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COLTER '^ - ^ ^ \ Author of V^ "►SSSsjj.jj^ "Onb Quiet Life," " Robbie Meredith," "Mbdolink i Sblwvn's Work." " Milorbb Krnt's Hero." ^^ | flJ7 BOSTON D. LOTHROP COMPANY - WASHWGTON8STREBT OprOSITB BROMnCLD \ \ \ ■■"p*«a* (BHPWfUSHSWK" mmmmmmm^. CorVKIGHT, 189a, BV D, LoTHKOr COHPANV. ",, » ? If CONTENTS. CHAr. Vam I. Thi Pikes . . • • 9 II. Akobla. ...••• 29 III. A New Life Bbouk 43 IV. Angela's Tea Pabties . 61 V. Fbbtivai- Times . . . . 73 VI. Mks. Wilbur Moxton's Plans . 91 VII. A Passage at Abms 108 VIII. A SUBPBISE 114 IX. BOABDINQ-SCHOOL . . . . 133 X. SiSTBB DOBA . . . • • 144 XI. In the Slums . . . ♦ 168 XII. By THE Sea .... 178 XIII. Mabk and Lucy . . . 187 XIV. Besoued fbom the Slums . 206 XV. New Homes .... 285 XVI. The New David Gbant 249 XVII. Anothbb Journey of Mbbcy 258 XVIII. A Pbomise .... . 269 XIX. A Call 281 XX. An Unpaid Helpbb 292 XXI. A Pabtino . . • • 304 XXII. A Meeting . . • • 317 XXIIL The ENft., • . . • • 326 mKsmmammmmmm liSHRiliHmMH mimmtmmmammmmmmi L. t^ ■ , i .mJDJZ auiis ff ll .. Il .._l.xt lgll #,■" ■■noaniVMiE MHROTHMi A GENTLE BENEFACTRESS. CHAPTER I. TBK PINKH^ On a gently doping hill facing the west, stood a roomy, oldJaahioned house that had fronted the storms and sunshine for five and forty years. It was inclosed on every side, save a narrow space in front, by great pines that were them- selves a part of the forest primeval. Inside their shelter, and directly, around the house, was a strip of grass ground, whUe beyond them on the outside ky smooth, sloping meadows and grain fields, with pasture binds where cows and sheep were feeding ankle deep in grass and clover, for the "Pines" was a farm under an unusuaUy fine state of cultivation, having been. ?. t^'^^--^*-'^''-^*^ -^'^ wmmm 10 THK PINB8. intelligently managed for two genetationi.. The house was painted a soft tint of gray, that har- monized well with its green setting of grass and foliage, while all around were vines and sweet perfumed flowers that made it a haunt of bird and bee. At the left, as you stood in the door- way and jus^- within shelter of the towering pines, was' a fvuit orchard; apples, pears, apricots and plums, hung in rich abundance from the limbs, while here and there a cherry-tree stood shamefacedly amid the clustering richness of the golden autumn days, its own sweetness of fruitage a memory alone. On the other side of the house was a large gar- den where the smaUer fruits held riot from June till October. Gh-eat strawberry beds that har- monized so well with the meek-eyed Aldemeys and Jerseys that lay in the sunsnine on the other side of the pine-trees, chewing their cuds in drowsy content. At tea-time the strawberry beds and the Aldemeys would send in their offerings, makmg a combination the very immortals might deign to feast upon, if they visited our earth a^ m the chadhood of humanity, when the best the patn- archs had to offer them were veal and short OA.K68 The garden was roomy enough not only for •ROMMIMMNNMt THE PINKS. 11 the oarmine-tinted atrawberries and raspberries, but' for the green goosebemes and the varying tinted currants, the blackberry and all the vari- eties of vegetable that our rone produces for table use.' Long, neatly kept beds were ranged side by side with old-fashioned precision, and with their abundance of fruitage, in the eyes of the practical farmers, were quite as beautiful as the beds overflowing with flowers that lay nearer the house. The farmers around used to say that the things were so used to growing there, they didn't need much io«.>^'ing after, but the elderly man with iron gray hair and stooping shoulders, who had worked among them from early manhood, would have told you a di£ferent story. He was an authority on slugs and grubs and such insignificant creatures which are the torment of full-grown men who, like their forefather Adam, would till the ground and gather the fruits of their labors. The con- tent seemed an unequal and even ridiculous one; a six-foot man, with all his equipment of brain and physical strength, and an inch-long grub, ' without any brains to speak of and not a drop of genuine blood in his body ; but to his vexation and dismay, the full-grown man was often exas- . perated to find some^ pet specimen of plant that M.- he reckoned might not only garnish the dinner- table, but take a prize at the fair, cut off by' the toothless creature, and left lying ignominiously on the mould. David Wardell had hundreds of times seen his hopes thus defeated, and had waged such long and baf9ing warfare against the whole tribe of worms in general, that his thoughts had taken a melancholy cast, while his highest flights of fancy were m^re or less sobered by his tiny enemies. But he was something of a philoso- pher ; the long sunny hours spent among flowers and fruits the summer through, were fertile in suggestions to his mind ; the solitude gave him time for reflection, the tender ministries of nature appealed to his imagination, so that while he buried his seeds and afterward watched them develop into such varied and beautiful forms, he had liis own thoughts, mostly inarticulate, but with an underflow of beauty in them that often made his heart very glad, he scarce could ex- plain why. He had a wife, three boys and two girls, who were the special delight of his heart. Look- ing in their bright faces he could fancy himself back once more with his own brothers and sisters on the Scottish hills where his boyhood was spent. THE PINES. 18 Often wMe he waa busy thinking of those vanished years aad faces, he would break into singing some favorite psalm, making the illusion more com- plete. He was not much of a talker; probably for that reason his mind was more active ; but he was an unusually contented man, for his world was wide, and he went far afield on peaceful ex- cursions while his body was still in the old garden. He lived much more in the past than is usual with people in this busy age, and had therefore with him, about his daily tasks, the haunting presence of those who had long since forsaken the body, and were, for that very reason, nearer to him; their presence more vividly realized than if they still occupied a place on the earth. Dear hands often clasped his as he paused in his labors; voices low and sweet, which only his spirit could strain to hear, revealed to him thpughts of unut- terable love and sweetness from far-off realms which no living man has ever visited. He was in fairly comfortable circumatances— more so perhaps than many a millionaire ; his little mistress — for the owner of the Pines was scarcely more than a child — insisted on his making use of aU the fruits and vegetables his household might require trom her gardens free of charge; his wi

traits on the wall gazing down at her, and turned to lead the way into the library. all ph saj on( bei got pai the hou size nei anj < tint brc of wo wii nai eac th< an; is doJ THB PIHBB. B i a it h re »y re I »y ire lil- ho me led ; I not her M>r- aed ** You may oome here sometime when they are all away and look at everything a« long as you please. Lindsay don't like boys around — she says they are a nuisance ; but I don't think nice ones are." There was a curtained recess formed of a beautiful piece of tapestry made by some long gone ancestress of Angela's, which led from the parlor into the library. The two rooms occupied the whole of one side of the lower story of the house, making them, because of their unusual size, seem like a church to the boy who had never, with those deep, curious eyes of his, seen anything like it before. ** These are the books. It will take us a long time to go over them. If yon were only my brother or cousin now you could have the most of them." She spoke regretfully; plainly she would have felt it a relief to share her belongings with this penniless lad. " I wonder what the name of the book will be. Papa always kept each kind of books by themselves ; we can skip theology and poetry, for they can't possibly have anything to do with bugs and such things. Now is there anything else we might skip? " she asked doubtfully. Certainly there^ is ;^ history and astronomy . • » 24 THE PINES. and everything in graminwr and arithmetio," Donald said encouragingly, his eyei roeanwhil* devouring the great loadetl book ahelvee. *' Dear me I what a tiresome world it is ; one can never get to the end of learning. Do you like to study ? " Angela asked. «' Yes, if I could study the right kind of things ; but they make you keep going over what has no sense in it so much of the time, and what you would lik(^ best to be learning about they never teach you at all." ** I don't care much to learn about anything. I like to feed animals and make folks happy, especially children; and I like to visit poor people and take them nice things to eat ; but there are so few around here. I think it is a great waste of time to make all of us study ; now I would be satisfied to know how to read and write and do my own accounts, and have enough geog- raphy and grammar to do me nicely ; but I would never touch music, or painting, or the languages only my own, and those tiresome sciences ; but they teU me I must do them be- cause of my position ; and so I sit moping in the schoolroom with my governess when I would be so much better out of doors helping things and people to be happy." She sighed wearily ; bow B9a THK PINM. 35 happy ahe might have been — according to her own Tiew of life — in one of thoie isUntls lying amid the summer seaa, where the children have no knowledge of the torturing pains that growth of knowledge caiuet. «' If the teacher waa any good I wonld rather go to school than do anything ; but our teacher it a girl, and she don't know much more than a cow about what is worth knowing, except a little book knowledge, like arithm«)tio and grammar. Why, she screamed when I showed her a great beauty of a beetle, and scolded me for bringing it to school in my pocket. What's the good of such women to teach boys I " ' ** I don't like beetles either," Angela said. *«Not the great striped ones an inch long?" Donald asked incredulously. *♦ Well, no ; the bigger they are the more nasty they seem." " I guess girls never amount to much ; they are only good to look at." Donald gazed with a mixture of admiration and contempt at his girl friend as he spoke, meanwhile wondering, no doubt, why the Lord made them so simple, and yet so beautiful, for Angela was certainly a very fair specimen of girlhood. , , -'¥' A ■ c*. THE PINKS. ' They are made for a great deal more than to be looked at. I don't think you would be much if it hadn't been for your mother, and she grew out of a girl — women are just girls ripened." Angela began her defense angrily, but her sunny temper gained the mastery, and her sentence ended with a smile. " We won't argue ab^mt it any longer, but look instead for your book. Lindsay may be in presently, and she thinks boys are not much." " Why don't you g?t a better-natured woman ? " " Papa told me always to keep Lindsay. She was housekeeper here before' my mamma came. I am the only baby she ever hat ^ her own." " You weren't her baby." " Yes ; she took care of me ever since I was born. My mamma never saw me, and I never saw her — only her picture. Won't you come and see it? you will think she was good for something." " Yes ; if you want me to I will look at her ; but I don't care much for womenkind, they are frightened of everything." " I am not easily frightened." ♦' Will you come with me some day and watch the bugs?" Donald asked eagerly. " Yes ; if you want me to very much.' A iSsi-f S I ^c^ THE PIKB8. 27 She spoke heeitatinglj. « You will be sure to like it if onoe you got to know them ; no one seems to understand about them, and I'd be gM if you would." " I will try," she said faintly. They had re-entered the parlor, and were stand- ing before a massive gilt frame that inclosed a face and form beautiful enough to have responded to an angel's name. ♦' That is my mother." Donald stood silently looking at the picture after Angela had spoken. New thoughts were working swiftly in his keen brain. It was a revelation to him — this sweet vision of woman- hood which the artist had caught and idealized. "I did not know flesh and bones could be made up to look like that; your father must have felt awfully to have her go away from him forever." " It was only for ten years, then he followed her. Just when he was between the two worlds he looked up so brightly ; as if he saw something that made him so glad ; and then he said, ' Angela my wife.' My parents were both the real sort of Christians, so Lindsay says, that one never has any doubts about.' Donald turned abruptly away. Angeb chanced « \ 28 to look at him after the book hunting had begun, and saw tears in his eyes. From that moment a new bond of union sprang up between ihem. The search for the book after that went on diligently, but it failed to turn up ; at nightfall they ceased, but Angela invited him to come the next day, which he promised to do, and then he went away with a world of new thoughts in his heart. iiii.Tli n- «i gria ':.. .' CHAPTER II. ANOELA. The book so greatly desired by the boj natn- ralist was certainly on those shelves, and not one book alone, but several; while near whero he stood during part of his search, was a cabinet that would have thrilled his soul much as a splen- did painting or sublime harmony might have done the boyish hearts of Raphael or Beethoven. Angela's grandfather had been a dilettante in several thingps, bugs and insects being one of his amusements. He had found in his own searches in many climes some nne specimens; others he had secured in other ways, but a specimen once procured had never been lost, and that sunny summer afternoon when the boy and girl stood in the cool, shaded room, those hundreds of creeping things looked just as fresh and' well preserved as they did seventy years before, so long outlasting the hands that imprisoned them. ;1ii 80 ANQBLA. But neither Donald nor Angela was aware of what that ebony cabinet contained; the key of it was one of many on a ring that lay in a secret drawer of her father's desk, and she was pos- sessed uf such an incurious nature respecting the treasures of a past generation that she had never turned a single key ; indeed she shrank from ex- huming these locked-up relics of the past ; prob- ably a general destruction by fire of the entire house would have been something of relief to her. The twilight was filling the room with shadows the second day, and Donald's courage was be- ginning to fail along with Angela's patience, for she found it very tiresome going over the long names on the backs of the books, while she was too tender-hearted to leave the lad alone in that room so full to her of haunting shadows ; at the same time she kept wearily speculating upon what could have possessed so many people in other days to waste so much good time in bookwriting. She had come herself of a scholarly, cultured race, but somehow her little personality had been caught in the rebound, and by some means or other she was free from the slightest morbid taint of literary ambition. To be amid the activities of life, cheering the sorrowful and mak- s . ife.- ing still happier the glad-hearted, was her delight ; while she scarcely gave a thought as to whether she would be remembered a month or ten cent- uries after her eyes dosed eternally on earthly things. To make the very best of each passing day, without worrying about the future or regretting the deeds of the past, was her instinctive habit. Whether this was a desirable frame of mind to possess each one must decide for himself. An exclamation of passionate delight from Donald startled her. *«What is it?" she asked, hastening to his side. " Just look at these beauties I " The boy had carried the book to the deep window seat, and was bending over it with dilating eyes. " I did not know there were such glorious creatures ia the world," he cried. Angela stooped down to gain a better look, but turned away with an exclamation of disgust. " Do you call those dreadful things glorious ? " she asked. " They are perfectly — hideous." She hesitated a moment b^ore finishing the sentence ; Donald was so charmed with his discovery she hardly liked to criticise the creatures too severely, but he was too much absorbed in them to heed her criticisms. — ' ■ JTCj i ). i MW'g g r>^eil ' * J g- '»' ?iiW ' J '' -"j 'l'* ' ';!idi>'i«i^Mi*iiSw»ii"i*'^"'*fe*-'jwJ"iJi"i«"Ji" 82 ANGELA. He turned back preaently to the shelf. •• This b the third volume; there must be otheni here." " What can they have found in those crawling things to write three great books about?*' she asked half-angrily. The library was growing so dutAcy in the more distant spaces that Angela was getting slightly nervous there alone with Donald. He soon found the missing volumes, and glancing rue- fully at the handsome binding he said anxiously : " Should you care if I took all three of them ? I don't know how I could wait till to-morrow afternoon to see them all." "Why, certainly you can take them all; I think you have earned them pretty dearly. I will go with you and carry one of them until we get out of sight of the house. If Lindsay saw you she might take two of them ; she is so care- ful of everything papa left me." Donald sped down the meadow path so swiftly Angela found some difficulty in keeping pace with him. " Your lameness doesn't hinder you getting over the ground pretty fast," she panted at last, considerably out of breath. "Oh! my lameness doesn't amount to any- thing. One leg is just a little shorter than the other, that's alL" # '^; ▲KOBLA. 'OW ftly lace you ited my. the He spoke with a sublime iadifference about his misfortune. A few inches more or less of bone and tissue were hardly worth mention, ing when he had those three volumes in his possession. " Your father, though, is very sorry about it. He was going to make you a scholar and preacher if it hadn't been'for that." " He make me a preacher," he echoed indig- nantly ; « it is only the Lord who can do that I would never be a man-made preacher; I'd be a tailor first, and sit on a bench and sew, like a woman." "Your father told me he was going to appren- tice you to a tailor. He says it is a very good way to make a living, and tailors sometimes get rich." " I don't want to be rich; I mean to study all my life, and find out about things. I can build a cabin in the woods, and raise what I i^uit to eat ; no man shall make me a tailor." " Perhaps if I talk to your father he won't in- sist on it ; he generally does things I want him to." Angela tried to speak ccmsolingly. " You only ask him to uo things for you, and it is his duty to please you, but this is different." " You shall not be a ^ailoj, and if you want to '"sm«mia«Mp'i|«vu««i ^NUHHiiuwiWfil w 1 1 J ia L 84 ANGELA. yoa may study all your life." She spoke with a vehemence unusual to her. Through his un- covered soul she had caught a glimpse of such dismay and grief mirrored in those deep, hasel eyes, that all her oombativeness was roused, and for the first time in her life she realised how grand it was to have power. ^ If Donald loved books as well as she loved sunshine and compan- ionship of birds and flowers and human beings, how cruel it would be to force him. away from these just to make money, especially when he was content to live so simply in a little republic of his own, liKb those grand old heathen that she had been compelled to study about. Maybe some day in the far, lonely future, children at school might be studying about Donald. A new thought came : Mightn't it be an act of cruelty to add anything further to the burdens already awaiting those unborn children, since there were already entirely too many things for them to learn about? She thought the matter over as they stood leaning against the fence. " Should you be likely to write books if you get the chance to study ? " she asked anxiously. "I might. One never knows what thoughts may come to them when they give themselves up entirely to thinkirg." ASQKLA. u with ** I think there are plenty of books now, nnd it seems a great pity to have many more great men for poor children to have to study about. In a thousand years more if people keep on be- ing celebrated it will be just too dreadful for them. I am very glad I have been sent here so soon. I would, if I oould have had my choice, have come about four thousand years ago. It must have been lovely then for children, for they lived out of doors most of the time, and I can't seem to find out much about girls going to school in those days." " But if your mind was full of thoughts, and some of them which no one had eves thought of before shouldn't you want to keep them in the world?" " I am never troubled with such thoughts, and I think there are a great plenty of written thoughts already ; but, Donald, I will help ybu. I shall be a woman before your books get written, so I won't have to read them; and the children in those times must just look out for themselves." With this comforting promise Angela gave Donald the book and said good-night. He rushed home, and with a sigh of satisfaction that an aged Sybarite might envy, sat down by the evening lamp, and in the few short moments • • • .. : I' 86 ANOSLA. before bedtime came, learned more than many a boy of his ag«. *bo»e heart wa« not in the vork, would have done in a month. Angela kept her promise, and the following morning while the dew lay sparkling on blade and leaf, she picked her way carefully along the path that led to the garden, and going to David opened out on the subject with charming direct- ness. Her father had trained her to a transpar- ent openness of character, so that it was simply impossible for her to go about anything in an indirect way. " I want you to let Donald be a student. You must never ask him to be a tailor." There was an unconscious imperiousness about her speech that nettled the elderly man whom she addressed. «'You must remember, Miss Angela, that Donald belongs to me. Your authority over me ends at your -gate." " But, Warden, don't I belong to you, too ? " she pleaded, all her natural softness of manner coming back to her. " You have always called me your little maid." " Well, yes ; especially since your father died yon have seemed as near to me, I believe, as one of my own ; at least I would defend your life or character the same as my own." Ho was not ■'^'. AMOBLA. 87 proof against her blandishmento ; in fact few were. " And you know I am ju«t a» much interested in your getting on well as if you were my own father." ♦* I know that you are as kind to me as if you were my child." His votoe grew husky, for this strong, grare man loved the bright-haired, gentle girl deeply. ♦•I have been told that I am rich — hare a great many thousands of dollars laid away against I come of age ; now I want to educate Donald. I don't like studying one bit; I haven't very many brains I guess, so it is not worth my while trying to be great when it is not in me to be, and if you would give me Donald, why, he could study for both of us ; and you have no idea what a relief it would be to me. He can come every day and study with me now. I heard teacher say the other day she was just rusting out for something to do, and she is a. very fine scholar — knows as much as a man." There was no resisting the pleading eloquence in those lovely eyes that looked like tiny bits of the blue sky just rain washed and perfectly rlaar and pure. David worked away vigoroosly. Angek noticed that he was destroying other • . • f f J^ M«a^ M 88 AKOBLA. thing* than the weeds with bin hoe, bat he main" tainod an oniinouH silence. " Then you won't do it for me ? " She tpoke •orrowfuUy. When, to her vast surprise, she saw a teardrop come pattering down on a turnip leaf, it gave her great encouragement, and she •tood very patiently waiting further developments. He cleared his throat rather tremulously at last, and turning his face persistently in an opposite direction, he said : " What will Longhurst people lay if I let you help us — I mean if we let Donald come to school with you ? If he is to be a scholar he must work his own way up with what I can do for him." " Papa never cared very much for Longhurst, and we don't really live there. Longhurst is half a mile from our gate." She gave a little cough. «• My feet are damp, and I must not stay here much longer. Say you will let Donald come, and I will go right down ani H him to come to school to>-day." " Wait for another day ; I must think it over. You do not understand, my child ; one must not do anything that means the changing of an entire life at a few moments' notice." '''■ But when the change is a wise one it is right. To-morrow you will let Donald come ? " f. AKOBLA. OT "To-morrow ia 8»tard»y; from wluU lie is flndin}( in tho«) books I doubt if lie won't be spending the hours from dawn to sundown in the woods. He was up and away by four this morn- ing, and he hadn't oome to his breakfast when I left" M And yon would make that boy a tailor? fie on you I as Lindsay says to me when I urn naughty. I believe grown-up people aro just as willful as children." With which rebellious re- mark Angela left Wardell to his own reflections. But they were not painful ones. The vista Angela had unconsciously opened to him that morning led out farther than any horisons our earth embraces. Long ago he had had his own thoughts about Donald's strange fancies ; neither was he so ab- sorbed in divinity or history as to be ignorant of the fact that many a lad no higher in the social scale than a gardener's son h^d come to take rank among the high priests of literaturo and science, winning a name far outshining the princelings of their time ; what if sotae such fate awaited his own little lad? His heart gave a great throb, and for a few seconds he stood looking up into the deep blue of the summer's sky. God might accept die hd he had so longed to wmseorate to • t • • » ( .■\ t-fl*; 40 ANGELA. him for other service than that of preaching to men and women ; there might he other work he wanted the kd to do. Some day if Donald was permitted to take his own way in the special work for which he had such a passionate love, he might go farther into God's thoughts in that one branch of creation than any one who had preceded him ; some day in the far future, when he himself had finished the life work with which he had been entrusted, around other cottage firesides the story of Donald's discoveries might be repeated, his struggles and triumphs — the father's name, too, not forgotten, for men like to know some- thing of the fathers of their great ones. David, like most, had the desire strong within him to be remembered on earth long after he had ascended to higher scenes and employments. Hf worked that day in a dream, pitying the self of yesterday which had not known the possi- bilities awaiting his boy, but he held himself resolutely to the duty of the hour, and not till he heard the summons of the dinner horn from his own doorway, floating unmusically up through the fragrant air, did he lay down his hoe and make the possibility an assured fact by going directly to Angela and accepting her generous offer. He was hoping to find her out in the rose :ij;ai3rf«a(KW . \^.:^: ANGELA. 41 garden — one of her favorito haunts — so that he would not need to ask for an interview alone, or else speak before Lindsay, but Angela being herself in a somewhat anxious state of mind, had got excused from school earlier than usual, and was hovering around outdoors waiting to way- lay him. She heard him coming, and concealing her- self behind a great rose bush lest he might take another course in order to avoid her, she waited until he was just beside her. The look of satisfaction on his face when she stepped out and confronted him was reassuring. "Have you been thinking any more about Donald? " she asked anxiously. " I have thought of nothing else since you left She interrupted him, afraid to hear what the outcome of so much thinking might be, and anxious to intercede still further, but she had scarcely begun to speak when he went on with a solemnity of manner that was a trifle alarming. "I believe. Miss Angela, the good God put that thought into your heart. It has seemed to me for a good while that you lived nearer to the angels and the King himself, than most of us." " Then you are going to let Donald be a natu- * ;*:,. "V :* s^ ■ 42 ANGELA. ralist ? Miss Buckingham says that is probably what he will be." " I will let him be just what the Lord wants to make him. Maybe he will be as good as a preacher some day. I have always wanted a sou to stand in the pulpit and speak the thoughts that were too deep for me to utter — to be a grand minister that men would listen to with reverence, and flock to hear." '« I think probably the Lord was not certain but you might be vain of such a son ; you know he abhors the prond heart as well as the proud look." David regarded her almost reverently, and then turning away murmured softly, "A little child shall lead them." AngeU followed him. «' Won't you let me teU Donald first?" she asked. *'I like to see the light come into his eyes when he is very glad." " Yes ; you may toll him," was the low-spokeo answer. #' ^ ^^lw»LlJ^^lJ^l^i^ ■ | » ^ a (Jw^ i »»j^l ^yte,lj^,^ CHAPTER m. A MKW LIFS BEGUN. I I Ths hoors wore slowly away that afternoon to Angela. It was a genuine pleasure to her to go down to the Wardells' cottage at any time. There was a homeliness about the bright, dean rooms that she fancied did not exist to the same degree anywhere else upon earth, and an hour spent there left her both glad and sad. She would very cheerfully have exchanged her own large, richly furnished abode, so melancholy and lonely as it was, for this crowded but happy home, and if she had been of a philosophic turn of mind she would no doubt have questioned the wisdom of going there at all, since a viut al- ways left her somewhat sad-hearted as she wended her way homeward. Lindsay would have rejoiced at anything destroying the charm that small houra i held for her beloved obild, while she laid eyer^ possible objection in the way of her going there, *9 ^1 44 A NEW LIFE BEGUN. but Angela was clever at contriving errandn, and the grim housekeeper loved the girl so well she could not find it in her heart to refuse her request occasionally. After the invitation for Donald to come to school had been given and accepted, Angela be- thought herself it might be necessary to secure her teacher's consent to the arrangement, and all that afternoon while her thoughts should have been intent on her lessons they were really trying to frame a suitable way to proffer her request ; but she was not an adept at framing petitioning sentences, so that when the last moment came she was no nearer the solution of her difficult task than at noontime. " You have been very inattentive to your les- sons to-day, Angela," was the teacher's reproof when school hours were endod. '' I am beginning to think it is not right for me to spend my time over such an indifferent student." Angela's face lighted up suddenly. " I am so glad to hear you say so," she replied, " for I want Donald Wardell to come to school to you; he is going i/> be a great man some day, and you won't feel any more as if you were wast- ing your time." " Who says he is to come here? " •^limmmmmtitflgft:- :*.,- HBW LUTE BSGUK. 46 ** No one has said bo but myaelf . Yoa will be willing if I promise to study a great deal harder ; please let me tell him to eome." "But, my child, what will people say? he is merely a farm lad — just a oommpn boy." " No, indeed ; he is very uncommon. There is not such another boy In Longhurst — not very many, I think, in the world ; for God don't mah» many of that kind." Miss Buckingham smiled. "If all the world were like you it would be a more comfortable place for the ones who have brains ; they seem to be your aristocracy." "Then you will let me tell him to come ; I am sure I can learn better if there is novae one study* Ing with me" she pleaded. " I shall be very glad to have any one study with you if it will only waken you up." " I am wide awake all the time," said Angela, " but yon know there is not a great deal in me to get wakened. It is no use tor me to study a great deal since I cannot make a great scholar. I just want to b<^ happy and make otherb happy ; that is all the luission I have to perform." "I have grave doubts about that, Angela," said the teacher. "You have more original thoughts than almost any one I know. Such 46 A NEW LIFE BEGUK. thoughts do not usually accompany lack of brain power. If you would only txy, I belioTe you would surprise us all." *' Perhaps I will when Donald comes. I am going down there now, and won't you please to tell Lindsay what we are going to do? " tt May I put all the blame on you then ? " " Yes ; and won't you please tell her at once ? I will stay a while with Mrs. Wardell, and when I come back the worst of her temper will be over — it generally works off in an hour or two." Angela did not wait for a reply. She went first to the garden for the floVers, for it was a custom with her never to go among her friends without bringing an offering of some sort by way of insuring a welcome — perhaps it was, however, that her nature was so large and generous it pained her not to have something to bestow when she went among her friends. She walked along slowly ; she was not anxious to return until Lindsay's temper had got done fermenting, and it was just possible she might not find Donald at home, since his excursions seemed to have taken wider ranges of late. Her heart was unusually light as she made her way slowly through budding leaves and flowers, the westering sun shedding his glory over alL A KBW LIFE BEGUN. 47 I "What a nice world it is," she marmared, pausing to look over the fair landscape stretching beyond her. " What a pity one has to die and leare it all." Standing there in the midsummer sunshine she shivered, as if suddenly a blast from winter had swept up from Antarctic wastes, for suddenly the thought oi her own father and the fair-faced mother lyin^ under the mould, came to her. She stood meditatively by the gate looking down at the ground; to think that one day her own soft white flesh should mingle with that, become a part of it, seemed too dreadful. <« I wonder what has made me think of such things when I was so happy? "she said aloud, and mentally shaking herself for such folly ; she raised her head, her eyes falling for an instant on the rich coloring and satin petals of the per- fumed flowers in her hands. *« They came from the ground ; some day I will come- from it too, and be so beautiful." She paused, arrested by a new, thrilling thought, while her eyes were lifted higher — even to the far, delicious blue of the arching heavens above her. « I forgot the resur- rection and Heaven and God. I will be one of Christ'b own little ones." She stood gaating up solemnly, perhaps never -"m- '■" 48 A NEW LIFE BEGUN. before realizing as at that moment, how real Heaven is, and God and all the great life, throb- bing, pulsating with bliss beyond that blue vault. " I will just give myself to the Lord now," she continued. "I promised my father that I would be good and seek the Lord, and I have not done it yet. I never realized before how I was to do it." She knelt down, still clasping the flowers, and lifting the sweet, pure face to Ood, made her act of consecration. When at last she arose from her knees Fra Angelico might have copied her face for one of his angels. She Vent on her way feeling so glad in the thought that now she be- longed to the Lo-i*d, and feeling too that she must go softly on her way throngh life as became one of Christ's little ones. Arrived at the cottage she gave her flowers to Ag^es, who had seen her coming and was waiting for her at the door. When she entered the house she foiind Mrs. Wardell sitting at her sewing in the spotless kitchen. She was one of those per- fect housekeepers that never permitted things to get into disorder, no matter what the emergency, and Angela, who was keenly sensitive to all subtle influences, fairly reveled in the home comfort and cleanliness of that tiny cottage. 'Si A KETT LnrB BEOUK. 49 " I oame to aee Donald," were her first words. She then hastened to expU^in her errand. A joy needlessly withheld was merely defrauding the person to whom by right it belonged of that amount of pleasure for the time being, and life is so brief, and joy so limited it is cruel to oheat any one of their rightful share of it. " He is beyond, in the keeping-room, studying the books yon loaned him ; the lad is fair daft about wee, creeping things." The mother spoke fretfully. She was a large* hearted ifoman, possessed of a vigorous but un- trained intellect, and was willing that her children should have their hobbies, but this one of Donald's was so ridiculous she could see no sense whatever in permitting him indulgence in it. "Miss Buckingham thinks he may become a great naturalist," speaking proudly, but Mrs. Wardell was not versed in scientific phraseology. *' He seems to be that now ; only that I know the lad is not deficient in wit t'd be as frightened a.'d sure of it as your teacher." ** I^ut a naturalist is a man who studies about the thii.<^ that Donald is so interested in; I hunted th<> word up in the dictionary." " May be so ; but in Scotland we used to call a daft person a naturaL" i^^^^^„^t^ad i^^^^M ^SM 60 A NEW LIPB BKOtJH. « I expect he will write book* some day, about bugs and 8uoh small animals ; you will be proud of him then." »» I doubt if any one would buy his books — most folks get more of bugs than they want with- out liaving tu read about them." "I cannot explain to you, but I feel sure Donald is going to be somebody in particular," Angela said stoutly, while she closed the argu- ment by going into the keeping-room and closing the door behind her. All her sympathies were aroused for the boy who received so little of that soothing article in his own home. He did not notice her entrance. On the table before him he had some large, unhappy-looking creatures pinned securely to a bit of shingle, and was apparently absorbed in studying their char- acteristics; the book was open at Lis side, and excellent likenesses of the same creeping things adorned its pages. "O, Donald 1 what have you there?" Angela asked, with a shudder. He turned to her with an abstracted air. " I found them in the Giffen swamp to-day ; are they not beauties ? " "Did you walk all the way there and back?" she asked, with amazement. A KXW LIFB BSOtTV. 