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diff --git a/2387-h/2387-h.htm b/2387-h/2387-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa90fe3 --- /dev/null +++ b/2387-h/2387-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2390 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Voice, by Margaret Deland +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Voice, by Margaret Deland + +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 Voice + +Author: Margaret Deland + +Posting Date: November 5, 2008 [EBook #2387] +Release Date: November, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE VOICE +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +MARGARET DELAND +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4>CONTENTS: +<A HREF="#chap01">I</A> +<A HREF="#chap02">II</A> +<A HREF="#chap03">III</A> +<A HREF="#chap04">IV</A> +</H4> + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<P> +"Dr. Lavendar," said William King, "some time when Goliath is doing his +2.40 on a plank road, don't you want to pull him up at that house on +the Perryville pike where the Grays used to live, and make a call? An +old fellow called Roberts has taken it; he is a—" +</P> + +<P> +"Teach your grandmother," said Dr. Lavendar; "he is an Irvingite. He +comes from Lower Ripple, down on the Ohio, and he has a daughter, +Philippa." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said Dr. King, "you know 'em, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Know them? Of course I know them! Do you think you are the only man +who tries to enlarge his business? But I was not successful in my +efforts. The old gentleman doesn't go to any church; and the young lady +inclines to the Perryville meeting-house—the parson there is a nice +boy." +</P> + +<P> +"She is an attractive young creature," said the doctor, smiling at some +pleasant memory; "the kind of girl a man would like to have for a +daughter. But did you ever know such an old-fashioned little thing!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, she's like the girls I knew when I was the age of the Perryville +parson, so I suppose you'd call her old-fashioned," Dr. Lavendar said. +"There aren't many such girls nowadays; sweet-tempered and sensible and +with some fun in 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you say 'good,' too?" William King inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Unnecessary," Dr. Lavendar said, scratching Danny's ear; "anybody who +is amiable, sensible, and humorous is good. Can't help it." +</P> + +<P> +"The father is good," William King said, "but he is certainly not +sensible. He's an old donkey, with his TONGUES and his VOICE!" +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Lavendar's face sobered. "No," he said, "he may be an Irvingite, +but he isn't a donkey." +</P> + +<P> +"What on earth is an Irvingite, anyhow?" William asked. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Lavendar looked at him, pityingly: "William, you are so +ridiculously young! Well, I suppose you can't help it. My boy, about +the time you were born, there was a man in London—some folks called +him a saint, and some folks called him a fool; it's a way folks have +had ever since our Lord came into this world. His name was Irving, and +he started a new sect." (Dr. Lavendar was as open-minded as it is +possible for one of his Church to be, but even he said "sect" when it +came to outsiders.) +</P> + +<P> +"He started this new sect, which believed that the Holy Ghost would +speak again by human lips, just as on the Day of Pentecost. Well, +there was 'speaking' in his congregation; sort of outbursts of +exhortation, you know. Mostly unintelligible. I remember Dr. +Alexander said it was 'gibberish'; he heard some of it when he was in +London. It may have been 'gibberish,' but nobody can doubt Irving's +sincerity in thinking it was the Voice of God. When he couldn't +understand it, he just called it an 'unknown tongue.' Of course he was +considered a heretic. He was put out of his Church. He died soon +after, poor fellow." +</P> + +<P> +"Doesn't Mr. Roberts's everlasting arguing about it tire you out?" +William asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no," Dr. Lavendar said, cheerfully; "when he talks too long I just +shut my eyes; he never notices it! He's a gentle old soul. When I +answer back—once in a while I really have to speak up for the +Protestant Episcopal Church—I feel as if I had kicked Danny." William +King grinned. Then he got up and, drawing his coat-tails forward, +stood with his back to the jug of lilacs in Dr. Lavendar's fireplace. +"Oh, well, of course it's all bosh," he said, and yawned; "I was on a +case till four o'clock this morning," he apologized. +</P> + +<P> +"William," said Dr. Lavendar, admiringly, "what an advantage you +fellows have over us poor parsons! Everything a medical man doesn't +understand is 'bosh'! Now, we can't classify things as easily as that." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't care," William said, doggedly; "from my point of view—" +</P> + +<P> +"From your point of view," said Dr. Lavendar, "St. Paul was an +epileptic, because he heard a Voice?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you really want to know what I think—" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't," Dr. Lavendar said; "I want you to know what I think. Mr. +Roberts hasn't heard any Voice, yet; he is only listening for it. +William, listening for the Voice of God isn't necessarily a sign of +poor health; and provided a man doesn't set himself up to think he is +the only person his Heavenly Father is willing to speak to, listening +won't do him any harm. As for Henry Roberts, he is a humble old man. +An example to me, William! I am pretty arrogant once in a while. I +have to be, with such men as you in my congregation. No; the real +trouble in that household is that girl of his. It isn't right for a +young thing to live in such an atmosphere." +</P> + +<P> +William agreed sleepily. "Pretty creature. Wish I had a daughter just +like her," he said, and took himself off to make up for a broken +night's rest. But Dr. Lavendar and Danny still sat in front of the +lilac-filled fireplace, and thought of old Henry Roberts listening for +the Voice of God, and of his Philippa. The father and daughter had +lately taken a house on a road that wandered over the hills between +elderberry-bushes and under sycamores, from Old Chester to Perryville. +They were about half-way between the two little towns, and they did not +seem to belong to either. Perryville's small manufacturing bustle +repelled the silent old man whom Dr. Lavendar called an "Irvingite"; +and Old Chester's dignity and dull aloofness repelled young Philippa. +The result was that the Robertses and their one woman servant, Hannah, +had been living on the Perryville pike for some months before anybody +in either village was quite aware of their existence. Then one day in +May, Dr. Lavendar's sagging old buggy pulled up at their gate, and the +old minister called over the garden wall to Philippa: "Won't you give +me some of your apple blossoms?" +</P> + +<P> +That was the beginning of Old Chester's knowledge of the Roberts +family. A little later Perryville came to know them, too: the Rev. John +Fenn, pastor of the Perryville Presbyterian Church, got off his big, +raw-boned Kentucky horse at the same little white gate in the brick +wall at which Goliath had stopped, and walked solemnly—not noticing +the apple blossoms—up to the porch. Henry Roberts was sitting there +in the hot twilight, with a curious listening look in his face—a look +of waiting expectation; it was so marked, that the caller involuntarily +glanced over his shoulder to see if any other visitor was approaching; +but there was nothing to be seen in the dusk but the roan nibbling at +the hitching-post. Mr. Fenn said that he had called to inquire whether +Mr. Roberts was a regular attendant at any place of worship. To which +the old man replied gently that every place was a place of worship, and +his own house was the House of God. John Fenn was honestly dismayed at +such sentiments—dismayed, and a little indignant; and yet, somehow, +the self-confidence of the old man daunted him. It made him feel very +young, and there is nothing so daunting to Youth as to feel young. +Therefore he said, venerably, that he hoped Mr. Roberts realized that +it was possible to deceive oneself in such matters. "It is a dangerous +thing to neglect the means of grace," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Surely it is," said Henry Roberts, meekly; after which there was +nothing for the caller to do but offer the Irvingite a copy of the +<I>American Messenger</I> and take his departure. He was so genuinely +concerned about Mr. Roberts's "danger," that he did not notice Philippa +sitting on a stool at her father's side. But Philippa noticed him. +</P> + +<P> +So, after their kind, did these two shepherds of souls endeavor to +establish a relationship with Henry and Philippa Roberts. And they +were equally successful. Philippa gave her apple blossoms to the old +minister,—and went to Mr. Fenn's church the very next Sunday. Henry +Roberts accepted the tracts with a simple belief in the kindly purpose +of the young minister, and stayed away from both churches. But both +father and daughter were pleased by the clerical attentions: +</P> + +<P> +"I love Dr. Lavendar," Philippa said to her father. +</P> + +<P> +"I am obliged to Mr. Fenn," her father said to Philippa. "The youth," +he added, "cares for my soul. I am obliged to any one who cares for my +soul." +</P> + +<P> +He was, indeed, as Dr. Lavendar said, a man of humble mind; and yet +with his humbleness was a serene certainty of belief as to his soul's +welfare that would have been impossible to John Fenn, who measured +every man's chance of salvation by his own theological yardstick, or +even to Dr. Lavendar, who thought salvation unmeasurable. But then +neither of these two ministers had had Henry Roberts's experience. It +was very far back, that experience; it happened before Philippa was +born; and when they came to live between the two villages Philippa was +twenty-four years old.... +</P> + +<P> +It was in the thirties that young Roberts, a tanner in Lower Ripple, +went to England to collect a small bequest left him by a relative. The +sense of distance, the long weeks at sea in a sailing-vessel, the new +country and the new people, all impressed themselves upon a very +sensitive mind, a mind which, even without such emotional preparation, +was ready to respond to any deeply emotional appeal. Then came the +appeal. It was that new gospel of the Tongues, which, in those days, +astounded and thrilled all London from the lips of Edward +Irving—fanatic, saint, and martyr!