davis', and Mr. Turner went to work on +the farm which Jane had for many years let out on shares. He worked well +through the rest of the winter, and the early spring found him busy +doing all that needed to be done. + +He was interested in our scheme, and felt just pride in the belongings +of the Home, which was really settling into a permanency. We sometimes +had letters of interrogation and of encouragement as well, from those +who, hearing of us, were interested. + +Louis often said the day would come when many institutions of this kind +would be established, for the object was a worthy one, and no great need +can cry out and not finally be heard, even though the years may multiply +ere the answer comes. + +"Changes on every hand," said Mr. Davis, "and now that the pulpit has +come down nearer to the people, and I can send my thoughts directly into +their hearts, instead of over their heads, as I have been so often +forced to do, we may hope that the chain of our love will weld us +together as a unit in strength and feeling. I almost wish our town could +be called New Light, for it seems to me the world looks new as it lies +about us. The lantern of love, we know, is newly and well trimmed, and I +feel its light can never die; it may give place to one which is larger, +and whose rays can be felt further, but it can never die. I really +begin to believe there is no such thing as death. I dislike the word, +for it only signifies decay. I call it change, and that seems nearer +right." + +"So it is, Mr. Davis," said Clara, as he talked earnestly with us of his +interest in the children and the people about us, "for, even as children +are gradually changing into men and women, so shall our expanding lives +forever climb to reach the stature of our angelhood, which must come to +us when we let the perishable garments fall, and the mortal puts on its +immortality. If we all could only see that our Father will help us to +shape these garments even here; could we know that stitches daily taken +in the garment that our soul desires are necessary that it may be ready +for us when we enter there,--how great would be the blessing! This would +relieve death of its clinging fears, and our exit from earth and +entrance to the waiting city would be made as a pleasant journey. + +"Louis, dear boy, feels all this, and if the cold hearts of speculative +men could be warmed and softened into an unfolding life, he would not +constantly do battle with the wrong; but truth is mightier than error. +God's love must at last be felt, and when the delay is over, how many +hearts, now deaf to his entreaties, will say with one accord, 'we are +sorry, if we could live our days over, we would help you!'" + +Louis did do battle, that is true; he paid due respect to people of all +classes, but fearlessly and trustfully he dealt, both by word and +practice, vigorous blows against all enslaving systems. He said to us +sometimes, that when he went to the mill--as he constantly did, working +until every one of the twenty boys to whom he promised liberty, found +it--he came in contact with three different conditions; he classified +them as mind, heart and soul. "When I talk to them," he said, "or if I +go there on my mission and speak no words, I hear their souls say 'he is +right and we are wrong;' I hear the earthly hearts whisper hoarsely, +'curse the plans of that fellow, he is in our way;' and the worldly +policy of the mind steps forth upon the balcony of the brain and says, +'treat him well, it is the best policy to pursue, for he has money.' +Yes, my Emily, I thank God for the fortune my father left me, hidden in +the silver service. It shall all be used. You and I will use it all. And +was the bequest not typical, its very language being 'a fortune in thy +service, oh, my father!'" + +"I never thought of this; how wonderful you are, Louis," I said. + +"And you, my Emily, my companion, may our work be the nucleus around +which shall gather the work of ages yet to be, for it takes an age, you +know, to do the work of a year--almost of a day." + +Our lives ran on like a strong full tide, and all our ships were borne +smoothly along for four full years. An addition had been made to Jane's +house, and her husband proved loyal and true, so good and kind and +earnest in his work that Aunt Hildy said: + +"I have forgotten to remember his dark days, and I really don't believe +he'd ever have cut up so ef Silas had let him alone." + +Good Mrs. Davis had sought rest and found it, and a widowed niece came +as house-keeper. John Jones was growing able to do the work he promised +the girls and boys down South, and lectured in the towns around us, +telling his own story with remarkable eloquence for one who had no early +advantages. He was naturally an orator, and only needed a habit of +speaking to make apparent his exceptional mental capacity. Aunt Hildy +was not as strong when 1860 dawned upon us, and she said on New Year's +evening, which with us was always devoted to a sort of recalling of the +past: + +"Don't believe I'll be here when sixty-one comes marchin' in." + +Clara looked at her with a strange light in her eyes, and said: + +"Dear Aunt Hildy, wait for me, please; I'd like to go just when you do." + +It was the nineteenth day of April this year, when an answer to a prayer +was heard, and a little wailing sound caused my heart to leap in +gratitude and love. A little dark-eyed daughter came to us, and Louis +and I were father and mother. She had full dark eyes like his, Clara's +mouth, and a little round head that I knew would be covered with sunny +curls, because this would make her the picture I had so longed to see. + +"Darling baby-girl, why did you linger so long? We have waited till our +hope had well-nigh vanished," and the dark eyes turned on me for an +answer, which my heart read, "It is well." + +Louis named her "Emily Minot Desmonde." It was his wish, and while, as I +thought, it ill suited the little fairy, I only said: + +"May she never be called 'Emily did it.'" + +"May that be ever her name," said Louis, "for have you not yourself done +that of which she will be always proud, and when we are gone will they +who are left not say of you, 'Emily did it'? + +"Ah! my darling, you have lost and won your title, and it comes back +shaped and gilded anew, for scores of childish lips have echoed it, and +'Emily did it' is written in the indelible ink of the great charity +which has given them shelter." + +"Louis, too," I said, and he answered: + +"Had I not found my Emily, I could never have undertaken it. You cannot +know how I gathered lessons from your happy home. In my earliest years I +was dissatisfied with the life which money could buy. I did not know the +comforts of work and pleasure mingled, and it was here, under these +grand old hills, while communing with nature, I sought and found the +presence of its Infinite Creator; and your smile, your presence, was a +promise to me which has been verified to the letter." + +When Clara held our wondrous blessing in the early days of its sweet +life, she looked sometimes so pensively absent that I one day asked her +if she did not wish Emily had come sooner. + +"Ah! my Emily, mother; 'tis a wrong, wrong thought, still I cannot deny +it;" and a mist covered her tender eyes. My heart stood still, for I +knew she felt that her hand would not lead our little one in the first +steps she should take, and the thought embittered my joy. I suppose +everybody's baby is the sweetest, and I must forbear and let every +mother think how we cared for and tended the little one, and how our +heartstrings all vibrated at the touch of her little hand, and if she +was ill or worrisome, which she was earthly enough to be, we were all +robbed of our comfort till her smiles came back. + +Aunt Hildy was an especial favorite, and she would sit with her so +contentedly, while that dear old face, illumined by the sun of love, +told our hearts it was good for baby's breath to moisten the cheek of +age. + +Little Halbert, as we called Hal's boy, was as proud of his cousin as +could be, and my old apple tree, which was still dear, dropped leaves +and blossoms on the heads of the children, who loved to sit beneath its +branches. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +CLARA LEAVES US. + + +The year 1861 had dawned upon us, and Aunt Hildy had not left us as she +had expected to. + +I said to her, "I believe you are better to-day than you were one year +ago." She folded her hands and looking at me, said: + +"Appearances is often deceitful, Emily; I haint long to stay, neither +has the saint among us. Her eyes have a strange look in them nowadays, +and the veins in the lids show dreadful plain; we must be prepared for +it." + +I could not talk about this, and how was I to prepare for it? I should +never love her less, and could I ever bear to lose her, or realize how +it would be without her? "Over there" was so far beyond me, I could only +think and sigh and wait; but the symptoms of which Aunt Hildy spoke I +noticed afterward, and it was true her eyelids seemed more transparent, +and her eyes had a watery light. + +I knew she was weak, and since the snow had fallen was chilled more +easily than before, and had ventured out but little. I did not desire to +pain Louis, but feeling uneasy, could not rest until I talked with him, +and he said his heart had told him the little mother would leave us ere +long. "If she lives till the fall, we will go down and see Southern +Mary, if we can." Little Emily clung very closely to Clara, and if I had +not insisted on having the care of her, I believe she never would have +asked for me. Mother said we should spoil her, and Ben declared she +"would make music for us by and by." Ben was still interested in his +work, and as busy as a bee the long days through. + +"Thirty-three years old," I said to him, "are you never to be married?" + +"Guess not," he would reply laughingly, "I can't see how Hal could get +on without me, and I, in my turn, need John. What a splendid fellow he +is! They all like him around us here, and I believe I shall sell out the +mill to him and buy another farm to take care of. He handles logs as +easily as if they were matches. He is a perfect giant in strength." + +"Yes, I know, Ben, but he never will live in a saw-mill. John is +destined to be a public man; he will have calls and by and bye will +stand in the high places and pour forth his eloquence. He may buy a +saw-mill, but he will never keep himself in it, no matter how hard he +tries." + +"So my cake is all dough, you think, so be it, sister mine;" and baby +Emily received a bear hug from Uncle Ben, who, a moment later, was +walking thoughtfully over the hill. + +The eighteenth of March was a cold day, extraordinarily so, tempestuous +and stormy. Louis had been in Boston three days, and we thought the +winds were gathering a harsh welcome for his return. His visits to +Boston were getting to be quite frequent nowadays, for he had found +some warm friends there, who had introduced themselves by letter, and +now they were making united efforts to found a home for +children,--foundlings who were to be kept and well cared for, until +opportunities were presented to place them with kind people in good +homes. He was getting on wonderfully, and I could hardly wait for the +news he would bring to us. + +He came at last, and with him an immense square package looking in shape +very like a large mirror or a painting, and I wondered what it could be. +Baby Emily had to be saluted cordially, and both her little arms were +entwined around his neck. + +"Now, now, little lady," said Louis, "go to thy royal mother, I have +something to show thee," and taking off the wrappings of the mysterious +package, he placed two life-size portraits before us, saying as he did +so: + +"Companion pieces, my life's saving angels--behold yourself, my Emily, +see my fairy mother," and sure enough there we were. A glance at Clara +caused me to exclaim: + +"Wilmur Benton painted them." + +"Yes, both," he replied. "Are they not beautiful?" + +"Mine is not, I am sure, Louis; but your mother's,--oh, how lovely it +is, and as natural as life! It must be the one to which Mary referred." + +"It is, my Emily. I secured it long ago, and Mr. Benton has been a long +time at work on yours. He is sadly afflicted, and does not look like the +same man. His wife is dead, and I think he will not himself stay long. I +have been to see him always when in Boston, and would have told you all +before, had I not feared you might, by getting hold of one thread, find +another; Hal knows all about it. But see, Emily, just see yourself as +you are. I told you your eyes should speak from the canvas, and is it +not as well as if my own hand had held the brush?" + +I looked the words I could not say, and wondered how it came that this +likeness should have been painted without my being before the artist. It +was years since Wilmur Benton left us, and the picture represented me at +my present age, I thought, and I asked: + +"How did he get the expression, Louis?" + +"Oh, Emily, he remembered every outline of your face, and with the +greatest ease defined them! Then from time to time, I sat near and +suggested here or there a change, until at last the work was perfected, +which in all its beauty only tells the truth; you do not see yourself +when your face lights up with glorious thought; the depth of your eyes +was to me always a study, and this man, Emily, carries in his heart +to-day the knowledge of your worth; he holds you and my little mother in +fond remembrance. His soul is purified by suffering, and this last visit +I made him has given him strength to tell me his whole life. When with a +sigh he ended his story, he looked at me sorrowfully, and said: + +"'I suppose you will despise me now, but I feel that after all your +kindness I must tell you, for it is right you should know. Halbert, I +have never told--it is as well not to do so.'" + +"Poor fellow," I said, "and we knew it all before." + +"No, not all; his life has been a drama with wonderfully wild, sad +scenes, and the great waves of his troubles and errors have, at times, +driven him nearly crazy. His eldest son is an artist like himself, and +finely organized. The other is in the West with an uncle of his +mother's. Are you sorry I have done all this? Speak, my beloved." + +My eyes told him that my heart was glad for the little comfort he could +give this man whose perfidy had given me sorrow, and Clara said: + +"To help one lost lamb to find the fold is the blessed work my boy +should always do." + +Aunt Hildy raised both hands at sight of our pictures, exclaiming: + +"Beautiful! beautiful! Splendid! Louis could not have brought us all a +greater surprise, or one that would have been more highly valued." + +Little Emily patted and kissed the faces, and soon learned to designate +them, "pit mam and mam Cla," for pretty mamma and mamma Clara. + +A few weeks after this we were sitting together in earnest conversation; +the small, dark cloud hung over us that threatened civil war, and while +I could hardly believe it possible, Louis and Clara said it must come. +Matthias came in of an errand, and sat down to hear us talk, and when +father said, "Oh, no, we shall not have war; those Southerners are too +lazy to fight," he raised both his hands and exclaimed: + +"Excoose me fur conterdictin' ye, but, Mr. Minot, ye dunno 'bout dat; +dey'll fight to de end ob time for dar stock. A good many on 'em owns +morin' two hundred, an' its money; it's whar de living comes from. Ef +you gib 'em a chance dey'll show you a big streak, an' fight dey will +for sartin." + +The words had hardly left his lips, when Clara said: + +"Oh! take me quick, dear boy!" + +We all sprang to her side. Ere Louis could put his arms around her, she +fell from her chair like dead. + +"Fainted! Water!" said Louis. + +"Camfire!" said Aunt Hildy, and I stood powerless to move or speak. I +saw Louis lay her on the sofa, and thought she was dead; the room grew +dark, and I forced myself to feel my way to the door, and leaning +against it would have fallen had not father put his arm about me and led +me through into the entry where I could get some air. When the sickening +swimming feeling left me, and the mist fell from my eyes, I was strong +enough to do something, and kneeling by the side of the motionless +figure, felt her pulse, or rather tried vainly to find it, and put my +cheek to her mouth, whence came no breath. + +"Oh! Clara darling, little mother, speak to us, our hearts are breaking! +Oh, Louis! get hot water and flannels, chafe her limbs, put a hot cloth +over the stomach and chest; she is not dead," and putting my head down, +I breathed full, long breaths into her nostrils. + +"'Taint no use," said Aunt Hildy, "but we must do it," and she worked +with a will. + +"That poor angel