61 ** Pretty nearly all tlis way ; I gvit a ride for a mile or so," he answered indifferently. ** Why, it mutt have been a doiien miles there and back." ** Yes ; but what does that matter when I got these?" ** Are they any good ? " " Good I I should say they were. I mean to know all about them before I am done with them. This book don't just tell the truth, I am thinking, but then, I don't know anything of Latin, aiid that may be what deceives me. There is some of that ntnff here. One thing, if I ever did write a book it should all be in the same language." He sighed heavily. *' I have been studying Latin for more than a year ; perhaps I could tell you what it means." He pointed out the place hopefully, but, alas, she could only translate a few of the easy words, leaving him as much mystified as ever. ** Never mind, Donald ; you are to come to the Fines on Monday, to study with me. I g^t your father's consent first, and then Miss Bucking- ham's, so now you are on the road to be a great man." ** I don't want to be a great man, they , ore so 68 A KBW UFB BEGUN. bothered with people lunning after them, and then they have other worries that don't pay. All I want is plenty of books and a house to keep them in, away in the womls where I would never be interrupted, and could find speoimens." " You would need to do something to earn money ; one can't do without victuals and clothes." " I could hire out for a few days now and then, and earn what little money I would need." "You would never do any good to anybody just living that v;ay." *'But I would study about these all the time.; you have no idea how much there is to learn." " You do not seem a bit glad about coming to school," Angela said sorrowfully. " But I am glad ; more so than I can toll you ; and if you really want me to write a book when I know enough I will try. I will do that or any thing to please you that is possible for me." There was a quiver in the boyish voice that touched Angela deeply. She made up her mind to overcome her repugnance to Donald's treas- ures, and, if possible, get interested in them her- self, so with this laudable end in view she seated herself beside him. The muscles of her face, however, were soon working in sympathy with A MKW LIFB BBOUM. u the feeblt! offorta of his prisonera to free them- selves ; her pity at last overoainn her anxiety to be a help rather than hindemnou to him. ** Why do you treat them so cruelly ? Don't you know it is torture to them to be pinned to that shingle?" "I don't think so. They are so small, and have so little blood, they cannot have much feeling." " But they have nerves and sensation just as much in proportion to their size as either of us. Please don't fasten them that ay any more." ««But what shall T do witu them while I am studying about them ? " •'Put them in a box," was the triumphant reply. '' They would crawl out in no time, or else go to killing each other." "You couldn't glue them, could you?" she said hesitatingly. " I will have to impale them for a while yet ; you know they used to treat the martyrs that way." Angela watched them pitifully, her sympathies divided over the sorrows of the poor, vanished martyrs and Donald's prisoners. "Are you not afraid God will be angry with 64 A NEV^ T-rE BEGUN. you ? He loves everything he has made — beetles, and martyrs, and all of us." " I have .my doubts about these chaps ; some way I think they just growed, as Topsy said. Now, do you think yourself the Lord would think about them while he was making worlds and gieat oceans and mountains ? " " Nobody else could make them, and you know they never made themselves ; nobody ever sees things getting made that way — half -finished ani- mals or biids crawling around ; beside the Bible says creepiiig things, don't you remember in the first chapter of Genesis? " Donald slowly released his dftptives and got an empty collar box in which to secure them. Then he settled down again to his interrupted work, and after a few minutes Angela painfully real- ized that she was of less consequence to him just then than those hideous creatures who, no doubt, were making the empty spaces of the box ring with their cries of rage and despair if only she had octaves of hearing high enough for her to hear them. She slipped out of the room slightly chagrined, but also relieved to find that he did not seem to want her help. Ancient history, or even arithmetic would be sunshine and rose bloom compared with the study of those nasty creatures. Ml NEW LIFE BEGUK. 66 Janet and Agnes were always delighted to have a visit from Angela, apart from the good things she bi-ought them. They had not got beyond the rag baby period of their existence, and, although Angeht had iiome time ago ceased to cherish any special fondness for dolls, she could enter \'ery heartily into the little girls' pleasures in this re- spect. They had quite a family of children, the maternal instinct being strong in them, and hav- ing deft fingers for such small girls, they added to their family as the exigencies of the case re- quired. A bit of bleached cotton, a touch of Donald's water colors, and some bits of calico were 8u£Gioient at any time to set up a separate doll life. They had fertile imaginations, and as a result of this gift many a rag baby was moul- dering in the ground, the victim of measles or consumption or a fatal accident — a catastrophe that duplicated some happening in Longhurst or their own neighborhood. Angela preferred weddings to funerals, and she seldom spent an hour there without one of these festive occurrences taking place. But to- day she felt a more womanly instinct throbbing in her heart. She wanted to talk to Mrs. War- dell; to tell her about Donald and to get her interested in the lad's pursuits — the latter a task '■ii^'-,: 66 A KBW LIPB BF>OUN. more difficult tban she expected. She further- more wished to consult her about bestowing on him the severe mental training that she had her- self expected to suffer from; it would be so much better if she could lay the money out on him in- stead, making him, in a way, her proxy. But Mrs. Wardell was very wary and circumspect in her remarks, giving her no encouragement to ex- pect that her help would be accepted further than in taking lessons from Miss Buckingham. " You must not think because we do not accept your generous offer, my dear, that w 're ungrate- ful; that will never be; but you ; e not much more than a child yet, and by the time the lad is ready for college your mind may change. When you get into long frocks you won't come dropping in here liku one of my own ; a great change gen- erally takes place between the girl and woman. The girl can be friendly with them beneath tor when the woman can't ; and we'd be Ae last to try to hold you to promises made before you were old enough to know better. Poor people has their pride as well as the rich." Angela looked grieved, but she seemed to think it useless to argue the matter, yet all the same she had her mind made up that the g^rl Angela. should be reproduced in the woman. She was A HEW UFB BBOU5. 67 silent for some time, and then in a quiet way said : "Don't you think it is sad for a person when there is no one near enough to them to be helped? I wonder if the Lord bn't sorry sometimes for the lonely ones, espeoiaUy when they are so anxious to help others ? " Mrs. Wardell shot her a keen ghmce from beneath her strong eyebrows, but Angela was smoothing out the tangled curls of a waxen dollie bhe had given Agnes one Christmas, her face looking about as innocent as the doll's. " If we at3 anxious to be of use in the world ^die Lord is certain to give rj the chance to be so; he never wastes anything. It's only pow useless cioatures who can't create that dares to be wasteful." «I wish when it is so easy to cxeate people there had been some made for me ; if I only had a brother now to help I would be willing to go without myself to give to him, especially the privUege of studying," she said, with a smile. It was impossible for her to be mekncholj for any length of time, and then, to-day she was having so much to make her happy. The peace that had come so sweetly as well as strangely into her heart a short time before, when in her 68 A NEW LIFE BEGUN. act of consecration she gave herself to God, was still with her. She questioned anxiously with herself if she should tell Mrs. Wardell about it. That good woman looked so grim and strong she could not help wondering if she bad ever felt the necessity of going to a stronger power than her own firm will; if she had ever taken her ignorant, finite heart to God to be made wise, to be fashioned, controlled by him. " Can we give ourselves to God when we are children ? Do you think, now, that I could be a Christian ? " she asked timidly. " Why, certainly you could. . Don't you re> member the Lord said himself when he was on earth, * Suffer the little children to come unto me ' ? and he never changes. It's better to come then than when you are older." " Well, I gave myself to Him to-day, and I feel ever so much safer and happier since." She spoke with a frankn' ss that made the hard lines about Mrs. Wardell's mouth relax, but she put a restraint on herself and forced back the smile that was lurking there. " You must not deceive yourself and take up with a false hope. One can't be too careful in these matters that concern the soul and eternity." " O, no 1 I just gave myself honestly to G perK not : spiri A TSnEW lilFB BBQUK. I told him I wasn't good, especially that I did not like to study, but if he would take me for his child I would just do what he wanted me to." ohe spoke as calmly on the subject of her ex- perience, and with an assurance that a gray-haired professor of sanotiflcation might covet. ♦' I always thought it would be such hard work to get converted," she continued. "The minister says we must agonize, but I do not think there is any need for agony to come near to Christ. Why, he just seems the same as my own father used to. I always felt that he loved me, and that he wanted me to love him. There was no agony about that ; and it is just the same way with Christ. Why, I love to sit here and talk with you about it." The doll lay forgotten on her lap, while with clasped hands and rapt, upturned face she talked of the blessed experience which had just burst upon her. Mrs. Warden's face was becoming graver, while there was a suspicion of tears in her eyes as she worked silently. Perhaps her voice was too unsteady for speech ; perhaps the child's ex- perience had so far outstripped her own she dare not make confession of her slowness of growth in spiritual things. CHAPTER rV. ANGELA'S TEA PABTIE8. Angela went homo in the gloaming that even- ing, in a very contented frame of mind even for her, since she usually found far more of sweet than bitter in her allotments. Very rarely she staid to have tea with the Wardells, and these were the most satisfactory tea drinkings she ever had, as well as the most simple. The ancient china that had come safely across the ocean with Mrs. Wardell when she was an infant in arms, was brought out from its hiding-place, carefully washed and placed on a tablecloth so perfectly laundried it might have been the admiration of a Chinaman. Then, no othet person's bread had just such a flavor as Mrs. Wardell's ; her scones were irresistible, while her jams surpassed even Lindsay's. Angela used to linger lovingly over these tea drinkings. The tea itself was certainly very 61 88 ANGELA'S TEA PARTIES. weak, sin6e she was not permitted a free use of that beverage, but the great flakes of cream floating on top, ."^nd. the mixture sweetened with such wiue diBcrimination - ~a single grain added or taken away would hare marred its perfection — left her nothing further to desire. Beside this elegant repast had the added charm of delightful conversation r even the cat used to sit on the floor by Mrs. Wardell's chair, and in the pauses of cci.'.ersatnn her voice could be dis- tinctly heard purring her satisfaction. The chil- dren were encouraged to talk, but the subjects of oonvprsation were limited to agreeable topics ; neither were they permitted to spice it with gos- sip. Wardell, in many ways, might have sat for a portrait of one of the pld patriarchs who jour- neyed to and fro on the fresh-made world, so uncompromising was he in matters of conscience, sn given to nobility of thinking. In that humble cottage there was a miniature Spar ,'■ /■■• wmmm ff AN0KLA*8 TBA PARTIB8. 16 What do you think your papa would say to that?" " If I could ask him I am sure he would say for me to fill up the schoolroom with boys and girls who want to learn about the vorld they live 10. *' Bless me, child ! what are you going to be- come? I am afraid you will break my heart." " I won't do that now, for I gave myself away to Ood to-day. I am always going to belong to him after this. Aren't you glad, Lindsay?" There was a pathetic quaver in the girlish voice, it was so hard to have no one to sympathise with her in this great, new joy, so sad to be met on every side with indifference. " If it makes you any more inclined to asso- ciate with them beneath you I won't see much cause for thankfulness. Dear me, I don't know what I'll do with you at eighteen if you are so willful at twelve." *' Good-night, Lindsay! I am going to bed now, and I am grateful to you for not scolding me any more about Donald." She was gone be- fore Lindsay had time to reply, and that practical woman was left even more discomfited than usual when she and Angela had a dispute about the WardeUs. 66 AMOBLA'8 TEA PARTIES. " It is na une, I shall be compelled to do it, much as I dislikf^ tea parties. Things has oomo to that pass something must be done, and the only way I see is to get Angela interested in others beside the Wardells, and in fine clothes — they'll be a sight of help ; as it is, the ohihl is getting too much for me." Thus Lindsay solil- oquized as she lighted the lamp and got the Wc'okly newspaper — her usual solace in worry of any kind. The following week she put her resolve into execution, issuing, in Angela's name, the invita- tions for a select gathering of young people, very much, however, against that young lady's wishes, for the people invited were every one of them several years older than herself, and for the most part comparative strangers. They came the even- ing appointed and a meiTy, romping crowd they wei-e, according to Lindsay's estimate ; very dif- ferent from the specimens of young ladyhood it had been her privilege to wait upon in her young days, so she assured Angela and her teacher, at breakfast the following morning. Angela pleaded hard to have a party of her own choosing to finish the remains of the feast, but Licdsay had suffered enough from society for the present, and the only oouoession she would AKOBLA*B TEA PARTIKS. «T mnke was for a pionio in the pine woodii. Angela Koou deiiiilud this wait the l>eiit plan, after all, for they would have all outdoor at their diitpoHal, and no one to interfere with any of their enterpriaea, while they oould eat their good things, seated on logs and mossy hilloclcH, with as little ceremony as the robins themselves. This she felt wouhl be a special relief to some of her guests whose par- ents had neglected to teach them table etiquette. She issued her invitations with great glee. Some thirty children in all were bidden to her feast, among them three little Browns, sisters of Martha, their own housemaid, who took all the more interest on that account in the gathering, no doubt feeling her heart grow more tender to- ward the child who delighted in making glad the poor as well as rich. Even Lindsay got inter- ested in it before the day arrived, and gave orders for a fresh batch of cake to be made, and boiled a ham in order that the supply of sand- wiches might not be limited. Of course lessons were out of the question while the picnic was on the carpet, and if it had not been for Donald, who scarcely expended a moment's time in anything but steady work at his lessons, their teacher would have been in de- spair over her wasted time. *>' 68 Angela's tsa parties. Lindsay found the attraction across the field too strong for her when the day came and the children were at their games under the trees, and presently Martha, who was busy carrying the good things out to the table which Wardell had set up under the trees, was surprised to see her skirting along the edge of the wood, and watch- ing the children flitting among tLo trees. Angela found it one of the happiest seasons of her life when at last the tea was ready, and each child was se ited around her waiting to begin the im- portant wo:'k of the day. Sammy Smith assured Eldora Black who was sitting beside him that Angela reminded him of a piece of sunshiro walking around. The boy had a poetic streak in his composition, inLsrited, so his mother affirmed, from herself. As he sat there, a sandwich in one hand and a mug of hot coffee in the other, he felt like bursting into rhyme to immortulizb the occasion, but the sight of Martha bearing down on him with a huge basin of ice-cream dissipated the poetic frenzy, and he fell to the work in hand as greedily as the moBc lumpish youth in the crowd. Ice-cream was of too dissolving a nature on a hot summer evening to watt for anything so tedious an verse making, Sammy wisely decided. Eldora enjoyed •"WW^'^ havii bette oomj for q were Li and away Ang< sight those fervo drinl only I thinj shon don' heai ferii nuti givt disc wai I sigl witl ANGBIiA'S TEA PABTIBS. 69 having Sammy's attention directed to the victuals better than on Angek, for they had been keeping company according to her version of the matter for quite a good whUe— although both of them were only just into their teens. Lindsay liad been gradually crroUng nearer, and before the tea was concluded was working away among them as busy and interested as Angela herself. It certainly wae an inspiring sight the way the good things disappeared down those thirty youthful throats. Angela, in the fervor of her hospitality, pressed them to eat and drink untU nature rebe'led at last, and they could only gaze regretfully at the plates filled with good things still untouched. Lindsay sent them home shortly after they ceased eating. "They'll be getting sick next thing, and I don't want them dying around here," she said heartlvMsly, but she had forgotten what long-suf- fering organs children's stomachs are, and the nutritious, woU-cooked food was not Ukely to give them any trouble save a trifling feeling of discomfort where they were hedged in with tight waistbands. Angela watched the hist one disappear from sight, and then turned her own face homewards with a rather lonely feeling. ^ 70 AKGBLA's tea PABTIB8, 1 t "If I could only have a few of them stay here," she confided to Martha, "for some of them have such poor homes and food. If it weren't for Lindsay I would keep a few of them, for we have so much more than we need." " But she looks well after your money, and when you are grown up they say you'll be a great heiress; and folks always make a time over them, you know." " I hope I will be very rich when I'm a woman ; one can do such quantities of things. Why, if I had a great deal of money I might have a picnic every week." Martha smiled, but did not acquaint her with the fact that a great deal oi money would not be required in order to do this. " If I do grow to be a woman and can do just as I like I shall help people all the time. It was so delightful for the Lord Jesus that he could do that. I do not think he studied very much either not after he was twelve years old. He seemed to do nothing but go about to do good to the sick and hungry. What large picnics he used to have." " Certainly you should wish to be like Him, for he is our Saviour." " But do we know any one who does as He did? try v« churcl eveaii lovely their there' Eaglii know, they J and n said: thingf say. there "I Why, ings poor{ picnit body only place place fashi( abov( ^'m^ 1 akoisla's tea pahtibs. r the cheap ride in the cars to another place ; one likes to get a view of all the new places they can; it's next thing to seeing the fashion ; but if I was rich, and just a little bit above them, wouldn't I pay them back I " >^m- __ «^ jM'4 Nil! 72 AKOELA*B TBA PARTIES. »♦ Do you tbink the Lord will take those people to Heaven when they die? They are not the least like him," Angela said. This was an en- tirely new and startling view of the case which had never before presented itself to her mind. "Of course they will go to Heaven; whole churchfuls of people couldn't be sent anywhere else, you know," Martha said cheerfully. *'I am not sure about it ; and isn't it a dread- fid thing if they are mistaken about the way they are going? but the little children will all be sure to go to Heaven. 1 think that is the reason so many of them die off. ' " That is rt comfortable way to*look at it, I am sure ; but, bless me ! just see the dishes I have to wash ; I won't want to live with you when you are a woman if you have picnics every week." " I will help you to wash them," Angela said plaintively. The excitement had sustained her through the unusual exertions of the day, but the sight of those dishes would be discouraging to the most industrious of girls, and Angela cer- tainly was not, for she disliked dishwashing next to study. Lindsay came to the rescue, so that Angela's services were not needed, and soon kitchen and pantry were restored to their normal condition of perfect neatness. *A 5- '•-•■■■■'/■ '9li.''\ CHAPTER V. FESTIVAL TIMES. Dokald's progress, under Ws new teacher was phenomenal. At ^^rst he was eager to study those subjects mainly that had to do with his favorite pursuit, but as his vision broadened he saw that for a perfect mastery of even one scientific pur- suit elementary study of all kinds was necessary. With the self-control that was habitual to him he set himself resolutely to pursuing the regular course necessary to make him a well-equipped scholar, only giving himself up in moments of leisure to what was really the single passion of his life. Angela began to lose her interest in his pet study when she saw him so absorbed in Latin and Greek, and the natural sciences, for he had boldly plunged into everything his teacher was able or willing to teach him ; soon her enthusiasm in her apt pupil was so keen Angela was in danger of being neglected. T8 iA .... :"4'*^-.v; 74 FESTIVAL TIMES. '! 1 The harvest fraits were stored, and the early snows began to fleck the gray meadows, but Donald still continued his search for specimens. He found in those volumes borrowed from the library at the Pines so many varieties of insects and creeping things pictured which he had not yet discovered, that he was unwilling to give up the search until the frozen ground finally compelled him to desist. Some mornings he would come to school pinched with the cold, having been out searching for specimens since sunrise. His par- ents had all the Scottish reverence for the student and scholar, hence, when it had been finp'lv de- cided that he was to be educated -very few dr cies were demanded of liim, and he was allowed to be pretty much his own master — a freedom there was little danger of his abusing. The gain to Angela in having him in the school- ~ room became more manifest when he came closer to her in those studies in which she had got the start of him by months and even years. She found it a very gracious task helping him in difficult places ; to assume the role of teacher to one 8o clever and independent was particularly gratifying. As Christmas diew near the prospect of this state of affairs continuing grew very faint ; it was with extreme satisfaction her teacher saw *IKtEi;il..UUJ^c.. -*■' -.1 O . ' * " ': FESTIVAL TIMBS. 76 that Angela was becoming more eager for study ; even Lindsay noticed the change, although she was too set in her opposition to having Donald there to acknowledge it. Lindsay was a born aristocrat in all her views, although she came of a line of peasant ancestors dating back to the e:.iiie8t recollection of her great-grandmother, whom she had heard in childhood recounting the struggles o2 her grandparents to keep their little ones from suffering with cold and hunger. This must have been at least one hundred and fifty years before Lindsay's advent on the scene of earthly turmoil, but some trace of that ancient fight for life may still have influenced her, for her instincts were exceedingly thrifty ; so much so that she could not part with a banknote with- out a struggle. But she was honest, and so far as her light went, conscientious and true* as steel to a charge committed to her trust. It was because of these qualities that she had been so long retained in the comfortable nest she first dropped into when she crossed the seas. At Christmas there was a round of parties given for the young folk in Longhurst, to sev- eral of which Angela was invited and very inju- diciously on Lindsay's part, encouraged to attend. The latter was very aiudons to have her charge 76 FESTIVAL TIlfKS. i' '. 3 „J!fk '\„'"' -» f'^ilwh nr.Jons ab ut dut^, and ^j^jj^ffijldl^Vifr ht' 'I ♦♦ To think of forcing a child like me to endure those late hours and all the silly talk I Yiu have no idea how silly everything is ; really I would sooner be with your bugs, for if they were too tiresome I could throw them out of the house." "You will get to like it after awhile; girls always do," he remarked indifferently. " There is no one to be sorry if I should ; no one but the Lord," she corrected. "Yes, there is one would be sorry," he said, looking at her more intently than was usual with him to regard any object save some insect or bug. "Would you be sorry?" she asked wi^ully. " I would ; when I get my own house you are the only person I want to come near it. Of course my own folks must come, because we are the same family — but you will come as my friend. No friends can be nearer to each other than you and I shall always be, now and always." " O, Donald ! do you really like me better than any one outside of your own family?" she asked joyously. " That wouldn't be saying much for the way I like you. I wonder who there is around here that I sho^'d care particularly for?" Her face lost some of its brightness as she ■illf ■r ■ i'>» m. an ff :v-;wfflst:ni^-?«tffl^ -• ■ililHHi tm mm mmm m^ VKffnVAL TIMES. 79 said, "Just for a Becond or two I thouglit per- haps you did care a great deal for me." ♦» Well, 8o I do — more than for any one else in the world," he said, almost angrily. Boylike, he did not care for these sentimental episodes that were very well for girls, but quite beneath the dignity of a boy. "Why, Donald! you do not like me better than your own mother?" There was pain as well as reproof in the tones of her voice. » One can't help their liking ; I don't have to try to like you, it comes to me the same as breathing ; but there, don't let us ever talk about these things as long as we live. I shall always feel the same way towards you, and it is just fciolishnesB to be talking about it." » You will let me send you to college, and by and by to Germany — you say you are bound to go there some time." "Well, so I am, but a girl is not going to send me." " If I was the girl, Donald, it would be all right, wouldn't it? It will be lovely to have you do the studying for both of us. After you learn all that Miss Buckingham can teach you I won't go to any more expense for my own education, and shall lay out all the money on you." V 80 FESTIVAL TIMB8. *' I shall not renpeot you if you oeaae studyinfi; and grow up an ignorant woman, and liking don't amount to very much where there is no ronpect. I shall want my best f riond to be able to talk with mo on the subjects that I think most about. Women don't amount to much just to look at, no matter how beautiful they may be — there is something finer needed than white and pink flesh and protty features. One's soul need never grow u}>[ly and wrinkled like the body when it gets old." '* If I must be a scholar couldn't we go to college together ? " she said rather hopelessly. *' I suppose so," was the uncompromising raply. " And I can pay all the expenses ? " ** No, indeed ; I shall do that myself. It will take longer, but when I am a man I want to be a genuine one, and not have any person who has a claim on my brains or body." " What do you mean ? " " If the grocer and butcher fed me for nothing I can't understand why they wouldn't own my bones and flesh, since their provisions built my body up ; and it would be ju^t the same with my knowledge if some one else paid the bills." '' You are going to make a very bright man, you go so far down into things ; it tires me to follow you." /I ■■T"' FB8TIVAL TUiXB. U. Angela was disooumged at the tone the oon* veraation hud taken, and but for his asauranoe that she stood first in his affections she wouhl have felt oven worse ; but she resolved by some means or other to be worthy of his regard, in that coming time when he was to be so wise in all his gathered stores of knowledge. Angela's dislike of the Longhurst festivities in nowise lessened. To be forced to sit up late at night, and wear uncomfortably tight clothes, did not afford her half so much oomfcrt as visiting at the Wardells' in her every-day dress, talking with David about the dead and gone heroes that he loved so well, and who while he talked about them, ceased to be the dusty time-cm-od individ- uals she studied about in history, i)ut live men whom she could admire or despise as really as the people she saw every day. He cast the spell of life about them, and as he talked over the heroic or contemptible deeds they had done she would feel her blood tingle with enthusiasm, and for- getting her dislike of labor, would resolve to perform heroic deeds herself some day. With regret she thought of Lindsay's con- tempt of the Wardells, and did not know that she had no rule, save that of sight, by which to talce people's ?< casure, hence fine houses and I /T i i' ii i iii» i' FESTIVAL TDUCS. |0?i equipages dazzled her, and since the Wardells were entirely deficient in these it was quite be- yond her powers to estimate them justly. But the epidemic of tea parties exhausted itself after a time, and Angela was freed from the unwelcome and uLuecessary discipline. Her mind about this time was subject to very frequent changes. At times she would resolve to be a genuine student, and then she would fall into a less heroic mood and conclude that she could live very respectably on a small stock of knowl- edge since she had more tiian the average share of worldly substance. But as she watched Donald as the months wore around she grew ashamed of herself. His appetite for knowledge seemed, if anything, to increase, and seeing him work with such intensity of purpose was like an appealing conscience. When she was inclined, as was too frequently the case, to indulge in her favorite occupation of building air castles, a glance across the room at his tabic strewed with books, and the clear-cut, determined face bending above them, would bring her suddenly down to the actualities of the present. Altogether, it was a great reliel to her when the midsummer holidays arrived. It was such a comfort to know that jidlicv her teacher nor any one, save Donald, expected her ••-.msti--:: c iij FESTIVAL TIMES. 88 to look inside of alesBon book. She saggeBted to him the last day of school, that they put away their books together — an act of thoughtfulness thut he did not appreciate. " Do yon thinik I am going to lose over two months?" he asked with a good deal of impatience. " Why, certainly not ; there won't be any part of the year that I shall live more really than that time, I shall take it to get better acquainted with people and the outdoor world," Angela aaid stoutly. " One needs to know about such things more than bookf ." *'■ I know as much about people as I want to without taking two solid months to study them up. You can find out all about them easier than what I want to know more about. If you know one person well that is about all you need to study in that species; but see how many varieties of insects and bugs there are." " When you get into psychology and anatomy and all those studies about our bodies you will find beetles and butterflies are nowhere in com- parison with men. Indeed we are a long way ahead of them." " I have made up my mind to find out about a great many things that puzzle me before Miss 84 FESTIVAL TIMES. I :. .;ii Buckingham comes back. I often wish I had been born five thousand years ago ; been one of Adam's grandsons. They had such a long time to study. It discourages me when I think how much there is to be found out and what a little while we have to do it in." "I never feel that way; for my part 'I am very content not to know about everything ; the people who are all the time studying are a dry lot, I think ; they do not get no much good out of their life as the ones who take things easy; they are all the time so hurried for want of time, they never can loiter along and let quiet, peaceful thoughts creep into their hearts." " That is wh lire your greatest mistake is. Why, as J. sit here studying I could not have believed any one could be so happy. It seems sometimes as if great worlds of thought were opening out to me. Oh 1 it is grand to " — he stopped abruptly. " To what ? " Angela asked curiously. " To know that you have thoughts of your own, and that you can train them to take hold on the highest, and not sink in the mire." "Well, I mean to get acquainted with this world, and to take all the govl out of it that I am L' ^^ and then when I go to another world where things never come to an end, I will study N4: FESTIVAL TIMES. 85 better. One can never feel hurried in eternity ; and then I have decided while I am here to help others; to get people to be good. You know one can't be everything and do everything when time is sc short, and it isn't as if there was no eternity coming." " And won't you try to be a scholar ? " Plainly he strongly desired her to accompany him along those upward paths. *^ O, yes I just a comfortable sort of one. I shall know a little about a great many things, but I do not think you should ask me to be a great scholar. God does not create every one alike, and I am not thirsty for knowledge, like you. There are butterflies as well as bees, and God made them both. It would be silly for the butterfly to try to make honey and wax. Why, it couldn't possibly do it, and neither can I write Shakespeare's Sonnets or another Paradise Lost. I am just myself and I am not going to snap the strings of my mind trying to be )irhat I am not." " You might do a great deal if you would only try." " Why, Donald, I have been trying ever since you came, and I mean to study some more yet." She spoke very encouragingly, but Donald looked far fi-om satisfied, as he said : <' You have '**j»''^ ;:t'^:<«?'. 80 FBBTrVAL TIMES. hardly beg^n and yet yon speak as if you were nearly done studying ; but I won't coax you any more, only you cannot be my real friend if you are ignorant. You can only come up to me for a certain distance — the rest I should be alone." He left the room abruptly, giving her no time to reason further, neither would he permit himself to bo drawn into a similar arg^ument. Angela was provoked with herself for feeling so disturbed at Donald's words, and tried to assure herself that it need not make very much difference if he did not classify her friendship very highly, since there would be plenty of people left, but she could not succeed in her efforts, and the result was that she regretfully brought her books out and shut- ting herself up for a couple of hours every morn- ing she set herself resolutely to studying. After awhile she grew to enjoy those hours of work, idle enjoyment began to grow monotonous and unfortunately for her there vu'e not sick and poor people enough in her neighborhood to take much of her time, since poor people had other duties to do beside being entertained by benevo- lent damsels,- and the very few invalids in their vicinity preferred to be left alone for part of the time. She felt it a grievance at times that there was so little misery for her to relieve, so few ■.^Jii!.wp'iwjiwij^' '■^i^'f^mmmm^g^" "mmmmmf* FESTIVAL TIM»S. m «ofrowful hearts for her to comfort with a gift of flowers or some of Lindsay's excellent preserves, and she quite envied those people in story books wbc had such quantities of work ready provided for them. One day when Donald came up for a book she detained him long enough to ask if he did not think it a great pity that she did not have the chance to do good like people in books. He seemed to be studying the pfvttem of the carpet very critically, but he was actually battling with himself to keep from laughing outright. It struck him as exceedingly comical to hear this bright young cr«iature mourning over the fact that she could not throw herself into the vortex of misery in lome great city's slums — she who had never seen a worse case of misery than a flick neighbor, who might certainly be somewhat affected by poveriy; but who nevertheless knew little of actual need. He raised hh eyes at last and looked at her closely for a few seconds, and then said : " I made up my mind the last time we were talking never to say anything more to you about studying ; this can't be said to be on that subject exactly, but I will say that it seems to me that the work the Lord mostly wauts you to do just ■ I 88 FBSTIVAL TIMES. ■ t'l now is to get yourself ready against the time that work actually comes to you. I am not much of a judge of such things, only as far as I have road, but I have an idea that people do not beg^u to do much towards evangelizing the world either at your age or mine. A few centuries ago the little children in Europe started on a Crusade to rescue the Saviour's tomb from barbarians, but the only Jerusalem they reached was the Heavenly one. No doubt the Lord recdived them very kindly as the tired, starving creatures went thronging heavenwards, but I think if he had been on the earth he would have ad^^^sed them to let the barbarians keep his empty tomb, and for them to stay at home with their parents until they were old enough i-eally to begin work." "How beautifully you can talk for one so young ; I most think you ought to be a preacher." Angela thought it was as well to turn the con- versation ; the look of disgust on Donald's face at her remark made her desire, however, to mol- lify him directly, but he took his book and left immediately. Occasionally he used to permit Angela and his o-ra sisters to accompany him on exploring expe- ditions. Angela used to enjoy those occasions more than any of them, probably. They used to be gone i never see over-patiei matter ho trudge br for her w< ship Dona She alwa^ luncheon, to partake oise and f i would nev( have a sni pockets, a of his spe pocket wit well when to be, wht knoll or t half-hour moments c for hours, with Dona which theji On sue not being reply to hi FESTIVAL TIMES. 