—the man who, having prayed that +God would speak again in prophecy, would not deny the power of prayer +by refusing to believe that his prayer was answered, even though the +prophecy was unintelligible. And later, when the passionate cadences +of the spirit were in English, and were found to be only trite or +foolish words, repeated and repeated in a wailing chant by some +sincere, hysterical woman, he still believed that a new day of +Pentecost had dawned upon a sinful world! "For," said he, "when I +asked for bread, would God give me a stone?" +</P> + +<P> +Henry Roberts went to hear the great preacher and forgot his haste to +receive his little legacy so that he might hurry back to the tanyard. +Irving's eloquence entranced him, and it alone would have held him +longer than the time he had allowed himself for absence from the +tannery. But it happened that he was present on that Lord's Day when, +with a solemn and dreadful sound, the Tongues first spoke in that dingy +Chapel in Regent Square, and no man who heard that Sound ever forgot +it! The mystical youth from America was shaken to his very soul. He +stayed on in London for nearly a year, immersing himself in those tides +of emotion which swept saner minds than his from the somewhat dry land +of ordinary human experience. That no personal revelation was made to +him, that the searing benediction of the Tongues had not touched his +own awed, uplifted brow, made no difference: he believed!—and prayed +God to help any lingering unbelief that might be holding him back from +deeper knowledges. To the end of his days he was Edward Irving's +follower; and when he went back to America it was as a missionary of +the new sect, that called itself by the sounding title of The Catholic +Apostolic Church. In Lower Ripple he preached to any who would listen +to him the doctrine of the new Pentecost. At first curiosity brought +him hearers; his story of the Voice, dramatic and mysterious, was +listened to in doubting silence; then disapproved of—so hotly +disapproved of that he was sessioned and read out of Church. +</P> + +<P> +But in those days in western Pennsylvania, mere living was too +engrossing a matter for much thought of "tongues" and "voices"; it was +easier, when a man talked of dreams and visions, not to argue with him, +but to say that he was "crazy." So by and by Henry Roberts's heresy +was forgotten and his religion merely smiled at. Certainly it struck +no roots outside his own heart. Even his family did not share his +belief. When he married, as he did when he was nearly fifty, his wife +was impatient with his Faith—indeed, fearful of it, and with +persistent, nagging reasonableness urged his return to the respectable +paths of Presbyterianism. To his pain, when his girl, his Philippa, +grew up she shrank from the emotion of his creed; she and her mother +went to the brick church under the locust-trees of Lower Ripple; and +when her mother died Philippa went there alone, for Henry Roberts, not +being permitted to bear witness in the Church, did so out of it, by +sitting at home on the Sabbath day, in a bare upper chamber, waiting +for the manifestation of the Holy Spirit. It never came. The Tongues +never spoke. Yet still, while the years passed, he waited, +listening—listening—listening; a kindly, simple old man with mystical +brown eyes, believing meekly in his own unworth to hear again that +Sound from Heaven, as of a rushing, mighty wind, that had filled the +London Chapel, bowing human souls before it as a great wind bows the +standing corn! +</P> + +<P> +It was late in the sixties that Henry Roberts brought this faith and +his Philippa to the stone house on the Perryville pike, where, after +some months had passed, they were discovered by the old and the young +ministers. The two clergymen met once or twice in their calls upon the +new-comer, and each acquired an opinion of the other: John Fenn said to +himself that the old minister was a good man, if he was an +Episcopalian; and Dr. Lavendar said to William King that he hoped there +would be a match between the "theolog" and Philippa. +</P> + +<P> +"The child ought to be married and have a dozen children," he said; +"although Fenn's little sister will do to begin on—she needs mothering +badly enough. Yes, Miss Philly ought to be making smearkase and +apple-butter for that pale and excellent young man. He intimated that I +was a follower of the Scarlet Woman because I wore a surplice." +</P> + +<P> +"Now look here! I draw the line at that sort of talk," the doctor said; +"he can lay down the law to me, all he wants to; but when it comes to +instructing you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well, he's young," Dr. Lavendar soothed him; "you can't expect him +not to know everything at his age." +</P> + +<P> +"He's a squirt," said William. In those days in Old Chester middle age +was apt to sum up its opinion of youth in this expressive word. +</P> + +<P> +"We were all squirts once," said Dr. Lavendar, "and very nice boys we +were, too—at least I was. Yes, I hope the youngster will see what a +sweet creature old Roberts's Philippa is." +</P> + +<P> +She was a sweet creature; but as William King said, she was amusingly +old-fashioned. The Old Chester girl of those days, who seems (to look +back upon her in these days) so medieval, was modern compared to +Philippa! But there was nothing mystical about her; she was just +modest and full of pleasant silences and soft gaieties and simple, +startling truth-telling. At first, when they came to live near +Perryville, she used, when the weather was fine, to walk over the +grassy road, under the brown and white branches of the sycamores, into +Old Chester, to Dr. Lavendar's church. "I like to come to your +church," she told him, "because you don't preach quite such long +sermons as Mr. Fenn does." But when it rained or was very hot she +chose the shorter walk and sat under John Fenn, looking up at his pale, +ascetic face, lighted from within by his young certainties concerning +the old ignorances of people like Dr. Lavendar—life and death and +eternity. Of Dr. Lavendar's one certainty, Love, he was deeply +ignorant, this honest boy, who was so concerned for Philippa's father's +soul! But Philippa did not listen much to his certainties; she coaxed +his little sister into her pew, and sat with the child cuddled up +against her, watching her turn over the leaves of the hymn-book or +trying to braid the fringe of Miss Philly's black silk mantilla into +little pigtails. Sometimes Miss Philly would look up at the careworn +young face in the pulpit and think how holy Mary's brother was, and how +learned—and how shabby; for he had only a housekeeper, Mrs. Semple, to +take care of him and Mary. Not but what he might have had somebody +besides Mrs. Semple! Philippa, for all her innocence, could not help +being aware that he might have had—almost anybody! For others of +Philly's sex watched the rapt face there in the pulpit. When Philippa +thought of that, a slow blush used to creep up to her very temples. +She saw him oftener in the pulpit than out of it, because when he came +to call on her father she was apt not to be present. At first he came +very frequently to see the Irvingite, because he felt it his duty to +"deal" with him; but he made so little impression that he foresaw the +time when it would be necessary to say that Ephraim was joined to his +idols. But though it might be right to "let him alone," he could not +stop calling at Henry Roberts's house; "for," he reminded himself, "the +believing daughter may sanctify the unbelieving father!" He said this +once to Dr. Lavendar, when his roan and old Goliath met in a narrow +lane and paused to let their masters exchange a word or two. +</P> + +<P> +"But do you know what the believing daughter believes?" said Dr. +Lavendar. He wiped his forehead with his red bandanna, for it was a hot +day; then he put his old straw hat very far back on his head and looked +at the young man with a twinkle in his eye, which, considering the +seriousness of their conversation, was discomfiting; but, after all, as +John Fenn reminded himself, Dr. Lavendar was very old, and so might be +forgiven if his mind was lacking in seriousness. As for his question +of what the daughter believed: "I think—I hope," said the young +minister, "that she is sound. She comes to my church quite regularly." +"But she comes to my church quite irregularly," Dr. Lavendar warned +him; and there was another of those disconcerting twinkles. +</P> + +<P> +The boy looked at him with honest, solemn eyes. "I still believe that +she is sound," he said, earnestly. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Lavendar blew his nose with a flourish of the red bandanna. "Well, +perhaps she is, perhaps she is," he said, gravely. But the reassurance +of that "perhaps" did not make for John Fenn's peace of mind; he could +not help asking himself whether Miss Philippa WAS a "believing +daughter." She did not, he was sure, share her father's heresies, but +perhaps she was indifferent to them? which would be a grievous thing! +And certainly, as the old minister had declared, she did go +"irregularly" to the Episcopal Church. John Fenn wished that he was +sure of Miss Philippa's state of mind; and at last he said to himself +that it was his duty to find out about it, so, with his little sister +beside him, he started on a round of pastoral calls. He found Miss +Philly sitting in the sunshine on the lowest step of the front +porch—and it seemed to Mary that there was a good deal of delay in +getting at the serious business of play; "for brother talks so much," +she complained. But "brother" went on talking. He told Miss Philippa +that he understood she went sometimes to Old Chester to church? +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not mean," he said, hesitatingly, "to speak uncharitably, but we +all know that Episcopacy is the handmaid of Papistry." +</P> + +<P> +"Do we?" Philly asked, with grave eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Mr. Fenn. "But even if Dr. Lavendar's teachings are +defective,"—Mary plucked at his sleeve, and sighed loudly; "(no, +Mary!)—even if his teachings are defective, he is a good man according +to his lights; I am sure of that. Still, do you think it well to +attend a place of worship when you cannot follow the pastor's +teachings?" +</P> + +<P> +"I love him. And I don't listen to what he says," she excused herself. +</P> + +<P> +"But you should listen to what ministers say," the shocked young man +protested—"at least to ministers of the right faith. But you should +not go to church because you love ministers." +</P> + +<P> +Philippa's face flamed. "I do not love—most of them." +</P> + +<P> +Mary, leaning against the girl's knee, looked up anxiously into her +face. "Do you love brother?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +They were a pretty pair, the child and the girl, sitting there on the +porch with the sunshine sifting down through the lacy leaves of the two +big locusts on either side of the door. Philippa wore a pink and green +palm-leaf chintz; it had six ruffles around the skirt and was gathered +very full about her slender waist; her lips were red, and her cheeks +and even her neck were delicately flushed; her red-brown hair was +blowing all about her temples; Mary had put an arm around her and was +cuddling against her. Yes, even Mary's brother would have thought the +two young things a pretty sight had there been nothing more serious to +think of. But John Fenn's thoughts were so very serious that even +Mary's question caused him no embarrassment; he merely said, stiffly, +that he would like to see Miss Philippa alone. "You may wait here, +Mary," he told his little sister, who frowned and sighed and went out +to the gate to pull a handful of grass for the roan. +</P> + +<P> +Philippa led her caller to her rarely used parlor, and sat down to +listen in silent pallor to his exhortations. She made no explanations +for not coming to his church regularly; she offered no excuse of filial +tenderness for her indifference to her father's mistaken beliefs; she +looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, then out of the +window at the big roan biting at the hitching-post or standing very +still to let Mary rub his silky nose. But John Fenn looked only at +Philippa. Of her father's heresies he would not, he said, do more than +remind her that the wiles of the devil against her soul might present +them-selves through her natural affections; but in regard to her +failure to wait upon the means of grace he spoke without mercy, for, he +said, "faithful are the wounds of a friend." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you my friend?" Philly asked, lifting her gray eyes suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Fenn was greatly confused; the text-books of the Western Seminary +had not supplied him with the answer to such a question. He explained, +hurriedly, that he was the friend of all who wished for salvation. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not especially wish for it," Philippa said, very low. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment John Fenn was silent with horror. "That one so young +should be so hardened!" he thought; aloud, he bade her remember hell +fire. He spoke with that sad and simple acceptance of the fact with +which, even less than fifty years ago, men humbled themselves before +the mystery which they had themselves created, of divine injustice. +She must know, he said, his voice trembling with sincerity, that those +who slighted the offers of grace were cast into outer darkness? +</P> + +<P> +Philly said, softly, "Maybe." +</P> + +<P> +"'Maybe?' Alas, it is, certainly! Oh, why, WHY do you absent yourself +from the house of God?" he said, holding out entreating hands. +Philippa made no reply. "Let us pray!" said the young man; and they +knelt down side by side in the shadowy parlor. John Fenn lifted his +harsh, melancholy face, gazing upward passionately, while he wrestled +for her salvation; Philly, looking downward, tracing with a trembling +finger the pattern of the beadwork on the ottoman before which she +knelt, listened with an inward shiver of dismay and ecstasy. But when +they rose to their feet she had nothing to say. He, too, was silent. +He went away quite exhausted by his struggle with this impassive, +unresisting creature. +</P> + +<P> +He hardly spoke to Mary all the way home. "A hardened sinner," he was +thinking. "Poor, lovely creature! So young and so lost!" Under Mary's +incessant chatter, her tugs at the end of the reins, her little bursts +of joy at the sight of a bird or a roadside flower, he was thinking, +with a strange new pain—a pain no other sinner had ever roused in +him—of the girl he had left. He knew that his arguments had not moved +her. "I believe," he thought, the color rising in his face, "that she +dislikes me! She says she loves Dr. Lavendar; yes, she must dislike +me. Is my manner too severe? Perhaps my appearance is unattractive." +He looked down at his coat uneasily. +</P> + +<P> +As for Philly, left to herself, she picked up a bit of sewing, and her +face, at first pale, grew slowly pink. "He only likes sinners," she +thought; "and, oh, I am not a sinner!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<P> +After that on Sabbath mornings Philippa sat with her father, in the +silent upper chamber. At first Henry Roberts, +listening—listening—for the Voice, thought, rapturously, that at the +eleventh hour he was to win a soul—the most precious soul in his +world!—to his faith. But when, after a while, he questioned her, he +saw that this was not so; she stayed away from other churches, but not +because she cared for his church. This troubled him, for the faith he +had outgrown was better than no faith. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you have doubts concerning the soundness of either of the +ministers—the old man or the young man?" he asked her, looking at her +with mild, anxious eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, sir," Philly said, smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you dislike them—the young man or the old man?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, father. I love—one of them." +</P> + +<P> +"Then why not go to his church? Either minister can give you the seeds +of salvation; one not less than the other. Why not sit under either +ministry?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," Philippa said, faintly. +</P> + +<P> +And indeed she did not know why she absented herself. She only knew two +things: that the young man seemed to disapprove of the old man; and +when she saw the young man in the pulpit, impersonal and holy, she +suffered. Therefore she would not go to hear either man. +</P> + +<P> +When Dr. Lavendar came to call upon her father, he used to glance at +Philippa sometimes over his spectacles while Henry Roberts was arguing +about prophecies; but he never asked her why she stayed away from +church; instead, he talked to her about John Fenn, and he seemed +pleased when he heard that the young man was doing his duty in making +pastoral calls. "And I—I, unworthy as I was!" Henry Roberts would +say, "I heard the Voice, speaking through a sister's lips; and it said: +Oh, sinner! for what, for what, what can separate, separate, from the +love... Oh, nothing. Oh, nothing. Oh, nothing." +</P> + +<P> +He would stare at Dr. Lavendar with parted lips. "I HEARD IT," he +would say, in a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +And Dr. Lavendar, bending his head gravely, would be silent for a +respectful moment, and then he would look at Philippa. "You are +teaching Fenn's sister to sew?" he would say. "Very nice! Very nice!" +</P> + +<P> +Philly saw a good deal of the sister that summer; the young minister, +recognizing Miss Philippa's fondness for Mary, and remembering a text +as to the leading of a child, took pains to bring the little girl to +Henry Roberts's door once or twice a week; and as August burned away +into September Philippa's pleasure in her was like a soft wind blowing +on the embers of her heart and kindling a flame for which she knew no +name. She thought constantly of Mary, and had many small anxieties +about her—her dress, her manners, her health; she even took the child +into Old Chester one day to get William King to pull a little loose +white tooth. Philly shook very much during the operation and mingled +her tears with Mary's in that empty and bleeding moment that follows +the loss of a tooth. She was so passionately tender with the little +girl that the doctor told Dr. Lavendar that his match-making scheme +seemed likely to prosper—"she's so fond of the sister, you should have +heard her sympathize with the little thing!