IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // 1.0 I.I if i^ m ■- l» IIIII2 2 - m III- - Ii£ IIIIIIO 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" — ► % "/ V '% Photographic Sciences Corporation A ,\ S ,v ^q) .V 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 Pi? O^ .-t^'ii-Ji!fJ!':t1^\A~'^Mf!^IM^'WP^'^)P^<^^f::-iflii^si'ff^¥? - ?(.-3r^ 4> ^-^^ /fc. A5^ f/j ^ ■M CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques >S mm ?-:?r*?^®»«sgB««'S8«;*5«s*^*''S!!!?.'%'V« .i ] < j j;i;in- ^iy ;y ^ , ;.> i;^V - « Hi »»^ ?i^i»^j' ewvicy^^^N«'«^ ■ O. CBAPTIBi I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XL XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII. XXIII. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. INDEX. Mbs. Blake "°* Oaklands [ ^ ESMKBELDA ^T The Fuwekai. "'.".'.".".'.'.".'.'.'.!.'.'.'.' 49 A New Accomplishment Lea«ned. ".".".'.;." 47 Mb. WiNTUBop ' Examination ^ Mbs. Labkum An Evening Walk A Helping Hand., City Life 70 78 01 103 New Acquaintances..!.!! !^ Alone With His Dead ...!.!!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ' ' ' j« Humble Cuabities ,,-. A Pleasant SuBPBiSE....! JJl Hope Realized ZL Chbistmas-tide ff: The Chbistmas Tree...!! !!!!!.!!!"■ o«o Thbee Important Mrs Le Gbande.. 252 Letters 272 285 Mrs. Le Gbande's Story onr The Changed Heart ^ 310 324 The Encounteb at St. Mabk's Mrs. Le Grande's Stbataoem. . ! ^^ Beech Street Worshippers. ... Z', Fbom The Depths ^ Convalescence ^ The Sound of Marbiaoe'bells. J-i Tub End ^ **** ovX ^ aeM^fifl&MMlNUa.'VRIKSlClM^ MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. CHAPTER I. MRS. BLAKE. |HE cars were not over-crowded, and were moving leisurely along in the soft, midsum- mer twilight. At first, I had felt a trifle annoyed at my carelessness in missing the Express by which I had been expected ; but now I quite enjoyed going in this mixed train, since I could the better observe the country than in the swifter Express. As I drew near the end of my journey, my pulses began to quicken with nervousness, not unmixed with dread. Captain Green, under whose care I had been placed when I left my home for the last eight years, had concluded, no doubt very wisely, that I could travel the remaining few miles through quiet county places alone, This last one hundred and Q MEDOLINE SELWrys WOllK. fiftv miles, however, hud Ixicn the must trying part of tho whole journey. My English wus a tnllo hallinK ; all our teachers spoke Geruiau as their n.otl.er tongue at the sehool, and the last two years I was the only English-born pupil. C^iptam (Jreeii was an old East Indian officer, like my own dead father, and very readily undertook the care of a troublesome chit of a girl across the ocean, in mem- ory of the strong friendship subsisting between hun self and my father, now long since passed to other service than that of Her Gracious Majesty. Ihe Captain was a very silent man, and therefore not calculated to help me to a better acquaintance of any language, while he did not encourage me to make friends with my traveling companions. 1 he iourney had been therefore a very quiet one to me, but I had found it delightful. I had, like most of our species, an innate love of the sea ; and the long, still hours as I sat alone gazing out over the rest- less waters, have left one of the pleasantest of all the pictures hanging in memory's halls. As I did not wish to be taken, even by the chance traveling companions of a few hours, for other than an English or American girl, I resolved to speak fewest possible words to an>- one on the journey ; and when the conductor came for my ticket, I repressed the desire to ask him to tell me when my own station would be reached, and merely shook my head at the news agents who wer^ more tn wl G wi Wi lio lie to I' be pa qu th( II pa] J sai an] J yoi yoi pec (I any Mlili. HLAKE. , trying part iViis a trillo an as their ,st two yoara ptiiin (Jrocii yr own (lead ic ciiri) of a can, in meni- jetween liini iscil to otlier iijesty. Tiie herefore n^t uaintancc of arago mo to \uions. The etone to me, , like most of andthelong, )ver the rest- santest of all Is. even by the QW hours, for irl, I resolved ny one on the ) for my ticket, tell nie when , and merely ho wer^ more tr(»nl)lnsoiiie, if possible, than the dust and smoko wliich poured in at doors and windows. Captain Green had telegraphed luy guardian the hour at which I would arrive, but I got so interested watcliing the busy crowds on the streets from my hotel window that, for a while, I forgot that I Ujo needed a measure of their eager haste, if I were soon to terminate this long journey over land and sen. I was beginning to fear, at laat, after the cars had been in motion some hours, that I might have passed my station ; so I concluded to have my question carefully written down, and the next time the conductor came near me hand it to him. I had not long to wait, and giving him the slip of paper, I murmured "Please." He read, and then looking at me very intently said: " Are you a foreigner ? " " Oh, no ; English," I said, blushing furiously. " Why don't you speak then, when you want anything ? That's wliat we're here for." I bowed my head quite proudly and said, " Will you please, then, answer my question?" " We won't be there for an hour or more. Are you not the young lady Mrs. Flaxraan is ex- pecting ? " "I am Mr. Winthrop's ward. I do not know any Mrs. Flaxman." " Oh, it's all the sq,me. She lives with him ; is a MKDOLINK SKLWYN'S WORK. couain, or something coniicctctl Avitli him. llo u ttwiiy now; lufl u month cigo for tlio I'licilio coiwt." lie wiw sitting now qiiito comfortably in the next HCiit. "You needn't have any more anxiety about the stopping places," ho continued, very cordially ; " I will look after you, and see that you get safely home, if there's no one there to meet yo)i. Most likely they expected you by the morning's Ex- press." Then lie inquired about my luggiigo, ex- amining my checks and keeping up a running stream of conversation which I seemed compelled to answer. After the rigid exclusion of my school life, where we were taught to regard all sorts of men with a measure of wholesome dread, I scarce knew whether to bo proud of my courage in being able to sit there, with such outward cahnness, or ashamed of my boldness. If I couhl only havo consulted one of the teachers just for a moment it would have been such a relief; but presently the train stopped, when he left my side, his seat to be immediately occupied by an elderly woman with a huge covered basket. After considerable difficulty she got herself and basket bestowed to her satisfac- tion just before the cars got in motion. She moved uneasily on the seat, looking arour.d on all sides a trifle nervously, and then in an awed whisper said to me, " Don't the cars go all to smash sometimes ? " in nn ba roi in] ant ma I CI aft( eve for law soo (I ■-S,'y-T^-i'v--J)^ >^'; HK. 1th him. ITo r iho Pnciiio rlrtl>ly in the ety about the cordially ; " I [)U get safely t yo)i. Most iioniiiig'8 Ex- Y luggiigo, ex- ip a running led compelled 1 of my school ,11 sorts of mon I scarce knew in being able calmness, or aid only have r a moment it presently the his seat to be woman with a rable difficulty to her satisfaC' 1. She moved I on nil sides a whisper said to sometimes ? " W/.'.s. lil.AKK. "Not many times," I tried to say reassur- i"giy- "I wan't never in 'em afore, and wouldn't bo now, only nry son Dan'd's wife's took onconimoii bad, and lio thinks I can euro her." She reniained quiet a wliilo, and then somewhat reassured began to grow curious about her travel- ing coniijanions. "Have you ciini fur?" hIio asked. I explained that'] had como a good many miles. •'All alone?" " Oidy from New York." " Going fur ? " " To Cavendish." " Did you say Cavendish?" "Yes." "Bo you a fnrriner?" " No, I am English ; " I felt my color rising as I answered. "Well, you speak sort o' queer, but my old man was English, too, a Norfolk man, and blest if I could understand quarter he said for ever so long after we got keci)ing cf)nipany. I used to say yes to everything I didn't understand when we was alone, for fear ho might be popping tlia question; but laws, I knew well enough when ho did ask." She fell into an apparently pleasant reverie, but soon returned to tlie actualities of life. " You're not married, surely." 10 MEDOLISK SELWYN'H WORK. I answered in the negative with fewest possible words. "Got a young man, though, I'll warrant ; such a likely girl." "I do not understand what you mean," I answered with considerable dignity, glad to let her know tliat her own English was not perfect. " You must have been riz in a queer place not to know what likely is. Why, it's good-looking ; and anybody knows you're that. But I suppose you didn't have much eddication, they mostly don't in England ; my man didn't know even his letters ; but I have pretty good book larniu' and so we got on all right," she continued, with a retrospective look on her not unkindly face. " Who might your folks be in Cavendish ? " she asked, after a few moments of welcome silence. " I have no relatives tliere," I answered, I am afraid, rather ungraciously. " Going as governess or nurse girl to some of the aristocracy there ? You don't look as if you ever did much housework, though." " I am going to Mr. Winthrop's." " Deu tell ! Why, I lived with his mother my- self, when I was a widder lirst." Then she relapsed into another eloquent pause of silence, while possibly in her dim way she was reflecting how history repeats itself. But coming back to reality again, and scanning me more closely thi wc pOi as th( sail ] ing hei Ion pla aft( anc I trai mai ti Ho wit ORE. fewest possible warrant; such you mean," I , glad to let her t perfect, eer place not to )d-looking ; and I suppose you mostly don't in v^en his letters ; .' and so we got a retrospective avendlsh?" she ;ome silence, tnswered, I am girl to some of look as if you his mother niy- eloquent pause im way she was If. But coming ; me more closely MItS. liLAKE. .;t-_i j^a<,i*j«w.xrv-5*r'!y'e to meet this plain, old body, and learning from her incidents about my own dead parents I miglit otherwise never have known ; besides she told it in such a realistic way that, in some mysterious fashion, like mind reading, I seemed to see it all myself through her clear eyes. " Have you many brothers and sisters ? " " My mother had four children ; but the others died in infancy." " You look rugged as most young ladies." *' Do you mean healthy ? " "1 rosy the yean thert their ti ' nate: "] "( "] Belg t( (( ' I sp( iuE me t bett< I (I ' ture it ' to c hanl beb tills rrs'r'.-jii'jj'r ORK. er. Mrs. Win- ili mystified. >st." ice?" -like, handsome tern. Your ma lelicatc. Tlicy hey was fond of pedher. I heard time to get her. marry a soldier, i^ed in Enghiiid. as well as your a reverie at llic s causing me to irniiig from hur areiits I miglit desshe told it in ome mysterious ned to see it all sisters?" ; but the others iig ladies." MTt8. BLAKE. 13 " Well, yes ; you have a clear complexion and rosy cheeks." " They were extremely careful of our health at the school where I have been for the last eight years. That was the reason my father sent mo there. IIo had heard how remarkably healthy their pupils were." " 'Twan't in this country, or you'd speaK more nateral like. " No, it was in Brussels." ' ' " Oh, yes ; in England, I suppose." " No, on the continent of Europe ; a city in Belgium, the capital." " And you've talked a furrin tongue, then." " Yes, several ; but the German is the only one I speak quite correctly." " Bless your heart, you'll soon talk fast enough in English. Your voice is very sweet ; it minds me of your ma's. And it 'pears to me you speak better already." I was beaming on the gooa woman now. " Will you remain long in Cavendish ? " I ven- tured on a question or two myself. " It'll depend on on Dan'els wife. He wants me to come and live with 'em, but I hain't much hankering for darters-in-law, and I x-eckon we'd be better friends furder apart. However I'll stay till she gets well ; it costs so for hired girls." " May I come and see you?" I asked. ,'« 14 MBDOLINE SELWYN'8 WORK. " Bless your dear heart, I'll be pioud to have you come." " Will you please tell me your name and what street you live on ? " " Oh, the streets don't amount to much in Cavendish. My name is Betsy Blake ; just in quire for Dau'el Blake on the Mill Road ; he works in Belcher's steam mill. Laws, how quick the time liiis gone ! I thought for sure I'd be amost scart to death ; and I've hardly once thought of getting smashed since I sot down here first ; and now we're just into Cavendish." I glanced through the window, and my heart throbbed joyously ; for there, stretching so far away I could see no farther shore, lay the beautiful ocean. No matter now what might be my home in this strange, new country. With my passion for the sea, and it so near, I could not be utterly desolate. To sit on these cliffs, reddening now in the sunset and watch the outgoing tide, sending imaginary messages on the departing waves to far- off shores, would surely, to some extent, deaden the sense of utter isolation from the world of child- hood and youth. Mrs. Blake shook my hand warmly, repeating .again the invitation to visit her at Daniel's, while she gathered up her huge basket and started for the door with the cars still in motion. I sat watcliing from the window the groups of people waiting for the incoming train as Ml tl A h n s] si n n a y h E r I -iW?^,-t.;r*..-«'*«4r*r"--'^.''!-'ilMr -J cX r' n^-ri'i'*^'". WOHK. e proud to have name and what int to much in Blake ; just in Road ; lie works how quick the ire I'd be amost once thought of 1 here first ; and , and my heart tretching so far lay the beautiful it be my home in my passion for not be utterly eddening now in ng tide, sending ing waves to far- I extent, deaden le world of child- shook my hand ation to visit her i her huge basket the cars still in ;he window the ncoming train as JlfRS. BLAKE. 15 we stopped at the station. A few carriages were there, but none of them had come ftn- Mrs. Blake. A strong limbed man, with a dejected face, relieved her of tlie basket and then hurried away, she rapidly following. I felt sorry for them, and was speculating what news Daniel had brought of his sick wife, quite forgetting for the time that I too had need to be astir. The conductor, however, soon re- minded me of the fact as he announced briskly that a carriage was in waiting for me. "They will send down bye-and-bye for your luggage ; it's only a one-seated affair outside." I followed him to the carriage ; a bright faced young fellow was holding a spirited horse ; from his bearing I instantly set him down as something more than a servant. *' Here, Flaxman, is your charge," the conductor remarked, as he assisted me into the carriage. " Miss Selwyn, I presume," the young man said, politely, as he disentangled one hand from the reins to grasp mine. The horse started off on a biasing canter, much to my amusement. " You are not afraid, I hope," my companion said, a trifle anxiously. "Not afraid, but amused ; your horse goes so oddly ; but I am not accustomed to their ways." I added, fearing my remark might give ofTence. " Faery and I are very good friends, and un- 10 MMDOUNE SELWYN'S WORK. derstand eucli other thoroughly; but stniiigcrs usually get alarmed." My knowledge of quadrupeds waa so limited I thought it safest to remain silent. Presently >ve passed the lilakes, I longed to relieve Daniel of his heavy basket ; for even ho seemed to stagger beneath its weight. " I was speaking with that woman on the train. She comes to attend her son's wife, who is sick." " Oh, the lilakes, then. She won't have much to do, Dan's wife died to-day; poor beggar, he looks heartbroken." " Your wife may be dead some day ; then you ■will know how dreadfully he feels," I said, hotly. The flippant tone in face of such sorrow distressed me. He gave me a merry look as he said: " There are always plenty left to replace the lost ones. A wife is far easier got than a horse ; one like Faery, for instance." I shut my mouth firmly and turned my head away to watch the white sails idly mirrored, in the still waters, I knew he was furtively watching me, and this alone held bivck my tears, as I thought of poor Blake's desolate hearthstone, iis well as my own heart's loneliness in this wide con- tinent of strangers. "Mr. Winthrop regretted being away when you arrived, but he expected us to be kind to CO tei yo ab t0| he OBK. but stniiigers aa so limited I s, I longed to b ; for even he it. n on the train. who is sick." t have much to 3ggar, he looks day ; then you " I said, hotly. iTow distressed Jis he said': place the lost I a horse ; one •ned my head r mirrored, in vely watching ly tears, as I learthstone, iis this wide con- ; away when to be kind to ■.-.iiwtat»wsrf*»«t*«^M=?ew^!ff!W?Wf' ^J»-^' ifRS. BLAKE. IT you ; so we must not quarrel first thing." My companion said, with entire change of tone. " I quarrel pretty easily," I stammered, " my temper is very abrupt." " Most of us have quick tempers ; but, I think, you, at leafct, have a generous one." Then I recollected abrupt was not a very suit- able word to couple with temper. Taken al- together, I found this drive home with Faery and her master anything but enjoyable. 2 da' CHAPTER II. OAKLANDS. lAERY'S head was turned at last from the wide, dusty street into an imposing gate- way, which lead through an avenue bordered thickly with evergreens mostly pine and hemlock. " These trees look a trifle hot in sum- mer ; but they are a capital protection in a winter's storm, I assure you," my companion said with an apologetic air. I could think of no suitable reply ; so merely said, " yes." " Its a tradition among their acquaintances that the Winthrops believe in getting the very best possible good out of everything." " Have they succeeded ? " " Better than the generality of folks ; but they have come pretty near extinction, at least on this side the water. Mr. Winthrop is the last of his race." " Has he no children ? " ma wil 1 abl we: ] to i not StO( con wid ren anj I t easi sho Fla the Th( whi wal lai's this at last from the imposing gate* gh an avenue mostly pine and ifle hot in sum- ion in a winter's 3n said with an iply; so merely ;[uaintance8 that y the very best folks; but they at least on this 3 the last of his ,r.~^i»*e^a^'-.^sisrsn:-sv!!er.i0i^ : OAKLAND a. 19 " He is a bachelor." " But ho may have children and a wife some day." " You will probably be his heir, if he does not marry, I believe he is your heir by your fatherV will, in case you die without heirs." I laughed merrily. " He will outlive me prob- ably. What good would his money do me if I were old, or maybe dead ? " " Your children might enjoy it." I wondered was it customary in this country to speculate on such remote possibilities, but said nothing. We soon reached the house, which stood on ground elevated to command a magnifi- cent view of the sea, the distant headlands, and a wide stretch of hill and dale. The house itself reminded me more of old world buildings than any I had yet seen in America ; and, on the spot, I took a fancy to it, and felt that here I could easily cultivate the home feeling, without which I should still be a wanderer on the earth. Mrs. Flaxman was standing to receive me as I ascended the granite steps that led to the main entrance. The great stone house had wings at either end while deep breaks in the heavy masonry of the walls occurred at regular intervals, and heavy pil- lars of granite made a massive background for this fair, slight woman as I looked at her. "I will commit Miss Selwyn to your care. 20 UKDOLISK SELWYN'S WOUK. iiiolher, whilo I tiiko a little longer drive with Faery," my companion said, graciously. " I will accept your trust with a great deal of pleasure, Hubert," she said, receiving me with a cordiality that warmed my heart. " You are very welcome home. At least, I hope you will feel at home here." • " I have no other, now that I have left school," I said, gravely. " Young ladies do not often waste much senti- ment on their boarding-school home, so I think wo shall succeed in making you content here with us at Oaklands." " I have always been accustomed to find my own sources of content. We were left at school to amuse ourselves or not, as we willed." " But I hope we shall not bo so indifferent to your pleasure. Mr. Winthrop is not much of a society man, but we still see a good many visitors." The main entrance of the house was finer than anything I had remembered to have seen, and at first I felt quite oppressed by the grandeur of my surroundings ; but when Mrs. Flaxman had con- ducted me to my own room, its dainty furnishings and appointments made it appear to me, after the plain accommodations of the school, a perfect bower for any maiden. I went to one of the deep windows and looked out over the splendid stretch of land and sea scape spread before me. Drawing 'I a ki w; w! in m W( Bi ail m be th th th th th te mi bi] sa WOJiK. r»ger drive with iiously. a great deal of viiig me with a " You are very you will feel at ave left school," [iste much sen ti- ne, so I think wo «nt here with us med to find ray re left at school willed." so indifferent to H not much of a id many visitors." e was finer than we seen, and at grandeur of my laxmnn had con- iainty furnishings • to me, after the jchool, a perfect o one of the deep e splendid stretch «re me. Drawing ( OAKLANDS. 21 a long sigh of perfect content, I exclaimed : " I know I shall bo happy here. How could I help it, with such pictures to h)ok iit? " "If you admire the scenery so much at first, what will your sensations bo when you have grown intimate with its beauty ? Nature enters into our humanity liko human acquaintances." " What do 3'ou mean ? " I asked, much mystified. " There are some places like some people — the more we study tliem the more they are admired, we are continually discovering hidden beauties. But you must study nature closely, at all hours and seasons, to discover her subtle cliarms." " Won't you teach mo what you have learned ? " " If I can do so I shall be glad ; but I think wo must each study her for ourselves. She has no text books that I have ever seen." " I wonder do we all see things alike ? Does that sea, now a sheet of rose and amethyst, and the sky that seems another part of the same, and the green trees, and hills, and rocks, look to you as they do to me ? " *' Not yet, my child. When you have studied them as long, and have the memories of years clus- tering around each well-remembered spot, they may look the same to you as they now do to me ; but not till then," she added, I fancied a little sadly. "Probably I shall enjoy this exquisite view 1 29 MShoLis A" .s K /, in- iV ' k wohk. better without the niciiuirics ; tliey UHually hold u Btiiig." -N^ »* Tluvt (lepondH on tho way wo nso lift!. To live art (io«l wills, loivvcs iiosliii^,' i'or after tlnm;,'lit." — "Not if death comcH and takt-s our Invcd oiuis? How alone I am in the world bccauso of him." " There arc far Hmhler exixMlcncert than yours. Death is not ulways our worst enemy ; we may have ft death in life, compared with whieh Death itself is an angel of light." " Oh, what a strange, sad thing life is at the best I Is it worth Injing born and suffering so much for all the joy we find ? " " No, indeed, if this life were all ; hut it is only the faint dawn of a brighter, grander existence, more worthy the gift of a God." " IJut we must die to get to that fuller, higher ll'o ; " I said, suddenly remembering poor lilako's dead wife. She smiled compassionately. " It is hard convincing you young people that even death may bo a tender friend, a welcome messenger. But we won't talk in this strain any longer, I scarce know why we drifted into it. I want your first impressions of home to be joyous, for they are apt to haunt us long after we make the discovery that they were not correct. " I wonder if you are not something of a phil- osopher ? I never heard any one talk just like you." w h a R o b 8 a u tl ti n a f( li f i r li f c y i yoitK. ' usually li(»l(l u uso lir(!. Tl) niftiT lli()ujj;lit." our liivi'tl onoH? lusn (if hiiu." iiCL'8 tliiiu yours. enemy ; wo may th whioh Dentil ing life is at tlio iinil suffering ho 11 ; but it is «)nly liimlei' existenee, hat fuller, liighor ring poor lilivko's roung people that •iend, n welcome u this strain any irifted into it. I ome to be joyous, ng after we make correct. ething of a phil- i,alk just like you." OAK LANDS. 2A W ''Certainly not iinyLliing so formidable, and learned as lliut. I am only a plain little woman, with no special miHsiuii oxcept to nuiko thusu around me happy." '• That is a very beautiful misshju, and I am sure you meet with success, which is nut the fate of every ona with a career." " Ah, if you begin praising me I must leave ; but fust let nje tell you dinner will bo served at six. Mr. Winthrop is a great student, and is already, for so young a man, a very successful author ; and ho likes dinner lato so as to have all the longer time for hard work, Tho evenings ho takes for light reading and rest." I nuist confess I was beginning to get afraid of my guardian. I expected to lind him in mannera and appearance something like our school pro- fessors, with a tendency to criticise my slender literary acquirements. However I proceeded with my toilet quite cheer- fully, and was rather glad than sorry that I hrtd found him absent from Oaklands ; but after I left my room and wandered out into the dim, spacious hall and down tho long stairway, the heavy, old- fashioned splendors of the house chilled me. How could I occupy mysek happily through the coming years in this great, gloomy house? I vaguely wondered, while life stretched out before my imagination, in long svnd tiresome perspective. 24 MEDOLINE SELWYN'8 WORK. With no school duties to occupy my time, my knowledge of amusements, needlework, or any other of the softer feminine accomplishments, ex- ceedingly limited, I was suddenly confronted with the problem how I was to fdl up the days and years with any degree of satisfaction. Hitherto every thought had been strained eagerly towards this home coming. After that fancy was a blank. Now I had got here, what then ? I had been a fairly industrious pupil and graduated with com- mendable success ; but it had been a tradition at our school that once away from its confinement, text-books and the weariness of study were at an end. I went out on the lawn, and was standing, a trifle homesick for the companionship of the merry crowd of schoolmates, when a side glance revealed to me an immense cfarden, such as I had often seen, but not near euuugh to sufficiently enjoy. I soon forgot my lonely fancies as I strayed admir- inglj' through the well kept walks, amid beds of old-fashioned sweet smelling flowers, which now- a-days are for the most part are relegated to the humble cottages ; but farther on I discovered the rarer plants of many climes, some of them old ac- quaintances, but others utter strangers, only so far as I could remember some of them from my lessons in botany. Still stretching beyond on the hill sido I saw the vegetable and fruit gardens. Huge straw- berry beds attracted me, the ripe fruit I found tempt- '^S!SBaS:«W«J" WORK. py my time, my (llework, or any •mplishments, ex- ■ confronted with up the days and iction. Hitherto eagerly towards ncy was a blank. ? I had been a luatcd with coni- 3en a tradition at its confinement, itudy were at an d was standing, a ship of the merry 3 glance revealed I as I had often ciently enjoy. I I strayed admir- ks, amid beds of rers, which now- relegated to the I discovered the ) of them old ac- iigers, only so far I from my lessons d on the hill sido ens. Huge straw- ait I found tempt- OAKLAND^. 25 ing; but feeling still a stranger, the old weakness that comes down to us from Mother Eve to reach forth and pluck, was restrained. " What a perfect Eden it is ! " I could not help exclaiming, though no ears save the birds, and multitudinous insects ex- istences, were withh) reach of my voice, and prob- ably for the latter, any sound I could make would be as luiheard by them as the music of the spheres must be to me until another body, with finer intuitions to catch such liarmonies, shall be pro- vided. Ere the dinner bell rang I found a new wonderland of beauty reaching aw.ay beyond me. To watch from early spring till winter's icy breath destroyed them, these multiplied varieties of vegv.- table life gradually passing through all their beautiful changes of bud and blossom, and ripened seed or fruit would be a training in some respects, equalling that of the schools. What higher lessons in botany I might take, day by day exploring the secrets of plant life ! I went back to the house in a happier mood than I had left it. At the dinner table I expressed, no doubt with amusing enthu- siasm, my gladness at this garden of delight. " You should become a practical botanist, Miss Selwyn. But then your heart might prove too tender to tear your pets to pieces in order to find out their secrets." " I did not know my heart was specially tender.' " I only judged so from your sympathy for the ;[' i 26 JiBDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. I I Blakes. Only think, mothei, Miss Sclwyn was prophesying the time when I should be mourning over a departed wife." " You must not mind Hubert, Miss Sclwyn. Ho is a sad tease, as wo all find to our sorrow. Ho has not had brothers or sisters since his childhood to teacli liini gentleness." " Only children are apt to be not very agreeable companions. We had some unplcjisaut specimens at school." " That is too hard on both of us, Miss Selwyn," he said ; ** but I must prove to you that I, at least, am a beautiful exception to the general rule." For the first time I looked up at him closely, and was struck with the handsome merry face. "Witli a very little effort you could make your- self very agreeable, I am sure," I said, with all seriousness. Even^^Mrs. Flaxman could not conceal her amuse- ment at my remark. "It is so refreshing to meet with such a frank young lady," Hubert said, with downcast eyes. I had a suspicion he was laughing at me. Presently he glanced at me, when I found the fun in his eyes contagious, and, though at my own expense, indulged in a heart}' laugh. " I wish you would tell me wheu I make myself ridiculous. I do not understand boys' natures. I scarce remember to have spoken a dozen consec- RK. lie downstairs r stylish young ,. riivxniiin. ly. I scarcely ot day, and I me to have ok so fmil." jot into an idle irriage ; and so , who in a very 36 awaiting my was a servant, pared my own e avenue I ven- ,y of the place ; )roud reserve I h remained un- 's door. While Loor Esmerelda ottage where a ance for every le with genuine close smelling a cheap carpet, worn horse-hair very new, aud ESMKRKLDA. ns very gay-looking clotli, comprised the furnishing, with the exception of walls decorated with cheap chromos in the most wonderful frames I ever saw, — some of them made of shells, some of leather, some of moss, and others simply covered with bright pieces of chintz. I longed to arrange them in more orderly fivshion. They were hanging crooked or too close together, not one of them in a proper way I decided, as I took a swift survey of the room. But presently my gaze was arrested, and all thought of pictures hung awry ceased ; for there, in a darkened corner of the room, I traced the rigid outlines of a human figure concealed beneath a sheet. "You brought these to put round the co pse?" Mrs. Blake questioned, suddenly bringing me back from my startled reverie. " Yes, if you would care for them." She lifted them out of the basket with a ten- derness that surprised me, and placed them in water ; she sat looking at them intently. " Do you admire flowers ? " I asked. " Oh, yes ; but they're useless things, I s'pose. No good once they're wilted." " But they are perfect while they last." " Yes, and I alius feels sorry for the poor things, when I see 'em put round a corpse and buried in the ground ; may be they have more feeling than we allow for." a 34 MKDOLINE SELWTN'a WORK. Sho spoke so sadly, I felt my eyes moisten ; but whether it wiis out of pity for the llowers, the poor dead woman lying opposite, or my friend Mrs. Dliike, who seemed striiugcly subdued, I could not tell. "Sho was gone when I got here," sho said, nodding her head at the corpse. " Dau'el's terrible cut up ; it minds me so of the time wo lost our first baby. I had to do everything then and I've got to do the same now." " I presume she was a very good wife." " I don't know. Men generally frets hardest after the uselessest ones. I s'poso it's because they're easy-going and good-natured ; but laws, I mustn't be hard. Mother-in-laws don't see with their children's eyes. I often think, in some ways, 'twould be best for one generation to die off afore the next takes their place. It's a mercy we don't live like they did in the first of Bible times. For poor women folk's life ain't much after fifty any way, specially if they're depending on their children. Hard work, shoved in a corner, and the bito you eat begrudged you." "Surely you don't speak from experience," I gasped, quite horrified. "Me? Oh, no. I've managed better'n most in my way of life. I help, instead of getting help. But I'm not thinking of myself all the time. I see other women's hardships, and pity 'em too." .i e o b d s^ u b t( Ol til fe m Bi WORK. cs mointen ; but llowers, the poor my frieiu.l Mr«. lued, I could uot liorc," alio said, Drtu'el's terriblo I wo lost our first en and I've got d wife." ily frets hardest )so it's because ured ; but laws, ra don't see with ik, ill some ways, I to die off afore srcy we don't live times. For poor sr fifty any way, II their children, and the bito you n experience, I better'n most in I of getting help, all the time. I pity 'em too." .{ E8MERKLDA, 88 She turned the conversati.tri abruptly by asking: " Would you like to see Iho corpse?" I certainly wished to see almost anything on earth rather than that; but, lest I should Iw offending the proprieties, I followed her and stood beside the still, outstretched form. She turned down the sheet when, for an instant, my head swam ; and then I shut firmly my eyes and stood until I concluded the ghastly spectacle was hidden behind the sheet. Mrs. Blake's voice caused me to open my eyes with a start. "Be you faint?" I crossed the room directly, and sat down before I replied. *' Certainly not; but the sight was a painful one." " I know there's a sight of difference in corpses. Perfessors of religion make the i)eace fullest." "Was she not one?" "Well, no ; and she was took so bad she hadn't time to perfess. Beside Dan'el tells me she suf- fered uncommon till the very last breath, that makes her look more distressin' than she would." " Is he a professor ? " " No, my family didn't seem to lean that way. But my ! they was a sight l)etter'n some that did lot on they was very good." " He will become a Christian now, surely." "Tain't likely. One soon forgets the feelins :'«;.'^r i 86 UKhOUNE RELWYN'H WORK. death Ioiivoh, and tlicii wo nil look for a qniotfipoll ftfoit! wo die." I ftdt as if hkolotoi-. tinK<'>H wero cliitchiiif? at my vitals ; and altogether terrified I rose to go. " The funeral will bo to-morrow at two o'clock ; perliajjs you wouldn't mind coming?" »'If you would like mo to attend, I wdl do so." " I don't know why it Ih, but 8eom8 to me it would be a comfort to have you. Quality always could touch my heart better'n my own kind." " You may bo reckoned among that claau in the next world." She 8t(.od in the doorway, her eyes turned wist- fully towards the setting sun. " 1 hain't thought much alK>ut that world. I know it's a mistake to live as I've done." I wished so much I could recommend her to a better way of life ; but remembering that I too wtis living only for this world, I could say nothing. Pressing her ha ' gently I turned to leave, when I saw Esnuaelda coming out of the door after me. The rigid form I had looked at and Mrs. Blake's words had softened my heart ; so I tried once more to chat jdeivsantly with my escort ; but prob- ably she had not got the same lesson as I, for she put on as many airs as before. When I met Mre. Flaxman I inquired what Esmorelda's position was in the household. To my astonishment she said : ti fn tl: n( 01 hi til A tr d< th sc to Ol re \v d( VORK. for a qniot spoil (II'. tingcis weio [ether terrified I at two o'clock ; 1, 1 will do BO." Rccins to nio it Quality ulwaya own kind." that claMti in the •yea turned vist- I hiiin't thought it's a niiatake to mmend her to a )ering that I too louldsay nothing. turned to leave, out of the door , and Mrs. Blake's so I tried once escort ; but prob- jsson as I, for she When I met Mre. jlda's position was slnnent she said : KSMKUKl.DA. n "She is tho cluunluMiiiaid." "Ihit isslio a lady ?" *' Every one that i-an dress Itcconiinj^ly olainiH that title with us; I presume IvsnitTclda with llio rest." "But luT niotlier?" I left llio sentence un- finished. " Lives on Mill Uoad and takes in washing." "Don't you think it is wiser lo keep servants in their proper place as they do in Kuropo? One is not in danger there of mistaking maid for mistress." "Ah, that is a problem for wiser heads than ours to solve. Each system has its grievances ; if Iiuman nature had not suffered so seviirely from tho original transgression I should favor tho American plan." "But it has' fallen, and requires generations of training to fit one for such assumption of dignity." " Even so, we come on debatable ground. Where do you find longer lines of trained generations than in those Royal families that cost 3'ou8o much so support, and what do many of them amount to ? Plow many of them would it take to make one Lincoln ? Ho was a peasant's son, as they reckon rank." " But there are not many Lincolns ; and I fear we can find a good many Esmereldas." " She is a very good chambermaid. What fault do you find with her ? " I smiled, though utterly discomfited. I , I M" ' ■m 38 MEDOLINE SELWry'S nOHK. I, IS a i if f I- s "A fault one cannot easily forgive. She im- presses me with her own superiority, especially in the matter of dress." "Yes, our shop and servant girls are usually good artists in the matter of personal attire ; but I usually find the really clever ones are the poorest dressers." " Is not that the case with others than they ? Persons who have more enduring objects of con- templation than peraonal attire do not bestow enough time on how they shall robe themselves to excel in dressing artistically." "I know that; but since Eve's fig-leaf invention the matter of dress has been an absorbing one for nearly every generation." " In the main ; but there have been beautiful exceptions all down the long stream of the ages. I met some literary women the last time I was visiting in England, and their minds seemed so far superior to their bodies, or the clothes they wore, that ever since I have been ashamed of myself when I get particularly interested in what I am to wear." " You are young, my child, to begin to philoso- phize on the matter of clothes. You have read Sartor Resai*tus ? " " Oh, yes, and I want to be something better than a mere biped, without feathers." !i nOHK. •rgive. She ini- ity, especially in iris are usually onal attire ; but s are the poorest hers than they ? ^ objects of con- do not bestow be themselves to fig-leaf invention bsorbiiig one for 3 been beautiful 3am of the ages, last time I was Ids seemed so far othes they wore, lamed of myself . in what I am to begin to philoso- You have read something better rs." •'•^r-l»»rr^sI«^■ci«!Sa^^«mralB^i';«Rii3!B!9^S»B^^ V!^ ESMER ELDA. 39 " To want is the first step toward the accomplish- ment. I think you will suit Mr. Winthrop after he gets to know you, if ever he does," she added) after a pause. W I I in I ■'m 'if' .' ■ill' I CHAPTER IV. THE FUNEllAL. HHE next morning I went in search of Mrs. Fluxnmn. I found her busy superin- tending, along with tlie housekeeper, some extensive pickling and i)reserving operations. I hesitated at first in making my request ; I wanted her to accompany me to the funeral. " I promised Mrs. Blake to go to her daughter's funeral to-day, and I should so much like to have you go with me," I said. "If you would like my company, your liking shall be gratified, my dear." "But you looked tired, and it is such a hot day." " I shall want folk to come and get me safely planted away some day, and we can take the car- riage. Thomas will be glad to go ; at least he always wants to attend funerals. Such persons usually are fond of the mild excitement attendant on such gatherings." n search of Mrs. r busy superin- 10 housekeeper, rving operations, (quest ; I wanted •al. ;o her daughter's iich like to have Einy, your liking it is such a hot d get me safely [in take the car- go ; at least he . Such persons ;enjent attendant THE FUNERAL. ■' 1 41 I went in search of Thomas, who was with coachman and gardener, having a lad to assist him in both occupations. He assured me that work was very pressing, and it would be at considerable personal sacrifice if he went. The stable boy, a red-haired, keen-faced youth standing by, gave a quizzical look, which I interpreted as meaning that Thomas wished to conceal the fact that he was very glad indeed to go to Mrs. Daniel Blake's funeral. At the appointed hour I found myself in a carriage drawn by a pair of horses fully as handsome, but much more sedate than Faery. " Why, this is positively luxurious," I exclaimed, leaning back in the very comfortable carriage. Mrs. Flaxman smiled serenely. "My dear, it is a luxury you may every day enjoy. I am not inclined for carriage exercise — a walk has greater charm for me save when I am tired." " If you had walked all your life — only enjoying a carriage at brief intervals during the holidays, you would enjoy this drive, I am sure." " Your life is not a very long affair, my child. At your age, no doubt, I thought as you now do. I believe God intended that youth and age should see th'S tvorld through different eyes." Mi-s. Flaxman, I was finding, had a way ( f setting me thinking about serious things, an'': yet the thoughts were mainly pleasant ones. She was 42 M EDO LINE SELWYN'S WOEK. i i I t m i different from any one I ever knew. I found her presence so restful. I liad tlie impression that some time in lier life she liad encountered storms, but the mastery had been gained ; and now she had drifted into a peaceful harbor. Looking back now over longer stretches of years and experi- ences than I then had, I can recall a few other pei"sons who impressed me in a similar fashion. But they were rare and beautiful exceptions to the scores, and even hundreds of average human folk whom I have known. After we had driven some distance, Tliomas turned to inquire if we were going to the grave. " It is a shady drive good part of the way ; trees on one side and the water's edge bordering the other. Perhaps we might as well go." " They'd take it very kind of you, ma'am, I am sure," Thomas responded, although her remarks were addressed to me. Evidently he was very willing to exercise tiie horses, notwithstanding his press of work. We sat in the carriage at the door of Daniel's cottage. The house seemed full, and quite a crowd were standing outside. " They have shown the poor thing a good deal of respect," Mrs. Flaxnian whispered to me as she glanced at the numerous assemblage. Suddeiiiy, on tlie hush that seemed to enfold everything, there bro^e weu'd, discoixlant singing mm muM i Mii. I MM ■^ I Jte SIWiaMBUB jIIW. Ii gg i^t^ggQQi*"?! . VORK, f. I found her impression that untered storms, ; and now she Looking back iirs and experi- all a few other similar fashion. 1 exceptions to average human stance, Tlionias to the grave. f the way ; trees 3 bordering the go." ■ u, ma'am, I am fh lier remarks Y he was very withstanding his loor of Dfiniel's [, and quite a ng a good deal ed to me as she ^e. imed to enfold coi-dant singing THE FUNERAL. 43 — women's voices sounding high and piercing, tlio men's deeper and more melodious. Tlie hymn they sang was long, and the air very plaintive, bringing tears to my eyes, and causing tlie strange, oppressed feeling of the preceding day to return. When the singing ceased I noticed the men re- moving their hats, and a moment after a stentorian voice speaking loudly. I glanced around amazed, but Mrs. Flaxman noticing my surprise, whispered, " It is prayer." If the singing made me nervous the prayer intensified the feeling. In the hot, midsummer air, so still the leaves scarce rippled on the trees, I could, after a few seconds, distinguish every word the man uttered. Accustomed to the dec- orous prayer of the German pastors our teachers had taken us to hear, this impetuous prayer to the Deity awed me. He talked with the invisible Jehovah as if they two were long tried friends, be- tween whom there was such perfect trust ; what- ever the man asked the God would bestow. First there was intercession, pleading for forgiveness for past offences, and for restraining grace for future need^. Afterward he spoke of Death, the common inheritance of each of us, and the pain his entrance had caused in this home, and then followed thanksgiving that through Christ we could conquer even Death himself. I shall never forget the ti-iumphant ring in that man's voice as he 44 MEDOLINE SELWYN'a WORK. r.; ■|*^' passed on to the joy of those who, trampling on Death, have i)assed safely within the light of God. "If one of the old masters had heard that man's prayer to-day, he would have set it to some grjind music. It reminds me of a Te Deum or oratoria," I said to Mrs. Flaxman, when the benediction was pronounced. The tears were in her eyes, but her face was shining as if some innor light were irradi- ating it. "Did you ever hear so impetuous a prayer? " I asked. She answered my question by asking another : "Did you not like it?" " I think it frightened me. The clergyman seemed to bo talking to some one right beside him." " Is not all prayer that — talking, pleading with a God nigh at hand ? " I did not reply. My eyes were fastened on the crowd now issuing from the cottage door; the coffin, carried by men, came first, the people press- ing hurriedly after — among them one whom I instinctively felt to be the clergyman — a thick-set man with hair turning white, and a most noble, benignant face. As the procession formed he took his place at the head ; Daniel and his mother climb- ing into a wagon directly behind the hearse ; the former looked utterly broken down, as if the light of his eyes had verily been quenched. trampling on I light of God. ird that man's to some grand t or oratoria," jnediction was • eyes, but her ht were irradi- a prayer ? " I king another: he clergyman 3 right beside pleading with istened on the ige door ; the le people press- one whom I m — a thick-set a most noble, formed he took I mother climb- he hearse ; the as if the light id. THE FUNERAL. ■ ..jJtxr-t awj tf gg -'-yrrg 40 » J i i 'i ■■i fww tWa W The procession then moved slowly along, and in a shor'u time we turned out of the Mill Road, and into a beautiful shady street along the water's edge. I watched the sunlight on the shimmering waters, and far across, where one of the wooded headlands looked down into the sea, the green trees made such a picture on the water that, in watching this perfect bit of landscape, I found myself forgetting the solemn occasion, and the sorrowing heart of the solitary mourner, while I planned to come there the very next day with ray sketch book, and secure this gem to send to my favorite teacher as a specimen of my new surround- ings. And then fancy got painting her own pict- ures as to what my work in tliis new life with its greatly altered meaning should be, and before we had reached the grave's edge I had mapped out my ongoings for a long stretch of the future, and that in such eager, worldly fashion that I almost forgot that at the end of all this bright-hued future there lay for me, as well as for Daniel Blake's wife, an open grave. My busy thoughts were recalled by hearing the penetrating voice of the preacher say- ing "dust to dust, ashes to ashes," with the re- mainder of the beautiful formula used by many of the churches in planting the human germ. A glance around revealed Daniel Blake leaning in the very abandonment of grief on a tombstone at the gra\ e's side, and looking down into the coffin that > ' h I *!% 46 MEDOLINE BELWTN'S WORK. was rapidly disappearing under the shovelfuls of clay. A keen sense of my own heartlessness in feeling so happy within touch of such woe came over me, while a vague wonder seized me, if some other careless - hearted creatures might not be planning their joys some day in presence of my breaking heart. I shovelfuls of iartlessness in ich woe came id me, if some night not be esenoe of my CHAPTER V. 1 1 A NEW ACCOMPLISHMENT LEARNED. WAS rapidly attaining the comfortable home feeling at Oiiklands, which makes life in castle or hut a rapture. There werr so many sources of enjoyment ojien to me. T nad a more than usual love for painting, and had for years prosecuted the art more from love than duty. My last teacher, an old German Pro- fessor, exacting and very thorough, had been as particular with my instruction as if my bread de- pended on my proficiency. I thanked him now in my heart when I found myself shut out from other opportunities for improvement than what, unaided, I could secure. There were special bits of landscape I loved to sketch over and over again ; these I would take to Mi-s. Flaxman, or Reynolds, the housekeeper, to see if they could recognize the original of my drawing ; but even Samuel, the stable-boy, could name the spot at MM 'W .i 48 MKDOLINE SELWrirS WORK. t i sight. His joy was unbounded, but scarcely ex- celled my own when I succeeded in making a water-color sketch of himself, the hair a shade or two less flame-colored than was natural, and which even Hubert pronounced a very fair likeness. Then in the large, stately drawing-room, some of whose furnishing dated back a century or more, stood a fine, grand piano. Here I studied over again my school lessons, or tried new ventures from some of tlio masters. What dreams I had in that dim room in the pauses of my music ; peo- pling that place again with the vanished ones who had loved and suffered there my own dead parents among the rest, whose faces looked down at me, I thought tenderly, from the walls where their portraits hung in heavy carved frames, of a fashion a generation old. There wjvs about my mother's face a haunting expression, as of a well known face which long afterward looked out at me one day from my own redection in the mirror and then, to my joy, I discovered I was like her in feature and expression. In the library too, whose key Mr. Winthrop had left with Mrs. Flaxman for my use, I found an unexplored wonderland. My literature had chiefly consisted of the text book variety, and if I had possessed wider range, my time was so fully occupied with lessons I could not have availed myself of the privilege ; but now, with what relish I went from RK. t scarcely ex- in making a lair a shade or ml, and which fair likeness, room, some of itnry or more, studied over new ventures reams I had in r music ; peo- shed ones who ly own dead i looked down e walls where id frames, of a was about my in, as of a well looked out at L in the mirror I was like her le library too, jft with Mrs. in unexplored hiefly consisted had possessed occupied with myself of the ish I went from A NEW ACCOMPLTfUlMEyT LEAnNKD. 4$ shelf to shelf, di])piiig into a book here and an- otlier tlieic, takinjr by turn.s poetry, history, fiction, and biogrui)hy, Shakespaaro and Milton had so often perplexed me in Grammar and an- alysis, that I left them for the most part severely alone; but tiiere were others, fresh and new to me ns a June morning, and quite as refreshing : Hubert used sometimes to join me, but we gener- ally disagreed. I had little patience with his practical criticisms of my choicest readings, while he assured me my enthusiasm over my favorite authors was a clear waste of sentiment. Mrs. Flaxman was, in addition to all this, adding to my fund of knowledge the very useful one of needlework, and was getting me interested not only in the mysteries of plain sewing, but brought some of her carefully hoarded tapestries for mi; to im- itate—beautiful Scriptural scenes that sent me to the Bible with a critical interest to see if the de- signs were in harmony with its spirit. Then too I used to spend liappy hours exploring garden, field and forest, for Oakiands embraced a wide area, making acquaintance with the gentle Alder- neys, and Jerseys, who brought us so generously tlieir daily ofTering, as well as the many other meek, dumb creatures whom I was getting to care for with a quite huniau interest. The -Jea-shore too had its constantly renewed fascinations which drew mo tliere, to watch its tireless ebb and flow, 4 }', 'I 60 MKDOLINK SELWYN'S WOJtK. it or the buay craft diHaiipuiiriiig out of sight to- wardn their inuiiy haveiiH around the earth. Stories I had for the sea- shore, and others for the woodland and gardens wliicli I carried on in h)ng chapters, (hiy after day, until sorrowfully I came to the end, as we must always do to everything in tltis world. My heroes and heroines were all singularly busy people, carrying on tiieir loves and intrigues amid restless activities, and living in the main to help others in the way of life rather than, like myself, living to themselves alone. Altogether I did not find a moment of my sixteen hours of working life each day any too long, and opened my eyes on eac^ morning's light as if it were a fresh creation. Then, in addition to all these, there were solemn, stately tea drinkings among the upper ten of Cavendish society, but usually I found them a task — the music was poor, the conversation almost wholly confined to local affairs, and the only re- fection of a first-class nature was the food provided. Cavendish ladies were notable housewives, and could converse eloquently on pickling, preserving, baking and the many details of domestic economy, while as regarded the fashions, I verily believe they could have enlightened Worth himself on some important particulars. I used to feel sadly out of place, and sat very often silent and con- DJtK. At of sight to- ld the eivrth. others for the lied on in long (wfully I canio i everytliing in all singularly i and intrigues in the main to ther than, like Altogether I cteen hours of J, and opened as if it were a re were solemn, upper ten of found them a ersation almost id the only re- 3 food provided, ousewivea, and ing, preserving, lestic economy, [ verily believe I'th himself on 3d to feel sadly silent and con- A yKW ACCOMPLISIIMEST LKAIINKD. M strained, thinking of my dearer, and more satisfying companionships of books, and sea, and llowei-s, and the fair face of nature generally, and wondering if I could ever get, like them, absorbed in such hunihlo things, getting for instance my pickles nicely greened, and of a proper degree of crisj)- ness, and my preserves, ftiid jollies prepared with equal perfection for diseased and fastidious palates. "Why can't tlioy talk of their minds, and the food these must relish, and assimiLite, instead of all the time being devoted to the body ; how it must be fed and clothed?" I asked, with perhaj)8 too evi- dent contemjit, of Mrs. Flaxiiiiui, one evening as we drove home under the midnight stars, after one of these entertainments. " My child, it is natural that people should talk on subjects that most interest them. Not every one hjis vision clear enough to penetrate beyond the tangible and visible." " Then, in what are the Cavendish aristocracy better than Mrs. liluke, and that class ? Even she talks sometimes to me about God and the soul. Slie says she and Daniel think a great deal about thetio of late." "God only knows; they may be far better in His sight than any of us," Mrs. Flaxnian said, wearily. " Not any letter tlian you, dear friend," I said, clasping the little, thin hand in mine. i ■•)■ es MBDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. "I ■f i' c i " Yes, better, if they are doing more for others than I, Gacriticing their own cjuse and pleasure, which, alas, I am not doing." " How can you say that, when you are making home, and me so happy ? I want to grow to be just such a woman as you." " Alas, child, you must take a higher ideal than I am to pattern after, if your life is to be a suc- cess." " Mrs. Blake tells me of a good man living on the Mill Road, who is blind and thinks a great deal. He says none of us can tell what our lives seem like to the angels, and that many a one will get an overwhelming surprise after death ; some who think they are no good in the world, mere cumberei-3 of the ground, will find such bhissed surprises as they wander through the Heavenly places." ♦' That lit very comforting, dear, if we could only hope to be among those meek ones." " He told Mrs. Blake she might be one of God's blessed ones if she wished — that any sincere soul was welcomed by Him." " Surely you did not need to go to Mrs.