woman is done gone," said Matthias. "She couldn't stan' +it. Oh, de Lord!" and he looked the picture of despair. + +We were losing hope of resuscitation, and I sank on the floor beside +Louis, who still knelt at the head of the lounge, when a faint sound +came from her lips. We held our breath and listened, and now in a low, +weak voice she said: + +"I'll go back, Louis Robert, to say good-bye; I can stay a little +longer; oh! they feel so badly--yes, I must go back," and then long, +deep sighing breaths were taken. A little longer and her eyes +opened--"Louis, Emily, baby, friends, I am here." + +"Oh! little mother," said Louis, "where is the trouble?" + +She tried to smile, as if to cover all our fears, and said with effort: + +"I am weak; I could not hold together; get some of Aunt Hildy's +bitters," and when the glass containing it was held to her lips, she +drank eagerly. + +"Take both hands, Louis; let the baby touch me." + +"Oh, Clara, don't go!" I said, as I held little Emily near her. + +"No, no, not now, but I want help to stay; keep the baby close. + +"Matthias, don't go home," she said, and then, closing her eyes, lay so +still and motionless I feared she would never move again. + +A half hour had passed and she still looked so cold and white, when +suddenly her eyes opened, and her voice was strong as she said: + +"I am better now, I have come clear back,--help me to get up, dear boy," +and Louis put his arms around her to raise her; as he did so I saw a +strange look pass over her face, and her hands were laid on her limbs. +She turned her beautiful eyes upon me, as if to say "don't be +frightened," and said, "Please move my limbs, there is no feeling +there--they are paralyzed, and I am so glad it is not my hands." I moved +them gently, and thought when she was really herself she would be able +to use them. She seemed now bright and cheerful as before. + +The evening wore on; Matthias went home, and at Clara's request Aunt +Hildy occupied a room with her down stairs, Louis carrying her tenderly +to her couch as if she were a child. + +Sleep came toward us with laggard steps through the long night; Louis +seemed to realize it all so plainly, and my heart was in my throat. I +tried to hope, and when at last I fell asleep I wandered in dreams to a +wondrous fountain, whose silvery spray fell before me as a gleaming +promise, and I thought its murmuring music whispered, "she will live," +and her Louis Robert, who stood near me, constantly sang the same sweet +words. I believe my dream really comforted me, for when I woke it clung +to me still, and "she will live" rang in my ears like a sweet bell +chime. + +We found her better and like herself, but the lower limbs were cold as +marble, heavy also and without feeling, and we knew it was, as she had +said, "paralysis." + +"Now I am to be a burden, my Emily mother, and oh, if you had not called +me back, I would have gone to the hills with Louis Robert! It was not +fancy nor delirium, for I knew that my body was falling. I saw him when +he came and whispered 'now, darling, now,' and when I lost your faces, +he raised me in his arms, and I was going, oh! till somebody breathed +upon me, and warm drops like rain touched my cheek, and I heard your +hearts all say, 'we cannot have it.' This like a strong hand drew me +back, and I thought I must come and say good-bye for a comfort to you +all. So Louis Robert, with his great love waiting for me there, drew +himself away and kindly said, 'I will wait,'--then a mist came between +us, and I opened my eyes to see you all around me." + +"Oh, Clara! how can we ever let you go?" + +"Ah, my beloved ones! I only go a little before you, and if you knew how +sweet it will be to be strong, you would say, because you love me, 'I +may go.' I have many things to say--and I shall remain with you a time, +and may, I fear, weary you. I am glad Louis is strong." + +It was pitiful to see the patience with which she bore her suffering. +There was no pain, she said, but it was a strange feeling not to be +alive--and she would look at her limbs and say, "Poor flesh, you are not +warm any more." We had one of her crimson-cushioned easy chairs arranged +to suit her needs, and in this she could be rolled about. She sat at the +table with us and I kept constantly near her, and tried to shield her +from any extra excitement. When on the thirteenth day of April, news +reached us of the blow which, the day before, had fallen on Sumter, we +feared to let her know it. But her spirit quickened into the clearest +perception possible, divined something, and obliged us to tell her. + +She said: "I knew it would come, I have felt it for years, and when the +cruel sacrifice is finished, liberty will arise, and over the ashes of +the slain will say, 'Let the bond go free.'" + +Ben's eyes looked as Hal's did, when he left us for Chicago, and he +whispered to me: + +"I must go. Hal must stay here; Louis cannot go. John will see to every +thing for me, and I am going." + +Six days later he had enlisted, and oh! how filled these days were! When +Matthias heard of it, he came over, and happening to meet me where he +could talk freely, he said: + +"Dis is jes' what I knowed was a comin', an' I have tole Ben fur to kill +dat Mas'r Sumner, de fus' ting, for he's the one dat ort fur to be +killed." + +"Why, Matthias, you are in a great hurry to kill him, and you really +believe he is to drop right into that terrible fire; why, I could not +hurry a dog out of existence if I thought everlasting torment awaited +him." + +"Look a yere, Miss Em'ly, ef dat dog wuz mad, you'd kill him mighty +quick, wouldn't ye?" + +I did not know what to say, and he answered the question himself: + +"Yas, de Lord knows, dat man needs tendin' to, an I'se mighty anxious +fur de good Lord to take him in han'. We'll live to see ebery black man +free, Miss Em'ly,--we shall, shure,--an' dere'll be high times down in +Charleston. Wonder what little Molly'll do?" + +"I have been thinking about her," I said. "You know the last letter we +received they were fearful of war, and thinking of coming to her +husband's friends in Pennsylvania; but she feared her mother would die; +she has been poorly for a long time." + +"Reckin she'll die, then, fur de 'sitement'll kill her, ef nuffin else +don't." + +The days wore on and Clara still lingered with us. Ben was as yet +unhurt, and first lieutenant of his company. He wrote us that battle was +not what he had thought it; he was not shaky at all, and the smell of +powder covered every fear; he had only one thought and that was to do +his duty. A letter full of sorrow came from Mary. Her mother had passed +from earth, and her father was going on to a little farm they owned a +few miles from the city, and she, with her husband and Althea Emily was, +trying to get into Pennsylvania. "I am in momentary fear," she wrote, +"for my husband is watched so closely, his principles are so well known, +I think we shall have great trouble in getting through, but we cannot +stay here." + +The dewy breath of May was rising about us; violet angle was alive with +its blossoms, and the birds sang sweetly as if there were no sorrowing +hearts in the land. + +Clara had failed of late, and the evening of the fifteenth we were +gathered together at her request in her sitting-room. + +"Do not feel troubled," she said, "for when I am out of sight, you will +sorrow if you feel I have not told it all. Come, baby Emily, sweet bird +sit close to mam Cla, while she tells the story." + +Louis and I sat on either side, Aunt Hildy with mother and father very +near, so that we formed a semi-circle. + +"I am losing my strength, as you all know," said Clara "and the day is +very near when I shall reach for the hand that will lead me to the +hills. Now, Louis, my dear boy, here is the paper I have written, +wherein I give to you all the things I believe you will prize. I believe +I have remembered all who have been so kind and so dear to me, and I +know you will comply with every wish, and I desire no form of the law to +cover my words." Louis took the papers with a trembling hand, and she +continued: "It is wise and right for me to tell you about the laying +away of this frame of mine, for I know if I do not tell you about it +many questions will arise, and we will have them all settled now before +I go beyond your hearing. I shall hear you and see you all the time. + +"First, buy for me a cedar coffin, since