—that I think she will +smile on the brother," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid the brother hasn't cut his wisdom teeth yet," Dr. Lavendar +said, doubtfully; "if he had, you might pull them, and she could +sympathize with him; then it would all arrange itself. Well, he's a +nice boy, a nice boy;—and he won't know so much when he gets a little +older." +</P> + +<P> +It was on the way home from Dr. King's that Philippa's feeling of +responsibility about Mary brought her a sudden temptation. They were +walking hand in hand along the road. The leaves on the mottled +branches of the sycamores were thinning now, and the sunshine fell warm +upon the two young things, who were still a little shaken from the +frightful experience of tooth-pulling. The doctor had put the small +white tooth in a box and gravely presented it to Mary, and now, as they +walked along, she stopped sometimes to examine it and say, proudly, how +she had "bleeded and bleeded!" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you tell brother the doctor said I behaved better than the circus +lion when his tooth was pulled?" +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed I will, Mary!" +</P> + +<P> +"An' he said he'd rather pull my tooth than a lion's tooth?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I'll tell him." +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Philly, shall I dream of my tooth, do you suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +Philippa laughed and said she didn't know. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope I will; it means something nice. I forget what, now." +</P> + +<P> +"Dreams don't mean anything, Mary." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, they do!" the child assured her, skipping along with one arm +round the girl's slender waist. "Mrs. Semple has a dream-book, and she +reads it to me every day, an' she reads me what my dreams mean. +Sometimes I haven't any dreams," Mary admitted, regretfully, "but she +reads all the same. Did you ever dream about a black ox walking on its +back legs? I never did. I don't want to. It means trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"Goosey!" said Miss Philippa. +</P> + +<P> +"If you dream of the moon," Mary went on, happily, "it means you are +going to have a beau who'll love you." +</P> + +<P> +"Little girls mustn't talk about love," Philippa said, gravely; but the +color came suddenly into her face. To dream of the moon means—Why! +but only the night before she had dreamed that she had been walking in +the fields and had seen the moon rise over shocks of corn that stood +against the sky like the plumed heads of Indian warriors! "Such things +are foolish, Mary," Miss Philly said, her cheeks very pink. And while +Mary chattered on about Mrs. Semple's book Philippa was silent, +remembering how yellow the great flat disk of the moon had been in her +dream; how it pushed up from behind the black edge of the world, and +how, suddenly, the misty stubble-field was flooded with its strange +light:—"you are going to have a beau!" +</P> + +<P> +Philippa wished she might see the book, just to know what sort of +things were read to Mary. "It isn't right to read them to the child," +she thought; "it's a foolish book, Mary," she said, aloud. "I never +saw such a book." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll bring it the next time I come," Mary promised. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, no," Philly said, a little breathlessly; "it's a wrong book. I +couldn't read such a book, except—except to tell you how foolish and +wrong it is." +</P> + +<P> +Mary was not concerned with her friend's reasons; but she remembered to +bring the ragged old book with her the very next time her brother +dropped her at Mr. Roberts's gate to spend an hour with Miss Philippa. +There had to be a few formal words between the preacher and the sinner +before Mary had entire possession of her playmate, but when her brother +drove away, promising to call for her later in the afternoon, she +became so engrossed in the important task of picking hollyhock seeds +that she quite forgot the dream-book. The air was hazy with autumn, +and full of the scent of fallen leaves and dew-drenched grass and of +the fresh tan-bark on the garden paths. On the other side of the road +was a corn-field, where the corn stood in great shocks. Philly looked +over at it, and drew a quick breath,—her dream! +</P> + +<P> +"Did you bring that foolish book?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +Mary, slapping her pocket, laughed loudly. "I 'most forgot! Yes, +ma'am; I got it. I'll show what it says about the black ox—" +</P> + +<P> +"No; you needn't," Miss Philly said; "you pick some more seeds for me, +and I'll—just look at it." She touched the stained old book with +shrinking fingertips; the moldering leather cover and the odor of +soiled and thumb-marked leaves offended her. The first page was folded +over, and when she spread it out, the yellowing paper cracked along its +ancient creases; it was a map, with the signs of the Zodiac; in the +middle was a single verse: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Mortal! Wouldst thou scan aright<BR> + Dreams and visions of the night?<BR> + Wouldst thou future secrets learn<BR> + And the fate of dreams discern?<BR> + Wouldst thou ope the Curtain dark<BR> + And thy future fortune mark?<BR> + Try the mystic page, and read<BR> + What the vision has decreed.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Philly, holding her red lip between her teeth, turned the pages: +</P> + +<P> +"MONEY. TO DREAM OF FINDING MONEY; MOURNING AND LOSS. +</P> + +<P> +"MONKEY. YOU HAVE SECRET ENEMIES. +</P> + +<P> +"MOON." (Philippa shivered.) "A GOOD OMEN; IT DENOTES COMING JOY. +GREAT SUCCESS IN LOVE." +</P> + +<P> +She shut the book sharply, then opened it again. Such books sometimes +told (so foolishly!) of charms which would bring love. She looked +furtively at Mary; but the child, pulling down a great hollyhock to +pick the fuzzy yellow disks, was not noticing Miss Philly's interest in +the "foolish book." Philippa turned over the pages. Yes; the charms +were there!... +</P> + +<P> +Instructions for making dumb-cake, to cut which reveals a lover: "ANY +NUMBER OF YOUNG FEMALES SHALL TAKE A HANDFUL OF WHEATEN FLOUR—" That +was no use; there were too many females as it was! +</P> + +<P> +"TO KNOW WHETHER A MAN SHALL HAVE THE WOMAN HE WISHES." Philippa +sighed. Not that. A holy man does not "wish" for a woman. +</P> + +<P> +"A CHARM TO CHARM A MAN'S LOVE." The blood suddenly ran tingling in +Philly's veins. "LET A YOUNG MAID PICK OF ROSEMARY TWO ROOTS; OF +MONK'S-HOOD—" +</P> + +<P> +A line had been drawn through this last word, and another word written +above it; but the ink was so faded, the page so woolly and thin with +use, that it was impossible to decipher the correction; perhaps it was +"mother-wort," an herb Philly did not know; or it might be "mandrake"? +It looked as much like one as the other, the writing was so blurred and +dim. "It is best to take what the book says," Philly said, simply; +"besides, I haven't those other things in the garden, and I have +monk's-hood and rosemary—if I should want to do it, just for fun." +</P> + +<P> +"OF MONK'S-HOOD TWO ROOTS, AND OF THE FLOWER OF CORN TEN THREADS; LET +HER SLEEP ON THEM ONE NIGHT. IN THE MORNING, LET HER SET THEM ON HER +HEART AND WALK BACKWARDS TEN STEPS, PRAYING FOR THE LOVE OF HER +BELOVED. LET HER THEN STEEP AND BOIL THESE THINGS IN FOUR GILLS OF +PURE WATER ON WHICH THE MOON HAS SHONE FOR ONE NIGHT. WHEN SHE SHALL +ADD THIS PHILTER TO THE DRINK OF THE ONE WHO LOVES HER NOT, HE SHALL +LOVE THE FEMALE WHO MEETS HIS EYE FIRST AFTER THE DRINKING THEREOF. +THEREFORE LET THE YOUNG MAID BE INDUSTRIOUS TO STAND BEFORE HIM WHEN HE +SHALL DRINK IT." +</P> + +<P> +"There is no harm in it," said Philly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<P> +"Somebody making herb tea and stealing my business?" said William King, +in his kindly voice; he had called to see old Hannah, who had been laid +up for a day or two, and he stopped at the kitchen door to look in. +Henry Roberts, coming from the sitting-room to join him, asked his +question, too: +</P> + +<P> +"What is this smell of herbs, Philippa? Are you making a drink for +Hannah?" "Oh no, father," Philly said, briefly, her face very pink. +</P> + +<P> +William King sniffed and laughed. "Ah, I see you don't give away your +secrets to a rival," he said; and added, pleasantly, "but don't give +your tea to Hannah without telling me what it is." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Philippa said, dutifully, "Oh no, sir." But she did not tell him +what the "tea" was, and certainly she offered none of it to old Hannah. +All that day there was a shy joyousness about her, with sudden soft +blushes, and once or twice a little half-frightened laugh; there was a +puzzled look, too, in her face, as if she was not quite sure just what +she was going to do, or rather, how she was going to do it. And, of +course, that was the difficulty. How could she "add the philter to the +drink of one who loved her not"? +</P> + +<P> +Yet it came about simply enough. John Fenn had lately felt it borne in +upon him that it was time to make another effort to deal with Henry +Roberts; perhaps, he reasoned, to show concern about the father's soul +might touch the daughter's hardened heart. It was when he reached this +conclusion that he committed the extravagance of buying a new coat. So +it happened that that very afternoon, while the house was still pungent +with the scent of steeping herbs, he came to Henry Roberts's door, and +knocked solemnly, as befitted his errand; (but as he heard her step in +the hall he passed an anxious hand over a lapel of the new coat). Her +father, she said, was not at home; would Mr. Fenn come in and wait for +him? Mr. Fenn said he would. And as he always tried, poor boy! to be +instant in season and out of season, he took the opportunity, while he +waited for her father and she brought him a glass of wine and a piece +of cake, to reprove her again for absence from church. But she was so +meek that he found it hard to inflict those "faithful wounds" which +should prove his friendship for her soul; she sat before him on the +slippery horsehair sofa in the parlor, her hands locked tightly +together in her lap, her eyes downcast, her voice very low and +trembling. She admitted her backslidings: she acknowledged her errors; +but as for coming to church—she shook her head: +</P> + +<P> +"Please, I won't come to church yet." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean you will come, sometime?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; sometime." +</P> + +<P> +"Behold, NOW is the accepted time!" +</P> + +<P> +"I will come... afterwards." +</P> + +<P> +"After what?" he insisted. +</P> + +<P> +"After—" she said, and paused. Then suddenly lifted bold, guileless +eyes: "After you stop caring for my soul." +</P> + +<P> +John Fenn caught his breath. Something, he did not know what, seemed +to jar him rudely from that pure desire for her salvation; he said, +stumblingly, that he would ALWAYS care for her soul!—"for—for any +one's soul." And was she quite well? His voice broke with tenderness. +She must be careful to avoid the chill of these autumnal afternoons; +"you are pale," he said, passionately—"don't—oh, don't be so pale!" +It occurred to him that if she waited for him "not to care" for her +salvation, she might die in her sins; die before coming to the gate of +heaven, which he was so anxious to open to her! +</P> + +<P> +Philippa did not see his agitation; she was not looking at him. She +only said, softly, "Perhaps you will stay to tea?" +</P> + +<P> +He answered quickly that he would be pleased to do so. In the +simplicity of his saintly egotism it occurred to him that the religious +pleasure of entertaining him might be a means of grace to her. When +she left him in the dusk of the chilly room to go and see to the +supper, he fell into silent prayer for the soul that did not desire his +care. +</P> + +<P> +Henry Roberts, summoned by his daughter to entertain the guest until +supper was ready, found him sitting in the darkness of the parlor; the +old man was full of hospitable apologies for his Philippa's +forgetfulness; "she did not remember the lamp!" he lamented; and making +his way through the twilight of the room, he took off the prism-hung +shade of the tall astral lamp on the center-table, and fumbled for a +match to light the charred and sticky wick; there were very few +occasions in this plain household when it was worth while to light the +best lamp! This was one of them, for in those days the office +dignified the man to a degree that is hardly understood now. But Henry +Roberts's concern was not entirely a matter of social propriety; it was +a desire to propitiate this young man who was living in certain errors +of belief, so that he would be in a friendly attitude of mind and open +to the arguments which were always burning on the lips of Edward +Irving's follower. He did not mean to begin them until they were at +supper; so he and John Fenn sat in silence waiting Philippa's summons +to the dining-room. Neither of them had any small talk; Mr. Roberts +was making sure that he could trust his memory to repeat those wailing +cadences of the Voice, and John Fenn, still shaken by something he +could not understand that had been hidden in what he understood too +well—a sinner's indifference to grace—was trying to get back to his +serene, impersonal arrogance. +</P> + +<P> +As for Philippa, she was frightened at her temerity in having invited +the minister to a Hannahless supper; her flutter of questions as to +"what" and "how" brought the old woman from her bed, in spite of the +girl's half-hearted protests that she "mustn't think of getting up! +Just tell me what to do," she implored, "I can manage. We are going to +have—TEA!" +</P> + +<P> +"We always have tea," Hannah said, sourly; yet she was not really sour, +for, like William King and Dr. Lavendar, Hannah had discerned +possibilities in the Rev. John Fenn's pastoral visits. "Get your +Sunday-go-to-meeting dress on," she commanded, hunching a shawl over a +rheumatic shoulder and motioning the girl out of the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +Philippa, remorseful and breathless, ran quickly up to her room to put +on her best frock, smooth her shining hair down in two loops over her +ears, and pin her one adornment, a flat gold brooch, on the bosom of +her dress. She lifted her candle and looked at herself in the black +depths of the little swinging glass on her high bureau, and her face +fell into sudden wistful lines. "Oh, I do not look wicked," she +thought, despairingly. +</P> + +<P> +John Fenn, glancing at her across the supper-table, had some such +thought himself; how strange that one who was so perverted in belief +should not betray perversion in her countenance. "On the contrary, her +face is pleasing," he said, simply. He feared, noticing the brooch, +that she was vain, as well as indifferent to her privileges; he +wondered if she had observed his new coat. +</P> + +<P> +Philippa's vanity did not, at any rate, give her much courage; she +scarcely spoke, except to ask him whether he took cream and sugar in +his tea. When she handed his cup to him, she said, very low, "Will you +taste it, and see if it is right?" +</P> + +<P> +He was so conscious of the tremor of her voice and hand that he made +haste to reassure her, sipping his tea with much politeness of manner; +as he did so, she said, suddenly, and with compelling loudness, "Is +it—agreeable?" +</P> + +<P> +John Fenn, startled, looked at her over the rim of his cup. "Very; +very indeed," he said, quickly. But he instantly drank some water. "It +is, perhaps, a little strong," he said, blinking. Then, having +qualified his politeness for conscience' sake, he drank all the bitter +tea for human kindness' sake—for evidently Miss Philippa had taken +pains to give him what he might like. After that she did not speak, +but her face grew very rosy while she sat in silence listening to her +father and their guest. Henry Roberts forgot to eat, in the passion of +his theological arguments, but as supper proceeded he found his +antagonist less alert than usual; the minister defended his own +doctrines instead of attacking those of his host; he even admitted, a +little listlessly, that if the Power fell upon him, if he himself spoke +in a strange tongue, then perhaps he would believe—"that is, if I +could be sure I was not out of my mind at the time," he qualified, +dully. Philippa took no part in the discussion; it would not have been +thought becoming in her to do so; but indeed, she hardly heard what the +two men were saying. She helped old Hannah carry away the dishes, and +then sat down by the table and drew the lamp near her so that she could +sew; she sat there smiling a little, dimpling even, and looking down at +her seam; she did not notice that John Fenn was being worsted, or that +once he failed altogether to reply, and sat in unprotesting silence +under Henry Roberts's rapt remembrances. A curious blackness had +settled under his eyes, and twice he passed his hand across his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"They are numb," he said, in surprised apology to his host. A moment +later he shivered violently, beads of sweat burst out on his forehead, +and the color swept from his face. He started up, staring wildly about +him; he tried to speak, but his words stumbled into incoherent +babbling. It was all so sudden, his rising, then falling back into his +chair, then slipping sidewise and crumpling up upon the floor, all the +while stammering unmeaning words—that Henry Roberts sat looking at him +in dumb amazement. It was Philippa who cried out and ran forward to +help him, then stopped midway, her hands clutched