^Blake to learn that ? " I was silent, perhaps ashamed for Mrs. Flaxman to know how very dense my ignorance was respect- ing these mysteries of our holy religion. As the weeks went by my friendship for Mrs. Blake YORK. more for others 3 and pleasure, you are making to grow to be ligher ideal than is to be a suc- I man living on thinks a great II what our lives nany a one will ter death ; some the world, mere md such bl'issed [h the Heavenly , if we could only IS." b be one of God's . any sincere soul fo to Mrs. J31ake or Mrs. Flaxman ance was respect- religion. As the for Mrs. Blake NEW ACCOMPLISHMENT LEARNED. 53 strengthened. I kept her little cottage brightened with the old-fashioned blossoms that she loved best. " They mind me so of when I was a child, and the whole world seemed in summer time like a great garden. We lived deep in the country, just a little strip of ground brought in from the woods, and all round our little log house was the green trees," she said one day, the pleasant reflec- tive look that I liked to see coming info her kind, strong face. I -ised to sit and listen to her homely, uncultivated speech, and wonder why I liked her so much better than my natural associates. She was so real, I could not imagine her try- ing to appear other than she was. Some way she seemed to take me back to elementary things, like the memories of childhood or the reading of the Book of Genesis. Then she had so changed Danel's cottage— newly papered, whitewashed and thoroughly cleansed with soap and water, it seemed one of the cosiest, homeliest places I ever saw. I only went in the afternoons, and her housework then was always done ; but she was never idle. I used to watch her knitting stockings of all sizes with silent curiosity ; but one day I asked who a tiny pair of scarlet ones was for. " Mrs. Larkum s baby. The poor things are in desperate trouble," she replied. " But do you knit for other folks ? " " Yes, fur some. Them I jest finished is fur on© 64 MEDOLINS SELWYN'S WOliK. '11 ■t 1 of the Cliisties' down the lane. Any size from one to ten fits tliere." "Are they able to pay you?" I ventured to in- quire. "I don't ginerally knit for folks as can pay. It's a pity for little feet to go bare because the mother was thriftless or overworked." I watched the bi >y fingers a little sadly, com- paring them with my own daintily gloved hands, that liad never done anything more useful tlum to hold a text book, or sketch, or practice on the ivory keys, while those other hands often tired, calloused with hard usage, had been working un- selfishly through the years for others. " I wish you would ti ich me to knit,'' I said one day, ^dized with a sudden inspiration. " 'Twould Ije a waste of your time. Folks like you don't wear home-knit stockings." " Oh, yes they do. Pretty silken hose is quite the fashion ; but I hire mine knitted." " Then what makes you want to learn ? " "Do you not think it is my duty to work for the poor, and helpless as well as yours ? " " I won't allow but what it is ; but laws ! rich folk can't pity the poor, no more'n a person that's never been sick, or had the tooth-ache, can pity one who has." " The stockings would be just as warm, though, as if I knew all about their sorrows." 'I 1 'ORK. Any size from ventured to in- ks as can pay. ,re because the d." ;tlo sadly, com- f gloved hands, } useful tlum to practice on the ids often tired, en working un- jrs. init," I said one on. me. Folks like ;s." sn hose is quite ed." learn?" uty to work for ours r ; but laws ! rich L a person that's i-ache, can pity 3 warm, though, rs." .uMJi n -i j iN*! ' ii i i iii0»0, j m m ' f'' j Xf^^0/f^ . A NEW ACCOMPLISHMENT LEAdNED. 66 "I reckon they'd feel better on some feet if they hnow'd your white hands knit 'em." " If there would be any added pleasure to the warmth of the docks then you will surely teach me." " I'll be proud to do it ; but child, I'm afeard you are making me think too much of you. Byem- bye when you get interested in other things, you won't care to set in my kitchen, and listen to an old-fiishioned body like me, droning away like a bee in a bottle." " Do you think it is necessary to trouble about something that may never come to psvss ? I think I shall always enjoy hearing you talk. Listening to you seems like watching the old-fashioned flowers nodding their heads in the drowsy summer air. I like the rare flow^irs, too, with long names and aristocratic faces ; but I don't think I shall ever like (hem so well as to forget the happy fancies their humble relations bring. " Thank you, dearie. I guess you'll allays keep a warm place in your heart for the old-fashioned folks as well as the posies." •'Now that we have that matter settled, sup- pose I begin the knitting," I said, without any further attempt at convincing Mrs. Blake of my unalterable regard. She got me the yarn and needles and I straightway proceeded to master anothef of the domestic sciences. 56 MEDOLINE 8ELWYN'8 WORK. r - I' I was soon able to turn the seam, and knit plain ; but was forced to stop very often to admire my own handicraft. However, I got on so readily that she allowed I could undertake a child's sock. I wanted it to look pretty as well as to be comfort- able, and not fancying Mrs. lilake's homespun yarn, I started out to the store to get some bet- ter suited to my liking. When I returned, Mrs. IJlake exclaimed at the size of my bundle, assuring me that it would supply me with work for months. "I'm surprised you wan't asliamed to carry such a big parcel," she said admiringly. '* It did not occur to me to be ashamed." " One never knows who they may meet though." " It was nothing to be ashamed of." "I s'pose not; but quality has such queer notions." " I do not wish to be quality if that is the case ; I want to be a sensible woman, and a useful one," I said, as I proceeded to wind my yarn from Mra. Blake's outstretched arms. In a short time I had the pleasu e of seeing a pretty little sock evolving itself out of the long strand of yarn. Mi-s. Blake finding me anxious to be helpful to her poor neigh- bors, began unfolding histories from time to time, as I sat in her tidy kitchen, that to me seemed to rise to the dignity of tragedies. Sometimes I begged to accompany her to these sorrowful homes. t RK. d knit plain ; to admire my 80 readily that liild's sock. I to be comfort- e's homespun get some bet- laimed at the would supply to cany such imed." meet tliough." s such queer it is the case ; useful one," I rn from Mi-s. )rt time I had sock evolving Mi-s. Blake ler poor neigh- time to time, ne seemed to Sometimes I rowful homes. A NEW ACCOMPLISUMENT LEARNED. 67 The patience under overwhelming sorrow that I saw at times, gave nie new glimpses into the pos- sibilities of human endurance, and my 8ymi)athies were so wrought upon, I set about trying to earn money myself to help alleviate their wants, while a new field of work stretched out before me in bewildering persjiective ; and sometimes I wished I too had a hundred iiaiuls, like a second Briareus, that I might manufacture garments for half-clad women and children. '.< \:\ .\ J lit ! 'if 'I I ii • ' iw J I •It ' iiif'f!i>' . ■■! ■■■■:; •ill ,■'<-:■■ CHAPTER VI. t 1^ MR. WINTHKOP. I HAT evening, my first knitting lesson ended, on returning to Oaklands a sur- prise awaited me. As I was walking briskly up the avenue towards the house I met Hubert with Faery coming to bring me home. " Mr. Winthrop has come, and is inquiring very particularly where you are in hiding, and I believe my poor mother is afraid of telling him an untruth, for she hurried me off very unceremoniously after you," Hubert said, as he reined up Faery for a moment's conversation. " You need have no fears for her ; she would go to the stake rather than tell a lie." " Or betray a friend," Hubert said, with a mean- ing smile. "Remember Mr. Winthrop is very fastidious about liis associates. Your friend Mrs. Blake, in his eyes, has only a bare right to exist ; to presume on his friendship, or that of his ward, would be an unpardonable sin," tr knitting lesson Daklands a sur- I was walking he house I met g me home. i inquiring very ig, and I believe him an untruth, moniously after up Faery for a r ; she would go id, with a mean- nthrop is very aur friend Mrs. ) right to exist ; at of liis ward, t f? Mil. WINTIlIiOP. 09 " I must hasten to your mother's relief," I said, with a little scoffing laugh. I paid very little need just then to Hubert's remarks— later I found he had not greatly overstated my guardian's exclusive- ness. Wishing to gain my room and make some additions to my toilet before meeting Mr. Win- throp, I chose a side entrance, taking a circuitous path through the shrubbery, if possible to reach the house unseen. The door opened into a conservatory, and I had just slipped in stealthily when I found myself face to face with a gentleman whom I knew on the in- stant was my guardian. There was such an air of proprietorship about him, as he stood calmly sur- veying nature's beautiful products in leaf and bud and blossom. He glanced down at me — possibly taking me at first for one of the maids — then look- ing more keenly he bowed rather distantly. I re- turned the salutation quite as coldly, and was mak- ing good my flight when his voice arrested my steps. " Pardon me," he said, in a finely modulated and veiy musical voice, " is this not Miss Selwyn? " I turned and bowing said, " My guardian, I think." " I am glad we were able to recognize each other." I looked into his face. The smile was very win- ning that greeted me, otherwise I thought the face, though handsome, and unusually noble looking, was cold, and a trifle hard in expression, ,ii ' ::'.'l\' '&■ '^1 , 11 -gif ^*4 "4 CO MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. " I am glad to welcome you to Oaklauds, though late in being able to do so. I hope you have not found it too dull ? " " Oh no, indeed- — thtu'o is so much to interest one Lere after city life, I am glad at each new day that comes." Ho looked surprised at my remark, and instantiy I bothougi't myself of the character for fastidious- ness wliii'h Hubert had given him, and resolved to be less impulsive ni expressing my feelings. " You must make society for yourself then in other than the human element. I cannot think any one could rejoice, on waking in the morning, merely to renew intercourse with our Cavendisii neighbors." I looked np eagerly — " Then you don't care for them, either ? " " Ah, I see it is not from your own species you draw satisfaction." " But you have not answered my question." There wjis a gleam of humor swept ovar the face I was already finding so hard to read. " I am not well enough versed in Cavendish so- ciety to give a just opinion — probably you havo already drunk mo-e cups of tea with your friends than I have done in ten years. Let me hear your verdict." " Our Deportment Prciessor assured 1.3 it v/a^ \) i V ORK. iklaiids, though you have not ach to interest t each new day , and iiistanu^ for fastidions- md resolved to feelings. ourself then in cannot think I the morning, our Cavendish don't care for m\ species you question." .vopt over the read. 1 Cavendish so- ably you havo :h your friends b me hear your ired 1.3 it v/a^ t.jih;| \W4 ,;■''*.'■ , » 62 MEBCLINE aSLWTira WORK. " I am the daughtor of u man; jxwsibly I may have inherited some noble, manly properties." My temper was getting ruflied. "Yes, Nature i)lay8 some curious freaks occa- sionally," he said in a reflective way, as if we were discussing some scientific subject "You will please excuse me. Dinner will be announced shortly, and I must remove my wraps," I said, very politely. He bowed, and I gladly escaped to my own room, feeling more stiutled than pleased at my first interview with Mr. Winthrop. The dinner bell rang, and I hastened down to be in my place at the table before Mr. Winthrop entered. I opened the door of the pretty break- fast parlor wliere dinner had been served ever since I came tu Oaklands, but the room was silent and empty. I turned, not very gladly to the great dining- room, which I had somehow fancied was only used on rare occasions. Opening the door I saw the table shining with silver and glass, while Mrs. Flaxman stood surveying the arrangements with an anxious face. " Shall we always dine here ? " I asked anxiously. '■ Always when Mr. Winthrop is at home ; our informal dinners in the cosy breakfast-room arc u thing of the past." " But tins seems so formal and grand I shall r rORK. isibly I may have roperties." My ous freaks occa- ay, as if we were Dinner will be love my wraps," ped to my own I pleased at my I. astened down to re Mr. Winthrop he pretty break- jerved over since 1 was silent and he great dining- }d was only used door I saw the lass, while Mrs. rangements with ays dine here ? " IS at home ; our ikfast-room arc a id grand I shall MR. n'mniRop. flS never enjoy your delicious dishes any more, with Hubert adding to their piquancy with his sarcasms, and witticisnw." " Oh, yes, dear, you will ; one gets used to everything in this world, even to planning every day for several courses at di. ner," she said with a sigh. " I wonder why it is necessary to go to so much trouble just for something to eat, when it's all over in a half h J ms. Mim. LAUKUM. 85 1 will have to ur gifts carted r a tithe of what 8?" ppealingly; for lie. He smiled ts to go to work Mr.Winthrop?" . it is to be poor, for vegetables." rest drop in their Ve were walking our progress was I would gladly 'avendish to have rery difficult task- not to be drawn ;h Mr. Wintlirop, his merciless way jught me face to. ; the crowd con- boys ; only a man ni\\ their baskets ; ss of a lialf day in \ the Mill wouhl bo poorly compensated by the garden stuff they would gut. IMrs. Blake was there, — a crape veil hanging sideways from her bonnet, which I took as a mark of respect for Daniel's wife. She carried no basket; and, from the compassionate look on her face, I concluded she came with the hope to lighten my task, if possible. I went directly to her, and shook her hand as cor- dially as if she had been one of our bluest Wooded Cavendish aristocracy. I saw her cast a half fright- ened glance at Mr. Wintlirop, but my fearless manner seemed to reassure her, as she soon re- gained her customary coolness of demeanor. I nodded cordially to the rest of the group who all seemed just then to be gazing at me in a very heli> less manner. I endeavored to comport myself as the easy hostess dispensing the hospitalities of my home to a party of welcome visitoi-s ; but with Mr. WintUiup watching my eve y movement I found the task to do so herculean. The gardener stood watching the crowd in a helpless way, apparently as uncertain what to do first as any of them. I looked towards Mr. Winthrop ; but he seemed deeply interested, judging from his attitude and expression, in tying up a branch of an overbur- dened pear tree ; but he kept his face turned stead- ily towards me all the time, I could not help observing. " What shall I do ? " I whispered to Mi-s. Blake. 'l! i.i 1 fj U' a hi it 86 MEnOLINE SKLWYN'S WORK. " Tell them to come forred and fill their baakcls." I eleareJ my throat, and stepping np to tlio gar- dener said : " If you will please come now, we wiil fill your baskets." At first no one moved; then a delicate, pretty looking woman, with red-rimmed eyes and a baby in her arms came timidly forward. " "What would you like best ? " I asked. " Oh, I can't tell ; they all look so good." "We are going to send all of this that is left around to your homes in a wagon." " I might take some of these," she said, pointing longingly to the apples and pears. The baby was stretching its pinched little arms out to them, and cooing in a pitiful, suppressed way, as if it realized it and must be on its good behavior." I took the little creature in my arms ; its clothes were clean, but BO thin and poor, my heart ached, while I looked at them. I gave it my watch, which it carried with all speed to its mouth ;' but a soft, delicious p^ar which I picked from the very limb Mr. Winthrop had been supporting, caused it to drop the watch indifferently. " Don't you feel sorry for this little crumb of humanity?" I impulsively asked, forgetting too speedily my determination not to converse with him more than was really necessary. " Did Madame Buhlman give you lespons in philanthropy along with drawing and music ? " VOliK. U their baakets." ig up to the giu- nie now, wo will , iloliciite, pnitly eyes unci ii b;iby I asketl. so good." this that is left slie saitl, pointing , Tlie baby was out to tlicm, anil y, as if it realized vior.' I took tlie othes were clean, ed, while I looked ich it carried with )ft, delicious p«ar nb Mr. Winthrop o drop the watch s little crumb of id, forgetting too to converse with try. e you lespons in r and music ? " MliS. LARKUM. 87 "Oh no, indeed; but 1 hope God has. I don't want my heart to be a rock like " — and then I shut my mouth and with moist eyes and ilushed face turned abnii)tly from liim. I swallowed down my tears, but my heart was too sore to i)lay any longer with the baby, so 1 slipped it back into its mother's arms, who had got her basket filled and was ready to start for home ; a neighbor's lad liad come to carry it for her, and with quite a cheerful face she bade me good-bye. The rest of my crowd had got their baskets filled, and paused with longincj ovi-s regarding the heaps that still remained. 1 made their faces grow sud- denly much brighter as, v. iili a slight elevation o*" voice, I said : " Thomas will carry the rest of thesu vegetables around for you with the horses. You will please stand at your doors, and, as he drives along, come out for it." There was a subdued muii'r^ur of thanks, and then they started home- wards. Mrs. Blake waited a few moments behind them to look around the old place where she had spent so many days, and shook hands with Thomas who remembered her very distinctly. " It's odd doings for Oakhuids having yon crowd come with their baskets," he said, grimly; "the young miss be like to turn things topsy-turvey." "It's high time somebody did; what kind of reckonins will folks liave bime-by, of all their riches, and overplus, and so many of their own fi! 88 MEDOLINK SEl.WYN'S WORK. w .if I'! r I i ;t f? kind of flesh and blood going hungry and naked?" "Their reckonins bo none in my line. I sees to the roots and posies, that they thrive ; and thcro my work ends." "Yes, posies arc fed and sheltered, and little human creetura like the widow Lurkuni's there can starve for all the great folks cares. Deary me ! it's a terble onjointcd sort of world; seems to me I could regilato things better myself. Well, a good afternoon, Mr. Prime." " Good afternoon," Mr. Prime coldly responded. Plainly he did not enjoy Mrs. Blake's freedom of speech. I felt my trespasses against Mr. Winthrop were already so great I could scarcely increase them by leaving Mrs. Blake abruptly^ so I walked with her through the old gardens, where she had many a time, no doubt, dreamed her dreams long before my spirit got started on its long voyage through time and the eternities. I accompanied her all the way to the gate, listening sadly while she told me for the second time the sorrowful story of the widow Larkum, whose baby I had just been fondling. " Ever since her man fell on the cir- cular saw and got killed, she's been crying more or less. Her eyes look as if they'd been bound in turkey red ; and I tell her she'll be blind soon as well as her father ; but, laws ! Avhen the tears is there, they might as well come. It's their natur, I s'pose, to be a droppin'." I I ■r^^'):^i^s?m:f^:i^^ims0jmixmficim!^:^wm0m0swi''- i ^o %^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques -J f AN EVENING WALK. 9a ' dinner, Mis. Flaxman, I thought, with a worried expression was furtively regarding us ; but she ■ kept silent. With a good-humored smile W- Winthrop turned to me, saying : " Your crowd did not fall to quarrelling over the spoil, 1 hope." " I wish you could have seen how good-humored they were on leaving. I think they would haye talked above their breath only they were afraid." " You did not strike me as looking particularly formidable. Indeed, I quite pitied you ; for you seemed the most frightened, nervous one in the lot." " They were not afraid of me. Even the widow Larkum's baby cooed softly until you were out. of sight." " It must be a child of amazing intelligence." Mrs. Flaxman, looking more anxious than ever hiterjected a remark, not very relevantly, about the prospect of our early winter ; but Mr. Win- throp allowed her remark to fall unheeded. " You seem particularly interested in that tender- eyed widow and her infant. Is it long since you made their acquaintance ? " " I cannot say that I am even now acquainted with her." I answered politely. " I should judge you had a weakness for widows. Mi-s. Blake seems on very cordial terms with you." "I would take just as much interest in your widow, Mr. Winthrop, if she was poor and sorrow- fw m^'^ u MEDOLINS 8SLWTIP8 WORK. ■Mil 1 'r f ul. The wheel of fortune may make a revolution some day, and give me the opportunity." He really seemed to enjoy the retort which fell uncontrollably from my lips. " Allow me to thank you beforehand for your kind offices to that afflicted individual; though the prospect for their being required is not very good at present." " Mrs. Fleming has sent invitations for a garden- party," Mrs. Flaxman interposed desperately. " I think Mr. Winthrop had better permit you to go to New York for some additions to your toilet." " I will accompany her myself ; she might get entangled with widowers on her next trip." " Not if they are as provoking as the unmarried," I murmured below my breath ; but he seemed to catch my meaning. " They understand the art of pleasing your sex amazingly. I believe you would find them more fascinating than Mrs. Blake, or your new friend, the widow Larkum." I felt too sorrowful to reply, and my temper had quite expended itself. I waited until he arose from the table and then followed liim into the library. He looked surprised, but very politely handed me a chair. 1 bowed my thanks, but did not sit down ; I stood opposite him with only the study table between us. I was nervous, and half afraid to ask my question, but summoning all my I OBK. :e a revolution lity." tort which fell hand for your idual ; though red ia not very [IS for a garden- ssperately. " I rmit you to go your toilet." she might get it trip." he unmarried," it he seemed to jasing your sex find them more ur new friend, my temper had until he arose I him into the t very politely thanks, but did I with only the 3rvous, and half imoning all my Alf EVENING WALK. 90 courage I broke the silence by saying: — "Mr. Winthrop, will voii please tell nie if I am rich or poor ? " " That is a comparative question," he answered with provoking coolness. "Compared with Jay Gould or Vanderbilt, I should say your means were limited ; but, on the other hand, to measure your riches with your widowed friends, most per- sons would allow your circumstances to be affluent." " But have I any money left after my board and other expenses are paid ? " He smiled sarcastically. " I do not take boarders ; it has never been our custom at Oaklands." I was getting angry and retorted : — " I shall not eat any man's bread without paying for it, if he were a hundred times my guardian." " But if you had no money wherewith to pay him ; what then ? " "I have an education; with that surely I can earn my living as well as Esmerelda. My knowl- edge of French and German will help me to a situation, if nothing else." " If I say you must not leave here ; that I will not permit my ward to work for her living ? " he questioned. " If I resolve to be independent, and earn some- thing beside, to lielp the poor, can you compel me to a life of ease and usclessness ? " . i ',1 ^ 'M- :^^: \ 9g^ MEDOLINJC SELWTN'S WOBK. " Ah, I see what is troubling you— the widows are on your mind. A gracious desire to help them has caused this mercenary fit. T am glad to inform you that there is a snug sum lying at your bankers in your name. When you come of age you wiU know the exact amount." "You will pay for ray board and expenses out of it," I said, rather incoherently; "and then, if there is any left, may I .have it to lay out as I choose ? " A, r 1, 4. 1 "I do not care to assume the role of a hotel- keeper, so we will compromise matters. You can name whatever sum you choose for your board, and I will give it to you in quarterly instalments for your pensioners." I was silent for a few moments, perplexed to know what answer to give. If he were to take from my own income the sum I might mention if 1 accepted his terms, would I not still be a debtor to liis hospitality? I spoke at last, knowing that his eyes were reading my face. " Could I not first pay you all that I really cost you, and then if there was any money left, have that to expend just as I choose ? " « I have hitherto allowed you a certain sum for ■ pocket money. I limited the supply, because, as a school-girl, I believed too much would be an in- jury. Since, however, you are now a young lady grown and gifted with highly benevolent instinct -s — the widows B to help them glad to inform t yonr bankera I age you will d expenses out " atid then, if lay out as I 81e of a hotel- ters. You can your board, and instalments for 8, perplexed to e were to take Tht mention if I II be a debtor to iiowing that his ould I not first ,nd then if there ixpend just as I certain sum for ly, because, as a would be an in- w a young lady svolent instinct K, AN EVENING WALK. «f I will increase your spending money to any rea- sonable sum you may name." " Will it be my own money ? " " Certainly ; I shall not exercise the slightest supervision over the way you spend it, so long as your Mill Road friends do not get quarreling over the division of it." " You do not understand my meaning. Will it be the money my father left me ? " "I cannot promise it will be just the same. No doubt that has passed through scores of hands since then ; in fact, it may be lying in the bottom of the sea. I did not expect you would be so exact in money matters, or I might have been more care- ful." "Mr. Winthrop, why do you so persistently misconstrue my meaning?" 1 said, desperately. He looked down more gently from his superior height into my troubled face, and the mocking gleam faded from liis eyes, " Why are you so scrupulously, ridiculously insistent in maintaining such perfect independ- ence? Can j-ou not believe I get well paid for all you cost me, if we descend to the vulgarity of dol- lars and cents, in having a bright, original young creature about the house with a fiery, independent, nature, ready to fight with her rich friends for the sake of her poor ones ? " " I wish we could be friendly, Mr. Winthrop," I 7 [■': ;«f!^ ', J dS medOlinb sELWry's work. fll half sobbed, with an impulsive gesture stretching out my hands, but remembering myself , as quickly I drew them back, and without waiting for a reply fled from the room. Once in the hall I took down my hat from the rack and slipped out into the night, my pulses throbbing feverishly, and with difficulty repressing the longing to find relief in a burst of tears. The short twilight had quite faded away into starlight, but the autumn air was still warm enough to permit a stroll after nightfall. When I grew calm enough to notice whither my feet had strayed, I found myself on the Mill Road. Instinctively I felt I should not go so far from home in the darkness unattended ; but I was naturally courageous as well as unconventional, and the de- sire was strong on me to tell Mrs. Blake my good news. I got on safely until Daniel Blake's light was in sight, when, just before me, I heard rough voices talking and laughing. I turned and was about fleeing for home, when a similar crowd seemed to have sprung up, as if by magic, just be- hind me. In my terror I attempted to climb a fence, but fence-climbing was a new accomplish- ment, and in my ignorance and fright, I dragged myself to the top rail and then fell over in a nerve- less heap on the other side. The crowd were too self-absorbed to notice the crouching figure divided from them by a slight rail fence, and went shout- ing on their way until stopped by the other crowd. ;ure stretching self, as quickly iug for a reply ill I took down 1 out into the ihly, and with find relief in a had quite faded m air was still after nightfall, ice whither my the Mill Road. 3 far from home ! was naturally nal, and the de- Blake my good b1 Blake's light ), I heard rough timed and was similar crowd T magic, just be- sted to climb a lew accomplish- right, I dragged over in a nerve- crowd were too ig figure divided uid went shout- the other crowd. AN EVENING WALK. 99 I waited until they had got to a safe distance, when I arose and sped swiftly along over the damp grass until another fence intercepted my progress ; when fortunately I remembered that just beyond this fence was a low marshy field, with deep pools of water. By some means I again got over the fence, bruising my fingers in the effort. The voices were growing fainter in the distance, and now with calmer pulses, I proceeded on ray way to the Blakes'. But a new alarm awaited me ; for I recollected Daniel would be at home now, and Tiger, his constant companion, would be some- where in his vicinity. The dog was a huge crea- ture, capable of tearing me to pieces in a very short time if he was so inclined. Folding my arms tightly in the skirt of my dress, I presently heard Tiger approaching, giving an occasional savage growl. I called him to rae with as much simulated affection in the tones of my voice as I could com- mand, and walked straight for the kiichen door. I put my hand on the latch, not daring to hesitate long enough to knock, when he caught my sleeve in his teeth. Half beside myself with terror, I called to Mis. Blake, and in a second or two the door opened and Daniel was 'peering out curiously into my white face. The light from the lamp in his hand shone full on the dog holding my sleeve in his white, long teeth. Daniel's slow brain scarce took in the situation, but his mother, who sat where 100 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. she could look directly at us, caught up the tongs and gave Tiger a blow he probably remembered to his dying day. He dropped my dress and slunk silently away into the darkness. Instantly I felt sorry for him. "Won't you call him back," I cried. " He thought he was doing his duty, and he took care not to put his teeth in my arm." " It seems to me your heart, is a leetle too tender of the brute ; he might have skeered you to death," Daniel said, as he went out after his dog to se« how heavy damage tlie tongs had inflicted. " I should not have come here so late ; it was I and not the dog who was to blame," I gasped, as I sank into Mrs. Blake's rocking-chair. "I've wanted Daniel to put the critter away; he's been offered fifty dollars for him; but he's kind of lonesome, and refuses the offer." Mrs. Blake was looking at me closely. I knew she was curious to know what brought me there at that unusual hour, so I hastened to explain, and asking her would she go with me to the Widow Larkum's while I told her of the help I expected to afford, and also of my mishaps on the way "Not to-night, dearie. These roads ain't none too safe after night for women folks. It's a mercy you tumbled over the fence. Myl what would Mr. Winthrop say if he knowed? " she questioned solemnly. o ".iiJL: ' RK. up the tongs emembered to ess and slunk nstantly I felt him back," I his duty, and ny arm." etle too tender you to death, dog to see how d. late ; it was I ' I gasped, as I r. critter away; him; but he's ler." osely. I knew ght me there at to explain, and to the Widow elp I expected ps on the way oads ain't none J. It's a mercy yl what would ' she questioned ATf EVENING WALK. 101 " But he will never know, if I can get back safely." " Dan'el and me '11 go with you, and take Tiger and the lantern. They're all afraid of the dog, if I haven't lamed him." She went to the door and called Daniel. He came in presently, with Tiger limping after him. " You give him an unmerciful blow ; a leetle more and he'd never barked again." " Bring him in and I'll give him a bone and rub the sore place with liniment." " Let me feed him," I begged. " I want to make friends with him." " You'd best not put your hands on him. He don't make free with strangers." I took the bone ; to my regret it was picked nearly bare, and I inly resolved Tiger should have a good solid dinner the next day, if he and I anr- vived the mishaps of the night. " Poor fellow ! I am very, very sorry I have caused you' so much pain," I said, giving him the bone and patting his huge head fearlessly. " Look out ! " Daniel said, warningly. "You needn't be afeard," his mother said. " Tiger knows quality." Whether he was as knowing in this respect as she asserted, he gnawed his bone and let me stroke his shaggy coat, wlule Mrs. Blake bathed his bruised bftckf 102 MEDOLINE SEUVYN'ti WORK. 1 « Theio, he'll be all right now in no time ; and Dan'cl, you get the lantern and we'll go buck to Oaklands with Miss Selwyn." Daniel got up wearily, and did as his mother bade. After his hard day's work in the mill he would williitgly, no doubt, have been excused escorting damsels in distress to their homes. Mrs. Blake soon came out of her room with her bonnet and shawl on— the former one without si veil, which she excused on the ground that dew took the stiffening out of crape—" Leastways," she added, "the kind I wear." Tiger followed us, and more in mercy to him than the tired Daniel, I insisted on going home alone once we had got be- yond the precincts of the Mill Road. I met with no further adventure, and reached my own room in safety, fondly hoping no one in the house was aware of my evening s ramble, and one that I de- termined should never be repeated. My cheeks burned even after my light wjvs extinguished, and my head throbbed on the pillow at Mr. Winthrop's biting sarcasm if he knew the risk I had just run from bipeds and quadrupeds, with Daniel Blake, his mother and dog as body-guard past the danger of Mill Road ruflaanism. 'mM \o tiino ; atul , go biick to 3 his mother the mill ho »een excused liomes. oom with her lie without 51 11(1 that dew jastways," she followed us, ired Daniel, I e had got be- I met with ny • own room he house was )ne that I de- . My cheeks inguished, and Ir. Winthrop's had just run Daniel Blake, lat the danger CHAPTER X. A HELPING HAND. The loUowing morning I went down to break* fast with some trepidation, and feeling very much like a culprit. Mrs. Flaxman came into the room first, and in her mild, incurious fashion said : " We were hunting for you last evening. Mr. Winthrop wished to see you about something." I did not reply, neither did she inquire where I had bestowed myself out of reach of their voices. I felt certain Mr. Winthrop's curiosity would be more insistent, and was quite right in my conject- ures. He came in as usual, just on the minute, " and seating himself, went through with the formal- ity of grace ; but before our plates were served, he turned to me and rather sternly said : " Are you in the habit of going out fojr solitary night rambles ? " * i i 'If II 104 MEDOLINE SELWYN'fi WORK. " I never did but once," I faltered, too proudly honest to give an evasive answer. " That once, I presume, occurred last night ? " " Yes." ♦' Strictly speaking, it wanted just five minutes to nine when you slipped stealthily into the side entrance." •'l^\ I sat, culprit-like, in silence, while his ej'es were watching me closely. " Don't you think two hours a long time to be loitering about the garden in the dark ? " « You must not be too hard on Medoline," Mrs. Flaxman interposed. " It is an instinct with young folk to stray under the starlight and dream their dreams. No doubt we both have been guilty of doing it in our time." I flashed Mrs. Flaxman a look of gratitude, and wondered at the nai've way she counted Mr. Winthrop with herself, as if he too had arrived at staid middle-agehood. " Dreaming under stars and wandering around in attendance on widows are two very different occupations," he said, quietly, and without a break in his voice asked !Mrs. Flaxman what he should help her to. I swallowed my breakfast — what little I could eat — ^with the feeling that possibly each succeeding mouthful might choke me; but full hearts do not usually prove fatal, even at meal time. I arose from the table as soon as Mr. Winthrop WORK. sred, too proudly id last night ? " just five minutes ily into the side lile his ej'es were long time to be dark?" Medoline," Mrs. stinct with young and dream their e been guilty of I Mrs. Flaxman a it the naive way herself, as if he fehood. randering around ro very different 1 without a break what he should breakfast — what ^ng that possibly t choke me; but atal, even at meal as Mr. Winthrop A HELPING HAND. 105 laid down his napkin, and was hastening from the room when 1 heard him move back his chair; and, swift as were my movements, he was in the hall before I had reached the topmost step of the staircase. " Just one more word, please," I heard him say. I turned around, resolved to take the remainder of my lecture from a position where I could look down on him. He held out a parcel, saying : " Will you come and get this, or shall I carry it to you ? " I descended without replying, and held out my hand for the roll. He took hold of my hand in- stead. The firm, strong grasp comforted me, though I expected a sevei-er lecture than I had ever re- ceived before in all my life. I looked up at him through tear-filled eyes wlien he said, in a strangely gentle voice for the circumstances : " I saw you coming along the Mill Road last night with the Blakes and their lantern. Why were you there so late ? " "I wanted so much to tell the widow Larkum I was in a position now to help her." He was silent for awhile ; then he said : " I am glad you did not try to mislead me at the breakfast-table. I could not easily have forgiven such an act. Next to purity, I admire perfect truth in your sex." " Mr. Winthrop, you will believe me that I never went out of our own grounds after night before m -ft I m 'Ml: f^ A 106 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. \ . rfiii '} f:^i alone, and I never will, if I live for a hundred years." " Pray do not make rash promises. I only claim obedience to my wishes until you are of age. I will accept your word until that date, and shall not go in search of you along the Mill Road, or any other disreputable portion of the town again. Your mother's daughter can be trusted." I tried to withdraw my hand, in order to escape with my tear-stained face to my own room, quite forgetting the parcel I had come down the stairway for. " We start for New York this afternoon. Mrs. Flaxman accompanies us. She will be congenial society for you, having been a widow for nearly a score of years." " I do not care particularly for widows. It is the poor and desolate I pity." " Well, here is the first instalment of widows' money. I give it to you quarterly, purely from benevolent motives." " Why so ? " I asked, curiously. " If you received it all at once Mill Road would be resplendent with crape and cheap jewelry." " I suppose I must thank you," I said, hotly ; ♦♦but the manner of the giving takes away all the grace of the gift." " You express yourself a trifle obscurely, but I think I comprehend your meaning," he said, with- for a hundred js. I only claim I are of age. I ite, and shall not ill Road, or any he town again, isted." I order to escape own room, quite 3wn the stairway ifternoon. Mrs. all be congenial dow for nearly a r widows. It is ment of widows' erly, purely from Mill Road would jap jewelry." J," I said, hotly ; ikes away all the obscurely, but I J," he said, with- A HELPING HAND. 107 out change of voice. If I could have seen his eyes flash, or his imperturbable calm disturbed, my own anger would have been less keen. " May I go now?" I presently asked, quite sub- dued ; for he had fallen into a brown study, and was still holding my hand. " Yes, I had forgotten," he said, turning away, and a moment after entered the library and shut the door. I went in search of Mrs. Flaxraan, whom I found still in the breakfast-room, and in a rather nervous condition, busy about the china, which she rarely permitted the servant to wash. " Shall we stay long in New York ? " I asked, very cheerfully, the fifty dollars I held in ray hand, and the easy way I had got off with Mr. Winthrop, making me quite elated. " One can never tell. Mr. Winthrop is very un- certain ; we may return in a day or two, or we may stay a fortnight." " You are not anxious to go ? " I questioned, see- ing her troubled face. " Not just now, in the height of the pickling and preserving season. Reynolds has excellent judg- ment, but I prefer looking after such things myself." She looked wistfully at me while she dried her china. " May I help you, Mrs. Flaxman ? It never occurred to me before that I might share your bur- dens. I should learn to have cares, as well as others." I, !'> 'i' m 108 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. "I always like to have you with me, dear. Sometimes I try to make myself believe God has given you to me, instead of my own little Medo- line." " Had you a daughter once ? " « Yes; and, like yourself, named after your own dear mother." " Oh, Mrs. Flaxman, and you never told me. Was she grown up like me?" « She was only six years old when she died, just a month after her father ; but the greater grief benumbed me so I scarce realized my second loss until months afterward." " Is it so terrible, then, to lose one's husband ? « It depends greatly on the husband." " The widow Larkum cries constantly after hers, but he was bread-winner, too. A hungry grief must be a double one." " Did Mr. Winthrop say anything further to you about being out last night? " "A little," I replied, with scarlet cheeks ; "but he will never do so again. I shall not give him cause to reprove me." " That is the most lady-like course. You are no longer a little girl, or a school-girl either." I wiped my plates in silence, but my mortifica- tion was none the less intense. I realized then, more keenly than ever, that I must preserve the proprieties, and confine myself to the restrictions VORK. with me, dear, believe God has iwn little Medo- d after your own never told me. ien she died, just the greater grief L my second loss one's husband ? " iband." stantly after hers, liungry grief must ing further to you •let cheeks ; " but lall not give him irse. You are no rl either." but my mortifica- I realized then, aust preserve the to the restrictions A HELPING HAND. 109 of polite society. The breezy, unconventional freedom Mrs. Flaxman had for those few months permitted me had been so keenly enjoyed. I fretted uneasily at the forms, and ceremonies of artificial life, while the aboriginal instincts, which every free heart hides away somewhere in its depths, had been permitted too full development. The china cleansed, and put away, I stood sur- veying the shining pieces that comprised our break- fast equipage, and like the tired clock in the fable, thought wearily of the many hundred times Mrs. Flaxman had washed those dishes ; of the many thousand times they, or others, would go through the same operation, until Mrs. Winthrop's sands of time had all run out, and Oaklands goijg to decay, or passed into other hands. ^" " Isn't it tiresome work washing dishes — the same yesterday, to-day and fifty years hence ? I wish I had been created a man ; they don't have such sameness in their work." "Are you sure, dear? Fancy a bookkeeper's lot, or a clerk's reckoning up columns of figures so like there is not a particle of variety ; not a new or thrilling idea in all their round of work from January to December, unless we except a column that won't come right. That may have a thrill in it now and then, but certainly not a joyous one. After we return from New York, if you pay at- tention to a clerk's work in the stores we visit, 110 MEBOLltfE SELWVN'a WOHK. Mi 1 j you will acknowledge a lady's household tasks de- lightful in comparison. The fanner's life has the most variety, ani\ comes nearest to elementary things and nature's great throbbing vitals ; but as a rule they are a dissatisfied lot, and unreasonably so, I think." " Come to look at things generally, it's a very unsatisfactory sort of world, anyway. I think it's alFaira might just as well get wound up as not. There have been plenty of one variety of beings created, I should think, to fill up lots of room in the starry spaces, and there are so many to suffer forever." " It is hardly reverent, dear, for us to criticise God's plans. It is His world, and we are His creatures ; and we may all be happy in Him here, and there be happy with Him forever. Besides, life does not seem monotonous when we are doing His will." " But I know 80 few who are doing His will save you, and that poor blind Mr. Bowen. I read my Bible every day, and sometimes I get thinking over its words, and I reckon there will only be one here and there fit to enter Heaven. All our friends nearly would be teiTibly out of place to be sud- denly transplanted to the Heavenly gardens. What could they talk about to the shining ones? The fashions, and social gossips, and fancy work and amusements would all be tabooed subjects there, I expect." WORK. A HELPING lIANt>, 111 usehokl tasks de- nei's life has the 5t to elementary ng vitals ; but as uicl unreasonably jrally, it's a very vay. I think it's ound up as not. variety of beings p lots of room in so many to suffer or us to criticise and we are His ppy in Him here, forever. Besides, rhen we are doing re doing His will r. Bowen. I read nes I get thinking re will only be one I. All our friends f place to be sud- \]y gardens. What ining ones? The I fancy work and d subjects there, I " You do not know many people yet. I thank God there are thousands longing to serve Him. I think, dear, you must have a touch of dyspepsia this morning; your thoughts are so morbid." " Oh no, indeed ; I am quite well. But shall we see any of those people you describe in New York?" " If we stay long enough, doubtless we shall. I have a few rare friends there whose friendship often gives me the feeling of possessing unlimited riches." " I wish I had such friends," I exclaimed, with sadden longing. " You and the Mill Road folk are the only ones I have on this side the ocean, and the most I care much for on the other already think in another language from mine." " Yours will not be a friendless life, I feel certain. I see elements in your impulsive nature that must attract those who love the true and unselfish." " Oh, Mrs. Flaxman, what a delicious compli- ment to give pie, just when I was most discouraged about myself ! Mr. Winthrop finds me such a nuisance, and all your pretty and elegant lady friends I know care so little for me that I can't but believe that I am a poor specimen, although you speak so kindly." " You will be wise to learn the art of not think- ing much about your merits. I find these the hap- piest lives who live most outside of self ; and they are the most helpful to others." I ] ; Ml it 112 MEDOLINE SELWTira WORK. n w. m ' Vi.% \i'' " But we have mainly to do with ourselves. How can we help wondering if our particular barque on the voyage of life is to be a success or not?" •' It lies with ourselves whether it is or no." " But persons like Mrs. Larkum and the Blakes, how can they have a successful voyage, when they are so poor and lowly ? " " You must get the thought out of your mind that being poor and humble makes any difference in God's sight. When Christ visited our planet his position was as lowly as the Blakes ; his purse as empty as the widow Larkum's. We are such slow creatures to learn that character itself is the only greatness in God's sight. Our ancestry and rent roll are the small dust of the balance with Him." " But Mr. Winthrop thinks most of those things — the ancestry and wealth." " We must not sit in judgment on any one's thoughts, and we must not tivke any man's gauge of character in the abstract as the correct one; only take the word of God." I went out into the sunshine to think over Mrs. Flaxman's little lecture ; a good deal comforted with the reflection that Mrs. Blake might have more weight in the balances of Heaven than I had thought. The garden was looking very shabby- its splendid midsummer glory had only a few 'ORK. with ourselves. our particular be a success or it is or no." I and the Blakes, yage, when they it of your mind s any difference sited our planet lakes; his purse . We are such cter itself is the ur ancestry and the balance with st of those things mt on any one's any man's gauge the correct one; ) think over Mrs. al comforted with night have more ven than I had )g very shabby- had only a few A UELPINO HAND. 113 flowers left to show wliat had been there, and tlieso only the tliick-petaled, substantial blosson-s ns free from perfume as the products of the vegeuiblo gar- den. I grew melancholy. A premonition of my own sure coming autumn season, towards the end of life, was forecasting its cold shadow over the intervening years which made the November sun- shine grow dim ; and I gladly re-entered the house. I went very meekly to the library-door and tapped. Quite a long pause, and then I heard my guardian's study door which opened into the library, shut ; and a second after he stood before me. I thought he gave me a surprised glance, since it was only the second time I had come into his presence there un- summoned. " May I take some of the money you gave me this morning to Mrs. Larkum, before I leave for New York ? " " If you have time. Usually it takes ladies some hours to prepare for a journey such as you have before you to-day." r . '' I am sorry to say I am not a regulation lady. I can get ready in half an hour." " That is a quality in your sex that will cover a multitude of sins." " I am glad you have at last found something good in me," I said, sorrowfully. " Yoii must not personally apply every generalizar tjon your frie«ds piay make in their conversation," m iiiji 114 MEDOLINE SELWyJTS WORK. *' Then you give me peimissioii to go ? " " It strikes me you are rushing to the other ex- treme. I have never interfered with your rambles, except at unseemly houi-s. Mill Road at mid-day id quite safe for the most unconventional young lady in Cavendish." I bowed my thanks, and turning away heard the Mbrary door shut. I could fancy the expression on my guardian's face as he returned to his books. But, as I put on my wraps, my heart grew lighter although Mr. Winthrop's last observation made me wince. I took a crisp ten dollar bill. Surely, I reflected, that could not be a dangerous sum to en- trust the widow with, considering that she had a helpless father, and half-clad children to look after. I took the kitchen on my way and begged a gener- out slice of meat from the cook to carry to Tiger. " Most like they'll have their own dinner off it first; they'll think it a sin to give such meat to a dog," I heard her mutter as I left the kitchen. On my way I met Emily Fleming and Belle Wallace. They laughingly inquired where I was going with my bundles ; but I assured them it was an errand of mercy, and could not therefore be explained. Miss Emily's plump features and bright black eyes took a slightly contemptuous expression as she assured us I was rapidly developing into a Sister of Charity. " Better be that than an idler altogether like the /ORK. Logo?" to the other ex- h your rambles, ioad at mid-day ventional young away heard the r the expression icd to his books, irt grew lighter rvation made me bill. Surely, I ;erou8 sura to en- that she had a ren to look after. begged a gener- • carry to Tiger, iwn dinner off it e such meat to a the kitchen. On 1 Belle Wallace. I was going with it was an errand )re be explained, bright black eyea xpression as she ping into a Sister iltogether like the .1 HELPING HAND. 116 restof us," the nioi'o gentle iiiitured Belle responded. "If you arc getting into a controveray I will continue my journey," I said, nodding them a pleasant good morning and going cheerfully on my way, thinking of Tiger's prospective gratification, coupled Willi tliat of the widow Larkums. Going first to the Blakes, I found Tiger stretched out on the doorstep. He wagged liis tail appre- ciatively, but did not growl as I stroked his shaggy coat. Examining him by daylight, I saw that he was a fine specimen of his species. Daniel explained to me afterward that he was a cross between a St. Bernard and Newfoundland— a royal ancestry, truly, for any canine, and unlike human off-shoots from the best genealogical trees, ^yite sure of in- " heriting the finest qualities of his ancestors. I went into the house, the dog limping after me. Mrs. Blake heard my voice and came in in some alarm. She looked surprised to see me sitting by the table with Tiger's massive head in mj lap, while I unrolled tlio meat. She also stood watch- ing, and when the juicy steak was revealed, her own eyes brightened as well as Tiger's. " I haven't seen such a piece of meat in many a day. It minds me so of Oaklands." "I got it from cook for Tiger," I explained. " It is clean— perhaps you would like a few slices off it." m 110 MEDOLINE SELWYN'a WOUK. "I would, indeed. Ite ft shame to give a brute such victuuls." "Poor Tiger, he deserves something rikkI, alter the way he was punished on my account." Sho brought a knife and plate saying: " We can share MTi' each other; I don't want to rob even a d..- of his rigiits " I turned the meat over and found a bone which I cutoff and gave him, and then, giving the i-eraainder to her to put out of Tiger's way, 1 stipulated that he was to have all the scraps that were left. Then I informed her of my gift fronj Mr. Winthrop, or rather loan, and of the sum 1 purposed giving Mrs. Larkum. "Did Mr. Winthrop give you all that money for poor folks?" she asked incredulously. "Yes." "Well, I've heard he never give anything ex- cept through the town council. I've heard he was uncommon free in that way. But, laws I reck- oned the first time I seen you that you d be able afore long to wind him around your finger. lllen as ever. Her we went in. Mrs. ould be better than he quality sit down by from its grand- ras cooing content- jrs and face nicely lad brought it. I ) other little ones — iidfather, and divid- iced that the gift aced securely in his it out a little later, I glanced at the c certainly was ; in everything I saw in iirned, and thread- i gentleman, and I trithin himself as if ease. I resolved to irst visit, but later heart. I contented i, and playing with lows to indulge in a My own tears do not me feel cold hearted A HELPING HAND. 119 to sit dry-eyed while other eyes are wet. As I sat quietly absorbing the spirit of the place, my eyes rested on a shelf containing the few cheap dishes that served their daily food. Instantly the deso- late fancies I had a few hours before indulged came forcibly to mind. I thought what would it be to cleanse the remains of meagre repasts from these coarse cups, and plates, through days and years, with no glad hopes or joyous fancies to lighten the toil ! I was growing desolate hearted myself, and concluded my widowed friend had sighed and wept long enough ; so returning the little charge to its grand- father, I went to Mrs. Larkum's side, and slipped the note into her hand, at the same time saying good-bye, and motioned to Mra. Blake to come home. She arose very reluctantly, being unwilling to miss her friend's surprise and satisfaction. I too was constrained to look at her as she unfolded the note. A flush swept over her face as she saw the number, and handing it back to me, she said :— • " You have made a mistake, and given me the wrong bill." " Oh no, indeed. I got it on purpose for you." " But it is ten dollars. Surely you did not mean that." " Mrs. Blake said you would know how to lay out fifty very wisely," I said, with a smile. Her tears, always so convenient, began to flow afresh. Turning to her father she said with a sob, ft ;■ * 120 MEDOLINU SELWrifS WORIt. t *' Father, your prayers are getting answered. The Lord, I believe, will provide." I saw him gather the baby close to his heart, and then with a gesture of self command he seemed with difficulty to restrain his own emotion. " The Lord reward the giver," he murmured in a low voice ; but some way it gave me the feeling that I had suddenly received some precious gift. " When that is gone I shall have some more for you," I promised. " Oh, before all this is used up, I must try to get earning myself. But this, with all those vegetables you gave me yesterday, will give rae such a start. I will buy a whole barrel of flour, it spends so much bettet— and get some coals laid in for winter. They are the heaviest ex- pense." " Yes," I said, impulsively, " and flannek for the children. It will be so much better than crape." " Crape ! " she 'ejaculated. " I don't need crape for my husband. I have too much mourning in my heart to put any on outside." 