89 be gone fw hours. He was a merciless leader, never seeming to feel fatigue himself, and not over-patient with others if they complained. No matter how tired she might be, Angela used to trudge bravely at his side, feeling richly repaid for her weary marches by the friendly comrade- ship Donald invariably showed on such occasions. She always went provided with a basketful of luncheon, of which she and the two little girls used to partake with the relish begotten of the exer- cise and fragrant smell of the woods ; but Donald would never share her good things. He used to have a supply of oat cake stowed away in his pockets, and was not at all particular when some of his specimens by mistake got into the same pocket with his lunch. He used to know pretty well when Angela was about as tired as she ought to be, when he would sit down on some mossy knoll or recumbent tree-trunk, and chat for a half-hour or so. Those were the most delightful moments of all, and Angela would. toil on wearily for hours, for the brief recompense of talking with Donald about the wonders of the world in which they lived. On such occasions she was mostly a listener, not being able to add more than a monosyllabic reply to his remarks. She used to wish that it : I, ^■ 90 FESTIVAL TIMES. was not BO hard to be bright and to le«rn about all these mysteries, or to think the noble, uplifting thoughts that Donald indulged in, making him so indifferent to the fact that his father was poor and their lot lowly. She used to fall to dreaming sometimes after the conversation was ended, and they were trudging sturdily along over ferns and leaves, and all the wonderland of the unbroken forest about them, how probably the boy Homer or young Socrates were much like him once, in the days when they wandered over the hillsides of Greece, their minds filled with just such high thoughts as to^ay throbbed and pidsated in his heart. She forgot his coarse garments and the abbre- viated limb th?.t forced him to limp rather un- ftTacetully, seeiug in him only the scholar and hero that he was yet to be. She used to wonder if he would still care for her in that day when he took his ph«5e among the leaders of thought — would still remember her; but might it not be with a sort of pitying contempt? She used to make some very resolute promises to herself, but they were easier made than fulfilled. CHAPTER VI. MBB. WILBUR MOXTON'S PLANS. "When Miss Buckingham returned, she was agreeably surprised to find that her pupils had continued, to some extent, their studies during the holidaj^B. Angela confessed frankly that the work had been irksome. " I found it very tiresome at first," she said, «' but trfter awhile those two hours I spent over my books were the best of the day, but it was only after they were ended that I used to think BO ; to the very last 1 disliked going off by my- self and studying. It seems a pity that we always dread a duty, especially when we find out that the doing of it makes us happy." « It seems to be the way with us all to enjoy doing our own pleasure, rather than what i? our duty, bat it is possible to overcome the weakness ; and every time you do so conquer self, yooi leave yourself stronger to gain future victories." 91 = ':^rf>^:; J0^, III 'k 'It 92 MRS. WILBUR MOXION's FLAN8. "But it is very Vn-eaome; I hope we won't need such discipline in the next world," Angola replied. " Than are a great many mysteries to be solved in that other world, but our chief duty is to do our part well in this world, and the next will be all right with us." It required a good deal of urging, however, to keep Angela in the mood for study, and at the best, the acquiring of knowledge was uphill work with her. They began the second year of school under very comfortable circumstances. Donald was anxious to take the preparatory studies for ma- triculation at college. The question as to hovr he was to secure the necessary funds for this was a mystery to the family at the Pines, but they were not aware of the sturdy material of which the lad and his parents were made. For years Wardell had indulged the dream that some day one of his boys would be called from the plough to fit himself for the work of the ministry, and for this time, when it should arrive, he and his wife, out of their meager income, had laid by a small sum each year. Donald knew nothing of this, and was not expecting much help from his parents — only so far as they would provide for % him were heard his the sage such good carrier bit If his sple simple far heroio die! about wha indifferent would sub our newer customed Donald ne One dai feeds and < " I can was the sti "But t same as t college, black the " I certi for the ch{ " I do n work. "W a little ash II MBB. WILBDfi MOXTON'b PLANS. 08 him were he •till with them. Long ago he had heard his father describe the hardy training of the sage of Chelsea, who studied at college to such good effect on the box of oaten cakes the carrier brought to him each week from his mother. If his splendid brain tissues were built up on such simple fare, he coidd trust himself on the same heroic diet. Setting his mind at rest, therefore, about what was before him, he studied on quite indifferent to the hard discipline such a course would subject him to in any university town in our newer world. Scottish lads were better ac- customed to such ways than American, but Donald neither thought nor cared for this. One day Angela said to him, " If your father feeds and clothes you, who will do the rest ? " " I can saw wood and do plenty of things," was the sturdy reply. " But they do not burn wood nowadays the same as they did when Horace Greeley went to college. You surely would not scour knives and black the boots, Donald ? " " I certainly would, and be very much obliged for the chance if they would pay me for it." " I do not think that would be quite respectable work. Would you feel hurt if I should be just a little ashamed of you for doing such work ? " ^rt^^^iAa^^Mi^ mam .■.■-jM*!i**flW* -.'««" ^-t^;.r'aa^fci " mTTJWtliidl *^ r / . IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ,. '^ Cfl % i CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIM/iCIVIH Collection de microfiches. i i Canadian Institute for Historical Microraproductions / Ins'iitut Canadian da microraproductions hiatoriquas / y 'H .1 lummimnB^t.mif BX3!fe*««».M'K!^ 94 MBS. WILBUR MOXTON'S PLANS. " I should indeed." He spoke sternly ; then after a constrained pause, he added, " As if blacking boots isn't just as respectable as making them, or work of any kind." *' There would be very little money in it, and besides, it is very untidy work ; I do not think YOU know much about it. Donald looked dubiously at his boots, and acknowledged that was the case. "6, Donald! if you only would borrow the money from me." » I might die before I got my debt paid, and then you would, in reality, own what knowledge I had got to all eternity." • " I would not ask for better pay than that, for I do not expect to own much if I have to get it myself." Angela spoke eagerly. "Please never speak of such a thing again, for it is no use." " I shall send you lots of preserves and potted meats to eat with your oat cake," she said decidedly. " And I shall eat them with a relish, because they will make you seem near, for when I am away 1 shall miss you most of all." »' You won't need to go for a long time yet : M th St ne ha in th ps se fu wi ai of ill sa BC in in re at h Miss Buckingham says not for another year after this, and then you will be able to '^ake the Sophomore year." His face lighted up as he said, " That is grand news, Angela stood still to look at him, for he, too, had suddenly stopped on the way and was look' ing dreamily through the interlacing leaves into the dense forest beyond, a?, if he saw something particularly beautiful there. "We need not begin to worry about being separated for a long time yet," she said cheer- fully, " and maybe if I am very lonely I may go with you ; we might keep house with Lindsay, and you could help me with my studies by way of paying me," she added hastily, seeing the illuminated look suddenly vanish from his face. "I shall never pay my debts that way," he said quietly. " Well, I scarcely think I shall go to college ; sometimes I am afraid there is not room enough in my head for all the knowledge I am crowding in. You know some heads haven't much spare room," she added apologetically. " You need not have any anxiety on that account ; there is plenty of vacant room in your head yet." 96 MRS. WILBm MOXTON'S PLANS. Angela colored slightly, but did not attempt to contradict him, for, unfortunately, she had learned by past experience that she was sure to get worsted in an argument. Donald was always careful not to begin to reason about anything, but if he was drawn into it, he was certain to be sure of his side, and to that he would stick, no matter who his opponent might be. He sturdily maintained that boys had just the same rights in this respect as men. The manner of conducting their affairs at the Pines provoked little comment, usually, in Long- hurst ; but when it became known, after the lapse of a good many months, that Ahgela had admitted her gardener's son to equal privileges in the schoolroom, some of the busybodies (for of these social excrescences Longhurst had an abundant supply) undertook to regulate matters. Mrs. Wilbur Moxton was the first to interfere, and with her it was more a personal than benevolent undertaking, since she had a son and daughter of her own, at a suitable age to be benefited by a teacher of such acknowledged ability as Miss Buckingham. She made up her mind decidedly that young Wardell should be relegated to his proper sphere, and her own children put in his place. She went early, lest some other designing mot to s her exte C An| and Mo3 coul and cons have of tl appc with A with took sceni critii with ably cisio Will shou very Line ^_ MRS. WILBUE MOXTON's PLANS. 97 pt id to ys be no ily in )he »g- )se bed the ese mt [rs. md ent •of ya [iss dly his his ling mother should forestall her, but it was not merely to secure the superior educational advantages for her children that she planned, other and more extended possibilities loomed up in the future. Only a short time now would elapse until Angela would be old enough to think of lovers and marriage, and when that period arrived, Mrs. Moxton concluded that no better arrangement could be made than to have her son secure Angela and her belongings. To further this desirable consummation, it would be wise, she decide^, to have them thrown together in the close intimacy of the schoolroom. Certainly her son Lewis would appear to excellent advantage when compared with young Wardell. As she walked out to the Fines one afternoon, with this laudable end in view, her practical gaze took in very little of the natural beauty of the scene, but certainly did not fail to notice very critically the special features of the fine property with which, at no distant day, Angela would prob- ably endow some fortunate youth. With the de- cision of character for which she was noted, Mrs. Wilbur Moxton made up her mind that her son should be that fortunate individual. It would be very gratifying in the coming years, to acquaint Lindsay with the fact that the youthful Moxtous, 98 MBS. WILBUR MCtoCTON's PLANS. who by that time might be expected on the scene, had inherited the rich, aristocratic blood of the Marlowes. She was in an unusually uplifted frame of mind by the time she reached the vine-covered door, and stood waiting for her knock to be re- sponded to. A shadow lengthening across the pathway at the side of the house drew her atten- tion in time to see Donald Wardell pass leisurely homewards, an open book in his hand, in which he was so intently absorbed he did not see the visitor who was busily plotting against him. Angela admitted the unexpected visitor, the latter quite overwhelming the girl with the warmth of her greetings. They sat chatting for some time when the visitor announced her intention of remaining for tea, an announcement that re- minded Angela of her own lack of hospitality. Linsday was summoned, but first she made ar- rangements for a most excellent repast, and then hastened to welcome her guest, for she had a par- ticular liking for company, and tea drinkings in particuhir. Mrs. Wilbur withheld her communi- cations untU they were seated around the tea- table, and Lindsay's jellies and cold meats were being satisfactorily discussed, when she delicately broached the subject which, now that the moment had had oft the of : (I girl the hov her ( not poli Loi ask anj hon be^ 4 ( soci cou (I MBS. WILBUB MOXTON's PLANS. 99 had come, was a more formidable task than she had anticipated. 'She began operationB by a dolorous description of their school privileges at Longhurst, especially the deleterious effect; of the promiscuous blending of high and low. " One cannot be surprised if their boys and girls pick up uncouth gestures and slang from the children of day laborers. You do not know how rich your privileges are, Angela, studying here without any coarse associates." " I have company in the schoolroom. I have not studied alone for a year," Angela said politely. " Is it possible any of our young folks from Longhurst have been coming here?" the lady asked, with well-disguised surprise. *'■ O, no, indeed ! some one much brighter than any one I know there," Angela said, with more ' honesty than politeness. " May I inquire who this superior youth may be?" " Donald WardelL" " Wardell ! strange I liave never met them m society. Are they sti-angers in this part of the country ? " '* Why, no, indeed ! Did you never hear of 100 MK8. WILBtrn MOXTON's PliANS. our David Wardell ? Pie has been at the Pines for how long, Lindsay ? " " More than fi -/e-and-twenty years." " Surely the lad you admit to such privileges is not your servant-man's son ? " she cried, with well-affected horror. " It surely is. Angela believes he's the makings of something uncommon ; she'd be glad to educate him right through college, only he's too manly to let her." " And is it possible you permit such intimacy between her and one so far beneath her ? " She looked across the table severely at Lindsay, glad to have the opportunity of paying off some old debts, for Lindsay never seemed capable of for- getting that Mrs. Wilbur's origin had been par- ticularly obscure, even for Longhurst ; but Lind- say was equal to the occasion, for to Angela's astonishment she undertook Donald's defense sturdily. " The lad's as well behaved and civil as if he'd been your own brother, ma'am ; and if my young lady chooses to give him a lift with his learning, when it don't cost her a penny to do so, I can't see whose business it is ; besides, David Wardell is a decent man, and as honest as the sun." , Lindsay looked very sternly through her gold- nmi as ii roua her mas but (( crip mas of ^ (( othe the I Lin( Wil swal amc who was into agai (( youi afte] «( folk full mmr MBB. WILBUR MOXTON'B PLANS. 101 rimmed spectacles, while poor Mrs. Wilbur looked as if she would have enjoyed giving them a vigo- rous shaking all around, but she wisely restrained her indignation ; if ever her son Lewis got to bo master there they would find a new state of things, but until then she must bide her time. " I must say it's a great privilege for the poor cripple. Is he trying to fit himself for a school- master — even that will be a great rise for one of Warden's family." " I can't see why the Wardells are not as good as other folks. Most of us in Longhurst come from the same stock he does — good working people." Lindsay's eyes snapped dangerously, while Mrs. Wilbur for the second time was compelled to swallow her wrath as best she could. She waited a moment to get control of her voice, and Angela, who was indignant at such rudeness to a guest, was opening her mouth to divert the conversation into other channels when Mrs. Moxton began again : " I wish I could get my Lewis and Helen into your school." She turned to Angela, determined after this to ignore Lindsay. " That would never do ; for if we began letting folks send their children here we'd have a houae full in no time." Lindsay spoke authoritatively. a 102 HUB. WILDUB MOXTOM S PLANS. " But, Lindsay, if Mrs. Moxton only sends two they won't fill the liouse," Angela remonstrated. Not that she was particularly anxious to have the youthful Moxtous at school, indeed she would have preferred extending the privilege to soiae others, if granted at all, but Lindsay had been so out- spoken she was anxious to make some reparation. " You can do just as you like in the matter," Lindsay said severely. " We forget that Miss Buckingham is the one who should first have been consulted." Angela turned to her teacher with a faint hope that she would be of the same mind as Lindsay, but Miss Buckingham gave her consent at once, and so it was decided that the two new pupils were to come the following Monday, and having gained her point Mrs. Moxton left directly. CHAPTER VII. ▲ PA88AOE AT ARMS. The Moxtons came promptly on Monday morn- ing. Hia mother's parting cliarge was : " Remem- ber that you are a Moxton, and, if you can help it, do not take any notice of that WardcU. Let Angela Marlowe see how you despise such vulgar associates." Lewis paid attention to his mother's remarks and resolved to put them in practice. Hitherto he had been a very indifferent student ; he exerted himself more about the correct arrangement of his hair than the interior furnishing of his head, and was more interested in seeing that the color of his necktie harmonized with his eyes, than to get his character in harmony with pure and en- nobling thing^. His mother's spiritual vision was limited, hence she was so well satisfied with her son she believed it was only necessary for such a superior youth to be associated with young lOB ^1 f 104 A PAHHAOB AT AUMS. Wank'll, for Angola to bo linprcHBcd deeply with liirt ('xot'lleiico. When he entered the Hchoolroom that morning and Huw that a (rhair and table luul been placed for him next young WardoU's his face mirrored the disguHt he felt at such companionship, and without eouHulting the teatdier he moved to an- other i)art of the room. The light was jK)or, and ho found himself t o near the stove he soon got uncomfortably warm, bi't he mdintained his dig- nity and sat still. He roaolvod on the following morning to be on hand early enough to secure the coveted seat which, at the expense of his morning's naj), ho ac(H)mi)li8h('d, but only to be summarily ordered out of it by Angela when she came into the room. ♦' Donald has the first right to everything here, and you can only come by taking second best things," she said firmly. "Then I won't come at all — to have that pauper put over me." " He a pauper 1 why, he will be worth a score of you when you are men." Angola spoke hotly, but as quickly remenjbering herself said : " I am sorry I spoke so rudely. I know it is not what a Christian should do. Won't you forgive me ? " There were tears in the eyes looking into his. "I give n "V mindj sneaki if Id< »^\ "T a hurt gleam he wil "I iiloi She shoes, she aal "I he 8ai< "If break; "I same J sideriM casioil it bei A PA8SA0B AT ARMS 105 " Soo hero, I will if you lot me keep this Hoat," " I Hhall uot do that, even if you do not for- give mo." '* Very well ; I will take the other seat, but mind, I'll not forfpvo either you or that WardoU Hueak either. I will pay him up for this, see if I don't." " What will you do ? " she asked anxiously. " ril give him a thrashing ho won't forget in a hurry." "Maybe he will thrash you." There was a gleam in lier eyes that said unmistakably, " I hope he will." '' I can manage that cripple ; I'll eat my boots if I can't." She looked down at the neat patent leather shoes. " You will boil them lirst, won't you ? " she asked rather skeptically. " I won't be in danger of having to eat them," he said loftily. " If he should be the stronger you had better break your promise about eating them." " I never break a prounse," he said with the same lofty air, his last assurance raising him con- siderably in her estimation, for even Donald oc- casionally forgot to keep an appointment. Could it be possible this highly perfumed youth with UiS{i£SST«£C»£S.i£ ^'fti ^ fAM o i- 106 A PASSAGE AT ARMS. :i his hair parted like a girl's could be more manly than Donald? She thought over their respective merits that morning more than was really good for her lessons, and began to wonder if boykind generally was a better class of beings than she had fancied, Donald himself striking her as so superior because of her ignorance of them as a class. One defect, however, in Lewis was patent to them all, his capacity for learning being even poorer than her own. He was at least two years behind Donald in his studies, but, as she compared the two lads, she concluded it was only natural Donald's brains should be in a better state of cultivatioii sinoe he spent apparently so much less time on the Arisible portion of his being. She decided that the question as to which was the wiser way, must be deferred until they became men, when the mystery would be solved by their comparative successes. Helen Moxton came alone to school the following morning and brought, in Lewis' stead, an indignant letter from his mother, de- manding expulsion from the school of Donald Wardell. When Helen was asked for explana- tions she gave a thrilling account o£ her brother's disfigured appearance. PASSAGB AT ARMS. *' Both of his eyes are black, and his mouth is swollen out of all shape. Mother has been poulticing him ever since he came home last night after dark." " What kept him so late ? " Miss Buckingham inquired. *' Why, he was ashamed to be seen on the street with such a face." Donald sat looking quietly at Helen while she told her story, and not responding by so much as the contortion of a single muscle, to the angry glances she bestowed on him. Miss Buckingham told Helen to take her seat and then she turned to Donald for his version of the story. "Is it necessary to trouble womenliind with boys' quarrels ? " he asked with heightened color. " It is in this case, Donald ; Mrs. Moxton thinks you should be excluded from school ; we certainly do not wish to do this if we can help it." " I did not think I was striking him so hard, but his flesh is as soft as a baby's." Donald hesitated. " Won't you believe me if I teU you it was not my fault ? " He spoke bitterly, since she did not seem to believe his simple word without unnecessary explanation. "I am sure you were not to bleme, but for 108 A PASSAGE AT ABMS. Mrs. Moxton's sake we must hear the true version of the story." '* You must tell her, then, that J have the mark of Lewis' blow, but it is not on my face ; he came behind me with a stick." " Did you do anything to provoke his anger? " " I had never spoken to him ; you know as well as I what his reasons were." He turned to his open book not very politely, but there was a dignity about the act that charmed his teacher. " Please let me tell what I know," Angela urged. " Certainly ; we shall be glad if you can throw any light on this mysterious circumstance." Angela repeated her conversation with Lewis the previous morning, and his threats against Donald. The latter did not lift his eyes or appear to notice what she was saying, but her gentle defense of his rights sank all the deeper into his heart, while he resolved to be worthy of a friend- ship so unselfish, and to hold her best among his fellows, no matter if she never studied another hour. It came to him at that moment like a revelation, that there are qualities of the heart which take higher ranges than even intellect and culture. " Whoever is excluded from this school it will not be Donald Wardell, you will please tell your mother." Miss Buckingham spoke sternly and then bade them go on with their lessons. For several days Helen continued to come alone. No inquiries were made after the health of the sufferer, but one morning the young gentleman came bravely into school — the scars nearly healed on his face, while he looked as self-possessed as if he had been laid up in honorable wai'fare. To say that they were surprised to see him back again but mildly expressed their consternation when he came in and calmly took his seat, but Miss Buckingham was too rigid a disciplinarian to allow such a dastardly act in a pupil to pass unchallenged. " We did not expect to see you here again." There was a touch of contempt in her voice. *'0h! I wasn't hurt much. It couldn't be called a thrashing that he gave me." He cast a meaning glance first at his shoes and then at Angela. "Your punishment was not in proportion to your deserts, and therefore I shall supplement it. You can only remain here on condition that you ask Donald's pardon for your cowardly attack on him." -'M 'I lii 110 A PASSAGE AT ARMS. His face turned first pale and then a deep crimson, but he did not move nor speak. " You can either write an apology, or else go directly and ask Donald to forgive you, promising that you will never do such a thing again." There was no mistaking her determination to be obeyed. He took a sheet of paper and scrawled a few unintelligible lines on it and laid it on Donald's table, where it remained unnoticed until the school was dismissed, when Angela secured the precious missive, but could not make out a single word. Donald was not molested again, probably not so much because of the written promise Lewis had made, as for his respect for his schoolmate's well developed muscles. He found to his sorrow that if Donald limped when he walked, there was nothing defective about his hands, while be was considerably mystified that a lad of his years should have such excellent fighting ability, and make such small use of it, for Angela had told him in confidence afterward that their encounter was the first fighting he had ever done. " He says that could hardly be called fighting," she hastened to explain, "for you weren't any good at all, you doubled right up and began to scream like a baby." (( him idea I tl g00( One race as ij ities they be s me.' cont n silly said (( ther low M somi peoi t( Lon he a, Mtoh A PASSAGB AT AKMS. Ill " I guess he'd have screamed too." " But he never said a word when yon struck him across the shoulders with a club. I had no idea boys were made of such different material. I thought at first that you might be nearly as good as Donald, but what a difference there is. One can hardly realize that you are the same race of beings." Angela talked on as innocently as if Lewis, and his lack of courage, and fine qual- ities generally, were some indifferent third party they were discussing. *' There is not another girl in Longhurst would be such a fool as to prefer that Wardell before me." Lewis was exasperated almost beyond all control. *'The Longhurst girls must be more than silly, then ; but perhaps you only think so," she said cheerfully. "No, I don't; why, they do not even know there is such ii fellow ; they do not take notice of low country people." " They will be proud to have him notice them some day. Don't you know anything about great people?" " I guess I do. There is not one of them in Longhurst but is on visiting terms at our house," he said proudly. 112 A PASSAGE AT ARMS. " Great people, indeed ! Why, you are as ignorant as one of the Doolan children on the back lane," Angela said, with unusual sarcasm. " There never was a great person in Longhurst. I meant poets and philosophers and that sort. Why, about three out of every four really great men were country boys like Donald. They do not come from narrow-minded towns like Long- hurst, or big cities where they have no chance to learn about things, but from the great, wide country where their hearts have plenty of room to grow in." " Who told you so ? " he asked skeptically. "Books. You may learn a • great deal out here that you would never have known. May be you will grow to be like Donald." She beamed upon him encouragingly. " Wouldn't it be lovely, now, if you took a turn for the better, and copied after him ? Why, I should feel as if I had done a great deal of good. Of course you could never be really like him, but you can not help that,' for you were not created very much at the first ; and it is impossible to be great when the material for it is not in us." " I'll let you see I have as much in me as he has, when we are men. The idea of comparing that country lout to me." His indignation was over dece how supe he ii woui to SI I m hou8 (( his '. is, t celel L neve since V A PA8SA0B AT ARMS. 118 overmastering him. «»Why, he never wore a decent suit of clothes in his life ; wouldn't know how to get into them if they were g^ven to him." "I was not comparing him to you. He ia superior to any one I know personally, or at least he is going to be when he is a man." " You are nothing but a foolish child or you wouldn't listen to his boastings. It's easy enough to say what you are going to be ; for my part, I mean to be rich; I shall build a splendid house, and have a store and lots of clerks." " Donald never boasted that much to me in all his life. It is not what he says, but what he is, that makes me feel that he is going to be celebrated some day." Lewis turned away in disgust, determined never to argue with Angela about Donald again, since he always got worsted. mam CHAPTER VIII. ▲ SURPRISE. Another year slipped quickly away, Lewis and Donald coming no nearer to being friends than at the first. Lewis felt himself on a social plane so far above his schoolmate there was really no need for him to be jealous when the latter left him so far behind ia his studies that even Angela grew cheerful when she compared her progress with what Lewis was making. Lewis assured her, by way of apology, that he did not purpose making his fortune with the same brains that he studied with, and he had conscientious scruples against overtaxing his strength with unnecessary study. " But they say one must know a good deal if they expect to succeed and be respected," she suggested. " Well," you see we have only one life to live, and if we study like Wardell, why, we have no 114 Iv \ Ik A BCRPRISV. 116 Bort of good times at all. I like to go oat in the evenings to parties and concerts and such places ; they are enough sight pleasanter than * ^ be stewing over books all the time. That poor beggar hasn't anything better than study, but if he had my privileges he wouldn't get on as he does with his lessons." Angela looked as if still unconvinced. The conversation took place just at the close of school before the midsummer holidays, and although she liked the enjoyments of the hour as well as Lewis, she was not much inspired by his words. " The time i.\ gone now, and you have very little to show for the way you have used it. Donald would get over as much ground in ten weeks as you have in forty." " See what a booby he is. Put him in a room full of society people, and he would be like a fish out of water; and if he had a mint of money he couldn't get himself up as well as some I know could do on a mere nothing." •» That will come to him by degrees ; and, any way, it don't matter much how a man dresses. I like to see them look careless ; they are not so much like dry goods clerks. It is well enough for them and girls to think of those things, but it is childish for men." I m tsBBBaasass m \ .\v mmmmmmsmssmmmmmmmm. tmmmmmimmBmmammm 116 A BCltPRISB. Lewis colored, but did not attempt a reply. He had not got into an argument with Angela about Donald for a good many months, and he was wishing now most heartily that he had continued that judicious silence. " And only think," Angela went on, as if de- termined to make him more thoroughly ashamed of himself, " Donald will be ready for college so much sooner than you, and he had no chance worth mentioning until he came with us." "I don't care how much he learns, he will always be old Wardell's son, your hired man, and he could never come here to visit you as an equal, with his father digging in your garden. And no matter how much he loved you he wouldn't have the impudence to tell you so." " Indeed he would tell me. He has told me several times that he likes me; once he said better than any one in the world." She spoke very triumphantly. "Is he going to marry you when you are grown up ? " Lewis asked fiercely. "Why, certainly not. We never thought about it. I mean to marry a man from far away when I am a woman ; that is, if I get mar- ried at all. I haven't quite made up my mind yet' V A BURPBIBB. 117 Her assurance that she bad not thought of becoming Donald's wife was comforting, for Lewis, like his mother, had made up his mind that he would be not only Angela's husband, but the owner of the Pines. He had overheard more than one conversation between grown men as to the probable value of that estate, if properly managed, especially since the town had, of late, started out in that direction. If the fields were broken up and sold into building lots, a snug fortune from that source alone would be the re- sult. If this fine property could be secured, there would be no questioning the possibility of his having that elegant house in the town, with the store in addition, and plenty of clerks to superintend. But he was a judicious youth, and gave no hint of his plans to Angela, or any one else. He merely set himself steadily to the work of beginning his wooing in good season. He reckoned Donald's absence an important factor in »he undertaking; with him out of the way, Angela would soon forget bis superior ability as a student, and as that was the only advantage he possessed, Lewis consoled himself that she would not be much impressed by that, especially as she waL not a brilliant student herself. He did not by any means approve, however, i SURPRISE. of the long tramps through woodland and by stream, that Donald and Angela took together, hunting for speuimuns, with no other company than his Bisters, the latter usually some distance in the roar, as they found each other's sooiety more to their mind than the obscure oonversa* tions which Donald carried on with only Angela for audience. He decided at last to get Donald into his own social set, and let Angela see how poorly her hero conducted himself among his superiors. At conHiderable expense of personal dignity and comfort, Lewis got up a picnic, and took the trouble to convey Donald's invitation himself. The day came and all the invited guests, Angela among the rest, but Donald alone was conspicuous by his absence. *' Is Donald not coming ? " he asked anxiously. It was Angela's first intimation that he was invited, and she said with surprise, " Why, was he invited?" >« Yes ; I went for him myself. Did he not tell you?" " He did not mention it, and I was speaking with him on my way here." Lewis turned away abruptly. It was necessary to give vent to his feelings, and it would not do for i occai tunil absei ti temf then that not or n( ti had I do abou it peof goo^ I'd don' you It can' aroi t( A SURPKIBB. 119 for Angela to hear the phraMi used on such an ovcatiion. The following day iihe found an oppor* tunity to question Donald on the cause of his absence. "What did I want there?" he asked con- temptuously. "You wouldn't expect me to go the(« and sit around like a girl, with a crowd that don't speak when they meet mo on the street I not that I care particularly whether they speak or not," he hastened to explain. " But you would have got to know them if you had gone, and then they would speak to you." '♦ I don't want to be jerking my head to folks I don't oare a farthing for ; I might be thinking about something and not see them." " Do you ever feel badly because the Longhurst people don't notice you ? " she asked anxiously. '" Never," was the hearty response. " What good or harm would they be to me, any way ? I'd sooner meet with a good specimen. People don't amount to much unless they are the kind you want." " Am I the kind you want? " " Well, yes ; only you know very little. You can't help me any, but still I like to have you around." " I am most surprised that you do ; after you ..■w. li! A 8UEPRI8B. have been to college I do not xpect you will want me to go hunting specimens with you any more." " I may not come home very soon ; I won't if I can get something to do, so it is not wise to w'-ry about what may happen, or the way we a.ay feel when we are older." You surely won't forget all about me," she pleaded. " To be sure I won't. I have a better memory than that, especially when you have done more for me than all the world put together." " You forget ;'our father and mother." " Oh ! no, indeed ; but parents are expected to do for their children just the same as they < for themselves ; they do not get the same credit doing for their children as strangers do, and they do not deserve it." "Do you think it sounds just right to talk that way about your parents?" Angela said doubtfully. " Perhaps" not, so we won't talk any more on that subject." Donald certainly had somewhat original, and not exceptionally exalted ideas respecting the filial relations of children to their parents ; Angela concluded that absence and intercourse with a 00 pr wl Tc hii ho in no lej thi wi m( do th( ws th; la( tir an th Ut A SURPRISE. 121 oold-hearted world might teaoh him to value properly the love that he held so lightly, and which she knew his parents bestowed upon him. To his great surprise, the day before he left home his father confided to him the secret of their hoardings. As they walked along the dewy lanes in the early morning he said to Donald, " I do not know how you are expecting to live at col- lege, while you are getting through the two or three years it may take you." " I have made no plans as yet, but some way will be provided. Mother has promised to make me a box full of oat cakes ; by the time they are done I shall have something hunted up," waa the fearless answer. " And would ye live on oaten cake and cold water?" " It would be wholesome ; you can't deny that." " I'm richt glad ye'll hae no need to do that, laddie," Under strong emotion Wardell some- times fell into the speech of his childhood. *' Why not ? " Donald asked with surprise. " I am not going to let her send me," nodding toward the house where Angela, no doubt, still lay in her little bed fast asleep. *'We dinna ask ye; yer mither and I hae It H»*»wliMw#*«***' A SURPRISE. been getting ready for this day since long afore ye waur born. Glad are we that a bairn haa been sent asking for the store we have put by for him." Donald saw that his father was unusually moved, but not comprehending the cause for his emotion, kept silent. " Ye dinna ask my meaning, laddie, but I will tell ye. The money lies in the bank yonder, to pay yer way through college. If ye do honor to yer faither and mither, and, more than that, to yer God, we'll be paid for doing without and faring poorly that ye may be trained." Donald's face worked convulsively. Never before had he realized what parental love meant. Was he worthy of such sacrifices? could he ever repay them? They walked on some distance in unbroken silence, save what the birds made as they flew busily from place to place in search of their breakfast, the chirp of the cricket in the bare uplands, or the tinkling of the beU as the cows went slowly pastureward. Donald listened with pained intentness to these, and the lower notes from tinier throats which blended with the other soundb like the different instruments in an orchestra, and while he heeded so closely all these well-known voices, the question pres( wort almo hew to hi pay thes4 life- attei decli even had requ alike still, reve hisi with (( goin and richi need am ' dot H lips i!i A SUBPRISB. 