together at her +throat, her eyes dilating with a horror that seemed to paralyze her so +that she was unable to move to his assistance. The shocked silence of +the moment was broken by Fenn's voice, trailing on and on, in totally +unintelligible words. +</P> + +<P> +Henry Roberts, staring open-mouthed, suddenly spoke: "The VOICE!" he +said. But Philippa, as though she were breaking some invisible bond +that held her, groaning even with the effort of it, said, in a whisper: +"No. Not that. He is dying. Don't you see? That's what it is. He is +dying." +</P> + +<P> +Her father, shocked from his ecstasy, ran to John Fenn's side, trying +to lift him and calling upon him to say what was the matter. +</P> + +<P> +"He is going to die," said Philippa, monotonously. +</P> + +<P> +Henry Roberts, aghast, calling loudly to old Hannah, ran to the kitchen +and brought back a great bowl of hot water. "Drink it!" he said. "Drink +it, I tell ye! I believe you're poisoned!" +</P> + +<P> +And while he and Hannah bent over the unconscious young man, Philippa +seemed to come out of her trance; slowly, with upraised hands, and head +bent upon her breast, she stepped backward, backward, out of the room, +out of the house. On the doorstep, in the darkness, she paused and +listened for several minutes to certain dreadful sounds in the house. +Then, suddenly, a passion of purpose swept the daze of horror away. +</P> + +<P> +"HE SHALL NOT DIE," she said. +</P> + +<P> +She flung her skirt across her arm that her feet might not be hampered, +and fled down the road toward Old Chester. It was very dark. At first +her eyes, still blurred with the lamplight, could not distinguish the +footpath, and she stumbled over the grassy border into the wheel-ruts; +then, feeling the loose dust under her feet, she ran and ran and ran. +The blood began to sing in her ears; once her throat seemed to close so +that she could not breathe, and for a moment she had to walk,—but her +hands, holding up her skirts, trembled with terror at the delay. The +road was very dark under the sycamore-trees; twice she tripped and fell +into the brambles at one side or against a gravelly bank on the other. +But stumbling somehow to her feet, again she ran and ran and ran. The +night was very still; she could hear her breath tearing her throat; +once she felt something hot and salty in her mouth; it was then she had +to stop and walk for a little space—she must walk or fall down! And +she could not fall down, no! no! no! he would die if she fell down! +Once a figure loomed up in the haze, and she caught the glimmer of an +inquisitive eye. "Say," a man's voice said, "where are you bound for?" +There was something in the tone that gave her a stab of fright; for a +minute or two her feet seemed to fly, and she heard a laugh behind her +in the darkness: "What's your hurry?" the voice called after her. And +still she ran. But she was saying to herself that she must STOP; she +must stand still just for a moment. "Oh, just for a minute?" her body +whimperingly entreated; she would not listen to it! She must not +listen, even though her heart burst with the strain. But her body had +its way, and she fell into a walk, although she was not aware of it. +In a gasping whisper she was saying, over and over: "Doctor, hurry; +he'll die; hurry; I killed him." She tried to be silent, but her lips +moved mechanically. "Doctor, hurry; he'll—Oh, I MUSTN'T talk!" she +told herself, "it takes my breath"—but still her lips moved. She began +to run, heavily. "I can't talk—if—I—run—" It was then that she +saw a glimmer of light and knew that she was almost in Old Chester. +Very likely she would have fallen if she had not seen that far-off +window just when she did. +</P> + +<P> +At William King's house she dropped against the door, her fingers still +clinging to the bell. She was past speaking when the doctor lifted her +and carried her into the office. "No; don't try to tell me what it +is," he said; "I'll put Jinny into the buggy, and we'll get back in a +jiffy. I understand; Hannah is worse." +</P> + +<P> +"Not... Hannah—" +</P> + +<P> +"Your father?" he said, picking up his medicine-case. +</P> + +<P> +"Not father; Mr.—Fenn—" +</P> + +<P> +As the doctor hurried out to the stable to hitch up he bade his wife +put certain remedies into his bag,—"and look after that child," he +called over his shoulder to his efficient Martha. She was so efficient +that when he had brought Jinny and the buggy to the door, Philly was +able to gasp out that Mr. Fenn was sick. "Dying." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't try to talk," he said again, as he helped her into the buggy. +But after a while she was able to tell him, hoarsely: +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted him to love me." William King was silent. "I used a charm. +It was wicked." +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come; not wicked," said the doctor; "a little foolish, perhaps. +A new frock, and a rose in your hair, and a smile at another man, would +be enough of a charm, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +Philippa shook her head. "It was not enough. I wore my best frock, and +I went to Dr. Lavendar's church—" +</P> + +<P> +"Good gracious!" said William King. +</P> + +<P> +"They were not enough. So I used a charm. I made a drink—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said the doctor, frowning. "What was in the drink, Miss Philly?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps it was not the right herb," she said; "it may have been +'mother-wort'; but the book said 'monk's-hood,' and I—" +</P> + +<P> +William King reached for his whip and cut Jinny across the flanks. +"ACONITE!" he said under his breath, while Jinny leaped forward in +shocked astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"Will he live?" said Philippa. Dr. King, flecking Jinny again, and +letting his reins hang over the dashboard, could not help putting a +comforting arm around her. "I hope so," he said; "I hope so!" After +all, there was no use telling the child that probably by this time her +lover was either dead or getting better. "It's his own fault," William +King thought, angrily. "Why in thunder didn't he fall in love like a +man, instead of making the child resort to—G'on, Jinny! G'on!" He +still had the whip in his hand when they drew up at the gate. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<P> +When Philippa Roberts had fled out into the night for help, her father +and old Hannah were too alarmed to notice her absence. They went +hurrying back and forth with this remedy and that. Again and again +they were ready to give up; once Henry Roberts said, "He is gone!" and +once Hannah began to cry, and said, "Poor lad, poor boy!" Yet each +made one more effort, their shadows looming gigantic against the walls +or stretching across the ceiling, bending and sinking as they knelt +beside the poor young man, who by that time was beyond speech. So the +struggle went on. But little by little life began to gain. John +Fenn's eyes opened. Then he smiled. Then he said something-they could +not hear what. +</P> + +<P> +"Bless the Lord!" said Henry Roberts. +</P> + +<P> +"He's asking for Philly," said old Hannah. By the time the doctor and +Philippa reached the house the shadow of death had lifted. +</P> + +<P> +"It must have been poison," Mr. Roberts told the doctor. "When he gets +over it he will tell us what it was." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe he will," said William King; he was holding Fenn's +wrist between his firm fingers, and then he turned up a fluttering +eyelid and looked at the still dulled eye. +</P> + +<P> +Philippa, kneeling on the other side of John Fenn, said loudly: "I +will tell HIM—and perhaps God will forgive me." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor, glancing up at her, said: "No, you won't—anyhow at +present. Take that child up-stairs, Hannah," he commanded, "and put her +to bed. She ran all the way to Old Chester to get me," he explained to +Henry Roberts. +</P> + +<P> +Before he left the house that night he sat for a few minutes at +Philippa's bedside. "My dear little girl," he said, in his kind, +sensible voice, "the best thing to do is to forget it. It was a +foolish thing to do—that charm business; but happily no harm is done. +Now say nothing about it, and never do it again." +</P> + +<P> +Philippa turned her shuddering face away. "Do it again? OH!" +</P> + +<P> +As William King went home he apologized to Jinny for that cut across +her flanks by hanging the reins on the overhead hook, and letting her +plod along at her own pleasure. He was saying to himself that he hoped +he had done right to tell the child to hold her tongue. "It was just +tomfoolery," he argued; "there was no sin about it, so confession +wouldn't do her any good; on the contrary, it would hurt a girl's +self-respect to have a man know she had tried to catch him. But what a +donkey he was not to see.... Oh yes; I'm sure I'm right," said William +King. "I wonder how Dr. Lavendar would look at it?" +</P> + +<P> +Philippa, at any rate, was satisfied with his advice. Perhaps the +story of what she had done might have broken from her pale lips had her +father asked any questions; but Henry Roberts had retreated into +troubled silence. There had been one wonderful moment when he thought +that at last his faith was to be justified and by the unbeliever +himself! and he had cried out, with a passion deferred for more than +thirty years: "The VOICE!" But behold, the voice, babbling and +meaningless, was nothing but sickness. No one could guess what the +shock of that disappointment was. He was not able even to speak of it. +So Philippa was asked no awkward questions, and her self-knowledge +burned deep into her heart. +</P> + +<P> +In the next few days, while the minister was slowly recovering in the +great four-poster in Henry Roberts's guest-room, she listened to +Hannah's speculations as to the cause of his attack, and expressed no +opinion. She was dumb when John Fenn tried to tell her how grateful he +was to her for that terrible run through the darkness for his sake. +</P> + +<P> +"You should not be grateful," she said, at last, in a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +But he was grateful; and, furthermore, he was very happy in those days +of slow recovery. The fact was that that night, when he had been so +near death, he had heard Philippa, in his first dim moments of +returning consciousness, stammering out those distracted words: +"Perhaps God will forgive me." To John Fenn those words meant the +crowning of all his efforts: she had repented! +</P> + +<P> +"Truly," he said, lying very white and feeble on his pillow and looking +into Philly's face when she brought him his gruel, "truly, +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "He moves in a mysterious way<BR> + His wonders to perform!"