it will please you to remember +that this wood lasts longer in the ground than any other. Do not have +any unnecessary trimmings for it, and I would like to wear in this last +resting-place the blue dress I prize the most. You will find in my large +trunk the little pillow I have made for my head; just let me lie there a +little on one side, and put a few of Emily's sweet violets in my hand +that I may be pleasant to look upon. Leave no rings upon my fingers; +these I wear, my Louis Robert gave me, and you must keep them for his +grandchild," and as she said this, she unfastened the shining chain that +she had worn hidden so many years, and putting it around our little +Emily's neck, said: "Let her always wear the chain and the locket," and +while the baby's eyes reflected the gleam of the gold that dazzled them, +we were all weeping. "Do not feel so," said Clara; "it is beautiful to +go; let me tell you the rest. All these people whom I have known will +desire to look at my face, and for their sakes let me be carried into +the old church which has become to me so dear. I have asked Mr. Davis to +preach from the text, 'I am the resurrection and the life.' + +"Be sure that the children from the Home all go, and I would like you +with them to occupy the front pews. I have a fancy," and she smiled, +"that if you sit there it will help me to come near to my deserted +tenement. I know I shall be with you there, and I hope you will never +call me dead. My house of clay is nearly dead now, and the more strength +it loses the stronger my spirit feels. Mr. Minot said, long since, that +I might own part of his lot in the churchyard, and I would like to be +buried under the willow there. I like that corner best. Do not ever tell +little Emily I am there; just say I'm gone away to rest and to be well +and strong, and when she is older tell her the frame that held the +picture is beneath the grasses, and that my freed soul loves her and +watches her, for it will be true. If you feel, Louis, my dear boy, like +bringing your father's remains to rest beside me, you can do so. It will +not trouble either of us, for it matters little; we are to be together. +This is all, except that, if it be practicable, I should like the burial +to take place at the hour of sunset; this seems the most fitting time. +While the grave is yet open, please let the children sing together, +'Sweet Rest;' I always like to hear them sing this. To-morrow evening I +have something to say to the friends who really seem to belong to +me,--Hal and Mary, Mr. Davis, Matthias, Aunt Peg and John, Jane and her +husband. Please let them come at six o'clock." + +She closed her eyes wearily, and looked so white and beautiful, her +small hands folded, and the fleecy shawl about her falling from her +shoulders, and it seemed as if the material of life, like this delicate +garment, was also falling from her. Desolation spread its map before me. +I could think of nothing but an empty room and heart, and with Louis' +arms about me, I sobbed bitterly. Then I thought how selfish I was, and +said: "Louis, take her in your arms; she is so tired, poor little +mother." The blue eyes looked at me with such a tender light, and she +said, "Yes, I am tired." Louis gathered her in his arms and seated +himself in a rocker. Aunt Hildy went for some cordial. Mother and father +sat quietly with bitter tears falling slowly, and with little Emily in +my arms, I crossed the room to occupy a seat where my tears would not +trouble her. It was sadly beautiful. + +She drew strength from Louis, and was borne into her room feeling, she +said, very comfortable. I wanted to stay with her through the night, but +she said: + +"No, the baby needs you; so does Louis; I know how he feels; my night +will be peaceful and my rest sweet; Aunt Hildy will rest beside me." + +"Yes, yes, I'll stay, and we shall both rest well," said Aunt Hildy. + +In the morning she was weak, but we dressed her, and after eating a +little she felt better, and in the afternoon seemed very comfortable and +happy. We had our supper at a little after five o'clock, and at six +o'clock, as she had wished, all were in her room. + +"Louis, roll my chair into the centre of the room, and let me face the +west, for I love to see day's glory die. Now come, good friends all, and +sit near me, where I can see your faces. I want to tell you that I am +going out of your sight, and I have left to each of you what seemed good +and right to me. I hope, yes, I know you will remember that I love you +all so much I would never be forgotten. You are grown so dear to me that +I shall not forget to look upon you; and please remember that I am not +dead, but shall be to you a living, active friend, who sees and knows +your needs, and to whose heart may be entrusted some dear mission for +your greatest good. Mr. and Mrs. Turner," and she held her hands to +Jane and her husband, "be true and faithful to each other. Leave no work +undone, love the children, and ask help from the hills, whence it shall +ever come. You will, I am sure;" and her eyes turned inquiringly upon +them. + +"Oh, Mis' _De_-Mond," said Jane, "I will, oh, you blessed angel woman!" + +"I will, so help me God!" said Mr. Turner, and they took their seats, +while Clara, with a motion that said please come, called: + +"Matthias and Aunt Peg, and you too, John, don't think I can ever forget +you. You will come to me, and you will know me there, and, John, you +have a wonderful work to do; your words will bear sweet tidings to your +race, and your reward shall be that of the well-doer." + +"Oh, de good Lord! white lamb, how kin we ever let you go; you's done +got hold on our heart-strings! Oh, de good Lord bless ye, ye snow-white +darlin', an' ef it's de Mas'r's will, den we mus' lib all in the dark +widout ye, but de light ob your eyes is hevin to dis ole heart!" + +"Oh, that's true' nuf!" said Aunt Peg, "God'll take care on you, but +what'll we do?" and their groans fell like the wailing winds upon the +ears of us all; our hearts were touched to their inmost chords. + +"Mr. Davis," said Clara, and her eyes dilated with a wondrous light +while her voice grew unnaturally strong, "I am to see your wife. Shall I +say you are looking forward to meeting her?" + +"Just that, and it will not be long," and he bowed his head as he held +in both his own her white hand. + +"Halbert and Mary, come and let me bless you. My brother and sister, you +are so dear to me. You, Halbert, have a wondrous touch; you stand before +the shrine of art, and ere many years a people's verdict shall more than +seal your heart's desire; a master artist you shall be, my friend." + +"Oh, Clara, Clara!" said Hal-- + +"Yes," she continued, "Love's fawn has won the prize for you at home and +abroad; I leave to you a friend,--Louis will attend to it all,--and +among the little ones who come there will be some who have, like you, +talent; help them as you shall see fit." + +He could only bow his head, while Mary, sobbing as if her heart would +break, said: + +"Do not go; oh, do not leave us!" + +Clara closed her eyes and sank back among her cushions almost +breathless. We took her hands, Louis and I, and I feared she would never +speak again. Tearful and motionless these beloved ones sat about her, +and at last, when the crimson and gold swept like a full tide of glory +the broad western expanse that lay before us, she raised herself, looked +into all our faces, held her lips for a last kiss from us of the +household, and said in tones as clear as silver bells: + +"I am going now; he is coming. Aunt Hildy, you will come soon. Emily, +love my Louis. Louis, kiss me again; fold close the falling garment. +Baby, breathe on me once more--Louis Robert. Oh, this is beautiful!" + +Her head dropped on Louis' shoulder. Slowly the eyelids covered the +beautiful eyes. + +She was dead. Clara, the purest of all, dead and how beautiful the +transition! What a picture for the sunset to look upon, as with the full +tide of sympathy flooding our hearts, we stood around her where she lay! +John, in his strong dark beauty, with folded arms, and eyes like wells +of sorrow; Matthias and Aunt Peg, with tears running over their dusky +faces; good Mr. Davis, with his gray hairs bending over her as if to +hear her tell the message to his loved one; Aunt Hildy standing like one +who is only waiting for a little more to fill the cup, which is already +near her lips; my father and