1 meant some day, when I felt pretty courageous, to repeat her words to Mr. Winthrop. Once outside, I found the glorious expansion of sky and horizon very grateful after the narrow limits of the little cottage. At luncheon Mr. Winthrop asked if I hud paid my visit yet to Mill Road. I acknowledged, with a slight crimsoning WORK. r answered. The ose to his heart, slf command he his own emotion. le murmured in a e me the feeling me precious gift, ^e some more for ip, I must try to , wiLh all those ay, will give rae e barrel of flour, get some coala the heaviest ex- id flannels for the tter than crape." don't need crape L mourning in my retty courageous, iiVinthrop. Once xpansion of sky ter the narrow .t luncheon Mr. ' visit yet to Mill slight crimsoning A UELPING BAND. 121 ' df cheekrthat*I'had conveyed to Mrs. Larkum a small sum of money. " No doubt she will hiave a crape weeper as long as the widow Blake's." " I did not think you noticed the trivialities of women's attire so minutely." " I do not as a rule ; but in the case of your intimate friends, it is natural I should endeavor to discover their especial charms." " Mrs. Larkum said she was going to lay out the money I gave her chiefly in flour and coals. I sug- gested flannel would be much better also to buy than crape. She said she had no need ^o put on mourning : she already wore it in her heart." " She is a very sensible woman," my guardian replied. Then I described, as minutely as I could and with all the pathos I could command, the grim surroundings of this poor family — the grand- father, a^ith his serene, sightless face and strangely deep trust In Providence; the clean, but faded, worn garments they all had on — not one of thenii apparently, possessed of a decent suit of clothes ; and then their horror of help from the town. Mrs. Flaxman wiped her eyes sympathetically when I repeated the grateful words my gift had evoked, and said with trembling voice : " It just seems as if the Lord sent you there, Medoline." " Do you think the Ruler of this vast universe 122 MEDOLINE BELWTirS WORK. ■ ,*• I jj^fcij t^-- 'I Ji fi I lias leisure or inclination to turn his gaze on such trivialities? No doubt suns and systems are still being sent out completed on their limitless circles. To conceive their Creator turning from such high efforts to send Medoline with a ten dollar bill to the Larkums, to my mind borders on profanity," Mr. Winthrop said, with evident disgust. "The infinitely great and infinitely small alike receive His care. Perhaps it required stronger power from God to make you give me the money and then to make me willing to carry it to them, than it does to create a whole cluster of suns and planets. I think our wills limit God's power more than anything he ever created, except Satan and his angels." *' You are quite a full-fledged theologian, little one. I am surprised you do not engage more heartily in home mission work." "I must first learn to show more patience at home." He did not make any reply; but as -wa were speeding on our way that afternoon in the cars, he came to my side and handed me a small roll of bills. " Would you like to buy that widower friend of yours a warm suit of clothes for the winter ? Mrs. Flaxman will show you a suitable furnishing establishment. Philanthropists must do all sorts of things, as you will find." ** You are very kind after all, Mr. Winthrop. I roiiK. lis g^e on such lystems are still limitless circles, from such high en dollar bill to i on profanity," lissfust. itely small alike quired stronger e me the money jrit to them, than er of suns and rod's power more ixcept Satan and theologian, little ot engage more aore patience at but as TW were )n in the cars, he small roll of bills, idower friend of lie winter? Mrs. table furnishing oust do all sorts Ir. Winthrop. I A HELPING HAND. ISB wish I could tell you how grateful I am. Please forgive all my rude speeches— I hope I will never get provoked with you again." "I most cerbiinly hope you will. A little spice adds greatly to the flavor of one's daily food." He walked away ; and first counting my gift, I found, to my surprise, thiit it amounted to fifty dollars. I opened my little velvet satchel — my tra- veling companion for many a weary mile — and laid it safely in one of the pockets. I had plenty of leisure that afternoon for fancy to paint all sorts of pict- ures. Mr. Winthrop was at the farther end of the car, with a group of friends he had met ; and Mrs. Flaxman, a nervous traveler at the best, was trying to forget the discomforts of travel as she sat with her easy-chair wheeled into a sheltered corner, sleeping as much as possible. I watched the rapidly disappearing views from my windows, some of them causing pleasant thoughts, and sometimes re-touching memories so remote they seemed like experiences of another existence, which my soul had known before it came under its present limit- ations. There were cottages that we flew past, reminding me of the Larkum abode ; these I kept wearily peoi)ling with white, sightless faces, and hungry, sad-faced women and children. When at last my own thoughts were beginning to consume me, Mr. Winthrop came and sat near me. 124 MEDOLtNE SSLWTira WOUE. k\ ' I I. "Is a journey in the cars equal to an hour spent with your widows ? " he asked. "I have enjoyed the drive. One sees so much that is new, and is food for thought, only the mind gets wearied with such swift variety." He was silent for some time, then, with a com- plete change of topic he said, "I have been glad to hear you practicing so industriously on the piano. Some day you may have a more appreciative audience than Mrs. Flax- man and myself." " It has helped to occupy my time. I do not know, that much else has been accomplished." " That is not a very wise reason for so occupy- ing your time." " One must get through it some way. In pleas- ant weather, getting acquainted with nature, in field and garden and by the seanshore, was my favorite pastime." " It is an indolent way to seek the acquaintance of so profound a mistress:— merely sunning one's self under the trees, or listening to the monotonous voice of the sea, sitting on the rocks." "In what better way could I discover her secrets ? " " Following in the steps of those who have made her in her varying forms a life long study, and who have embalmed their discoveries in books." w 'Cji' nAtJJ** 1-iM;-"- •'■fi - WOliE. I to an hour spent One sees so much bought, only the 'ift variety." len, with a com- mon practicing so me day you may ) than Mrs. Flax- time. I do not complished." 3u forsooccupy- B way. Tnpleas- with nature, in idrshore, was my the acquaintance ly sunning one's ' the monotonous jks." I discover her 3 who have made life long study, r discoveries in A HELPING HAND. 125 " But I am young yet, and I need liist to dis- cover if I have tastes for sucli pursuits." "A youthful Methusaleh might make that ob- jection ; but your years are too few to pause while making a selection." " At first when I c. ne to Oaklands, I was perplexed to know how the long days and years were to be occupied." "Have you since then found for yourself a career ? " " I am finding an abundance of work, if I only am willing to do it." "You must not get so absorbed in deeds of charity that you forget the duties belonging to yourself and position. Oaklands may not always be your home, with its pastoral enjoyments. You should «ndeavor to fit youi-self for wider and higher spheres of action." "In the meantime, however, my life must be got through some way. If I can help others to be happier, surely my time cannot be quite wasted; and I may the easier render my final account." "Ah, that's a perplexing question— our final settlement for the deeds of this life." I looked my surprise at his tone of voice. " You have not learned yet, Medoline, to doubt. Very well, never begin. It's horrible having no sure anchor to hold by when death forces one into unknown oceans, or shipwrecks with annihilation." 126 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. % " Death never can do that, if we trust in Christ, who turned our last enemy into a blessed angel." " Your faith is very beautiful, and is, no doubt, sufBcient for your utmost intellectual needs ; and by all means hold to it as you would to your life." ** I think it is the same that St. Paul, and Martin Luther, and John Milton, and a thousand, yes a million other noblest intellects, held firmly. Surely it will serve for me." "You are satisfied, then, to think with the crowd?" " Yes, until something more reasonable is given me than God's word and revealed religion. But, Mr. Winthrop, I am only a heard believer. I am not a Christian, really." "If I believed the Bible as you do," I would not risk my soul one half hour without complying with every command of the Scriptures. You who so firmly believe, and yet live without the change of heart imperatively demanded by the Bible, are the most foolhardy beings probably in the entiie universe." " Are we any more foolish than those who dare to doubt with the same evidence that we possess ? " "Possibly not ; but I think you are." I was silent ; for there came to me a sudden consciousness that Mr. Winthrop was right. I had no doubts about the great truths of our re- i«ii*% !'■»■£■* -.nv-w =J»i-»* «>*"'' V - >''~iif ' '■>''^:^S!C^^-^-*'"'^ ^^ , WORE. w trust in Christ, a blessed angel." and is, no doubt, ictual needs ; and )uld to your life." Paul, and Martin I thousand, yes a 3ld firmly. Surely think with the sasonable is given id religion. But, d believer. I am 1 do, I would not it complying with es. You who so out the change of the Bible, are the ^ in the entire .n those who dare ;hat we possess ? " I are." to me a sudden op was right. I truths of our re* A IIELl'IAG HAND. 127 ligion ; and what excuse then could I offer for not accepting them to the very utmost of my human need? CHAPTER XL CITY LIFE. In the late evening the lights from the restless, crowded city began to twinkle in the distance, and shortly another living freight was btuno safely within its shelter. Mr. Wintlirop had met a friend who came into the car, a station or two back, and had grown so absorbed in conversation that he paid no heed to the people hurrying out into the night. Mrs. Flaxman was aroused by the commotion and glanced around uneasily, but did not like to inter- rupt Mr. Winthrop's eager conversation. Besides, she comforted hei-self with the belief that our train would probably lay in New York for the night. At last Mr. Winthrop came to escort us out. " I believe we have no time to spare. I did not notice that we had reached our terminus." " It is no use denying the fact; men are greater talkers than women," I remarked seriously. "Why so? "he asked, pausing with satchel suspended, awaiting my answer. )ni the restless, le distance, and IS bt)rno safely ad met a friend two back, and ion that he paid ; into the night, commotion and ot like to inter- ition. Besides, if that our train : for the night, ort us out. " I I did not notice men are greater eriously. ' with satchel H'l CITY LIFE. 120 "Why, no two women on the continent would get so absorbed in each other as to foig- 1 they hud reached their journey's end, and had need to be in a hurry." " Probably not ; their topics would be too trivial to claim so much attention." I found the reply unanswerable, and hastened after Mrs. Flaxman, who was already out of sight. Wlicn we reached the door the cars were in motion.—" What shall we do? " I cried, anxiously. " I could never get off while the cars were mov- ing." I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Flaxman's scared face as we went past. " Leave me and go to Mrs. Flaxman. A man can jump easily, I am sure," I pleaded, finding that we were moving out of the station, and actually on the road again. " And what will you do ? " he asked very calmly. " I have plenty of money in my pocket, and can pay my way back by the next train," I said, hur- riedly. " You would travel alone at midnight to save Mrs. Flaxman a trifling anxiety?" " I won't be frightened, and she will be so wor- ried there, all alone among strangers," I pleaded. " Mrs. Flaxman knows our hotel. She will be safe vrhen she reaches there, which will be in a few minutes now. So you need not be troubled about her. I shall not leave you," he said, decidedly. 9 r 1 130 MRDOLINE HKLWYJ^'S WOJth'. We went back into the cur, which was nearly empty ; but, some way, 1 felt na content and safe as if we had joined Mrs. Flaxinan at the hotel. Mr. Winthrop sat near, but he did not seem in a mood just then for conversation. I think he felt cha- grined at his carelessness, but I was wicked enough to enjoy it. I loaned my head back against ' my easy-chair and furtively watched my guardian, as he sat writing in a large blank book w hich he took from his pocket after awhile. I had never before had such opportunity to study, in repose, the strong, intellectual face. As I watclied the varying moods of his mind, while ho thought and wrote, it re- minded me of cloud-swept meadows on a summer's day — tlie sunshine succeeding the shadow. I fan- cied that the mask which conceals the workings of the spirit life became partly transparent and luminous, and I seemed to see poetic fancy and noble thoughts weaving their wondrous webs back somewhere in the fastnesses of ' soul. And then I glanced around at the other occupants of the oar; and, fancy being alert, all their faces reminded me of so many masks, with the real individual shel- tered behind in its own secure fastness, and all the while industriously weaving the web of life; al- ways vigilant, ever throwing the shuttle ; whether wisely or foolishly, only the resultant action could determine. But the faces grew indistinct; the steady movement back and forth of the writer's 11 VOliK. lich was nearly itent nnd siife ns the hotel. Mr. soein ill a mood Ilk ho felt cha- s wicked enough lick against' my my guardian, ns k w liich he took ad never before pose, the strong, e varying moods id wrote, it re- s on a summer's shadow. I fan- Is the workings transparent and oetic fancy and lIi'ous webs back soul. And then pants of the car; !es reminded me individual shel- nesa, and all the web of life; al- huttle ; whether tint action could indistinct; the of the writer's CITY LIFE. lyi 'r hand no longer interested me, for I was asleep. I do not know how long I had slept. My hat had slipped to the floor; my heavy coils of hair, usually difficult to keep in proper control, had un- loosened by the constant motion of the car and fallen in heavy rings about my shoulders. I opened my eyes suddenly to find that my guardian had put away his writing, and was standing near, regarding me, I fancied, with a look of displeasure. " I did not mean to fall asleep," I faltered, while I quickly coiled up my hair, and put on my hat. " It is my fault you slept in this public place. I had forgotten about you." I looked at him with an admiration almost amounting to awe, thinking how engrossed he must have become in liis*owii thoughts to have forgotten me so perfectly ; and then I speculated on the irony of fate in placing one so unconventional as I under the care of a man so exceedingly fastidious. I was standing beside him. In \\\y excitement, ^when awakening, I had started to my feet, but with difficulty maintained my position ; for my head was dizzy with the sudden start from sound sleep, to- gether with the unaccustomed hour for traveling. Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was past mid- night. I think Mr. Winthrop noticed my weari- ness, for he Staid, rather grimly : *• It is too bad, having you out late two nights in 1 ,!i l ' succession. 132 MEDOLINE SELWYIf'S WORK. I remembered hia gift for Mr. Bowen, and was silent. " At the next station we will be able to change cars for New York. The conductor tells me we sliall only be compelled to wait a short time." "I will rest then until we get theie," I said, no doubt very wearily, for I felt not only dizzy, but slightly faint, and sank into my chair. He looked down at me, and then said, in more gentle fashion than he had ever before addressed me : " I am very sorry, Medoline, to have caused you so much needless fatigue." I quite forgot my weariness then. It was so com- forting to know he could acknowledge regret for anything, and that his heart was not made of flint, as, unconfessed to myself, I had partly imagined. I looked up brightly. " I do not know if I am not rather glad than sorry that we have shown our- selves such forgetful travelers. It will be some- thing unusual to remember." " That is a very kindly way to look on my for- getfulness — rather, I should say, stupidity." He sat down l\ic:\ and the short remaining distance we passed in silence. We were both very prompt in responding to the summons given by the conductor when our station was reached. The waiting-room was Avell lighted and warmed, and a welcome odor of food pervaded the air. I resolved to make a little foray on my . . »M ' - " t)W"* W« M"? WORK. . Bowen, and was be able to change ictor tells me we slioit time." ; theie," I said, no ot only dizzy, but chair. He looked Dre gentle fashion d me: ) have caused you n. It was so com- wledge regret for not made of flint, lartly imagined, lot know if I am e have shown our- It will be some- look on my for- , stupidity." He smaining distance responding to the when our station was Avell lighted of food pervaded itlle foray on my CtTT LIFE. iss \'< own account, to secure, if possible, a bit of luncheon ; but, after seeing me comfortably seated by a hot stove, Mr. Winthrop left, only to return in a few moments with the welcome announcement that refreshments were awaiting us. I expressed my surprise that food should be in readiness at that unseasonable hour. " Oh, I telegraphed an hour ago to have it pre- pared," he replied. " Then I was sleeping a good while," I said, rue- fully. " An hour or two. I only wakened you in time to collect yourself for changing cars." " And you have not slept at all ? " " Scarcely. I do not permit myself that luxury in public." I was silenced, but not so far crushed as to lose my appetite. A cup of tea, such as Mrs. Flaxman never brewed for me, effectually banished sleep for the rest of the night. The journey back was tire- some, the car crowded, and the long night seemed interminable. I was wedged in beside a stout old gentleman, whose breath was disagreeably sugges- tive of stale brandy, while a wheezy cough dis- turbed him as well as myself. He looked well to do, and was inclined to be friendly; but his eyes had a peculiar expression that repelled me. Mr. Winthrop had got a seat some distance behind me. By twisting my neck uncomfortably, ■i':< M ri! 134 MELOLINE SELWrirS WORK. »l: ili I could get a reast-uriug glimpse of his broad shoulders and handsome face. At last he came to me. I half rose, for my aged companion was making me nervous with his anxiety for my comfort. " We will go into the next car ; it may not be so crowded," he said, taking my satchel. Fortu- nately we found a vacant seat ; and I began to feel very safe and content with him again at my side. " I do not think your late traveling companion could have been a widower, or you would not have been so eager to get away. The look of appeal on your face, when I got an occasional glimpse of it, was enough to melt one's heart." I laughed in spite of myself. " It never occurred to me to ask, but he certainly is not a woman hater," I said, with a flush, as I mentally recalled some of his gracious remarks. I made my replies in brief and stately dignity ; or at least as much of the latter as I could command, but he was not easily re-" pulsed. Feeling so secure and sheltered now, my thoughts went out to the unprotected of my sex cast among the evil and heartless, to fight their way purely amid blackness and sin. I shuddered unconsciously. Mr. Winthrop turned to me. "Are you cold?" he asked. " Oh, no, I was only thinking," I stammered. "I would cease thinkhig if the thoughts were FORK. 36 of his broad ) last he came to companion was inxiety for my ; it may not be satchel. Fortu- and I began to m again at my sling companion would not have 3ok of appeal on al glimpse of it, t never occurred 3 not a woman lentally recalled ide my replies in t as much of the V as not easily re- Itered now, my jcted of my sex , to fight their . I shuddered ned to me. r stammered. I thoughts were CITY LIFE. 138 so blood-curdling. May I ask what they were ?" " I was pitying poor girls who have to make their way alone in this wicked world." He was silent for some time, and then said gravely: "Your instincts are very keen. That gray-haired gentleraiin happens to be a person I know something about, and his very presence is enough to contaminate." I was amazed that he so easily understood my meaning. The sun was reddening the sky, which seemed so pure and still compared with the sinful, noisy city that, for an instant, a homesick longing seized me to escape to its clear, beautiful depths. When we reached the hotel I was cold, and feeling very cheerless ; but a comfortable looking maid, not half so overwhelming as our Esmerelda, con- ducted me to a pleasant room, and soon had a bright fire burning, and a cozy breakfast spread on a little table just in front of the grate. I was not hungry, but I took the cup of hot chocolate Mr. Winthrop had ordered, and nibbled a bit of toast ; and then, drawing an easy-chair in front of the fire, soon fell into a luxurious sleep, from which I did not waken for several hours. The maid came in occasionally to replenish the fire, but her light movements did not disturb me. Afterward I found the hotel wivs not a public one, but a private affair, patronized mainly by a number of old fami- lies whose parents andcliildven had come and gone i' i j ,; 'i i ;!l 136 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S [VOBK. 11; !ii for nearly half a century. The room I occupied, ^ Mrs. Flaxman told me, was the very one my own dear mother had occupied as a bride ; and hence Mr. Winthiop had secured it for me. It was the best in the house, I found later on. That evening, after I had wakened refreshed, and eager to see and hear all that was possible in this new wonder- land, Mrs. Flaxman, still a little nervous after her journey and anxiety on my account, came and sat with me; and to atone for keeping me in the house, told me stories of that beautiful, far-away time when she had seen my mother in that same room in the first joy of wifehood, and described my father as the proud, happy bridegroom, gazing with more than a lover's fondness on the beautiful girl who had left all for him, and yet in the renun- ciation had found no sacrifice. She described the rich silken gown with its rare, old lace, and the diamonds she wore at her first party in New York. " Mr. Winthrop has them, your mother's diamonds and all her jewelry. In being an only child like yourself, sheinherited all her own mother's. They are all safely stored at his bankers, and I think he means to give them to you soon, or at least a part of them." "I did not kno\7 I had any except what I brought with me fjom school," I said, with a shade of regret to be so long in ignorance of such a pleasant fact. Mrs. Flaxman smiled as she asked : t i 'ORE. 3m I occupied, ry one my own ;'ide ; and hence le. It was the That evening, nd eager to see lis new wouder- jrvous after her t, came and sat )ing me in the Litiful, far-away er in that same , and described legroom, gazing m the beautiful 3t in the renun- e described the I lace, and the y in New York, her's diamonds only child like (Other's. They and I think he at least a part except what I d, with a shade mce of such a d as she asked : 4 CiTT LIFE. 137 " Did you never hear your schoolmates talk of the family plate and jewelry? " " Oh, yes ; there were a few stupid ones who had very little brains to be proud of; so they used to try and make up for the lack by telling us about such things ; but we reckoned a good essay writer worth a good deal more than these plate owners." " There must have been great changes since 1 was at school. I believe the rising generation is developing a nobler ambition than their predeces- sors possessed." " I should hope so," I said, with girlish scorn ; " as if such mere accidents as birth and the owner- ship of plate and jewelry could give one higher rank than intellect. Why, I believe that is the scarcest thing in all the universe." " It does seem ridiculous," Mrs. Flaxman said reflectively, "but it is hard escaping from the spirit of the age in which we live. It would be easy to hold such things lightly in those heroic days in Greece when Lycurgus cheapened the gold and things the masses held most precious." ^ " One can have a little republic in their own soul as well as Lycurgus, and indulge unforced in high thinking. I think that would be really more creditable than if CM^ry one agreed to do so by act of senate." " It would be a grand thing for every one to get m I ! I I I 1 hi 1! i i If'; 1 1S8 MEDOLINE SELWTira WORK. the dross all burned away from their nature and only have the pure gold left." *' Don't you think, Mrs. Flaxman, with a good many people, after the burning process, there would be so little left it would take a whole flock of them to make a decent sized individual ? " She laughed softly. " I never thought of it in that way. I am afraid now I will get to undress- ing my acquaintances, to try and find out how much that will be fit to take into higher existences they have in their composition." "Mr. Winthrop is a very uncomfortable sort of person to live with, but I think he will have more noble qualities to carry somewhere after death than the average of my acquaintances. What a pity it is for such splendid powers of mind to be lost! He has the materials in him to make a grand angel." Mrs. Flaxman looked up quickly. " You cannot think it is his ultimate destiny to be lost ? " she questioned. " He doesn't believe in the Bible. What hope can he have that we will ever get to heaven ? " " A multitude of prayers are piled between him and perdition. His mother was a saintly charac- ter, whose dying' breath was a prayer for him ; and there are others who have taken his case daily to the mercy seat for years." " I wish I had some one to pray for me," I said rather fretfully. m^ rosK. their nature and an, with a good r process, there ke a whole flock dividual ? " thought of it in 1 get to undress- d find out how tigher existences mfortable sort of e will have more ore after death ances. What a s of mind to be him to make a imate destiny to )le. What hope to heaven ? " led between him a saintly charac- ter for him ; and his case daily to r for me," I said CITY LIFE. 189 **My dear, I do not know any one who has more leisure to pray for themselves than you have." I was surprised to hear her speak so lightly on such a solemn subject ; but as I thought the mat- ter over afterward, I could but acknowledge that she had answered me just as I deserved. m\ 1111 !■• I 1 ! t Hi CHAPTER XII. HEW ACQUAINTANCES. Mrs. PiiAXMAN's fears were realized. She was detained from her pickles and preserves for over a fortnight ; but the days spent then in the city were an entirely new revelation of life to me. Mr. Winthrop had a circle of literary friends, who seemed determined to make his stay so pleasant that he would not be in a hurry to return to the solitude of Oaklands. When I saw his keen en- joyment of their society, and the many varied privileges he had in that brief period — musical, artistic, and literary, I was filled with surprise that he should make his home at Oaklands at all, and expressed my wonder to Mrs. Flaxman. " Oil, he often goes away — sometimes to Europe, and sometimes to the great American centres of thought and life ; then he comes home apparently glad of its quiet and freedom from interruption. I think he uses up all the raw experiences and ideas he gets when away." '1^ t, .( NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 141 ilized. She was serves for over a in the city were fe to me. Mr. •y friends, who stay so pleasant return to the law his keen en- he many varied period — musical, 1 with surprise Oaklands at all, Flaxman. iimes to Europe, rican centres of lome apparently am interruption, experiences and I thought her reply over, and wondered if it was the usual habit of literary people to go out on those foraging expeditious and bring back material vo be used up in weeks of solitude. We were either out among friends, at concerts, lectures, evening gatherings, or else receiving Mr. Win- throp's particular friends at our hotel, every even- ing. I enjoyed those evenings at home, I think, the very best of all. We sat late, supper being served about midnight — a plain, sensible repast that, with a man of Mr. Winthrop's means, might certainly betoken high thinking. However, the intellectual rej;:*at; served to us reminded me of the feasts of t'.ie gods, or even better, in old Homeric times. There were condensed thoughts that often kept me puzzling ever their meanings long after their words had died on the air. Mrs. Flaxman sat, a mostly silent listener, but in no wise showing weariness at the lateness of the hour, or mental strain imposed in following such abstract lines of thought. I too listened silently, save in reply to some direct remark, but with pained, growing thoughts, that often left me utterly weary when the little company dispersed. I would often stop listening and fall into vague, hopeless speculations as to the number of centuries that must elapse before I could overtake them. Saddest fancy of all was that my powers might be too limited even to do this. Our daylight hours were, in great ■i.! t i* 1- . Ij.i : « I ^ ! I 142 MEDOLINE SELWYIf'S WOIIK. measure, passed in making and receiving calls from Mrs. Flaxmun's friends, who seemed very quick to find out she was there, and in visiting the huge dressmaking and dry goods establislmients which she patronized. I found it quite difficult, at times, to reconcile the fact that those we met by day were, in the main, created in the same mental likeness as those I listened to with such admiration in the evening. I used to close my eyes at times and fancy the old lieathen, mythology to be true, and tliat the gods were actually revisit- ing the earth, and bringing with them the high conceptions from Olympus, I was able more clearly than ever to recognise how high were Mr. Win- throp's ideals, so far as this world goes, of human excellence and, with deepest humiliation, remem- bered how far I must have come short of his lowest standards. I went to Mrs. Flaiman with this new and painful discovery, and as usual, she brought her consolation. " Very few can hope to attain such excellence of culture and intellect as these men possess. You and I ought to be grateful to our Creator if he has given us brain power sufficient to appreciate and comprehend tlieir words. I know it has given Mr. Winthrop deep satisfaction to see you so in- terested in their conversation." " How do you know that? " I asked, pleased at her words. VOIIK. receiving calls lio seemed very id in visiting the s establishments it quite difficult, ,t tliose we met ted in the same ed to witli such sed to close my ithen, mythology ) actually revisit- 1 them the high able more clearly I were Mr. Win- goes, of human n illation, remem- xie short of his •3. Flaiman with md AH usual, she a such excellence ise men possess, to our Creator if lent to appreciate know it has given o see you so in- asked, plsased at NEW ACqUAINTANCKS. 143 "I look at him sometimes while you get so absorbed listening that you seem to forget every- thing; and I see the gratified expression of his face while he watches you. I know it v/ould be a disappointment to him if you should develop into a fashionable, feather-headed woman." "Oi a widow-helping philanthropist," I said, laughing. " Of the two, he would prefer the latter." " But neither would be lii-s idciil." " I am not altogether certain of that ; but I do know he holds in strong dislike a woman who simply exists to follow the fashions, no matter how attractive she may be." " I am ashamed to say I like getting new things, especially when they are becoming," I said, a little shamefacedly. " I am sure you would get tired of a perpetual round of new hats and frocks, and trying them on, I am not apt to be mistaken in a person." " But it is vastly easier to think of harmonious colors and combinations of dry goods, than it is to puzzle over those knotty subjects we listen to here in the evening, or to translate Chopin or Wagner, or the other great masters." " But once mastering any of these, the pleasure aiising therefrom gives satisfaction to a noble cast of mind that a whole gallery of Worth's choicest costumes could not produce. '\:^\^ 1 ; 1 ill Ml' i iM- 144 MEDOLINE SEHVYN'S WORK. It ■i! 11 iii '-J ! i| ♦' Solomon said : Much study is a weariness o£ the flesh." "Solomon was an intellectual dyspeptic. But granting that it is a weariness, it is something tiiat pays well for the weariness." "If all the world were to come to Mr. Win- throp's way of thinking, it would be a sad thing for the dressmakers." *' Not necessarily. They would still be needed, but they would do the thinking about what would best suit the style of their respective customei-s ; and the latter would be left free of that special *ask, to devote their minds to their own interior furnishing." "Ah, you describe a second Utopia, or the golden age. A few in each generation might reach that clear, chill region of sublime thought; but the rank and file of womankind, and perhaps of raan- kind,*would despise them as cranks." " But if they had something vastly better than the respect of the careless and uncultured, need they mind what these would say ? ' " Possibly not ; but in most women's hearts there is an innate love of adornment, and the art they will not relegate very willingly to others." " I did not think you cared so much for dress." " You and Mr. Winthrop are putting the strong- est temptations in my way, and then expect that I 8.haU calmly turn my dazzled eyes inwards upoa WORK. is a weariness of dyspeptic. But is something tiiat mo to Mr. Win- id be a sad thing d still be needed, ibout what would jctivo customera ; le of that special lieir own interior . Utopia, or the ation might reach thouglit ; but the perhaps of raan- iks." vastly better than uncultured, need ?' men's hearts there , and the art they o others." much for dress." lutting the strongs then expect that I ^es inwards upon NEIV ACQUAINTANCES. 140 the unfurnished, empty spaces of my own mind." " You seemed to care almost too little for elegance of attire, I thought." " Wliat the eyes do not see the heart never longs for. But glossy velvets, shimmering silks, with colors perfected from the tints of the rainbow ; laces that are a marvel of fineness and beauty ; and gems that might dazzle older heads than mine, thrown recklessly in my way, conld any young creature fond of pretty things turn away from them, with the indifference of a wrinkled pliilosopher? I should have staid at Oaklands, and saved my money for the Mill Road folk." " You must have the temptation, if you are to have the credit of overcoming it." " Is there not a wonderful petition left for us by One who knows all things ? ' Lead us not into temptation.' " " I do not think this is a parallel case. God's way with His people, ever since Eve was denied the fruit in Eden, has been to prov(: thera by temp- tation. His promise that there shah . v/ith the temp- tation, be a way of escape, is whp.t we need to claim." " My way of escape will be to go back to Oaklands, where an occasional tea party will be the most dangerous allurement to vanity in my way." " But you will not always remain there. Mr. Winthrop will not be so remiss in his duty as 10 ■1^ Hi i«4„:>< / 146 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WOTiK. your guardian as to bury you there. Marriage, an(.' a judicious settlement in life, are among the probabilities of your near future." My cheeks crimsoned ; for marriage was one of the tabooed subjects of conversation at Madame Buhlman's. Only in the solitude of our own rooms did we dare to converse on such a topic. But no doubt we wove our romances as industriously, and dreamed our dreams of the beautiful, impossible future stretching beyond our dim horizons, as eagerly as if we had been commanded to spend a certain portion of each day in its contemplation. Mrs. T^'laxman noticed my embarrassment, and, after a few moments said :—" Perhaps the fairy prince has already claimed his own." . I laughed lightly, but still felt ill at ease as I Bald: •' I have never met him, and begin to doubt if he has an existence." « He is sure to come, soon or late ; probably too Boon to please me. I shall miss you sadly when you go away from us." I knelt beside her chair, a lump gathering la ray throat, and my slow coming tears ready to drop. « I do not know why you should miss me, but it makes me so glad to hear you say so I have no one to really lovo me in the wide, wide world, that is, whose love I can claim as a right, and sometimes the thought makes me desolate." She sat for awhile silently stroking my hair. ! 11 5 WOUK. there. Marriage, e, are among the 3." irriage was one of sation at Madame le of our own rooms h a topic. But no i industriously, and jautiful, impossible dim horizons, as imanded to spend a ts contemplation, mbarrassment, and, "Perhaps the fairy own." . felt ill at ease as I and begin to doubt r late ; probably too niss you sadly when amp gathering ia ray ;ars ready to drop, lould miss me, but it I say so. I have no ride, wide world, that right, and sometimes be." stroking my hair. 1 ' 1 NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 147 *'I do not think yours will be a desolr.te, or lonely life, Medoline. It is only the selfish who are punished in that way. The blessing of those about the perish will overtake you, making the shadowy places in your life bright." " But there are no perishing ones conveniently near for me to save. I am of little more use in the world than a humming bird." " Already some of the Mill Road folk have been comforted by you, You remember it is recorded of the Mary of Bethany ; ' She hath done what she could.' For that act of gratitude to the Master, her memory will be cherished long after the sun is cold. We do not know if somewhere all our minutest acts of unselfishness are not recorded, to be met with one day with glad surprise on our part." ♦' I would rather be so remembered," I said with eager longing, " than to be a Cleopatra or Helen of Troy." "In what way is that?" Mr. Winthrop asked, as he stood looking down at me from behind Mrs. Flaxman's chair. I sprang to my feet in consterna. tion. " We did not hear you enter," I faltered, very much ashamed to be found in such a childish at- titude. " I know that, since I woulu not have been just now admitted to your confidence." I wheeled him up an arm chair, and stirred the 1 I ,J ! h > , i ! i' fc IN I ? i H MS I lit nii^ •jiiiii 148 MKDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. fire very industriously, hoping thereby to divert his attention. He sat down quietly. His massive headhiid back against the rich, darkleatlier seemed to bring the features out in stronger relief; the fire light falling uncertainly on his face, but enabling me to note distinctly its expectant look. I went to the window and stood for soretinie watching the passers by in the street, thinking thus to pass away the time until Mr. Winthrop should forget to further question me ; but he suddenly startled me by coming towards the window where I stood, and sayings „ "You have not answered my question. "The remark was only im ended for Mrs. Flaxman's ears, and was of no irapprtance, any way." , "Mrs. Flaxman then will enlighten me as to the bent of your ambition," he said, quite too author- itatively for my liking, and turned towards her. "Our conversation drifted to personal endeavor. We were talking of many things, when Modoline, just as you came in, expressed the wish to be help- ful to others rather than to shine in cold and stately splendor." « Ah, yes. Cleopatra and Helen of Troy were excellent illustrations of the splendor. I am glad she is able to avail herself of her classical studies in conversation." I looked mutely at Mrs. Flaxman, but she was WRK. i-eby to divert his f. His massive kleatlier seemed er relief; the fire ce, but enabling ,look. I went to ne watching the hus to pass away jhould forget to lenly startled me rhere I stood, and uestion." ended for Mrs. irapprtance, any fhten me as to the quite too author- jd towards her. )ersonal endeavor. , when Modoline, le wish to be help- in cold and stately 3len of Troy were endor. I am glad sr classical studies sman, but she was NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 149 gazing intently into the burning coals, with a slight fluLih on hev face, caused, I knew, by Mr. Winthrop's words. A few moments after I glanced at my guardian. His eyes were closed, the lines of his face looked hard and stern. I wondered if it never softened even in sleep, or did it always wear that look that some way brought to my mind the old Vikings of the frozen north. Mrs. Flaxman presently arose saying it was time for us to dress for the concert. Mr. Winthrop looked up to say he had secured us an escort, and would not accompany us. " I thought you particularly admired Beetho- ven's Ninth Symphony," I excl.aimed, with surprise. " I do not think that crowd of amateurs will do muc'^ : although Bovyer gives them great praise. I would as soon hear th.at Larkum baby crowing as to hear such a n^asterpiece mangled." " Some passages will be well rendered, surely." " What matter, if one is all the time dreading a discord ? I Shall expect, however, a full account of the performance from you." "I have already heard this symphony rendered by tl>e court musicians in Belgium. I had no heart to practice my lessons for weeks after." " And why not ? " " It seemed useless for mo to waste time or money over an art so far beyond my powers to, master." i! 1 1. LU , .1 If] I •Hi iMiiii IBO MEDOLINE BELWYira WOSS. His face softened, while he arose from hia chair and came a few steps nearer to me. "Only one or two human beings, so far as we know, have had musical powers equal to Beethoven. Most men are satisfied W they can perform har- moniously his creations." «I could never do that. I might by years of hard study get so far as to strike the correct notes, bttt the soul and expression would elude me, simply because I have not brain power sufficient to com- prehend them. A thrush would be foolish to mulate the nightingale." "Yes but some one might be gladdened by its own simple note," he said, gently. I was silent, while his words sank comfortably in my heart. , Looking up, at last, I caught his eye. " I will try to be satisfied with my thrush's note, and make the best of it." " That is right, but make sure that you are not any better song bird than the thrush, before you rest satisfied wit) its simple accomplishment." Very earnestly and sincerely I promised him to do my best, and then followed Mrs. Flaxman from the room. Our escort proved to be Mr. Bovyer, a grave man, not so young as Mr. Winthrop, and who had a genuine passion for classic music. I fancied from his name and partiality for German composers that he must be either directly or re- OBK. I from his chair gs, so far as we il to Beethoven. ,n perform har- NEW ACQUAINTANCSa. 161 »ht by years of le correct notes, jlude me, simply ifficient to com- 1 be foolish to gladdened by its k comfortably in 13 eye. my thrush's note, that you are not rush, before you nplishment." promised him to rs. Flaxman from be Mr. Bovyer, a r. Winthrop, and classic music. I iality for German er directly or re- motely of Tuetonic origin. Beethoven w«s his great favorite. He averred that the latter had penetrated further into the mysteries of music than any other human being. He seemed trans- formed - 'hile we sat listening to the great waves of harmony bewildering our senses ; for, notwith- standing Mr. Winthrop's prophecy, the concert was a success. He had a stolid face. One might take him. almost for a retired, well-to-do butcher; but when the air was pulsating with delicious sounds, his face lighted up and grew positively handsome. "I wonder how you will endure the music of the immortals, that God listens to, if you get with the saved by and bye?" I said, impulsively. He shook his head doubtfully, but gave me at the same time a look of surprise. " I do not ask for anything better than Beetho- ven," he replied quietly. Some way I felt saddened. The Creator was so much beyond the highest object of his creative skill, even though that is or might be one so glori- ously endowed as Beethoven ; it seemed strange that a thinking, intellectual being would grasp the less when he might lay hold on the greater. I glanced around on the gay, richly-dressed throng — pretty women in garments as harmonious in form and color almost as the music that was thrilling at least some of us ; some of them fair ^n J: : 4^ ■m ■ V iiiiJ Will II mtriiiifiiHi' 162 MEDOLTNE SELWTN'S WORK. enough, I fancied, to be walking in a better world than ours ; then, by some strange freak of the im- agination, I fell to thinking of the poverty and sorrow, and breaking hearts all about us, until the music seemed to change to a minor chord ; and away back of all other sounds I seemed to hear the sob and moan of the dying and broken-hearted. Perhaps some new chord had been touched in my own heart that had never before responded to human things; for in spite of myself I sat and wept with a full, aching heart. I tried to shield my face with my fan and at last regained my com- posure, and tried, in sly fashion, to diy my eyes with the bit of lace I called my handkerchief, and which I found a very poor substitute for the sub- stantial lawn hitherto used. At last I regained my composure sufficiently to look up, when I found Mr. Bovyer regarding me keenly. He glanced away, but after that his manner grew sympathetic, and on our way home he said, " I am glad to know you can understand great musical conceptions." " I found it very, very sad. I scarce ever realized how much pain there might be in this world, as for a little while I did to-night." " The tears were sorrowful then, and not glad ? " he said, gently. " My tears are always that. I cannot conceive a joy so great as to make me weep." ^i^ti:'i;n.^v ■ -. ^i;-, '■.-'. >\v5i^W 1 a better world freak of the im- he poverty and )ut us, until the nor chord ; and med to hear the broken-hearted. 1 touched in my 3 responded to yself I sat and tried to shield igained my com- to diy my eyes indkerchief, and ute for the sub- last I regained ip, when I found y. He glanced ew sympathetic, nderstand great rce ever realized 1 this world, as and not glad ? " mnot conceive a NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 153 -.irSei-'< " Your heart ia not fully wakened yet, some day you will understand ; but be thankful you can understand a part. Not many at your age feel the master's touch so keenly." When we said good- night, he asked permission to call next day. I waited for Mrs. Flaxman to reply, and turned to her, seeing she hesitated. She smiled and I could see answered for me. "We shall be happy to see you. Mr. Win- throp receives his friends, I believe, to-morrow evening." As we went to our rooms she said : — " Won't it be wonderful if you have captivated Mr. Bovyer's heart? — I am sure Mr. Winthrop considered him a safe escort, so far as love entan- glements were concerned." " That old man thinking of love ! He looks as if he thought much more of his dinner than any- thing else." " Probably he does bestow some attention on it; but he is not old, at least not more than six and thirty. Beside he is a very clever man — a musical critic and good writer; in fact, one of Mr. Winthrop's most intimate friends." " That, I presume, speaks volumes in bis favor," I said, perhaps with a touch of sarcasm in my voice. " Yes ; Mr. Winthrop is an unerring judge of character ; that is, of late years." " Well, I would neaily as soon think of marry- ing Daniel Blake as this Mr. Bovyer. I have i3. ■ jwm w n- ii — 154 MEDOLINE SELWYirs WORK. never been in love, but I have an idea what it is," I said, following Mis. Flaxniau to her room. " But Mr. Bovyer might teach you. Did you ever read Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream?" " Oh, yes ; and of Titania and Bottom of course, but that was only a dream — Mr. Bovyer is a very solid reality. But I must not stay here gossip- ing. Mr. Winthrop will bo waiting for my de- scription of the TUislc." 1 slipped into my own room to lay aside my wraps, still smiling over Mrs. Flaxmau's cliildish ideas respecting Mr. Bovyer in the r6le of a iover, and also a little troubled about the wording of the report I was expected to give. His smile would be more sarcastic than ever, if I confessed my tears ; and, alas, I had but little other impression to convey of tlie majestic harmonies than one of profound sadness. I gknced into my mirror ; the picture reflected back startled me. In the hand- some gown, with the same gems that had once enhanced my mother's charms, the transformation T7rought was confjiderable ; but my eyes were shining with a deep, unusual brilliancy, and a new expression caused by the influences of the evening Irnd changed m;^ face almost beyond my own recognition. T went down to the parlor whrre I found Mr. Winthrop absorbed in his book. I stood near waiting for him to look, but he remained -.vp,i(.a'^i>k.--iiv^'*'- '•1^1 111 VORK. idea what it is," her room. I you. Did you lummer Night's Bottom of course, Bovver is a very itiiy here gossip- ting for my de- to lay aside my axman's cliildish le rdle of a iover, le wording of the His smile would nf essed my tears ; ler impression to lies than one of 3 my mirror ; the e. In the hand- is that had once le transformation t my eyes were liancy, and a new jes of the evening beyond mv own lie parlor whr-re I I his book. I stood but he remained NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 1S6 unconscious of my presence. I went to the fire- side. On the mantle I noticed, for the first time, a bust of the great master whose music had just been echoing so mournfully in my ears. I took it in my hand and went .nearer the light, soon as absorbed in studying the indrawn melancholy face as was my guardian over his book. When I looked at him his book was closed, and liis eyes regarding me attentively. ,, " Do you recognize the face ? " " Oh, yes. I wonder he looks like other men." "Why should he look differently ? " " Because he was different. I wonder what his thoughts were when he was writing that syra- phony ? " I held the bust off reflectively. " Did you enjoy your evening's entertainment ? " " Yes and no, — I wish you had been there, Mr. Winthrop. Please don't ask me to describe it." " I will get sti description of how you received it then from Bovyer — he could tell me better than you. He rends faces so well, I sometimes have a fear he sees too far beneath our mask.'' " I don't want to see him any more then," I said impetuously. "Why not?" '■ I do not want my soul to be scrutinized by strange eyes, any more than you do, Mr. Winthrop." " How do you know that I object ? " ! i V ^:.:.'rjw«Mii«iiiji» "11 umtfT* 156 MEDOLINE SBLWYN'S WOnK. ii § •' Did you not say just now you had a fear he saw too deeply into us ? " " Possibly. I was speaking in a general way- meant humanity at large, rather than my own individual self." " Would you care if I could see all the thoughts and secrets of vour soul just at this moment, Mr. Winthrop?" I said, taking a step nearer, and looking intently into his eyes, which returned my look with one equally ponotrating. "No, Medoline. You, least of any one I know," he said, quietly. I looked at him with surprise — perhaps a trifle grieved. "Does that offend you?" he asked after a pause. " It wounds me ; for I am your friend." " I am glad of that, little one." " Glad that you have given me pain ? " I asked, with an odd feeling as if I wanted to burst into a fit of childish weeping. He left his chair and came to ray side. " \^'hy do you look so sorrowful, Medoline ? I meant that it gave me pleasure that you were my friend. I 'lid not think that you cared for me." " I am surprised at myself for caring so much for you when you are so hard on me. I suppose it is because you are my guardian, and I have no one else, scarcely, to love." I was beginning to think I must either escape hastily to my room, or 1 ^^hy^ WORK, yon had a fear he a general way — er than my own e all the thoughts this moment, Mr. step nearer, and hich returned my [ig. t of any one I )ked at him with i. le asked after a ir friend." Spain?" Tasked, ited to burst into my side. ful, Medoline? I that you were my u cared for me. or caring so much on me. I suppose Ian, and I have no was beginning to bily to my room, or 1 NEW AdiUAINTANCES. laz apply the bit of cobweb lace once more to my eyes, which, if I could judge from my feelings, would soon be saturated with my tears. " I did not think I was hard on you," he said, gently. " I have been afraid lest I w a humoring your whims too much ; but unselfishness, and thought for the poor, have been such rare traits in the characteristics of my friends, I have not had a heart hard enough to interfere with your instincts." Here was an entirely new revelation to me ; I bethought me of Mrs. Flaxman's remark a short time before, and repeated it to him. " I do not think I shall ever have paternal feel- ings towards you, Medoline, I am not old enough for that. Tell Mrs. Flaxman, if she speaks that way again, I am not anxious"* for lier to fasten in your heart filial affection for me." " But we may be just as much to each other as if you were my own father?" I pleaded. " Quite as much," he said, with emphasis. I forgot my tears ; for some way my heart had got so strangely light and glad, tears seemed an unnec- essary incumbrance ; and even the thought that had been awaked by the disturbing harmonies of Beethoven's majestic conceptions were folded peacefully away in their still depths again. n i ' ; \ ■i ' 1 ■ I I 1 II , ?' CHAPTER XIII. ALONE WITH HI8 DEAD. fi|i At breakfast Mr. Winthrop was moi o insistent in his curiosity about the concert of the previous evening. Mra. Flaxman assured him that we were all agreeably disappointed in our evening's enter- tainment. •* Mr. Bovyer was especially charmed with Medoline's appreciation of his favorite composer. He asked permission to call on her to-day." He gave me a keen glance, saying : " I hope you did not grow too enthusiastic. One need not hang out a placard to prove we can comprehend the intricate and profound." Mrs. Flaxman answered hastily for me. " No, indeed ; she was too quiet ; and only Mr. Bonyer and myself detected the tears dropping be- hind her fan. But Mr. Bovyer seemed gratified at the meaning he read from them." l'^'\^1 ALONE nnn nis dead. 160 [I. >EAD. as moio insistent t of the previous him that we were V evening's enter- y charmed with avorite composer. ler to-day." raying : " I hope c. One need not can comprehend y for me. iet ; and only Mr. tears dropping be- eemed gratified at My face was burning ; but after a few seconds' silence I stole a glance at Mr. Wintlirop. He was apparently absorbed in his breakfast, and Beet- hoven's Symphonies were not mentioned in his pres- ence until evening, wlien Mr. Bovyer, true to his appointment, sat chatting for two or three hours with Mr. Wintlirop and his other guests. As usual, I sat a silent listener, comprehending readily a good many tilings that wore said ; but some of the conversation took me quite beyond my depth. I found Mr. Bovyer could grow eloquent over his favorite topics, which, from his plilcgmatic appear- ance, surprised me. He seemed thoroughly ac- quainted with other subjects than music, and I noticed that even Mr. Wintlirop listened to his remarks with deference. Before the evening closed Mr. Winthrop asked him for some music. He complied so readily that I fell to contrasting his unaffected manner with that of lady musicians who, as a rule, take so much coaxing to gratify their friends' desire for music, and their own vanity at the same time. I noticed Mr. Winthrop settling back into his favorite position in his arm-chair — his head thrown back and eyes closed. Mrs. Flaxraan took up her fan and held it as if shielding her eyes from the light. T discovered afterward it was merely a pretext to conceal the emotion Mr. Bovyer usually awakened when she listened to his ipusior I ; 11 H i * ,i ri 1 I w .rt«*«S«'!J53tvsa«»tt»WPW^ . -r„'nSBK'.'