128 sr t. jr n IS >£ le le e, at id m presented itself, How could he prove that he was worthy of such love — such devotion that partook almost of the nature of the Infinite ? Certainly he would study, since to do this came as naturally to him as speaking. If life was spared, he would pay back the debt, interest and principal, but these were not enough. He would devote his life — that part of it that books and study did not utterly dominate — to the work of making their declining years bright. He did not speak, not even to thank his father for the sacrifices they had been making for years, but speech was not required between them, for they were so much alike. Donald had inherited from his father that still, deep nature that does not look to speech to reveal itself. Instinctively he felt certain that his father would understand that he was grateful without telling him so. '*She was telling me yonder, that you were going to work for them there *— black their boots and the like, to pay your way. We would be richt willing to let ye do it if there waur any need, but I am glad it is not needed. Than'ful am I this day that it was put into your heart to do this thing." Ke lifted his eyes to the far blue heavens, his lips moving in silent prayer, or rather thanks- *lliKi-r tkml»i^m* 124 A SURPRISE. giving, that God had honored his faith and given the son he had longed for, even if he was not so perfect physically as he could desire ; but a better dispensation had come than that old Levitical one that insisted on visible perfection. " And will ye be a minister some day, Donald — preaching the wurd in the house of the Lord ? " " Not that, father ; I have not the call for such work ; it is not men's souls that attract me, but God's other mysteries. He made the small as well as the great. You must not be disappointed, for I did not plan my own destiny." " Nay, lad, I will try to be content ; but you will pray to God every day to guide you " — He paused, but Donald made no response. " Won't ye promise me that much, my son ? " There was an undertone of pain in the deep voice. "Yes." David Wardell was content with that brief response. He knew the promise would be faith- fully kept. They went back to the house for breakfast, Donald feeling, in some mysterious way, as if he had just taken upon him the vows of the Lord. He would in all honesty keep that promise. He shivered as he tbought of what it might mean, to give up the work that lured him so powerfully, and i of m( starv atyp carec self, inten nevei a pa! it to He I altho unde hisfi agon lattei Tl knovt some been unus straii tion - sligh abou ingt had 1 A SURPRISB. 126 and instead spend his life amid the busy haunts of men, shut up perhaps in stifling cities, his heart starved through intei-oourse only with humanity ; a type of creation that, with few exceptions, he oared nothing for. And then he comforted him- self, or tried to, with the thought that God never intended such discipline for him as that. He never made such mistakes — creating a heart with a passion for one kind of work, and then forcing it to wear itself out on a kind that it loathed. He scarcely thought of anything else all day, although in all formality he had gone to his room under the eaves, and, fastening the door, offered his first genuine prayer — if genuine prayer means agony and thanksgiving; his had none of the latter. There had never come to him that mysterious knowledge of sin — its burden and horror — which some experience when very young. His life had been so absorbed in other things, making him unusually free from self-consciousness, and re- straining him from impurity of life and associa- tion — he lived so apart from others that he had slight knowledge of the ways of the young people about him. He had littered morning and even- ing the prayers taught him in childhood, but they had grown into such a habit the repeating theiu ! ■S 126 A SUBPKISa occupied bis thoughts little more than the act of breathing. The few words spoken so solemnly by his father that morning had touched his spirit- ual nature. He felt for the first time in his life that he did not belong entirely to himself ; that One who had hitherto seemed scarce more than an abstraction, was a living power to whom he owed allegiance ; whom, if he was wise, he must obey implicitly. He found the question too profound to be solved in a few hours. He thought of the many passing on to the awful mysteries of eternity with no solution to the problem — would he be of the number ? In the blush of evening he went up through the meadow path to say good-by to Angela, his arms filled with books that he was carrying home. In one of them he had found a slip of paper, yellow with age, which described some rare speci- mens of insect life brought from South America, and preserved in the ebony cabinet in the library. He took it to Angela ; perhaps they might still be there. She had been waiting for him all day, and at that late hour was inclined to resent his inatten- tion. He scarcely waited for her to conclude her chiding when he showed her the slip of writing. aske (t to-ni i( (( ' othei buttc look the I own 1 them. Th voice, her fi the b ures 1 thing to vai room, key a it wac «G Ange Linds thelo m A BUBPRISBi. 127 "Do you think they are in it Btill?" he asked. "Oh I certainly; but must you see them to-night?" " I would like very much to look at them." "You have come so late, and there were other things I wanted to talk about than dead butterflies." " You can talk of those other things while I look at the specimens. I daresay I have seen the same in pictures, but not really in their own natural beauty. Please, Angela, let me see them." There was no resisting the entreaty in his voice. With a sigh of impatience she went to her father's desk, and in the secret drawer found the bunch of keys that hid so many other treas- ures than departed butterflies -r- if there is any- thing about a butterfly save its body and wings to vanish at death. She brought them into the room, and after many failures found the right key at last, but the lock had been so long unused it was rusty. "Get some kerosene," Donald suggested. When Angela brought it a feather was abstracted from Lindsay's best duster, and after a few more efforts the lock responded to the key and delivered up m A SURPniSJB. its treasares. Angela next got a lamp, and turn- ing the light upon the open cabinet, she glanced in to see what might be there. Donald atood motionless and silent so long that she craned her neck at last to see his face, and the look of rapture in his eyes haunted her for many a day. " Yon won't think much of these when you get to college, for they have great rooms full of specimens there." He brep^^hed a sigh of content, as if all his brightest longings were on the eve of being ful- filled, when Angela said merrily, " Why, yon couldn't look gladder if we had found a pot of gold." * • ' '* What would a pot of gold be compared with them — each coin alike and about as ugly and flat as it could be ? but these God made." He paused, as if that last thought were a new and very wonderful one. " I am sorry we did not know about them before. What - tiresome marches it would have saved us." *' I should have hunted all the same, but not for such beauties as these; they come from a better country than ours. I mean to go where they live if I have to walk." After that Angela stood silently holding the ki A SURPKI8B. light, and Donald as silendy admired the poor dead things impaled on wires. "I must go now," he said at last, with a gesture of regret. " You find it harder parting with them than me, and they are only little dead things, that wouldn't know what you were if they had their life in them again." Angela turned away bit- terly ; surely Donal(f had no mire heart than the bugs and beetles themselves, and she was a goose to feel the parting so keenly, when the pain was all on her side. " But we shall meet again sometime ; besides, girls cannot do much for one — they know so Httle." " And this is the end of all our friendship ?" " No, it is not the end ; for I shall always like you, no matter if you are ignorant. 1 ought to like you, for you have done everything for me." " I do not want any one to like me from duty, but I believe that is all the kind of affection you are capable of. I shall get another friend di- rectly, and one not wrapped up in bugs and spiders." Her sentence, though bravely spoken, ended in something very like a sob. « Angela, we must not quarrel," said Donald, " and you must not get any one in my place. I idfc^. J^ — ^M ^^^^^ mmmmmmmmm 180 A BOBPRISK. beliovo I would give up everything rather than that. I did not know how much I cared until you Hpoke just now. V jn't you have patience with me? for God must have me to like these Btudies. Won't you say good-by kindly, and keep me for best friend — your dearest, beat, ever and always ? " She turned a very glad though rather wet face to him. »' And will you be my best friend ever and always ? Promise me that you won't get to like those musty old professors better than you do me." ♦'I promise;" he held out his hand to say good-by. Angela gave him her hand and glanced half-timidly into the face looking intently at her. It ^vas sunburned ; even the forehead, over which there generally fell a tangle of brown, curly hair, was white only where the hair screened it from the sunshine, for Donald had a weakness for going in his bare head in the open air ; but the face itself was as finely chiseled as any the old Greeks have sent down to us as types of their own high civilization, and with character enough for a dozen such facej< as Lewis Moxton's. "Good-by, Donald," putting her little soft hand into his brown one. It was the first time they had ever touched hands, except by accident. ;.:, ! i^n A 8URPRI8B. 181 •♦ What a tender littlo hand, Angela," he said ; " it could never be good for anything but orna- ment. May be that iH all yota were made for." ** It is not all, Donald ; I pray to God every day, to let me work for him. I do not aak for the kind of work 1 would like. I leave that all with him. He is going to answer my prayers somehow, some day." '* I began to do that to-day. My father asked me to, but I am not wrilling to trust all to Ood. I do not want to be a minister. I hate to be working among people — you have no idea how tiresome they are to me." " Why, Donald, how foolish you are. Ood does not want us to do things we were not in- teuded to do. I am sure he does not want you to preach ; for one thing, you can't talk very well ; your words have a habit of sticking, you know, and preachers, more than any one, need to talk easy ; besides, you have talent for other things." " Those are very encouraging words. You have the faculty of helping one out of discourage- nvents more than any one I know." She paid little heed to his compliment, for her mind was full of the other thought. " You had better keep right on praying, only h 132 A BUIIPRIEB. yon munt be willing for God to have his way with you, or it in not inuuh ubo to pray, I think ; you will hinder hia plann." ** I wiuh you would pray for me, Angela." " Why, Donald, I do that every day of my life. You do not think I cared for you ao little aa that ? " " I never thought about it, and I never prayed once for yon." ♦♦ Well, yon need not do so, if you will just pray for yourself. I have a great deal more time, and besides, I love to pray to God." '' I believe, Angela, you are a long way ahead of me in some things." He dtopped the tender little hand, cast another look at the cabinet, and was gone. !!'U CHAPTER IX. B O A R D I N 0-8 H O O L. The following year was a very tedious one to Angela. The Moxtons still oame, but Lewis, if possible, made slower progress than ever. An- gela, who was determined to show Donald that she was good for something beside ornament, studied harder than ever, and she found Lewis a great hinderance to her, as they studied together. They were both preparing for college, for Angela had made up her mind to take the full course. It would take them still another year of hard study before they would be able to matriculate, and the Moxtons were reckoning on having the same school privileges for another year, but Miss Buckingham advised Angela to go to a boarding- school, where she would have a better opportunity for learning other things than mere text-book knowledge. Donald did not come home the following year. 188 i<^amiLumm MHiiiii 134 BOARDING-SCHOOL. One of the professors was anxious to have him accompany him to the sunny Southland, where creeping things abound, and of course he most joyfully accepted the offered situation, which was both remunerative and flattering to so youthful a naturalist. For a while, in her disappoint- ment in not seeing Donald, Angela felt as if her hard work had been expended in vain, since he was not coming home. Miss Buckingham, too, was going away, probably never to revisit the Fines. She had come from England some years ago, as governess in a family, and when her work there was ended, Angela's father had secured her for a teacher for his own littlp daughter, then less than ten years of age. No wonder that An- gela looked out now rather dismally on the future, separated from her two best friends in- definitely, for Miss Buckingham had such a horror of ocean travel, nothing but the desire to be once more with her kindred wou1;l have induced her to cross it; while Donald was so absorbed in his own pursuits he was little more to her now than a stranger. He mentioned her name in every letter home, but he had never written to her directly, and one letter all to her- self would have pleased her better than scores of second-hand messages. t; ti g ii h it w w St ti fa C( 81 W h< to al 81] in th m CO in m im jre ost ras ful ut- lier he oo, the ars ork her hen kn. the in- a to ave so lore ler sver ler- s of BOAEDING-SCHOOL. 135 She left the Pines with Miss Buckingham ; the latter remained through the holidays merely to keep her company. When they came to say good-by on the crowded steamer, amid the push- ing, self-absorbed throng, Angela realized that her feeling of desolation would have been slight in comparison, if their adieus had been spoken within the shelter of her own somber pines. She went directly to the school, and here, too, all was strange. For a while she was inclined to regret that her desire to please Donald had led her so far. The school was a large one with a corre- sponding staff of professors, and everything in connection with the institution calculated to in- spire the students with ambition to excel in the work for which they were there. Angela never felt herself so willing to forget herself in books as now, since they helped her to forget her own heart's loneliness ; no one in all the world to be very glad or sorry at her success or failure, for Lindsay took vastly more interest in the farm and her belongings generally than the intellectual development of its youthful mistress. After Lindsay there was no one who could be expected to take more than secondary interest in her ; Miss Buckingham had a widowed mother with sisters and their children to fill the 1^ mtkr'^ 186 BOAKDING-SCHOOL. place in her affections that Angela might other- wise have possessed. Economy not being a necessitv in Angela's case, Miss Buckingham, who made all the arrangements for her in the school, secured her one of the very best rooms, and stipulated that she was to occupy it solely, unle-is she was anxious for a roommate. As the weeks wore on, and she became better acquainted with her schoolfellows, she resolved to take a roommate so soon as she could secure one who satisfied her rather fastidious tastes. Some of the girls, like herself, had plenty of spending money, others werfc there at consider- able sacrifice; but none of them came quite within the requirements of her helpfulness, until one day there came a student, some weeks after the term had begun, whose appearance appealed at once to Angela's sympathies. She was a gentle-faced girl, dressed in shabby black, and looking both frightened and sad-hearted. An- gela's sympathies were aroused at once, especially when she obsterved that the ofJiers were inclined to sneer at the new-comer — not so much at her- self, for nature had fitted her out as gracefully as the best of them, but at the poor equipment of dry goods she brought with her. At first Angela mado no friendly advances, since the girl '■ i was was mail wall last link an i time « wan (( thinj ther( touc «( we advt friei diffe tt for crow (t som( none BOARDING-SCHOOL. 187 WM ill none of her clasdes, but the wistful face was growing more pitiful, while her chtssmates maintained a frigid bearing. As they were walking through the comdors at the close of the last session for the day, Angela went to her, and linking her arm with ihat of the new-comer, said : " My name is Angela Marlowe ; if I wait for an introduction we may be strangers for a long time." " My name is Dora Keith." " A very pretty name," Angtia remarked, for want of something better to say. " I shall be glad if any of you can like any thing belonging to me." Dora spoke low, but there was a plaintiveness about her speech more touching than the words themselves. " O, yes I we shall like you very much when we get better acquainted. You are at a dis- advantage coming so late. We have all got our friendships made, you see, and it makes us in- different to new-comers." " I could not come any earlier, and I am sorry, for it is hard to have no friends in such a crowd." " You shall have one friend. I enjoy having some one to make happy, so I will take yoa ; none of the others netd me very mu.'^h." Dora Keith looked at her curiously. Was the girl quite sensible ? she wondered, for she talked like some budding philanthropist looking for subjects upon whom to experiment. Angela, fortunately, was in blissful ignorance of the thoughts going on under cover of her prot€g6'8 brain. " Come with me until study hour begins ; do you room alone ? " "Yes; in the attic. I could not afford to have a room," she said honestly. " Why, you must be all alone, then ? " "Yes." " Are you frightened ? " "O, no ! I rather like it ; when I get up there I partly forget that there are so many curious eyes to look at me." Angela opened her door. It led into a daintily furnished room, most of its adornments having been put there at her own expense. " Oh 1 what a lovely room, and so homelike. I iiever saw anything so pretty before." '• I am glad you like it, for I mean to share it with you. I won't have another bed put up, for that would spoil it, but w<; will get a sofa bed, and we can have it to lounge on when we are tired." pei wit not siuj thii t ti wai ing wis] the you (I muE wor peo beai and (( cam for I ca wek you. >*5*^ «Mi BOABDIKG-HOHOOL. *' You do not mean to have me share this ez« pensive room — to stay in it, day and night, without charging me anything extra? I could not do it, for I am poor and cannot afford a single luxury." " Why, certainly you won't have to pay any thing extra." " But why do you ask me ? " "Do you think I could lie here snug and warm at night with people all around within call- ing distance, and feel that I was doing as I would wish to be done by when I left you up there in the cold, with nothing but mice within reach of your voice ? " " I do not know what to think, only that you must be different from every one else in the world." »* Oh ! no, indeed ; you do not know many people yet. There are a great many people with beautiful souls. You know very often the outside and inside of people does not correspond." " Well, you arc lovely altogether, but still I cannot accept your offer. It would not be honest for me to take it, but if you will let me feel that I can come here when I ^et very lonely, and be welcome, I shall be so glad, and I won't disturb you. The teachers told me when it waf> cold to fTdBBHl IH 140 B0ABDINGM3CH00L. Bpend all my study hours in the schoolrooms, but they are lonelier than my own garret ; they remind me so " — she stopped there, and did not finish the sentence. Angela fancied that she was going to say that they reminded her of the cold ghmces she met every day. " They think a great deal of rich people here, and I am pretty rich." Angela spoke as impersonally on the subject as if she had been discussing a victim of the mumps. " When I am intimate with you the rest will be, for I have the prettiest room, and they like to come here, every one of them, I believe," she added with a sigh, for her room was more of a thoroughfare than even she, with her generous nature, craved. " I am going to take you for best friend, too ; I haven't really selected one yet, but a good many hava asked for the position." Angela was dismayed to see her newly selected friend burst into an uncontrollable fit of weeping ; surely that was a strange way to receive her proffered friendship. "Don't you wish to have me for best friend?" she asked after awhile when the emotion had somewhat subsided. "( in th( and ' • heart "I I cou cryinj It mm "N wish I "Y to get got m just li "]W for he she a dress "]M partic mothe she a ' "Y she ws black. An[ B0ARDING>6CHOOL. 141 " O, yes t I shall love you better than any one in the world ; but I was not expecting anything, and you give me so much, and jn»t when my heart was so heavy." *' I am glad that was all you had to cry for. I could not quite understand ; I am not given to crying, and such quantities of tears frightened me. It must hurt to cry so," she added sympathetically. '' No ; it is what goes before that hurts. I wish my mother could know." " You can write to her, and just say I am going to get each of us a pretty winter suit ; I haven't got mine yet, and I want my best friend to dress just like me." " My mother is dead, and I am in mourning for her — at least I got the best I could afford," she added, casUng a rueful glance at the one dress that had to do duty for best and worst. " My mother is dead, too, and I never wore a particle of mourning for her. I am sure your mother would not mind if you took it off. Was she a Christian ? " " Yes ; her death was more like a translation, she was so happy." "Then it is not necessary for you to wear black. I did not for either of my parents." Angela did not mention the fact that she was 142 BOARDINQH30HOOL. *i!. MiSill • ? scarcely a day old when she lost her mother, which was an excellent reason for not putting on mourning, while her father charged Lindsay not to sadden his beloved child with so much as a black ribbon when he was freed from the loneliness of life, and its pains. On the following Saturday Angela got one of the younger teachers to accompany her on a round of shoppirg, that included a complete out- fit for herself and her best friend. Miss Buck- ingham, at Lindsay's suggestion, had stipulated that she might have a certain amount each month for spending money ; thus far she had kept within the limited sum. Probably she had never realized so keenly how convenient it is to have a full purse. The shopping proceeded very satis- factorily ; the frocks and cloaks were bought, and then they proceeded to the millinery store, An- gela meanwhile thinking more of the effect her purchases would have on Dora than herself. " Won't she look so pretty in this hat I " she exclaimed, holding up a dainty bit of millinery. " They will be becoming to both of you." " I do not care so much for myself, for I have always had plenty of hats, and she niver has ; you know that makes a great difference. I wonder how it feels to be poor and to have to n reflet «( knoii "J your I me) ^way "I execul "I so mu( I shou minist( died, woult sea, says WOttlc own, The thoug she spt Heavei of boai that uu >«»c« St.fir^-:'A t BOARDIMQH9CH00L. 148 er he ,ve to reckon every penny you lay out;," sl^o said reflectively. ** Very inconvenient sometimes, as many of us know to our sorrow." ** It must be interesting, though, to count up your money and see how far you can make it go. T mean, after I am my own mistress, to give ^way BO much that I shall know what it is like." " I hope you may live to put your plan into execution." " I am pretty certain of living, for I can do BO much more good in this world than in Heaven ; I should say by tb>^ time there were plenty of ministering spirits, so many holy people have died, you know; if I were to die my money would be divided among my relatives across the sea, who are all strangers to me, and Lindsay says they are rich enough already ; probably th(|y would just put my money in the bank with their own, and it would do no good at all." The teacher smiled, but made no reply, al- though it did occur to her to ask Angela why she spoke with such assurance about going to Heaven ; it was not customary in her experience of boarding-school misses to hear them speak of that unknown land. ive MrilHMiaBflMMi CHAPTER X. 8I81EB DORA. The garments were duly received that evening, and Dora was invited to Angela's room to inspect them. To all other applicants for admission, the single inhospitable word, " Engaged," had been spoken. This was all the more provoking to said applicants, since it was generally known that a box had arrived that day from the Pines ; a box from there was an event, for every one of the young ladies was invited to share in its contents, and Lindsay was unanimously conceded to be the best compounder of good things they ever knew. A summons to Angela's room was, there- fore, always anxiously expected. Dora came down from her nest under the roof very joyously in response to Angela's invitation at teatime, for the time forgetting that a small martyrdom awaited her on the morrow when she must appear with the others, when they gathered 144 •11 I BI8T&B DORA. 145 for ohuroh, in her very shabby garmento. An* gtila had her dry goods laid out to tlie bu6t advantage on the table, and when Dora oame in she was sitting demurely waiitng to see the effect her purchases would make. " Oh I what lovely things, and such quantities of them," Dora said, pausing abruptly by the table. " We will look just like sisters when we get dressed alike. People will say, 'Aren't those sisters just too sweet for anything?' That is what I often hear them say," Angela added by way of explanation. " Did you mean some of these for me to wear?" Dora's eyes were shinirg as she surveyed them with fresh interest. " Why, certainly ; I just want yon "^o try them on, and then we will put them away, for I must have a tea-party to-night, for Lindsay's good things may not keep until Monday evening." " What will they say if you buy my cloihea forme?" " Whatever they like ; they will look just as nicely, no matter what they Bay." Angela watched with deep satisfaction ihe effect of the rich ostrich plume nestlii-g amid the brown braids, as Dora tried on the hat ; the 141 BTBTEK DORA. .■■r tomntntion to do ho was too strong, no ninttfll* what tlu-y inif,'l\t say. To see lioiwlf just onco ill a l)W!oiuiiij( liat was Koinethiiif; to ronienil)«r. " Won't tlio teachers bo anjjry when tht>y And yo»i have spent ho much money on nie?" " Miss Hunter was with me, and she seemed t.) think it was a very comfortable thing to have more monciy than one wants for themselves." " I don't think I could lot any other girl in the world but you do this for mo, but then, I do not think there is another girl in the world just like ytm." Dora turned, and with an uncontndlable burst of affection took Angola in her arms, kissing her fondly. . There was another tap at the door, to which Angela responded presently, while she swept hats, boots and garments generally into a trunk, and then bade her guest enter, looking meanwhile considerably flushed and guilty ; concealment, even in a worthy cause, was so foreign to her nature, it was painful to her. Dora was sitting ns far in the shadow as possible, and was not at first noticed by the visitor. " I have another box — a large one — and I want all the girls to come. You and Dora please go around and invite them while I get ready." ■;/'.'' 3^. IJJ*. Ill, II IIIIIIMiBit 8I8TEB DORA. 158 the birds and bees flitting among the trees and flowers — the orchards in bloom, and then with their gift of fruitage — the wide, clean fields without houses and people. I have always been so crowded you cannot imagine how I enjoyed that whole flat under the roof all to myself, the whole night long, until it got so cold." "Next, summer you shall have all the space you want. I heard Lindsay complaining once in house4 SISTER DORA. he is. I get trying to think what Heaven is like when I lie here at night and remember what you huve told me about the Pines ; you know I never once saw the real conntry — »rbere things were left just Vif* God made them. You v.ould not rointl. very much if you knew I was living some- wiiere just as really as I lived here — perhaps more keenly, grandly alive than any one ever is ou this earth, that has no light o' its own." She paused, and turned an <>nger look on An- gela, who was arpiirently absorbeil ia her book, but Dora knew better, and went on : " You sui-ely would not feel baiUy, dear, if you knew I was still loving you somewhere, just as really as i loved you here? That will be ono reason why I shall be glad to die now : I won't ever love any one better than you." " I woidd not care if you did, if only you wouldn't die," Angela sobbed. " 1 used to beg my mother not to die — as if she would willingly have left her only child orphaned," Dora murmured softly. "I understand your meaning," Angela whis- pered. "Won't you promise me, though, to do everything yon can to get well ? I went to the president myself, and told hin. to get the Ik- t doctors in the city, and I v'o*dO pay their bills.' " What did he say ? " with a look of unutter- able affection at the bright, loving creature so eager to hold her back from death. " He said they would do everything in their power for you ; it was wicked to leave you up there in the cold, but they had forgotten you were there." "It was my own fault," Dora said gently. "When I came here I told them how little money I had, and asked permission to sleep on one of the forms in the schoolroom, and take whatever might be left to go to waste from the table for my food. I think they pitied me, for they said I should come to the table with the rest, and they would fit up a bed for me in the attic. It was so much better than I expected, I should have been quite happy at once, if the young ladies had not looked at me as they did ; but then you took me up so soon, and it has been all sunshine since then ; I am so glad God gave me a little bit of brightness before he took me out of the world ; one likes to know something of all sorts of experiences." " Don't let us talk any more," Angela sobbed. « I will go on studying these Greek verbs," she adder!, affair a long silence, when she had got her iteelmgs under control sufficiently to speak calmly. ■■a 166 BISTER DOBA. " Very well, dear ; I will learn them with you," Dofa said patiently, although she felt like any thing just then but wrestling with verba of any kind. In the long hours of solitude, when she bore lier pain in silence, the belief had slowly forced itself upon her that only for a little while would she need the speech of mortals. At first there had been the natural shrinking from death, but by degrees her thoughts had been going out into clearer light, and the world unseen was coming nearer, and she was finding that — " The soul's dark cottaRc, battered and decayed, T^t in new light through chinks dlHciusc had made." The bitterest parting of all was with Angela — sister Angela, as she called her now in her heart. Sometimes, too, in a timid way, when she ad- dressed her, she would say, dear little sister ; but she noticed at such times, the deepening color in the fine, clear-cut face, and the quivering lip, for Angela could hardly bear anything now either in speech or manner tliat was specially tender from Dora. She still ta(ked eagerly of the summer time, when Dora was in lie in the hammock in the rose garden, and listen to the robins and swal- SISTER DORA. 167 lows, and all the feathered oreatnrea whose homeii were built in the quiet gardens and woods at thu Pines. Dora used to lie with a wistful, dreamy look on her face, while Angela discussed their plans, as if she were listening to other voice > that no ears save her own could hear, and somc^-inies, it must be confessed, wishing with a melancholy regret, that this great joy had not come so late, but surely she would still bo among the gardens and song birds of another country. One day when Angela had been reading to her from a well-worn copy of " The Imitation of Chi-ist" — which, with the Bible and hymn book, were all the literature she craved — she interrupted the reading by asking, '* Do those small marble head-stones cost much ? " Angela laid down the book and for an instant turned paler than the face on the pillow, which often wore now the flush of apparent health. " Not very much ; did you want one for your mother ? " she asked, as if that were the only possible reason there could be for such a question. *> I was not thinking about her, but I have wished so many times I could have something to remind you of me. I have my mother's wedding ring, and some books ; perhaps if they were sold they might get nearly enough, and you could give 158 BIBTBR DORA. 'r r :" *. soinothing. I would like you to put on it — ' Dora, from niHtor Angola.' " " People that aru alivo and well do not need gravuHtonuB ; and then, it would not be a gift from mo if your own money bought it." Angola spoke a trifle impatiently. " I did not tliink of that ; but you would pay Homothing on it — just a few dollars. Some day I would like you to bring your own little children and tell them about me — how you helped me to know what p. lovely world this is just for a short wliile before God took me to a still better world." " You are not going to die, darling ; you look nearly as well as ever." For some time there had been no mention of death or other worlds, and Angela was growing quite cheerful, and getting accustomed to see her friend lie idly in her bed, all her ambition for study gone. " I shall never be quite so well any other day as I am to-day, for each hour the disease is get- ting nearer the life mark. I am sorry to grieve you, dear" — Angela's head was buried out of sight in the bedclothes now, and her whole frame shaken convulsively — " but I wanted to tell you some things I should like you to think of when I am gone." Shew hand get "Wot some othi ing so mi above it, Oh I if y here you Heaven i gardens." She pai think she " I wil came, low "And\ your heart There w heart lone that brief "Yes." For a wl whispered, sister?" "Ohll looking on No furtb came and I BIHTEB DOHA. 169 Sho was silent for awhile, the thin, trembling hand gently stroking the bowed head. " Wouldn't it be nice, dear, for you to take Botno other girl in my place ? I have been think- ing so much about your home, and the deep skies above it, not shut out of sight by grim houses. Oh I if you knew how some hearts are stifling hero you would let them have a glimpse of what Heaven is like through your green fields and gardens." She paused timidly, afraid lest Angela might think sho had asked too much. •' I will do anything you wish," the answer came, low and brokenly. " And will you always call me sister Dora in your heart ? " There was such longing in the voice — all the heart loneliness of her life found expression in that brief sentence. "Yes." The answer came with a sob. For a while they were silent, and then Angela whispered, "■ Wherever you go won't you call me sister?" *' Oh ! I shall be so glad ; I am certain the mere looking on death won't make me forget." No further words were spoken until the nurse came and Angela was dismissed to her own room. [% : I i 160 BISTER DORA. 'm hS\ mm For her sake, as well as Dora's, the time they were permitted to be together was brief. No doubt the germs of consumption were lurking in Dora's system, received partly by inheritance, and then developed by the lack of proper nourishment, and hardship of various kinds from childhood. It did not take the disease long to com^-lete its work. One morning Angela went i^ usual to inquire for her friend, and was met at the door by the nurse, who told her the end had come. " It is ouriou. that one so young should be able to sense about thugs as she did." " What things ? " Angela apked through her tears. How she longed to know every v/ord that had been uttered, to discover how Death really looked when Dora saw him face to face. " Why, she seemed to realize better than most I see die, that the Lord had died specially for her, and was waiting to take her right into glory^ She wa'n't the least mite afraid. It's curious the way folks act when they come to die." The woman generalized too much to please Angela. "• Did she leave any message for me ? " she asked wistfully. " Yes ; she wanted to see you, but we con- cluded we'd best not waken you out of a sound sU mm mmmm SISTER DOBA. t61 sleep in the middle of the night. It's always trying on young folks, especially when you dis- turb them to see a friend die. She told me to tell you she'd be looking for you all along for sixty or seventy years, and that you needn't be fearing death all your life, for it wasn't much, after all. She kept her faculties wonderful. I believe she'd been uncommon smart if she'd lived. I never watched by one just like her." " Was that aU?" " Well, it's about as much as I can remember. I've a dreadful poor memory for conversation. Maybe I'll think of some more by and by," she added, seeing how eagerly Angela was waiting for some further and last messages from her friend. " Yes, I do remember. Just the last thing she opened her eyes sort of quick, as if she saw more than the rest of u^, and said : ' Tell Angela she will be a sister to a ^^i-eat many. I under- stand more now.' She nevei- spoke again, only to ask to be moved. Like most of the dying, she was restless at the last." Angela shivered. Across her young life Death had again cast his shadow. She turned away, not asking to see the battered case that had con- tained the jewel she called friend, nor did she SISTER DOBA. enter the room again until long weeks after, when another schoolmate had been taken there, and particularly requested to see her. The tomb- stone was bought, and the words carved upon it that Dora desired, and Angela went back to the routine of daily study, feeling a loneliness that all the merry throng of schooUnates could not banish. As th became i made to it, to the flded he than an^ and she i "Wha was the request. "A gi such inte have beei and how ] "You read ; it i anthropio "Is it CHAPTER XI. IN THE SLUMS. As the midsummer holidays drew near, Angela became increasingly anxious to f ulfiU her promise made to Dora, to take some one who longed for it, to the pure stillness of the country. She con- fided her anxiety to Miss Hunter, who, more than any of the teachers, drew her confidence, and she felt sure she would give her good advice. "What an odd fancy for one at your age," WM the rather unsympathetic response to her request. " A great many people do it. I have read such interesting stories about the chUdren who have been taken to the country for a few weeks, and how good and Kappy they were." "You must not believe iJl the stories you read ; it is vasUy easier to be unselfish and phil- anthropic on paper than in actual life." " Is it right to choose those things that are 168 164 IK THE BLUMS. easiest? If the Lord Jesus had done that where would our world have been by this time ? ' *'The case is different. He left Heaven to redeem this lost world ; no one else could have done it." " It may be no one else will help those I am anxious to take to the country. I shall choose the ones who know nothing about what is good." " Why, my dear girl, they will be the worst ones for you to undertake. You have no idea how dreadfully wicked even little children be- come when they have only evil influences sur- rounding them." " You will go with me in search of that kind, for they need us most ? " '* It will be easy finding such ; all we need do is to go to some mission chapel in the worst parts of the city and make known your desire." " Shall we go next Sunday ? " Angela asked eagerly. " Yes, if you are determined ; but remember, I have warned you of what the consequences may bo. No doubt you have many valuable articles about your house. I would advise you to keep them securely under lock and key." "Lindsay will attend to that," Angela said with a objectioi Hunter' Thei her teacj The wa] were des one mer< ized that had to St summer down in among t longed fc "I wo street ? " place yrsii to be in i of it." "The whole life until you The tci she g^lanc sights anc was afrai uneasy. IN THB SLUMS. 