mother with their tender sympathies +expressed in every feature, with Jane and her husband near them like two +statues; Hal and Mary beside Louis and me, wrapt like ourselves in the +mantle of a strange and new experience. How long we stood thus, I know +not; the last sun-rays were dying as Aunt Hildy said: "We must wait no +longer; Jane and Aunt Peg, you'll help me, the rest of you need'nt +stay;" and so we left our beautiful dead, still in the hands of her +friends. + +The day of her burial was a perfect one--calm in its beauty, the blue of +its skies like the eyes of our darling. The little pillow made by her +own hands was of blue, covered with a fine web of wrought lace, and with +edging that had also been her handiwork. We dressed her as she +desired,--in a plain dress of pale blue,--the violet blossoms she loved +were in her hand, and it seemed to me as if I could never see her laid +out of sight--she was so beautiful in this last sleep; she looked not +more than thirty; there were no gray hairs among the brown, and no lines +of care or sorrow marked her sweet, pure face. + +All things were as she desired, and when the sun burned low on the +hills, we laid her under the willow, while the children sang "Sweet +Rest." + +"Will there ever be another like her?" I said. + +"Never," said Aunt Hildy. + +"No, never," said the hearts of all. + +My father missed her as much as if she had been his daughter, and I was +glad of little Emily's presence; it was a star in our night. Louis was +calm and strong, and spoke of her daily, and insisted on her plate at +the table, saying: + +"I cannot call her dead. Let us keep a place for her." + +It was a tender recognition which we respected. He looked after her, it +seemed to me, and almost saw her in her new home. The months wore on, +and our cares were still increasing. News of battles lost and won came +to us daily, and at last a letter telling of Lieutenant Minot having +been wounded seriously. It was impossible for any one to reach him at +present, and we must wait until he got to Washington, whither he would +be sent as soon as he was able. Our fears were great, but at last a +letter came from Washington, stating he would start for home on the +twenty-first of October, and he desired Hal to meet him in New York. Hal +found that the wound was in the shoulder, and the ball was still in it. +Unsuccessful probing had caused him great suffering, and we should +hardly have known him. + +When the real state of the wound was known, Aunt Hildy said: + +"I can get that ball out," and she went to work energetically. She cut +cloth into strips and bound all about the place where the ball entered, +and then she made a drawing "intment," as she called it, and applied it +daily, and in about four weeks, to our great delight, the ball came out. +Ben had the receipt for that wonderful "intment," and he calls it "Aunt +Hildy's miracle." + +When the cold days of the fall came upon us, Aunt Hildy felt them +greatly, and the morning of December tenth we awoke to find her gone; +she had gone to sleep to wake in a better home. + +It seemed as if we could not have it so, but when I remembered all she +had told me of her hopes and fears, when I knew she had found Clara and +was glad, I said we were selfish; let our hearts say "Amen." + +The town mourned Aunt Hildy, and again our church was filled to +overflowing, and the sermon Mr. Davis preached was a just and beautiful +tribute to our beloved friend, the true and faithful Hildah Patten. + +The day after the burial, father said to us in a mournful tone: + +"Now I have a duty to perform, and when she talked to me about it, she +said, 'Do it right off, Mr. Minot; don't wait because you feel kinder +bad to have me laid away. It's the best way to do what you've got to do, +and get it over with.' + +"So to-night we'll read the papers, and then we will carry out her +desires--good old soul; I do wish she could have stayed longer. I can +hardly see how we're going to live without her." + +The evening drew near, and Halbert, Mary and Ben, with little Hal, were +seated in the "middle room," while my father, with a trembling hand, +turned the key in a small drawer of the old secretary, and took out a +roll of papers and a box. As he did so a thought struck him, and he +turned suddenly, saying: + +"Why are not all here? She told me to have Matthias and Peg and John +come over. I believe a few more sad partings would make me lose my +memory." + +"I'll go over for them," said Ben; "it is early yet." + +"Yes, there is plenty of time," said father. "The sun sets early; the +shortest day in the year will soon be with us," and his eyes closed as +if he were too tired to think, and he sat in silence until the sound of +feet on the walk aroused him. + +"Hope we hain't come over to see more dyin', Miss Em'ly. 'Pears like its +gettin' pooty lonesome round yere," and as our friends seated +themselves, the old clock tolled the hour of seven. + +Little Emily was asleep in Louis' lap, and her cousin Hal curled himself +up in one corner of the old sofa, as if he, too, felt the presence of +the god of sleep. + +"Now we are ready," said my father, "and here is the paper written by +Aunt Hildy which she bade me read to you all, and whose instructions we +must obey to the letter, remembering how wise and good our kind friend +has ever been. It is written in the form of a letter," and he read the +following: + +"My dear friends, I am writin' this as ef I was dead and you still in +the land of the livin', as we call it; I feel now as if when you read it +I shall be in the land of the livin', and you among them who feed mostly +on husks. I know by this stubbin pain in my side that I shall go to +sleep, and jest step over into Clary's room before long, and all that +ain't settled I am settlin' to-night, and to Mr. Minot's care I leave +these papers and this box. You have been good and true friends to me, +and I want to help you on a little in the doin' of good and perfect +work. When Silas left me alone he took with him little money. I don't +know what possessed him; but Satan, I guess, must have flung to the +winds the little self-respect he had. He took one boy off with him to be +a vagrant. Silas' father was a good man, and he left a good deal of +property to this son of his, and we had got along, in a worldly sense, +beautiful; so when, he went away he left considerable ready money and a +lot of land, and I've held on to it all. Sometimes I've thought one of +'em might come back and want some of it; but now I know they are dead. +From time to time I've sold the land, etc., and you see I've added to +what was left. I now propose to divide it between Emily and Louis, as +one, Jane North Turner and her husband, and John Jones." + +As this name fell from my father's lips, John's dark eyes spoke volumes +and his broad chest heaved with emotion, but he sat perfectly erect, +with his arms folded, and I thought what a grand picture he made. + +Matthias groaned: + +"Oh, de good Lord ob Israel, what ways?" Aunt Peg gave vent to one of +her peculiar guttural sounds as father concluded the unfinished sentence +with the names of Ben, Hal and his good little wife. + +"Now, you can't do a great deal with this money, but it will go a little +ways toward helpin' out. I believe there is just three thousand dollars, +and that figgers only six hundred dollars apiece. Now, ef Ben's +shoulder prevents him from workin', and he needs to have it, Halbert +must give him half of what I leave to him, and I know he'll do it. Ben +wants to get married, and I can see which way the wind blows in that +quarter, and I think sense he's been half killed you'd all better help +him. When that comes to pass, give to him all the furniture and beddin' +that I leave, for his wife will be sensible enough to be glad of it. +Halbert's likeness of me in marble is a great thing they say, and sells +well, and he will please to put me up again in that same shape, and then +sell the picter and use the money to help the poor. He'll do jest what +I'd like to have him. + +"Emily and Louis will know jest what to do with their share; and now, +John Jones, to you,--as a child of our father, as a brother to me,--I +say, help yourself with what little I bestow in the very best way you +can. Ef I didn't know you would look well after Peg and Matthias I +should have left it to them and not to you. They won't stay here very +much longer, any way--and its all