^^/^'«v.-t^.>wr^i 160 MEDOLINE SEL WYN'S WOSZk. His first touch on the piano arrested me, and I turned around to watch his face. I recognized the air — the opening passage from Haydjjii's Creation. I was soon spellbound, as were all the rest. Mrs. Flaxman laid down her fan ; there were no melting passages to bring tears in this symphony, descriptive of primeval darkness, and confusion of the elements, the evil spirits hurrying away from the glad, new light into their* native regions of eternal night — the thunder and storm -.nd elemental terrors. Presently I turned to Mr. Winthrop. He was sit- ting orect in his chair, his eyes no longer closed in languorous enjoyment; when suddenly the meas- ure changed to that delicious passage descriptive of the creation ci; birds. Mr. Bovyer's voice was a trifle too deep and powerful for the air, but it was sympathetic and rarely musical. He ended as abruptly as he began and glided off into one of those old English glees, — " Hail, Smil- ing Morn." Presently turning around he asked : ♦' Are you tired?" " We have failed to take note of the flight of time ; pray go on," Mr. Winthrop urged. " What do you say. Miss Selwyne ? " " I would like if you could make Mr. Winthrop cry. If you tried very hard, you might touch his fountain of tears." " Bravo I I will trv," ho exclaiuod amid thp 8 WORK. arrested me, and I e. I recognized the Haydjjii's Creation, all the rest. Mrs. ere were no melting nphony, descriptive sion of the elements, from the glad, new . of eternal night — elemental terrors, throp. He was sit- no longer closed in suddenly the meas- passage descriptive Bovyer's voice was for the air, but it sical. tegan and glided off i'lees, — " Hail, Smil- asked : ♦' Are you •te of the flight of •op urged. wyne ? " nake Mr. Winthrop ou might touch his ixclaiued amid ihp aLOne with bis dead. 161 general laugh. He touched the keys, and then pausing a moment, left the instrument. "I am not in the mood to-night for such a difficult task. I may make the attempt some stormy winter's night at Ouklands. I believe I have a standing invitation there," he said, joining us around the fire. Mr. Winthrop threw me an amazed look, but instantly recovering himself he said heartily : — " The invitatiOi. holds good during the term of our natural lives. The sooner it is accepted the more delighted we shall le." Mr. Bovyer bowed his thanks, and coming to my side asked if I would care to attend another con- cert the following evening. " It depends on what the music is to be. I am not so sensitive as Mr. "Winthrop to a few false notes now and then. TIic composer has more power to give me pain than the performers, I believe." " I should say, then, tliat your comprehension of music was more subtle than his." " I do not pretend to compare myself with Mr. Winthrop in any way. It would be like the rain- now claiming fellowship with the leviathan." Mr. Winthrop suggested very politely : — " Humility is bocoming until it grows abject." " Your guardian is an incorrigible bachelor. Ladies do not get tlie slightest mercy from him," Mr. Bovyer remarked. 'B ■: i ''] I 'ii i ill 5 I ! '-} u %J.'* 162 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. " I have ceased to look for any," I said, with an evenness of voice that surprised me. " I am glad to find myself in such good com- pany," Mr. Winthrop said, with a graceful bend of the head, which included each of his guests in the list of single blessed ones. "Are you all going to be old bachelors?" I asked, forgetting myself in the surprise of the moment. "I am not aware that we are all irrevocably committed to that terrible fate," Mr. Bovyer said, as he united in the general smile at m) expense. " It might be more terrible for some of your wives than if you remained single. I think some persons are fore-ordained to live single." I looked steadily in the fire lest my eyes might betray too much. " Do you imagine those blighted lives are con- fined solely to one sex ? " Mr. Winthrop bhindly inquired. " Oh, no ; nature does not confine her oddities to one sex ; but a woman can better conceal the lack of a human heart and sympathies." " You mean they are better actresses ? " " Yes, I think so." ♦' 1 must tell you, gentlemen, this little ward of mine is a natural philanthropist. You would he amazed to see how she sympathizes with widows and the b i .iken-hearted of both sexes. I have been Ii'l I'kl ,^^i'?« WORK. r," I said, with an me. I such govid com- i a graceful bend ii of his guests in Id bachelors?" I 3 surprise of the ,re all irrevocably Mr. Bovyer said, J at m) expense, for some of your le. I think some single." I looked might betray too bted lives are con- Winthrop blandly )nfine her oddities better conceal the pathies." pCtresses ? " this little ward of at. You would he hizes with widows sexes. I have beeu ALONE WITH UIS DEAD. 163 forced to limit her charities to a certain yearly amount lest her husband may one day call me to account for her wasted means." "It is the most beautiful trait in womankind." Mr. Bovyer responded, heartily, just as a passionate retort liad sprung to my lips. Thg second's inter- ruption gave me time to regain my self-control ; but the color flamed over brow and cheek as I rose and walked to the farther end of the room and stood turning over the leaves of a book lying on the table. I could still hear what was said and was surprised that Mr. Winthrop turned the con- versation so cleverly into other channels. It was growing late, and before long the guests retired. Mr. Bovyer, as he siiook hands with me, said : "You have not answered my question yet. Will you come to the Philharmonic to-morrow evening ? " I looked to Mr. Winthrop for a reply. " I think you must deny yourself that pleasure, as we shall probably go home to-morrow." " So soon ? " I asked with surprise. "The time I limited myself to expired yesterday. We can return this winter, and complete any un- finished business or pleasure that you now leave undone." " My business is finished. It happens to be a pleasure to return to Oaklands." I murmured my thanks to Mr. Bovyer, and withdrew the liand he was still holding. ' ii ■r y ; 't& ^m yyiK^ i'i* 164 MEDOLINE SELWrira WORK. When we were at last alone, Mrs. Flaxinan drew lier chair near the fire and settling back comfort- ably as if she were in no hurry to retire, said very seriously : — " This is unexpected — our going home to-morrow." " I am afraid Bovyer is about making an ass of himself. Strange what weaknesses come over strong men sometimes I He was the last I should have expected such a thing from," Mr. Winthrop said. "Was it fear of this that sends you home so abruptly ? " Mrs. Flaxman askedj with a look of amusement. "One reason." " He would be a very good parti ; only a little too old, perhaps." " What are you thinking of ? I shall not let that child get entangled for years." He said, almost angrily. " What has Mr. Bovyer done ? " I inquired, a good deal mystified. " You are too young to have everything ex- plained. I want 3'ou to keep your child's heart for a good many years yet." " What a pity young people cannot keep the child's heart until they get some good out of life. Not begin ac once with its storms and passions," Mrs. Flaxman remarked, in a moralizing tone. "Do you mean falling in love, Mrs. Flaxman?" 'ORK. i. Flaxinan drew y back comfort- retire, said very ■our going home laking an ass of ses come over /he last I should Mr. Winthrop ds you home so V with a look of ti; only a little I shall not let ears." He said, " I inquired, a everything ex- 3ur child's heart cannot keep the good out of life, ns and passions," i-alizing tone. Mrs. Flaxman?" ALONE WITH HIS DEAD. 165 " Possibly that was what I meant, but it is to be a tabooed topic with you for some yeai-s yet, Mr. Winthrop decides." *' You have been unusually fortunate in that re- spect, Mr. "Winthrop. I used to think every one fell in love before they came to your age." Mrs. Flaxman glanced at him with a pained, startled look wtiich I did not understand. I noticed that his face though grave was unruffled; but he made me no reply. I could not explain ihe reason, but I felt grieved that I had made the remark, [and slipped quietly out of the room without my usual good-night. The next day we left for home. Mr. Winthrop was not fortunate in meeting friends ; so he sat beside us. I would have preferred being alone with Mrs. Flaxman, without the restiint of his society. We had not been able on that train to secure a parlor car, for which I was very glad. There seemed more variety and wider types of hu- manity in the plainer car, and I liked to study the different groups and indulge in my dreams con- cerning them. My attention was suddenly attract- ed, at a station we were approaching, by a hearse and funeral procession apparently waiting for us. The cars moving along presently hid them from my view, and my attention was suddenly distracted from this melancholy spectacle by the unusual cir- cumstance of a man coming alone into the car \4 u,u. 166 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. with an infant in his arms. The cars scarcely paused, and while I watched to see the mother following her haby the brakeman came in with an armfuU of shawls, satchels, and baskets. The baby soon began to cry; when it was pitiful to watch the poor fellow's futile efforts to hush its wailings, while he tossed over the parcels ai)par- ently in search of something ; but the baby's cries continued to increase in volume, and the missing article, whatever it was, refused to turn up. Mr. Winthrop cast a look on it that might have annihilated a much stronger specimen of humanity; but the father, as I supposed him to be, intercepted the wrathful gaze, and his face, already sorrowful looking, became more distressed than evor. I waited impatiently for some older woman to go to his relief ; but men and women alike seemed to regard tlie little waif with displeasure ; so at last slipping swiftly out of my seat lest Mr. Win- throp might intercept me, I went straight to the poor fellow's relief. "What is the matter with the baby?" I asked, as sympathetically as I could. " He is hungry, and they have taken his food by mistake, I am afraid, to the baggage car." ♦' May I take care of him while you go for it?" " If you only would, I would be so grateful." I sat down and he put the bit of vocality in my arms, and then hastened after its dinner. I glanced '^i2^!^"'~ VOBK. .0 cars scarcely see the mother [1 came in with il baskets. The it was pitiful to forts to hush its e parcels aijpar- , the baby's cries and the missing D turn up. tliat might have Qen of humanity ; :o be, intercepted ilready sorrowful han evor. older woman to nen alike seemed ispleasure; so at at lest Mr. Win- it straight to the baby?" I asked, e taken his food iggage car." 3 you go for it?" )e so grateful." of vocality in my dinner. I glanced if-'iyh. ALONE yyiTU UIS DEAD. 167 towards Mr. Winthrop. I fancied that his face ex- pressed volumes of shocked proprieties ; so I quickly withdrew my gaze, since it was not at all comfort- ing, and devoted myself exclusively to the poor little baby. Its clothing had got all awry, los hands were blue with cold, and the tears from its pretty, blurred eyes were running in a copious stream. I dried its face, took off its cap and cloak, and got its garments nicely straightened out, and then to com- plete tbe cure, for want of something better, gave it my long suffering watch to nibble. The little creature may have recognized the soothing effect of a woman's hands, or it may have been the bright tick, tick which it was gazing at now with pleased expression, and with its untutored tongue was already trying to imitate. What the cause waa I could not say; but when the father returned, silence reigned in the car so far as his offspring was concerned. His face brightened perceptibly. " It does seem as if a baby knew a woman's touch," he said, with such a sigh of relief. " They know when their clothes are comfortable and their hands warm." " His mother always attended to him. He and I were only playfellows. " Where is his mother now? " I asked, no longer able to restrain my curiosity. " In the freight room." His eyes filled with tears. L «S I' I u M J,. L J •I m t ! ^ \"Mn Hi il! 168 MEDOLINE HELWYN'S WORK. " W^t> it hi I- coffin I saw in the he.'.rto awhile HgO?" ■'^ Ok i K-'Vi no sorry;" and I too burst into tears. He busied his M getting a spirit lamp lighted, and soon the baby's milk was simmering, and almost before good humor had been restored throughout the car the baby had comfortably dined, and gone off into a refreshing slumber. I made him a snug little bed out of rug;} and shawls, and laid him down in blissful unconsciousness of the cold, still form, even more unconscious than he, in the adjoin- ing freight room. The passengers as well as Mr. Wintlirop liad been watching me curiously, and my sudden buret of tears had mystified them. , Once the baby was nicely settled to its nap I returned to my seat. Mis. Flaxman eagerly asked why there was no wcinan to look after the baby. I saw Mr. Winthrop listening, as if interested also in the strange phenomenon of a man in attendance alone on an infant. " The mother is in the freight room." "What? " Mrs. Flaxman asked, looking a trifle alarmed. , ? • "She is in her coffin." My lip trembled, and with difficulty I restrained my tears once more. " How dreadful ! " she murmured, and presently I saw her wiping away her own tears. VOIili. 10 he.'.rte awhile burst into tears, amp lighted, and ring, and almost lOred throughout dined, and gone nade him a snug Is, and laid him of the cold, still he, in the adjoin- r. Winthrop liad my sudden burst led to its nap I an eagerly asked t after the baby, if interested also lan in attendance oom." i, looking a trifle ip trembled, and irs once more. ;d, and presently 3ars. ALONE WITH HIS DK.iD. 169 •' And y^a were the only one brave enough to go to him in his trouble. Medoline, 1 am proud of you, but ashamed of myself." "I couldn't help going; he looked so distressed, and I could see he wasn't fit to look after the baby. Men are so useless about such things," I said, giv- ing Mr. Winthrop a humorous glance. "Another case of widowers," Mr. Winthrop whispered, as he bent his head near to mine ; but I saw that he too was not unmoved, and the look he bestowed upon me wus equal to a caress. " I am going to speak to that poor man myself." Mrs. Flaxmau said very energetically, after she had got her eyes dried. She went, but very soon I saw her handkerchief in active service again. They sat chatting a long time, while all the passenger.; seemed to have a growing interest in their fellow traveller and his little cliarge. The latter wakened while Mrs. Flax- man was still lingering beside the bereaved father. It cried at first; but she soon got him so comfort- able and content, that he was laughing and cooing into the wintry looking faces of his father and new nurse. I wanted to have the dear little fellow in my own arms, he had such a bright, intelligent face, and his smile was so sunny ; but I could not muster courage to go and ask for him. Mrs. Flaxman probably noticed my wistful look, for she presently returned to her own seat bring- m ifjih -'<8IW P l w*" ^ 'W iii if Lii'l! 170 MKUOLINE SELWrys WOllK. ing him with her. Slio h;id scarcely loft the fiithcr'8 side when a white-haired, kii.dly-fuced old gentleman at the farther end of the car got npand came stumbling along, and took a seat beside him. The poor fellow winced. He shrank, no doubt, from opening his wound afresh for another stranger to probe. But there was something so sympathetic in the old man's face, and the heurty shake of the hand that he gave without even sjjeaking, that I concluded he would do more good than harm. After sitting a little while in silence, I overheard him telling how he had heard of his trouble through the conductor. I had not asked him any- thing about his wife's death, that seemed a grief too sacred to explain to a perfect stranger ; but ho had told Mrs. Flaxman all, and I sat listening with a strong desire to cry while she repeated the story to us. " His wife died very suddenly," she said, " and they were all strangers where they lived; but every one, he said, was so kind. He is taking his baby home to his mother. They live a little way out of Cavendish. He said he knew us ; and was never so surprised at anything in his life as when a beautiful young lady, like you, traveling, too, with Mr. Winthrop, came and took his baby. Everybody was looking so crossly at the baby, he had just begun to feel as if there was no sympathy for him in all this world full of strangers j but, h "iTlLji VOliK. arcely loft tlio kii.dly-fuced old le car got up and seat beside liini. rank, uo doubt, another stranger g so sympathetic rty shake of the S2)eaking, that I ;ood than harm, ice, I overheard of his trouble ; asked him any- t seemed a grief stranger ; but ho . I sat listening she repeated the ' she said, " and they lived; but He is taking his live a little way lew us ; and was 1 his life as when u, traveling, too, took his baby. ■f at the baby, he was no sympathy : strangers; but. ALONE WITH Uim DEAD. 171 when you came, there was a great load taken off his heart. I niean after this to be more on tho watch to help others." " Why, Mrs. Flaxraan, I thought that was one of your strongest characteristics." " Don't ever say such a thing to me again, when if it had not been for a tender-hearted child, with the ver>- poorest possible opinion of herself, we might have, amongst us, finished breaking that poor fel- low's heart." " You will make her vain if you continue praising her so much," Mr. Winthrop remon- stmted. " She has not a natural tendency that way, and we have not helped to foster her vanity ; if we have erred, it has been in tho other direction." " Please let us cease talking personalities. Why don't you admire and talk about this lovely boy ? Wouldn't you like to have us adopt him at Oak- lands, Mr. Winthrop ? " " I expect you will not be quite satisfied until you get the position of matron in some huge asy- lum for widows and orphans, with a few widowers thrown in for variety." *» I should enjoy such a position, I believe. It never occurred to me before. Only think! Gathering up little bits of motherless humanity like this, and training them into noble men and women. They would go on perpetuating my wor^ AM 172 MEDOLISK SKLWYN'H WOlili. w m M long after my eyes were sloopiiig under the daisies. Why that wouUl bo next thing to the inunortality most of us long for." "Do you really think you would like such a career ?" "Yes, really. If you would only help mo to begin now, in a small way at first, and bu'ld a pretty cottage in one of the Glens around Oak- lands." "Have you no higher ambition than to take care of children ? " " But what could be higher, at least within my reach? I am not clever enough to write books — at least not good ones, and tliore are too many fifth and sixth rate ones now in the market. My painting and music won't ever amount to any- thing more than my book-writing could do; so what remains for me but to try and make the world the better for having lived in '.t? And the only way any of us can do that is to work for human beings." I was in such real earnest, I forgot for the time Mr. Winthrop's possible sarcasm. " You are not very moderate in your demands. Possibly I would be permitted to share in the posthumous honors you mention, which would be some recompense for the outlay. Of course, I would be called on to feed and clothe, as well as shelter, your motley crowd." WK ^11 III f I VOliK. iidor tlio daisies, tho iininortality uld like such a inly help mo to list, and bu'ld a ns around Oak- than to take care least within my to write books — are too many in the market, r amount to any- ig could do ; so y and make the in ;t? And the ; is to work for rcTot for the time II your demands. . to share in the , which would be ,y. Of course, I lothe, as well as ALONE WITH HIS DEAD. 173 "I forgot about tliat. Would it cost very much ? " " The expense would depend largely on the numbers you received, and it might not bo safe to trust to your discretion in limiting the number. Your syrapatliies would be so wrouglit on. Oak- lands would soon swarm witii blear-eyed specimens of humanity, and Mrs. Flaxman and I would be compelled to seek some other shelter." " If I were only rich myself," I ^aid, with a hopeless sigh. " You would very soon be poor," Mrs. Flaxman interjected, turning to Mr. Winthrop. "I could scarcely restrain her from buying one of the most expensive pieces of bruadcloth for her blind friend." "He may never have had a genuine suit of West of England broadcloth in his life, and I wanted him to have the best. The difference in price would only amount to a few dollars ; and if we were getting ourselves a satin or velvet gown we would not have hesitated a moment over the dif- ference of five or six dollars." " My ward will need some severe lessons in economy before she can be entrusted with a house full of children. Paris dolls atid becoming dresses for her prettiest chih^ on would soon drain the pocket." I said no more. My enthusiasm, viewed in the t I 4. ■ i' 4 "4, Jjctif i«!«8«K!UaaKVW«snw(«s I ! 174 iHEDOLINB SELWYN'S WO:iK. light of my guardian's cold criticism, seemed ex- ceedingly Utopian, and I concluded that my best plan was to do the work tliat came in my way cheerfully and lovingly, without sighing hopelessly after the impossible. To make the motherless little fleck of immortality happy that now nestled confidingly in my aj-ms for a brief hour, was the work that just then lay nearest to me ; and I set myself aoout doing it with right good will. As we neared Cavendish, the kindly faced old gentleman started for his own seat, but paused on the way at my side, and shook my hand cordially as he said : " I want to thank you. Miss, for giv- ing us all such a wholesome lesson. I am an old man now, and can look back over the deeds of more than three score and ten years ; and I tell you there's none gives me more real satisfaction than the acts of kindness I've done to others. If I were beginning the journey again, I'd set myself to do such work as that, ratlier than trying to pile up money that at the last I'd have to leave to some one that mightn't thank me. I've a fancy, too, that the kindnesses follow us into another life. If I don't mistake, when you get old like me, you'll have many pleasr.ut memories of the kind to look back upon ; and then you may remember the old man's words long after he has crumbled to dust." I smiled brightly up into his strong, wholesome face and would really have liked to know more "s wonK. iriticism, seemed ex- ludeil that my best t Ciinie in my way ut sighing hopelessly ake the motherless ipy that now nestled brief hour, was the •est to me ; and I set ;ht good will, the kindly faced old seat, but paused on c my hand cordially k you, Miss, for giv- jsson. I am an old :; over the deeds of ten years ; and I tell ore real satisfaction e done to others. If again, I'd set myself 3r than trying to pile have to leave to some 3. I've a fancy, too, into another life. If it old like me, you'll 3 of the kind to look ay remember the old 3 crumbled to dust." lis strong, wholesome liked to know more -it ALONE WITH HIS DEAt). 176 about him, but like many a person we meet on the journey of life, as ships on some wide sea, signal briefly to each other and then pass out of sight, so I never saw or heard of him afterward. He stood a moment stroking the baby's curly head, and then with a murmured " God bless the little lad," he passed on to his own seat. I felt instinctively that all this sentiment would be exceedingly dis- tasteful to Mr. Winthrop, and was amused at the look of relief that passed over his face when our own station was reached. As I returned the baby to his father, he gras^^ed my hand with a pressure that pained me and said, scarce above a whisper: " I will pass your kindness along to some other desolate one some day. It is the only recompense within my power to make you. ' " What I did has been a genuine pleasure. This little fellow has far overpaid me." " It was a great deal you did for me just at that bitter moment." " I wish I could do more to lighten your son-ow," I said, with tears of syir.pathy in my eyes as I said my final good-bye, and hastened after Mr. Win- throp, who was waiting, I knew impatiently, on the platform. I saw Samuel assisting Thomas to control the horses, who were always • . awe of the snorting engine ; and near them stood a lumbering express, into which the men were putting the long box that I knew contained the rigid body ■:l.. it'*:' ' hat I kissed her exclaimed, "its u bursting in on your papa. He y as you." hy did you never ?" HUMBLE CHABITIE8. 17d I . " It did not occur to me to tell you. Does it please you to know it? " " Certainly it does. It takes away the feeling that I am a changeling, which often haunts me when you tell me I aiu odd and unconventional," I said, turning to Mrs. Fiaxraan. " Darling, 1 would rather have you just as you are. If we went to make improvements, we would only spoil a bit of God's sweetest handiwork." " Oh, Mrs. Flaxman, wliat a tremendous com- pliment I Mr. Winthrop would read you another lecture, if he heard you say that." " Some day we may need to lecture him," she said with a smile, and then went into her own room, leaving me a trifle perplexed over her meaning. When we joined Mr. Winthrop in the dining room we found the table laid with its usual preci- sion and elegance for dinner. As I stood on the hearth-rug, looking around the plciisant room, the firelight glancing on the polished silver, and china, and lighting up the beautiful pictures on the walls, no wonder the cheerful home scene made me, for the time, forget the solitary mourner with his dead, out in the cold and darkness. Mrs. Flaxman presently joined me. Drawing her an easy-chair close to the cheerful blaze I knelt on the rug beside her, the easier to stroke Fleta, the pretty Angora cat, who with lier rough toiigiie licked my hand *i«^ P r y WWI W (W9 ^#"W iw wpi ■ I u wa.^ff«*"*W4*tf» •-■"*— ^ »■ !i§i' 180 MEDOLINE SELWTirS WORK with affectionate welcome. Presently Mr. Win- throp joined us. His presence at first unnoticed in our busy chat,. I happened to turn my head and saw him calmly regarding us. " You would make a pleasant picture, kneeling there with the firelight playing in your hair," he saia, coming to my side. "Tlie picture would be moie perfect now that you have joined us." " No, my presence would spoil it. A child play- ing with her kitten needs no other figures to com- plete the picture." " Ah, that spoils your compliment." , "Mr. Winthrop very judiciously mixes his sweets and bitters," Mra. Fiaxman said with a smile. "Yes; I should bo too vain if he gave me a compliment really. I wonder if he ever will do that ? " I looked up into his face and saw that its expression was kindly. " You would not wish me to spoil ycu. If my praising you made you vain, as you just said it would, that would be the worst unkindness." "I Avant you always to be honest with me. A very slight word of praise then will have its genuine meaning." " Now that we have once more settled our rela- tions to each other, we will take our dinners. One must decend from the highest summits to the trivialities of eating and drinking." WMl m WOBZ sently Mr. Win- drst unnoticed in irn my head and You would make with the fireliglit ming to my side, perfect now that it. A child play- er figures to com- ent." 3usly mixes his aau said with a I if he gave me if he ever wUl do 3 and saw that its spoil ycu. If ray } you just said it nkindness." honest with me. len will have its e settled our rela- ake our dinners. ;st summits to the g." \W UUMBLE CIIARITIEa. 181 " I have never seen you very high up yet, Mr. Winthrop. I do not tliiiik there is a spark of sentiment in your composition." "Alas, that I should ho so misjudged. But wait until your friend Bovyer shows you my teal's." Mrs. Flaxman generally looked a trifle worried when Mr. Winthrop and I got into conversation. This night, when I wanted every one to be happy, I held my troublesome tongue in check, and made no further reply to my guardian's badinage. When I went to my room for the night, I drew back my curtain and looked out into the darkness of a cloudy, moonless night. It chilled me, I wondered if the baby and its father, with the cold, still form of the once happy mother, had got into the Ught and warmth of home. I compared our bright evening together Ik the drawing-room, where Mr. Winthrop had sat with us reading, or rather translating as he read, some splendid pas- sages from his favorite classical authors, a treat not often granted , but he was, I fancied, too tired to read or study in his library alone. I too had tried to add my share to the evening's entertainment ; singing mostly some German home songs to an accompaniment on the piano. He had not criti- cised my performance, a fact very encouraging to me. But now, as I stood looking out into the black ^vre^ftsfimMfi^r. ■T» >■*?"■ )rM*KMMl*»N**«r W(^ 182 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. i.jj-i -J' V h' . 'I i: >r„s night, I thought of their journey over the rough roads, already beginning to freeze, the baby cold and hungry, and so tired. I tunied hurriedly from the window and knelt to say my prayers, a new element entering into my petitions. Forgetting the stereotyped phrases, I remembered with pe- culiar vividness the impetuous prayer uttered by Mr. Lathrop at Mrs. Blake's funeral, and I too tried to bring comfort to another by prayer. There was such help in the thought that God never for- gets us. I so soon forgot amid the pleasures of home-coming the sorrows of another ; but Ho watches ever. The splendors of His throne and crowns, and the adoration of the highest intel- ligences never so absorbing Him as to cause forget- fulness of the humblest parish pensioner, looking Heavenward for consolation. " Oh, to be more God-like, more unforgetting ! " I murmured, still lingering in the attitude of prayer. I do not think in all my life, I had got so near to the Divine Heart. The next morning an agreeable duty awaited me. First, I had the materiiils for Mr. Bowen's new suit, and along with these a good many lesser gifts for one and another. In the daily papers, I studied very industriously the notices of cheap sales of dry goods while in the city ; and for such a novice in the art of shopping, I made some really good bargains. When I came to get my presents >il^ Ijj-H:* VORK. over the rough s, the baby cold d hurriedly from y^ prayers, a new •lis. Forgetting nbered with po- i-ayer uttered by leral, and I too y prayer. There t God never for- the pleasures of lother ; but Ho His throne and le highest intel- ,s to cause forge t- msioner, looking Oh, to be more murmured, still I do not think ir to the Divine jle duty awaited for Mr. Bowen's jood many lesser e daily papers, I aotices of cheap y ; and for such nade some really get my presents IWMULE CHARITIES. 183 i li all unpacked I found that Thomas' services would be required if I took all at once. I found him at last in the kitchen, superintend- ing the preparation of some medicine for one of his horses. Making known my errand, he consented to drive me to the Mill Road; but first assured me that it would disarrange all his plans for the day. Thomas was an old bachelor, with ways very set and precise ; and his hours were divided off as regularly as a collego professor's. On our way out he informed me that the widow Larkum was very ill, with the doctor in attendance. I was surprised that his words should give me such a sinking at the heart. « What will become of the blind father and or- phaned children if she dies ? " " They will go to the poor farm. I pity them ; for that Bill Day, that has charge, is a tough sub- ject." " She may .not die. Doctors are very often mis- taken. They do not know much more about the secrets of life and death than the rest of us." '» I allow that's true ; for a couple of them give me up for death, a good many years ago; and a pretty fright they give me for nothing." " Were you afraid to die ? " " You may be sure I was. Its very unsartin work, is dying." m fi -u ifc;.-,?i'i»^!»''i*«*»w»»^ii'»" » |<' a i uitrw »r %g i » ' i' r t c *««»».*«. ^- .. 184 MEDOJJNK SEDVYN'S WOIili. w " Mrs. Flaxman luis lent mo tlio lives of somo very good people to reiul. Tlicy were not afraid to die, but looked forward to it, some of them, with delight." " They was the pious sort, that don't make much reckoniu' iu this life, I allow." " I have read the lives of both kinds of people — the good, and those who were not pious. The former .seemed to be the happiest always." " They say Mr. Winthrop is a greiit man — writes fine works and things — but he's not happy. 1 take more good out of Oaklands and the horses than he does. lie seems to sense the flower-gar- dens a good deal. I often find him tliere early of a summer's morning when I go to work, with a bit of paper and a pencil writing away for dear life ; and he don't seem to mind mo any more'n if I was one of the vegetables," I smiled at Thomas' comparisoii ; for now tha.t he mentioned it, ho did seem something like an animated turnip. " I dare say he has far higher pleasures than you or I ever experience. His thoughts are like a rich kingdom to him." " He's had some pretty bitter thoughts, I guess. He got crossed in love once, and its s(»rt of made him dislike Avimmen folks. Maybe you've noticed it yourself? " Thomas gave me a searching look. " I did not know he ever cared for a woman in 'tAm WOlUi. nUMULE ClIARITJEH. 185 tlio lives of somo were not afraid t, soma of them, don't make much cinds of people — not pious. The always." font man — writes I not happy. 1 and the horses the flo\rer-gar- iia tliere early of work, with a bit ay for dear life ; y more'n if I was OM ; for now that mctliing like an easures than you ughts are like a hough ts, I guess, its S(»rt of made 36 you've noticed a searching look, for a woman in his life. I thought he was above such things," I murmured, too astunishcd to think of a proper reply. " There's very few men get up that high, T reckon ; leastuv/ays, I've never sot eyes on them." I turned a quizzical look on Thomas, which he understood — liis face reddened. " I don't claim to be one of the high kind, but I allow Oaklands is better for mo than a wife. I never sot great store by wimnien folks. They're sort of pernicketty cattle to manage ; I'd sooner take to horses ; and if one happens to die, you don't feel so cut up like as if it was a wife. Now there's Dan Blake. Marrying's been enough sight more worryment to him than comfort. I've fig- gured up the pros and cons close, and them that keeps single don't age near as fast as the married ones. There's the widow Larkum, if she'd kept single, she'd have been young and blooming now. Human folks is many of them very poor witted," Thomas concluded, with fine scorn, and then he was silent. My thoughts went off in eager surprise over that strange episode in Mr, Winthrop's life, wondering what sort of a woman it was who had power so to mar his happiness, and why she had not responded to his love, and all the fascinating story that my sense of honor prevented me from finding out from Thomas, or Mrs. Blake, or even Mrs. Flax- !?3« 180 MEDOUNE SELWYN'S WOIiK. i*iv' ' man. Now that I had quiot to think it over, it seemed like desecration to have the stolid, phleg- matic Thomas talk about it. He turned to me abruptly. " Have they never mentioned Mr. Winthrop's trouble to you ? " " No, Thomas, they have not." "Well, that's curious ; but quality has different ways from nateral folks. Well, you see, she was handsomer than any picture; looked as well as you'd think an angel could look, and bettor dressed than they generally seem to be ; for any pictures I've seen of them they've only had a long cloth around thein without cut or pattern, and their wings. I've often tliought they weren't overhandy with the needle. And the day for- the wedding was sot." I stopped liim there. " Would you tell me this if you knew I should repeat all you said to Mr. Winthrop?" "I guess not; he'd turn me off without my dinner, if he knew." "You may be sure I shall not tell him; but nevertheless it is not honest for us to be talking on such a subject." "I see you are like the rest of them. You seemed to have such a fellow feeling for poor folks, we've concluded you were more like us than them." " Perhaps I am, Thomas ; but gentle or simple, we ought to be alike honorable. The Bible has only one code of morals for us all." ^ Ul !' wniiK. think it over, it tlio stolid, phlog- Ilave they never lo to you ? " ivlity has different you see, she was ooked as well as and better dressed ; for any pictures r had a long cloth )attern, and their iveren't overhandy ' for- the wedding ou knew I should lirop?" 8 off without my lot tell him; but »r us to be talking st of them. You ling for poor folks, like us than them." t gentle or simple, e. The Bible has lU." SMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 2.0 2.2 I.I l.-^ll 1.8 1-25 1.4 1 1.6 < 6" ► V ' Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 'i4S80 (716) 873-4503 ?' . ' Si'iW .(''*'Ai;r»J"?v-4i^ n'.?'' S-S^t^i^fS^^tJim- rSBSTTS^SSPPSiK- ;--.:*3^tes^eL^i«BMas«=»"JS!Sa5^???^SSSg«S^Sg«iiP^- .s*' 'i 7i CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 'Hm HUMBLE CHARITIES. 187 " Very few that I know pays much attention to Bible rules. But here we are at the Blakes'. I'll hitch the horse and carry in the bundles since you want them left here. Hang it, if there ain't that ugly critter of Dan's coming for us." Thomas sprang back into the carriage, and looked a good deal alarmed as he saw me turn to meet Tiger and pat the animal's huge head. He fawned delightedly around me, licking my gloved hand whenever he could get the chance. " You need not be afraid, Thomas. I won't let him hurt you." " I won't risk him. He's the crassest brute in Cavendish." " Why, Tiger, what a character to get ! " ' To my surprise the dog looked up at Thomas, and uttered an angry growl. "See, now; I believe the brute understands what I say." " Come with me. Tiger." I started for the house. Tiger stood a moment uncertainly, and then trotted after me. Mrs. Blake's face was radiant when she opened the door in answer to my knock. "You're a thousand times welcome back; and my ! but you're needed." "Tliat is encouraging news. But, Mrs. Blake, won't you hide Tiger away somewhere ? Thomas is afraid of him, and, I think, not without reason." 1 I t^-: !« i" i ;;■« ^-■X^^^n'\'- ':y.C?'^:^^S:'^!!'S^^^ m ill 188 MEDOLINE SELWYS^'S WORK. " I wish't Dairel 'd sell him, he frightens folks from tlie house," she said, with muoh discontent, driving Tiger unceremoniously into the back porch. Thomas soon had the bundles laid on the kitchen table, and the carriage turned homewards, while I began unrolling the prints and flannels, frocks and phiafores, for the Mill Road pensioners. Mrs. Blake watched eagerly; but at last exclaimed: " Dear me ! it must a cost you a mint of money to get all these." " About the price of one evening dress." "I hope you got all the things, then, you needed for yourself." " Yes, and more, I fear, than I really needed. «' But Mrs. Flaxman says we owe it to our position in society to dress becomingly ; but the question to my mind is, how far it is necessary to go to pay that social debt? Wlien I see a family like the Larkums, my conscience tells me I owe them a heavier debt than society." " I can't understand why some people have no conscience, and other so much. It seems to me now you have just a little too much for one of your age." " Please don't you discourage me, Mrs. Blake. I meet too much everywhere else. But for you I might never have given a thought to the poor and needy." Mrs. Blake went to the window and stood look- WORK. le frightens folks muoli discontent, ito the back porch, aid on the kitchen homewards, while id flannels, frocks pensioners. Mrs. t last exclaimed: 1 a mint of money ing dress." 1, then, you needed I I really needed, e it to our position but the question jssary to go to pay ! a family like the mo I owe them a ne people have no . It seems to me 3 much for one of l^ me, Mrs. Blake. .'Ise. But for you lought to the poor ow and stood look- IIUMBLE CHARITIES. 189 ing ont for some time in silence, while I sat with my hand on Tiger's head, whom I had liberated after Tliomas went away. I looked down into the brown eyes that were gazing up at me with dumb affection. " Do you really like me so very much, Tiger ? " I said, stooping down to gratify him with a touch of my face. " I do believe he tliinks more of you than of any- body. I've not seen him look so good-natured since I come here as he does now." I fancied that I saw traces of tears on lier face, and was surprised at it, for she was not the kind of woman constantly bubbling over, and rarely showed the tender side of her nature, save in kindly deeds. Again she began inspecting my goodly array of dry goods with keen interest, inquiring the prices, and passing shrewd comments on the bargains I liad made. " I'm afraid the Larkums won't need your gifts. If they go to the poor-house, it won't be worth while giving tliem anything ; the town '11 provide." "I do not thmk they will go there. Mrs. Larkum will get better, after awliile." "It might do her good to hear you say; so would you mind coming over this morning to see her? I go in every day to see to them." I gatliered up a large bundle of flannels and prints, for herself and children, along with the par- cel containing Mr. Bowen's cloth, while Mrs. i*aiiW(rl..^ v^^ji^g*.;^^ tj^^'^ii^ig.'^'' . 190 MEDOLINE SELWYirS WORK. I'> '^fei If* I l Blake was getting ready. She came to the table, where I stood arranging my parcels. "Are these to go to the widow's now?" she asked. " Yes, if we can carry all at once." " I'll see to that. I've taken many a heavier load a good deal farther." " But I will share the burden with you." " No, it looks better for me to have my arms full than you ; and, anyway, I want to do something to help them, and you too." I humored her fancy, only insisting on relieving her of my present for Mr. Bowen. It was the most precious package in the lot ; and I feared she might drop it. When we reached the door of the Larkum cottage she halted. " You won't like the look of things here to-day. There's only the neighbors to look after them; and the most of us has more'n enough to do home." " If I am such a poor soldier as to be so easily frightened as that, you would be ashamed of me. When they endure it all the time, surely I may for a few minutes." " But you're not used to it." She entered without knocking, when a scene met my gaze that fully equaled Mrs. Blake's warn- ing. The fire was quite out, and I could see no fuel at hand to kindle it, Mr. Bowen sat in the window trying to extract some warmth from the '.(,.i WORK. came to the table, eels. dow's now?" she ice." 1 many a heavier with you." have my arras full ;o do something to listing on relieving wen. It was the ; ; and I feared she ed the door of the things here to-day. look after them ; lough to do home." as to be so easily be ashamed of me. time, surely I may ng, when a scene Mrs. Blake's warn- nd I could see no . Boweii sat in the warmth from the ilUMBLE CUAHITIE8. 191 cTuU, November sunshine ; the baby crying wearily in his iiruis, probably from cold and liunger com- bined ; the other two children hud curled them- selves ii;; in an old rug, their bright eyes watching us with eager longing, the house itself was the picture of desolation. I sliivered under my warm fur cloak, and with dif- ficulty restrained myself from rushing from the place ; but Mrs. Blake, laying down her bundle with a sigh of relief, bade Mr. Bowen good morning in her usual cheerful way ; he responded with equal cheerfulness, still ignorant of my presence there. " You find us a little cold to-day," he said, as if it were the merest accident ; " but wood hsis given out, and the morning seems rather cool," I looked at him in amazement. How could he speak so calmly under the circumstances ? ' " How is Mrs. Larkum, to-day ? " " Pretty low, I am sorry to say. The doctor says she needs beef-tea and wine." " It's easy for doctoi-s to prescribe." " He thinks she might come around if she had proper nourishment. But we are in the Lord'3 hands," he added patiently. " Yes, and I guess the Lord has sent one of His ravens to look after you. Not that Miss Selwyn looks like a raven — she's more likes a lily." "Is Miss Selwyn here?" he asked, turning around eagerly. , 1 192 MEDOLINE SELWrirs WORK. " Yes, I reached home last evening. I am sorry to find you in sucli trouble." " The Lord knows what is best for us. I want nothing but what He wills for me. If pain, and poverty come, they are His evangels, and should I dare to repine ? " "Perhaps He has seen that you are patient under severity, and He may send comfort now." "My Father is rich and wise, therefore I am con- tent ; for I know His kindness is without limit." I looked in his face. A grave, refined expression lent dignity to features already handsome, while there was a serenity one of the Old Masters might have coveted to reproduce on one of their immor- tal pictured faces. " Your daughter shall have all the nourishment the doctor orders after this ; and I believe she will soon be better. The Lord is more pitiful than we are," I said, gently. " God will reward you, my dear friend. Pardon me for calling you such ; but you have indeed been a friend in adversity." " I am glad to be a friend of one who is the friend of God. I esteem it both an honor and privilege." " I pray God you may very soon hold the dearer relation to Hipiself of child, if you are not that already." He turned his face to me with an eager, expectant expression. I WORK. [ling. I am sorry b for us. I want me. If pain, and ^els, and should I you are patient id comfort now." berefore I am con- s without limit." refined expression handsome, while )ld Masters might le of their immor- l the nourishment I believe she will ire pitiful than we ir friend. Pardon I have indeed been i one who is the th an honor and )n hold the dearer you are not that me with an eager, nUMBLE CHARITIES. lO.*? 1 "No, not in the way you spoak of. I am no nearer to Iliiu than I was in childhood. It is only of late I realized the need to be reconciled to Him." " He answers prayer." There was such a ring of joyful faith in his voice I felt convinced there was one praying for mo who had a firm hold on God. I turned to jMis. Blake, who was busying her- self in trying to make a fire. " Where can we get some coals, or do they burn wood ? " I asked. " They sell the waste at the mill pretty cheap for kindlings, but the coal is far cheapest." " Can we get some directly ? " " Yes, with tlie money," she said, grimly. I took out my pnrse — alas, now far from full when would I learn economy ? I gave her two dollars. " Will that buy enough for the present?"! asked anxiously; for I was exceedingly ignorant of household furnishings. " Deary me, yes ; it '11 last for a month or more." I was greatly relieved. By that time a little private venture of my own might be bringing me in some money. I told Mrs. Blake to prehcnt the dry goods as soon as I was out of the house. I fancied they would have an indirect medicinal effect on the sick woman. "I shall go liome immediately and eet Mra 13 194 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WOlilC. 14, Reynolds to make some beef tea. Slie will keep Mrs. Larkum supplied, I am sure, as long as there is need, and I will either bring or send a bottle of wine directly," I said encouragingly to Mr. Bowen, whose face under all circumstances seemed to wear the same expression of perfect peace. " I have not language to express my gratitude, but you do not ask for thanks." The assertion was something in the form of a question. "I have a feeling that you will make me the debtor before long," I murmured softly, and then took my leave. Reynolds entered very heartily into my scheme for relieving Mrs. Larkum, and Mrs. Flaxman, always eager to help others when once her attention was aroused, packed a generous hamper of wine and preserves, fresh eggs and prints of delicious Alderney butter, and fresh fruits, with more solid provisions, and sent them around by the uncomplaining Thomas, at an hour that suited his convenience. Cook also gave me a good basket full of cooked provisions ; so I set out with Thomas very well provided for at least a week's siege. I found Mrs. Blake still at the Larkums. She had been in the mean time very busy getting them made comfortable; and while so doing had taken minute stock of their ways and means. " I had no idea they was so bad off," she assured me in whispered consultation. " There was the barrel of flour she got with the money you o I. Slie will keep , as long as there r send a bottle of fly to Mr. Bowen, inces seemed to jct peace. iss my gi-atitudo, " The assertion uestion. ,f;ll make me the I softly, and then red very heartily Larkum, and Mrs. others when once eked, a generous , fresh eggs and jutter, and fresh IS, and sent them tiomas, at an hour ok also gave me a sions; so I set out ed for at least a lake still at the e mean time very rtable; and while : of their ways and as so bad off," she ultation. " There ith the money you BUMBLE CHAltlTIES. 195 give her, and not another airthly thing in the bouse to eat but some salt and about a peck of potatoes." " Did Mr. Bowen know this morning there was so little?" " Sartinly ; but I believe he'd starve afore he'd let on ; he kinder looks to the Lord for his j)ervi- sions, and he thinks it's a poor sort of faith to ask human beings. I think he's most too good for such a forgetting world as this is.'' "The Lord has provided abundantly to-day, Mrs. Blake." " I won't allow but somebody has. Maybe the Lord put it in your heart, I can't say for sartin. It's a curious mixed up world, and we don't know where men leaves off and the Lord begins ; but that blind man is a Christian, and if there is such a thing as religion he's got it and no mistake." As 1 looked around at the changed appearance of eveiything about me I concluded Mrs. Blake did the work of the Christian, even if she made no profession. The house had been scrubbed, the stove nicely polished, and the children's faces shone with the combined effects of soap and water and the good cheer that was being provided. Mr. Bowen was sitting back, as if afraid of absorbing too much of the heat, rocking the cradle and singing in a rich, low voice one of the most beautiful hymns I ever heard, the look of peace hi ;.!' "Mt' 196 MEDOUNE 8 EL wry a WORK. that came from some unseen source still lighting his face. Witli Mrs. Bhvke's assistance, and with occasional exclamations of delight, on her part I unpacked the hamper and then 1 took a little wine and a bunch of grapes in to Mrs. Larkum. I was shocked at the change a few weeks had made in lier appearance. Slie saw the pained look in my face and her own countenance fell. ♦' Mrs. Bhike told me you seemed sure I would get better. Do you think no\V there is no hope ? " she usked pitifully. " I shall not give you up until we try the effect of these," I said cheerfully, putting the cup that con- tained the wine to her lips and laying the grapes in her hand. She took a sip or two and then put the cup aside. "I have eaten so little for several days you would soon make me intoxicated with that rich wine. I never tasted any like it," she said, with a pitiful attempt at a smile. I got out a slice of cook's home-made bread, and toasting it before the fire, with Mrs. Blake's help, we soon had a dainty lunch prepared for lier with jelly, and a cup of tea with real cream, an unknown delicacy in her cot- tage, floating on the top. I carried it and watched while she ate it all. " Perhaps it may kill me," she said, plaintively, " but I believe I am more hungry than sick. This cold cut me right down, and I had nothing to tempt my appetite." " I believe Miss Selwyn is one of them wonder- i WORK. irce still lighting listauce, and with ht, on her part I took a httle wiiio Larkuni. I was eks liad niado in lained look in my 11. med sure I would lere is no hope ? " ve try the effect of the cup that con- laying the grapes two and then put little for several oxicated with that e it," she said, with got out a slice of isting it before the soon had a dainty f, and a cup of tea elicacy in her cot- ied it and watched 3 it may kill me," elieve I am more ut me right down, appetite." le of them wonder- BUMBLE CUAIilTIEa. 197 ful people what lias tlie gift of healing. I've hoard tell of 'em, but I never seen one," Mis. Blake said, regarding me at the same time very seriously. " I shouldn't wonder," Mrs. Larkuni responded calmly. "I made up my mind only this morning it was useless for me to expect to get round again ; and I was nearly heartbroken tliiiiking of poor father and the cliildren going on the parish." " A nice new frock, and good vittels ain't bad medsin for poor folks sometimes," Mrs. Blake said dryly. "That ia true; but I was feeling very low and weak," Mra. Larkum said, apologetically. "We all know that, and more'u yourself was afraid it might go hard with you." " So we have decided that it was the food and clothes that have wrouglit the miracle, and not any unusual healing virtues in me," I said, quite re- lieved ; for the change wrought was so sudden and great, I began to feel uneasy lest I might be pos- sessed unconsciously of some mysterious power. Mrs. Larkum smiled gently. " I am not sure of that. I find you always make me happier whenever I see you. I seem to get a fresh hold on hope, as if there might yet be something in store for us." " I understand why you feel that way. I am glad it is no mere inexplicable experience." I went into the kitchen thinking to give Mr. Bowen and the children a few of the surplus dainties. t, 'I k J s g1 »' 198 MKDOLINE SELWYN'H WOIiJC. He had ceased singing, but was sitting witlx up- lifted face, as if in deep communion with God ; his lips moved, but no sound escaped. The eldest boy seeing me hesitate came to my side and whispered softly. " Mother says we are not to speak when grandfather looks like that — cos he's praying." I stood holding the child's hand, an indescribable sensation stealing over me while I stood gazing into the rapt, sightless face. Never before in great cathedral, or humble church, had I felt the awful presence of God as at that moment. A strange trembling seized me, and, involuntarily I turned my head away, as if I were gazing too boldly upon holy things. I was re- minded of the ancient high priest of the Jewish religion who, once a year, took his life in his hand, and went into the Holy of Holies, to gaze on the Divine token. The child, too, stood silently with bated breath, perhaps more deeply impressed than his wont at seeing my emotion. After awhile ho pulled my hand gently and then motioned for me to stoop down to him. I did so. " Grandad prays every day for you. I hear him myself." He looked up into my face with a curious expression of importance at having such a secret to tell, and surprise that I should need his grand- father's prayers. f " WOIiK. IS sitting witli up- lou with God ; his iitate came to my other says we are oks like tliat — cos le child's hand, an over me while I Bss face. gdral, or humble sence of God as at iig seized me, and, iway, as if I were liings. I was re- ;st of the Jewish is life in his hand, s, to gaze on the ;vith bated breath, than his wont at ile ho pulled my I for me to stoop :' you. I hear him face witli a curious ing such a secret d need his grand- UUMliLE CHARITIES. m A sharp knoclc at the door broke the spell that was holding us in such holy quiet. Mrs. Blake hastened to open it, when a strange- ly familiar v 'ice sounded on my ear. There was a hearty ring of welcome in her voice as she bade him welcome. « Come right in ; you'll find things better 'n you migVxt expect." I turned to see who was coming. A swift and kindly look of recognition in the deep, blue eyes took me back to my first experience of Cavendish; and an instant after I recollected, with a good deal of satisfaction, that it was the Rev. Mr. Lathrop, whom I first saw at Mrs. Daniel Blake's funeral. He extended his hand with such hearty cordiality that I gave him mine in return with a good bit of my heart along with it. " I am glad to see you here." It was not so much in the v/ords themselves as the way he spoke them, that such welcome meaning was conveyed. " Indeed, you may be," Mrs. Blake responded. I saw Mr. Bowen eagerly waiting to speak to his minister, and even the children were edging up to kirn with expectant faces. " He always brings us apples," my little lad explained to me in a whisper. With entire change of voice he turned to Mr. Bowen and said :— " How fares it with you, brother, in the darkness ? " ♦' Well, all is well," 200 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. In low, sympathetic tones lie asked: — " He still provides songs in the night ? " " Yes, almost us sweet as if Heaven itself were stooping to heur." " You have learned the secret God reveals to but few of us." " Ah, brother, the fault is all in us, not in Him. Gracious as he is to me, all might share with me in tliis blessed inheritance." Mr. Lathrop turned to me. " Our friend here certainly has meat to eat of which very few get the full taste." " I did not know there could be such joy in religion. It is a revelation to me, sir." " Yes, we go out of our way to help othera, not expecting to bo repaid, and sometimes one of God's angels meets us in human guise, and brings us a blessing compared with which our poor gift sinks into insignificance." He spoke to me in a low tone. Mr. Bowen could not hear; indeed he seemed never to notice conversation not addressed to him personally. I fancied tliat his own thoughts were more agreeable than average conversation. I stood uncertainly, longing to remain to hear more of the conversation passing between these two men, but afraid I might thereby violate some unwritten social code. I knew very httle of the relation between pastor and people at that time, especially in America. >.