166 with a smilo, well knowing that Lindsay's objections and forebodingpi would exceed Miss Huntei's. The following Sunday afternoon Angela and her teacher started out on their mission of mercy. The walk was a long one, through streets that were desolate enough to cast a shadow over any one merely passing through them, when they real- ized that thousands of women and little children had to stay in those pent-up places day and night, summer and winter, until the weary bodies lay down in the deep sleep, finding a rest at last among the green trees and g^rasses they had longed for, but longed in vain. " I wonder will some of them come from this street ? " Angela shivered as she spoke. The place was so dark and vile it seemed a pollution to be in it at aU. '' I am so glad Dora thought of it." '*The poor thing knew all abont it, for her whole life had been spent in such places as this until you knew her." The tears were standing in Angela's eyes as she glanced around timidly. There were such sights and sounds on every side, no wonder she was afraid. Miss Hunter, too, looked a little uneasy. *C&1I IS THB BLUH8« " I am afraid I have done wrong in permit- ting you to come here, running such risks." "What risks?" She heHitated, and then said evasively, " Well, one risk is the taking children from such places to your innocent home." "What do you think the Lord Jesus would say if he were walking here with us to-day, and coidd tell me what to do? " " I expect He would advise you to do just what you are intending to do." "Don't you think He would say that clean houses were not worth so much as human souls for whom He died?" You know 1 may teach them to love Him. I shall try to." They reached the chapel at last. It was located in one of the worst streets of the great city. The faces they saw watching them through the doors and windows were sodden and evil, in keeping with the vile, ill-smelling place where they burrowed. It was with a feeling of relief they gained the shelter of the chapel, as if they had got back to humanizing influences, and the light Christianity sheds. Angela turned and looked back through the dreadful way they had come. <* I expect all the world would be just like this ) n permit- ks." " WeU, ich places BUS would 0-day, and > just whbt that clean iman souls may teach ;. It was if the great em through and evil, in place where ag of relief , as if they }es, and the through the lust like this '^ IS THE 8LUMB. 167 if it were not for our pure religion," she said reflectively. "Don't you think it very strange that Christian people can sit quieUy in their homes while they know they have such neighbors? " « What can they do ? These p 3ople have the same chance in the world that the rest of us have; it is their own fault that they are so wretched." " If they were bom here and don't know any better, how can they help themselves? The people who have the best chances to be good find it hard to keep straight always, so what can we expect from these ? " " Well, it seems that we need not expect any thing but what is evU from them or their children. If whole colonies of them could be transported somewhere out of reach of the better class of humanity, it would be a fortunate thing." " Death is exporting them somewhere out of our reach every day, but I believe it is as much our duty to make them good men and women as it is to try to be. such ourselves." Angela spoke in a hopeless way, however, for the oaths that were every few moments borne to them on the heavy, languorous air were discour- aging to so youthful and innocent a reformer. When they entered the chapel they were sur- 1G8 IN TUE BLUMS. ■ In prii ' to fi^ 1 it 9Uoh a cheering contrast to fch< , v«t> . io'f its intr ior was as plaiu as MJ«»6* !, ', if'v- ' t usually are, its sole ornamonta- tio. a iov. «i\c*;> pictures and mottoes. There were painted f or . \ small platform with read- ing desk and cane-seated arm chaurs, a large stove near the entrance, and that comprised its entire furnishing. There was a fair gathering of children, dirty, ill-clad, and, for the most part, ill-looking, Angela decided after she had taken a hasty survey of the room. A young man was presiding at the desk, and a pale, tired-faced girl whom they afterward dis- covered to be a missionary among the people here, sat near him. There were several other young men, and a few middle-aged women, sitting with the different groups of children, presumably their teachers. The young raau who seemed to have charge cordially welcomed the new-comers, while they were critically surveyed by every boy and girl in the room. Angela returned the gaze quite as critically, since she had considerably more anxiety on the matter of appearances than they. Miss Hunter made known their errand at once to the superintendent, who showed more ex- pressively by his face than words, the mixture of surprise and pleasure he felt. ^:-- nr THE BLUMS. lee " How man- Bho^' you take, and how long are they to stay with you ? " he asked. "I had not thought about it particularly, but they can stay until they get tired. I would pre- for the poorest ones, who most need a change. "Probably if you keep them until they get tired they wiU never return. That is the usual experience of the few who get a chance in the country for a few weeks." « Won't two do to begin with ? " Miss Hunter 4tWe have room for a score, but Lindsay might object to so many," Angela responded cautiously. ,., , » One could not blame her if she did; a dozen of these let into a country house would work more mischief in a week than could be repaired in a twelvemonth," "You would be surprised how well the ma- jority of them conduct themselves, when they are sent to the generous people who volunteer to take one or two for a holiday in the country," the superintendent said gently. "How many had I better invite?" Angela turned to him with an air of relief ; he could de- cide better than any one. "I would suggest two to begin wich — but, ' -I • ISr THK BLUBfS. excuse me, will your friends be willing for you to take these city waifs?" " I ha\ ^ no one to consult save my housekeeper. I am quite certain she will object to a single one, HO I might as well have trouble with a good many as only one." She spoke with the calmness born of certain conviction. The superintendent smiled, but said nothing farther by way of remonstrance. " There are two that I would like you to take if you are not anxious to make the selection yourself." " Oh 1 no, indeed ; you are the best judge in the matter." " They need help about as much as any, and they are as good and trusty as any in the school — a brother and sister. Perhaps you are not v/illing to include boys in your charity," he added, seeing the quick glance of surprise she bestowed on him. " I did not think of taking boys, but if you think best I will take one. I dare not venture on two." Lindsay's possible wrath at even one was making her quake already. " I shall not ask for any more, but you will find this lad easier to conti-ol than most of the girls. He is a fine, manly fellow, much superior to his sister, but I could not separate them. He ji>MB»IH>iili II I ■jam'lii II i"'«ii' ""■■tr" »;si5:,s'?"i£' IV THE BLUMS. 171 .<; >r you I teems to have quite a fatherly care over her, and I know he wouhl not consent to go without her." " Have they no parents? " *' No ; they are orphans, but were well trained while their mother lived, and were under good home influences. It ic the old story, too often re- peated, of persons unfitted for the struggle for life in a city, coming here to earn their bread with no proper way of doing it. The father's health failed in the country and he came to the city thinking to get light work suited to his strength, but he died very soon ; his wife had no trade — could play on the piano indifferently, paint in much the same way, do fancy work that no one cared for, and that was her equipment for success. She did not long outlast her husband, leaving these children to care for themselves." "Are they here?" Angela asked, the whole miserable picture passing quickly before her mind. " Yea ; do you see that little girl just in front by the lady in gray? Her eyes are fixed just now very atlmiringly on you — very sharp black eyes, if you stop to examine them." Angela nodded her head, too much interested in studying the face of her new child to otherwise respond. The boy was next pointed out — a fine, open-faood lad with blue eyea, bruad forehead ovtir whidh the brown curlH chistorcd vory prettily Aii<;ola thought, but the fuce watt painfully hun- gry-looking and pinched. IIow thonu thin eheekn wouhl round out on tlin> well-eooked, abundant food at the Pines I "Who takes care of them?" was her eager inquiry I "They mostly take care of themselves. We give them soup tickets and what cast-off garments we can spare, and they have to attend to the rest thuniHelveH." " Where do they live ? " "Anywhere they can flnd*a place to sleep in. They usually come here to eat their bite and to warm themselves ; it is the only home they know. When nothing else oifers I have let them sleep here. I could not turn them out on a freezing night, without so much as a blanket to wrap around them." " Please do not tell me any more now." Her eyes were full of tears, her lips quivering with suppressed emotion. " You would soon get used to such things, and you would be surprised how happy they are over such a little thing, and they remember pleasures so long — I mean all of these children. We are , " riiirn i r i mirr '•""""' •"'•" -"^ ead tily inn- !pk« laiit iger We BDtfl rest ' in. 1 to low. leep 8ing Tap Her irith ' And ver ires are TK TirE BLUMS. m planning to take them all to the Bea«hore Home day tluH Humnter, if we uan afford it. Some of your rich pooplt* who ox|N*ct to cfo to Euroiw, luid to Hpoiid thouHandn of dollars on the trip, do not look forward to it with a tithe of the itatisfatttion that these uhildrcn do to that one day in the country with al' tlie gooointing them for such a small sum. I will ' be glad to supply the money." She had her i>ocket-book out in an instant, and the money placed in his hands be- fore he had time to recover from his surprise. ^^ I wish it might take place before I go home ; I should like so much to aocompany them and see their enjoyment. I would take flowers and confectionery, and I am sure Lindsa}' will send me a box from home — they would enjoy her good things so much." " We will go whenever it is convenient for you. I will tell the children now what you have done for them." He touched the bell, which was the signal for the teachers to suspend operations, and then acquainted them with the gift they had just re- ceived, and the way it was to be expended. A low murmur of approval broke the stillness, with a few involuntary ejaculations that sounded very much like " golly " to Angela's ears. Her face now was shining — the sweetest face he had ever seen, the superintendent decided, as he glanced at her. " If there is any particular day you would like to go you might name it now." " Any time before the first of June will suit me — that will be too early for them to take their trip to the seashore ; perhaps it is selfish in me to want to have it so soon." '• Certainly not ; the bit of travel will prepare them for the heat and misery of the summer." " I mn,y be able to get some of my fi'ien'ls to go with me and heip to amuse them." mmn rs and I send oy her snt for >u have signal d then ust re- ed. A is, with Bd very !st face ided, as tild like rill suit ke their L in me prepare aer." en'^.s to IN THE BLUMS. 176 •' Thfj do not need any help for that. Just to be let loose on a bit of sand by the seashore where they can make pies and wade in the water, is all they want ; you would think they had spent their lives at such work they take to it so naturally." " I am very glad we came ; perhaps I can do a little more for your mission. Would part-worn clothing be of any service?" " It certainly would be of great help. Noth- ing coi:?es amiss here." " May I come again and see my own children? I might bring tbam something," she hastened to add, as if by so doing she would ensure a welcome. "You will not wish to come any more than we shall all want to see you ; and henceforth you will be perfecdy safe coming here day or night ; the people will be true to you." .'Is it not safe now?" M'"'. Hunter asked, with some anxiety. " Not particularly so after night. We have a rough crowd around the chapel. It is no use building them in respectable localities." " We had better leave at once before the sun goes iown," Miss Hunter said, with some appre- hension in voice and face. Angela cheerfuUy responded; and then they 176 IN THE SLT7MS. shook hands with the superintendent, who gave them his card, when they found his name was Rev. Walter Sargeant. Angela could hardly wait for the Sabbath to be gone to begin her work. She certainly thought a great deal about what she would prob- ably get, even if she did not begin the work of collecting the garments. At least one dress apiece was a very moderate estimate from each young lady when they had been wearing out dresses all the year, and the most of them had so many changes. There were nearly a himdred young ladies in the institution, hence she felt there was a good prospect of that special mission being supplied with garments for this season at Ifcust. After school the following day she began her campaign, and succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations. Miss Hunter accompanied her through the unsavory streets the following Sunday afternoon, when she went to give in the report of her successes. " If we had a few helpers like you we would be a self-supporting mission in no time, and could revolutioniae matters in this section of the city," Mr. Sargeant said admiringly. " I wish you could ne some week day — on a Saturday, for instance — and see the good people at work on IN THE SLUMS. 177 the articles you contribute. Kind ladies come here two afternoons in the week to work for the children. From what you tell me they will have no lack of materials for some time to come." Angela looked eloquently at Miss Hunter. " If I got a cabman to bring me here would you allow me to come ? " she asked anxiously. " I do not think we could permit you to come here alone, under any circumstances, but I will accompany you." Angela waited until they were alone to thank her teacher. The garments were made up into bundles and sent, nothing short of a furniture van being large enough, Angela assured them, to convey the dry goods to their destination. She and Miss Hun- ter went on the following Saturday, and found a party of ladies busy at work, some of them ladies of wealth, who had been connected with that mission for years, but not one of them had con- tributed to it, outside of their personal services, anything like the amount that Angela had done in less than a fortnight's time. She had a genius for giving herself to others, while she worked with the inspiration that only love can give. :«.^.i,' p CHAPTER XII. soft Motl mer : as tb BY THE 8EA. The day appointed for their excursion to the seashore proved to be rainy. To say that a good many were disappointed would mildly express the grief experienced that day by scores of the children, but probably every rainy day brings disappointment to some one or other up and down in the earth. Of course the picnic had to be indefinitely postponed, since one is never sure when the weather will be in a sunny mood, io add to Angela's impatience, there was a good- sized box that Lindsay had sent for the children. The fine day, however, cam? seasonably, even for the delicacies, and the start vas made with great rejoicing. Several of Angela's school- mates accompanied her, and of course Miss Hun- ter was of the party, for she was gettmg very much interested in Angela's benevolent operations. Such a motley crowd as was assembled that 178 seve mg clot ^, ^'>- BY THE BBA. .179 rings down to be sure , To good- Ldren. , even B with ichool- Hun- j very ations. d that soft May morning at the Central Station. Mothers and children were both there, the for- mer nearly as eager for the day by the seashore as the children. The fare was so low even the poorest, by judicious economy, were able to get their ticket, and the fact that they were to have all they could eat free of charge was a matter of considerable moment. They knew it would be good food, and to have as much of that as they could consume in one day, in the empty state generally of their inner furnishings, was an ex- perience not too frequent in their lives ; while the ride through the fresh country air, and the sea breezes, would whet their appetites so that they could manage to pinch along on very little for several succeeding 'lays. Angela's spirits were subdued at sigh' of the pale, hungry faces of her fellow-travelers and the half-clad bodies of young and old. Not that any of them appeared in anything approach- ing the original South Sea costume, but their clothing for a gala day was so rent and patehed, it was painfully suggestive as to what it might be on average occasions. There were little chil- dren in abundance, with sharp knees and elbows looking boldly out of unfortunate holes, their toes and heels presenting, in many caseo, an equally 180 QY THE SEA. %-v inquisitive appearance. They certainly did not need the new style of ventilating shoes for health or comfort either. Whatever was lacking in the garments of the excursionists, there was one thing they had brought with them in great abun- dance — a vast capacity for receiving whatever pleasure might fall to their lot. Some of the babies were crying ; they did not fully understand what was going on, while the unusual tossing they had received that morning jarred painfully on their tender nerves. The people around them fortunately were not such sybarites as to be affected by the shrill remon- strances of a company of infants ; when the cars got well in motion, the little creatures were soon lulled into quiet, nestling contentedly in their mothers' arms, and gazing with round, serene eyes at their unaccustomed environments. The end of their journey reached, the excor- sionists found themselves on a beautiful sandy beach wliich curved around in a semicircle for three or four miles, inclosed by two great head- lands that, on their further sides, were skirted by perpendicular masses of rock, towering several hundred feet into the air. The beach and grasses of the land back from the shore mingled almost imperceptibly. The ground for some distance :rt.- i-l.'> '.Ifl Ih'^f- JMrnSSSm \ •.-,,,j ■■-'^;>i'i^i.i-iw;i'ais«f,. . F .'. 190 MARK AND LUCY. and then she could not fail to be satisfied with his mode of expressing himself. His great am- bition now was to please her. If she could have looked into the darkened lieart of the lad she would have felt less troubled ; could have known the eager thoughts and hopes that were ferment- ing there. She took them into the car. The handsome upholstery and easy-oliairs were an astonishment to him ; as he sank into a luxurious seat he exclaimed audibly, " Golly I ain't this a stunner of a place ? " and then recollecting him- self subsided directly into abashed and blushing silence. Angela heard the words, and saw also the look of shame that spread over his face, and because of this, felt consoled. Mark kept very quiet, only his eyes, by their restless glances, showing how busy and alert his thoughts were. When dinner time came, Angela felt so sorry for the poor hungry things who, no doubt, had breakfasted on next to nothing, that, in spite of her anxiety as to their table deportii.''nt, she took them to dinner. Mark looked around upon the well-appointed table in a bewildered way. How he was to acquit himself creditably among those implements for getting food into the month was a question that puzzled him more than the picking up of the V - MASK AND LUCY. 191 ied with •eat am- ild have lad she e known ferment- ir. The were an uxurious I't this a ling him- blushing the look ecause of aiet, only ving how en dinner the poor :f aated on cietyas to to dinner, appointed e was to (iplements El question ; up of the scanty bite that sufficed to keep starvation away from him and Lucy. It was so long since he had used a knife and fork, at least any knife save his jack-knife, he was certain he could not reflect credit on his new friend if he attempted to use them. She was sitting beside him serenely unconscious of the perplexing question the use of those common adjuncts to the dinner table were to hiui, when a gentle whisper drew her attention. " Would you mind telling them to let us have some spoon vittels? blest if I hain't forgot how to use these things," pointing to the knife and fork at his side. When the waiter brought her orders for the three of them Angela saw Mark cast a hungry glance at the well-filled dishes — a genuine Thanksgiving dinner such as he had seen pict- ured in the illustrated papers. " Try to eat with them; you can watch me," she whispered en- couragingly. Mark was veiy hungry, now that ho smelt the food and saw it so provokingly within his reach, and the temptation was too strong for his better judgment. He took up the knife and fork and began operations, eating at first in a very careful way, his eyes divided between j^ngela'b deft use of those troublesome instruments and the clumsy 192 MARK AND LUCY. way they had of fllipping out of his fingers, hnt aftei' awhile he got so interested in his dinner, for it tasted so very good, he forgot to pay attention to anything else and, before he knew what ho was doing, the knife and fork had been dropped, and he wan enjoying his dinner to the fullest pos- sible extent. " O, Mark 1 what are you doing ? " Angela's voice expressed both disgust and amazement. " Blest if I didn't forget all about them things," he said, wiping his greasy fingers with his tongue, and picking up the discarded implements. His enjoyment of the dinner was marred for that day, after he had stolen a hasty glance into Angela's flushed and mortified face, for other eyes than hers had noticed the way Mark dis- posed of his viands, and a general smile was wreathing the lips of the people around them. They reached the Pines late in the evening. Wardell had come to the train to meet them. Mark's eyes shone with excitement as he sat on the front seat and saw how skillfully the driver con- trolled the shining black horses. It was the first really comfortable ride he had ever enjoyed, such luxuries hitherto having been taken on the sly, or else in some lumbering van, when only for the name of it, walking would have been preferable. MARK AND LUCY. 198 era, but iner, for attention what ho leHt pos- Angela's lent, things," a tongue, 8. irred for iuce into or other lark dis- mile was them, evening, iet them, sat on the riv^r con- s the first »yed, such n the sly, ly for the (referable. Mark and Lucy seemed like children in a dream, especially when morning came. The re- freshing rest of the night, the pretty bedrooms and clean soft beds, the like of which their wildest fancies could not have pictured, and then to add to the wonderland of surprises, the breakfast — genuine cream on their oatmeal and in their coffee, with toast s&turated with butter that had not the slightest tendency to make the tongue tingle, such as their limited acquaintance with butter had the unfortunate habit of doing, and then such eggs, with a flavor that was astonish- ing. Indeed Mark remarked sedately that he did not know there was such a difference in eggs. Afterward, when he saw the hens who had man- ufactured those extraordinary delicacies, and learned that a fairly industrious individual among them could produce one every day, with now and then a holiday to refresh herself, he did not know whether to be most astonished at their industry or the excellence of the article they produced, and settled the question at last satisfactorily to his own mind by concluding that these hens at the Pines were a particularly honest and dainty set of fowls, different altogether from the kind who supplied city markets. They went with Angela, after the dew was dry 104 MARK AND LUCY. on the Bhrul)» and gnws, to the pasturefi and nuule aoquaintuuoo with tho cows — gentle, affec- tionate creatures who stood with meek satisfac- tion to liave their heads rubbed, and even let Mark take a strain of milk from them — tho first time in his life that he rightly understooil where milk came from. They watched the well-fed, frolicsome oalvos — fawn-like young creatures who looked as curiously at the boy and girl as the latter did at them. There wore horses and colts and shaep, and all tho feathered tribes to see, last oi nil the fruit and flowers. Nothing was at its perfection, and Mark could scarcely be made to understand that apples and apricots, pears and plums would in a short time be hanging within his reach from those wooden stems. When every thing had been seen, even to the great, dusky barns where the animals and their food would be stored when the snows lay deep on the land, Mark asked after a thoughtful silence, " Would it cost you a groat lot of money to keep me and Lucy here always ? " " Would you like to stay ? " ^ ■ ♦ ♦' In course we would, and we'd be just as good as wo knew how. I'd never eat with my fingers, nor put my fork in my motith — or which is it I mustn't lick ? I can't seem to remember." \ MAUK AMD LUCY. 195 •» Your knifu hIioiiM never, under any circuiu- Htunoi'H, go into your mouth." " I JJU08H I 'II riH!'l»'«!t now ; unU if you'll let uh stay, I'll tulk the best I know how ; never swear, or Hay golly, but just talk for all the world an you do, and ho'U Luoy." ' ' -• '' " Will you go to school and study, helping Mr. Wardell night and morning ? " "In course ; we'll do anything you want us. Say, does it cost you much ? We won't always expect such vittels as you give us this morning ; we ain't used to much — are we, Lucy ? I could eat a lot less than I've done since I come here. We never et as much in the same time, I guess, only the day of the picnic. My 1 but wasn't that jolly ! " The lad could never mention that day without giving forcible expression to his feeling Angela was silently wiping her eyes. Mark's appeal had touched her heart. "Well, there, we won't say any more about it, and please don't cry. I'm sorry I was so greedy ; and it's awful good of you to let us nicke you a visit. When I m a man and rich I'll have a big house and a horse, and I'll ask you to come and see me." **Mark dear, I am going to keep you here im MAUK AND LUCY. until you are a man, and I sliall educate you, too." ■ The first thing Angela knew Mark was walk- ing beside her, head downwards, and using his hands as a means of locomotion. He righted himself presently, looking very flushed and con- siderably ashamed. " I jest forgot ; I was so glad I had to do something. You won't be mad with me, will you?" "Certainly not; the very best boys do that sometimes." Aneela remembered what skill Donald had in such gymnastics, and anything he did any lad might safely imitate. " I never know'd folks could be as happy as me and Lucy is this morning. Say, couldn't I go to work now ? I've always been used to fur- raging up our dinners before we et it, besides I'd like to pay you back when you're so good to us." " You can come upstairs to my schoolroom, and I will give you a lesson. You must study every day, and after holidays you shall go to school." " That won't be helping you any." " Yes, it will ; I want you to become a noble m. MARK AND LUCY man. To accompliah this you must work Very hard." " I'll do what I can." -, v , > Angela, before many days, was astonished at the way he dropped his uncouth forms of expres- sion. She would have been still more surprised had she known the strict watch he kept over his speech. As for Lucy, she scarcely spoke at all except to answer a question ; but when she and her brother were alone her tongue was as limber as his. They followed Angela upstairs that morning somewhat regretfully ; there was so much to see outdoors, such wonders of beauty in animal and vegetable form which they wanted to get better acquainted with, they found it hard to leave, but if Miss Angela was anxious to have them in the house, why, in the house they would cheerfully go. As the exanjination into their stores of knowl- edge proceeded, Angela found that Mark had some slight knowledge of letters, although he did not know all the alphabet ; but he could tell on the instant the names of any of the newspapers he was in the habit of selling. Their editors-in- chief could not read off the names of their re- spective newspapers more readily than he. He could reckon money or count marbles as qui^^jkly pppjr f0i MARK AND LUCY. as any lad among hia associates, but when 3.it down to a sum in addition it was a profound mystery to him. Lucy was even farther behind with her studies. Angela kept them ^r an hour, and then gave each of them a short lesson to study for the afternoon's ^citation. She allowed them to take their books out in the gar- dens. Mark came in with his perfectly learaed, but Lucy was duller, and the attraction of the new world about them was so strong, making her forget lessons and everything as she strayed through the meadows and gardens. As the summer wore on she took more interest in her lessons, and when the school opened, after holidays, they were able to present themselves much more respectably than might have been expected. Mark could read quite easily in the Testament, he had mastered the multiplication table, and knew enough of the geography of his own whereabouts to pass muster decently in that branch of knowledge. But in those other sci- ences dear to a boy's heart he had made aston- ishing progress. He could drive the working teams of horses nearly as well as Wardell, build a load of hay on the most approved principles as taught by the haymakers, rake and toss the hay and work with the golden grain as well as any \ MABK AND LUCY. 199 rlien 3.it )rofound behind ffiT an rt lesson Q. She the gar- learaed, n of the iking her strayed B interest led, after lemselves ave been ily in the iplication (hy of his ly in that other sci- ide aston- 5 working iell, build inciples as s the hay ill as any country boy to the manner born ; he could climb the trees almost as quickly as the squirrels, pick strawberries, milk the cows, and discover the whereabouts of the nests some of the more secre- tive hens had stolen in the dusky barns, better than the housemaid herself. Lindsay was superintending Lucy's practical education, and, strange to say, indulged in very few complaints against the child. She and Mark were as opposite in disposition as if they had been children of different nationalities instead of the same parents. He was open-hearted, impetu- ous, quick to commit a fault, and equally ready to acknowledge and bewail it, and as generous as Angela herself ; Lucy never revealed the posses- sion of a heart. She was prim in her ways, and went about in such an humble, dreamy fashion one sometimes wondered if she were a child at all. Angela cared very little for Lucy, but her ways suited Lindsay, since she found her easy to mould into a desired pattern. At school Mark took readily to his books, and was able to make his way either with fist or brain, with the best of them. Some of his school fellows made sport of him, for his peculiarities of speech stiU clung to him, and village gossip had become possessed of the fact that Angela Mar- \ a 200 MABK AND LUCY. 'li lowe's prot^g^s were the refuse of the street ; owned by no one, and created, it was supposed, something after the manner that Topsy declared she had her beginnings. The respectable people of Longhurst resented having such waifs and strays foisted upon their children as daily asso- ciates. Mark was too manly to trouble Angela with the unpleasantnesses he met with, but he sometimes found it difficult to keep within the bounds oi truth and satisfactorily explain the contusions and discolorations that frequently dis- figured his face. When, however, she did at last discover their cause, she was considerably dis- tressed. She received a highly colored version of it, and not at all in Mark's favor. She had been making a round of calls in Long- hurst, and at several houses complaints had been made of the vigorous and skillful way her boy could use his hands. Some of those elect ladies expressed themselves forcibly on the risk she ran in introducing such characters into the place. Lawyer Moxton's wife even went so far as to hint that she laid herself open to possible legal complications in the matter. Her own first-born was at the time suffering from the effects of a judicious and well-applied whipping administered by Mark ; a form of dbcipline he had suffered a { e street ; supposed, declared )le people iraifs and aily asso- e Angela 1, but he nthin the plain the lently dis- lid at last rably dis- persion of ) in Long- had been f her boy iect ladies jk she ran the place, far as to sible legal first-born EEects of a ministered suffered a MARK AND LUCY. lack of under the parental roof. Angela was grieved, but she was naturally too just to con- demn the boy unheard. . .■ -^ " I will find out, by some means, the rights of the case, and if Mark is to blame I will remove him from the school ; if not, he shall have the privilege of the best teachers in town, no matter who objects." - She spoke with determination, for her temper was roused against the pride and selfishness of these mothers whose charities extended no further than their own firesides. Mrs. Moxton at once changed the conversation. She was loath to forfeit Angela's friendship — an unwillingness that she shared in common with her townswomen. When she reached home Angela called Mark to the schoolroom, determined to find out the truth of the matter. He looked troubled when she told him what she had heard, and demanded an explanation of his conduct. *' I want you to tell me nothing but the truth ; try to fancy that you are describing it as if you were a mere spectator, and not one of the prin- cipal actors in the mutter," she said to him very seriously in closing. He sat for some time, apparently very busy thinking. At last he asked, "If you find I \ >• 202 MARK AND LUCY. i ill have been a very wicked boy, will you send .ue and Lucy away?" '''- '-' ■''■> ^•!- ^■«?*, -■' >.^;•^^..:: " No, I shall not do that ; bnt I won't love you." " Do you love me now? " the boy asked eagerly, his eyes kindling, and his face all alight with expectation. ,.^>''^ '-> ^^ " Why, yes, Mark, 1 have got to love yon very dearly," replied Angela. " I believe in my heart I sometimes call you my little brother." In an instant his arms wei>e around her neck, his face buried in her bosom, and his whole frame convulsed with emotion. It was the first time he had ever made any specially affectionate demon- stration, and Angela had never dreamed of the passionate devotion that dwelt in his boyish heart. She clasped her arms about him and kissed the quivering lips. " Now tell me all about it, dear ; just as if I were your own mother." "I did not mean to fight, or do anything I wouldn't be willing you should know ; but they made me so angry ; they called me names — beg- gar, wharf rat, and other things I wouldn't speak of to you. And they always struck me first. But I won't fight any more if you say so." " I would rather, dear Mark, that you would MAKK AND LUCY. 208 send .-ne ron't love id eagerly, ight with i you very I my heart her neck, hole frame rst time he ite demon- aed of the >yiah heart. kissed the ust as if I anything I ; but they nies — beg- ddn't speak ik me first, rso." 1 you would be patient with them, for the sake of our Lord Jesus, than for my sake. I could not be there to help you when they were most provoking, but he is always near you ; always able and willing to help you." " I never seem to feel Him near," Murk said doubtfully. "Perhaps you do not ask Him to be near you." " I can say every word of the prayers you had me learn when I came here, and I always say them night and morning — only when I forget," he added honestly. " I want you now to make your own prayers ; just tell the Lord all about your diflBculties, and how hard it is to be patient, and ask him to give you strength to do what is right." " Do you pray that way to God every day ? " " Yes, dear ; and some days many times." " That is the reason you are so difEerent from everybody else. Do you suppose it would make me like you if I prayed that way ? "' " It would make you like Christ, and that would be far better." •' I wouldn't ask for anything better than to be like you." " You will try now to be patient and not to fight any more ? " •»! ^gg^gtg lA^h M«iM 204 MARK ANU LUCY. " I will never strike another blow on anyl)o''rning to love you so well. O, Mark I how haru it is for us to be good in this world. You must not think because you feel happy with me here, that the victory is won. Our life through is one continued warfare, I believe." " Won't it be natural for me to be good when I am a man — come as easy as doing the other way now ? " " Very strong Christians may find it so, but I think the very best have to fight the evil ; even Christ had the temptation of Satan after he pro- claimed himself God." Mark looked puzzled, and somewhat discour- aged. It seemed such a long, long time until he was an old man, when life's temptations would be laid down along with all its other belongings. Angela felt convinced that her conversation that day would bear fruit in his life, he seemed BO impressed and also anxious to do what was right. 3 ' .'