peace ahead, blessed peace. You, +perhaps, are wonderin' why Jane and her husband ain't here in this list. +This is the reason: I wanted to tell you jest how I come to have this +money, and I thought her husband would feel bad at the explanation. I +should like to have you all go over there, and let Mr. Minot read to Mr. +and Mrs. Turner and the children the paper I have left for them. Now I'm +contented to go, and ef they do put a railroad track through my wood +lot, it can't make me feel bad. The things of earth that I held so close +through long years, will not seem to me any more as they have, too holy +to be teched." + +When father concluded the reading, we sat in such silence that the tick +of the old clock, was to our ears the united beating of our hearts. Our +thoughts were all centered on the wisdom and goodness of our unselfish +friend who, through her life had been ever mindful of the needs of her +fellow-men, and who, when standing before the gate of her eternal home, +threw behind her her last treasure, thinking still of the poor hearts +who needed its benefit. + +We were to assemble at Jane's the next afternoon at five o'clock, and +when we said "good night," John looked up at the stars and said: + +"If the spirit of that good woman sees me, she reads what I cannot tell +you." + +The next afternoon found us in Jane's large square room, which faced the +western sky, and no less than twenty children were seated there with us. +This number seemed to be the complement of the Home,--as many as could +comfortably be accommodated. It was a pleasant care to Jane, for her +heart was in the work, and she looked younger now than before the work +began. The wishes of the boys were consulted, and each one as nearly +fitted to the place he occupied as possible. Jane said, when they first +began to multiply, the care troubled her some; but she began to talk to +herself, and to say: "There now, don't be foolish enough to notice every +little caper of them boys," and then, she said: "I began to practise +what I preached to myself. It worked first-rate, for I give over +watchin' 'em, and we get along splendid." + +There was a breathless silence when Louis said: + +"We are here at the request of your friend, children, the blessed Aunt +Hildy who has left a word for you. You know she loved you, and I +imagine at this moment you are each wearing a pair of stockings which +were knit for you by her. Now listen, please, while Mr. Minot reads to +you her letter." + +Then, in a slow and impressive manner, father read as follows: + +"My dear folks at the Home. I'm about to leave this world for a better, +and on the borders of that blessed land I think of you. I think of your +happy faces and of Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who love you so much, and I +should like to have you know that I expect to meet you all over there. +You boys will grow to be good men, and you girls, who are like sweet +pinks to my mind, I want you to make blessed good women every one of +you. Now I think the good folks who take care of you would be thankful +to have a school-house of their own, and teachers who are interested in +the work of helping you along; and to give a little help, I leave to Mr. +and Mrs. Turner eight hundred dollars--two hundred is in the box in one +dollar gold pieces--to build a school-house with. You know I own a piece +of land next to yours, and here in this plot of two acres I want you to +put up this school-house. Give Mr. Brown the work, and let him draw up +the plan with Mr. Turner; I've figured it out, and I think there's +enough to build a good, substantial building such as you need; and the +deed of the two acres I give to the children. Each one of their names is +there, including those of the two that came first. Let each one, ef old +enough, do as he or she pleases with the ground. Ef they want to raise +marigolds, let 'em, and ef they want to raise garden sass, let 'em. I +should think Burton Brown would like to step in as a teacher, and I +believe he will, but the rest you can manage. + +"Now this is all. When you get the school-house built you'll want a walk +around it, and ef you should have a border of flowers, you may put in +some 'live forever' for me, for that means truth, and that is what I +want you to find. If Fanny Mason feels like goin' over to Mis' Minot's +to live with her, I'd like to have her go, and if she does, she'll find +two chests and a trunk full of things I've left that she needs, but she +must have her piece of ground here just the same. The deed I have made +is recorded, and I would like to have Mr. Dayton survey the land, and +make the division of it. Then you can each one of you hold your own as +long as you live, Mr. and Mrs. Turner keepin' it in trust till the law +says you're of age." + +The hearts of the children were touched at this token of love. Bright +eyes reflected happy thoughts. Fanny Mason was the first to speak. She +looked at my mother, while her eyes swam in tears. + +"May I come, Mrs. Minot?--I would like to help somebody, and it must be +right or she would not have written it." + +Mother held her hand to her, and I thought I never saw gratitude more +plainly written than upon the face of Fanny. She was one of the three +girls whom Louis found in the city streets, the eldest of the flock, and +so good and amiable we had always loved her. When mother held her hand +out to her in answer to her question, little Emily thought it time to +speak, and putting out both her own, said: + +"Tum, Panny, et, you outer." + +"I will," said Fanny, as she gathered her in her arms. + +"I'm goin' to have flowers," I heard one little fellow say. + +"I'm goin' to raise corn," said another. + +Mr. Davis was with us this evening, and after the children had given +vent to their joy, he rose, saying: + +"I have a word to say of our dear good friend, Mrs. Patten. About four +weeks before she left us, I had a long talk with her. She told me of her +pleasant anticipations and also that she expected to see me there ere +long. Her last words on that memorable occasion were, as nearly as I can +remember, these: 'I go from death to life, from bondage to freedom. All +I have of earth I want to leave where it shall point toward heaven, or a +higher condition of things. If you were to stay, Brother Davis, you +should do some of this work, but you must get yourself ready, and you +need no more to dispose of.' I feel that this is true, and I ask you, +children, to feel that I shall hope to be remembered by you through +time. The lesson of harmonious action has been taught upon these hills, +and when the years to come shall brighten our pathway, tired hearts will +still be waiting. The angel of deliverance will be present then, as now, +and the munificence of those who have gone from us, as well as of those +who are yet in the body, has made the strong foundation on which to +stand; and in the blest future your hands will be helpful, while your +hearts shall sing of those whose hearts and hands did great service for +the advancement of love and truth. My heart is glad; I have learned +much; I know that our Father holds so closely his beloved, that no one +of his children shall call to him unheard." + +We had a real meeting, as Jane expressed it, and I said to Louis: + +"What a great fire a small matter kindleth!" + +He replied: "We have claimed the promise and brought to our hearts the +strength we need 'where two or three are gathered together.' You know I +often think of this, and also of the incomparable comfort the entire +world would have if the eyes that are blinded could see; if the hearts +that beat slow and in fear were quickened into life. Ah! Emily, the +years to come hold wondrous changes. The cruel hand of war would never +have touched us had the first lesson in life's book been well read and +understood." + +"That is true," said my father, as we entered the gate at home, and +looking up I saw two stars, and said: + +"Clara and Aunt Hildy both say 'Amen!'