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +The "mysterious way" was the befalling of that terrible illness in +Henry Roberts's house, so that Philippa should be impressed by it. "If +my affliction has been blessed to any one else, I am glad to have +suffered it," he said. +</P> + +<P> +Philippa silently put a spoonful of gruel between his lips; he +swallowed it as quickly as he could. "I heard you call upon God for +forgiveness; the Lord is merciful and gracious!" +</P> + +<P> +Philly said, very low, "Yes; oh YES." So John Fenn thanked God and took +his gruel, and thought it was very good. He thought, also, that Miss +Philippa was very good to be so good to him. In those next few days, +before he was strong enough to be moved back to his own house, he +thought more of her goodness and less of her salvation. It was then +that he had his great moment, his revealing moment! All of a sudden, +at the touch of Life, his honest artificiality had dropped from him, +and he knew that he had never before known anything worth knowing! He +knew he was in love. He knew it when he realized that he was not in +the least troubled about her soul. "That is what she meant!" he +thought; "she wanted me to care for her, before I cared for her soul." +He was so simple in his acceptance of the revelation that she loved +him, that when he went to ask her to be his wife the blow of her reply +almost knocked him back into his ministerial affectations: +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +When John Fenn got home that evening he went into his study and shut +the door. Mary came and pounded on it, but he only said, in a muffled +voice: +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mary. Not now. Go away." +</P> + +<P> +He was praying for resignation to what he told himself was the will of +God. "The Lord is unwilling that my thoughts should be diverted from +His service by my own personal happiness." Then he tried to put his +thoughts on that service by deciding upon a text for his next sermon. +But the texts which suggested themselves were not steadying to his +bewildered mind: +</P> + +<P> +"LOVE ONE ANOTHER." ("I certainly thought she loved me.") +</P> + +<P> +"MARVEL NOT, MY BRETHREN, IF THE WORLD HATE YOU." ("I am, perhaps, +personally unattractive to her; and yet I wonder why?") He was not a +conceited man; but, like all his sex, he really did "marvel" a little +at the lack of feminine appreciation. He marveled so much that a week +later he took Mary and walked out to Mr. Roberts's house. This time +Mary, to her disgust, was left with Miss Philly's father, while her +brother and Miss Philly walked in the frosted garden. Later, when that +walk was over, and the little sister trudged along at John Fenn's side +in the direction of Perryville, she was very fretful because he would +not talk to her. He was occupied, poor boy, in trying again not to +"marvel," and to be submissive to the divine will. +</P> + +<P> +After that, for several months, he refused Mary's plea to be taken to +visit Miss Philly. He had, he told himself, "submitted"; but +submission left him very melancholy and solemn, and also a little +resentful; indeed, he was so low in his mind, that once he threw out a +bitter hint to Dr. Lavendar,—who, according to his wont, put two and +two together. +</P> + +<P> +"Men in our profession, sir," said John Fenn, "must not expect personal +happiness." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Dr. Lavendar, meditatively, "perhaps if we don't expect +it, the surprise of getting it makes it all the better. I expected it; +but I've exceeded my expectations!" +</P> + +<P> +"But you are not married," the young man said, impulsively. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Lavendar's face changed; "I hope you will marry, Fenn," he said, +quietly. At which John Fenn said, "I am married to my profession; that +is enough for any minister." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll find your profession a mighty poor housekeeper," said Dr. +Lavendar. +</P> + +<P> +It was shortly after this that Mr. Fenn and his big roan broke through +the snow-drifts and made their way to Henry Roberts's house. "I must +speak to you alone, sir," he said to the Irvingite, who, seeing him +approaching, had hastened to open the door for him and draw him in out +of the cold sunshine. +</P> + +<P> +What the caller had to say was brief and to the point: Why was his +daughter so unkind? John Fenn did not feel now that the world—which +meant Philippa—hated him. He felt—he could not help feeling—that +she did not even dislike him; "on the contrary...." So what reason had +she for refusing him? But old Mr. Roberts shook his head. "A young +female does not have 'reasons,'" he said. But he was sorry for the +youth, and he roused himself from his abstraction long enough to +question his girl: +</P> + +<P> +"He is a worthy young man, my Philippa. Why do you dislike him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not dislike him." +</P> + +<P> +"Then why—?" her father protested. +</P> + +<P> +But Philly was silent. +</P> + +<P> +Even Hannah came to the rescue: +</P> + +<P> +"You'll get a crooked stick at the end, if you don't look out!" +</P> + +<P> +Philly laughed; then her face fell. "I sha'n't have any stick, ever!" +</P> + +<P> +And Hannah, in her concern, confided her forebodings about the stick to +Dr. King. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder," William said to himself, uneasily, "if I was wise to tell +that child to hold her tongue? Perhaps they might have straightened it +out between 'em before this, if she had told him and been done with it. +I've a great mind to ask Dr. Lavendar." +</P> + +<P> +He did ask him; at first with proper precautions not to betray a +patient's confidence, but, at a word from Dr. Lavendar, tumbling into +truthfulness. +</P> + +<P> +"You are talking about young Philippa Roberts?" Dr. Lavendar announced, +calmly, when William was half-way through his story of concealed +identities. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you guess it?" the doctor said, astonished; "oh, well, yes, I +am. I guess there's no harm telling you—" "Not the slightest," said +Dr. Lavendar, "especially as I knew it already from the young man—I +mean, I knew she wouldn't have him. But I didn't know why until your +story dovetailed with his. William, the thing has festered in her! +The lancet ought to have been used the next day. I believe she'd have +been married by this time if she'd spoken out, then and there." +</P> + +<P> +William King was much chagrined. "I thought, being a girl, you know, +her pride, her self-respect—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes; the lancet hurts," Dr. Lavendar admitted; "but it's better +than—well, I don't know the terms of your trade, Willy-but I guess you +know what I mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess I do," said William King, thoughtfully. "Do you suppose it's +too late now?" +</P> + +<P> +"It will be more of an operation," Dr. Lavendar conceded. +</P> + +<P> +"Could I tell him?" William said, after a while. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see why not," Dr. Lavendar said. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose I'd have to ask her permission?