•;;■.*- WORK. sked:— "He still saven itself were b God reveals to II us, not in Him. it share with me Our friend here ch very few get be such joy in , sir." help othci-s, not mes one of God's and brings us a r poor gift sinks to me in a low hear ; indeed he on not addressed his own thoughts ge conversation, remain to hear J between tiiese }by violate some ^ery little of the jle at that time, HUMBLE CHARITIES. 201 Mrs. Blake possibly read my face. She came to me find said : — " Won't you stay to prayers ? I guess most all the churches'U listen to each other reading the Scripters and praying. I know they'd take it as a favor." Slie tried to speak softly but Mre. Blake's voice had not been trained to fine modulations, and I felt certain Mr. Lathrop over- heard her remark. " I would like to stay if I am not intruding." " I guess the best of Christians never reckon folks in the way when they're praying together, though I shouldn't say much about them, not being one myself," she said, dryly. I sat down quite near to Mr. Bowen. I wanted to study his face, and as I listened in silence, the conversation between the pastor and this member of his flock was a new and beautiful revelation to me. The one seemed to help the othei", while no stain of worldliness marred the even flow of their words. After awhile Mrs. Blake handed the min- ister a well-worn Bible. He opened it and turned the leaves thoughtfully, pausing at last at the 103d Psalm. I looked at Mr. Bowen while Mr. Lath- rop was reading. His lips were softly moving as if in responsive worship, the expression of his face like a thanksgiving Psalm. A moment's pause in tl)e reading while the leaves were turned, and then the lesson was chosen from the 17th of St. John's Gospel and selections from :'<, n 202 MEDOLINE SELWYirs WORK. .Si lilt the ten last chapters of Revelation. I fancied that in the pause between his reading the minister was asking to be directed to the right psissages. Every verse seemed to bring its own special consolation, and I was almost as much impressed with the look on Mr. Bowen's face at last, as by the words that fell on my ears. It reminded me of the faces the Old Masters have left us of tlie saints and martyrs of the early church. Perhaps they took their models from just such men as Mr. Bowen, whom God had left in the furnace until his own imago was reflected in them. But my deepest emotions were stirred when, kneeling with the rest, I listened to Mr. Lathrop's prayer. As I listened, I had no longer any doubt as to the future well-being of this family ; but, wlien just at the close of his prayer, my name was mentioned, and the fulfillment asked for the promise given by Christ, that even a cup of cold water given in his name should be rewarded, a strange sense of awe came over me. Was it possible I had been giv- ing direct to Christ — visiting His sick, and poor, and sorrowing, and making Him glad ? My eyes filled with tears, and a deep longing took pos- session of my heart fo know this mighty Friend who d"ed for me, in the same real, blessed way that these men knew, and loved Him. There were few words spoken after the prayer was ended. The place seemed holy ground ■ and, shortly after, Mr, >i If ,i»)1- WORK. n. I fancied that the minister was piissages. Every eciul consohition, sed with tlie look y the words that e of the faces tlie aints and martyrs they took their [r. Bowen, whom il his own image deepest emotions the rest, I listened ■ any doubt as to Ij' ; but, wlien just le was mentioned, promise given by 'ater given in his ige sense of awe I I had been giv- is sick, and poor, I glad ? My eyes onging took pos- lis mighty Friend 1, blessed way that There were few was ended. The shortly after, Mr, HUMBLE CUAIilTIES. 203 Lathrop left, first going to the little lad who had given me his whispered confidence, and dropped a few silver coins in his chubby fist. lie stood regard- ing the money complacently until the door had closed on the minister, and tlien, going to his grand- father, he showed, with great glee, his store of money. " We will liave everything now that wo want, won't we, grandfather?" lie questioned, placing the money in his grandfather's lianda. " We will always have what is best for us, Fred- die ; but you must never take the minister's money again. You should give to him, instead of taking from him." " So I must," Freddie responded, rather sorrow- fully ; " but may I take his apples ? " " Well, yes ; you may do that, and, some day, when you are a big boy, and earning money, you can buy him a whole barrel full." " I might keep a few of them ? " Freddie ques- tioned, such extreme generosity overpowering hia imagination. " We will see when the time comes." ]\Irs. Blake beckoned me to her side, at the fur- ther end of the room. "I didn't give liim these ; I put 'em out of sight till you'd come." "But I wanted him to get them while I was away." ~::«.",:^.'''>°fl=r--"-' 204 MEDOLINE SEDVYN'S WOIiK. i»r »' Yes, I know ; but it'll be easier to tliivnk you right off, when lie's surprised. My ! he'd soon have been able to fly ; his clothes is that ragged." " Yes, they are very poor ; but, some way, one don't see much but his face. I forget that he is poor and ragged when I look at him." " We're not all so blind as that. I'm going now to tell him." " Mr. Bowen, you'll think it never rains but it pours. I've another surprise for you." " What is it ? " He turned his face in the direc- tion of her voice. " Miss Selwyn got you the finest piece of cloth I've sot eyes on this many a day, to make you a new suit of clothes. Just feel of that, now." He stroked it softly for a moment, and then turned his flushed face to me. " You will bank- rupt us witii your generosity. Miss Sehvyn. But God will pay you. He is rich and wise." " You are paying me, too, Mr. Boweu. Prayers are better than gold." He said nothing, but took up a fold of the cloth and stroked it, I thought, lovingly. " I need no longer envy the swallows who build their nests in the eaves of the Lord's house. How my soul will rejoice to meet once more with His people ! ' Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all His benefits.' " For a moment he seemed to forget our presence. ^1*. WOIiK. er to tliivnk you My ! he'd soon is that r.agged." t, some way, one •orget that he is lim." , I'm going now Bver rains but it you." i face in the direc- !st piece of cloth make you a new ;, now." loment, and then "You will bank- iss Selwyn. But id wise." Boweu. Prayers 1 fold of the cloth rallows who build :d's house. How e more with His r soul, and forget rget our presence. HUMBLE CHARITIES. 206 Mrs. Blake, always practical, brought us all down to earth again by suggesting that we get the suit made tvs soon as possible. " If the tailor will cut it for us, a few of us women folk will come in and make it right off, so's he can get to meeting. Dan'el '11 be glad to come and take him there every Sunday." "I could lead grandfather," little Fred stoutly asserted. " I've been past there lots of times." " Are women as good tailors as men ? " I asked, doubtfully. " I reckon not ; but they're enough sight cheaper, especially when they work for nothing. Tailors is awful dear." " I Avant the clothes to look nicely. I will pay the tailor." " We can make the vest and pants well enough if he cuts 'em and makes the coat. S'pose we call and see him on our way home ? " I complied with her request, and found the tail- or's establishment a very humble affair on the Mill Road. Mrs. Blake negotiated with him entirely, but he always directed his remarks to me. "If I hadn't a family of my own to support these hard times, I'd do it for nothing," he assured me, over and over ; " but I'll do it for half price. My time, you know, is all the money I have, and one must look out first for their own." I found he was a prosy, weak-minded creature. \\'4 ■'t'liU; i'.'j't 7 y '^'i /^.V^-^1 V- *^! ^^ ^^"^ "■ I- lUii m MEDOLINS SELWYirS WORK. who, although time was so precious, would have stood talking to mo of its great value by the hour, if I had patience to listen. I thanked him for his offer, but assured him I would pay his usual price for the work. Mrs. Blake, however, stipulated that she and her neighbors would relieve him of all but the coat, and I could see he was not pleased with her interference. This matter settled, I hast- ened home, very uncertain how Mr. Winthrop would regard so much of my time being spent on the Mill Road, if he should discover I had been there twice that day. When I got home Mrs. Flaxman told me he had asked for me each time that I was there, but he did not say anything to me. I Pi m VOtlK. 0U3, would have line by the hour, liked him for his Y hia usual price rever, stipulated relieve him of all I was not pleased er settled, I hast- T Mr. Winthrop le being spent on jover I had been got home Mrs. [or me each time say anything to CHAPTER XV. A PLEASANT SURPRISE. " It would do you good to come to our meeting some Sunday, just to see Mr. Bowen's face," Mrs. Blake remarked to me one day, some time after the tailor, and women folk had completed very satis- factorily their work. " I would like to go for other reasons than that. One is to hear your minister pray once more, and also to hear him preach." " Can't you come next Sunday morning? " "Our service is at the same hour. I do not think Mr. Winthrop would like me to leave our own church. He is very particular abou . oh things." " I don't see why he should ; for he don't set much store by religion." " He may give me permission to come some time." " I wish he would come too. Our meetings are :^!l 208 3£ED0LINE SELWTN'S WORK. 80 good now. Daniel has perfessed religion." She spoke in such subdued fashion I looked at her in surprise, thinking she might soon follow his example. I think she was waiting for me to say something ; but I felt myself so ignorant on this great subject, I knew not what to say. " I've wished often of late that I'd never been born. Where I'm to go to once the breath leaves my body, is an awful thought." She burst into a fit of bitter weeping that frightened me. " Christ is very merciful," I faltered, not know- ing what to say. " I've read that and heard it many a time ; but we've been such a heathenish lot, I'm afraid He's left us to ourselves." "If He has remembered Daniel, that should encourage you.' "He's not lived without thinking of Him as many years as I have." She sat with bowed head, quietly weeping, the picture of despair. I touched the hard, wrinkled hand that had so often generously ministered to the wants of others. "Have you asked Christ to forgive you? " "Asked Him?" she sobbed, " I've been crying day and night for weeks ; but I'm only getting further away all the time." " Does your son, or Mr. Lathrop know ? " " I reckon tliey don't. I was ashamed for any ■ ("ji^.*;.';,'!,.!..! WORK. rfessed veligiop." ion I looked at her soon follow his ng for me to say i ignorant on this say. lat I'd never been the breath leaves She burst into a ned rae. altered, not know- many a time ; but ot, I'm afraid He's aniel, that should inking of Him as lietly weeping, the ;he hard, wrinkled )usly ministered to jrgiveyou?" " I've been crying t I'm only getting irop know ? " s ashamed for any A PLEASANT SURPRISE. 209 one to know; but 1 couldn't help telling you." "1 tliiiik it is because you are ashamed that Christ don't bless you." "I've felt 1 ought to get up and tell them in meeting what a sinner I've been ; but I've always prided myself on being as good astlieni that's made a perfession,and they all know what a liard, proud wretch I am. I expect they'd say I was a hypo- crite." " I think if you confessed to your church what you have just told me, and asked them to pray for you, God would make you His child. It seems to me any petition Mr. Lathrop and Mr. Bowen would dare to present would be received and granted." "It's liard on flesh and blood," she moaned. I saw she was in deep distress and could not under- stand why she was unwilling to make the confes- sion that mjorht bring peace. " I wish I'd tended to tliis when I was young and my heart was easier mude new. It's next to impossible to make a crooked old tree turn and grow straight." " With God nothing is impossible," I whispered encouragingly. " Yes, the minister said that last night, and looked straight at me. Maybe he saw trouble in my face, and wanted to help me in spite of my- self." She grew calmer at last. " Now 1 won't 14 lir 210 MBDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. worry you any longer, and I believe I feel better for telling you. I mean to tell them to-night what a proud, stubborn wretch I've been, and ask them to pray for me." She got up and put on her shawl with a resolute air as if her mind was fully made up, no matter how hard the task might be. "We'll step in and see the Larkums. YouU hardly know them now, they're so perked up and tidy. Deary me 1 how far a little help.goes some- times when folks have a mind to help theirselves. On our way she said, with matter-of-fact calm- ness, at the same time setting my blood thriUing through my veins: " I want you to talk with the doctor. I just seen him going to.see Mrs. Lar- kum, and that's what made me hurry you off so soon from my place." u .9.. t "What do you want me to talk about ^ 1 naked, with some surprise. "Well, he was looking at Mr. Bowen s eyes the other day, and he says they can cure him up in New York, so he'll see just as well as ever. I stood perfectly still in the road, my surprise and gladness making me forgetful of everything. "Can this be really true? " I gasped. "It's a fact; he told mo so himself the last time he was there, all about it. I can't just mind all the long words, 'twould take a dictionary to follow him ; but the long and the short of it is that \ WORK. ieve I feel better lem to-night what len, and ask them ,vl with a resolute ide up, no matter Larkums. You'll ■to perked up and le help. goes some- 1 help theirselves." atter-of-fact calra- my blood thrilling I to talk with the r to . see Mrs. Lar- hurry you off so ■i talk about?" I . Bowen's eyes the n cure him up in veil as ever." 3 road, my surprise itful of everything, asped. himself the last I can't just mind ke a dictionary to lie short of it is that A PLEASANT 8URI'UI8E. »1 he can go into a big hospital, mostly for such things ; and there's a great doctor there '11 do it for nothing, provided Mr. iiowen lets a lot of stu- dents conjo and wiitcli. I guess that's the way the doctors gets their pay from poor folks; and then, if they die, they have their bodies to cut and hack into. But Mr. Bt)wen says tiic}' may briiig all the people in the city if they want to. He don't mind hew many looks at him while they're fixing his eyes." "When will he go?" " I'm afraid that depends on you. We told the doctor so, and he asked what made a young lady like you set such store by them ? " " What reply did you give ? " " Oh, Mr. Bowen answered for us. He said 'twas because you were one of the Lord's children or was soon going to be ; and one of them rare ones we read of in books." " Mr. Bowen is too partial to be a correct judge, I am afraid." " Well, the doctor kind of thought you'd find it pretty hard to be much of a Christian at Oaklands ; but Mr. Bowen said, not any harder than them folks what had their heads out off and were burnt for their r'l'gion." " Not any harder," I said, more to myself than to Mrs. Blake, but ah I how hard it might be, only God could know. \ 212 MEDOLINE SELWTirS WORK. « But we must plan about Mr. Bowen. Will it cost very, very much ? " " My, no ; he's got a good suit of clothes, and that's the most that's wanted. His fare from here to New York and back '11 be the heft of the ex- pense." " If that is all, he shall go to-morrow. 1 have more than enough money on hand for that, and a good deal of incidental expense beside." " I reckon he'll pay you all back ; for he was a prime book-keeper before he lost his eyesight. He's a good scholar, too, and got a first-rate salary." . , , . ., " Then he will leave me deeper in debt than ever." " What for ? " she asked curiously. " Many things— his prayers most of all. Les- sons of p;. nee and faith, too, that money never could buy." , , ,, t She remained silent until we reached Mrs. Lar- kum's. We found the doctor there. He was an old acquaintance. I had met him at a good many evening parties, and at a garden-party or two, where he had several times been my partner in lawn tennis, and an excellent partner I h-d found him, making up for any lack of skill on my part. His greeting was exceedingly cordial, and m a blunt way he plunged right into the business in •UM: ' fVORR. Bowen. Will it of clothes, and is fare from here 3 heft of the ex- morrow. I have id for that, and a leside." ,ck ; for he was a ost his eyesight. I got a first-rate sper in debt than )usly. nost of all. Les- that money never reached Mrs. Lar- liere. He was an im at a good many den-pavty or two, jen my partner in artner I h<\d found k of skill on my y cordial, and in a nto the business in A PLEASANT SURPRISE. 213 hand. " We are very glad to see you ; we have some grave advice to ask." " I feel quite elated at making one in a medical consultation," I said with a smile. " I am not sure if you have not done more to restore health in this house than I. The world is too slow recognizing other healers than those em- braced by the medical faculties." "It's my opinion doctors knows less than one thinks of folks' insides. They're as apt to make mistakes about people dying or getting well as any of us. I don't put near as much faith in 'em as the common run of folks," Mrs. Blake said with delicious candor. " Really, I thought you had a better opinion of us as a profession than that. If you get sick, you will of course dispense with our services." Mrs. Blake looked perplexed, but after a mo- ment's hesitation she said,: *' If I was sick I'd want to see a doctor just as much as anybody. Their medicine is all right; for God made that. It's their judgment that's so onreliable." "And who is to blame for their judgment?" the doctor asked mischievously. She hesitated, but her mother wit soon extri- cated her from the difficulty. "There's lots of folks doing what the Lord didn't intend them to do — doctors as well as others." 214 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. " Well done, Mrs. Blake, I will retire from the field before I am annihilated altogethei." " You needn't be in a hurry to go. We'd like to get this business settled first," Mrs. Bhike said, a trifle anxiously, misunderstanding the doctor's meaning. He threw me a meaning glance, and afterward whispered, — " That woman is a dia- mond in the rough. Given a fair start in life, she would have found a proper sphere in almost any calling." " I believe she would. She has done more for me than any other single individual." "She 1 " he asked w ith keen surprise. " Yes, she wakened me from selfish ease to see the sufferings of others, and to realize my sister- hood to them." " Yes, but you must first have had a heart to be touched, or all the Mrs. Blakes en this planet could not have wakened it." " Even allowing your words to be true, does it not show power amounting very nearly to genius to be able to arouse another to a painful duty, and help them to take hold of it — I won't say, man- fully?" "No, a better word is needed in this case. Woman's fine sympathy and instinct are too per- fect to be called after any masculine term wholly human." " You can pay nice compliments," I said, laugh- retire from the jthei." go. We'd like Irs. Blake said, ng the doctor's ng glance, and )inan is a dia- ,ir start in life, phere in almost done more for il." prise. »lfish ease to see lalize ray sister- 3 had a heart to ;s en this planet he true, does it nearly to genius ainful duty, and von't say, man- id in this case, inct are too per- ne term wholly J," I said, laugh- A PLEASANT SURPRISE. 216 ing. He bowed his head gravely — a very fine and shapely head I noticed it was too, set well on a neck and shoulders that betokened the trained athlete. "Now, doctor. Miss Selwyn can't generally stay loitering very long among us Mill Roaders, and p'raps we'd better get our business done up right away. Anyway if Mr. Bowen is anything like me, he's getting fidgetty by this time to know if he's likely to get to them big city doctors." " I have grown too intimate with patience to be so easily disturbed," he said, gently. "You would like to get your sight?" I ques- tioned. He spoke so calmly, the thought occurred he might have grown to love the hush of dark- ness. His face flushed. I never knew before or since a person of his years who colored so easily. " Only God can know how I have longed to see the light, and the face of my fellow man ; but I had no hope until Death opened my eyes." His voice trembled with emotion. " What a privilege to give that man his sight," I murmured to the doctor. " The privilege belongs to you, I believe." " Oh, no indeed. I was thinking of the skill of your profession. It seems almost Godlike." " We do our work mainly for money. In this case I am told you supply that." Mrs. Blakfc was waiting impatiently. 216 MEDOLINE HELWYN'S WORK. " What is to be done ? Can Mr. Bowen go im- mediately ? " I asked. "To-morrow, if he is ready. I have already written to the doctor who will take charge of his case. He is famous for diseases of the eye, especi- ally cataract, wliich is the trouble here." " He will need some one to accompany him ? " I asked anxiously. " This seemed the chief dif- ficulty now. "Not necessarily. The conductor is a kind- hearted fellow, and would see to him. But a friend of mine is going to-morrow, and he will not leave him until ho sees him safe in the hospital." " Could he be ready so soon ? " I turned with my question to Mrs. Blake. "I've got everything ready only just to pack in a valise — tine shirts and all, we've sat up till after midnight making fine shirts and things, me and two other women." " And you dare to say after that that it is I who must have the credit of this ? " I turned a look of reproach on the doctor, as I spoke the words so low, only he could hear them. "Am I really going to-morrow?" — Mr. Bowen asked, his face turning deathly pale, — " possibly to come back to see all your faces ? Miss Selwyn, I hope you will look to me as I have always pictured you." ! WOBK. yjii: Bowen go im- I havo already ako charge of his of the eye, especi- t! here." cconipany him ? " led the chief dif- luctor is a kind- liim. But a friend lie will not leave hospital." " I turned with ly jost to pack in ^e sat up till after hings, me and two •vt that it is I who I turned a look poke the words so tv?" — Mr. Bowen lie, — " possibly to Miss Selwyn, I re always pictured T A PLEASANT HUIiPRISE. 217 " I think she will not disappoint your expecta- tions," the doctor said, gallantly. " I dunno about that. I guess he most looks to see an angel," Mrs. Blake remarked dryly. In the ripple of laughter that followed, I turned to little Freddie who was crying softly with his face hidden in a chair. " What is the matter, my little man ? " "Why you see. Miss Selwyn, Grandad's going away, and they're going to put a sharp knife in his eyes ; and maybe he will die." He burst into a louder fit of weeping. His mother drew him hastily into her bedroom and shut the door — ^her own face pale, and almost as sorrowful as the little lad's. *' You must tell them there is no danger, doctor." I followed Mrs. Larkum into her room and found that she shared Freddie's fears and grief. "There is not the slightest danger to life or health in the operation," I assured her, when her countenance began to brighten. *' You see we've had so much misfortune I can't sense that father may get his sight, and we be com- fortable as we used to be." "You must have faith in God. The darkest time has been with you ' the hour before the dawn. ' Now I will give you money for present necessities for your father. If more is required, it will be pro- vided when necessary." I took out my purse which, .:4 : ' •ji' ft fc»lf 218 MEDOHNE SELWYN'S WORK. T now tliat I was earning money of ray own, I car- ried about with me quite recklessly, and gave her ten crisp notes that would buy her father a good many necessaries, beside his car fare. Slie did not try to thank me but her look was enough to as- sure me she appreciated my efforts for their well- being. That evening, as I sat chatting by the dining- room fire with Mrs. Flaxman, waiting for the dinner-bell to ring, I told her of the beautiful surprise I had met that day, and how I had given them the money for him to start the following morning in search of sight. " Why, where did you get the money ? I thought you spent every cent except your weekly allowance when we were in New York." I hesitated, flushing rather guiltily ; for this was the first real secret of my life. " You have not been selling your jewelry, I hope," she said, quite sternly. "Mr. Winthrop would not easily forgive such an act, after you had been entrusted with it too." "I have not sold anything that belonged to anyone but myself." She looked at me closely, and my eyes fell before her gaze. "It is not idle curiosity, believe me, Medoline, that makes me so insistent. I wish you would explain how you got the money. You are unacquainted with the habits of this country, an^ 1_ WOliK. ; ray own, I ear- ly, and gave her ler father a good ire. Slie did not as enough to as- ts for their well- g by the dining- waiting for the of the beautiful how I had given iTt the following loney ? I thought veekly allowance tily ; for this was your jewelry, I "Mr. Winthrop lot, after you had ;hat belonged to ay eyes fell before )8ity, believe me, tent. I wish you money. You are this oountry, anc| A PLEASANT SUlt PRISE. 219 may have been unwittingly led into some indis- cretion." " What I have done is a very common thing in Europe even among the best of people." " Do you mean selling your cast-off garments ? " " Why, Mrs. Flaxman, you have as poor an opinion of me as Mr. Winthrop. I wonder what is the reason my friends have so little confidence in me ? " I said, despairingly. " But, dear, there is some mystery ; and young ladies, outside of tragic stories, are expected to live lives of crystal clearness." " I will tell you, for fear you imagine I have done some terrible thing. When we were in New York, I hunted up a picture-dealer and submitted a number of my sketches, that I had hidden away in my trunk, to him, and he consented to act as my agent. For one good sized painting of Oaklands he has given me fifty dollars. Perhaps that Mr. Bovyer bought it, I have felt afraid that he did ; but any way the money will do good ; be the indirect means of giving sight to one of Christ's own followers. All the afternoon, like the refrain of some beautiful melody, those words have been sounding in my ears : ' Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me,' " Over my burning cheeks a few bitter tears were falling, while a mad desire seized me to leave Oaklands, and the 220 MEDOLINE SELWry\S WOliK. cold, selfish life it imposed, and try in some purer air to live as conscieuco urged. I walked to tlie farthest end of the long room without waiting for Mrs. Flaxraan's reply, and stood looking out into the bright moonlit air. Far away 1 could see the moonbeams dimpling on the waters, making a long, shinunering [)athway to the distant horizon, while in tlie frosty sky a few bold stars were shining, scarce dimmed by the moon's brightness. The thought came to me that, in a few weeks, Mr. Bowen might be thrilled by just such a vision of delight. I turned abruptly to tell Mrs. Flaxman I could never go back to the old life of selfish ease, when such opportunities for helpfulness were given me, when I met her face to face. She gave me a look I will never forget. "Medoline, can you forgive me those unjust suspicions ? " " Yes, if you won't interfere with my picture selling," I said joyously. " Hush ! Mr. Winthrop may hear you. I think he is coming. But you may sell all the pictures you can, only don't speak of it now." Mr. Winthrop was waiting for us. Ashe looked at me he said : — " You seem to have more mental sunshine than your share — your face is so bright. Possibly you have been having a specially happy season with your bereaved ones." ' I '!«« '-t .... WOliK. try ill some purer I walked to the without waiting I stood looking fvir. Far away 1 ig on the waters, vay to the distant a few bold stars by the moon's to me that, in a e thrilled by just irned abruptly to JO back to the old opportunities for rhen I met her look I will never me those unjust with my picture ear you. I think ill all the pictures aw." us. Ashe looked have more mental face is so bright. a specially happy ! A PLEASANT STTRPRISS. 221 ''With one of them I have been more than happy." "May I ask the name of this favornd individ- ual?" " It is Mr. Bowen, the blind man.'' " Ah, then, you are finding the widowers most congenial. They do not dissolve into tears so readily as the widows ; and there may be other fascinations. Really, I sliall be compelled to forbid such intimacies." " He is going to New York to-morrow morn- ing, with the expectation of having his sight restored, after being blind nearly twelve years." " I presume he is very poor, else you would not take such strong interest in him." " He has no money. In other respects he is the richest person I ever knew." " Ah, he is a most remarkable individual. However, I dare say a little money will not come amiss to him, notwithstanding his wealth. You will want another quarter's instalment." " Is my quarter up ? " I caught Mrs. Flaxman's warning look, and spoke rather guiltily. " Not quite, but this is a peculiarly urgent case. Probably he is wholly dependent on your bounty." " Doctor Mackenzie told me that the doctor in New York won't charge anything for removing the cataract from his eyes." " I see you have gone about it, in a very business' t i 222 MEDOLINE 8ELWrN'8 WORK. )M '^MI like manner. Does MacKenzie charge for hia advice?" "Why, no, indeed; surely all men are not heartless." " In money mattei-s they arc, more or less ; possibly widowers should be excepted." " It is a pity some others sliould not lose a wife or two. A few might require to lose half a dozen, at least." *' That would be cruel. Think what an upset- ting of one's plans and business arrangements generally that would entail." " It might prove an excellent discipline. Noth- ing short of an earthquake, I believe, would teach some men kindliness and their brotherhood with pain." He received my remark with such unruffled serenity that I was angry with myself for engaging in a wordy warfare with him, when he was sure to be victorious. He sat with us for a short time after dinner, chatting so graciously that I came to the conclusion he was not, after all, so out of sym- pathy with my litle benevolent projects as his words often implied. When he rose to go he came to me, and, taking out his pocket-book counted out fifty dollars and laid them in my hand. He paused a moment with the pocket-book still open. " This is a special case, little one," he said, kindly. kiiiv^ a WORK. ,ie charge for hia all men are not are, more or less ; cepted." )uld not lose a wife lose half a dozen, nk what an upset- ne»s arrangements t discipline. Noth- elieve, would teach r brotherhood with ith such unruffled myself for engaging vhen he was sure to 3 for a short time usly that I came to r all, so out of sym- mt projects as his he rose to go he )ocket-book counted 1 in my hand. He jket-book still open. >ne," he said, kindly. II A PLEASANT SURPRISK. 223 "May I be permitted to contribute something for your friend ? " He laid another note in my hand, but I did not wait to see the amount. I started to my feet impulsively, " Oh, Mr. Winthrop, I must confess to you. I have not been real honest. Won't you forgive me?" I felt the tears rush to my eyes, and my lips quivered like some frightened child's, making me feel sadly ashamed of myself. He looked startled. " "What is it, Madoline? " " I earned the money myself. I have been sell- ing pictures." " Is that the worst offense you have to confess?" he asked, with a keen look into my upturned face. " It is the worst just now," I faltered. "Very well, then, I will forgive you; but I must stipulate to see your pictures before they go to market after this, and also that you consult with me first before launching into other business en- terprises. You might be tempted with something not quite so suitable for a young lady as picture- selling." " You are so kind to me, Mr. Winthrop, I will tell you everything after this." " No rash promises, please. Before the winter is over you will be plunged into tears and distress again over some fresh exploit." Jl ^h 22i MEtoOLmS SELWYirS WOliK. "I won't mind a few tears if I get your forgWe- ness in the end." He went directly to liis study, leaving Mrs. Flaxman and myself to the cheerful quiet of (-ur fireside. She turned to mo saying, " Tell me all about your blind friend, Medoline. How you first got to know liini, and what he is Uke." I very gladly gave her as full a picture as I was able of the Larkunis and Mr. Bowen, their poverty and his goodness included. *' You have made all these discoveries in a few months, and been doing so much for them, and here have I been living beside tliem for years and did not even know of their existence. . What makes the difference in us, MedoUuo?" she exclaimed sorrowfully. " I think God must have planned my meeting in the train with Mrs. Blake. I would not have known but *or her." "I expeci ne plans many an opportunity for us to serve our generation, but we are too selfishly indolent to do the work he puts in our way." " When I came to Oaklands at first it seemed as if ray life was completed, and I wondered how I was to occupy the days, and years stretching out so long before me. Now I believe I could find work to occupy me for a thousand years ; that is, if Mr. Winthrop lived too, and continued to help ^il»- wonK. get your forglve- dy, leaving Mrs. 3rful quiet of our friend, Medoline. , mid what he is I picture as I was ven, their poverty scoveries in y all means," he said witli apparent sincerity. " There were some for two and a half dollars ; but they looked rather large for a boy of his size." " The less boy the more watch, I should say ■ but be sure and get a large chain. If the watch gets to be trying on his nerves, he ctn use the chain to put an end to lils troubles." *' If he needed them, there are plenty of straps and rope ends about the stable ; but Samuel enjoys life too keenly to be easily disconcerted at n few trials. I was looking at the chains too. I did not know before that jewelry was so low priced." ♦' Yes? " he responded, more as a question than affirmation. "I saw elegant watch chains at one of the stores for fifty cents. I told the clerk who I wanted them for, and he very kiidly interested himself, and showed me some that he called 'dead bargains.' " " Go then, by all means, and secure a bargain for the boy. I will advance the money." " Oh, thank you, I prefer making the gift mysolf. . I want also to get something for Thomas, and I cannot think of anything but a gun or a book. Do you know if he likes to shoot things? " " If Thomas developed a taste for fire-arais he 'S WORK. igh to pay for one?" a lower price do so parent sincerity, and a half dollars ; )r a boy of his size." atch, I should say i hain. If the watch he ci^n use the chain ire plenty of straps ; but Samuel enjoys isconcerted at n few bains too. I did not so low piiced." re as a question than lains at one of the Id the clerk who I ry kiidly interested that he called 'dead I secure a bargain for money." laking the gift mysolf. • y for Thomas, and I a gun or a book. Do things?" taste for fire-anns he CHRISTMAS-TIDE 243 might take to shooting pj omiscuously, and life at Oaklands would no longer be so safe as at present. I should certainly advise a book." " But some of them say he cannot read." " It is high time, then, for him to learn. Thomas is a marvel of thiift, and he won' l>e satisfied to have the book bring in no return. A school book would be a judicious selection." " I saw a book down town about horses and their diseases and treatment. Cook says, ' Thomas dearly loves to fix up medicines for his horses.' " " Verv well. Now that matter is settled, have you any further inquiries to make about Christmas presents ? " " Not any more, thank you." " Then I will tell you a bit of news. I expect Mr. Bovyer here this evening. It is a great favor for him to confer on us at this season — coming to brighten our Christmas." " I fancied we liad the prospect of a very joyous Christmas without help from abroad. To look at the pantry one might imagine we were going to entertain half of Cavendish to-morrow." " I noticed a wistful look on your face when you came in that the purchase of a gun and watch could not wholly account for. Tell me, what is it? " "Mr. Winthrop, can you really read my thoughts ? " I excliiimed, in genuine alarm. " Suppose I try. You would like to have a 244 MEBOLINE SELWrya WORK. spread for your Mill Road pensioners ; possibly at the Blakes or among some of them, and thereby utilize our overplus of provisions. Have I read aright ? " My face flushed hotly, for this certainly had been in my mind for days -, but I had not courage to make the request. " You do not answer my question," he said, after awhile, seeing me stand silent. " One cannot be punished for their thoughts, Mr. Winthrop." " Then this was your thought ? " he questioned. " Surely you must be angry with me for wishing to do it. I did not mention it to Mrs. Flaxman, or any one." " Why, not, indeed. If cook is willing to share her good things with the Mill Road people, and Mrs. Flaxman will accompany you to preserve the proprieties, I do not see anything to hinder. I will provide all the apples and confectionery your hungry crowd can consume for dessert." I stood iu amazement, scarce knowing hovr to express my gratitude. A sudden desire seized me to put my arms around his neck and give him a genuine filial caress. " I wish you were my father, Mr. Winthrop," I exclaimed, impulsively. , "Why so?" "I might be able then to thank you in some comfortable fashion." 1_ 3 WORK. ioners ; possibly at them, and thereby ins. Have I read yr, for this certainly s i but I had not tion," he said, after 'or their thoughts, t ? " he questioned, nth me for wishing t to Mrs. Flaxman, : is willing to share Road people, and you to preserve the liing to hinder. I confectionery your • dessert." 36 knowing how to leu desire seized me ck and give him a r, Mr. Winthrop," I t thank you in some CIIRTSTMAS-TIDE. 245 " I understand what you mean, little one. I told you once that I was not anxious to have you re- gard me in a filial way." Then turning the sub- ject abruptly he said : " You can make all your arrangements regard- less of any reasonable expense. One may permit themselves to be a trifle generous and childish once a year. If you see any more remarkable bargains, you can secure them and have a Christmas tree. Have the goods charged to me." I did not attempt a reply. My heart just then was too near bubbling over to permit speech to be safe or convenient. I slipped quietly from the room. I had a comfortable feelinj that my guard- ian could actually read my thoughts, and knew how I regarded his act and himself. I went directly to Mrs. Flaxman. She entered cordially into my plans, but looked a good deal surprised when I told her it was Mr. Winthrop's suggestion. "I believe, dear, in your unselfish, impulsive way, you have taken the very wisest possible course with him. I never hoped to see tliis day." " I believe it amuses him. 1 have the impres- sion that he is working me up into a book, only making me out more ridiculous than he ought. You cannot imagine how I long, and yet dread to see the book." 246 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. t " But he does not write stories ; so you need not be troubled about that." "He can write them if he chooses, and very clever Oiies too, I am certain. He may be encour- aging me to go on just to find out how it will all end, but I am only one in a universe full of souls ; and it others, many others, get benefited, there will be far greater gain than loss." " That is the true, brave spirit to have, and the only kind that will bring genuine happiness." " Now to return to our festival. Do you think cook will be willing to share her abundance with M?" " Go and ask her, I do not think she will disap- point you." I went directly to the large, cheery kitchen, a favorite haunt of mine of late. It was always so clean and homely, and cook was usually in a gra- cious mood and permitted me to assist in any of her culinary undertakings when I was so minded. Among my other enterprises I had an ambition to become a practical housekeeper in case I might some day be married to a poor man, and have a family to bake and brew for with my own hands. When 1 entered the kitchen I found her more than usually busy, with both Reynolds and Esme- relda pressed into the service. "Shall we ever get all your dainties eaten? Wont they spoil on your hands ? " ■'^^"''ilill 1111 X cniilSTMAS-TIDE. 247 'S WORK. }s ; 80 you need not I chooses, and very He may be encour- out how it will all iverse full of souls ; benefited, there will rit to have, and the ine happiness." val. Do you think her abundance with ;hink she will disap- e, cheery kitchen, a I. It was always so 'as usually in a gra- to assist in any of jn I was so minded. 3 1 had an ambition 3per in case I might or man, and have a th my own hands. 1 I found her more teynolds and Esme- )ur dainties eaten? 8?" " I dare say some of them will ; but Christmas time we expect a little to go to waste." " Don't you give away some ? " I asked. » All that's asked for." " I am so glad to hear it. I want some ever so much." , , "What's up now?" she asked, scarcely with her accustomed deference. " I want so much to have a little treat for my friends, if you will only help. It all depends on ^°"*Why certainly ; it's my place to cook for all the parties you choose to make. It's not ray place to dictate how the victuals is to be used." « You do not understand me. It is not here that I wish to entertain ray friends. Mr. Winthi-op has eiven his permission, on condition you are willing. She was greatly mollified at this and responded heartUy. " Of course I'm willing ; and, bless me, there's plenty to give a good share to them that needs it; and I guess it's them you're wanting to give it to." ._ . " Thank you very, very much. Now you must come to my Christmas trer, and see l^ow mudi pleasure you have been able to confer. Without your consent nothing would have been done. " Yes, I'll come and help you too, and you 11 need me," she said, with much good humor. I did not wait long in the kitchen, so much now must Do 1 248 MEDOLINE SELWYN'8 WORK. done. Alas, Christmas day was so near I could not celebrate my festival on that day ; but another day might find us just as liappy ; and after all it would be " curdling " too much joy into one of the shortest of our days. I put on my wraps and went immediately to confer with Mrs. Blake. I found her, like every one else, in the midst of busy preparsu.ns for Christmas. " Dan'el got me a twelve-pound turkey and lots of oUier tilings ; and lie wants a regular old-fash- ioned Christmas, with all the Larkunis here ; and thou I have one or two little folks I'm going to have in to please myself. Poor little creatures, with a drunken father and no mother worth speak- ing about." " Have you very much trade now ? " " Well, consid'able ; but if you're wanting me for anything I can set up later to-night." " Oh, no, indeed. I just wanted to consult you about something, and I will help you stone these raisins while I sit with you." " Dear heart, you needn't do that ; I'll get the pudding made in plenty of time, but what kindness have 3'ou in your plans now ? " " A Christmas tree. T want you to tell me what to do,, and wlierc to have it." " ^Vhy, the Temperance Hall, of cor. -se, just past the milis. I guess you've never soeu it." hai mc thi ma Cli tlu am W he go an^ a£ on th( ms thi bil an Tl pu bo near I could ; but another md after all it nto one of the iimedlately to er, like every jpanucus for ukey and lots ular old-fash- ms here ; and I'm going to tie creatures, worth speak- ! wanting me ht." consult you u stone these i; I'll get the I'hat kindness ) tell me what ivse, just past it." 7 ■i''W CURIHTMA H-TIDE. 249 " That will be excellent. I did not know you had one here. Now, when shall we liave it? To- morrow will be too soon, I am afraid." *' Yes, and it seems a pity to have so many good things all to onct. Most everybody has a Christ- mas of some sort. How would Friday do." "Very nicely. That will be two days after Christmas. Little folks will have recovered from the effects of their feasting by that time." " Well, Dan'el '11 get a tree and fix up the Hall ; and tell, then, who you'll want to invite." "All the children on the Mill Road may come. We will have something for each of them." "I'm very glad; for there's a few children around here that hardly knows what it is to have anything good to eat; and it'll be something for 'em to think and talk about. They'll not forget it, or you, for a good many years, I can tell you. If rich folks only knew how much good they might do, I think they'd not be so neglectful." I soon left Mrs. Blake to continue her Christ- mas preparations alone, feeling much relieved that Daniel was going to assume the responsi- bility of securing the Hall, providing the tree, and notifying my guests. I got my presents for Thomas and Samuel, and then set about the purchase of gifts for the Christmas tree. Picture- books, jack-knives, dolls, and other toys comprised my selection. These, I concluded, would give the I ; ' '1 I ; ,1 i i' tso MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. children more pleasure than the more necessary articles which an older and wiser person would naturally have selected. I had got so absorbed in my work that I quite forgot our expected guest until I went into the dining-room, unfortunately a little late, and found them already engaged at dinner, and Mr. Bovyer with them. Mr. Win- throp exi.lained my tardiness in such a way that T was left a little cross and uncomfortable, and took my dinner something after the fivshion of a naughty child suffering from reproof. Before the evening was over, however, I had forgotten my passing dissatisfaction ; for Mr. Bovyer was in one of his inspired moods when he sat at the piano. I noticed afterward that Mrs. Fhixman's eyes were very red ; but while he was playing my atten- tion was taken up in part with the music, and partly in furtively watching Mr. Winthrop. He seemed ill at ease, and restless; while Mr. Bovyer's utmost efforts were powerless to move him to tears. When we had all drawn cosily around the fire, after the music was ended, I remarked with some regret, " I do not think Mr. Winthrop has any tears to shed. His eyes were as dry as a bone." " The night is too fine for such an effect. Wait until we have a storm," he said, with a smile. " Your nerves are too strong for a storm to affect them. Something very different will be required. I am afraid we must give you up." thii unt Mr pat goi i me ing ths de( yo kii pu trs m< 'OJiK. more necessary r person would t so absorbed in expected guest unfortunately a ;vdy engaged at lem. Mr. Win- such a way that omfortable, and ;he fivshion of a oof. Before tho ,d forgotten my )vyer was in one at tlie piano. Fhixman's eyes laying my atten- Ihe music, and Winthrop. He lile Mr. Bovyer's to move him to 30sily around the I remarked with Vinthrop has any iry as a bone." an effect. Wait vith a smile. r a storm to affect will be required. CIIK IS TMA S- TIDE. 251 " Life is too smooth with him for music or any- thing ajsthetic to ruHle tlio deeper springs. Wait until he has storms and whirlwinds to withstand." Mr. Bovyer said, calmly. " Oh I hope he will never have them, he has not patience like— some," I added, after a pause. I was going to say Mr. Bowei *' You must know that my ward has taken my measure very correctly. She is better than a look- iiig-gliiss. Indeed I was not aware until lately that I had bo many shortcomings." " Medicine for a mind diseased, administered by a gentle hand, cannot be hard to take." "The softest hand can sometimes wound tho deepest." » Mr. Winthrop, surely I have never wounded you ! I have not the power. To think so would give me pain ; for, in your way, you have been kind to me— more so than I deserve," I said, im- pulsively. "Wo are always trembling in the verge of tragedy," he said lightly, and then rang for refresh- ments ; and after that we retired. T CHAPTER XVIII. THE CHRISTMAS TREE. PIRISTMAS morninfj dawned bright and clear, the one dniwhack the hvck of snow. .=___ Thomas had everything in readiness, and every one in the house was h)oking forward to a sleigli- ride. However, all the other Christmas cus- tom's were observed. Before breakfast. was the gen- eral distribution of gifts. We were all assembled at the usual breakfast hour in the dining-room, when Mrs. Flaxman rang the bell for the servants to come in. Reynolds was the first to appear. She took her seat nearest to Mr. Winthrop ; then Mrs. Jones, the cook, and Tliomas, Esmerelda, and Samuel came in. Reynolds got her present first— a nice black silk dress. I saw by the pleased flush in her face that she was consideraV)ly astonished. The others, each a five-dollar bill; and for Samuel, a jack-knife that would be the envy of all his comrades. Mrs. Flaxman had something for each one of them, and I. BE. T in. vnecl bright and .he lack of snow, in reaiUness, and ng forward to a )r Clnistmas cus- ifast.was the gen- 3 all assembled at ining-room, when servants to come ■ar. She took her n Mrs. Jones, the [ Saninol came in. -a nice black silk h in her face that The others, each uiel, a jack-knife comrades. Mrs. one of them, and THE CnniftTMAS TBEE. 253 then I followed. When I reached Samncl and handed him the watcli from which was sn,si)en(led ii glittering chain, his politeness quite forsook liim. " Golly, but that's a stunner," he ejaculated invol- untarily. Suddenly remembering liimself he said, very humbly : " Thank you, ma'am." Thomas re- garded his book with some apijrehension; but turn- ing over the leaves, the pictures of so many hand- some horses reconciled him. After they liad filed out I took my opportunity to deliver the gifts I had prepared with much care for Mr. Winthrop and Mrs. Flaxman ; for the latter an idealized portrait of Hubert, in a heavy gilt frame, which I had painted from a photograph ; and for Mr. Winthrop a much better jncture of Oaklands than the one he already possessed. I turned to Mr. Bovyer uncertainly, and, after a moment hesitation, said : "I have a bit of my work here for you; but it is so little worth. I am ashamed to offer it." I handed him the folded leaves, tied with ribbons, of Longfellow's " Reapers and the Angels," which I had spent some time in trying to illustrate, with the hope one day of turn- ing it into cash. He thanked me, I thought, with unnecessary fervor, considering the smallness of the gift, and stood examining my poor attempt to express the poet's meaning by brush and pencil. " I say, Winthrop, this is really clever for one so young." w- 254 MEDOLINE SELWTN'B WORK- Mr. Winthrop took the book and turned over the leaves. " You have reason to be proud, Medoline, that one of our severest art critics has pronounced favorably on your work. Perhaps the being re- membered on Christmas morning has made him blind to its faults." " I find Mr. Winthrop a very healthy corrective against any flattering remarks of my other friends, I accept him as a sort of mental tonic," I said, turn-? ing to Mr. Bovyer. "Our norning's work is not yet completed," Mr. Winthrop said. " Please excuse me a moment," He went into the library, and returning shortly, he went first to Mrs. Flaxman and gave her a good sized parcel. I was waiting so eagerly to see her open it that I scarce thought if I, too, should be re- membered 5 but after standing for a few seconds by the fire he came to my side and gave me a tiny box done up carelessly in a bit of paper. I opened it, when the moat beautiful diamond ring I ever saw glittered a moment after on my finger. "Oh, Mr. Winthrop, is this really and truly mine?" " Really and truly, yes." In my surprise and delight I lifted the ring to my lips and kissed it. "That is the prettiest compliment paid to a gift I ever witnessed," Mr. Bovyer said, with p smile. 1 <'\:. WORK. md turned over I, Medoline, that has pronounced ps the being re- made him J has lealthy corrective my other friends, )nic," I said, turur yet completed," ise me a moment," arning shortly, he 1 gave her a good jagerly to see her , too, should be re- r a few seconds by ;ave me a tiny box ser. I opened it, id ring I ever saw finger, really and truly lifted the ring to lent paid to a gift id, with p smile. THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 3B5 " Medoline has her own way of doing things. I find her refreshingly original." *' That is almost better than the ring," I mur- mured gratefully, looking up into Ids face. "Shall we have breakfast served now?" He turned abruptly round and touched the bell. I be- thought me of Mrs. Flaxraan and looked just in time to see her slipping off an elegant sealskin dolman, while her eyes looked very dewy and ten- der. " Mr. Winthrop, you are making this Christmas- tide positively regal with your gifts. So many of us that you have gladdened— Mill Road i'llks and all," I said, not able wholly to restra'.u "^^y affec- tionate impulses as I laid my hand lightly on his— the first time I had ever so touched him. He folded his other hand over mine for an in- stant, and then we sat down to the breakfast which had just been brought in. Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Bovyer spent the greater part of the day together alone. After breakfast they took a long horseback ride across country, only reaching home in time for luncheon, and then Mr. Winthrop had some choice additions to his library to exhibit, that kept them employed until dinner. Mrs. Flaxman smiled at the way Mr. Bovyer's time was engrossed by my guardian, but I do not think either of us regretted it; for we had so many happy fancies of our own to dwell upon ,1 ' i J tli ■ ii i! 256 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WOUK. that the brief December day seemed all too short. Just before dinner I went to the kitchen to see how Samuel was getting on with his timepiece, but found that he had been away all day. " That watch of his his baen more talked about in Cooper's Lane, where Iiis folks live, than any- thing else, I'll warrant, this day," Thomas assured me. " He'll be back soon. The smell of dinner always fetches him home." We had scarce done speaking when I heard his step at the door, and presently he came in. His watch-chain was arranged in most conspicuous fashion across his waistcoat, and caught the light very cheerfully as he stcid near the lamp. " What's the time ? " Thomas asked soberly ; but Samuel was too smart to be so easily trapped. " There's the clock right afore your eyes." " The time maybe'd be better from a bran new watch." I did not linger to hear more of their badinage, but the look of satisfaction on Samuel's face found a reflection in my own heart, and I wondered in what way I could have spent a few dollars to pro- cure a larger amount of happiness. We had quite a large dinner party that evening. Mr. Hill, our minister, was there, with his wife and grown-up daughter, and some half-dozen others of our Caven- dish acquaintances. I found the hour at dinner rather heavy and tiresome. My neighbors on my 1 '^ORK. d all too short. chen to see liow timepiece, but J- re talked about live, thau any- riiomas assured smell of dinner hen I heard his ! came in. His )st conspicuous jaught the light le lamp. asked soberly ; ) easily trapped, our eyes." rom a bran new their badinage, luel's face found i I wondered in kv dollars to pro- We had quite •. Mr. Hill, our e and grown-up jrs of our Caven- hour at dinner neighbors on my THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 267 right and left being — the one a regular diner-out whose conversation was mostly gustatory, and the other a youth whose ideas never seemed to rise above the part of his hair or cut of his garments. I noticed Mr. Bovyer sitting further up on the other side of the table looking quite as bored as I felt, his next neighbor being a young lady the exact counterpart in ideas and aims of the youth beside me. The dinner itself was a triumph of cook's skill, and, as is usually the case with a din- ner suitably prepared, its effect was composing. Mr. Winthrop neither drank wine nor smoked, and did not encourage these habits in his guests; so that we all left the table together and proceeded to the drawing-room. I was the last of the ladies to pass from the room, and Mr. Bovyer joined me and accompanied me into the drawing-room. I was getting interested in his conversation, when Mr. Winthrop came and urged for some music. " It is impossible just now ; 1 do not feel as if I could do justice even to ' Hail Columbia.' " " Then, Medoline, you will give us some of your German songs, and, by the time you are through, Mr. Bovyer will be in the mood to enchant us." " With the exception of our school examinations, I never played before so many persons in my life. I shall find it very hard," I said, already beginning to tremble with nervousness. 17 1 : i ■! •J'! 1 268 MEDOLINE SELWYN^S WORK. "It will be an excellent opportunity to display ^"nVface crimsoned. Possibly I had allowed the hand that wore my diamond ring a little too much freedom ; but the sparkle of the beautiful gem, that just now reminded me of '\l^»g« f ^^f °P' pleased me ; for I was still much of a child at heart. As we were crossing the room, I said : " It is not good taste for me to take the piano first. Ihere are others here who should have been invited. «Tut, child; I never ask them. They would distract me with their noise." "Is that not an indirect compliment for me r i said, looking up at him, my good humor partially restored. ., , " I shall be compelled to designate you the mark of interrogation-call you rogue for shortness. " After this morning's experience, I shall not be able to find any name nice enough for you, Isaid, ^"That is cruel-Hterally smothering me with coals of fire." I turned over my music with trembhng fingers ; for, more than all, I dreaded Mr. Bovyer. Select- ing one of the simplest songs, I sat down, deter- mined to go resolutely through with it. When 1 ceased, I found that Mr. Bovyer had joined us. 1 rose hastily. " I am so glad you have come ; you wiU reward my obedience to Mr. Winthrop, surely ( mi thi pli ris ro( go da foi til C< us dii ta sa m m b€ 8i| in P< BU 1 :%' ORK. lity to display lad allowed the little too much beautiful gem, iiige tear-drop, [V child at heart, said: "It is not 10 first. There en invited." . They would lentfor me?" I humor partially te you the mark )r shortness." le, I shall not be for you," I said, hering me with embling fingers; Bovyer. Select- sat down, deter- ith it. When I lad joined us. I ve come ; you will hrop, surely ? " THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 269 i* Yes — by asking for some more of that tender music of the Fatherland. My mother used to croon that song over us in childhood." Mr. Winthrop joined his commands ; so I com- plied, with a German martial song; and then, rising quickly, I went to the further side of the room, and took a seat beside Mrs. Hill. " You have got tired before the res*^ ^f us, dear." ♦' I would not like to tire you. Mr. Bovyer is going to play now, and we shall none of us be in danger of weariness." And he did play as I had never heard him do be- fore, filling the room with harmonies that some- time? grew painful in their excess of sweetness. Conversation ceased utterly — a compliment not usually paid to musicians, I had noticed, in Caven- dish. I glanced occasionally at Mr. Winthrop, who had taken a seat not far from where I was sitting. He sat with eyes closed, but not betraying, by a single muscle of the strong, self-contained face, that the music was affecting him in the slightest. " This evening has given us something to remem- ber until our dying day," Mrs. Hill said, with a deep sigh of satisfaction, after Mr. Bovyer ceased play- ing. " It was exceedingly kind in Mr. Winthrop permitting us to share in the evening's enjoyment." " Was it for this he invited you ? " I asked, with surprise. !-i ► 1 260 MEDOLINE 8EL WTN'S WORK. « That was the inducement to leave our honiea on Christmas Day. But we do not need a special inducement to come to Oaklands; we always con- sider it a high privilege to be Mr. Winthrops guest." I. V " " Yes, he can be very charming when he chooses, I said, unthinkingly, but very soiry for my remark directly it was uttered. " Then you were only in- vited here this morning, since Mr. Bovyer had only just arrived?" I asked. "Oh, no, indeed; our invitations were received a week ago. Mr. Winthrop knew he was coming." AH these people knew Mr. Bovyer was commg, and a gala time planned for Christmas, and I was kept in ignorance. Mr Winthrop don't regard me of enough importance to be intrusted with the merest trifles of every-day life, I thought, sorrow- fully; but just then my eye fell on the nng, when it flashed into my gloomy heart a ray of light brighter than any sunbeam. ■ The two following days I was so absorbed m my Christmas tree that I paid very little attention to our guest, or anything going on about me, save what was directly connected with the duty m hand. A list of all the names had first to be got, and then each gift properly labeled. Muslin bags, orna- mented with bright-colored wools, were to be made, and filled with nuts and confectionery ; and, last of all, the tree liad to be dressed. Mr. Bowen and Di th les ch an O da wl M w m ar a C( tl IS T t\ n tl 8( n ave our homes need a special we always con- Ir. Winthrop's en he chooses," for my remark u were only in- Jovyer had only J were received [le was coming." rer was coming, mas, and I was don't regard me rusted with the thought, sorrow- n the ring, when a ray of light absorhed in my ttle attention to about me, save the duty in hand. ■> be got, and then islin bags, orna- , were to be made, nery ; and, last of Mr. Bowen and THE CUlilSTMAS THEE. 2G1 Daniel Blake entered so heartily into the spirit of the undertaking that I found my own labors greatly lessened. Thomas cheerfully gave up his most cherished plans to carry the supplies to the hall, and things generally went on very satisfactorily. Othera, too, sent in hampers filled with Cluistmas dainties ; among the rest, one from Mrs. Hill, to whom I had very fully described my undertaking. Mrs. Blake watched the heap slowly accumulating with a veiy preoccupied face ; at last she spoke her mind freely : " It seems a pity to have all these things eat up, and get no good from 'em. Now, I'd like to charge a trifle, and let every one come that wants to." " What would be done with the money ? " " There's plenty of ways to spend it ; but if I could have a say in the matter I'd like to give it to them poor little creatures I had for dinner Christ- mas. The mother's jest heart-broke. I believe you could count their bones; leastways all of them that's next the skin. I railly thought I could not get them filled ; but I did at last, and then they was stupid like, they'd been short of victuals so long." "Are their clothes as poor as their bodies?" " Yes, indeed ; and it does seem hard this cold weather for little children to have neither flesh nor flannels over the bones." " I am perfectly willing to make a small charge, i \ :, !i T 262 MEDOLINE SELWYirS WORK. if you can let it be known in time for the people to be prepared." "Oh, Dan'e and Mr. Bowen '11 see to that. Put up a notice in the mill and post-office ; every- body '11 find it out." So it was agreed that we should make the grown up folk pay something ; but I insisted the price must not exceed twenty-five cents. I went home to luncheon on Friday, very tired, but also very enthusiastic over our tree. If I could secure Mr. Winthrop's consent to a plain dinner, our entire domestic force could attend, and they were all eager to do so. He and Mr. Bovyer were engaged in a warm discussion over somti knotty subject as they entered the dining-room, thereby compelling me to leave my question for sometime unasked. But Mr. Bovyer presently turned to me and said, " Really, Miss Selwyn, you must think we have forgotten your existence." " Oh, no, indeed ; but I should like you to con- verse on something within nearer range of my faculties for a little while." " We are all attention." I turned to Mr. Winthrop as he spoke : "Is it really imperative that you have a regular dinner to-day? Could you not take something easily prepared, a cup of tea, for instance, and some cold meats, and the like ? " m T WRK. :or the people to 11 see to that. 8tK)ffice; every- make the grown listed the price iday, very tired, our tree. If I sent to a plain ould attend, and and Mr. Bovyer siou over somd he dining-room, my question for ovyer presently t think we have like you to con- er range of ray I spoke : u have a regular take something stance, and some THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 263 " You propose a genuine funeral recast. Is any- th"'ig n' jut to happen? " " Our Christmas tree ; and our entire house- hold is eager to go," yourself excepted. " Why can't we all go? " Mr. Bovyer suggested, with considerable eagerness. Mr. Winthrop looked aghast. " They would think on the Mill Road the millen- nium was dawning if Mr. Winthrop were to step down among them, I said." " Then by all means let us foster the illusion." " I will take the baked meats, Medoline, or a cracker and cheese — anything rather than that crowd." " That is ever so kind. I will come home to brew you a cup of tea myself. Ever since I was a child I have wanted to prepare a meal all alone — it will be really better than the Christmas tree ; I mean more enjoyable." "You have the greatest capacity for simple pleasures of any one I ever knew. We shall ac- cept your services. Before you are through, you may find the task not so enjoyable as you think ; but at the very worst we will give our help." "Thank you very much; but one ignoramus blundering in the kitchen will be better than three." Mrs. Flaxman looked greatly amused, but she very willingly gave her consent for me to come home while the guests were absorbed with their 264 MEDOLINE SELWyy\S wonK. ::.;.';! |-:;':i supper, and gratify my life-long yearning. The others were quite as well pleased as I ; and cook permitted me to concoct, unaided, some special dishes for our repast. I laid the table myself, not accepting the slightest help from any one. My cooking ventures turned out quite successfully, and after a while my preparations were completed, so far as Wivs possible, until the finishing touches just before dinner was served. I went and dressed my- self for the evening's entertainment. I took equal pains with my costume, as if I were going to enter- tain a party of friends at home, and it may be I was foolish enough to have a feeling of elation that my Mill Road friends should see me for once dressed like a real lady. Tlie picture that my glass gave back when the pleasant task was all completed was comfortably reassuring. Mrs. Flax- man I found waiting for me, when I went down- stairs. Thomas had brought out at her direction a huge, old-fashioned carriage, that in the old days they had christened " Noah's Ark," and into it we all crowded, even including Samuel, wlio had an ambition for once in his life to have a drive with the aristrocracy. When we reached the hall, we found it already crowded, although it wanted a full hour before supper was to be announced. Mr. Bowen was doorkeeper, and on the table at his side I was glad to see a goodly heap of coin. Mrs. Blake si 81 IV h ai ie ai tc tl cl fij pi m SG th sii th ps th gt Tl fo: fa< A on pr di JL "T VOHK. yearning. The as I; and cook d, 801T1C special able myself, not 1 any one. My mccessf nlly, and e completed, so ing touches just and dressed my- b. I took equal ! going to enter- ed it may be I iling of elation see me for once icture that my it task was all ng. Mrs. Flax- I went down- i her direction a n the old days and into it we el, wlio had an ve a drive with )und it already ill hour before 'r. Bowen was his side I was 1. Mrs. Blake THE CriUlSTMAS TREE. 265 stood near, regarding the money with unconcealed satisfaction, which con-siderably deepened when Mrs. Flaxman stepped up and shook hands with her. Daniel seemed to be master of ceremonies, and was walking around with a mixed air of anx- iety and satisfaction. The work was new to him, and he was somewhat uncertain all the time what to do next. But on the whole he managed every- thing with good common sense. He had the children seated directly in front of the tree, some fifty of them, he assured me. Their faces were a picture of genuine childish delight. Probably memory would hold this scene clearly pictured on some of their hearts long after I was sleeping under the daisies. Long tables were ranged down each side of the house, on which was placed the food the people had come to enjoy. We walked slowly past them, and were surprised attlie judgment and good taste of the arrangements. I waited until the children's tea was over. They were really the guests of the evening, and must be first served. Then in the bustle of getting the table in readiness for the older ones, I made my escape. Thomas was waiting near to drive me home, his face quite radiant at the success of our enterprise. Arrived at Oaklands, I entered with great glee into our culinary operations, and soon had the dinner prepared. When my gentlemen came into the dining-room I was sitting, hot, and a trifle anxious, 266 MKDOLINE tiEDVYN'S WOliK. at tlie head of the table awaiting them. My respect for the powers in the kitchen that carried on our domestic macliiuery with so Utile jar, greatly in- creased. We had a laughable time changing the plates for our different courses. Thomas, who was installed in Esmeralda's place at the back of my chair, was about as awkward in his new situa- tion as I was; but at the close of our repast, Mr. Winthrop, with apparent sincerity, assured us he had not enjoyed a dinner so much since his boy- hood — a compliment that fully repaid me for my worry until I had thought it well over, and saw that it was capable of several meanings. I enter- tained them with a lively description of the sceric going on at the Temperance Hall. Mr. Bovyer de- clared his intention of accompanying me on my return — a resolution, I could see, that waa anything but pleasing to Mr. Winthrop. I was secretly very glad, since it was possible he might make a dona- tion to our doorkeeper. Once on the way, Thomas drove his horses as I had never seen him do before. Possibly he was afraid the supper might all be con- sumed. He had paid his fee, and was resolved to get his money's worth. He may have hoped that by some happy chance he might sit down with those with whom he could not expect on any other occasion to have a similar privilege. I paid par- ticular attention to Mr. Bovyer. As we passed Mr. Bowen's table I saw him drop, in quiet ffl tt ai ai tl ti g 1 V c f tl t 1 OUK. nil. My rcapect I carried on our jar, greatly in- B changing tlie Thomas, who ! at the back of I his new situa- our rci)ast, Mr. ■, assured us he h since his boy- paid me for my over, and saw ;iiings. I enter- ion of the sceric Mr. Bovyer de- ying me on my lat was anything vas secretly very ht make a dona- he way, Thomas n him do before, might all be con- l was resolved to have hoped that t sit down with >ect on any other ege. I paid par- As we passed drop, iu quiet THE CintlSTMAfi THEE. 987 fashion, a bank note upon it. Mr. Bowen hastened to make change, but Mr. Bovyer shook his head and passed on. I turned to look at Mr. Bowen, and saw his face suddenly light uj) so cheerfully that 1 concluded ho had received a generous dona- tion. I led Mr. Bovyer up where the cliildren, growing now very curious over the Christmas Tree, were with difficulty preserving the pro- prieties of the occasion. He looked them over carefully, as if they were some distinct species from another planet, and then turning to me, said, " Did you say these were all poor children ? " "Their fathers are day laborers, and some of them are without that useful adjunct to child- hood." " They look rosy and happy." "I presume they would look happy under present circumstances if their fathers were tramps. You should see the homes some of them will return to when they leave here. You would wonder at the forge tfulness of childhood." " How did you chance to think of this merry gathering ? " " I am not sure it was chance. All our thoughts do not come in that way." " Are the children here who are to reap the largest benefit from this affair ? " "Yes. Do you see those pale, pinched-faced girls w h the pink cotton frocks on, sitting at the 268 MEDOLINE tfA'LVKrA'.S WOltK. !'!,y;; end of that farthest hench, and these two boys just in front with clothes several sizes too large? " He stood silently regarding them for some time, and then said : " Tlie world is strangely divided. It is one of the reasons that makes me doubt the existence of a beneficent All-Father." " But these may get safely into the light and fullness of Heaven." " Yes," he said, thoughtfully ; " but how few of them will live up to the requirements of admit- tance to that perfect place ? " " The rich have as many shortcomings as the poor. Sometimes I think they have even more." " You are very democratic." " Is that a serious charge against me ? The one perfect Being our world has seen chose poverty, and a lot among the lowly. When the world grows older, and men get wiser, possibly they will make the same choice." " There have been solitary instances of the like along the ages — men of whom the world was not worthy — but the most of us are not such stuff as heroes are made of." I turned to him with kindling eyes : " Wouldn't you like to be one of thorn, Mr. Bovyer? " He gave me a look that some way I did not care to neet, and turned my eyes away quickly to a restless black-eyed little girl who was stretching eager hands to a pink-cheeked dollie. S. ti 8E n h D t: t a 1 c t OliK. B two boys just )o large ? " for some time, angely divided, i me doubt the r." o the light and but how few of ments of admit- tcomings as the 5 even more." t me ? The one ose poverty, and he world grows they will make inces of the like e world was not lot such stuff as 'es: "Wouldn't ovyer?" ly I did not care ay quickly to a ) was stretching lie. THE CHRISryfAS TREE. 269 "You feel the sorrows of tlie poor and suffering more keenly than the most of us, I fear, Miss Selwyn," he said — more to draw me into conversa- tion than anything else. "My sympathies are of a very easy-going, aesthetic kind. Some of your splendid music makes me cry. While I listen, I think of the hungry and broken-hearted. I seem to } \.t their moans in the sob and swell of the music. It was that which made Beethoven's Symphony so sad." He did not say anything for a good while, and fell to watching the longing in the children's faces, and my heart grow v,ry pitiful towards them. They were so near and yet so far from the objects of their desire. So I resolved while the supper table was being cleared to begin the distribution of my gifts, or rather, of Mr. Winthrop's. I set Mr. Bovyer to work gathering the bags of confectionery, while I carried them around to the excited children, taking bench by bench in regular order, and filling the little outstretched hands, usu- ally so empty of any such dainties. Tlie people came crowding around to watch, while I began stripping the tree of its more enduring fruits Mothers with tears in their eyes, as they saw their little tots growing rapturous over an unclothed dollie, or some other toy, beautiful to the unaccus- tomed eyes of the poor litfi- creatures. The tree was stripped at last, and the children absorbed in Ml 1,'H. 7,; IV 270 MEDOLINE SELWTirS WORK. the examination of their own or each other's pres- ents. Most of them seemed perfectly content, but a few of the little boys looked enviously at the jack-knife in a companion's hand, while casting dis- satisfied glances at what had fallen to themselves. It was time at last for the little folks to go home, and mothers soon were busy hunting up children and their wraps. The closing scene in the entertainment was the public announcement of the evening's receipts; and we all looked with suiprised faces at each other when Mr. Bowen informed us that there was within a few cents of one hundred dollars. " Some of our guests this evening have treated us very generously ; notably one gentleman in particular, who dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table beside me," Mr. Bowen said, in conclusion. I gave Mr. Bovyer a meaning glance and also a very grateful one; but it was apparently thrown away ; for not a muscle of his face moved in re- sponse to my smile. Mrs. Blake went around fur a while like one in a dream. " Deary me 1 it'll be jest like a fortin' to 'em," she ejaculated at last ; "but Miss Selwyn '11 have to take charge of it, or that mis'able Bill Sykes '11 drink it up in no time." And then it was decided to act on Mrs. Blake's suggestion, and the money was given to me to expend on Mrs. Sykes and her children as they THE CHRISTMAS TREE. 271 'ORE. ,ch other's pres- tly content, but nviously at the ^hile casting dis- 1 to themselves, oiks to go home, ;ing up children anment was the ling's receipts; I faces at each 18 that there was dollars. "Some treated us very .n in particular, ill on the table I conclusion. I i and also a very arently thrown 36 moved in re- went around fur eary me 1 it'll be .culated at last; B charge of it, or nk it up in no on Mrs. Blake's given to me to children as they required, — a task soon accomplished when their need was so urgent. We went home that night very elated at the success of our venture. Cook was slightly inclined to assume a large share of the credit, and as her labor in the matter of cake and pastry making was so much greater than anything I had done, I gracefully yielded her all the credit she could desire. No doubt, in all undertakings, from the capture of a kingdom to a tea meeting, there are many among to whom the honors by right belong. ii iMll; ■M'r^ ■•;''iiv CHAPTER XIX. THREE IMPOBTANT LETTEES. lesnNE evening when I returned from a long fSSt walk, Esmeralda gave me a letter directed B^fl in the most fashionable style of ladies' handwriting. I was a good deal surprised at receiving a letter through such a source, especially as Esmeralda whispered me to secrecy. I had no time to break the seal, for callers were waiting; and when they left, Mr. Winthrop summoned me to the study fi)r a review of the week's reading. This was a custom he had some time before insti- tuted, and I was finding it increasingly interesting. He selected .ny course of reading, and a very strong bill of fare i was finding it, some of the passages straining my utmost power of brain to comprehend. He had, as yet, confined me chiefly to German literature, mainly Kant and Lessing, with a dip into Schiller now and then, he said, by way of relaxation. He seemed gratified at the interest I t( P a V li i1 u e i h n c I s a s <3 a c t ITEBS. ned from a long ! a letter directed ) style of ladies' eal surprised at source, especially icrecy. I had no 3r8 were waiting; op summoned me e week's reading, time before insti- singly interesting. , and a very strong le of the passages ill to comprehend, ihiefly to German jssing, with a dip ! said, by way of i at the interest I THREE IMPORTANT LETTERS. 273 1 took in his efforts to develop my intellectual powers, and sometimes he sat chatting with me, after the lesson was ended, by the firelight, until we were summoned to dinner. His mind appeared like some rich storehouse where every article has its appointed place ; and while it held many a treas- ure from foreign sources, its own equipment was equal to the best. I could not always follow him. He gave me credit, I believe, for much greater brain power than I possessed ; but what I could not comprehend made me the more eager to over- come the impediment of ignorance and stupidity. In these hours in his own study, where very few, save myself, were permitted to enter, he laid aside all badinage and severe criticism. I blundered sadly, at times, over the meaning of some "specially difficult passages ; but he helped me through with a quiet patience that amazed me. I mentioned it one day to Mrs. Flaxman, expressing my surprise that he should so patiently endure my ignorance, and stupidity. " It is just like him. He has a world ot patience with any one really trying to do good work. I think he begins to understand you better. He is prejudiced against our sex in the mass. He thinks we are more fond of pleasure than of anything else in the world ; but if he once finds his mistake, his atonement is complete." "Why is he so prejudiced?" I asked, hoping 18. ' 1 : 274 MEDOLINE SELWTirS WOBK. Mrs. Flaxman would continue the story Thomas had begun. „ . ^ *« " He has had good reason. He is not one to rashly condemn one." « But is it not i-Hsh to misjudge the many for the wrong doing of the single individual ? It does not prove all are alike." „ , ,. ,» " Have you ever heard anything, Medolme ( She asked anxiously. "Merely a hint, but I have buUt many aatory on that." 4. * 11, > " You must not trust servants or ignorant tolKs gossip. I hope your Mill Road friends do not talk about your guardian." " They scarcely mention his name. Mrs. JilaKe cei-tainly expressed surprise, a long time ago, when we gave those vegetables away, that such a thing should take place at Oaklands. I would not per- mit any one to speak unkindly of Mr. Winthrop m my hearing," I said, proudly. » That is right ; he is not easy to understand* but one day you will find he is true as steel." She left the room abruptly. I fancied she was afraid I might ask troublesome questions. Now as I sat in the study, I began to listen and dream together, wondering what sort of woman it was he could love and caress, and how she could lightly trample on his love. The tears came to my eyes as I looked and listened, picturing him the central WORK. he story Thoma8 He is not one to the many for the Lual ? It does not ling, Medoline?" luilt many aatory or ignorant folks' 'riends do not talk ame. Mrs. Blake ng time ago, when , that such a thing I would not per- if Mr. Winthrop in asy to understand, true as steel." I fancied she was le questions. Now [) listen and dream )f woman it was he f she could lightly 3 came to my eyes ing him the central THREE IMPORTANT LETTERS. 27S sun of a perfect home, with wife and children enriching liis heart with their love. When those deep gray eyes looked into mine, my drooping lii8hes tried to conceal from tlieir searching gaze, my mutinous thoughts. Strange that this partic- ular evening, while 1 sat with the half forgotten letter in my pocket, imagination was busier than ever, while I found it more than usually diflficult to comprehend Lessing's ponderous thoughts; and the desire seized me to leave these high thinkers, on their lonely mountain heights, and, with my guardian, come down to the summer places of every-day life. He noticed rjy abstraction at last, for he sa'-l abruptly : "Are you not interested in to-day's lesao i, Medoline?" I faltered as I met his searching eye. " I am always interested in what you say, Mr. Winthrop; but to-day my thoughts have been wandering a good deal." " Where have they been wandering to ? " My face crimsoned, but I kept silent. " I would like to know what you were thinking about?" he said, gently. " A young girl's foolish fancies would seem very childish to you, after what you have been talking about." " Nevertheless, we like sometimes the childish _, 1 > i'l I!''! U \ ii'i 276 MEhOLINE SKIAVY^^S W0B£. andinnocent. I have a fancy for it just now, Medo- ^"'"Please,Mr. Winthrop, I cannot tell you all my thoughts. They are surely my own, and cannot be torn from me ruthlessly." " What sort of persons are you meeting now at vour Mill Road Mission?" He suddenly changed the conversation, to my intense relief. . , - The very same that I have met all along, with the exception of the Sykes f amily-they are a new ^'Twerryou thinking of anyone you know there iust now, that caused your inattention ? ' » Why, certainly not, Mr. Winthrop. I do not care so very much for them as that."" He was silent for a good while, in one of his ab- stracted moods ; and, thinking the lesson was over for that day, I was about to leave the 'room. He arose, and, going to the window, stood looking out into the night-I quietly watching him, and woiw dering of what he was so busily thinking. Pres- ently he turned, and, coming to the table where I was sitting, stood looking down intently at me. "Medoline,ha3 it ever occurred to you that you are an unusually attractive bit of womanhood? I drew back almost as if he had struck me a blow. He smiled. ^ " You are iis odd as you are fascinating, he said. 1( I i V h ■V 8 € G I 'ill'lli. Ifev V0B£. just now, Medo- t tell you all my 11, and cannot be , meeting now at versation, to my et all along, with r — they are a new e you know there ntion?" ithrop. I do not lat."' , in one of his ab- e lesson was over ve the room. He stood looking out ng him, and won- ■f thinking. Pres- the table where I intently at me. 3d to you that you f womanhood? " had struck me a scinating," he said. THREE IMPORTANT LETTERS. 277 He went to his writing-desk. I watched him un- lock one of the drawers and take out two envelopes. He came back and stood opposite me at the table. "I received, a few days ago, a letter from my friend Bovyer, in which he enclosed one for you, which I was at liberty to read. Probably I should have submitted it to you earlier, but " He did not finish the sentence, and stood quietly while I read the letter. The hot blood was crim- soning my neck and brow, and, without raising my eyes, I pushed the letter across the table, without speaking. He handed me another. A strong im- pulse seized me to fly from the room, but I had not courage to execute my desire. The second letter was fully as surprising as the first. It was from another of Mr. Winthrop's friends, who had fre- quented our hotel in New York. I recalled his face readily, and the impression his manners and con- versation had made on my mind. He had fewer years to boast than Mr. Bovyer, but more good looks. I finished his letter, and, still holding it in my hand, unconsciously fell to recalling more dis- tinctly my half-forgotten impressions of his person- ality. I remembered he could say brilliant things in an ofif-hand way, as if he were not particularly proud of the fact. I remembered, too, that he had genuine humor, and had often convulsed me with a merriment I was ashamed to betray ; but, strange to say, of 3,11 those who had haunted Mr. Win- ll! 278 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORE. throp'8 parloi-s in those two weeks, not one had paid me 80 little attention as this Maurice Graeui ; and now both he and Mr. Bovyer had written, asking my guardian's permission to have me as life-long companion and friend. " What shall it be, Medoline ? You cannot say yes to both of them." The question startled me. "Are you very anxious for me to leave Oak- lands?" My lips quivered as I spoke. « Why, child, that is my trouble just now. I am not willing ever to lose you— certainly not so soon as these impetuous youths desire." "Mr. Bovyer is not young," I said, with a light- ened heart. " What shall I say to them, then ? " " That I do not want to leave Oaklands. I am so happy here." He made me no reply, but turned again to his writing-desk, and was locking *he letters safely away when I left the room. Then I bethought me o! the letter still unopened in my pocket, and was hastening to my room, when Mrs. Flaxman inter- cepted me. " Won't you come into my room, Medoline, just for a few minutes ? " I followed her with some reluctance ; for Mrs. FlAxman's few minutes, I imagined, might extend into a good many, if she got to talking. ml] 1 WORE. , not one had paid jrice Graeiii ; and ,d written, asking e me as life-long You cannot say me to leave Oak- spoke. le just now. I am rtainly not so soon [ said, with a light- hen?" e Oaklands. I am arned again to his *he letters safely aen I bethought me my pocket, and was ilrs. Flaxman inter- aom, Medoline, just jluctance ; for Mrs. ;ined, might extend I talking. THREE IMPORTANT LETTERS. 279 "I want to ehow the presents Mr. Bovyer has sent us from New York— one for each of us." She lifted the cover from a box on her stand, and handed me the most superbly-bound book I had ever seen. " Yours is the prettiest," she said, admiringly, as I turned over the leaves, looking at the engravings. "Don't you like it, dear ? " she asked, surprised that I was so silent over my prize. ^^ it Yes— if it had not come from Mr. Bovyer.' « Why, Medoline 1 not like a gift coming from one so kind and true as he is?" " I wish I had never seen him." I threw down the book and burst into tears. « Surely, Medoline, you have not fallen in love with him ? I should be so sorry, for he is not a marrying man." ,, "No, indeed," I cried, indignantly ; "but And then I stopped ; for what right had I to tell his secret? " Oh, Mrs. Flaxman, is it not dreadful to be young ? Men are such a trouble." " Why, my child, what is the matter? You act so strangely I do not understand you." " No? Well, I cannot explain. But won't you ask Mr. Winthrop, please, if I must keep this book?" « Why, certainly you must keep it. It would De rude to return Mr. Bovyer's gift." 980 MEDOLISE SELU'YN'S WORK. " But you will ask?" "Oh, yes, if yju insist; but ho will only smile, and say it is ouo of Modolinc's oddities." I W(!Ut to my room. 15 nt tho traces of iny tears must be removed, and tho dinner-bell was already ringing. However, at the risk of being late, I broke tho seal of my letter. I was getting terrilied lest it might bo another proi)osal of marriage from8on:o unoxi)ectod quarter; for, 1 relleeled, when misfor- tunes begin to come they generally travel in crowds; but this was not a love-letter. It read: "Deau Miss Selwyn: — I have been informed of your kindness of luuvrt and sympathy for all who are in distress, and therefore ani embohlened to come to you for help. If you would call f)U me to-morrow, at 3 P. M.,at Rose Cottage, Linden Lane, you would confer a lasting favor on a sorrowing sister. I am yours, very respectfully, " IIeumione Le Grande." P. S. — I must ask for perfect secrecy on your part, and that no mention whatever of ray name, or letter, be made at Oaklauds. I trust to your honor in the matter. H. L. I locked the letter up in my drawer and hast- ened to the dinner that certainly would not be kept waiting for me. I was hoping that the question about Mr. Bovyer's book would be asked and answered in my absence ; but was disappointed ; OliK. ,vill only smile, .itios." ices of iny tears )oll was already iiig lute, I broke ig toiriliecl lest riagc from somo tl, when misfor- ravel in crowds ; I'cad : been informed )alhy for all who emboldened to mill call f)U me ;e, Liiuleu Lane, an a sorrowiug [jE Grande." lecrecy on your er of ray name, I trust to your H. L. Irawer and hast- ouldnot be kept at the question be asked and s disappointed ; ,'?>^ 1 V%^. o^x^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) V ^ .&. ^^ #.^ ^c 1.0 I.I 11.25 2.2 1^ 2.0 U 111.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^^ ?V A.<*' V -'" ^ »i9s«^!M*fts»«««»y*sr:i!g?»' ><^^By«»5W»!9asgagaw ^'t llB Sja w a^M!WM^l8 *^^ -0 S>. :/. ^^ i CIHM/ICMH Mecrofiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques THREE IMPOliTANT LETTERS. 281 for just as Mr. Winthrop arose from the table, at the close of dinner, Mrs. Flaxman mentioned the arrival of the books, and whence they came. " It is quite profitable, chaperoning young ladies, you will find ; " he said, dryly. " But, Medoline does not wish to keep hers. She acted quite strangely about it ; and insists that I must ask you, if she shall keep it." "Mr. Bovyer would feel aggrieved if we re- turned his present. I think you must keep it," he said, turning to me. " Most young ladies I have known are proud to get keepsakes from your sex." " I hope Medoline is not going to be a regulation young lady." " Why, Mr. Winthrop, what has caused you to change your mind? You used to condemn me for being so very unconventional." " I have made the discovery that you have some- thing better in its stead," he said, quietly. I looked up quickly to speak n\y thanks, but kept silent. " Yes, Medoline is the only one of us that tries to do her duty by others. She has helped the poor more in the few months she has been here, than I have done in nearly twenty years." " But she confines her benefits to the poor and bereaved solely. She seems to forget the prosper- ous may be heavy-hearted," Mr. Winthrop sug- gested with a smile. :| 282 MEDOLINE SELWYN'8 WOBK. w ' 1 it" (' 1 I- "I do not intermeddle with that which lies beyond my skill to relieve. Any person can re- lieve poverty if they have money." " Possibly you are wise to confine your helpful- ness to the simpler cases of sorrow." " I think the griefs of the rich are mostly imag- inary and selfish. In this beautiful world, if we have our freedom, and health, and plenty of money, we are simply foolish to be down-hearted; only when death takes away our dear ones ; and after a time the pain he gives ceases to smart." "You are very practical, Medoliue, and look through spectacles dipped in sunshine." " Well, I believe she is right," Mrs. Flaxmau said, with an air of sudden conviction. '* We are not half thankful enough for our blessings and persist in wearing the peas in our shoes for pen- ance, when we might as well soften them like that wise-hearted Irishman. It would be a blessing if Medoline had medicine for other griefs than those poverty causes." I saw her cast a meaning look at Mr. Winthrop, which brought the color to my cheek, and set me to soberly thinking if I might not bring him sur- cease from bitter thoughts, and then it occurred to me, with all this commendation was there not grave danger of my getting uplifted unduly ? " It seems to me that you and Mr. Winthrop go to extremes in your estimate of me. First, you : WOBK. L that which lies iiy person can re- ifine your helpful- )W." 1 are mostly imag- tiful world, if we i plenty of money, >wn-hearted ; only r ones ; and after a smart." idoline, and look shine." t," Mrs. Flaxman iction. " We are )ur blessings and our shoes for pen- ten them like that Ld be a blessing if r griefs than those at Mr. Winthrop, cheek, and set me ot bring him sur- hen it occurred to as there not grave iduly ? Mr. Winthrop go )f me. First, you i.i THREE IMPORTANT LETTERS. 283 keep me so low in the valley of humiliation that I well nigh lose heart, and then you hoist me on a pedestal, making me grow dizzy with conceit. I suggest that we pass a law not to talk about each other at all." " But you cannot hope to be perfect unless wise friends point out your foibles," Mr. Winthrop as- sured me. " I have never expected to reach such a height. It would be so lonely for me, you know— no society of my own kind, save here and there a poor and humble soul," I said, wickedly. "Nevertheless, one should make the effort to stand on the top round of the ladder of human excellence." " It is a long ladder, and the climb is wearisome, and death soon interposes and ends our ambition," I said, wearily. " But you have such perfect assurance respect- ing the to-morrow of death, you must believe that excellence gained here will be so much capital to carry with you into that life ; but you implicit be- lievers very often voice your faith rather than live it," Mr. Winthrop remarked, with a touch of his accustomed sarcasm. " Mr. Bowen lives his quite as well as he talks it, but he is the nearest perfection of any human being I ever expect to meet." «That is Imrd on our set, Mrs. Flaxman. 284 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. •^1 i-i i r lU ,',i.i' if Medoline, it seems, lias fislied out of the slums a veritable saint, and handsome as he is good. If I remember right he is a widower." " Yes, certainly, he is the one she got the suit of clothes for when she was in New York." He turned to me abruptly and asked, "How old is he?" *' I have never asked him," I said mischievously, ♦♦ but he looks older than you." " Medoline, what are you saying ? He was a grandfather years ago." " And I am afraid that is an honor which Mr. Winthrop will never attain," I tried to say sym- pathetically. Mrs. Flaxman cast him a startled look ; but he smiled very calmly as if the words had merely amused him. Ml/ VORK. of the slums a he is good. If I e got the suit of i^ork." I asked, d mischievously, ng? He was a onor which Mr. ried to say sym- led look ; but he rds had merely CHAPTER XX. MBS. LB GBAOTJE. WAS impatient for the appointed hour to come when I was expected at Rose Cottage. I had tried to get further in- formRtion from Esmerelda respecting Mrs. Lo Grande ; but she seemed unwilling to say much about her, leaving me more mystified than ever. "You will know all pretty soon from her own lips, Miss, and it would cost me my place if Mr. Winthrop knew I was meddUng with what didn't concern me." " Mr. Winthrop is not a severe master. I think he interferes very little with our household mat- "But this is different; and please. Miss Sel- wyn, don't let on to a soul that I gave you that letter. Mrs. Le Grande said if I didn't take it some one else would ; and it was an easy way to earn a trifle." ! t f u' fi .1 I iiii 286 itELOLlNS SELWTN'a wouk. " But if there is anything wrong in the matter it is the hardest way in the world to get money," I said, perplexed at her words. Linden Lane lay back from Oaklands a mile or more, and led me on a road I had never traversed before, although I had often planned to take it on some of my exploring journeys. But it led away from the sea shore, and that probably was the reason I had hitherto neglected it. There was a strip of woodland belonging to the Oaklands estate through which a part of the road lay. There had been a recent fall of snow, and this was still clinging heavily to the trees, especially to the spruce and hemlocks, bringing strangely to mind the muffled, mysterious figures of the Sisters of Charity and Nuns, as I used to see them gliding about the streets of the old world cities. Here and there interspersed with the evergreens were beech, and maple, and other hardwood growths, with their graceful leafless branches stretching up like dumb pleading hands toward the pitiful sky. I grew so interested seeking out specially pic- turesque forest growths, and glimpses into the still woodland depths under the white snow wraith which I might come again to study more closely, and put on my canvas, that I so far forgot the busi- ness of the hour as to find myself a half hour after the appointment at still some distance from Linden Lane. Shutting my eyes resolutely on U tl n; h n o o t] ri n r y ii I f a t wonK. g in the matter it to get money," I aklands a mile or 1 never traversed ned to take it on But it led away 3robably was the it. There was a the Oaklands jf the road lay. low, and this was , especially to the ;rangely to mind 9f the Sisters of see them gliding )rld cities. Here evergreens were rdwood growths, les stretching up 1 the pitiful sky. ut specially pic- [impses into the trhite snow wraith idy more closely, ar forgot the busi- "a half hour after B distance from es resolutely on MRS. LE GRANDE. 2S7 the rarest bits of landscape caught now and then through a chance opening in the trees, I walked at my best speed along the drifted road. Esmerelda had described the cottage so minutely that I had no trouble in recognizing it. Once prtst the strip of woodland, a bend in the road brought me at once into a thick cluster of houses with a few linden trees bordering the street that had given to it its rather poetical and alliterative name. One house much more pretentious than tha rest, I at once recognized to be Rose Cottage. I rang the bell and was 80 quickly admitted, I concluded the tidy look- ing little maid had been postud at the door on the lookout for me. I gave her my card and inquired for Mrs. Le Grande ; a formality quite unnecessary, as she assured me she knew who I was and that the lady was already waiting for me. "Just come this way. She has f. parlor up- stairs ; and my I but its a stunner." I received the information in perplexed silence. But the little maid apparently did not look for en- couragement, for she continued chattering until the door of the " stunning " apartment was closed behind her. A bright fire was burning in the grate at my left. In the swift glance with which I took in all the appointmefnts of the room I acknowledged that the girl's description was correct. The walls were lined with pictures which I could see were gems ; rich Turkish rugs concealed the common 3i 11 1 ! 28d MEDOLtNE SELWrifa IVOBK. N>'*) H{p '1 wood floor ; while on brackets and stands were ornaments of rarest design and workmanship. I had only a few moments, however, to gratify my curiosity ; for a portiire at the farther end of the room was lifted, and a vision of female love- liness met ray view such as I had never seen be- fore. Probably the surroundings, and the unex- pected appearance of thin beautiful woman, height- ened the effect. She paused and looked at me intently. Instinct- ively I shrank into myself. She seemed to be in some swift, clear-sighted way taking my measure, and labeling the visible marks of my personality. Then she came graciously forward, her step re- minding me, in its smooth, gliding motion, of some graceful animal of tlje jungle that -might both fascinate and slay you. Her eyes were of that dark, velvety blue, that under strong emotion turns to purple, and when she chose could melt and appeal like a dumb creature's, whose only means of communicating their wants is through their eyes. The lashes were long and curved ; her complexion delicate as a rose leaf, with a fitful color vanishing and re-appearing in the peachy cheek apparently as she willed it. Her hair, a rare tint of golden auburn was wreathed around her head in heavy coils that reminded me of the aureoles the old masters painted about the bef>,u- tiful Madonna faces. Her mouth, I concluded, wa tee sh( far we fa( af mi W8 pe pa of ve fir W( ar SI hf le bi ai le le h) ind stands were vorkmanship. I r, to gratify my farther end of I of female love- l never seen be- i, and the unex- l woman, height- ently. Instinct- seemed to be in .ng my measure, my personality, rd, her step re- motion, of some hat -might both jlvety blue, that urple, and when &\ like a dumb imnnicating their lashes were long ate as a rose leaf, I re-appearing in le willed it. Her rn was wreathed it reminded me of d about the befuU- th, I concluded, MRS. LE anANDB. 289 was the one defect in tiie otherwise perfect face. The teeth were natural and purely white, but long, and sharp, reminding one in a disagreeable way of the fangs of an animal of prey ; the lips, a rich scarlet, were too thin, and tightly drawn for a judge of faces to admire ; the chin was clear-cut and firm— a face on the whole, I decided, that might drive a man, snared by its beauty, to desperation. There was passion and power both lurking behind the pearl-tinted mask. Her attitudes were the perfection of grace— ap- parently, too, of unstudied grace, which is the mark of the highest art in posing. She sat in a purple velvet easy-chair, whose trying color set off her fine complexion perfectly. Her voice was low and well modulated, but it had no sympathetic chords ; and therefore I could not call it musical or pleasing. She thanked me in very exaggerated terms for having responded to her appeal. I exclaimed, rather impulsively, in reply— " I expected to find the author of that pathetic letter in great distress, and came, hoping to relieve ; but I cannot be of any service here." I glanced around the luxuriously appointed room, and then let my eyes rest on her elaborate costume. She smiled, " You are young, and have not yet learned that rags and poverty seldom go hand in hand with the bitterest experiences of life." " That is the only kind of trouble I am sufB- t I I, > «90 MEVOLINE SELWrirs WORK. :i in oiently experienced to meddle with. For ioiaginary or abstract woe you should seek some older helper. I would suggest Mrs. Fliixraiin. She has more patience with refined mourners than 1." " Mrs. Flaxman could do me no good." Tears stood iu her eyes, makiug them more beautiful than ever, and quite softening my heart. " Won't you lay aside some of your wraps ? I shall feel then as if you will not desert me at any moment. The room is warm, and they are only an incumbrance." I complied, and removed my hat and fur cloak, which were beginning to make me uncom- fortably warm. She wheeled another easy-chair and bade me take that ; my eyes, grown suddenly keen, took in the fact that the velvet covering was suited to my complexion. "What artistic taste you must have when you are so fastidious about harmony in colors," I said, admiringly. " One might as well get all the possible conso- lation out of things. The time for enjoying them is short, and very uncertain." She drew a low ottoman and sat down close to me. " I have a long, sad story to tell you, and 1 want to be within touch of your hand. You will perhaps be too hard on me." She sat, her face turned partly from me, gazing intently into the fire. Perhaps she had a natural drc mi{ tlii pal hei thi sui dii sel Sh ok pr cri m( CM in ba w< fu pi tr ,^\; VORK. . For ioiaginary )iue older helper. She has more an 1." good." kiug them more tening my heart. your wraps ? I desert me at any d they are only ly hat and fur (lake me uncom- aother easy-chair , grown suddenly Ivet covering was t have when you n colors," I said, e possible conso- or enjoying them lat down close to to tell you, and 1 hand. You will ^ from me, gazing ihe had a natural MRS. LB QRANDK. 291 I dread of going over a chapter in her life she might wish had never been written. Meanwhile the wonder kept growing on me why this exquisite woman should come to mo for sym- pathy. A feeling of pride, too, began swelling my heart to think that I could be of use to others than the hungry and naked, while I thought of the surprising account I should have to give at the dinner-tuble that evening, of my adventure. My self-complacency was destined to a rude shock. She turned to me suddenly, and asked, "How old would you take me to be ? " I looked niy sur- prise, no doubt, but began directly to examine critically the face before me. " I want you to tell me the truth. We don't value flattery from our own sex ; at least, I do not." I could see no trace of time's unwelcome tooth in that smooth, ivory skin, as unwrinkled as a baby's face, while the rounded outlines and dimples would have graced a ddbutant<5. " You are a long time deciding," she said, play- fully— tlie color coming fitfully under my scrutiny. "I will hazard twenty, but you may be older." " You think not any younger than that ? " The curving lashes drooped and an entirely new ex- pression swept over the charming face. " Now you look almost a child," I exclaimed with surprise. " You are a mystery to me, and I won't try to guess any more, for it is pure guess work." ,:|-.( f4'\\ \ \ ' t f I'll & , ' I 114? WM 292 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. She laughed merrily. "You are greatly mis- taken. I was twenty-six yesterday." I may have looked incredulous, and she was very keen to read ray thoughts. " You do not believe me. Did you ever hear of a woman over twenty making herself out older than she was ? " " M" experience is but limited." I still believed that for some reason of her own she was deceiving me respecting her age. " When you hear my story your surprise will be that I do not look six and thirty, instead of a decade younger." Her next question was more startling than the fii-st. " How do you like Mr. Winthrop ? " I replied guardedly that I liked him very well. "Excuse me, but that is not a correct reply. No one that cares for him at jfll does so in that moderate fashion. They either love or hate him." " Have you ever known him intimately enough to be able to say how he is liked, or deserves to be?" She answered me by a low ripple of laughter. My perplexity wsvs increasing, but I quite decided this Hermione Le Grange, as she called herself, had not a very sad heart to get comforted. "Do you find Mr. Winthrop very amiable, in fact would you call him a lady's man ? " I paused to think carefully what answer I should fCtfiiW. 'fl WOBK. )U are greatly mis- rday." I may have iS very keen to read )id you ever hear of J herself out older ed." I still believed rn she was deceiving your surprise will be thirty, instead of a re startling than the , Winthrop?" liked him very well. not a correct reply, it jfll does so in that er love or hate him." m intimately enough liked, or deserves to w ripple of laughter. I, but I quite decided she called herself, had amforted. irop very amiable, in ly'sman?" ' what answer I should MRS. LE GRANDE. 