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +AUNT HILDY'S LEGACY. + + +It was the spring of 1862, when "Aunt Hildy's Plot" was the scene of +happy labor. Uncle Dayton made the survey of the land and a map of it. +All the children knew the boundaries of their individual territories; +and the youngest among them, five-year-old Sammy, strutted about with +his hands in his pockets, whistling and thinking, now and then giving +vent to his joy. When he saw Louis and me coming, for we all went over +to see the ground broken for the schoolhouse, he came toward us +hurriedly, saying with great earnestness: + +"I shall raise much as three dollars' worth of onions on my land. Do you +s'pose I can sell em, Mr. Desmonde? I want to sell 'em and put the money +in the bank, for when I get money enough I'm going to build a house, and +get married, too, I guess." + +Louis answered him kindly, as he did all the rest, and when we went home +he said he held more secrets than any one man ought to. + +The dedication of our schoolhouse was a grand affair. It came off on the +seventeenth of June. Uncle Dayton and Aunt Phebe came, and we gathered +the children from the town and village, clothed them in white with blue +ribbons streaming from their hats, and had them marched in line into the +building--the first two holding aloft a banner which Louis and I had +made for them. Many came from the surrounding town, and three of our +friends from Boston. There were speeches made by Mr. Davis, Uncle +Dayton, Louis, John, and others, and singing by the children. It was a +glorious time, and we felt that our beloved Aunt Hildy must now be +looking down upon us with an approving smile; and when the marble +statuette of her dear self was placed in a niche, made for its +reception, it seemed to me I could hear Clara say, "It is beautifully +appropriate." + +The mode of operation was to be decided on, and when Louis spoke with +feeling of the coming days, he said to the children: + +"You are our children; we are your friends; and together we mean to be +self-supporting, instead of going about among the people soliciting +alms. We will be pensioners on each other's bounty, and when we are +strong enough to aid others who need our assistance, we will send forth +gladly comforts from our home. Some little boys who are to raise +strawberries on their patch of ground, will be glad to carry a dish of +berries to some poor invalid; and so with everything you do, remember +the happiness of doing something for those around us, for the poor we +have always with us. I have been thinking about a teacher. Mr. Brown, +our little Burton from the mill, has engaged to teach school in an +adjoining village, and for a time cannot come to you. He will be able to +be your teacher after awhile, and I understand that is his wish. I +never taught school myself, but I have been wondering if you would like +me to try until he is ready. All those who would like me to come, say +aye." + +I rather think Louis heard that response. I started, for such a sharp, +shrill sound rent the air that the window glass quivered as if about to +break." + +"Now all who do not wish me for a teacher, say no." + +A calm like that of the Dead Sea ensued, to be broken after a second by +little Sammy, who cried: + +"Oh, pooh! There ain't nobody." + +"Agreed," said Louis; "then I am elected, am I?" + +"Yes, sir!" shouted the children. + +"Then we'll hear you sing 'Hail Columbia,' and separate for the day. I +hope the summer will be a happy one for you all!" + +It will be impossible to fully describe "Aunt Hildy's Plot," as it +appeared in the days when everything was settled, and the children at +work in earnest, each with an idea born of himself. + +I thought I saw little that spoke to me of original sin and of the +depravity which, according to an ancient creed, grew in the human heart +as a part of each individual. There were strawberry beds and raspberry +rooms, patches of lettuce and peppergrass, long rows of corn with +trailing bean-vines in their rear, hedges of peas and string beans, and +young trees set out in different places, like sentinels of love and care +reaching toward the overarching sky. + +Little Sammy had his onion patch as he desired. It was a happy sight, +and one that touched the heart, to see each one progressing +methodically day after day. They worked an hour before breakfast, and as +long as they pleased after supper. They took great comfort in "changing +works," as they called it; you would hear them say: + +"Now, let's all go over to Joe's land this afternoon, and to John's +to-morrow;" and in this way they sowed and reaped together. + +The plot measured considerably more than two acres, and there was a +space of about twenty square rods for each. + +This, when properly cared for, made for them nice gardens to take care +of. Louis succeeded, of course, in the school. The building had cost +considerably more than six hundred dollars, for we knew it was wise to +build it of brick rather than wood, and also to have room enough for an +increase of pupils. + +Louis said, when it was being built: + +"I can see, Emily, the days to come; the harvest that shall arise; and +for years, perhaps, the hands of the reapers will not number many. Some +of the seed will fall on barren soil, and some of the grain that waits +for the reaper will spoil; but in the end, yes, in the gathering up of +all, the century shall dawn that lights the world with these dear +thoughts that feed us to-day. Work and pleasure go hand in hand with the +progressive thought that after a time shall blend the souls of men with +those of angels, for 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.' +I feel that I have escaped so much in coming here when I did. These +hills have, with your presence, my beloved, made it the shrine of +purity, and the vows here taken have absolved my soul. The little +things that arise to annoy us may not be called trouble, and we shall +live here till our hair is gray; till Emily Minot shall take in her own +hands the reins that fall from the hands of her mother; for I feel that +all the unfinished pictures which we shall leave will be completed, some +at the hands of our daughter, and others by those whose hearts we shall +learn to know. + + Before we leave this lower state + To join the well-beloved who wait, + Our little mother helps us here, + Our guardian angel through each year. + She was as beautiful as fair; + How glorious an angel there!'" + +And the face of my Louis, transfigured by his thought, shone with a +light that seemed to come from afar. I loved so well to hear him preach, +that when Mr. Davis' health became too precarious for him to occupy the +pulpit longer, I was glad to hear Louis say he would accept the place +tendered by Mr. Davis and by all the people of our town. I say all the +people, although perhaps there were a few who, liking to be busy and +failing to look for anything better, occupied themselves with the small +talk which made sometimes great noise without really touching anybody; +but we did not count this in life's cost, and were not affected by it. + +Louis treated all with uniform kindness, and taught them the lessons +they could not fail to appreciate, though, as he had said, some of the +seed must fall on barren ground. It is not to be supposed that the +mill-owners were glad to lose the work of the children, for it was +worth much and cost little; but since they were not powerful enough to +establish monarchical government, they were forced to submit, and they +submitted gracefully, too, from the policy which, as Louis had said, +whispered "He has money," and they might sometime desire favor at his +hands. + +It seemed to me sometimes that Louis' money would not last as long as +his life; but when I said something of the kind, he answered: + +"Yes, yes, Emily; we shall not be embarrassed financially, for we +consult needs, and these you know are small compared to wants. A little +ready money will go a long way; we shall not suffer from interest nor +from high rates of taxation here; give yourself no uneasiness." + +When the school was started we were surprised, as well as pleased, to +receive calls from some of our good people, who desired to have their +children go to the Home School as pupils. They felt moved to take this +step from two considerations; one, the more thorough education which the +children would receive; and the other, an interest felt in our work, and +a desire to help the school to become one of the best. + +They proposed paying a tuition fee, to which we all consented, reserving +to ourselves the right of taking those who might desire to attend and +not be able to pay; and through their really generous contributions in +this way, when Burton Brown came to assume the duties of a schoolmaster, +there was a fund sufficient to pay him well for his services. + +We named this the Turner