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense!" said Dr. Lavendar. +</P> + +<P> +That talk between the physician of the soul and the physician of the +body happened on the very night when John Fenn, in his study in +Perryville, with Mary dozing on his knee, threw over, once and for all, +what he had called "submission" and made up his mind to get his girl! +The very next morning he girded himself and walked forth upon the Pike +toward Henry Roberts's house. He did not take Mary with him,—but not +because he meant to urge salvation on Miss Philly! As it happened, Dr. +King, too, set out upon the Perryville road that morning, remarking to +Jinny that if he had had his wits about him that night in November, she +would have been saved the trip on this May morning. The trip was easy +enough; William had found a medical pamphlet among his mail, and he was +reading it, with the reins hanging from the crook of his elbow. It was +owing to this method of driving that John Fenn reached the Roberts +house before Jinny passed it, so she went all the way to Perryville, +and then had to turn round to follow on his track. +</P> + +<P> +"Brother went to see Miss Philly, and he wouldn't take me," Mary +complained to William King, when he drew up at the minister's door; and +the doctor was sympathetic to the extent of five cents for candy +comfort. +</P> + +<P> +But when Jinny reached the Roberts gate Dr. King saw John Fenn down in +the garden with Philippa. "Ho-ho!" said William. "I guess I'll wait +and see if he works out his own salvation." He hitched Jinny, and went +in to find Philippa's father, and to him he freed his mind. The two +men sat on the porch looking down over the tops of the lilac-bushes +into the garden, where they could just see the heads of the two young, +unhappy people. +</P> + +<P> +"It's nonsense, you know," said William King, "that Philly doesn't take +that boy. He's head over heels in love with her." +</P> + +<P> +"She is not attached to him in any such manner," Henry Roberts said; "I +wonder a little at it, myself. He is a good youth." +</P> + +<P> +The doctor looked at him wonderingly; it occurred to him that if he had +a daughter he would understand her better than Philly's father +understood her. "I think the child cares for him," he said; then, +hesitatingly, he referred to John Fenn's sickness. "I suppose you know +about it?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +Philly's father bent his head; he knew, he thought, only too well; no +divine revelation in a disordered digestion! +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think," William King said, smiling, "you might try to make +her feel that she is wrong not to accept him, now that the charm has +worked, so to speak?" +</P> + +<P> +"The charm?" the old man repeated, vaguely. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you understood," the doctor said, frowning; then, after a +minute's hesitation, he told him the facts. +</P> + +<P> +Henry Roberts stared at him, shocked and silent; his girl, his +Philippa, to have done such a thing! "So great a sin—my little +Philly!" he said, faintly. He was pale with distress. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear sir," Dr. King protested, impatiently, "don't talk about SIN +in connection with that child. I wish I'd held my tongue!" +</P> + +<P> +Henry Roberts was silent. Philippa's share in John Fenn's mysterious +illness removed it still further from that revelation, waited for +during all these years with such passionate patience. He paid no +attention to William King's reassurances; and his silence was so +silencing that by and by the doctor stopped talking and looked down +into the garden again. He observed that those two heads had not drawn +any nearer together. It was not John Fenn's fault.... +</P> + +<P> +"There can be no good reason," he was saying to Philippa. "If it is a +bad reason, I will overcome it! Tell me why?" +</P> + +<P> +She put her hand up to her lips and trembled. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," he said; "it is my due, Philippa. I WILL know!" +</P> + +<P> +Philippa shook her head. He took her other hand and stroked it, as one +might stroke a child's hand to comfort and encourage it. +</P> + +<P> +"You must tell me, beloved," he said. Philippa looked at him with +scared eyes; then, suddenly pulling her hands from his and turning +away, she covered her face and burst into uncontrollable sobbing. He, +confounded and frightened, followed her and tried to soothe her. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind, Philly, never mind! if you don't want to tell me—" +</P> + +<P> +"I do want to tell you. I will tell you! You will despise me. But I +will tell you. I DID A WICKED DEED. It was this very plant-here, +where we stand, monk's-hood! It was poison. I didn't know—oh, I +didn't know. The book said monk's-hood—it was a mistake. But I did a +wicked deed. I tried to kill you—" +</P> + +<P> +She swayed as she spoke, and then seemed to sink down and down, until +she lay, a forlorn little heap, at his feet. For one dreadful moment +he thought she had lost her senses. He tried to lift her, saying, with +agitation: +</P> + +<P> +"Philly! We will not speak of it—" +</P> + +<P> +"I murdered you," she whispered. "I put the charm into your tea, to +make you... love me. You didn't die. But it was murder. I meant—I +meant no harm—" +</P> + +<P> +He understood. He lifted her up and held her in his arms. Up on the +porch William King saw that the two heads were close together! +</P> + +<P> +"Why!" the young man said. "Why—but Philly! You loved me!" +</P> + +<P> +"What difference does that make?" she said, heavily. +</P> + +<P> +"It makes much difference to me," he answered; he put his hand on her +soft hair and tried to press her head down again on his shoulder. But +she drew away. +</P> + +<P> +"No; no." +</P> + +<P> +"But—" he began. She interrupted him. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen," she said; and then, sometimes in a whisper, sometimes +breaking into a sob, she told him the story of that November night. He +could hardly hear it through. +</P> + +<P> +"Love, you loved me! You will marry me." +</P> + +<P> +"No; I am a wicked girl—a—a—an immodest girl—" +</P> + +<P> +"My beloved, you meant no wrong—" He paused, seeing that she was not +listening. +</P> + +<P> +Her father and the doctor were coming down the garden path; William +King, beaming with satisfaction at the proximity of those two heads, +had summoned Henry Roberts to "come along and give 'em your blessing!" +</P> + +<P> +But as he reached them, standing now apart, the doctor's smile +faded—evidently something had happened. John Fenn, tense with +distress, called to him with frowning command: "Doctor! Tell her, for +heaven's sake, tell her that it was nothing—that charm! Tell her she +did no wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"No one can do that," Henry Roberts said; "it was a sin." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, look here—" Dr. King began. +</P> + +<P> +"It was a sin to try to move by foolish arts the will of God." +</P> + +<P> +Philippa turned to the young man, standing quivering beside her. "You +see?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"No! No, I don't see—or if I do, never mind." +</P> + +<P> +Just for a moment her face cleared. (Yes, truly, he was not thinking of +her soul now!) But the gleam faded. "Oh, father, I am a great +sinner," she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"No, you're not!" William King said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my Philippa, you are," Henry Roberts agreed, solemnly. +</P> + +<P> +The lover made a despairing gesture: "Doctor King! tell her 'no!' 'no!'" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," her father went on, "it was a sin. Therefore, Philippa, SIN NO +MORE. Did you pray that this young man's love might be given to you?" +</P> + +<P> +Philippa said, in a whisper, "Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"And it was given to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Philippa, was it the foolish weed that moved him to love?" She was +silent. "My child, my Philly, it was your Saviour who moved the heart +of this youth, because you asked Him. Will you do such despite to your +Lord as to reject the gift he has given in answer to your prayer?" +Philippa, with parted lips, was listening intently: "The gift He had +given!" +</P> + +<P> +Dr. King dared not speak. John Fenn looked at him, and then at +Philippa, and trembled. Except for the sound of a bird stirring in its +nest overhead in the branches, a sunny stillness brooded over the +garden. Then, suddenly, the stillness was shattered by a strange +sound—a loud, cadenced chant, full of rhythmical repetitions. The +three who heard it thrilled from head to foot; Henry Roberts did not +seem to hear it: it came from his own lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Philippa! Oh, Philippa! I do require—I do require that you accept +your Saviour's gift. Add not sin to sin. Oh, add not sin to sin by +making prayer of no avail! Behold, He has set before thee an open +door. Oh, let no man shut it. Oh, let no man shut it...." +</P> + +<P> +The last word fell into a low, wailing note. No one spoke. The bird +rustled in the leaves above them; a butterfly wavered slowly down to +settle on a purple flag in the sunshine. Philly's eyes filled with +blessed tears. She stretched out her arms to her father and smiled. +But it was John Fenn who caught those slender, trembling arms against +his breast; and, looking over at the old man, he said, softly, "THE +VOICE OF GOD." +</P> + +<P> +... "and I," said William King, telling the story that night to Dr. +Lavendar—"I just wanted to say 'the voice of COMMON SENSE!'" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear William," said the old man, gently, "the most beautiful thing +in the world is the knowledge that comes to you, when you get to be as +old as I am, that they are the same thing." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Voice, by Margaret Deland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VOICE *** + +***** This file should be named 2387-h.htm or 2387-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/8/2387/ + +Produced by Judy Boss. 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