■ I'J CHAPTER XIV. BE80UKD FROM TIIK BLUMS. Anotiikr year slipped quickly away. Mark had his trials at school, but no further compla.nts were received either from him or his schooUd- lows Whatever the provocation, he never broke hi« promise, either about fighting or swearmg, and this for a street Arab was certamly remark- able. He liked to como home from school at „;,ht and look Angela honestly in the faee knowing that his promise had been kept. A^er awhile he found it less difficult to keep that promise ; even the most disagreeable people find [t tiresome to quarrel alone, and the stmmlus of calling names, and using abusive ^^-S^^^'J^^' erally beconves monotonous when received silently. Angela was becoming so interested in Marks welfare that she was forgetting the scores of waifs left at the Markam Street Mission many of them in just as miserable condition as his had \ REBCUKU FIIOM THE 8LUMU. 207 ly. Mark Boinplaints \ schooUel- lever broke • swearing, ily remark- i school at , the face, jpt. After keep that people find stimulus of iguage gen- ved silently. I in Mark's le scores of ission, many n as his had been. As the spring days wore into snmiinor, she was often reminded of the wilted ehildreii- drooping amid the fetid atmosphere of the crowded courts, where children seemed to swarm most abundantly. Mark used to talk of his old companions, speculating on the way tliey were getting on, and wondering what they would say if they could see how he and Lucy had grown. Often he would express the wish that they could be at tlie Pines for awhile, too, in order that they might undergo a similar transformation. " You see there is so much room here, and such quantities of everything," he would suy apologetically. "But it is so far to bring them," Angela re- sponded one day to his oft-repeated remark. "They could come for nothing, maybe. I guess the cars don't charge for the Fresh Air children." " We will think about it. If I should go for some, how many would you like me to bring home?" "All that you could afford to have. You can't imagine what a change it would be fpv them, and how they will think of it all the rest of the year. I know how it was with the picnic." When they came to talk the matter over in the \ \ / IS- ' 1 20H ItEHCUKD FItOM TUB HLUM8. fa^tily, it wan found thiit Ltioy wrh nn ntrongly i>p|)4)H«>i' over tliu more oonvin(!«'tl wiim hIiu that it wan. hur duty to follow Murk'H Hu^^fftmtion. Donald waH oxpocted lionm uhortly — tho flrHt viHit ho liad niado Imh parontH in throe yuai'H, and An^i'la naturally wiih aiixiouH to 1h; at homo whon hu oainu. Ho wiih to graduato at tho oiul of that Hchool yoar, and at tho oiid of a briof holiday ho waH going on an oxtondod tour with tho Haine toaohor ho had goiio with tho jirocoding yoarH. Liiidnay Highod liigubriouHly whon Angola an- noiiiuiod her orrand to the city, but hIio had too loyal iiloas of tho riglitH of a nuHtroHs to roinon- Htrato with lior on hor orratio conrHo. Angola waH a full-grown young lady now, and nhould in- Hint on her rights as tho iniHtroHH of suoh a hand- Bomo ostablishment, but nho was so provokingly indifferent about those rights Lindsay used to got sadly out of patience with hor. Angela concluded it was time those children had another voyage to the seaside, so she pro- vidi'd herself with a generous supply of money, in order to do all that might bo in her heart. I \ UKH(;UKI) PKOM TIIK HI.I'MM. 21)1) H HtlOllgly 1^ folk UH (1 not raim) iiioru hIiu vin(!«'«l wuH )w Mark's — th« ftrHt I yoai-H, and homo when i'lul of that holiday ho h tho Haine idinj; ycarH. Aiig«!la un- hIic had too HH to reinou- •Ho. Angola nl whould in- such a hand- pro vo kingly y used to get lose children , so she i)ru> gun to look upon hint uh a moHt delightful fulluw worker. They had their excursion to the Hmall seanidu village. The ehihiren wore permitted t«) make ohoieo of several different ])laoeH, hut without a dissenting voieu they chose the one they had visited hefore. They knew how oharniing that spot was, and ccndd not think the broad earth contained a hotter. To some of them Angela, with her pure, high- bretl face and dainty costume, Heenuove them. In some dim way it brought to mind the story of the Good Shepherd who used to walk among poor, sinful men and women, making Himself one with the penniless and sorrowful. Other ladies would talk to them in a patronizing, and 11 210 RESCUED FIIOM THE SLUMS. also reproiichful maimer, sa if for some unex- plained re:i on they were themselves to blame for their unhappy condition. Very otten it was more of a trial than comfort, coming in contact with these benevolent sisters who worked for them mainly from a sense of duty. The picnic passed off successfully, and Angela kept herself on the alert to make the choice of children to take back for a visit to the Pines — a task she found difficult to accomplish, there were so many hungry faces and half-clad bodies through which grim want peeped at her, that to decide which six appealed most strongly for help was an impossibility. She conmled her perplexity to Mr. Sargeant. He looked surprised -lion she told him what she wanted, and confidetl iiow hard she found it to choose when the choice was so extensive. " You want the most desperate cases," he said thoughtfully. " If I were to describe the con- dition of some scores of children who attend our services, you would find it still harder to decide which was worst, but I think we can get a half- dozen cases a little more desperate than the rest." An hour or two later he drew her to one side and explained that he had made the selection, subject, of course, to her approval. ;. { Isome iinex- lo blame for I it was more 3ontact with i for them and Angela le ehoice of ;he Pines — iplisli, there E-clad bodies her, that to ngly for help [r. Sargeant. him what she 3 found it to isive. ases," he said iribe the con- ho attend our •der to decide ,n get a half- bhan the rest." er to one side the selection, RESCUED FnOM THE SLUMS. 211 "They are' a melanch«»ly-looking Jot, but the wonder is that their heads are above ground at all ; they must have come from a tough-fibered race, or the hunger and ill-usage they have en- dured would have finished them long ago." " Are they all of one family ? " " No, indeed ; the trouble in some cases would be to find any family connection for them. Two of them are kept by an old man ; they live in a single room, on the top floor of a six-storied tene- ment. They call him uncle, but it is doubtful what relation they bear to him. They may pos- sibly be his own children ; one never can tell about these wretched creatures. He is an.iious to get rid of them, and treats them at times very cruelly. Another, a girl of ten, lives with an old hag in a cellar. She, too, is cruel to the child. We sometimes see marks of brutal treatment on her gaunt body. She does not look to be more than six years old, and is nothing but skin and bones — and no wonder ; she is always half- starved. If you could get a home for her some- where in the country, it would be a mercy — or indeed for any one of them. Two of the others are slightly better oflF. They live with their father, who is an easy-going, good-natured creat- ure, but too idle and shiftless to earn more than BKSCUED PROM THE SLUMS. I the rent of the single room they occupy, and t!ie merest bite of food, beside his own drink — for that he will have. They are what is called profes- sional beggars. Another lives with her mother, a decent woman who does slop sewing, as it is called. She is a consumptive, but with a little help manages to keep soul and body together, after a fashion. I brought a seventh, thinking you might want to take some one in the place of little Annie Murphy — she is such a desperate- looking child. The last one is a lad of more - than average ability. He will ue one thing or another to a marked degree ; not a milk sop, I assure you. If he could be surrounded .with right influences I believe he might make a noble man ; if not he will join the ranks of our dan- gerous classes." "I think you have made a very judicious selection." " You may not think so when you see them ; but if they are too' hard a crowd you can choose others. I merely told them to come here, but did not explain for what purpose I wanted them." They had only a few steps further to go when the list was concluded, or rather the description of them, and Angela stood face to face with the crowd who were to be her guests for a couple of BESCUEB FROM THE SLUMS. and tlie ik — for )d prof es- mother, as it is a little together, thinking place of esperate- of more thing or ilk sop, I ided yrith le a noble our dan- judicious see them ; ;an choose here, but bed them." > go when lescription e with the t couple of months at least. She had hastily decided when she took in the sorry-looking party that it would take at least two months of dieting to fill out those wrinkles, for Mr. Sargeant's description of their desperate condition had been, if anything, underdrawn. Grim want stared at her through the white, pinched faces, Lhe shriveled limbs and tattered garments of the seven waifs who looked into her face with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. 'v . ^ •.,- " I will take these." , , ^^ ; : ' , ; " All of them ? " Mr. Sargeant asked 4i«ckly. " Yes ; they all look as if they needed a change ; but we must get something better for them to wear. I will buy the material, and per- haps some of your helpers will assist me to make them some garments." "We will attend to that part of the work very thankfully. You must not think because these look so bare that we needlessly neglect them. If we began to clothe the children during the warm weather, the parents, for the most part, would leave everything for us to do, and then find fault at the quality of clothing supplied." Angela was looking too intently at the children to pay much heed to what her companion was saying. V 214 RESCUED FROM THE SLUMS. ** Should you like to come home with me to the jcountry for a few weeks ? " she asked. " You shall have plenty of good food and green fields to play in." " Yes, mum ; we would," some of them found voice to reply. The others nodded their heads, but their faces expressed the satisfaction they could not frame into words. The seventh one, who answered to the name of Patrick Canty, looked more rejoiced than any of them, perhaps because his face was more mobile and could bet- ter index the sentiment of his heart. Angela was particularly taken with him from the first. " We shall have you some new clothes in a few days ; as soon as they are completed we will go to the country. Mr. Sargeant will remember your names, and see that none of you will be left out. You can go now and play with the others." Angela turned and walked away with Mr. Sargeant, the prospect of having those pinched faces about her for several weeks already making her feel uncomfortable, but if she could have realized the strange, and before unknown thrill of joy that she had set pulsating in those youth- fid breasts, her own heart would have been lighter. The band of workers who had adopted this V BESCUED FBOM THE SLUMS. 215 ith me to i. " You reen fields lem found leir heads, Btion they renth one, ck Canty, n, perhaps could bet- fa. Angela the first, tes in a few we will go remember will be left ;he others." with Mr. >se pinched idy making could have nown thrill hose youth- have been ^opted this special mission as their sphere of benevolent labor, entered so heartily into getting the chil- dren ready for the journey, that before a week had elapsed, every boy and girl was fitted out with a new suit of clothes. Angela was glad to see the work go on so swiftly. As she saw mora of her band of seven who haunted the mission chapel continually, ostensibly to be on hand if their garments needed fitting, but really to watch the fascinating work going on, she felt eager to get them away where fresh air and wholesome food abounded, to see if it would be possible to get those sharp bones hidden, and that famished look taken from the wan faces. The morning came at last when they were to leave. The rain was falling in torrents, and the streets standing in filthy puddles as she drove to the station. She was half-afraid they would not come, and most heartily wished she had provided for this contingency by ordering a coach for them, but when she got there Mr. Sargeant was stand- ing near the entrance waiting for her, while mar- shaled behind him, were seven dripping figures, the hearts of the little girls nearly broken because of the limp appearance of all their bravery of attire. It was hard, the very first hats they ever possessed with new ribbons and artificial flowers. mmmammm 210 BCSCUKD FBOM THE BLUMS. to be 80 soon wilted by the rain. The boys took their wetting more philosophically. As they stood in the chapel that morning, after they had each one indulged in a thorough bath, their old clothes all discarded and everything new and clean put on, they had looked so very fine in their own and one another's eyes, and now they stood there a limp, melancholy group, the younger ones ready to break into weeping at the slightest provocation. But Angela looked so glad, and smiled on them so cheerfully they forgot that the sun was not shining, and their little bodies as wet as they well could be. Mr. Sargeant looked as if he would have given a good deal for the privilege of accompanying them. Two other young men who stood near at hand watched the ill-assorted group with amused and curious faces. One of them looked as if he thought the picture a very fair one — the refined girl in her pretty traveling dress, surrounded by the limp figures who regarded her with the hungry glances of love one so seldom sees in any face, save in some noble specimen of the canine race. The other young man, who was something of an exquisite, and had the vacant look that accom- panies that unfortunate, and very useless class of individuals wore just now a more decided expres- ^ BESOUED FROM THE SLUMS. 217 loya took ing, after igh bath, ;lung new sry fine in now they le younger e slightest glad, and [)t that the dies as wet have given ompanying )od near at nth amused ted as if he the refined •rounded by 1 the hungry in any face, canine race, ething of an that accom- eless class of eided expres- sion on his dull features than usual, disgust and admiration being pretty evenly divided. Angela did not observe either of them. She was too much interested in her charge to see the many curious glances bent upon her, for there was probably not a single pair of eyes but took in the group, of which she was the central figure. People made way for her at the ticket office, and booths where refreshments were supplied to travelers, while the clerks flew around with even more than their accustomed alacrity to fill her large orders. How those fourteen eyes watched the cakes and sandwiches, oranges, apples, con- fectionery, and all sorts of good things exhibited at such places as they went into the bags, and were entrusted to their own hands to carry, for no two hands could possibly hold a quarter pi the supplies she was laying in. Their breakfast, always somewhat limited, both in quantity and variety, had lacked the customary sauce of hunger that morning, for the excite- ment and anxiety lest they might not be on time had made them so eager to start, they scarcely stdppc'i to swallow so much as a cold potato or crust. But now with the gratifying prospect of having something good to eat, they realized very keenly their empty condition. « 218 BB80UED FROM THE SLUMf. Angela, too, was so beautifully unconscious how charmingly she looked among her waifs, and so interested in satisfying their wants that she forgot there was any one save herself, the chil- dren, and the clerks, who seemed to be created for the express purpose of aiding in her benevo- lent enterprises. Anxiety to secure plenty of room in the car made her forget that Mr. Sargeaut was still hovering near, waiting for his share of solace- ment, and which he craved more intensely than the hungriest child in the lot. He overtook her before she entered the car. The two young men who followed them were not particularly sympa- thetic as they noticed the preoccupied air with which she bestowed her hand and said her adieus, although her eyes did light up cordially as she thanked him for the trouble he had taken in bringing the children through the storm. She was, fortunately, not conscious of the keen heart- ache he experienced as he turned away to go back to the dregs of humanity, among whom his lot was cast. Angela got her children bestowed as comfort- ably as possible! although she was considerably troubled about their damp condition; but they unanimously assured her they did not mind that. V : RESCUED FROM THE SLUMS. 219 nconsctous waifa, and that Hhe the chil- be created her benevo- in the car it was still of solace- tensely than jvertook hev > yuung men larly sympa- »ied air with d her adieus, dially as she lad taken in storm. She e keen heart- l away to go ing whom his >d as comf oH- I considerably on; but they not mind that, only so far ah their clothes were concerned. Very soon ''here was a continual buzz of conver- sation from their vicinity, and a very jheerful sound it was, for they were enjoying the contents of those paper bags. Of course Angela wisely regulated the quantity, else they might soon have been sick ; but at her suggestion they ate leisurely, and as the supply was abundant, and t)he demand brisk, they scarcely stopped eating until Long- hurst statiott was reached. When they halted for dinner Angela got them a supply of hot coffee, but she wisely determined not to exhibit her young savages at the dinner table. She hud not forgotten Mark's exploits, the year before, with the unaccustomed accessories of a dinner table. Possibly these children would acquit themselves no better than he. When they were leaving the station that morn- ing, aod Angela was still regarding her charge with a very satisfied and quite maternal counte- nance, the vacant seat at her side was taken. She glanced around at the new-comer, and was surprised, and not greatly pleased to find she was likely to have Lewis Moxton for a traveling companion. He regarded her with bold, admir- ing eyes, at the same time giving expression to his evident satisfaction at meeting her thus un- ■v:,-'. 220 BESCUKD F«OM THK BLUMS. ,_i\- expectedly. They liad Hoarcely conchuUnl thoir grcotingH wlu'ii \w aHkeil ratlior iiiipatifiitly what alio waH goiii}^ to du with that hungry -looking squr ' of chihirvn. " I am taking them homo with me." She Hpoke with a good deal of dignity. The children were already bejjinning to assume a very pleasing appearance in her eyes. " What in tlio world are you taking them to the Pines for? You do not need all of them for servants, surely ? " " No, indeed ; they are going to be ray guests for a couple of months. If we get on harmoni- ously, perhaps for a longer period. They have DO special business demanding their presence in the city." Angela never attempted putting on airs on her own behalf ; when she did for her city friends it was a ludicrous failure, as in the present instance. Lewis's laugh grated very harshly on her ears as he said contemptuously : " Well, no, I should say that neither they nor their ancestors knew much al>out business." " Oh ! I dare say I should not get along any better than they have done if I had only had their chance, probably not so well, as I never could muster courage to sell a newspaper, and I im \ llKHiUTKD FROM TflR SLUMS. 221 uled th«'ir iitly wlmt ry-lookiiig lity. The line a very iig them to »f them for ) my giieHta n harmoni- They have presence in I aira on her ty friends it ent instance. 1 her ears as her they nor uness." jet along any lad only had , as I never paper, and I would he too pn)nd to black people's shoes. Tlu'MO children have followed tlioMc trades priu- cipally. Kiiillv. I have a gn'ut rcHi)ect for them ; some of them have not only earned their own living, Imt contrihnted to the Kiipport of others, so Mr. Sargeant tohl uie ; that is a great deal more than either of us havi- ever done. I don't 8ui)poH0 now that either of us ever really earned a dollar in our lives." She bestowed a very proud look on tlie open- moutlied youths, who had ceased eating long enough to hear the recount of their own excellence. Lewis's face wore an expression of disgust, which ho dare not express otherwise. To think of putting him on a lower par than that desperate- looking crowd was more than he would have taken from a youth of his own sex, and of less jdiysical caliber. He did not deign a rei)ly, and the worst of it was Angela did not look as if one could be given. After quite' a prolonged silence he changed the conversation. "Did you know that Donald WardcU was in this car?" • * ''>■ ';;■:."■'• :";T ;■■>,;;■ .'■^'_:''.' Angela's face turned pale, and then grew rosy agnni. ■ No, indeed ; is he really in this car with us ? " N 229 ui<:h(;uki) kkum tiiu hlumh. ?' YoH ; a few HcatH Imck." An^cln tui'iit'd li<>r heati, but thoro wnn no ono in Hi^ht iiiiHwcring tu thu lad hIiu hud nut aeun for threi) yuai'H. "Do you Hce that fidh)W with tho book in hi» hand - tho ono witli tho brown curly hair, and in hiH Itart! hoad '/ " " Ilow ho huH chungud ! 1 Hhuuld uuvur havo known him." Sho »i)oko wistfully. Tho chang(! in hiH ap- poaranct' wan cortaiidy for tho bottor, but Htill sho rocognlKod it waH tho sa.no faco whon hIio bu< gan to look nioro olosoly, only grown manly — a strong, intonsc face, with a p:)wur not oftun noon in one ho young. The firm, liandHonio mouth Hooinod capable of uttering tho nobloHt thOugh^H, but looked as if no impure or ignoble word could pass from its keeping; the eyes wore fixed on tho book. She could not tell what varying ex- pressions they could hold, but the broad forehead about which tho brown hair was' curling as of old, seemed cai)abl« of holding many secirets of knowledge, of orif^'i.wiiing splendid thoughts that might enrich generations yet to como. She was only a few seconds looking at him, but her gazo was searching, and if she was not a bright stu- dent of books she was clever at reading human |i RKHCUKI) FRUM THK HIATM8. wan no ono lot Bt'isn for )<)ok in hi« y hair, iu»«l never have I in hin ap- tr, but still ^heii Bhc he- i manly — a t often H«eu u»nio mouth (Ht thOugh*H, 3 word could ore fixed on varying ex- uad forehead iurling as of . iiy seerets of thoughts that tie. She was but her gaze a bright stu- ading human fa^on. Tlio nigh that encAped hor lipH unoon- Ncitxisly wan not unnoticed by hor companion, who was wat(!hing her closely. " Do you think him very good looking ? " ♦» He looks very good." ♦' Oh I I expect he is as much of a prig an ever — liardly knows whether he is alive or not, and satisfied so long as lu; has a book in his hand." '' 1 [o has made better use of books than most of us 1 should judgo.by the reports I have read of his graduating honors. You saw the very flattering mention made of him in the papers, I presume? " '* Yes; I saw them," ho said moodily. " It did not surprise me at all that ho gained such triumphs. I expect he will be one of the great men of our country some day." " But he will always be the son of your serv- ant, no matter what ho becomes," Lewis said with weak spite. \tn , " What difference will that make ? only very silly people are concerned about the family con- nections of celebrat';d men. I believe most folk who have faculty enough to appreciate them are so thankful to get them they don't much mind how they were born," Angela said loftily. " You are too ignorant to judge anything about -^•: 224 EESCITED PKOM THE SLUMS. i^.m it.- I can tell you people do think a great deal more about your family connections and position than anything else — only the depth of your ])ocket ; that is a consideration," he said rather insultingly. . " " It must be a very unfortunate thing for you Longhurst people that such is the case. Lindsay says every one there is of commonplace origin. They cannot trace back their ancestry to their great-gi-andparents, any wq.y, without coming in contact with peasants. And even if they were first-lass families they would need to be ashamed of their descendants, and that is worse than the other ;. it is what I anj myself, and not what some old ancestor gone to dust might have been that makes me noble or despicable. I have no pa- tience with snch things. Why, Lindsay don't reckon our Alderneys or Jerseys by their ances- tors, but by their own individual qualities as milkers and butter makers — and it is just the same thing." She ended her sentence triumphantly, but look- ing into Lewis's angry and discomfited face her blaze of righteous wr?th died out directly. "I believe I have said some unkind things, Lew is ; I am very sorry that you provoked them." " I should say they were unkind, and very «ilN :?*»i3RTH^lSl5^W^^^ 9. \ great deal and position 3th of your said rather bing for you se. Lindsay place origin. istry to their ut coming in if they were o be ashamed orse than the not what some ave been that ; have no pa- Lindsay don't ay their ances- al qualities as , it is just the antly,butlook- mfited face her directly, unkind things, )rovoked them." kind, and very RESCUED PROM THE SLUMS. 225 rude, too ; but since you are sorry I won't remem- ber them against you," he said magnanimously. " I am afraid they were not what a Christian should say ; that is the worst of all. Sometimes I think I shall never be a real Christian — one of the beautiful and patient kind." She spoke sorrowfuUy, and with such deep humility any one possessed of a nature not utterly coarse would have been touched by her confession. " I don't think your Christianity will hurt you ; for one thing, you are too hard on society people." • " I like nice, cultured society people — not the ones who only think about what they shall eat and wear, and who they will associate withi One never gets a single noble thought from such people." " Noble thoughts don't help people along much in this world — a bookf ul of them wouldn't get you a dinner." , Lewis's ideas were too ignoble to listen to, and Angela merely responded to his remarks after that with briefest possible replies. His presence had banished all the happy thoughts that had been making the leaden skies, with their copious outpouring of water, almost as cheerful as sunny skies were on average occasions. He left her 5P tmm. If KBSCUED FROM THE SLUMS. presently, saying he wished to see a friend in the smoking car, but he would be back shortly, ask- ing her to retain the seat for him. She did not promise, but he coiild> not believe any sensible girl would prefer Donald Wardell for a traveling companion, and Angela was sensible enough, only a little democratic and Utopian in her views. He did not feel any uneasiness of conscience either at calling a cigar his friend. He certainly felt the need of its solacement to regain his mental bal- ance after Angela's unexpected lecture. She breathed a sigh of relief ai. his departure, hoping his friend might prove so attractive he would not leave him. She cast a timid backward glance at Donald^ and saw that his book was closed, while he seemed to be very intently re- garding that portion of space which she occupied. When he caught her eyes his own lighted up suddenly. Their expression was unchanged, save that she fancied there were deeper meanings in their cidm depths, as if they reflected a mind that had penetrated many subtle mysteries. Bhe fell to studying them intently. She remembered her- self directly, and with her old, sunny smile, bowed graciously. He scarcely waited to re- spond to her salutation, but came directly to her. "How much you have changed, Angela! I it " S-SfSifsif Sn;S8£3l'iS^f*S5 looked down haughtily at Donald, but stood silently waiting for him to leave. When they saw him approaching Donald whispered, "Will I make way for him? " BKT nonsei.se, tly to read ler with on ed to add: 8 gelf. It le who are 8, straining lite beyond a of life as tossible, and simple work simple duty. your Mark >e proud of ) be adopted, for a holiday, r won't forget •et homes for rsation. He id, but stood When they jpered, "WiU BBSCUED FROM THE SLUMS. 281 «'Not unless you wish to; I had rather not have him beside me." Lewis was forced to speak, which he did as rudely as he dare, but Donald was rather too muscular to venture many liberties with. " I will thank you for my seat," he said at last. Angela arose directly, and casting a glance up and down the car, said to Donald, " I see a vacant seat back here." Then turning to the children shie said, " I am going farther away, but you will be just as well behaved as if I sat near you ? " "Yes, mum; we'll be good," they responded heartily, their keen eyes twinkling with pleasure at the discomfiture of the exquisite young man who stood helplessly watching Angela's energetic movements. She was not obliged io vacate her seat, for Lewis gathered himself together and marched with great dignity out of the car. With a look of amusement she sank contentedly down, and the remainder of the journey she was left severely alone by the offended Lewis. She felt very certain his indignation would be of short duration, since it was utterly impossible to offend or snub him. Lewis knew the prize was too rich a one to lose for the luxury of giving way to his temper. 'sT Wfflfc-5.' -•--»«' ■» 282 RBSOUED FUCM THE SLUMS. In the early twilight they reached Longhurst. Warilell and Mark were at the station to meet them with a pair of horsen and great fai-m wagon large enough to hold a fair-sized Sunday-schooL Mark was anxious to have his old associates im- pressed at once with the quantity and quality of pleasures in store for them, and had the horses and wagon both decorated with such odds and ends of bright ribbons and bits of worsted as he could lay his hands on. The team altogether was very astonishing in appearance, but Angela only smiled at her variegated equipage, and nompli- jnented Mark on his industry. Lewis Mpxton stood with a group of young men a little apart from the people on the platform solacing his wounded sensibilities by sneering remarks at the expense of Angela, Donald and their companions. But the merry crowd starting out in the soft twi- light were indifferent to their sarcasms. The rain had ceased at midday, the moon was just climbing the distant horizon, shedding its faint light across the broad band of water that stretched southward for many a long mile, and the air about them had the perfume of multitudes of blossoms, folding themselves softly away now for the long night's refrenhment. What a reve- lation these visions of wide sweeping uplands \ nghurst. to iue«t I wagon y-8chool. iates itn- uality of le horses [)d(l8 and tetl as he ether was igela only coinpli- Mpxton ittle apart acing his rks at the tmpanions. le soft twi- moon was edding its water that ; mile, and multitudes r away now liat a reve- ig uplands BE8CUKD FROM THE SLUMS. 288 and sheeny waters, the perfumed air and dct>p Hilenees were to the city waifs. Patrick Canty sat with his back to the horses in unbroken silence. Could it bo possible that this wide, fair worUl, so clean and still, was made the same as the slums where he had all his life herded? In the clear eyes a new wondering light wa^ shining. Could this be like the green fields and running brooks of the land far, far away they were often set to sing about in the Sunday-school ? He had never rightly understood what those things meant, although he had on both occasions gone with the rest to the picnics by the seashore ; but that place was not like this. Even this world was, it seemed, not all created alike. He wondered if God grew tired sometimes while he was creating the huge pile, and slighted some parts of it — cities for instance. ISew, strange thoughts came crowding into his brain, and, for the first time in all his life, he was glad he too had been given a place among all the teeming existences in the universe. He felt it very good to be alive, and just in the place he was then located. This feeling was in- tensified when they reached the Pines and sat down to the delicious dinner Lindsay had mag- nanimously prepared for them ; iried chicken, f c t ■■*v 114 UEM^UED VKOM TUB 8LCM9. c,.W ham, .W a„a .,«,n vytnW.., an^ .ml. li,l,t lT.,a.l a,..l l.i.n.it. a. it luul n.vcr l,™n to .riviH-.. to ">" >>'*■■ '"» "'"«'"■• "" ' '"',"". ft at ng «" t.„. wM* »«" a my-'^y «,. h.m, but ga,e a ftavor to the .oS« that wa. .ar,.n.mg. V CHAPTER XV. NEW UOMEB. Angela found as the weeks wore slowly away that she had aHSUined a rather tryiug charge. Not one of the children she had brought from the city could endure the thought of going l)a<;k. They were not like the old ladies provided with comfortable country homes, who speedily surprised their benefactors by turning up in their old haunts, their only shelter a wretched garret in the city, with the excuse that people were more company than stumps. To send them back against their will was a task too painful for her, and to keep them all at the Pines waa equally difficult, since Lindsay could hardly tolerate them for a few weeks. ^^•'«»- Lucy also made matters more difficult ; she was inclined to put on airs both of ownership and superior knowledge, that the others for.nd par- ticxdarly exasperating. Mark and the other lads 285 286 MKW IIOMRg. jjot oil with Vfi-y fi-w friK'tiircs of tlut |m'iu'(). IIo hud nuvfi' yt:i bi-oki'ii liirt ])r(tiiiiHi> in tlu> iiiatf«-r of H^htiii},'; tluH, niid thu iiiNtint'tivu fi'vliii^ tliiit tlu'y wt'i'u luH giu'Htrt in part, ki'pt him iroui viohit- lufi tho proprictieH to nny Herioiin oxti-nt, ultiiuu};h hi) foiiiul it trviii^ not to puni.sli tlio ludn iih tiicy richly (U-Hcrvrd, when hu found tiieni iniiid^in^r thoir nuHehiovouH and dostriictivo tendencicM. An;j^«'hi wuH Honu'tinu'H fore«>d to treat with Honio of thu woi'Ht actrt of iuHuhordination, not only to phioato Mark, Init Lindsay, who declared that her gray hairs were gettinj;; bronyht in Borrow to the grave by the doings going on under her own eyes. > The pniiishment meted ont to the offenders was not only distasteful to themselves, but unsatisfac- tory to Mark and Lindsay, who agreed that the offenses were out of all proportion to the punishment. Jf they could have perfectly read the workings of those youthful hearts as they sat in Angela's own j)rivate sitting-room, which slio had lately fitted up regardless of the prevailing fashions in upholstery, but in her own eyes a perfect gem of a room, tlu^y would have discovered that her mode of ])unishnu'nt was much more distasteful to the victims than the corporal punislunent they ■ -^^--^^. y Ai \ ri' .V y 4 ' ^ ' : tf A'-v ?^". g ^ '^^"^A KFAV II0MK8. 2n7 woiiM thr tlic Holt'iiiu U'«tur« tliat tuitlfr ordinary ciri'mimtaiicoH «ili« would have found ahnoHt iinpoHBihlc. An hour Hpiiit in that room with its exquiHite furiiiHliingH, and alono with its fair young uiIk- troHH, who Hat with their hand hidd t«(ndi^rly in her» talking in that horrowful way over their fail- ing» an«l nuBdeeds, made them actually long Bome- time» to he back in the dirty Htreets of the city. There they were at least free from nuch painful gceneH a» this, and while undergoing their torture, the delicious fare at the Pine» that was round- ing out their forms and faces in such a snrpris- ing way, and the fun and frolic that oi-cnpied most of their time when not engaged in mischief, 8i!en»ed a high price to pay. They were not specially i)ad children, hut human nature left unresti-ained for ten or twelve years is usually at the best a very weedy affair. If they had the original "germ o| goodness" the said germ had al)6ut lost its vitality. Angela was beginning to see how vety little could be accomrdished for the children in a few weeks' training, and since they were so opposed 238 NEW HOMES. f4 ' > 41> >'f 1,1 to going back to city life again, she began io look about her very anxiously for homes where they would be subjected always to pure, healthy in- fluences. Accompanied by Mark for teamster, and first ouc and then another of her young visitors, she made excursions more or less extended through the neighboring hamlets, seeking homes for them. She wanted them away from town life altogether, preferring the comjiarative innocence of lonely farmsteads to Longhurst, or places simi- lar to it. Mark knew what the object of these delightful excursions was for ; he enjoyed them for several reasons. Angela was never so charming a companion as when she had two or three with her, sitting behind a proud-stepping horse whom she had cher- ished in her affections from its colthood, and who knew and loved her almost with the affection of a noble dog. What stories she would tell — thought out, probably, as they went along — and with a moral so applicable to the needs of her listeners they were filled with amazement at the similarity of exjx'riences young people have in this world. Then she had a passion for natural scenery, and would, even in the most exciting portions of her story, pause to direct their atten- tion to some surpassingly fair scene near at hand. legan io look where they healthy in- for teamster, •f her young less extended eeking homes roiii town life ;ive innocence ov places siiui- bject of these enjoyed them a companion th her, sitting n she had cher- thood, and who 1 the affection e would toll — it along — and e needs of her lazement at the people have in ion for natural I most exciting rect their atten. le near at hand. SEEKING A HOMK FUK llliU YOUNG VISITORS. 1|. ■ ■■r\- •. HMMMi ■■ 'or some latent r in him ; and ;hing, they are ihem all out to Family. They rreen shutters, ed with green NRW HOMES. 245 trellis-work, and hanging from every window that they could see, were white lace curtains with pink and blue bows of satin ribbon fastened on. There was a white picket-fence all around the in- vlnsure, a garden in front filled with old-fashioned flowers, some of them, like the carnation-pink, junip-up-Johnny. cabbage rose, and sweet pea and mignonette, miking the air luscious with their perfume ; back of the house was a kitchen garden in the primmest order imaginable; a little way beyond this garden was a deep, quiet stream where the speckled trout disported themselves, seldom deceived by the fisherman's fly, for Mr. Ingledorf did not have much of a weakness for trout, a bit of nicely-cooked bacon, in his estima- tion, being much better eating than the finest trout in his preserve. Over this stream was built the milk room, which, like everything else about the premises, was as beautifully clean as if it had just been transported from that famous old city in Holland, where they scrub the very streets. Maimie and Billy were sitting on the veranda, the foimer with a very clean, home-made doll in her lap, the latter gazing longingly at a new jack- knife, while he was trying to study the lesson set for him. Good and quiet as he was, Billy Kay ' nauii i ffiWg^.-^;^,^,.. 1 1, I L.. j| a m,.wi ^ '. -^.., ..-«fe- 'P^Wf'- M6 NEW HOMES. I liii ir I' would have enjoyjnl lu'liifj oiitHido Hoiricwln'io, whore he coiihl whittle, than on that HiiotltmH vcrantla witli wonicnkind and rag haliit-rt ; 1><>- sidoH, hu waH very nnu'ii arthanied to ha raiight in thu daytime in Huch (company. Mth. Inglcdorf wiw Hitting betwoen them, her face beaming with maternal natiflfaction ; to have two Hueh nice children ready made to h«!r hand was enough to fill any empty, childless heart with rapture, ho she de(;ided. Angela's face caught the reflection of supreme content on Mrs. Ingledorf's countenance, hut the five discontented youths who followed her looked anything but satisfied. Mainiie and Billy were dispatched to the parlor for chairs, and wt-re then commanded to follow Mrs. Ingledorf Homewhere to the outlying regions, whence they soon re- turned, bearing a kettle of delicious milk that in any of oui* cities would be sold for the best of cream, and a loaf of frosted cake. Mrs. Ingle- dorf disappeared again, and soon returned with a tray and tumblers, when she pressed her visitors to help themselves, an invitation they responded to so heartily, that on the following fnorning they came downstairs with a very depressed view of the world in general. Angela and Mrs. Ingledorf fell to planning ^ ..M-gTWir.' ■ I .. *' * 11 ' " "■ff' l ' "' lie HoiMcwln'rp, timt HlXltU-HH l to 1)0 cuiight Mi-H. IngU'dorf e iM'umiiJg with two HUC'h nice was enough to fith rapture, ho tion of Hupri-nio ti'uauce, hut the >\veil her looked and Billy were ■H, ami were then ilorf Honiewhero they soon re- louH milk that in for the best of ke. Mrs. Tngle- m returned with eased her visitors 1 they responded [lowing fnorning y depressed view fell to planning NKW lloMKfl. 