Fund, although Jane insisted it should be +_De_mond. + +John desired to donate his gift from Aunt Hildy to the Turner Fund, but +Louis objected, saying: + +"John, you have no right to do this; you need to get a house for +yourself before you help others. It would not be right to take your +money, and we cannot accept it." + +Matthias says: + +"'Pears like I kin tote ober to de 'Plot' an' tinker roun' thar wid de +chilun. John's done boun' I shan't do no moah work, an' I can't stop +still no how, for it 'pears like I'm dead 'fore de time." + +He made himself wonderfully useful there, and the children loved him. +John got along splendidly, and bought the saw-mill; for Ben, although +better, could not do any work at the mill, and John was very glad to own +it. + +I am ashamed to say that now and then a small-souled individual would +ventilate his miserable prejudices, and expressions like the following +came to our ears: + +"Wonder what'll happen if the niggers all get free; got one for a +saw-mill owner already;" all of which fell, to be sure, at John's feet +with an ignorant thud. Still, when we looked at him and realized his +noble nature, it seemed too bad to think there could be one such word +spoken. + +How fortunate it is that our hearts do naturally retain the perfume of +the roses, and forget the presence of the thorns! The wiser we grow the +more natural we become; and on the rock of truth we can stand, feeling +no jar, when the missiles of a grovelling mind are hurled against its +base. When we get tired, however, and are forced by the pressure of +material circumstances to wander down into the valley, while we stand +even then in the shelter of our mountain, still we find our feet +sometimes soiled by the gathered mud. + +Here is where the weak-hearted of our earth fail, and, looking not to +the mountains, become at last settled in the valley, and suffer even to +the end, borne down by the fettering chains of a life which is, at best, +only breathing. Their wings held close, they cannot rise beyond the +clouds and fog into the clearer atmosphere of a higher condition. + +My fortieth birthday is upon me. I am sitting in the room where, since +the day of our wedding, all of my best thoughts have been written. Sharp +winds blow around our dwelling, but our hearts heed not their harsh +voices. Louis and I have been retrospecting to-day, reading together the +journal of the past two years. We have kept it together, devoting two +pages to each day, each of us writing one. It is not uninteresting; many +changes have been dotted down; and still, to look in upon us, you could +not see them. Here is the date of one, the death of good Mr. Davis, and +an account of the sermon preached by Louis at his funeral, the +witnessing of his last experience among us, and the blessed comfort it +gave us, as with his death-cold lips he murmured, "My wife." Clara and +all, he saw their beckoning hands and angelic faces. He heard sweet +music blending with our voices as we sang to him at his request. + +"It is enough; let us rejoice together," said Louis, "for he has gone to +his own, and he shall have no more pain forever." + +On another page we read of the children's harvest gathered, and also of +their Christmas festivities, of the prosperous condition of the school, +and the untiring diligence of the scholars; extracts from lectures given +by John at the schoolhouse, and the date of his first lecture in the +Quaker city, Philadelphia; sorrowful records of the battles fought and +gained; a sad story of Willie Goodwin, who was taken prisoner by the +Confederates, and came home, poor fellow, only to die; news from our +Southern Mary in her Pennsylvania home, and an account of her visit to +us, bringing with her Louise, a pet girl, once owned by her father. I +saw John looking at her sharply, and with undisguised admiration, and I +thought, perhaps, when Ben's wedding day had passed, John might have +one. I could say truthfully, "I hope he will." + +No matter how many or great the changes, the robins still build their +nests in the elm tree, and the grass still grows to cover the earth of +brown with its emerald mantle; for what care the daisies and the grapes, +if the hand of the reaper bids them bow before his trusty blade? The +life is at their roots, and their flowers and blades will come again. So +with our hearts; they are as hopeful as in the earlier days, ere we had +lost sight of some of our jewels, and it is true our love has deathless +roots. + +Louis grows more blessed all the while. The step of my mother is slow, +and father bends to bear the burden of his years, while the voice of our +Fanny, who will be my sister through all time, cheers them in their +daily walk, as she holds in peace the place of little house-keeper. She +loves her home, and we love her. Louis and I have just been looking at +the pleasant picture in our middle room, where our Emily Minot, sitting +between gray hairs, holds in her lap a year-old brother (Louis), while +Fanny, sitting on the old sofa, sings the song of "Gentle Annie." + +Matthias, Peg and John are coming over the hill; Jane and her husband +will be here soon, for I am to have a birthday supper. Ben will be with +us, but Hal and Mary, with little Hal, are across the sea. They sailed +last June to find "Love's Fawn," or rather strength for Mary. Aunt +Hildy, "done up in marble," went with them. They will come to us in +June, the month of roses; I love it best of all. + +"Hope dey will; but 'pears like you's jes' gone an' done it." + +It is morning again. No clouds skirt the horizon; broad, beautiful +daylight beams lovingly upon us. The wind, which yesterday blew such +fierce breaths, journeyed southward during the night, and returned laden +with good-tempered sweetness, whispering of warmer days. We had a +pleasant birthday supper, and by request I read aloud a few of the +foregoing chapters. Matthias rose in terror as he listened to the +recital of our united lives, and interrupted me, saying: + +"De good lansake, 'fore de Lord ob Canaan! but you ain't gwine to put +_me_ down in rale printed readin', is ye?" + +One would have supposed I had been reading his death warrant, or +something equally portentous, as he stood before me with dilated eyes +and upraised hands. I smiled at the picture and answered: + +"Certainly." + +"Wall," he said, in a despairing tone, "it'll jes' kill de sale ob dat +book. All de res' is good nuf, but dem tings I'se said don't have no +larnin' to 'em, Miss Em'ly. 'Spect de folks'll tink you's done gone +crazy puttin' me down by de side ob de white lamb. It's mighty quare an' +on-reasonablelike, 'tis sartin'." + +"Oh, Matthias," I replied, "the people will like it!" + +"Hope you's in de right ob it, but what kin you call it when it's all +done printed out fur ye?" + +"That is the question. Louis says 'call it _The Harvest of Years_.'" + +The look of quiet wonder which had succeeded the terrified expression +his face at first revealed merged gradually into one of happy certainty, +his large eyes filled with honest tears, and he said with much feeling: + +"Mas'r Louis knows what's right sure nuf. De good Lord had taken into de +kingdom some ob de bes' grain an' lef de ole stubble still. 'Pears like +'twas cuttin' a big field fur to take Miss Catten an' de white lamb too. +Ah! Miss Em'ly, dis harves' ob years is a gwine on troo all de seasons; +hope dis ole nigger'll be ready when de Lord comes roun' fur him." + +The child of my thought is christened by the recognition which comes +from the heart of one who is "faithful over the few things," and +therefore claims the promise which many with enlarged privileges fail to +acknowledge. Can I regret the choice Louis made? My heart says "never," +and my narrative shall be called "The Harvest of Years." + +"Yes," said Louis, "I think so too; but my name for the book is 'Emily +Did It.'" + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Pg 164--moved closing quote from 'shook as if with ague."' to +'feel such a strange joy;"' + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harvest of Years, by +Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVEST OF YEARS *** + +***** This file should be named 18332.txt or 18332.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/3/18332/ + +Produced by Stacy Brown, Jason Isbell, Afra Ullah and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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