293 give. " If he were a lady's man, probably before this he would have taken one for a wife." "You have only answered half of my question," she said so gently I could not resent it. "My guardian is very patient and indulgent with me. If he were more so I should find it hard to leave him some day." " You mean when the day of marriage comes?" " I have not thought anything of marriage yet. I mean, not seriously. Every young girl has her dreams, I suppose ; but mine as yet are very vague and unreal. At twenty-one I am my own mis- tress. Then probably my life of ease will come to an end." " Ah, you have dreams of a career. From what my servants tell me I concluded you were not one of our regulation, conventional young ladies." My cheeks flushed ; for this was a tender place for her to touch." "Is Mr. Winthrop pleased that you are so thoughtful of the poor, and so generous in your impulses ? " "Really, Mrs. Le Grande, you would make an excellent lawyer. I do not think I have had so many personal questions since I came to America. School girls forget themselves sometimes, when they are of a very inquisitive disposition." She looked me fully in the eyes as she said: ** You have been wonderfully patient and very cir- 1 > If/ M 294 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. cumspect. I am sure in his heart Mr. Wiuthrop respects you even if he is at times a trifle cavaUer in his behavior." Her eyes were still upon me with the innocent, chUd-like expression on her face I was beginning to understand and fear. I said very calmly: "He can be exceedingly fascinating when he chooses, and if he really cared for one, I cannot imagine anything he would hesitate to do for them, provided it was honorable. I could not conceive him stooping to a mean or unworthy action." " Mr. Winthrop will be flattered when I repeat your words." ♦' Then you know him ? " ^^ •* You will think so when you hear my story. if w WORK. it Mr. Wiuthrop J a trifle cavalier re still upon me ession on her face and fear. I said iingly fascinating Y cared for one, I lid hesitate to do ible. I could not lean or unworthy :ed when I repeat I hear my story." CHAPTER XXI. MBS. LB GRANDB'S 8T0BY. IID you ever hear that Mr. Winthrop was within one day of being married?" My surprise at first rendered me speech- less ; but at last I murmured, " No." " Then you have never heard the tragedy of his life. You have heard that for some reason he was embittered against our sex." " A mere hint." " So I should judge, or the rest would also have been told. Your acquaintance have been rema,rk- ably guarded. Well, I will tell you all about it." " I do not wish you to tell me. I think Mr. Winthrop desires I should never know the partio- ulars of that circumstance, eke Mrs. Flaxman would have told me." " You are very sensitive about your guardian. Women cannot afford such fine sense of honor, ill iL \ I I 111 296 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK Men do not treat us in that way. If they find we have a skeleton concealed somewhere, they will not rest until it is brought out into the glaring light, for eveiy evil eye to gloat on." " Not every man. Many of them would help us to conceal what gave us pain. I believe Mr. Win- throp is one of them. Then should I listen to what he wishes buried in oblivion ? " " It may be for his happiness that you should, dear; and my ^tory and his are, for awhile, the same." I had risen to put on my hat and cloak to get away from the temptation she pressed upon me ; but at her last words I sank back into the chair. " Can you be the woman he loved and was to marry ? " • "Would it surprise you very much if I said Yes?" "It would, and it would not." " Your words are ambiguous. I was told you were exceedingly frank and impulsive, but one cannot always believe the public verdict." I was silent. I recognized I had a clever woman to deal with, and for some reason she wished to use me for her own purpose, I was assured. She arose, and crossing the room disappeared through the tapestry portiSre. I watched her as she moved gracefully away, her long silken robe seeming to give additional height to her already tall figure. WORK. If they find we ewhere, they will into the glaring on." lem would help us [ believe Mr. Win- Id I listen to what that you shoidd, e, for awhile, the and cloak to get pressed upon me ; ick into the chair. loved and was to y much if I said , I was told you npulsive, but one 3 verdict." ad a clever woman son she wished to was assured. She sappeared through I her as she moved n robe seeming to already tall figure. MBS. LE GRANDETS STORY. 297 She presently returned, bringing a richly bound album, and laid it, open, on my knee I glanced at it, and saw my guardian's pictured face looking at me, brighter, happier than it had ever done m reality. ^^ " Does he look like that now ? I studied the picture before I answered. "His face looked nobler as I watched it last night while he was talking of some of his favonte authors. It is stronger now, though. Noble thoughts have matured the Unes that were then only imperfectly formed." "Does he admit you to his study and converse on his favorite themes?" she asked, the childlike expression vanishing suddenly from her face. " Yes." "Do you understand and enjoy what he says?" "I do not understand all he says. I am trying to lift myself to a nearer level with him." « Ah, you aim to be learned. His tastes must have greatly changed, if he admires such females. Her eyes fell, but I fancied there was a gleam in them not altogether pleasant to behold. I re- mained silent, not caring to explain it was Mr. Winthrop's wish that I should continue, to some extent, the work that had occupied so many years of my life. She turned the leaf of the album, and her own face looked out at me, not any more beau- '* 1 .J. m ' A 'I MKDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. tiful than now, but still as perfect as a poet's dream. " We had these taken the same day ! " She turned still another leaf and they sat together, she looking sweetly at me, but his oyes, I could fancy resting on her with a look in them I had never seen. " He had the artist destroy the negative, but I secured this one, he fancies the flames have swal- lowed them all. You will have no further scruples listening to his story ? " " Yes, I have scruples. Much as I would like tio hear it, I desire you to tell me nothing but what you feel certain he would be willing for me to hear. Otherwise I cannot look into his eyes without a feeling of guilt." " I did not think there was such a ridiculously conscientious woman on the earth. Believe me, you are formed after a very unusual pattern. But you must at least hear my story ; otherwise you cannot help me." "I have been waiting with what patience I could command for the last hour to hear it. I must be home before night-fall, and it is now approach- ing sunset." She turned partly away, thereby giving me the better opportunity to admire the perfect contour of face and neck, with the color coming and going fitfully as she talked. li h m I K I ORE. ;ct as a poet's lay!" and they sat I, but his oyes, look Id them I [legative, but I nes have swal- urther scruples i I would like thing but what for me to hear. Byes without a a ridiculously . Believe me, [ pattern. But otherwise you lat patience I bear it. I must now approach- giving me the erfect contour ling and going MRS. LE GRANDE'S STORY. 399 " Like you," she said, " I was an orphan, and like you I was very rich." I started with surprise. She looked at me in her keen, intuitive way. " What ! did you not know you were an heiress ? " " I have never had the curiosity to ask. Mr. Winthrop will explain everything at the proper time." *' An old-fashioned woman, truly, patterned after the immortal Sarah, who called Abraham her lord," she said, with a soft little laugh that angered me exceedingly. " The beginning of our destiny has been some-* thing alike— both orphans, and both rich beyond our utmost need. I too was educated on the other side of the sea, first in a quiet little English town, Weston-Super-Mer, where my grandmother lived, and afterward in Paris. If I had never gone to the latter place, I might not be sitting here com- pelling a scrupulous listener to hear my story." She was silent awhile, a half-suppressed sigh escaping her, over these bygone memories. She continued her story : «I was quick to learn, soon acquiring the accom- plishments necessary for a woman of the world to know ; and, finding my guardian easy to manage, I escaped from the restraints of the school-room much earlier than is usual, and plunged into the gayeties, first of Parisian, and afterward of New 300 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. *l St' 1 s || ,11 Avtm '^W'i York society. I became a belle from my finst ball, and was soon almost wearied with conquests that caused rae no effort. One evening I met Mr. Win- throp. My chaperone, the following day, gave me a detailed history of himself and fortune, and rec- ommended me to secure him for a husband. I resolved to bring him to my feet, reserving the privilege of accepting or not, as I chose. I subse- quently found, in order to meet him, it was neces- sary for me to forsake, occasionally, the ball-room, and to frequent, in its stead, the concert and lec- ture hall. By degrees I gained his notice, and the very diflBculty of winning him made the task all the more congenial. Like you, I developed a fondness for literature, and, in order the more quickly to gain the desired knowledge, I consulted diction- aries, encyclopaedias, and hired private tutors to cram me with poetry, history, and information gen- erally of art and its manufacturers. At first I could see he was more amused than fascinated at my shallow acquirements. But gradually ray per- sonal charms, rather than mental, conquered his proud reserve, and the ghmce of his eye came to express more than mere amusement at my exhibi- tions of knowledge, or cold admiration for the beauty I strove more than ever to heighten. If I found him hard to conquer, the exultation when my task was achieved was correspondingly great, Vhile I knew his judgment rebelled against giving 'I (. '^ORK. )m my finst ball, conquests that I met Mr. Win- ig day, gave me srtune, and rec- a husband. I , reserving the jhose. I subse- n, it was neccs- , the ball-room, oncert and lec- notice, and the ! the task all the )ped a fondness jore quickly to isulted diction- ivate tutors to iformation gea- rs. At first I ti fascinated at idually ray per- conquered his is eye came to it at my exhibi' iration for the heighten. If I sultation when ondingly great, '. against giving MRS. LE ORANDSra STORY. 301 I his love to one his inferior in those things he best esteemed. But, to skip a long bit of the story, we were engaged and the marriage day set ; but as our intimacy ripened, the conviction grew upo.i me that I should have a master as well as husband ; and I made the discovery, before very long, that the greater part of our time was to be passed at Oaklands, since the solitude best suited his liter- ary tastes. I knew very well that he would soon get absorbed in those pursuits from which I had been able to draw him for a brief time, and then I would be compelled to satisfy myself with the mild excitement of conjugal affection, housekeeping, and the insipid tea-drinkings for which Cavendish has been noted. Not very long after our engagement, I met, at a grand society ball, George Le Grande. He professed to have fallen in love with me at first sight, and his wooing had all the passionate ardor of a Southern nature; for he was born in the Sunny South, his father being a wealthy French planter. After my betrothed's somewhat Platonic love, his passionate worship was acceptable, and, as the hour of my pastoral life at Cavendish drew near, my fancy turned, irresistibly, towards the free, gay life Le Grande offered me. We had grown so intimate I confessed to him my repugnance to the mild joys awaiting me. Here I made my great mistake ; for, with his brilliant imagination, he drew charming pictures of what our life might be, tied It u 302 ilEBOLINE SELWTIPS WORE. I'fe if? m f teNsi to no particular spot, but free to roam, citizens of all lands. My trousseau was nearly completed ; but the choosing and trying on of fine gnrmentsdid not still the mutinous thoughts seething in my brain. One evening — shall I forget it in a thousand years? — while Mr. Winthrop was at Oaklands, overseeing some special preparations to do honor to the home- coming of his bride, I met Le Grande at a ball. He danced superbly, and he was my partner that evening in so many dances that my chaperone be- gan to look darkly at me ; while I saw many a meaning glance directed at us. But I was fancy- ing myself more in love with my gay partner than ever, and once, in a pause of the dances, when he whispered, 'If to-night would only last for- ever, with you at my side, I should' be content,' " I came swiftly to the conclusion that life without George Le Grande would be tasteless, and resolved then and there to yield to his entreaties and fly from my solemn bridegroom. But my mind was wavering, and I kept putting it off until the very night before my marriage morn that was to be. We left the city by a midnight train, and after travelling until morning we stopped at a country village — ^really I forget the name, il 1 ever knew it — and were married in a little country church by a dull, old minister who regarded us suspiciously all the time he was performing the ceremony. I was sure he thought us a runaway couple, but that did I WORE. ) roam, citizens of rly completed ; but 16 garments did not liing in my brain. a thousand years ? i,klands, overseeing lonor to the home- Grande at a ball. ,s my partner that my chaperon e be- ile I saw many a But I was fancy- r gay partner than the dances, when lid only last for- lould' be content,' n that life without eless,and resolved entreaties and fly But my mind was off until the very I that was to be. it train, and after jped at a country 5, il 1 ever knew it untry church by a us suspiciously all ceremony. I was >uple, but that did MRS. LE GRANDE'S STORY. 303 not trouble me so much as that obscure marriage with a heavy-looking pair brouglit in from a cot- tage near at hand to witness the ceremony. I kept contrasting it with the stately ceremony that was to have taken place nearly at the same hour, in old Trinity, with the organ pealing forth the wedding march, the rush of guests and sight-seers, orange blossoms and perfumes, and all the bewildering vanities of a fashionable wedding. Before I had signed my maiden name for the last time, I began to regret my rash step, and ere the month was ended the thorns of my ill-advised sowing were springing up around me. We were neither of us so constituted as to make the best of a bad bargain, and our married life had scarce begun when we began magnifying each other's failings, and soon our brief passion had burnt itself out. Ah, me I with what regret I used to look back to this quiet town, and the stately calm of Oaklands, after one of our vulgar quarrels. I learned too soon that my husband was a gambler, and that my fortune had been a more coveted prize than myself; but fortunately, neither of us could touch anything but the interest until my eldest child should come of age. So often in my free-hearted days we had made merry over my father's ridiculous will I Now how T thanked him for his wise forethought while my husband stormed because it was so far beyond his reach I We might have lived in all my accus- ■:; - V'^ 8M MEDOLINE aKLWTN'a WOBK. tomed Btyle on the interest if my husband had been just ; but now, instead of sumptuous apparel I had to make the best of garments bought before my marriage, while cheap hotels took the place of my former elegant surroundings. My one passion- ate desire was to be free from this hated union and many a time, no doubt, I was a murderess in my heart in my longing to see him dead. At last my wish was granted. He was brought home to me one night, a pistol-shot through his heart, received in a low gambling hell. I did not trouble to inquire the particulars. He has been dead a year. I have returned to America— for, at the time of his death, we were in Europe. I have waited a decent time ; and now, can you guess what has brought me to Cavendish?" I shrank away from her when she turned towards me, a gracious smile on her face. " You are silent. Is it a hopeless errand I have come on, think you? " " If you have come to seek Mr. Winthrop's par- don, I think it is •" " You do not realize my influence over him. I could bend him to my will like the merest child." I opened the album which still lay on my knee. " You must not expect to meet the same man you knew here. He has changed— matured since then — if I can judge from his face." " His heart, I am convinced, is unchanged. He is not one to forget the one passion of his life. You ha mi pc be I< or st h( d( cc w tl ee fc ni m U m n 81 . L 'onK. y husband had nptuous apparel \ bought before »ok the place of My one passion- lated union and lurderess in my ,d. At last my ;ht home to me heart, received rouble to inquire a year. I have ime of his death, 1 a decent time ; brought me to B turned towards " You are silent, on, think you? " Winthrop's par- ice over him. I le merest child." lay on my knee. e same man you itured since then unchanged. He 1 of his life. You MRS. LE ORANDS'S STORY. m have not gauged the depths of his character. Ah. me 1 that I should have flung such a man away I " I made no reply, seeing she was convinced of her power ; but, witli all her maddening grace and beauty, I kept the hope still that she would fail. I could fancy Mr. Winthrop trampling ruthlessly on the strongest pleading of his heart sooner than stoop to the degradation of a second time asking her to be his wife. " You have been thinking it all out, and have decided there is no chance for me." ♦' How do you know ? " I asked, startled by her correct guess. »*Your face is a very open page. Be careful when you get to love a man, which as yet I do not think you have ever done, lest your secret may too easily be discovered. Men usually care very little for what costs them no trouble." My face flushed hotly, but I made her no reply. "I expected you to flash back that you were never gfoing to fall in love. It is the way with most unsophisticated young people." " If I should, and my love is returned, I will be faithful to any vows I may make." " My dear friend, you are too inexperienced to make such rash promises. You !:> not know what mutinous elements are slumbering In your heart." " God help me to have principle enough to smother them if they are there and get wakened." 20 1 1 :ii m MEDOLINS SELWYN'S WOR^. Si llliMtlkini I >- J I'M .Si 3' I rose to go, as night w.^js rapidly falling. " I can stay no longer and so far as my helping you is concerned, 1 have been summoned uselessly," I said, coldly. " No, indeed ; I have heard that you were very pure minded, and see the public estimate of your character is correct. I want you to teach me to be like you, true and good." She looked into my eyes with such a guileless ex- pression that, for an instant, I thought she might be tired of her old, heartless life, and long to be better. I stood looking with some perplexity into the fire, scarce knowing what to say ; but, turning my eyes suddenly, I saw a mocking gleam pass over her face. " You would find it very tame patterning after I would advise you to seek some higher me. ideal — one more worthy yoiu , iiperior powers." I bowed and was turning towards the door. "Just one moment longer — won't you come again ? I have a favor to ask of you, but the moments have slipped away so rapidly I have not had time to say all I want. Tell me, do you not think I have sinned past all forgiveness, and should become an outcast from Oaklands and its master? Is that the old-fashioned Christianity the Bible teaches ? " ♦• I cannot say that it is not." ** Do you not say every day ' Forgive us our pidly falling. so far as my helping ummoned uselessly," I that you were very ►lie estimate of your ou to teach me to be ;h such a guileless ex- thought she might be and long to be better, •plexity into the fire, but, turning my eyes gleam pass over her ame patterning after jO seek some higher . tiperior powers." I rds the door, sr — won't you come ask of you, but the JO rapidly I have not Tell me, do you not )rgiveness, and should lands and its master? hristianity the Bible t." day ' Forgive us our i1 MRS. LH GRAKt)X'a STORY. 807 trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us ? ' " *' Yes. But the one who has done the wrong is commanded to do his or her part also, to bring forth fruits showing their repentance." " Am I not about to do that when I humble my* self, as I shall do at the first suitable opportunity, to that proud man ? " " Are you not suing for more than that ? Have you come here merely to be forgiven ? " "You must not turn inquisitor. I have not, however, offended against you, therefore you will corae to see me again. Shall we say to-morrow? I seem to feel as if Oaklands and Mr. Winthrop were brought near to me when you are present." " I cannot promise to come again this week, at least." " Shall we say next Monday tlien ? But it seems such a long time to wait. I was not trained to patience in childhood, and I find it a difficult task, learning it now." " Unless something unforeseen should happen to prevent, you may look for me on Monday next." I promised, feeling a sort of pity for her in her lonely condition. " Just one word more. Your guardian, they tell me, does not attend church regularly." " Mr. Winthrop does not profess to be a religious man." i.i rt 308 MEDOLINE SELWTirS WORK, fee ' ^1 " Could you not influence him to a better life ? Have you ever asked him to accompany you to church ? " Certainly not. He is a better judge than I as to his duty in the matter." " I do not think so. I fear he is drifting very far from his boyhood' s teachings. His mother was a perfect woman, so far as I have been able to learn." I looked my surprise ; for I had not expected to hear such words from her lips. " You must not judge me so harshly," she said, with gentle reproach. " I hope I am not quite so bad as you think." "I am very glad you are interested in Mr. Winthrop, for other than selfish reasons," I said, bluntly. She bowed her head meekly. " You will try to influence him then in the matter of church going and other pure endeavors — won't you ? " " I will try," I promised, rather uncertainly. " And begin at once." " Yes. I have given you the promise and usually keep my word." " Then good-bye until next week." The lamps were lighted when I passed along the oak walk that was my nearest approach home to Oaklands, and the fact that I had broken my pro- mise to Mr. Winthrop never again to remain out WORK. to a better life? Bcompany you to r judge than I as ! is drifting very His mother was Bive been able to lad not expected larshly," she said, I am not quite so aterested in Mr. 1 reasons," I said, " You will try to r of church going b you ? " 3r uncertainly. romise and usually jek." I passed along the approach home to ad broken my pro* 'ain to remain out MBS. LE GRANDE'S STORY. 309 alone after night filled me with alarm and self- reproach. I succeeded in gaining the house unperceived and was in abuudaut time for dinner, which I feared might have been served. ': i ^.^4r^ ^ m-t^ i^^-^' CHAPTER XXII. THE CHANGED HEART. HEN I entered the softly illumined dining- room, I was surprised to find Mr. Winthrop standing near the fire, and gazing into it with a pre-occupied expression. Mrs. Flaxman was sitting in her favorite corner, a book lying open on her knee, her ej'es fixed on Mr. Winthrop somewhat anxiously. Instinctively I felt some- thing unusual had disturbed their serenity— the sympathetic influences about me in the air which most of us know something about, acquainted me with the fact. I was almost beside Mr. Winthrop when he began to say, "Medoline must not know"— the sentence was left unfinished, for Mrs. Flaxman seeing me said, abruptly, "Why, Mr. Winthrop, here is our runaway." He turned towards me, a startled look in his eyes. THE CHANGED UEART. 311 I. KT. Ilumined dining- td Mr. Winthrop i gazing into it Mrs. Flaxman sr, a book lying n Mr. Winthrop ly I felt some- ir serenity — the in the air which , acquainted me e Mr. Winthrop )line must not inished, for Mrs, our runaway." look in his eyes. «'Have you been out?" he asked, with some sur- prise at her remark. " Yes," I looked at him with a pathetic interest never felt before. "Visiting your Mill Road pensioners?" he said, with a peculiar gesture, as if trying to rid himself of some unpleasant reflection. " Not to^iay, I do not go there every time I am out." "No, indeed, Medoline does not confine her kindness to those poor folk alone," Mrs. Flaxman interposed. " You do not seek for the sorrowful elsewhere, I hope?" "The heavy-hearted are not confined to that locality alone, Mr. Winthrop." "You include those also in your ministries of mercy," he said, with that rare smile which strongly reminded me of a bright gleam of sunshine falling on a hidden pool. " I am not so vain as to think I can reach their case. After I have experienced the ministry of sorrow, I may touch sad hearts and comfort them." " You are not anxious to suffer in order to do this. Remember, misery sometimes hardens." " If we take our miseries to God, He can turn them into blessed evangels," I replied softly. "Where did you learn that secret, Medoline?" " It was Mr. Bowen who taught me. God left I m ;ii w 312 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORE. him in the darkness, and then gave him songs in the night— such grand harmonies, his life became like a thanksgiving Psalm." " I hope you are not going to indulge in cant, Medoline. It does very well for poor beggars like them ; but for the enlightened and refined it is quite out of place." "The very noblest specimens of humanity who have cUmbed to the utmost peaks of intellectual excellence thought as Mr. Bowen does ; as I hope to think— God helping me, as I do think," I said, with a strange gladness coming into my heart as if the old, hard heart had been suddenly changed and made clean for the Master's entrance. " Poor little girl, I wish you had something more tangible than illusions to rhapsodize over." My eyes fiUed with such happy tears as I lifted them to him, standing at his side. " If you could only trust God, believe in Him as Mr. Bowen does, you would find every other delight in life illusive, compared with the joy He would give you." " Child, is that your own experience ? " " Yes," I murmured softly. He turned and left the room abruptly, I went to Mrs. Flaxman, and, kneeling beside her, my head on her knee— a posture we both enjoyed— I anxiously asked: "Have I angered Mr. Win- throp?" " No, dear, he was not angry, for I was watching 1 WOItE. ive him songs in s, his life became ) indulge in cant, poor beggars like and refined it is )f humanity who :s of intellectual L does ; as I hope Jo think," I said, I to my heart as if 3nly changed and nee. I something more ze over." ' tears as I lifted " If you could Mr. Bowen does, it in life illusive, give you." ience ? " jruptly, I went beside her, my both enjoyed — I fered Mr. Win- r I was watching TUK CHANGED HEART. 313 him ; but you did what I have not seen any one do to him for a good many years. You touched his heart ; 'and a little child shall lead them,' " she murmured so softly, I scarce could catch the words. " I am not a little child, Mrs. Flaxman," I re- monstrated. " Your are in some ways, darling. Your mother's prayers for her children have been answered. Those God has abeady taken are safe ; and you are one of His little ones whose angel one day shall behold His face in joy." " I am glad my mother prayed for us; God is so sure to answer a mother's prayers. I suppose it id because they are really in earnest. But did she ask anything special ? " " That you might be kept pure from the world's pollution, and get what was really for your good. Her letters to Mrs. Winthrop were full of this: They are all preserved among Mr. Winthrop's papers, and some day he will give them to you." " She was a Christian, I think, like Mr. Bowen, —one who really had a hold on God." ^ I never knew one so unspotted from the world. I too shall call her mother if I meet her in the Heavenly places; for it was she brought me to Jesus." " Mrs. Flaxman, is it easy to come to Him, — to be His disciple ? " ■J r .;V' ' 314 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK, " So easy, the way-faring man, (hough a fool, need not find it too difficult." " I believe Christ has said to me as He did to the Magdalene: 'Daughter, thy sins, which are many are all forgiven thee.' Is it not grand to be His child ? There is nothing in the world I want so much as to do His will." " You stepped out of your way, Medoline, to help others, and they have done more in return than you gave," she said, the teai-s filling her eyes. *' I might not have found Christ for years, but for Mr. Bowen — perhaps never," I added with a shudder. The dinner bell ended our little fellowship meet- ing by the firelight. Mr. Winthrop came and we took our places at the table, the dinner going on in the same precise fashion as if there were no such thing as glad, or breaking hearts. There was very little conversation ; and dinner ended, Mrs. Flax- man and I were left alone directly. I longed to ask what it was Mr. Winthrop decided I must not know ; and the mere fact of his so wishing deter- red me from asking. But I felt convinced it was in some way connected with Hermione Le Grande. Neither could I confess to Mi-s. Flaxman that I had only an hour or two before heard from her own lips the terrible wrong she had done him, or her plainly expressed determination to win him back once more. WORK. hough a £ool, need me as He did to y sina, which are it not grand to be tlie world I want Medoline,to help in return than you (ler eyes. ■ist for years, but ' I added with a e fellowship meet- rop came and we dinner going on here were no such There was very snded, Mrs. Flax- itly. I longed to cided I must not so wishing deter- convinced it was nione Le Grande. Flaxman that I ard from her own ione him, or her to win him back THE CHANGED HEART. 315 4 Usually an excellent sleeper, I lay that night finding sleep impossible, and counting the quarter hours as the great hall clock rang them out in the still space. I made the discovery, too, in the solemn hush of the night, when thought grows most active and intense, that notwithstanding his coldness and positive cynicism, I cherished for my guardian in the short time I had been with him an affection stronger than I had ever felt for any one since I had lost my two intensely-beloved parents — a loss that had embittered the otherwise happy period of girlhood. I had never realized until that night how much he was to me. Pity, perhaps, for the bitter pain that had so changed his whole nature, may have awakened me to the fact; but still there was an inexplicable charm about him that even merry-hearted, trifling Hu- bert felt, and forced his unwilling regard. I shrank with sudden pain from the mere thought of seeing him married to Hermione Le Grande ; but instinctively feeling that his was one of those still, changeless natures which never outgrows a master passion, and recalling her beauty and grace, I could only commit him to the sure care of the God whom he affected to believe does not take cognizance of human joys or griefs. With this there came such a sense of peace and security, that my mind grew calm ; and sleep, that soothes every heartache, brought its benison. The next day I felt i 316 MEDOLINE SELWYirs WOUK. certain both from Mrs. Flaxman's manner and Mr. Winthrop's, that some disturbing element was in the air ; and finding Mrs. Flaxman more inclined to solitude than society, after my forenoon's work was ended— for wliat with the reading Mr. Win- throp appointed, and the time appointed by myself for painting, the entire morning until luncheon I found quite short enough. I started for Mre. Blake's. I found her in a very happy mood. The revival was still progressing in the Beech Street church, and Esmerelda, from day to day, had been telling me how happy Mr. Bowen was, and how some folks liked to hear him speak and pray better than any preacher in town. Now Mrs. Blake gave me particulars that the dress-loving Es- meralda had failed to note. " Dan'el and me have been oneasy about the way we've lived ever since Margaret died," she said, after we had been chatting a while about the meetings, and Mr. Lathrop, the pastor of Beech Street church, and its late on- goings. Dan'el especially felt as if there wa'n't any chance for him ; but since Mr. Bowen has got out to the meetings, he's been a powerful help. It seemed as if he jest knew how the Lord looked on us. Night afore last I went to meeting with my mind made up to stay there until I found if there was any mercy for me. I mind how I felt as I walked along the road. The snow was deep, and the night cold, and everything seemed that WORK. i manner and Mr. g element was in lan more inclined y forenoon's work reading Mr. Win- pointed by myself until luncheon I started for Mre. lappy mood. }ing in the Beech from day to day, r Mr. Bowen was, ar him speak and town. Now Mrs. he dress-loving Es- )an'el and me have e lived ever since ) had been chatting Mr. Lathrop, the and its late on- Eis if there wa'n't Ir. Bowen has got powerful help. It T the Lord looked t to meeting with •e until I found if I mind how I felt 'he snow was deep, thing seemed that THE CHANOED HEART. 317 desolate— my ! I wished I'd never been bom. I don't know what made me, but I looked right up into the sky all at onct ; the stars were shining bright, and I thought if God could keep all theni hanging there on nothing, year after year, he could keep me in the place He wanted for me, if I d only agree to let Him; and right there I stood stock still in the snow and said, ' Lord, I'm a poor unlarnt creatur', but I want you to keep me where you want me, the same as you do the stars. 11 take the poorest place in earth or Heaven, if youU only adopt me as your own.' I meant what I said, and the Lord just then and there sealed the bar- gain ; and my ! but I went on to the meeting that happy I didn't know if I was on earth or up among the holy ones, who are forp ver praising God. Dan'el had got much the same blessing some time ago, and when we came home he took down the Bible and prayed. The preacher tells the heads of families if they want to keep their religion they must build an altar as the patriarchs did. Re- ligion is the same now as then." Mrs. Blake stopped only for want of breath. « And are you as happy now as you were that nig^t?" ^. ^, ^ " Everybit ; and so is Dan'el. It's something that stays with one ; and the longer you have it, and the more you have, the better content you are. The night I got converted, when we come home from 1: T 818 MEtOLlNE BELWTirs WORK. meeting, Dan'el sot talking more'n he usually does ; for he's a powerful still man, and, at last, he says: 'If Marget had only lived till now, she might have got the blessing too ; ' and then he buret right out crying. But he's never mentioned her sence, only last night, in meeting, he said, if we had friendc» in the other world that we weren't sure were in glory, we mustn't let that keep us sorrowful, but jest work all the harder for them that was still in the world. I didn't think Dan'el could be so changed. I heard him try to sing this morning; but, dear, his singing is something ter'ble. He has no more ear than a cow. Maybe the Lord turns it into good singing — he looks at the heart, and perhaps it sounds better up among the angels than them grreat singers does that gets a forten for one night's singing." "I am sure it does," I said, emphatically. "He will make splendid music by-and-by, when he stands with the Heavenly chi " " " I reckon he'll most stop then to hear his own voice, for he does dote so on singing, and feels so bad that he can't do better." " Singing and making melody in your hearts. You can do that now, Mrs. Blake, and with God's help, I hope to be able to do the same." " What ! have you been thinking of these things too. Miss Selwyn ? " " Yes. For a good while I have been struggling J WORK. lore'n he usually [in, and, at last, he 'ed till now, she ' and then he burst er mentioned her ig, he said, if we that we weren't let that keep us 3 harder for them idn't think Dan'el im try to sing this ng is something \r\ a cow. Maybe singing — he looks sounds better up p'eat singers does J singing." nphatically. '* He -and-by, when he a to hear his own iging, and feels so ly in your hearts, ce, and with God's I same." ing of these things bve been struggling THE CBANOED HEART. 319 a with a burden of sin that sometimes nearly crushed me ; but it is gone now. Last night the joy of pardon came just like a flush of light into my heart." " Thank the Lord for that. There's been some praying very earnest for you. They'll be glad their prayers are answered." " I can never repay what some of you people out here have done for me." "Well, dear, you've done for us. The minister said, ' under God we were indebted to Mr. Bowen for this revival, and there's already nigh unto fifty converted. He couldn't have come to the meet- ings if you hadn't clothed him ; and now, you've done still more, and got him his eyesight, he's twice as useful. 'Twould have done you good to see him in meeting the first Sunday after he come back. He'd look up at the pulpit, and then he'd look at the people ; and it seemed as if he could hardly sense where he was — he was that glad and happy. The preacher said, in the evening, we'd have a praise meeting after the sermon ; and sure enough we had ; for when Mr. Bowen got talking about what the Lord had done for him, and what he had been to him in sorrow and blindness, before I knew it, I was crying like a baby— me that had my eyesight, and health — and never thanked the Lord for them. When I got my eyes wiped I took a look around, and there sot Dan'el a I :»• 320 MEDOLINE 8ELWTN'a WOIK. im blowing his nose, and mopping his face, as if it was a sweltering day in August; and then when I looked further, there was nothing much to be seen but pocket-handkerchiefs. That was the beginning of the revival ; and if you hadn't got Mr. Bowen out to meeting, there mightn't have been any. So, after the Lord, I lay it all to you." " No, Mrs. Blake. I was scarcely equal in this matter to those poor souls who helped Noah build the Ark and were drowning for want of its shelter. They labored harder than I ; for what I gave was more from impulse, and it was a pleasure." " I guess God don't make mistakes paying folks for what they do, and maybe it's jest as well not to have a great consait of yourself ; but you're the first one I've heard comparing themselves to Noah's Ark builders." I turned the conversation somewhat abruptly. •* What is Mr. Bowen doing now ? " " He's taken on in Belcher's Mill, working at the books." " I suppose they are getting along nicely at Mrs. Larkum's now." " Yes, indeed. She was complaining after meet* ing last night, she'd only seed you onct since her father got back, to have a good talk with you." " Shall we go there now, for a little while ? " " I'd be glad to, and she'll be pleased to see ua coming, I know." 2V'S WOIK. g his face, as if it was ;; and then when I iiing much to be seen hat was the beginning dn't got Mr. Bowen n't have been any. I to you." icarcely equal in this lio helped Noah build or want of its shelter. ; for what I gave was 8 a pleasure." uistakes paying folks >e it's jest as well not irself ; but you're the ring themselves to somewhat abruptly. T now ? " er's Mill, working at ting along nicely at mplaining after meet* I you onct since her 3d talk with you." )r a little while ? " be pleased to see ua THE CHANGED HEABT. 321 Mrs. Blake was very soon in readiness, we started out into the dull, cold air, scarce notic- ing that the wind was blowing raw and chill from the east, and the soughing wind betokening a storm. While I sat in Mrs. Larkum's tidy room, listening to her voice, I kept contrasting her with the ele- gantly dressed, beautiful woman whose face and gestures I was studying the previous day. The one nurtured in the shady places of life, and inured to poverty and hardship ; the other priv- ileged with the best opportunities for culture, and high intellectual and social development ; and yet with vision grown suddenly clear, I could detect a refinement of the soul, and true womanly honor in Mrs. Larkum that the other lacked. I was glad to notice that Mrs. Larkum's tears had ceased to flow so profusely. There was an occasional moist- ening of the eye from sheer joy ; for she too had got her experience brightened of late. She was finding it easier to trust in the Lord, and be glad in Him now that she had got a stronger arm than her own to lighten her burdens. As we talked I found they were blessed with an honest independence of spirit that praved them a better class than many who receive help. " Father has begun to lay by money to pay you," she announced, with evident pleasure. "He has already paid me a thousand-fold. I never want any other recompense." 21 i ^1, ■I tj -■ !.;r 1, S22 MEDOLINS SELWrira WORK. Hi'' i " I do not think Le will be satisfied to let that debt go unpaid. He was always so particular to owe no man anything. In our worst poverty he would never let me go in debt." "Then I can never repay him," I said, sorrow- fully, "for I try, like him, to be independent; but I suppose there are blessings no money can ever repay." "Why, every time he opens his eyes in the morn- ing, he says his first thought is to thank the Lord, and his next is a prayer that you may get your reward." "His prayer has been answered," I murmured, with tear-filled eyes. " Poor father was always a great man for prayer ever since I can recollect. Sometimes I used to doubt if there was anything in religion when I saw how poorly his prayers were answered ; but I have since learned that the Lord does hear prayer, and that He answers in the best possible way, though when we are suffering it seems hard to wait pa- tiently His good time." "But if it is hard for a little spell on earth, there's a long while to have our wants satisfied when we get where He is in Heaven," Mrs. Blake said, in her calm, strong way. " Dear Miss Selwyn, Heaven seemed very close to us in our meeting last night. I thought of you, and wished so much you were with us." 9 WORK. atisfied to let that ya so particular to r worst poverty he Lm," I said, sorrow- I independent; but 10 money can ever s eyes in the mom- to thank the Lord, you may get your 3red," I murmured, reat man for prayer imetimes I used to religion when I saw Lswered ; but I have es hear prayer, and ossible way, though IS hard to wait pa- btle spell on earth, our wants satisfied eaven," Mrs. Blake 1 seemed very close ight. I thought of «rere with us." (! " THE CHAirOSD BEABT. 8Sd '' I wish your father would pray that I might have the opportunity to come. The difficulties in the way just now seem insuperable, but with God's help they could be removed." " Yes, indeed. I've knowed folks that was a hurt to Christians took out of the world uncom- mon sudden," Mrs. Blake remarked, with a very meaning nod of her head. *' I do not want Mr. Winthrop to die," I said, with quick alarm. ** If I had to choose, I think I would rather die myself." *'I didn't know you liked him that well. I reckoned he was hard to please." " I acknowledge that he is ; but then a word of praise from him is worth a great deal," I frankly replied. "I believe you are in the way to win his ap- proval. A pure, unselfish life must gain the respect of every honest soul, soon or late," Mis. Larkum said, with gentle assurance. There was no more said on the subject. But the thought that Mr. Bowen was praying for me made me feel more confident that everything would turn out best for me, and for those also in whom I was most interested. 1 .:t ill 1 CHAPTER XXni. THE EKGOUNTBR AT ST. MABK'S. DID not forget through the week Mrs. Le Grande's eagerness for Mr. Winthrop to attend church, and although not permit- ting myself, if possible, to impute false motives to others, I concluded it was not anxiety for his spir^ itual well-being that prompted the. desire on her part. However I resolved to ask him, and was very anxious that- he should grant my request. The day dawned bright and clear, one of those hopeful days with promise of the coming summer in the clear shining of the February sun. At break- fast Mr. Winthrop spoke of the rare loveliness of the morning ; the blue of the sky, soft and tender as a mother's eye, with here and there a fleecy cloud such as painters love to put on their can- vas. Away to the south, the sea was dimpling and sparkling in tan thousand broken ripples, with here and there a brave vessel sailing away over the cold, heaving waters. ^r , ii L THK ENCOUNTER AT ST. MARK'S. 326 ni. 7. mark's. 1 the week Mrs. Le r Mr. Winthrop to though not pennit- be false motives to nxiety for his 8pii> the. desire on her ask him, and was grant my request. ;lear, one of those le coming summer larysun. Atbreak- e rare loveliness of ky, soft and tender and there a fleecy > put on their can- I sea was dimpling )mken ripples, with dling away over the Mr. Wintlirop seemed in more genial mood than he had been for a week ; and when he left the table I followed him to the door, where he stood gazing with eyes trained to tsike in intelligently the charming scene. I stood silent, entering in a very half-hearted manner into his keen enjoyment of the picture painted by God's own hand, spread out before us. » It is no use for a man to attempt copying that living, throbbing scene, nor yet to describe it," he said, with an air of dissatisfaction. " To copy would be easy, compared with creating it," I suggested timidly. " Yes ; but when, and by whom done ? That is the question that maddens one," he answered after a long pause. " The Bible says the same hand that was nailed to the cross on Calvary created it. ♦ By whom also the worlds were made,' " I murmured. " Ah, if we only had some evidence of that ; but it is all dark, dark, on the other side of death, and on the other side of life too. Whence came we— whether do we tend? What power sent Sirius and all that galaxy of suns marching serenely through space ? We, in our little planet-ship, fall- ing into line, going like comets one day, and then vanishing ; but the worlds moving on unconscious of our departure, and yet some power controls them and us. Medoline, to have my fiiith anchored ■5\- 1 ■i ' 1 I, ■'*! I § IP' I 326 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WOBB. as yours is, to a beneficent, all-povverful God, I would be willing to die this instant if I might be absorbed into Him, or be taken into his presence forever. You who can calmly accept your religion as you do the atmosphere you inhale, should live as far above earthly passions and entanglements, as those light clouds hangfing in yonder vault me above the earth ; nay, rather like the stars which only touch us by that law of the universe that holds the remotest stars together."* " Have you tried any more earnestly to find the God of the Bible than you have done Boodh or Vishnu, or other man-created deities ? " I asked. He turned to me in his keen, incisive way : — ♦' No, Medoline, I cannot say that I have — not since boyhood, at least, when my mother, who loved the God whom Israel served so indifferently, en- deavored to train my rebellious will to His service." "You have lived all these years Godless?" "In plain English, yes." " Then that great star, Sinus, you just spoke of, and all the other suns, and their systems, as well as the humblest created things, have fulfilled the pur- poses of their Maker's will, save the last supreme effort of His power — man, originally made a 'little lower than God.' I wonder that I honor you as I do, when you deny the existence of my God and Saviour." He looked down at me with a gentleness at WORB. [-powerful God, I ant if I might be into his presence cept your religion nhale, should live id entanglements, I yonder vault are ze the stars which the universe that f.'* rnestly to find tlie e done Boodh or ities ? " I asked, n, incisive way : — < I have — not since lOthe'r, who loved I indifferently, en- 'i\\ to His service." re Godless?" you just spoke of, systems, as well as e fulfilled the pur- I the last supreme ally made a 'little .t I honor you as I e of my God and li a gentleness at I THE ENCOUNTER AT 8T. MARK'S. 327 which I was surprised, and his next question did not lessen this. "Would you be terrified if death, in some form, were suddenly to seize you, dismissing you from your present environments into the unclothed state, could you trust, to the uttermost, this mighty Beu»g whose friendship you so confidently claim?" I paused before replying. Certainly death just then did not seem welcome. I loved life and enjoyed it, and longed for its fuller experiences. As 1 studied his question, there came a fear that, since I clung with such desire to life, I could not be fitted for higher places. No doubt he saw the pained, uncertain look on my face, which his question had caused. , , „ j " If God wished for me to leave this world, i said slowly, » no doubt he would give me the nec- es a^ grac'; and fortitude to do so patiently ; bu I do not want to die now, unless it is His will. I love my life, and would like to serve ^7 S^^^^ tion for a good many yeare. There are such grand opportunities to be useful to others. "That is a more healthy type of piety than I would have given you credit for. I am glad you Trenotanxifustoleaveus. The Superior powere are apt to humor such fancies m the young, and remove them from this distasteful world. I saw that a lighter mood was ^^^]^S \V^^^ of his more serious one of a few minutes before, 828 MEDOLINE aELWTN'8 WOBK. and I hastened to make ray request. " Won't you nome to church with me this bright morning, Mr. Winthrop?" He looked at me with that clear, honest gaze that always seemed to penetrate my deepest thoughts. " Why do you make that request ? You have never asked me before." A guilty blush crimsoned my face, and I mur- mured something about wanting him to go particu- larly that morning, and then hastily entered the house. As I put on my bonnet and cloak for church, I made up my mind never to make a request of him again without being able to give a good, honest reason for it. The bell of St. Mark's began ringing as I went down the broad staircase. I paused a moment at the library door, and then went on to the drawing, room, where Mra. Flaxman usually awaited me. I was surprised to find her sitting near the fire, a book in her Iiand, and no preparation made for church. " You must go alone this morning, I fear." "Are you not well? " " No, dear ; I cannot even plead a headache. I might go deeper, though; for I have had a heart- ache of late." " Have you got bad news from Hubert ? " " On the contrary, I have had better news than usual from him in his last few letters; but, dear, I s^>"»iinli ''• WOBK. est. " Won't you ■ight morning, Mr. clear, honest gaze trate my deepest [uest? You have r face, and I mur- him to go particu- tistily entered the d cloak for church, ce a request of him re a good, honest ringing as I went ised a moment at )n to the drawing- ly awaited me. I ear the fire, a book made for church, ling, I fear." ad a headache. I lave bad a heart* I Hubert?" better news than tters; but, dear, I / ':A M THE ENCOUNTER AT ST. MARK' 8. 329 may have other anxieties than merely personal ones." " Our anxieties should send us to God's house, and not keep us away— don't you think?" " Yes, in most cases. Some day I may explain all this to you, Medoline ; but not now." " Good-bye, then," I said, kissing the sweet, gen- tle face, and thinking I knew what was keeping her at home. As I passed into the hall, I saw Mr. Winthrop coming down from his own room ; but I did not pause to speak, thinking he was on his way to the library. My hand was on the door, when he called me bar':.. "After ir siting me to church, are you going without me ? " I turned and saw that he was taking his hat. " Are you really going ? " " Yes, really. I would be rude, indeed, to slight your first invitation." " Do you come this morning merely because I invited you?" 1 asked, incredulously. "Do you consider it courteous to inquire too minutely into the motives of your friends ? " I was silent while I stood for a few seconds regarding him closely. I wondered if he had not taken special pains with his toilet; for I had never seen him look so regally handsome before. He may have detected my admiring gaze; for he flaid, lightly: I i M'^> 'Jji 880 MEUOLINE SELWYWS WOl K. " What is wrong, that you favor me with such Bcrutinizing glances ? " *' There is nothing wrong, Mr. Winthrop, so far as my eyes can penetrate. I trust that, to clearer vision than mine what lies deeper than human gaze can pierce, is equally perfect." " Is it your custom, little one, to pay your male acquainttmoes such open compliments? " " It was not a compliment. I only spoke the truth," I said, quietly, as wo walked side by side down the lilac-bordered footpath, the way we always went to church when we walked, as it cut off a-half mile or more. It was a charming walk in summer ; but now the low bushes looked common and ungraceful, stripped of their foliage ; but the ground was high, and over their tops we could see the distant hills and the sun-kissed sea. And this morning as I tripped lightly by my guardian's side, I fancied I had never seen this quitt pathway even in its midsummer glory look so perfect. " It is a wise plan not to tell your friends the truth always. Masculine vanity is occasionally as strongly developed as feminine," he said after we had gone some time in silence. " But you are not vain, Mr. Winthrop ; I never saw any one so free from it," I said, gravely. "You are determined to overwhelm me with your flatteiy. We must change our conversational topics altogether." ' S WOl K. ivor me with such T. Winthrop, so far ust that, to clearer er than human gaze e, to pay your male iments?" I only spoke the valked side by side path, the way we ve walked, as it cut J a charming walk in ihes looked common eir foliage ; but the ir tops we could see issed sea. And this ' my guardian's side, quitt pathway even 3 perfect. bU your friends the ity is occasionally as e," he said after we Winthrop ; I never [ said, gravely, overwhelm me with 'Q our conversational TIIE ENCOUNTER AT ST. MARK'S. 331 " First, let me ask if flattery is not half-sister to falsehood ? " ♦' Probably they are pretty closely related ; but why are you anxious to get that matter settled ? " " Because I do not want you to believe I ever tell you what is not true. I do not think I could, if I tried." " You reserve that privilege, then, for your other friends." " Oh, no ; I am never tempted to be untruthful with them." " And are you so tempted in your relation with me? " he asked, a little sternly. "Sometimes." "Why, Medoline, you astonish me. Tell me what reason you have for being so tempted ? " " You make me afraid of you ; that is my only reason," I murmured, trembling already with a touch of my natural fear of him. " I am sorry to know that I stand iu the rela- tion of an ogre to you." " You do not, and I never meant to tell you that. I am afraid of you. By and bye, when I get a little older, I do not think that I shall be ; but you make me tell you everytliing." " If that is the case I am surprised you have so little wrong-doing to confess, i believe yoii will ultimately convince me that a few of your sex havo escaped the taint of their evil inheritance." 4mu 3)2 MKDOLISE HKLWYN'H WORK. m His words causoil sucli a thrill of delight that, remombering what a tell-talo faco I had, I turned my head to watch intently the white sails of a ship far away to the left ; but I presently bethought myself to inquire what our special inheriUmco was. " That which Eve left her daughters— deceit." " But, Mr. Winthrop, we are alike descendants of hers; and the sons as often take after their mother as their father." " That is not a bad hit. It never occuiTed to me before. Men and women, however, are different ; whether created so originally we do not know. But sometimes we meet a woman combining the best qualities of both sexes; but so far as my expe- rience goes, they are the rarest product of creative skill. I dare say there are men occasionally com- bining the same beautiful qualities." *' I think Mr. Bowen does." " Have you ever told him as much ? " Mr. Win- throp asked, with an odd smile. " No, I have scarcely said anything to him about his goodness. I like best to let him do the talking when we are together." " I am getting curious to see that man." " Oh, Mr. Winthrop, if you would only come with me to their church. They are having won- derful meetings, and people are getting con- verted." V ) ^iihlii, H WORK. uill of delight that, iico I liivcl, I turned white Hails of a ship )ro8ontly bethought special iulieritiinco ughters — deceit." ; alike descendants 311 take after their lever occuiTed to mo •^ever, are different ; r we do not know, man combining the ut so far as my expe- ; product of creative 3n occasionally com- ities." smuch?"Mr. Win- 3. lything to him about it him do the talking 16 that man." •u would only come 'hey are having won- 5 are getting con- TUE ENCOUNTER AT 8T. MABS'S. 833 •' What church is it ? " " Beech Street, I heard the minister pray atMw. Blake's funeral, and once since at the Larkuma. I have longed to hear him again. I never heard anything like it in my life. It reminded me of a beautiful poem or oratorio." ♦* Why, have you not gone to hi» church, then, to hear him ? " " I feared you might be displeased." We walked on some distance iu silence. I stole a quick look once at his face to see if he was angry, but he seemed in one of his abstracted n lods, and I reflected that by this time he had probably for- gotten my existence. But I was mistaken ; for all at once he said abruptly, as he stood holding open the gate that led from the footpath into the main street. "• You have been a more obedient girl than I expected any of your sex could be, especially one yrith your keen, impetuous nature. To reward your fidelity I will go to the Beech Street church whenever you wish." I looked up at him, the grateful tears in my eyes, but some way my feelings had got beyond my control, and I darad not attempt to thank him. We joined the crowds on the side- walk and after a while he said : — "You have not thanked me, Medoline; don't you appreciate my offer? " I tried to speak ; but my lip quivered, and I re- mained silent. 