247 ftlwnt Mainiie's ni(»thor, who would, if all went well, Iw on hand in the eourse (»f a f«w days, while the young folks had their own to|)ics <|uile as interesting as what their seniors were diseuss- ing, while they strolletl arouiul tlie jjreuiises to examine more minutely tiie elegant liome their two companions had dropped into, and then went off for a ehat w'th Mark, who was sitting in the carriage hy the .,ate. Hilly had all Ids life long been an indivi«lual of extremely small importance among his ae- (piaintanees, and to take these from one spot of interest to another, i)ointing out our flowers and pumpkins, and pigs and fowls, lifted him sud- denly in his own eyes almost into a hero, while his companions felt too depressed by what they had themselves lost to atti'mpt taking him down^ a bit. They bade adieu at last to Mrs. Ingledorf ' and her happy family, their own faces so wistful and melancholy she felt like adopting then> all on the spot. On their way home Patrick inquired very par- ticularly if there were any more such women as Mrs. Ingledorf in that section of the country, but Angela, advised beforehand by Lindsay, did not give very satisfactory replies ; they wished to see first steady improvement in his general conduct ! , w^H"" 218 NRW HOMES. hoforc th»>y tiiriiitd liltn adrift. It was aHtnniHh- ill;; what will j)ow«'r ho poHHCHscd. Fntin tho inoiiit'iit wIk'Ii Iu) found that, to a ^ruat uxtunt, ho held in hin own handH hiH futiiru dcHtiny, tho iiiiprovcnu'Ut was ainazi'.ig. To j;o back to tlio ! tarvcd, filthy lif«< of tho city wan a contingency ho could not dwell upon witii (^altnncHH ; utt the time drew near when ho expected the ooininand wouM he jjiven for him to depart, the dumb ]>leadin^ in IiIh faco was adinost more than Angela could bear. She con- trolled, however, her dcHire to tidl him that ho was to stay, Hineo she had rn almost childish do- termination that ho should not only take away with him tho (tontents of tho cat(>chism, but a good deal moro 'didactic literature; Lin Isay assured her if onco ho knew he was to have a phice, there would be an cmd to such effort. The very fact that he preferred the innocent country life encouraged Angela's belief that he possessed the elements of a noble character, if it were only subjected to proper nurturing influences. was iwtoniMh- Kntiii tho cat extent, he ) (h'Htiiiy, tho \y lift! of tho jt ilwoll upon near when ho riven for him hiH face was far. She con- 1 him that he )st chihlish do- nly take away teehism, hut a ure ; Lin Isay was to have a uh effort. The noeent country at he possessed if it were only ucnctH. CHAPTER XVI. TUB NKW DAVID (JllANT. Fob the next fow weeks AnRfla was very busy indeed. Mrs. luKle.lorf helped her, however L, efteetually than any one. She was so loud :, her praises of the two ehildrenwluehAn^ had brought her, that other faru.ers and t . wives in her vieinity were induced to n.ake t ud : Ihem. Besides, Angela had such seductive ways of coaxing the plain farmer folk - hci riners, that by instinct more tban -^^ were so courtly, had "-- -«-7'" ^^^o ^d own actual need in the nmtter. In her lo.nds Imet with so many families that, by shght !^.de„ial, could adopt a waif from the ^um , and make its life a gladness, and possibly a sue- L , that she was beginning to indulge the dream Z it might be.wiso to import a fresh supply of "^' Mo"' the seven were settled now in homes of 249 i 250 THE NEW DAVID GEANT. their own, save Patrick Canty. He had got his head so full of catechism and kindred literature, that he complained to Mark his hat was getting too small. He attributed the enlargement of his head to this alone, forgetting that good solid tissue had been gradually forming on all his ill- clad bones, his head included. He felt it very keenly that his efforts at reformation had received such scant recognition. It was certainly a rather bitter discipline, seeing all the other six going singly, or in pairs, to comfortable farmsteads, and entering at once and heartily into the affairs of their respective ownei-s, claiming proprietor- ship in quadruped and biped, garden and orchard, while nothing apparently was being done for him, and nothing reipained but a solitary journey city- wards at the end of another fortnight, for he had kept faithful reckoning of the weeks. One evening he went down to the edge of the pine wood, and stood leaning against the fence that shut it off from the meadow land. He moodily watched the sunset fading gradually from the far heavens, no part of it concealed from his sight by brick and mortar, when Angela joined him. He had been going very carefully ovor the doings of the past few weeks, and had come to the decision that not one oi them had ANT. He had got his idred literature, hat was getting largemeiit of his that good solid ng on all his ill- He felt it very tion had received ertainly a rather other six going ;able farmsteads, y into the affairs niing proprietor- rden and orchard, ing done for him, tary journey city- knight, for he had ^eeks. ;o the edge of the against the fence jadow land. He fading gradually t of it concealed rtar, when Angola ing very carefully w weeks, and had one ot them had THK NEW DAVID GRANT. 251 been better behaved than himself. He had looked down the long strip of highway that led out to- wards the great world which included also Cooper's Alley, and wondered why all his efforts had been unavailing, and feeling in prospect of passing over that road shortly for the last time, something as a condemned criminal might, as he surveyed the path leading gallows-ward. The effect these musings was having on him was to turn his natu- rally generous nature sour. Angela laid her soft white hand on the very grimy one that was idly A scraping the flakes of whitewash off tl '; weather- beaten fence. " What is it, Patsey ? you look very sober to- night." *• Wouldn't any one look sober if they had to go where I'm going in a few days ? I'd most as soon die, and be buried here in the pine wood, where the birds could sing over me, and the sun and stars get a chance to look down on my clean grave." There was a sound of tears in his voice, al- though the eyes looked steadily down the road. ♦•You need never go back unless you wish." " Lucy told me to-day all the places was taken ; I won't stay here much longer a burden on you. I'd rather sell newspaperb than sponge." "■■ «B". yMi ' " I'*- TT ?3 I ■'H»f.its«.:-:"*»», \ 252 THE KEW DAVID ORAKT. " But if all the places are not taken up I Lucy does not know everything." He looked at her almost greedily. There was such longing in the expresf.ion of his face. " I've tried harder'n any of them, but nobody seemed to care what became of me." The soft hand clasped the grimy one more tenderly. " I care a great deal about what becomes of you, Patsey." " I guess nobody else does, then." " Yes, dear ; there is One who loves you far bet- ter than I am able to — the One who died for you." "But you cared more for the others thar you did for me, even that Billy Kay. I didn't think you'd like Kim better'n me." There was a world of reproach, and even shame in the way he spoke; as if Billy Kay being preferred before him was an exceedingly humiliating experience. " Patspy, what will you say if I tell you I have tried harder to do well for you than any of the others ; that I have got you the best place of all ? " " I'd say I coidd most die for you." There was a passion of deep boy love in his eager, thrilling voice. "There are some conditions you' must first ■'*:;■' ipSK ten up ! Lucy r. There was face, tt, but nobody my one more at becomes of ras you far bet- ) died for you." thera thar you Aj. I didn't ich, and even I if Billy Kay an exceedingly tell you I have ban any of the itpkceofall?" ou. boy love in his you' must first THK NEW DAVID GRANT. 258 comply with, before you can get into this good home." He turned to her eagerly, the tears flashing now in the deep brown eyes, while he seemed to forget a boy's natural shame to be seen weeping. " What are the conditions ? " "You must t!ike the gentleman's name who adopts you." "What's the difference about a name?" said Patrick, hesitating a moment only. " Then it is settled you are to stay. And now, Patsey, what will you think when I tell you I have known about this for a good while ; can you think why I did not tell you? " "Perhaps you wanted me to learn all the catechism, and to see if I could be good if I tried." "Those vren my principal reasons. All the time that you were thinking so hard of me, and fancying that I was not treating you quite fairly, I was planning the very best for you that I knew ; now that is the way God does with us sometimes ; probably it will be your experience when you get to be a Christian, and O, Patsey I you must be one before very long. I believe you might be one to-night if you were in real earnest about it." " Would it make much difference in me ? " I ■'.:-lv l^ 254 THE NEW DAVID GEANT. " Yes ; all the difference there is between light aud darkness." " Would you tell nie just how to ask for it ? " Angela knelt with him there in the gloaming, the somber pines murmuring their melahcholy whisperings above ' them. She talked to God directly of the young soul seeking knowledge of him. *' Can I pray just when I want to, or is it only proper to come to God night and morning ? " he asked, as they walk<3d along the dewy pathway to the house. " We are told to pray without ceasing ; if we hare cares and worries you cannot think what a comfort it is to pray." He merely nodded his head in reply. "Say, if the fellows found it out and made fun of me, would it do to knock them down?" " Most assuredly not. One has to fight them- selves and the Devil, aud leave others alone in that way." " I guess it's going to be a pretty tough job — worse a good deal than the catechism." '* Usually, everything worth a good deal is hard to get. This is woi-th more than everything in this world, no matter how bright it mn^ he." " I'm glad a fellow can pray all he wants ; if \ 4- Int. THE NEW DAVID GRANT. 266 between light ask for it?" the gloaming, eir melatacholy talked to God ung knowledge to, or is it only morning ? " he » dewy pathway t ceasing ; if we ot think what a I reply. it out and made : them down?" las to fight them- ) others alone in etty tough job — ihism." good deal is hard an everything in b it mn^ i»e." ' all he wants ; if it wa'n't for that the likes of me mightn't try. You see I've prayed before this. I did for a home and that was answered, though I didn't much think it would do any good." "Ah I that is where people make mistakes; they pray and do not expect their prayers to be answered. There is something called faith that we must have. Now if I told you I should give you something to-morrow, or take you to some place, you would have faith in me that I would keep my word ; now God wants you to have just tl at kind of faith in him ; besides, nothing ever happens . to him as it might to me to prevent the fulfillment of the promises. He is the only one who is sure to keep his word." "Yes; I understand. Say, isn't He the very best friend one can have ? " "Yes." " I tAi going upstairs now to think it all over, and I'll ask for that with all my might. Good- night." Angela stooped and kissed the bright eager face. The kiss was returned, coming apparently straight from the generous child heart. Patrick was the first one astir in the house the following morning. Lindsay scolded him for be- ing around in the way w> early, but be looked at /. I :' ■ i... . :: iiTiTwilTir.irjTUfniiii 256 THE NEW DAVl GRANT. *Wif' her 80 gently that, in her surprise, she burst out, " Bless me I what's happened to the boy ? " " I believe I've been converted," was the start- ling reply. " Have you ever been ? " " What a question 1 and me a church member long before you was born." *' Miss Angela says there is folks as deceives theirselves," (^ " You'd better be careful you are not one of them, then." Lindsay set the dishes on the table with a crash that made Patrick hastily decide it would be as safe, and probably a judicious move on his part, to go out of doors and wait until a suitable opportunity presenteJ itself of telling Angela how he had sat up and prayed a good part of the time until the clock struck twelve, for strange to say, the longer and more earnestly he prayed, the more anxious he became to get a change of heart, for this really was the burden of his prayer. He was not used to solitary vigils, and sleep natu- rally overcame him, but when he wakened in the morning there had come such strange peace into his heart he sprang out of bed, and kneeling in the soft light of the early morning he thanked God for having become his master. The following day Angela took him to his new w / THE NEW DAVID GRANT. 2f>7 home ; it was some miles away, in a university town, where there was every advantage for an ambitious lad to get a first-class education. The couple who had consented to adopt him were old friends of Angela's father's. Mr. Grant and he had been at college in the Old World together, and the acquaintance begun there had ripened into a friendship terminating only at the death of the latter. He waa professor of mathematics in the University, and was a raai of more than average grasp of intellect, but as simple in his manner and tastes as a child. His own boys had proved the wisdom of his peodiar ideas as to the wise training of youth, every one of them thus far bidding fair to make their lives not only a success for themselves, but a blessing to others. These were now all working for themselves, while their parent* were still young enough to take the responsibility of helping some other person's child along the difficult path of youth. The success that had crowned their efforts in the up-bringing of their own children, made An- gela very eager to have them take Patrick, for she had fully made up her mind that, taken all in all, he was her choicest find among the slums, not even excepting her own Mark. VVA % CHAPTER XVII. ANOTHEU JOURNEY OF MERCY. Maimie's mother came, and the country air and fare proved^ so beneficial, she began to hope that the lease of life had been indefinitely ex- tended. A very cheering hope, especially as her acquaintances had freely volunteered the infor- mation that she was only going away to die. She was handy with the needle, although she had never learned a seamstress's trade, so that the i^mers' wives in the neighborhood kept her well supplied with work, and as she preferred to get her pay in tl'>u30 delicious products of the farm which they appeared to hold so cheaply, she began to long for the society of her child more than ever. Mrs. Ingledorf regretfully consented to part with Maimie, while Angela, coming to the rescue, promised to go to the city, in order to get her the prettiest child connected with the mission. And so, to Lindsay's sorrow, Angela once more started 258 .■<.y ma^aamSim ERCT. le country air began to hope ndefinitely ex- pecially as her !red the infor- away to die. ;hougli she had le, so that the 1 kept her well referred to get ts of the farm aply, she began more than ever, isented to part g to the rescue, r to get her the mission. And ice more started ANOTHER JOURS BY OF MKRCY. 259 on her mission of help. Lindsay was pretty certain that ni. re than one child woidd bo brought h k, and wondered what strange misfortune had overtaken their house, that such doings should be carried on there. Witli her wealth and posi- tion, Angela might be taking her place with the best in that locality, instead of scouring the country back and forth, with a crowd of naked and starving children trailing behind her. It was a most bitter discipline for poor Lindsay, and she used to slip out of church at Lonjr hurst on Sunday mornings, scarce looking to '' right or left, for she was keen enough to obsc-ve what. Angela was too indifferent to notice — i'^at the strange doings at the Pines were subjeoi. garcasm with the Longhurst people. Angela did return not only with a blue-eyed, flaxen-haired little princess of a girl, snatched from the horror and degradation of a girlhood amid the slums, but with a boy and girl additional. And to appease Lindsay, she assui-ed her that, if she had herself seen the cellar where they man- aged to exist, she would have rescued them too. Lindsay gave a groan, but did not give further expression to her outraged sensibilities. Mrs. Ingledorf went into raptures over her acquisition, and the way that fairy-like child was "'^«SftS?H9»"C'^Hlte.i¥ ■ v»'.;i'-s.*s IT i^V\'-'f**.'':VV'; _iJ, L.t^mmmmi 200 ANOTHER .rOUUNKY OF MEIICY. fi'd to baniHh the Hturveil look, wiw exiroinoly ' satiHfactory to the little creature. To have all the milk nhe could drink, and white l)rca«'ef and fowl and ve^ctabh-H, and all the fruits and good thingH generally that are found in the Btoreroonjs of a wealthy farndiouHe, was a revela- tion to her. She was not only beautiful so far as face and form went, but had a loving nature, and before Mrs. lugledorf knew it, she was answering with gnsat satisfaction to the name of mother, which little Flossie began to speak in- stinctively. There was an additional charm about !ier which Maimio lacked, since she had no knowledge whatever of parents or relatives ; she had lived as long as she could remember with an old woman who would not give any satisfaction respecting her orighi. It was some plight consolation to Lindsay when she saw the Ingledorfs, on the Sabbath morning, drive to the church door with their handsome team, and hand out the two well-dressed children. Angela's satisfaction was equally great, but it sprang from a different impulse. Ani-ela began to find her social claims consid- erably extended after this. Her boys and girls, as well as the friends who had adopted them, wished to be visited very often, for each of them - i l UM i i ' *>H M l'» mf<*[ ANOTllKU .lOUnNKY OK MKIICY. 261 Bcciiu'd lis anxious to revolt piof^jn'HH to Iht um if hIu! IiikI Ikm'Ii a Maid ailvist-r of tifty. A f«*w ciicumstauffHownindtliat pained luT, for nt'itlit'i- tluu-hiKlrcn nor the jH-oplo who liad nn-ivcd tlitni intotli«'ir Iiouu'h wcrt- ir HiictH'HH at hv.IuhA. Tiuty houd diHt-uvvrt'd thurt! wuH no Itt-ttur wiiy to gtiin hur appi-ovul than to Itriii^ a good acoouiit of thi'iiiMi'lveH with regard to thtui- HtiidioH : for thu brigiitt'Ht odch hIio iiad not only encouraging HuiileH, but more tangible in'uoin of bur appruuiatiuu of tbuir ufforts to pleuHo her. 81iu did not receive any Hpocial consolation beeauHu of her work from LonghurHt Hoeiety ; it waH Mo critiuiscd, and the surpriHo at the oddneHB of her taHto ho outspoken, HJie uaually wended her way homo from a round of calls, in a very depressed state. Wardell and his wife were almost the only ones among her old acquaintances who encouraged her, and to them she used to go for sympathy whon most discouraged. Donald too seemed to think it might be better superin- tending the wise development of a score or so of youths, than to be devoting all her powers of brain, time and money for her own furtherance ; this from him was just the encouragement needed. The hint let fall that she might increase the number of her beneficiaries had a stimulating effect. Strange to say, she saw very little of him on this visit of his. He seldom came to the Pines and, for some reason or other, she as seldom went ▲MOTHKB JUUUNEY OF MKBCY. 268 to tliu WanUOlH* (tottago ; nvitlivr aid nhu nioct Ii nil miproviil tliiui [■H with regard JoiicH hIio had noro tangible I'urtH to plt'OHO 1 coiiHohition rst Hoeiety ; it at the oddneHS iiially wondud in a very Ills wife were acquaintances she used to go aged. Donald better superin- a score or so her powers of rn furtherance ; gement needed. it increase the a stimulating ry little of liim me to the Pines lis seldom went at any stM-ial gatherings in the town. Although, OH a Htudcnt, he hud taken a higiier poHition at college than any young man belonging to Long- liiii-Ht had ever done, yet he was not any more noticetl by the leiulers in s(MMety there than if he HimI been a farm servant. They held tenaciously to their rights, and since they hud no other special gifts of which to be vain, save wealth and social position, it was very judicious on their part to make much of their limited belongings. It is a curious fact that the more ignoble the nature the more * ' ress is laid on the a(!ciecial sacrifice liture had not ih asa ribbon, for people to ^med to her a )f them to en as her own? t so fearlessly, r her absence. week to week, , lately so wan Qclusion there ited to her in > grand recom- re it. IV home. Mr. infident of the e did himself, us for him as I. Mr. Grant 1 the expecta- course, while ANOTHER JOURNEY OF MERCY. 267 the lad himself was fully as eager as any of them to be a scholar as well as Christian. Mrs. Grant mothered him as tenderly as if he had been a grandson, and not one of her own children ran the same risk of being spoiled through over-indul- gence; but the Spartan training of his early years kept him robust-hearted, and besides, his was not one of those nature? apt to be overcome by luxury. Angela was proud of him, and many an excuse was urged why she should make a trip to Barnsley, where the Grants lived, just for the pleasure of seeing her promising boy. She had him pretty well convinced that he was destined to be a missionary, or preacher of some sort, instead of a farmer. The task was an easier one af tei* Patsey had been given an opportunity to compare other modefi of li> Ing beside that of agriculture, with the exist- ence he had endured in Cooper's Alley. Mrs. Grant used to assure her, as time wore on,' that the new David Grant bade fair to attain a per- fected manhood only second to that of his hono- rable namesake, for, like nil true wives, that woi-thy lady was blind to any shortcomings, intel- lectual or moral, in her husband, and was certain the first prize among men had, in some unac- countable way, fallen to her lot. ii '7 \ 268 ANOTHER JOURNEY OF MERCY. Angela had felt so jubilant over her success in getting homes for the seven previous importations,' she reasoned that it would be perfectly safe in- vesting in a couple more, a decision warmly en- couraged by Mr. Sargeant, who assured her if there were a score or two of ladies like-minded and successful with herself, their work would be at an end in that part of the city. She made a more careful selection this time, securing children that were without claimants of any kind, and having special regard to their personal appear- ance, as she found that well-favored faces were more likely to go off readily. There were now twelve children less exposed to the temptations and pinching want of the city. "What a gladness* it was to her as she thought of them in their clean, moral homes, getting trained for lives of usefulness; brothers and sisters all of them, she claimed in her own se- cret heart, losing thereby the sense of loneli- ness that ha'i iiaunted her ever since the death of her fatli'M'. -v^'. » ERCT. her success in I importatious,' fectly safe in- [)n warmly en- assured her if ;8 like-minded vork would he She made a iuring children .ny kind, and rsonal appear- •ed faces were D less exposed ant of the city. SIS she thought homes, getting brothers and in her own se- ense of loneli- since the death CHAPTER XVIII. A PROMISE. It was Donald's last day at home, and Angela resolved to break the cnist of coldness that had in some unaccountable way settled upon their friendship. He had scarcely come even to call at the Pines, since his return, unless the brief visits paid to the library could be called such ; he would slip in there, usually when she was absent from home, and stay sometimes for hours. •' He don't make as much noise as a mouse, and only that I let him in I wouldn't know he was there," Lindsay complained, for even she would have enjoyed seeing something of the human side of the young man ; but no doubt she respected him, like lyomenkind in general, for the cavalier way he treated her. She was opposed to anything like sycophancy, and could be easier won by apparent indifference than the opposite. It was one of those steady downpourings from 260 Zl. •I?-'-'' 270 A PBOMISE. 'I the overflowing clouds that often come to us in the heart of summer, fnid that seem to refresh all created things. Lindsay remonstrated with her when she saw her come into the room pre- pared for a walk ; Angela's voice was low and a trifle unsteady, as she explained where she was going. " You need not be nneasy if I do not return directly ; perhaps I may stay for tea." Lindsay received the intimation in silence. Angela was so indifferent to the attentions of young men in general, and some half-dozen or so in particular, foremost among the number Lewis Moxton, that her shrewd handmaiden began to wonder if the girl had not given her heart long ago to the companion of her girlhood. She never let fall a hint of her suspicions, lest by so doing she might put fancies into her mind, just as well not dropped there. When Angela started out into the rain she was seized, for the first time in her life, with a feeling of shyness at presenting herself at the Wardell cottage. As she passed down through the drip- ping meadow path, her step was hesitating, and when half-way there she was possessed with a de- sire to tnrn about ; but what excuse had she to offer Lindsay or herself either, for such unwar- come to UB in em to refresh )n3trated with the room pre- ivas low and a trhero she was do not return |3D in silence, attentions of alf -dozen or so number Lewis iden began to icr heart long )d. She never ist by so doing id, just as well he rain she was , with a feeling t the Wardell uugh the drip- hesitating, and ssed with a de- ise had she to r such unwar- A PROMISE. 271 rantable conduct ? She compromised the matter by resolving not to remain for tea, much as she would have enjoyed one of those teardrinkings, so rare in her experience, with Wardell convers- ing about some hero of whom he had been read- ing, and Donald uttering an occasional remark, Mrs. Wardell meanwhile looking anxiously over her " specs " to see that every one was attended to, and Jessie, the last one left at home, adding her slim quota to the general fund of entertain- ment. Imagination was so busy picturing the possible scene, she was at the door before she realized where she was; any other world had been shut out by her umbrella. It was a timid knock that asked ac' fn+viice, and almost directly Donald stood waiting xor iier to enter, while before she knew what they were about, her dripping wrap was laid away,' and her favorite easy-chair drawn up before the fire in the keep'nj;;-room, for the day was chill, as well as damp, and Mrs. Wardell had a horror of damp rooms and garments. They had a good many ideas and items to exchange, so that there was no danger of the conversation lagging ; but Mrs. Wardell and Jessie were soon compelled to see about the supper that was destined to be. a supe- rior one, from the double importance attached to it 272 A PROMISE. — Donald's last at home for. an indefinite period, and Angela's first in a good many weeks. An- gela cared very little for the supper, but she did care a great deal for the privilege of sitting there in that cosey room alone with Donald. It seemed even better than the old times when they used to crouch together on the damp ground at the foot of a decaying tree, watching, on his part more especially, with absorbing interest, the movements of some tiny creature, rare from its excessive ugliness. She fell to wondering at last if he en- joyed sitting there with her as much as he would to have some hideous creeping thing with scales and a multiplicity of legs and eyes; she could not make free enough to ask him, however. He busied -himself showing her the books he had been studying during the holidays, and some specimens he had been so fortunate as to find ; but she noticed that he did not once look into her eyes. He seemed anxious to be moving back and forth with a book or bug in his hands, and not as much inclined as she would have particularly liked to sit near her, telling his plans for the future — if he was still bent on having that house in the woods ; how idyllic it seemed as she sat there, the mist like a heavy curtain shutting out the great, indifferent world. She fancied there indefinite period, imny weeks. An- ippcr, but she did je of sitting there 'onald. It seemed when they used to 2prouud at the foot on his part more est, the movements from its excessive ig at last if he en- much as he would thing with scales d eyes ; she could im,, however. ^ her the books he holidays, and sonie tunate as to find; fc once look into her le moving back and lis hands, and not ! have particularly his plans for the 1 having that house seemed as she sat irtain shutting out She fancied there A PR0MI8B. 273 could be nothing so delightful for her in the future as to be permitted some time to visit him in tliat house of his, and listen to him speaking to her in that low voice. Donald was not willing to-day, apparently, to talk with her about anything human or natural. Pie took scant notice of her timid efforts to lead the conversation back to other days, or to the plans be was laying for the future ; but still he was very gentle with her. She was puzzled and even hurt that he held himself so resolutely from everything that might seem like a revival of the old intimacy ; so far as the topics he permitted, she might have been his tailor, or some wrinkled scientist. The mo- ments were passing so swiftly, and, alas, each separate one seemed more precious than anything on earth, for to-morrow Donald would be away, to return possibly at some distant period even more estranged than now. She ceased to pay much attention to his remarks, merely replying with a yes or no, as the exigencies of the subject he was discussing might require. She would rather have him sit near her in silence, than talk on subjects that seemed to lift him out of range of her ideas and sympathies. She thought of Dora, while the tears came to •^J 274 A VUOMISE. hor fiyes ; Dora who wtiH ho clt'vev, and yot loved l>er HO dearly in spito of her literary inaptitude. It did not seem neeoHsary to try to conceal her oveHlowini^ eyes from Donald, for he wuh not taking much notice of her eyes or perHonality, ho far as she eould detect. All his effortn at enter- tainment were directed towards her intellectu:d faculties, while these, unfortunately, were not hungering for his ministries. Even Donald could not maintain a learned discussion without some encouragement. IJis re- marks were falling so flat he drew a halt at last, and going to the table, stood turning over the leaves of an illustrated book he had tried to get Angela to examine ; she did not know that his restlessness proceeded from a deeper pain than her own. , .^, " I low long before we may see you again ? " she asked abruptly, startled for the moment by the quiver in her voice, and most heartily wishing she had not broken the silence. " Not until I am in a pos:' tion to claim the best — if it remains for me to claim," ho added bitterly. " Will it take you very long ? " she asked timidly. J. .». ,.j , ; .... in " How can I tell ? perhaps I can never do it." : i > A 'W 'j ' yw. r' - i"^ ' ' ' *> '* "'" ' "i ' y"" i " ' ' " A PKOMISB. m » O, Donald ! in it pdHHibUi wo nmy never Hee you again?" Her voieo was unHteady. II«>w glad Hhe waft that she could dry her eyen unseen by him. "They say evorythiUf; comes to him who is willing to work and wait ; perhaps what I want may come to me. "I th(mght you did not care for money. D.)n't you remember in those happy days when we told each other everything, you planned to have a cal)in away in the wild woods? It seems 80 beautiful to me sometimes to think of that little home, where everything would be natural and true." " I did not know what T wanted then — a boy's heart is different from a man's." She did not question any more. He spoke so sternly— as if her interference in his affairs angered him ; that was the hardest of all to bear. He did not come near her ; did not attempt to enlighten her intellect on those abstract subjects that were so tiresome, but still he was in the room with her, and they two were together ; that was something, when to-morrow, next year, a dozen years hence, that experience might not be re- peated. She did not know that he was watching the shapely head bent low on her hand as she sat r ,.^.. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) r % ^ >v 1.0 I.I 1.25 IfiUS |2.5 ■SO ■^" M^M 1^ 1^ 12.2 lii K4 li£ 12.0 ut LLS. U il.6 "te^jT' 7 Vf '^> Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRKT WEBSTIR.N.Y. 14580 (716)872-4S03 ? M r I I fv CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian InatHuta for Hinorieal Microraproduetiona / InatHut Canadian da microraproductiona Matoriquaa ^■-fc',., .- "ikH 276 A PROMISE. in the firelight, wiping away the tears that kept coming in such troublesome profusion. Not until he could come to her as an equal — confer honor rather than receive it — would he tell her of the love that had grown with him from boyhood. Nature grew too strong for him. He turned swiftly, and surprised her weeping. " Angela, promise me that you won't marry any one until " — he hesitated — " until I come back." He did not know how he was crushing the tender rose-leaf hand in his passionate grasp. «I promise." What a glad heart shone up through the tear-ftlled eyes. He could not trust himself longer, but abruptly left the room, his whole being in a whirl of tumultuous emotion. All a successful lover's triumph in his heart — all his manliness and honor outraged because of the advantage he had taken of such a girl as Angela. She was left alone, but she told her heart that now she was ao much Donald's affianced wife as if the betrothal had been sealed with all the promises usual on such occasions. How gladly, how proudly, she would wait for him through the coming years, certain that he would claim her promise when the right time came. She did not see him agun until tea time. He "WJWP A PBOICTSS. 277 sat beside her at table, and was particular that she should be supplied with everything, but for the first time in her life Mrs. Wardell's cooking had lost its flavor ; indeed, she wondered if she would ever care very particularly for food again. She had never felt so proud, so highly honored in all her life. To think that Donald should care for her — really want her for his wife — seemed an honor out of all proportion to her deserts. David was unusually silent that night. None of his departed heroes were powerful enough to banish the thought that on the morrow the last of his boys, and the dearest, would leave the home roof. His two older sons were as ambi- tious in their way as Donald. Archie was some- where now in the fastnesses of Australia, Andrew in the Sandwich Islands. From both of them came assurances of their prosperity, in the form of bits of printed paper holding their names for certain snug amounts for their parents' comfort. Agues was preparing to be a teacher, and was then at a training school for teachers in a neigh- boring city. David was very justly proud of his children, and had an idea that few men had quite so much to be thankful for as he, when he fell to examining his mercies carefully. 278 A PBOHISB. Angela wished a sudden darkness might spread over the land, for then Donald would be com- pelled to see her home, but at that season the twilight had a habit of lengthening out until nearly bedtime. When the tea drinking was ended there was nothing for her but to don her waterproof and return to the home more lonely now than ever. Mrs. Wardell and Jessie busied themselves getting her ready, Donald at the further end of the room watching the labor of love with a passionate longing in his heart to claim her there before them all as his own till death. Mrs. Wardell liked her next to her own children, and enjoyed fuUy as much as Angela, these opportimities of mothering her. Angela crossed the room and gave Donald her hand. She could not ti-ust herself far enough to murmur the softest good-by. He took the little hand given half-timidly, and then dropping it hastily turned and got his hat. " I will carry your umbrella," he said brusquely. The tears of pain that had been swelling her heart suddenly became joyous, and she was glad to escape from the watching eyes into the storm outside. Oddly enough she did not mind having Donald see her tear-filled eyes. If she could just have sobbed out all her loneliness and hunger for N A PBOMISB. 279 kindred and love as they walked throngh the sodden meadows, she fancied after that it would be easier to bear the separation. Mrs. Wardell stood at the window watching them, her sight grown suddenly clear. She saw that they walked as slowly as if genial, sunny skies bent above them. " Angela is only a child yet, and does not know her own heart ; she should not trifle with the lad." " What do you mean, mother ? " Jessie asked curiously. '' I mean that Donald has given Angela all his heart, and she is leading him on ; they are only children in some things, and do not know the mistake they are making." " What mistake ? " " Why, thinking of love, child. What right have they to talk of such things ? " "Why not, mother?" she asked gently. "I believe they have always loved each other, and where could either of them get better suited? I think it is the most beautiful thing I ever saw outside of books." " Child, you do not know what you are talking about. You forget Angela's birth and fortune. What has Donald to match it ? " ''If she loves him she won't think of that. '^mmmm^mmBm 280 A PB0MI8B. She always ihonght he was better iAan any one, and she thinks so stiU; I saw it in her eyes when she looked at him. I did not realize then that it was love." " She is too young to know her own heart. She will forget him and take up with some one else, and that will spoil his life. I wish she had not come to-day ; no knowing what they may say to each other under that umbrella. My eyes did not get opened until I saw the tears in her eyes, and the glad look on her face as Donald went out with her ; poor Donald ! poor boy ! " She looked out into the misty twilight as if there might be a chance of hearing what was being said under that pre- quired close thought, for the difficulties were immense. If the Pines should be utilized as a training-home for the children on a large scale, retrenchments must be made all around in their 288 A CALL. .iiii Style of living, since to do the work, as in that hour's inspiration it bad seemed possible to do it, would require a large outlay of money - larger, perhaps, than she could wdl afford, except ^by rigid economy, and that was something she had never exercised. _ She laid her plans resolutely, well knowing the bitter opposition she might expect from Lindsay, and realizing, also, what an alteration it would make in her own life. Hitherto, she had never brought more than seven or eight children into her home at once, and usually their ranks were soon thinned by removals ; but now to have every room occupied, with only two or three exceptions, and not her house alone, but her whole time devoted to the work— not for a few years merely, but until old age, if God left her so long in the world ! Now she understood better the perplexed question that had always appeared so strange to her — her craving for love and kindred, her loneliness. In another way than she might have planned God had made her life full; would it be complete? but then, was any life complete? In happiest wedded love were there not ideals never reached .' Few faces bore the repose of a quiet spirit, satis- fied with the folfillments of all their longings: gen( reve say this S A CALTi. 289 in that o do it, larger, jept by ihe had ving the jindsay, t would re than at once, aned by rtjcupied, not her d to the until old 1! Now ition that ler — her aess. In ined God soniplete ? happiest reached ? irit, satis- lon^ngs: generally those countenances that come nearest revealing this, were found with those whom the great world woidd call its banished ones ; guests of God only, and satisfied with the fare he gives. Quickly she went to the house and announced to Lindsay the larger work she was going to undertake, patiently listening to her reproaches — her appeals that she should be satisfied with the work already done, and to think more of herself. " I do want to see you married before I die, and with children of your own to*chase these crazy notions out of your head," she said, with actual tears in her eyes. Lindsay was not one of the weeping kind, and it was the first time since her father's death that Angela had ueen her so far moved. " I should not marry in any case. O, Lind- say ! I wish you would enter into the spirit of this work and help me." " Why won't you marry ? Haven't you never loved any one? dear knows there's plenty who seem to love you too well for their own comfort." Angela did not attempt a reply. Lindsay continued in a moralizing mood : "Now you'll get into this work head over ears — I just know how things'll be — when pres- ently some fine fellow'll come along and you are 290 A CALL. that impulsive, if once you faU i» 1*»^«' f 'fj* ^orse on you than the measles, ana you U leave everything and follow him." ^^ » You would be satisfied then, dear? "Well, yes ; I'd be satisfied to see you marry „,ost anybody that was the leastest bit decent Why, I'd hold up both hands for you and Donald "say watched keenly the effect her shaft .igUftake. A sudden flame of color suffused the white face, and Angela rose and went to the window. , , . u That's how the cat jumps. I've thought w ™ach this good speU," Lindsay said to herself, with a confidential nod. » What can be the trouble, I wonder. Angela is humble enough to take a chimney sweep .f he only had the quaUties she dotes on," Lindsay '""^"Tho^'l didB't make you angry, hinting at B„ch a thing? I know Donald's not your equal by a long ways, but I'm that anxious to see you settled I'd be willing for most anything. Lindsay was shrewd enough to throw out a bait she felt pretty certain Angela would seize ..Donald Warden is worthy of a princess. He iB BO far above me I would be amaaed if he asked *. A ii A CALL. me to marry him. I oould only believe it was for pity." Bless me! do you say so? Well, I didn't mean any offense to you, I'm sure," Lindsay said, more in response to the blazing eyes of the girl than the mere words she had spoken. "I'm willing to allow that he's good enough for Queen Victory, only for the matter of age." Angela eould not help smiling at Lindsay's sudden complaisance, while she was angry with herself for being enteapped. o CHAPTER XX. AN UNPAID HELPEB. Lindsay di ^ not mention love or marriage to Angela again, but comforted her by the new, and altogether surprising interest she took in ner work. The stately calm of the Pines was now a memory alone ; the great rooms that in other days had served as guest chambers for the fash- ionable and cultured, were converted into sleep- ing wards for the children of emigrants from every quarter. Angela's plans had been many times altered in the course of the last two or three years, more frequently to suit the exigencies of her purse, than the desire of her heart. The farm was cul- tivated now especially for the food that could be extracted from its well-nourished soil ; time and money that had been expended in ornamentation were directed solely to making it yield good crops that might be turned into cash. 292 penn have mine a mi ting new luxu of a did ity, i we 1 and intl It alas fron ent I even and somt that men o AN rNPAID HBLPBB. 298 ge to , and I ner low a other fash- sleep- from red in more parse, u oul- ald be le and itation I crops Angela was developing into quite a shrewd business woman, and the excellent bargains her neighbors had been accustomed to make with her had become a tradition only. She bought and sold with an eagerness to make the most of evety penny that, under other circumstances, might have awakened painful apprehension in the minds of her friends, lest she should develop into a miser. Her own personal expenses were get- ting reduced to an almost scientific precision, a new silk gown now being one of the unattainable luxuries, which, if indulged in, might be at the oost^ of a human soul — or so she reasoned. If we did not find, among a too self-indulgent human- ity, some such rare, unselfish beings now and then, we might forget what possibilities for nobility and grand development men and women possess in the abstract It is so much easier to read of these, scattered, alas ! at too great intervals along the generations from Enoch down to the last decade of the pres- ent century, than to join their slender ranks, but even to know that they have lived, and sacrificed and been glad in the life they have chosen is, to some of us, an inspiration, while we remember that they are our own species, that the same ele- ments of character may be in ourselves, to be 294 AN UNPAID HBLPEB developed fully in a world where selfish environ mentB will no longer fetter us. Warden's sons were prospering so well now that the tokens of their filial regard were render- ing daily toU on his part no longer a necessity, ludeed, they were so anxious for him to give up work that every letter seemed to have that for its principal message. He had been slow to re- spond ; for one thing he did not wish to become a burden on his boys ; indeed, this was not a neces- sity for his own industry, combined with the good wife's thrift, had enabled him to lay by Buffioient money, or nearly so, for their few wants, independently of the checks that came in nearly every letter. He could not, however, cont^t himself with a life of comparative idleness. He could not read all the time ; he cared nothing for neighborhood gossip; his own little garden was jealously tended by his wife, and so there was nothing left for him to do ; beside he had been so long accustomed to going back and forth to the great gardens at the Pines, superintending all the affairs of the property, he did not feel / like relinquishing the task to other, and, he be- lieved, less competent hands. For years, and in fact ever since he had worked Uiere, he had been in the habit of going to the mm A» UNPAID HBLPKB. 205 Pines on Michaelmas Day to settle up his year's accounts. First, with Angela's grandmother, then with her father, and now with herself. He made this last journey with a full heart, since it was possible Angela might not permit him to re- main on his terms, and he had at last promised his sons to be a hired servant no longer. She had not received the slightest hint of his inten- tions, and accompanied him to the library with the gentle deference that she always observed to- ward Donald's father, more than to any other person. They went over the year's accounts; when she paid him the balance of his wages, he sat nervously handling the roll of bills and tak- ing slight notice of her attempts at friendly con- versation. She noticed his constraint and was growing nervous herself, when with an effort he said : " The lads have forbidden me to hire for an- other year ; they send home more money than we shiJl be likely ever to spend." He did not see the look of pain in the face grown suddenly pale that was watchmg him, but he was startled at the changed voice. "You leave me at a time when I need you the most; more than that, I shall miss you for other reasons." £86 AK UNPAID HBLPKB< Her voice failed her, and she sat looking steadily now at the carpet, a» if she had never quite under- stood its pattern before. " I am sorry to leave you. They have been writing for a good while, but I could not tell you." «' Do they all desire it?" she murmured, with- out raising her eyes. "Yes; they seem to think I need rest. I never felt stronger in my life, but I canuot go against the bairns." "I do not ask it." She spoke sorrowfully, wondering if that would be the way people would treat her all through life ; when they no longer needed her help, leave her In loneliness. For a little while she felt very bitter against humanity in the abstract, but she soon conquered the feeling. "You must have some one to oversee your work still. I have been thinking the boys here might do the work ; it wotUd save a man's pay, and I dare say money is worth more now than ever it was at the Pines since it came into your family." Angela nodded her head in response to his remark. " I have talked the matter over with my wife, AN UNFAID HBLPBR. 297 and we have come to the oonclusion that we can satiBfy the lads and help you at the same time. 1 will take charge of things juM as usual, and that will save a man's pay. I promise things shall bo as well looked after as they ver were." Angela's only response was to burst into a passion of weeping. " Dear heart, what has pained you so?" Warden's own voice, stronger and deeper thau most voices, was unsteady, but she only wept the more. " Surely you have not been thinking we were ungrateful, my child. Did you think I was go- ing to leave you, after all the years of generous treatment I had received from this house?" She did not attempt to contradict him. " The lads never write but they mention you all of them. If they had known how this was going to distress you they would not have asked it. How could any of us know that you thought so kindly of us ? " " You will not write to any of them how child- ish I have been," she entreat^. "I do not call it childish. I had forgotten how lonely you are, with no kin near you. One is apt to forget that hearts need other thmgs than gold." ri^ ^^^^ ill ^^ggftmamam^ tmmmmmfBmmmm mmmmm m •.mx AK UUPAID HBLPEB. He aroM, and glancing toward, the drooping figure opposite, -aid, a little unsteadily : "You iihould have a husband, and bairns of your own. You have too tender a heart to be fighting the world single-handed ; we did not know that you cared so much for others." He did not say " for us," as it was in his heart to say. Angela arose, and turning to him said, with a brave effort at self-control: « I shall never for- get your kindness, and now I am so glad that we shall be partners together in this work." »♦ You will not be more glad than I ; there w no one, not even Mrs. Lindsay, who can take quite so much interest in your work and yourself She looked up at him with surprise, her eyes as suddenly dropping, for in that instant, in some mysterious way, she found that he knew her secret— and Donald's. Could he understand Donald's strange silence any better than she? That was a question impossible for her to ask. The work went on after that much as before, gave that David hired less work done, and set the boys who were at the Pines regularly- appointed tasks. He was methodical, and each was compelled to do the work appointed him, or else suffer the penalty that foUowed each AN UNPAID HBLPKR. 299 neglected duty. The entire charge of the boy« when outuide the house had been given to him, which Angela found was a great relief to her- uelf . Fortunately, they stood considerably in awe of him. He was a man of few words, usually saying just what he meant with least possible oir- cumlooution. He had trained his own children in a silent way to submit to the old-fashioned obedience that men of heroic mould have been in the habit of exercising over their children gince the days of Abraham, and he believed similar treatment was just what these hitherto untrained youths most needed. Lindsay complained that it was not fair to let him work just as hard as he ever did without pay, but Angela knew that what he did was done from love, and he had a recompense better than silver or gold. It was a necessity now to keep the children much longer at the Pines than in former years. Nearly aU the available places had been supplied within a radius of twenty miles ; this was matter both for regret and rejoic ing, since by keeping them bo long under her own care she could the better train them to meet the temptations of the outside world ; but when she reflected on the numbers of poor, friendless chil- dren stiU left in the city with few to hold them 800 AN tUiPAID HBLPRB. battk from dentruotion, it grieved her. The work Hho wiui able to do wan no limited compared with what might bo done, if others woidd do even half att much as she, no wonder she sometiutes grew discouraged; but seeing the few that had beeu saved encouraged her to go on, doing a little work. Ten boys and girls rescued from a life of degradation and transformeil into genuine Chris- tians, might mean a thousand saved a hundred years hence. She therefore reckoned her suuoeM in the future rather than the present. Her first importations were very nearly grown to nun's and women's estate. It l>egan to make her i'i>el {{uite an old woman when Mrs. Ingledorf whispered that they might have a wedding before very long, William Kay being now a stalwart young fellow, who had illustrated the virtue of generous diet in his own person. It was matter of ,n;reat rejoicing to the Ingledorfs that their adopted rrtn\ Hho exerciHeo take lan liv- L I vras ; tbem s their ;be rest, urn out ve mar- 'd marry rue; but iranted a >ple that ^rls are kly awak- tbat tbis beautiful young man had only a professional interest in her. If she never got well, she might not learn her mistake, but Angela could not, with calmness, think of ttuch a thing as that; for with all her brusqueness she loved the rugged, strong woman only second to one other humkn being. The doctor had told the Wardells that Lindsay was past all human help. That insidious malady that seems peculiarly the foe of this generation, Bright's disease, had for months been sapping the reserve powers of the once hardy frame. She had only one remedy for sickness — her own powerful resolution. She had exercised that day by day until at last it had to succumb to the deadly weakness which made even the slightest exertion a weariness. The turning-point had been passed where medical skill could have met and matched the disease, before the doctor had been summoned ; now the restless spirit fretted at the lethargy settling on all its powers, but had to learn the lesson God sets most of us. Angela could never find courage to ask the doctor what he thought of his patient; the look on his face the first day he sat chatting so gently with Lind- say sealed her lips. One might be surprised at her unwillingness 808 A PARTING. to believe any but favorable decisions, bnt Lind- say stood to her now in place of all her own kindred, most of whom had passed away before her eyes had opened on the scenes of life : her grandmother, that stately dame who prided her- self so much on her birth and training, keep- ing all the countiy side at a distance because of their lack of these essential qualities ; the gentle mother whose ancestral branches shot even higher into the cold, upper regions of aristocratic vege- tation than the family could boast with whom she allied herself; the dignified mother-in-law, condoning the humility of soul which made the younger woman recognize^ a pious and indus- trious housemaid as a sister beloved, because of the distinction and wealth such alliance had brought into her own family. The pain that proud woman exhibited when this bright, gracious creature, so like Angela's self, gave up her life and left in exchange the tiny infant, struck other women who had daughters-in-law as very peculiar. She, too, had passed away before Angela's recol- lection, but Lindsay had talked so much to her about both women, describing their peculiarities in such a realistic way, her remarks illustrated by the excellent likeness of each of them hanging in the parlor, that Angela seemed to feel fairly N PARTING. 809 well acquainted with both of them. Lindsay had, in her girlhood, been a maid at Ashcroft Hall, where Angela's ancestors had lived in con- siderable state since the stormy days when King John reluctantly affixed his signature to the Magna Charta. She loved to describe those long-vanished scenes and the family splendor, and her joy at being sent across the sea to Mistress Annie — An- gela's grandmother, who had followed her lover to the New World. All through her childhood and youth, Angela had listened to these storieo, while it had been a cherished hope with Lindsay, from the time she saw the budding grace and beauty of the girl, that she should go back among her own and find a mate who was worthy of her. That hope had been growing fainter year after year, until now when she would have made a very in- ferior individual, as regards family connection, welcome, only so far, however, as honesty and sobriety were concerned ; on these qualities she insisted firmly. There were long hours of ' sleeplessness for her now, when all the world around was hushed in slumber; at such seasons fancy was busiest. Slowly the question was foromg itself upon her mind, Could she ever be well again ? Ever ba MM 810 A PABTnro. able to take up the burdens that were wearing so heavily on the girl whom she had always shielded from household cares? Other questions, too, came thronging about her in those lonely vigihi. How was she prepared for the long and unknown journey over a road no guide book has ever de- scribed? Patsey's old question returned with wearisome iteration : " Are you converted ? " Her anxiety became so deep at last, that she asked for Patsey. " I mean David Grant that now is. He made a remark to me once that I have never forgotten, and I want to ask him about it," she remai'ked mysteriously. And Angela at once complied with her request. When he entered her room Lindsay was sur- prised at the change in his appearance. He had been abroad, and she had not seen him for a long time, and in the meantime the loose-jointed youth had shot up into a tall, well-formed man, but with something of the boyish look still in the strong, resolute face. Angela left them together, considerably mysti- fied at Lindsay's eagerness for a private confer- ence. Could it bo possible that she did not «k- pect to get well again, and had been seized with a natural desire to bequeath her goodly store of ▲ PABTIMO. 811 earnings to her relations over the sea ? She would know that David was sufftciently versed in law to attend safely to her last will and testament. They were closeted together a long time, Angela too bnsy, however, with her appointed tasks to brood very deeply on the perplexing question, but her heart was, nevertheless, iu a tremor of frightened expectancy. She felt sure David would tell her what Lindsay's business might be. He might also tell her what she was fighting with herself not to believe. At last she saw him coming to her. She was in the garden tying up the flowers into bouquets to send to the city, where they found a ready sale; they had been pressed into a mission of helpfulness, along with all the other products of the farm. Angela watched the manly-looking young fel- low, so brave and independent in his bearing, as he came toward her, with a feeling of deep satis- faction. To transform the dregs of humanity into such noble specimens of the race should cer- tainly atone for the work she was at that moment engaged in. David began cutting the stalks and arranging the flowers into groups that charmed even An- gela's fastidious taste, while she waited anxiously Mil mmm ^^^ ^mm 81fl A PARTIKO. At last the for him to begin the oonTerMtioii. could bear the suapense no longer. " What do you think of Lindsay ? " He an;^ /ered her question by asking another. '« Did you know for what purpose she sent for me?" " No." The face looking so intently into hit suddenly grew paler. '*You know, of course, that she is near her end?" " Who says that she is ? " she asked hotly. •♦The doctor — everybody; surely you were not ignorant of what is patent to every one who has seen her ? " " Was there no one who oared enough for me to tell me ? " she sobbed. " Does she know it herself ? " " I told her just now ; I think she must have believed so herself, or she would not have sent for me." " Did you write her will ? " t( I am to do so after dinner." He paused, as if reluctant to repeat what had passed between them — why Lindsay had sent for him. " Do you remember a conversation we hi|d together a good many years ago — down by the edge of the pine wood, one summer evening ? *' \. sen it the bher. at for bo his \t her were e who For me low it t have e sent sed, as etween "Do sther a of the A PARTIKO. 119 "Yes." "It led, if you remember, almost directly to my conversion. I have never tried to thank you for the interest you took in me that night; I never shall be able to do so as I t^ould wish until we meet in another world where we shall have language deep enough for our utmost need. If you remember, I asked Lindsay the next morn- ing if she had ever been converted — telling her what had just taken place in my heart. She was very angry with me at the time, but it seems that question I asked so long ago has been vex^ ing her of late; she wanted me to tell her all about it. I have found that in telling her I have myself been helped ; mingling with worldly people is apt to make some of us forget the sterner realities of death and eternity." • Angela was listening, her whole eager soul shining in her eyes. "Could you make her understand?" she asked. " I cannot tell. Do you remember you told me that evening we could never find the Lord so easily as in our youth? I was thinking of that whUe I talked with her ; but with God all things are possible." Angela sank down on a garden chair, ner «14 A PARTIKO. handH iaiy folded in her lap, her intereit in ev«rything gone Bave that old, tried friend, m noon to crosB the boundary line dividing u« from that other country. " Why did she not apeak to me ? " "She did not want to grieve you, but was wishing «o much that you would talk to her porsonally." Angela WM Bilent. " Had che been neglecting a known duty? " she asked herself. " It was better for her to speak flrst. The fact that she conquered her proud nature sufficiently to speak to me will be a great help to her. I believe the two hardest steps for us to take toward salvation is acknowledging our need, and believing that Christ is able and willing to gave us." •' She has taken one of those steps. God he\p her to take every other," Angela murmured fervently. After dinner David was again closeted with Lindsay, coming out at k . .o get legal witnesses for the will he had jusc drawn. All about the premises were more or less her beneficiaries, save the housemaids, and these were taken into the sick room, both of them looking very solemn and somewhat alarmed, but they affixed their signar tui Wtl fei hi> nn UII al fa tl y* sc h a h f it in d, 80 from ) was > her soting >efaot iently sr. I take need, ng to Ihelii luured I with ;neB8es tut the B, save tto the an and signa- A PABTINO. 816 turim to the paper, and when it wa» done there wuH a iiha»lo k«Mii of anxiety on Lindsay'* waxen features. David found it iniposHilile to preserve bin calmnoHS wlien Angela slipped into the room and threw herself on the bed beside her oldest aud truest friend. "0, Lindsay! are you going to leave me alone? " she sobbed ; " you have always been so faithful to me, and now I shall have no one." " Yes, dear ; you will have the Lortl, and then there are aU these dear boys and girls who love you nearly as well as I do. You won't be lone- some long." " No one will quite take your place." "I think it is all for the best; David says so." She talked calmly, with frequent pauses, for her strength was far spent, but her mind remained as clear as ever. Angela held the thin, hard hand, grown so in faithful service to her and her family, but the tears kept falling more sofUy now. David had taken a chair at her side. He longed to speak some comforting word to her who had been mother and friend to him for so many years; to whom he owed everything he held best in thb world. She must have felt the unspoken sympathy in his heart, for she turned to him at last, aad putting her hand in his said: ■Mii 316 A PARTING. " What should I do now if it were not for you and Mark — and all the rest," she added, as if just remembering that the others had a right to be included also. Lindsay had fallen asleep, but Angela did not move. The lights were brought in ; there was work that must be attended to, and with a heavy heart she turned from that restful quiet. For nearly a month Lindsay lingered on, then fell calmly on sleep — the sleep that knows no earthly waking. thi ing spi goi du en( W up th( all th( tet up 001 fie ^ p you as if :ht to d not work heart then rs no CHAPTER XXII. A MEETING. The autumn winds were sighing gloomily through the pine woods, the autumn leaves drift- ing down to enrich the mould from which they sprang. Angela sometimes felt, now that Lindsay was gone, that the care was more than she could en- dure. Hired help at the best was a poor depend- ence ; frequently the best was not to be bad. Wardell took more and more of the burdens upon himself, even his wife and Jessie coming to the rescue in times of pressing emergency, but all the care of the house was upon her, beside the oversight of the children. She was matron, teacher and housekeeper all in one, but she boro up bravely, and no one ever heard her utter a complaint. One evening when the storm was raging fiercely without, she sat by her own fireside, «17 318 A MESTINQ. busy with her accounts, and feeling glad that all her household, dumb and human, were in their appointed shelter, when there came a gentle tap at the door. She bade the applicant enter, thinking it might be one of the maids with letters or a message, and went on reckoning up a column of figures that would persist in coming out larger than she expected. She heard the door open, and a footstep on the thick carpet, and half-CQusciously waited for the person to speak. Surprised at last at the silence, she turned her face to the door, when she was startled to see a man standing beside her. She looked at him for an instant, her fear turn- ing to gliidness as she murmui-ed, " It is Donald I " She held out her hand, which was instantly clasped in both of his, while she stood looking into the bronzed, bearded face. «'Can it be really Donald, or am I mistaken?" she asked at last. This tall, distinguished-look- ing man certainly bore slight resemblance to her friend. " Yes, it is Donald ; your Donald, Angela." She withdrew her hand and placed an easy chair for him by the fire. " We were not expecting you. When did you arrive ? " she asked. (i «(' i( ' H easy SI ohaii open shou and she firop "1 she ^ ""! Ai agaii "] have n^ Tl made "1 with *' An hour ago.* " Have you had tea ? " "Yes." ■ Will you permit me to take your wet ooat ? " "Thank you." His anaveri were certainly very brief ; not an easy person to entertain, by any means. She busied herself hanging the wet coat on, a chair, and added more wood to the old-fashioned, open fire, making a cheery blaze that of itself should have thawed out the most silent tongue, and then with a stmxige feeling of constraint, she sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace. "Did yon come across in the last steamer?" slie ventured timidly to inquire. "Yes." After another pause she broke the silence again. " Did you not find the passage rough? We have had stormy weather all along the coast" " We had a stormy voyage." They came to another pause, and again Angela made a further attempt at entertainment " How glad your parents will be to have you with them at Christmas ! " There was a thrill of gladness in her own voicf I WPK 820 A MBKTIHG that was like a gleam of sunshine to the man sitting opposite her. « Are you glad, Angela ? " He was standing beside her now, looking down into the pale, upturned face. "Yes." " I have come to release you from your promise." "You do not need. I have no thought of marrying." She spoke sadly. "You must not say that, Angela; I have worked as few men have done to win a position worth offering you. The time has ccme that I dare to tf)U you something of the love that has been in my heart all these years." " Was it because of that you never told me ? " What a world of regret there was in the low- spoken words. " There could be no other reason." " O, Donald I ?^nd all the time you were so far above me ; and now it is too late." " It shall not be too hite ; nothing shall come between us any longer — nothing but death, Angela." He spoke passionately. " I have other duties now ; did they not tell me wi] Ae J ful you "Your highest duty is *-> yourself and jour ■t.««-{5jSffl??/!'*''" ■WPaRPi A MRETIKO. d2i plighted husband. All these years I have trusted you — kept myself pure for you. I shall not oross the ocean without you." What a wave of gladness enfolded her as she listened to his impetuous voice I This was more than parents or brothers and sisters — than all kindred beside. She could follow him anywhere, and no place would be lonely with him at her side. And then the thought of what others would miss because of her joy, dashed the oup of bliss from her lips. " O, Donald I how can I leave thone who need me so much more than you need me ? Your life will be very suooessful, very perfect without me. And they have no one to care for them." The eyes gazing at him so wistfully now, were full of tears. You know, Donald, I have loved you better than all. I have so wanted to belong to you, even while I did not know you cared for me in that way. Not very long ago I decided always to be single, so that I might help others, and I have given myself now to that Tvork." You gave, then, what belonged to me. I meant everyf^hing in that request I made, and which you piomised to keep,, and I trusted you worked with the expectation of receiving my i 1^ 822 A MSETINO. reward. There are otihers who can do this work ; oan you not leave some one in your place ? " There was a sudden catching of the breath as she looked up eagerly. " If your father and mother would come here and take charge — O, Donald ! if I could only, go with you I only be sure that you care enough for me to want me with you always, how glad I should be ; but you are so learned, and I " — He stopped her there. "You must never say anything against my wife in my presence, Angela; I will not permit it from any human lips, not even yours." She gave him a puzzled look. " Do you not remember how you used to assure me you could never really respect me if I was not clever and studious ? " ■ "I did not understand womenkind then, 'An- gela ; did not know the grandeur and beauty of a pure woman's so«J — how it surpasses our highest culture. I am only amazed that one like you should care to mate with me ; but, darling, I will be very tender to you." The look of supreme content she bestowed upon him made him forget the years that had divided them. "I hope I won't be jealous of your specimens an w< pr ki TO m< ou A UBBTIMO. any more ; but, dear, I won't interfere with your work ; you have trained me so that I will nu^e a pretty obedient and not very exacting wife. A few kind words now and then will make me happy." The sweet humility and patience in face and voice gave him a very unusual and unexpected moisture about the eyes. She looked at him presently a little sorrowfully. "I had forgotten; we have been permitting ourselves these happy fancies, and yet we do not know if they can be fulfilled." " They shall be fulfilled, unless death inter* poses." He spoke with something of the old sternness in voice and face that she remembered so well. " I can only leave my children and the work here in your father's care. Unless he and your mother consent to come here and live, I cannot leave the Pines." "Do not speak that way, Angela; I shall doubt if you ever have loved me." " Duty must come before everything, Donald ; you have lived without me all these years ; have missed me far less than my. children would have done — will miss- me in the coming years less than they. Could you respect me if I left all and foUowed you ? " 824 A MBETIKO. " It 18 impoBgible for me to think of you under any condition in life In which I should not respect you." " With that assurance I think I can manage to be content." Her voice trembled a little. " It is useless giving ourselves this unnecessary pain; my father will be ghid to come here; his whole heart is in your work. His letters have contained little else than descriptions of you and your work ; even if I had been fickle enough to forget you, his letters would have kept your memory green. Angela, you can never undeiw stand how I have longed for this hour — dreamed of it, dreaded lest it might never come. I trusted a great deal to a young girl's fancy." "If you had only told me, so that I could really h&ve been sure. I made up my mind at last that it was all a mistake ; but I kept my heart empty for you." " Have I not made plain my reason for not speaking ? I could not ask you to link your fort- une to an obscure, penniless youth. Have yon been reading the papers btely?" he asked, somewhat irrelevantly. " Very little ; I have been too busy," she said, looking mystified. « My father did not tell yon, then? but no, wmmsmmmmmmammmmmmm A MSBTIHO. 835 that would hay^ been unlike him. Angela, I have written the book you asked for long ago, and it is likely to make my fortune. You can choose the mansion or the cabin, as you please. In either ease, I shall be able to gratify your request." «' O, Donald ! I am so glad for your sake. Can I understand the book ? Did you bring it for me to read ? " «'I wanted to talk myself. I will give the book a chance some other time." She was very quiet, apparently forgetting even Donald's dear presence. He watched her closely. Tho mood was a new one even to him, but all her ways and moods fascinated him, and just then books, or ambition, or the great world's praise, counted very little with him as he sat with her at his side, in the supreme content that yean of waiting brought. " I wish Lindsay could know ! What she so longed for has come just a little too late. Oh ! I am so glad that I shall have the company I like henceforth." Her sentence ended with a sigh of deep content iflM CHAPTER XXIII. THE END. Donald was not mistaken. His father ac- cepted the charge, though with many misgivings, refusing, however, any remuneration for his and his wife's services, save their bo&rd and lodging. "It is just the Lord's doings," David s^d reverently, when entering upon his duties. ^ I have always wanted to do something for him, but my way has been hedged up." Angela thought he had done a great deal in giving to the world such a son as Donald — one who had already stood before princes and been honored by theut, for, by degrees, she had drawn from him something of the story of his successes ; but these had a measure of pain for her as well as rejoicing, since it only served to widen the distance between his acquirements and her own. From their earliest acquaintance she had read his character correctly, instinctively recognizing gifts S26 TBii mm. 887 of intellect and eliAMMt^T differant from all her other aoquaintanoei, and even now she ooold hardly realize that these, in their full deTelop. ment, had all been Uid at her feet ; that he had chosen her, longed to have her for a life-long companion and friend. The honor confeired on her by this seleotion seemed so out of proportion to her deserts she oonld hardly realise it Donald insisted that they shonld hare the best (lay in the whole year for their wedding day, and, altbongh it was just at hand, their Christmas celebration included the marriage celebration too. All her boys and girk from far and near were invited, while the preparations for their enter> tainment were more abundant than elaborate. An hundred and more of these were gathered in the large parlor and library, which seemed to have been pkmued c purpose for this occasion. The marriage ceremony took place at midday, so as to allow those within easy driving distance time to come and return the same day ; the rest had to crowd into whateysi empty spaces they could find for themselves. The faces gathered there rembded one of an April day — smiles and tears commingled. To some of them it neeiued impossible that Angela could be spared and the work still go on. 828 THB BMI>> but she had auoh faith in David and hit wife, that she had actually pewuadod herself, and any one who would listen to her, that the change would be a fortunate one for the children. It ii hardly necessary to say that Donald, for reason, of his own, encouraged her in the belief. Angela received few gifts of much value, but some of them were consecrated in a manner not usual with wedding presents, tears (.f thankful- ness from the grateful bride adding to their costliness. They went, some of them, as low as a dime, and inclosed in an envelope with a few pathetic lines, praying that she would buy some- thing that she could always have with her to remember them by; a request she fulfilled by purchasing a pretty ring, the necessary amount to do this supplemented by Donald, thereby enhancing its value. As the months wore on, the messages passmg to and fro between the Pines and Angela were a comfort alike to both parties. David was in- clined to give only the happier side of his expen- enoes with the work she had bequeathed to him, while she beUeved that her pathway was aU Bunny, for Donald fulfUled, even better than she had expected, the promise made to her the night of their betrothaL THB HMD. \ wife, d aoy ihange Itii eauoiu le, but er not uikful- ) their low M I a few T Bome- her to lied by amount thereby passing k were a was in* I experi- to him, was all than she be night Her happiuess was complete when she sent to the proud grandparents an exquisite picture of herself, which she regarded, however, as a very indifferent work of art, save for the tiny figure robed in lace and lawn, surmounted by a pink baby face, which she held in her arms ; a bit of hiituanity of the most wonderful kind imaginable, since it was Donald's boy. Other children in the great German city where she lived had already learned to love, and with very good reason, the beautiful lady who talked to them in sweet, broken accents ; for here, too, Angela found many a youthful life in danger of being utterly marred and sh ored by sin, and winch needed help fully as much as any in her native land. But she did not here meet the in- difference which had characterized her work in Longhui'st. IL Jfe:.