334 MSDOLINE SELWYN'SWOiK. "You have tharAed me very eloquently, litde one ; more so than if you had used set phrases." The remainder of our walk was completed mostly in silence. I scarce knew why, but my heart was as glad as if June roses and song birds had been about us as we went. I looked at some staid people,-old looking to me, though few of them were past fifty,-and pitied them that they too were not young and glad-hearted like me. As we neared the church, the sunshine and gladness sud- denly grew dim, for there, in all her perfect love- Uness, Mrs. Le Grande was approaching St. Mark s from the opposite direction. Impulsively I turned to Mr. Winthrop, hoping he would not see her; for usually he was quite oblivious of the presence of those who might be on the street with him. A glance assured me that he was looking at her, and that her desire was gratified. He took no notice, however, of my abrupt movement, and without change of expression or voice, said : "There seems a good many strangers on their way to church this morning. Some unusual circumstance must have occurred to bring out so many curious worship- pers." I could not help smiling at the veiled irony in voice and words. Fortunately we were consid- erably noarer the church than Mrs. Le Grande, and without quickening our steps gained its shelter before she overtook us, although I saw she moved more quickly after she saw us. St. Mark's vas an 4 !«^i.l!l.:;ii ■N>8 WOiK. very eloquently, little I used set phrases." was completed mostly ■hy, but my heart was 1 song birds had been ooked at some staid though few of them [ them that they too irted like me. As we nine and gladness sud- 1 all her perfect love- .pproaching St. Mark's Impulsively I turned e would not see her ; ivious of the presence le street with him. A ras looking at her, and 1. He took no notice, ovement, and without le, said: "There seems heir way to church this lircumstance must have many curious worship- iling at the veiled irony inately we were consid- than Mrs. Le Grande, : steps gained its shelter hough I saw she moved us. St. Mark's vas an THE ENGOUNfEB AT ST. MARK'S. 335 ancient church, built in old colonir.1 days. One could easily fancy themselves in a country church in some quiet English village, as tlieir eyes fell on the high-backed pews, narrow, stained glass-win- dows, and walls coveied with memorial tablets, and the other peculiarities of a church over a century old. The Winthrop pew was near the pulpit. A large square one, and commandilnp' an excellent view of the congregation. When Mrs. Le Grande entered, she paused for a moment, apparently tak- ing a rapid aurvey of the church ; when her eye fell on our pew. Without paying any attention to the usher, she glided to the nearest vacant seat to ours. Directly I was conscious that very many eyes were upon us. Opening my Bible, I read mechanically the words before me ; but no more conscious of their meaning than if they had been Sanscrit. When the service began, in the with- drawal of attention to other things, I took courage to look at Mr. Winthrop. He sat facing Mrs. Le Grande, but with face as unruffled us if he were reading his morning paper. I glanced next at Mrs. Le Grande. She sat with downcast eyes, her color varying fitfully. She might have been taken for some beautiful picture of penitence. I do not know if Mr. Winthrop vouchsafed her a single look, but from her expression I judged that she thought he was watching her jlosely. It was a relief when the service was ended, although my 836 MEDOLINE SELWYITS WORK. conscience painfully reminded me that I would liave another master opportunity for listening to the preached gospel to repent of, or else to confront some day; for I had been so nervous I had not listened intelUgently to a single sentence of the mrrnon* ■ m.i3.- WOBK. le that I would r for listening to r else to confront rvous I had not sentence of the A>»^< ^Mj ^ ^ ^^ CHAPTER XXIV. ' [ MBS. LE OBANDE's STRATAGEM. HHE congi-egation slowly dispersed, Mr. Winthiop pausing, as was his wont, for the crowd to move out. Although one of the busiest men I ever met, he never seemed in a hurry, ^icsides, he had an extreme dislike to be jostled by a hurrying crowd. When he saw the aisles getting empty he left the pew. Mrs. La Grande €ii)parently, like ourselves, liked plenty of elbow-room ; for she only left her pew a few steps in advance of us. Mr. Winthrop walked leisurely towards tlie door. I dropped behind, not wishing to bow to her in his presence, and not capable either of the rudeness of passing her without a friendly nod. My heart beat thickly as I saw him approaching nearer to her, and a moment after they were side by side. She partly turned her face toward liim, an expression of contrition and ap- peal, making her beauty well-nigh irresistible. I ^ MEDOLINE SELWYirS WOBX. gazed, fascinated; then after awhile I turned my eyes to Mr. Winthrop. I felt a sudden relief when I saw the same unconcerned expression that was habitual to him. Mrs. Le Grande looked him, for an instant, full in the face, when a swift change came over her own countenance. For the first time, probably, she reaUzed that her power and fascma- tion had lost their effect on him. A crimson flush of shame and anger swept over cheek and brow, as quickly followed by a deathly pallor. Mr. Win- throp, without noticing her presence, walked leis- urely on. She stood perfectly still, leaning her hand, as if for support, against the back of a pew. I hastened to her side, pitying her deeply m her disappointment. She gave me a dazed look, scarce seeming to recognize me ; I paused an instant and held out my hand, but she did not seem to notice it She looked so wan and wretched I felt I must try to comfort her, though at the risk of Mr. Wm- throp's displeasure. " You are not looking well," I said compassion- ately. " Is the re anything I can do for you ? " "You would not dare, even if you were willing, with that merciless man so near," she said, faintly. I paid no attention to her remark, but asked if I might get her a glass of water. " Yes, anything, please, to take away this deathly feeling." I drew her into a pew and forced her to lie down, crushing thereby a most elegant toilet. . L 51 WOBX. wrhile I turned my sudden relief when xpression that was ide looked him, for len a swift change . For the first time, power and fascina- 1. A crimson flush ;r cheek and brow, ly pallor. Mr.Win- esence, walked leis- y still, leaning her t the back of a pew. ig her deeply in her a dazed look, scarce lused an instant and 1 not seem to notice retched I felt I must the risk of Mr. Win- " I said compassion- jandoforyou?" 1 if you were willing, ar," she said, faintly, mark, but asked if I p. ake away this deathly lew and forced her to most elegant toilet. Mm3. La ORANDE^a STRATAGEM. 339 But I was afraid she was dying, she looked so pale ; then, rushing to the vestry, I found the sex- ton. He looked somevviiat startled at sight of me. " Can you give me some water ? — there is a lady upstairs very ill." "That one that's such a stunner?" he said, coolly, going to a shelf near where he had water and glasses. *' I presume it is the same," I said, seizing the glass, while wondering at his indifference. " You'd best not get too frightened. Miss Selwyn. I've heard of that one afore, and she knows what she's about." I hastened back to my charge, leaving l»im to follow at his leisure. I found her on the floor, apparently unconscious. Forgetful of the dainty Paris bonnet, I began applying the water vigor- ously, when she opened her eyes, and said : "That will do." I dried her face, Whisking away a few bountiful drops that were clinging to her garments. She arose directly. Several persons who had been late in leaving the church had collected around us. She glanced at them, a look of keen disappointment passing over her face. With an amazing return of vitality, she passed quickly out of the pew, saying, lightly : " Your church was uncomfortably hot, and the air was very impure ; it seems a necessity to absorb 22 [ li JI0 aSDOLlNS BKLWTN'B WORli. one's reUgion and a vitiated atmosphere at the same time." She turned to me presently, saying: "You get very easUy alarmed, Miss Selwyn. Are you always so impetuous in your deeds of "''Oh, no, indeed. I never had such cause for alarm but once before, and that was a poor widow who was utterly overcome by some good news I was bringing her. My friends usually have suffi- oient nerve to endure heavy shocks, I said, ""XrTe^flashed, but she allowed no further sign of annoyance to escape her. When we reached the door, she turned to me and said, very cordially : "I shall look for you to-morrow, according to promise. Forgive me for having kept you so long from your escort. I fear a scolding awaits you. Mr. Winthrop I used to find very impatient, if kept waiting." ' , . * „„^ I left her standing on the church steps, and turned my face homeward. When I reached the street I found Mr. Winthrop had got some distance ahead ; but he was walking slowly, and I soon over- took him. , . ... " Is it your custom to remain chatting with your friends after the sermon ?" he asked, carelessly. "Oh, no; but a lady who wt near us fainted just as I was standing by her." mM'i 111' S WORK. osphere at the same jaying : ned, Miss Selwyn. \ in your deeds of had such cause for t was a poor widow some good news I usually have suffi- r shocks," I said, owed no further sign When we reached said, very cordially: lorrow, according to ing kept you so long colding awaits you. i very impatient, if e church steps, and When I reached the iiad got some distance awly, and I soon over- lin chatting with your le asked, carelessly. > sat near us fainted UB8. LE GRANDE'S STRATAGEM. 341 »♦ And, of course, as a sort of mother-general of the sorrowing, you stopped to comfort her ? " " Yes ; but a few drops of water sufficed. She knew all the time I was in danger of spoiling her bonnet." " I am glad she snubbed you. You are too inno- cent too be matched against so perfect an actress." Then he changed the conversation, and Mrs. Le Grande was not mentioned again that day. I noticed, however, that he partook very sparingly of dinner ; and, in the hour or two which he usu- ally spent on the Sabbath with us in the drawing- room, he was unusually silent. I went to the library for a book, leaving him and Mrs. Flaxman alone, and returned just in time to interrupt, a second time, a conversation clearly not intended for my ears. •' Yes. She was at church this morning, looking as wickedly beautiful as ever," he was saying, as if in answer to Mrs. Flaxman's question. When the church bells began ringing that even- ing, a strong desire seized me to claim the fulfill- ment of his promise to accompany me to the Beech Street Church. He may have read it in my face. " Are you going to take me out again to-night? " "Do you wish to go?" I aked, with girlish eagerness. " I have told you before it is not polite to reply to a (juestion by asking another," ■ir'T~-"T«iiirrir"i"~frii j;l ill 342 MEDOLINE SELWYITS WOHIi. " Then I would like very much indeed to go to Mr. Lathrop's church to-night, if you are willing. Mrs. Flaxmaii looked up from her book with amazement. " You were never at their church before. What will those people think ?" , > "There must always be a firet time, and proba- bly you are aware I am not in bondage to other people's thought J," he said, with calm indifference. "Won't you come, too, Mre. Flaxmau? I ui^ed. "With pleasure," was the smiling response. "What will youx- Dr. Hill think if he hears you hav e been to hear Lathrop ? " " I must endeavor to Uve above public opmion, as well as you." „ " I am afraid such elevation would chill you. v " Don't you want Mrs. Flaxman to go ? " " I have nothing to say against it, if she has oour- age to brave public opinion." "I did not think you reckoned me such a coward." . . " That shows how little we know what our inti- mate friends think of m; if there was a general laying bare of hearts, methiuks there would be lively times for e while." I stood thinking his words ovar very 8fenoir.Ty, and theu turning to him eaid, gravely :— i'li I / ill ^M' WORIi. jh indeed to g») to I you are williug." rai her book with irch before. What st time, and proba- bondage to other 1 calm indifference. [re. Flaxmau?" I liling response, ink if he hears you ove public opinion, would chill you." man to go ? " ist it, if she has cour- ckoned me such a know what our inti- there was a general iuks there would be ovar very sferiorsly, gravely : — MRS. LE GRANDE'S STRATAGEM. 343 « I would be willing for nearly all my friends to see my thoughts respecting them." " There would be some exceptions, then. You said nearly all, remember. The few might be the ones most anxious to know, and upon whom the restriction would bear most heavily." ^^ "They might not care what I thought, I said with a hot flush ; something in his look making me tremble. , , u u » If we are to be in time for church we should leave very shortly," he said, looking at his watch. "And we are really going to Beech Street Church this evening? " . , ., t « Yes, really," he said, with that genial smile I was beginning to regard like a caress. Mrs. Flaxman and I hastened to our rooms ; she nearly as well pleased as I. It seemed quite too good to be true that we three were to go m com- pany to those meetings where men and women talked to each other, and to God, of aU the great things He was doing for them. I was very speedily robed and back in the drawing-room, where Mr. Winthrop was stiU sitting gazing mto the fire with thatindrawn, abstracted expression on hisface which was habitual to it in repose. I waited silently near until Mra. Flaxman should come in and interrupt his reverie. I liked to watch his face in those rare momenta, and used to speculate on what he might be thinking, and wishing my own thoughts wer© 344 MEDOLINE SELWTirS WORK. m high and strong enough to follow his on their long upward flight. He looked at me suddenly. "What, if I could read your thoughts now, Medoline? From your intent look I think I was the subject of your meditations." I smiled calmly ; " You would have been flattered, as you were this morning, perhaps. I was just wishing I was cap- able of going with you along those high paths where, by your face, I knew you were straying." " Was that what you were thinking about, and that only ? " My face crimsoned, but I looked up bravely into the honest eyes watching me. "Must I confess even my thoughts to you, Mr. Winthrop? I have had to ask that question before?" " Not necessarily. But I have a fancy just now to know what else you were thinking of." I hesitated a moment, and then said bravely : *• I waa looking at your face, and it occurred to me that in some faces there was the same power to thrill or e's soul that there is in splendid music, or poems tnat can never die." ♦* You ■^6i>3 in a very imaginative and sentimen- tal mood to trace such analogies. It is not wise to see so much in a common human face." " Do we not sometimes get glimpses of God in that way?" I asked. ifcJ liii'i WORK. r bis on their long ir thoughts now, ook I think I was I smiled calmly ; d, as you were this trishing I was cap- those high paths . were straying." linking about, and ed up bravely into aghts to you, Mr. isk that question B a fancy just now iking of." lien said bravely: i it occurred to me le same power to splendid music, or tive and sentimen- . It is not wise to 1 face." Impses of God in JlfJ?S. LE GRANDE'S STRATAGEM. 346 Are you always thinking such high thoughts, Medoline ? "Oh, no, indeed. When I have nothing to inspire them, my thoughts are very common- place. The brook cannot rise higher than its source ; it needs artificial help to set. 3 mountain tops" , «. He looked at me kindly as he said; "You are Bot fashioned after t'le regulation models of the woman of to-day." , "I think I have heard that idea expressed in varying phrases a good many times since I came to America." "It does not displease you?" "It used to at first. Possibly I am get- ting used to it now. I see there is so much genuine unhappiness in the world, I am not go- ing to grieve over the mild criticisms of my friends." "A very philosophic conclusion to come to. But does it not occur to you that other meanings than unkindly ones may be taken from these chance remarks we let fall ? " "It would please me if I could,'* I said, looking at him with pleased eagerness. Mrs. Flaxman entered the room then, ready for church. My head was aching severely, ond a ditressing giddiness occasionally seized mej 'i :U(i MEDOLINE SELWYirS WORK. but I was BO eager for this long coveted priv- ilege, I kept silent about my feeUngs. Sick- ness and I were such strangers to each other, I aoarcoly understood its premonitory warnings. ▼ !i m.M^\ \4i f^.^ ■» ' WORK. ong coveted priv- y feelings. Sick* 318 to each other, uitory waruiugs. CHAPTER XXV. BEECH STREET WOBSHIPPERS. IS WO neared the Beech Street Church, we found a crowd of persons hurrying in the ,.__ same direction. Mrs. Flaxman expressed her astonishment ; since she supposed Mr. Lathrop's flock to be small in number, and humble in its class of adherents. When we reached the door, a glance inside revealed the fact that it was already comfortably filled, and where all the approaching throng were to be bestowed was a mystery. Daniel Blake was one of the ushers. His face brightened at sight of us. Nodding respectfuUy to Mr. Win- throp, he led us to one of the best seats in the house. I glanced around at the large congregation, and was impressed by the solemn hush pervading the place, and the expectant look on the faces of the worshippers. Mr. Bowen was sitting near and I wanted Mr. Wintbrop to see t id know him ; so I S I: '! 348 MhDOLlNE SELWTITS WOBI. took out my pencil and wrote on the leaf of my hymn book directing his attention to my friend. He looked keenly at the pale, rapt face, and then with a scarce perceptible smile turned to me. The church kept filling; and while yet the people were streaming in, the minister arose, and after a brief, but exceedingly solemn invocation, gave out the hymn. In an alcove just behind the preacher's stand waj a cabinet organ, and some half dozen singers, male and female ; but once the singing had got weU nude- way, organ and choir were as though they were not ; nearly every one^a the house was singing save myself and Mr. Wintarop. I kept sUent the more keenly to enjoy the heavy volume '>f sound which impressed me aa more reverent praise than any church music I had ever heard. I turned to Mr. Winthrop. He too was looking over the dense mass of humanity with a curious intentness, as if here were some entirely new experience. When the hymn was ended there was a moment's hush after the congregation had bowed in reverent act of worship and then the preacher's voice rose in earnest pleading. I noticed it was better modulated than at Mrs. Blake's funeral, possibly the efiort to make him- self heard by the scattered groups on that occasion caused the differ'^nce. My eyes filled with tears, and a strange v ambling seized me as the petitions grew more earnest; the prayer was short, yet so #.jt{l„!| s worn. ou the leaf of my ntion to my friend. rapt face, and then turned to me. and while yet the minister arose, and ■ solemn invocation, 30ve just behind the 3t organ, and some 3male ; but once the ay, organ and choir ; nearly every one in 3 myself and Mr. nore keenly to enjoy bich impressed me as • church music I had . Winthrop. He too ass of humanity with e were some entirely B hymn was ended fter the congregation worship and then the jainest pleading. I ilated than at Mrs. effort to make him- roups on that occasion eyes filled with tears, 3d me as the petitions jrer was short, yet so BUECS STREET W0&aHiPPEB8. 349 much was comprehended in it. The Scripture lesson was read in very natural, but also solemn manner, without any attempt at rhetorical display, yet bringing out the subtle meanings of the pas- sage in a pecuharly realistic way. The sermon was delivered in much the same manner ; but in every word and gesture there seemed a reserve power and dignity, while the thoughts were strong and original ; and better than all, they made one wish to be purer, more unselfish, in fact Christ-like. The place seeiied pervaded by some mysterious influence never experienced by me before in any church. The serr^on was ended at last ; the Judgment Day was the theme ; all the old horror that used haunt me in childhood, when I thought upon this awful period in my soul's future, came back to me as the preacher with a power scarce short of inspiration pictured that day. I could hear Mra. Flaxman's subdued weeping while in every part of the house, tears and low sobs added to the solemnity of the scene. Mr. Winthrop sat with folded arms and set stern face, apparently unmoved ; but the intent watchfulness of his face as he followed the preacher assured me that the sermon was making an impression. A hymn was sung when the sermon was ended, and then all who wished to remain to the after-meeting were assured of a welcome, no matter to what church they iHjlonged, or if aliens from all. . Tmtnii r n i i i « i« ii » j' « '«w"'" *!S 350 UEDOLINE BSLWtS'a WOWi. I scarce dared lift my eyes to Mr. Winthroplest he might be preparing to leave ; but to my relief he sat calmly down along with nearly the entire congregation, and then the other meeting began first with a number of prayers, afterward with speaking by men and women all over the house. When Mr. Bowen prayed, there was a solemn hush as if the people were almost holding their breath lest some word might be missed. I could not wonder that men's hearts were melted by the power and tenderness of his utterances. Strange that God should hide such gifts away for years when the world was in such need of workei-s. Along through the meeting there were occasional snatches of song, deep, resonant melody that up- lifted the heart as it welled up from glad, thank- ful souls. Men and women rose, for the most part with modest calmness, and told what God had done for them, and what they still expected from our Father as loving as He is rich. I listened spell- bound. Some of them had a story to tell so like my own that my heart was thrilled at times. I wanted to tell what God had done for me, but be- fore that crowded house, and worse than all, in presence of Mr. Winthrop, I found it impossible; but just at the close the minister, with a kindly thoughtfulness for which I blessed him said: " There may be some one here who loves Christ but has not courage to tell us so. If they are willing C ! Hll 8 WOtfx. Mr. Winthroplest 5 ; but to my relief nearly tbe entire iier meeting began rs, afterward with all over the house. 3 was a solemn hush elding their breath jsed. I could not ere melted by the Iterances. Strange ifts away for years need of workei-s. lere were occasional lit melody that up- p from glad, thank- ise, for the most part 1 what God had done expected from our h. I listened spell- story to tell so like ihrilled at times. I done for me, but be- d worse than all, in found it impossible ; [lister, with a kindly blessed him said: 1 who loves Christ but If they are willing BtmCH SftiEMT WORSntPPKtta. 361 to witness for Him we extend them the privilege of doing this by merely rising to their feet." My heart beat painfully and my head swam, but forgetful of my guardian's displeasure, and the concentrated gaze of some hundreds of eyes, I stood up. I heard a heartfelt " praise God," from the direction of Mr. Bowen's pew, and then there was a gentle rustle in every part of the house, and scores stood up, Mrs. Flaxman among the rest. The meeting closed quietly, and in the same solemn hush the people departed. Mr. Winthrop stood, waiting for the crowd to leave, not seeing the many curious glances bent our way. Presently the minister was passing our pew ; he paused uncertainly, wishing to speak, I knew from the expression of his face, but waiting for Mr. Winthrop first to make some sign of recognition. I stood near eno'gh to reach my hand ; my act speedily followed by Mrs. Flaxman ; and then with rare grace and courtesy Mr. Win- throp extended his hand, saying : " I have to thank you for your very faithful sermon. I did not know the present generation of preachers dared talk so plainly to their hearers." " Perha J8 you do not go in the way of hearing them ; the race of heroes is not yet extinct. Not that I reckon myself a hero," he added, with an amused smile at the slip of tongue. "The rack and flames are not necessary to 4 IP if' 862 MEDOtlNS 8ELWTN'8 WORM. prove one a hero or martyr. I dare say many who do not choose to live for their religion would die for it if it came in their way to do so." "Yourself among the number, 1 believe, Mr. Winthrop," the minister said, with a penetrating look, that Mr. Winthrop returned in kind. « I would take it as a favor if you would dine with us some day soon, and give me an evening of your society. We might have some topics in common to discuss," Mr. Winthrop said, to the surprise of each of us, Mr. Lathrop included. "Possibly you do not make such engagements on the Sabbath. Pardon me, I had forgotten you were a conscien- tious man," he said, «fter a short pause, seeing Mr. Lathrop hesitate. " It is not my usual custom, but nevertheless, I accept your invitation with pleasure." Mr. Bowen was waiting to speak with his min- ister, it may be hoping to exchange greeting with us as well. I whispered softly to Mr. Winthrop : « Would you like to speak to Mr. Bowen? " « If it is your desire, I will do so." **I would like you to speak with him very much." I made my way quickly to Mr. Bowen s side. He was standing a little way down the aisle from us. The grasp of his hand and glance of his eye were like a benediction. " I was glad to see you here," he said, in his 1 WOBt. I dare say many [or their religion jir way to do so." er, 1 believe, Mr. irith a penetrating ed in kind, ou would dine with an evening of your I topics in common , to the surprise of jluded. " Possibly !nt3 on the Sabbath. )U were a conscien- jhort pause, seeing but nevertheless, I lasure." ipeak with his min- lange greeting with y to Mr. Winthrop : oMr. Bowen?" io so." sak with him very ( Mr. Bowen's side, down the aisle from nd glance of his eye ere," he said, in his BEECH 8TBEET WOBSiJIPPEBS. 353 quiet way, which meant more than extravagant protestations from others. " There was bread for ycu, I think." "Yes, and wine; better far than human lips ever quaffed." " The new wine of our Father's Kingdom," he said, softly, with such a glad light in his eyes re- minding me of some spiritual illumination the flesh could not wholly conceal. Mr. Winthrop soon joined us, and never did I feel more grateful to my guardian than when I watched his gracious bearing towards my friend. If he had been some noted literary gentleman, he could not have been more genial and polite. " My ward has talked so much about you that, out of pure curiosity, I came to see and hear you to-night," he said, as they walked side by side towards the door. A faint flush passed over Mr. Bowen's face, but he made no reply. I was much better pleased than if he had exclaimed against his own poor abilities, as some would have done, or rhapsodized over his indebtedness to me. I I knew from the expression of Mr. Winthrop's face that he was pleased with him, and on our way home, he said : " You are like a magnet, Medoline. You draw the best types of humanity to you as the lodestone does the steel." " You like Mr. Bowen, then ? " " I do not know him well enough yet for that ; 23 T 1 If. A, 864 MEDOLINE SELWTITS WORK, but he has genius. Da Vinci would have taken him for a model for the beloved disciple if he had lived in his day. I never saw a more spiiitual face in any human being." , " He is like the disciple whom Jesus loved in one thing— he loves the Christ best of all." " Was not that a wonderful meeting, Mr. Wm- throp?" Mrs. Flaxman asked, after we had seated ourselves cosily by the bright fire in the drawing-room. , ^. » " I do not profess to be a judge m such matters. " I think a heathen would have felt some before unknown spiritual influence there to-night, if he had understood our language," I exclaiuied. "Heathen and Christian aUke are not so suscep- tible to spiritual influences as you,' Medoline ; so in harmony with the unseen and unknowable as you are getting to be." " Religion cannot be classed with the unknow- able. God only leaves us in uncertainty when we •wilfully close our eyes to his teachings." "You place no restrictions, then, on the benevo- lence of your Creator." "I shall not make myself a different and nar- rower creed than the Bible provides." "Men read the Bible and formulate creeds as opposite as the poles. The pendulum of their belief takes in not merely an arc, but the entire circle." X WORK. 3uld have taken disciple il he had a more spiiitual I Jesus loved in est of all." leetiug, Mr. Win- i, after we had bright fire in the 3 in such matters." e felt some before ere to-night, if he [ exclaiiued. ( are not so suscep- you,' Medoline ; so id unknowable as with the unknow- certainty when we achings." aen, on the benevo- different and nar- vides." formulate creeds as pendulum of their arc, but the entire Beech street worshippers. 355 "I think they are wisest who leave creeds; I mean tlie non-essentials, to those who try to pene- trate mysteries which, maybe, even the angels look upon as too sacred for them to explore, and just take wh&t is necessary to make us Christ- Uke." " My dear child, that is taking at a single bound faith's highest peak." " I suppose the wayfaring man, of whom the Bible speaks, does that. God may have different patents of nobility from us. I do not mean in the mere matter of birth, but of what, even to our dim vision, is vastly higher— the intellectual dower." " Medoline tries very hard to assure herself that her Mill Road favorites are royalties in exile," Mr. Winthrop said, with a smile, turning to Mrs. Flaxman. "I cannot say if she goes quite that far, but she certainly thinks that she has found among them some diamonds of the first water, though she can- not but acknowledge they lack the polishing touches to bring out more effectually their sparkle and brilliancy." "I do not know if the best among them have suffered anything from the lack of the human lapidary's skill. He often, at the best, is a mere bungler, and while he makes sure to bring out the brilliancy, laps off other finer qualities the lack of which no spark or brilliancy can compensate," I IV* i H m % ti! 356 MEDOLiNE BELwrira wor.K. replied Uyi 5 means convinced, and thinking all ttie ii .i(, of Mrs. Le Grande who had certainly i<;cei«'t!:j plenty of polishing touches, but sadly lack, fl higher mental and moral qualities. ♦A woiiJis convinced against her will is of the same opinion still," Mr. Winthrop quoted, although addressing no one in particular. "The author's real words are, 'A man convinced against his will,' " I retorted. " In this case it is a woman, and a very deter< mined, insistent little woman she is too," he replied. I rose, and standing before my guardian, said, " I am not such a little woman, Mr. Winthrop, as you would make me believe. Actually I can look over Mrs. Flaxraan's head." " A perfect giantess, especially in defending the character of the poor and bereaved." " If you had studied poor, hard-working people more, and books less, you would have found some of the rarest specimens of patience, and self-forget- fulness and fortitude, and oh, so many other beau- tiful characteristics, that you would long to strip off your proud ancestry and wealth, and become like them. They find it so much easier to be Christians — they are not bewildered by the pride of life and vanities that pall while they allure, and the perplexity of riches, and other ills the higher born are heir to." [ •s wor.K. id, and thinking all flrho had certainly touches, but sadly 1 qualities, ist her will is of the op quoted, although . • , ' A man convinced ti, and a very deter- ,n she is too," he my guardian, said, ti, Mr. Winthrop, as Actually I can look Uy in defending the aved." lard-working people Id have found some jnce, and self-forget- so many other beau- would long to strip wealth, and become much easier to be Idered by the pride hile they allure, and ther ills the higher I BESCn STREET WORSUIPriRS, 367 "I sincere'}' hope you .vill not begin a new cru- sade, Medoline." " Why, Mr. Winthrop, what do you mean ? " I asked, surprised at the sudden turn of the conver- sation. " What do I mean? You have begun it already. I only stipulate that you carry this crusade no farther." " But I do not understand you. How then can I promise to obey your will ? " **The fashion is rapidly gaining ground for women to have some pet scheme of reform. A few 0.1 them have such ambition for publicity they take their pet scheme, and the platform, and go trailing over the land like comets. Now I do not wish you to join this motley crowd, though your heart does burn over the unacknowledged perfections of the poor." "Surely, Mr. Winthrop, you do not insinuate there is the remotest possibility of such a thing, that I will go to lecturing," I said, with rising color. " Have you not already begun the work ? But I shall be very glad to have your promise that you will not seek a larger audience to listen to you than your present one." " Are you in earnest? " " I am certainly in earnest when I assure you it &v 358 MEDOLINB SELWYHra WORK. is my desire that you will not take up lecturing, ordev .lop into a woman with a career." I looked at him closely, and turning away, said, "Some day I hope to get wise enough to know when you are in earnest and when you are merely bantering me." " I think your faculties in that respect are rap- idly developing. You discovered before I did that it was merely badinage on Mr. Winthrop's part," Mrs. Flaxman said, genially. " But, Mr. Winthrop," I said, turning to hira once more, "is it right for you to judge those women so harshly who seize any honest way to get a hearing? I believe the majority of them are as much in earnest about their work as you are in any of your most cherished undertakings. Women more than men have an instinct to sacrifice them- selves on the first genuine altar they meet with. One human being, especially, if he is apt to bo cyn- ical, can scarcely judge another justly." " Are you not a little severe on me ? but possibly you are correct," he said, with perfect good humor. "I hope you will forgive me that unkind remark," I pleaded. "I am afraid, after all, it is no use for me to try to be good thoroughly and wholly. I can only be so in places." " You must not despair yet. Much worse per- sono than you have developed into saints ul- timately, if we can trust the calendar." woRi:. ake up lecturing, career." arning away, Buitl, enough to know 3n you are merely t respect are rap- 1 before I did that Winthrop's part," I, turning to hira lU to judge those honest way to get ty of them are as ork as you are in jrtakings. Women t to sacrifice them- ar they meet with, le is apt to bo cyn- justly." n me ? but possibly srfect good humor. me that unkind laid, after all, it is od thoroughly and ices." Much worse per- d into saiats vl' endar." , i BEECH STREET WORSHIPPERS. 359 I smiled, although discomfited. "I wish you would try to be good with me. I am sure I would find it easier." " Goodness too easily acquired is not apt to bo of a very high quality. Better fight your own battles and gain your victories all by yourself," he said, with a smile as he left us for his study. My hetNd was aching so severely that I concluded to try the effect of rest and sleep, to bring back my usual freedom from pain. f l^: J4*V< - 3** . >*^ ^:^-^-^X C^^yfy CHAPTER XXVI. FBOM THE DEPTHS. |HE next day was a wild, drifting storm. My fust waking thought in the early morn- ing was the unpleasant one that my prom- ised visit to Mrs. Le Grande must be made during the day. When I raised my head from the pillow the pain was even more severe than on the pre- vious evening, and a dizzy faintness seized me when I tried to rise. I was so unaccustomed to sickness I had not learned the happy art of accept- ing patiently its behests; so, after a few more ef- forts, I succeeded in dressing myself. I went to the window and, on looking oct, was greatly relieved to see huge drifts piled between us and the outside world, which promised at least one day's blockade unless Thomas and Samuel worked much harder than their wont. I put in an appearance at the breakfast table, although the sight of food was exceedingly repug- [VI. HS. Id, drifting storm, t in tlie early mcnn- one that my prom- ist be made during sad from the pillow e than on the pre- intness seized me ) unaccustomed to appy art of accept- fter a few more ef- self. I went to the 'as greatly relieved us and the outside one day's blockade rked much harder le breakfast table, jxceedingly repug- FHOM THE DEPTHS. 361 nant, and made a pretence to eat what was placed before nie. Mr. Winthrop very cheerfully an- nounced that 1 was certainly a prisone r f or that day — an announcement 1 received with perfect indiffer- ence — the mere thought of facing the outside world as I then felt made me shudder. Probably he was surprised that I took with such extreme calmness my temporary imprisonment; for ho asked if I en- joyed being snow-bound. " I do, to-day," I answered unthinkingly. " You must have some special reason for such a state of mind." I did not attempt to reply, and was glad to find that his suspicions were not aroused. After we arose from the table he stood chatting with us by the fire for some time, while Mrs. Flaxman with a little help on my part washed the china and silver, interjecting a word now and then with deep content. I could see these genial moods of my guardian gave her unbounded satisfaction; sometimes when I looked in her gentle, patient face and remembered how few real joys she had in her daily life, I used to get positively angry with him, because, as a rule, he was so chary with his smiles and gracious words. As he was leaving the room he turned to me and said : — " I would like you to come to th« library after you get those im- portant partnership dut 's completed." "Do you mean oar dm i-washing?" I asked. i: \ i «!i MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. "Yes, certainly. You seem to enjoy menial work very much." "It is woman's work, Mr. Winthrop, just as much as painting pictures or studying German meta- physics is, — a much more important work for me, if I marry a poor man pv.6. become my own maid of all work." " Ah, indeed ! you think, then, of becoming one of them. I mean one of your own favorite class. I presume you have not yet selected the happy pauper whose poverty you intend to share." " Oh, no, I have not given the question of a hus- band, or settlement in life any serious thought as yet. I was only supposing a case. One never knows what may happen, and even royalties now and then are reduced to genteel beggary." " You are merely getting accustomed to the life, taking time by the forelock, we might say," he said with an amused look, v Well, since you are not altogether committed to that way of living, and in case your dreams are not realized, we will con- tinue the German metaphysics a little longer. I got in a fresh supply of books on Saturday. I would like you to come and look them over with me. You may see something you would like to tiike up." 1 thanked him and promised to join him shortly. When we were alone Mrs. Flaxman said, with a reflective air, as she stood polishing the cream jug; N'S WORK. to enjoy menial work inthrop, just as much ying German meta- »rtant work for me, if ae my own maid of len, of becoming one r own favorite class, selected the happy end to share." he question of a hus- y serious thought, as a case. One never L even royalties now ;el beggary." icustomed to the life, we might say," he Well, since you are lat way of living, and realized, we will con- es a little longer. I iks on Saturday. I look them over with g you would like to i to join him shortly. Flaxman said, with a Ishing the cream jug; FROM THE DEPTHS. 363 "I never expected to see Mr. Winthrop so nice to a woman as he is to you." "Why, Mrs. Flaxman, do you call him nice?" I asked in amazemer.t. "Yes, dear, beautifully so. He puts on a brusque outside, but it is as much to conceal his liking for you as anything, and then he does more for you than he would for any one else in the world. Now, if I had tried for a lifetime, I could not have got him out to Beech Street Church and I doubt if there is any one besides yourself could have done it. Some men, unknown to themselves, have strong paternal instincts; and it only requires the right touch to waken these instincts." " But he is too young to be my father ; and any way he said he was not anxious for me to regard him in that way," I remonstrated. " He is old in heart if not in years, my child. His has been an intense and also bitter life, — the last few years at least." " Yes, I know," I said unthinkingly ; " but a man like Mr. Winthrop is foolish to let a woman like Mrs. Le Gi-ande embitter his life." "Medoline, where did you hear of Mrs. Le Grande?" she asked sharply. My face crimsoned guiltily, but I remained silent. "Was it Mrs. Blake, or any of the Mill Road people told you?" .11 II 364 MEDOLINE SELIVYN'S WVnii. "No, indeed. I have told you before they never gossip about him." " Was it any of our own friends, the Carters, or Flemings ? I know they are vulgarly inclined, for all they are in good society." "It was none of these, nor any one you have seen for a good many years, that told me what I know." " You must tell me, Medoline, who told you. It is the first time I have tried to force your con- fidence." " But I have promised not to tell you." " Had you met Mrs. Le Grande before you were with her yesterday when she fainted in church?" My answer was a sob. " Where had you met her, Medoline ? " " You will tell Mr. Winthrop, and he will never forgive me." " Then you have really been with her ? " " Yes, she sent me a letter requesting me to visit her." " And you went. When was this ? " " A week ago. But I did not dream she was a rich woman or had ever known Mr. Winthrop. I thought it WHS some one poor and in distress. I did not know it was a person suffering from heartbreak." " Heart-break ! " she exclaimed, with such a flash of scorn, that the surprise her words created effect- ually' r^ried my tears. m 's woi:k. u before they never nds, the Carters, or ilgarly inclined, for any one you have ;hat told me what I e, who told you. It to force your con- ) tell you." ide before you were iainted in church?" [edoKne?" p, and he will never with her?" : requesting me to ,8 this?" ot dream she was a [1 Mr. Winthrop. I nid in distress. I did ig from heartbreak." ed, with such a flash vords created effect- FROM THE DEPTHS. 365 "She has no heart to get broken, except the or- gan that propels her blood— even a cat has the same." "She is very beautiful, and is also extremely anxious to make reparation to Mr. Winthrop for the wrong she has done him." " She is as heartless and selfish as she is beauti- ful; and if she were to be allowed the privilege of making reparation, the second offence would be worse than the original one. But we will not men- tion her name again. Leave her alone as she de- serves." " She compelled me to give my promise to go and see her again. She looks for me to-day." " Medoline, have you no sense of propriety ? Mr. Winthrop's ward visiting, unknown to him, the woman who wrought him such grievous wrong? Can you expect him to forgive such an act, espe- cially when he was getting to have such confidence in your honesty and purity?" " You will tell Mr. Winthrop ? " « I must obey him. It was his Lope you would never hear the disgraceful story. His special com- mand if you did that I must tell him directly. I promised to do so and I must fulfill that promise, but at a cost, Medoline, that I dare not think of." " Will you go directly then ? Maybe this is my last day at Oaklands. I shall not stay here to suf- fer his contempt and displeasure." I said wearily, 366 MEtOLtNS aSLWYlPB WOPK. I my bodily misery dulling to some extent the men- tal pain ; for I was growing sick rapidly. With difficulty I gained the shelter of my own room, my one haven of refuge in the wide world. Crouch- ing by the window I watched the mad, hurrying storm outside, and wondering vaguely if nature suffered in this elemental warfare as we did in our tempests of the soul when the very foundations of hope and happiness were getting swept from our feet. In imagination I re-lived my past months at Oaklands, my intercourse with Mr. Winthrop, his gradually increasing esteem, the friendship, nay rather the comradeship that was being cemented between us over literature and art, the help he was giving me in these, and the rare life that ima- gination was beginning to picture ■ that we might enjoy through coming years together. I realized then, as never before, how happy I had been in my new home ; and with a clearness that, gave me pain came the consciousness how much my guardian had become to me. After to^ay I might never again call, Oii.dands my home. If I had gone at once and confessed to Mr. Winthrop on ray return that day from Linden Lane that I had met Mrs. Le Grande he could not have been rraaonably angry with me; but I had concealed from him the fact, and had also promised her an- other inti^rview, and now with vision grown sud- denly clear I could realize how he would receive m 8 WOPK. tue extent the men* ick rapidly. With of my own room, ide world. Crouch- the mad, hurrying vaguely if nature ire as we did in our very foundations of ng swept from our I my past months at . Mr. Winthrop, his the friendship, nay ^as heing cemented ad art, the help he le rare life that ima- turethat we might igether. jefore, how happy I nd with a clearness consciousness how tome. After to^ay mds my home. If I led to Mr. Winthrop Linden Lane that I }uld not have been lut I had concealed Iso promised her an- h vision grown sud- w he would receive r FROM THE DEPTHS. 867 my unwilling confession, after a whole week's silence. With aching head and heart I wondered at the cruelty of circumstance that forced the inno- cent to suffer with tlie guilty. With my intense nature, so susceptible either to pleasure or pain, those lonely hours in my own room, that bitter day, left their trace on heart and body for long weary weeks. When at last Mrs. Flaxman came to me, her own face sad and troubled, I no longer felt the cold in my fireless room ; for the blood now was rushing feverishly in my veins, and my head throbbing with intense pain. I lis- tened to what she had to say in a dazed, half-con- scious way. I heard her say something about Mr. Winthrop's displeasure, but I was too sick to care veiy much for anything, just then. I startled her at last by saying : — *' I do not understand what you are saying. Pleasn wait and tell me some other time." " Sure, you have not been sitting all this time here in the cold. You should have gone where it was warm, or rung for Esmerelda to kindle your fire." I rose and tried to walk across the rooia ; but sUggered and would have fallen only that she sup- ported me. " Are you sick, Medoline ? " She asked, in great alarm. •' My head aches and I am very hot," I said un- 368 UEDOLINE SELWTirS WOPK. certainly. I was unused to sickness and scarcely knew how much pain was necessary before I could truthfully say I was ill. I remember thinking the matter over with great seriousness, and wishing Mrs. Blake, with her superior knowledge of bodily ailments, was there to decide, until at last I got tired and tried to forget all about it. Then every- thing began to grow uncertain. I knew that I was lying in bed and the fire burning brightly in the grate, while persons were passing to and fro; but they did not look familiar. I kept wishing so much that Mrs. Blake would come with her strong, cheery presence to comfort me, and if she would give me a drink of pure cold water from one of her own clean glasses I should be content to turn my face to the wall and sleep. But after a time my one despairing thought was Mr. Winthrop's dis- pleasure, while hour after hour, and day after day, I tried to tell him that I did not mean to deceive him, and wanted to be just to every one alike, but he was never convinced and used to come and go with the same stern, hard look on his face that nearly broke my heart. When just at the point of utter despair, when I thought all had turned against me, Mr. Bowen or Mrs. Blake used to step up and tell me they understood it all and believed in me, then for awhile I would shut my eyes and rest, only to open them again to plead once more for forgive- ness; but to plead vainly. Then I would be on \ I <8 WOPK. ikness and scarcely ssary before I could lember thinking the isness, and wishing inowledge of bodily , until at last I got out it. Then every- in. I knew that I burning brightly in passing to and fro; , I kept wishing so ome with her strong, ne, and if she would ater from one of her content to turn my lut after a time my Mr. Winthrop's dis- r, and day after day, lot mean to deceive every one alike, but ised to come and go )ok on his face that n just at the point of ill had turned against ! used to step up and 1 and believed in me, ny eyes and rest, only Dnce more for forgive- Then I would be on FBOM THE DEPTHS. 369 the point of leaving Oaklands forever, and bidding good-bye to every one in the household save Mr. Winthrop. He always turned away Sternly and refused me his hand. I was not conscious when it was day or night. It was all one perpetual twi- light. I would ask if the sun would never rise again, or the moon come back with her soft shin- ing ; but no one heeded my questions. I resolved to be so patient after this in answering people's questions when their heads were full of pain, since I knew how sad it was to go on day after day with these puzzling, wearying questions haunting one. Then there came a long, quiet time of utter forget- fulness when I passed down into the very valley of the shadow that Death casts over the nearly dis- embodied spirit, and here I had rest. When at last I opened my eyes to see the old, accustomed place and faces, I w&s like a little child. I lay quiet for some time wondering if it were possible for me to lift my band. It was night, for the lamp was burning, and some one was sitting just within the shadow the lamp shade cast. I hoped it was Mrs Blake, and lay wondering how I could find out. I tried to lift my head, but found the effort so wearying I went back into brief un- consciousness. Presently my eyes opened again ; but this time there was a face bending over my bed, so that I had no need to muster my feeble forces to attract their attention. I smiled up weakly into 24 1* /I 370 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WOr.K. the face that in the dim light I failed to recognize. " Do you know me, dearie ?" I was sure it was Mrs. Blake's voice sounding strong and real. "Is it Mrs. Blake?" I asked uncertainly. " Yes, dearie, it jest is." Tlien I shut my eyes, so tired I could not even think; but 1 heard a rustling sound, and a voice, that sounded a long way off, murmur, "Thank God!" The voice sounded familiar, but I could not recall whoso it was. I tried to do so, but the effort wearied me. A spoon was put to my lips, the milk that was given to me brought back the long ago times — so long ago, I wondered if now I was an old woman ; but after brief reflection I knew this could not be, since Mrs. Blake was still alive, and not much older in appearance than when I saw her- last. To make sure of the matter I determined to look at her again, and opened my eyes to settle my perplexity ; but this time the face looking down at me was not Mrs. Blake's. I tried to raise my head on the pillow the better to see who it was, when the per- son stooped near to me and said : " You are coming back to us, Medoline." I wondered who was call- ing me by that name. No one save Mr. Winthrop and Mrs. Flaxman were in the habit now of doing so ; but my strength was so rapidly waning I could neither see nor hear very distinctly. After a few seconds, once more rallying all my forces, I looked up again. ^^ '8 wonK. failed to recognize. ' I was sure it was rong and real, uncertainly, lien I shut my eyes, ink;, but 1 heard a hat sounded a long God!" The voice not recall whoso it B effort wearied ine. the milk that was long ago times — so was an old woman ; w this could not be, , and not much older 'her- last. To make ined to look at her ;ettle my perplexity ; down at me was not se my bead on the t was, when the per- il : "You are coming adered who was call- B save Mr. Winthrop e habit now of doing ,pidly waning I could tinctly. After a few LI my forces, I looked FROM TUE DEPTUS. 371 L "Who is it?" I whispered. "Do you not know me, Medoline? " " Is it," — I paused, trembling so with excitement I could scarce articulate,—" is it Mr. Winthrop ? " " Yes, little one." The old caressing name ho had given me long ago, surely he must have forgiven me or he would not use it now. But I was not satisfied without the assurance that we were to take up again the kindly relations of the past ; and so with an effort that seemed likely to sweep me back dangerously near that shore I had so lately been skirting, I looked up and said : " I am sorry I displeased you ; won't you forgive me? " My voice was so weak I was afraid he could not catch the words I uttered ; but he folded my thin, shadowy hand in his, which seemod so strong and muscular I fancied it could hold me back from the gates of Death if its owner so willed, and after a few seconds' silence, he said, gently: "You must never think of that again, Medoline. Just rest, and come back to us. We all want you more than we can tell..'' " Then I am forgiven, and you will trust me once more," I pleaded softly. "Yes, Medoline, as I expect to be trusted by you," he said, with a solemnity that made me tremble. My eyes closed in utter weariness and then I seemed to be floating, floating over summer seas, and under such peaceful, blessed skies, I If if t 1 1 ll If' 1 372 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. began to wonder if I was not passing out to the quiet coast bordering on the Heavenly places. Of one thing only was I certain — the hand that still held mine, which kept me from drifting quite away from the shores of time. I tried to cling to it, but my hand could only lie nerveless within its firm grasp. I believed if once tlie hold was loosened I should slip quietly out into the broader sea just beyond me. I wondered which was best— life or death,— then far down in my soul I seemed to grow strong, and could calmly say, " as God wills ; " and for a long time I seemed to be passively awaiting His will. It was very strange, the thoughts I had, lying there so far within the border land ; as if the faculties of mind and soul had nearly slipped the fleshly leash, and independently of their environ- ment, boldly held counsel, and speculated on the possibilities of their immediate future. But gradually the wheels of life began to turn more strongly. When next I opened my eyes the daylight was softly penetrating the closely drawn curtains. Mrs.Flaxraan was standing near, looking worn and pale ; but Mrs. Blake was also there, and loomed up before me, strong as ever— a look into her kindly face was like a tonic. When she saw me watching her she turned around, and very softly whispered to Mrs. Flaxman, who, casting a startled, anxious glance towards me, went silently from the room, WORK issing out to tho veuly places, n — the hand that om drifting quite ; tried to cling to srveless within its hold was loosened 3 broader sea just was best — life or . I seemed to grow } God wills ; " and jassively awaiting :ie thoughts I had, ler land ; as if tho nearly slipped the of their environ- ipeculated on the uture. life began to turn )ened my eyes the the closely drawn ding near, looking vfas also there, and ever — a look into . When she saw nd, and very softly , casting a startled, t silently from the FROM THE DEPTHS. 879 Mrs. Blake, without speaking, gave me some nourishment. After I had taken it I began to feel more like a living creature. " Mrs. Blake," I whispered. She stooped down to listen. " Tell me, please, how long I have lain here." "A good long bit, but the doctor says we mustn't talk to you, or let you talk." "I am so tired thinking ; won't you sing to me?" "My voice ain't no great shakes ; but I'll do the very best I can for you, dearie." She went to the other side of the room, and seat- ing herself in a comfortable easy-chair began in a low, crooning voice to sing one of Doctor Watts' cradle melodies. Probably she had learned it in childhood from her own mother, and in turn sung it again to the infant Daniel. It soothed me better than Beetho- ven or Wagner's grandest compositions could have done. I lay with closed eyes, seeing in imagina- tion the great army of mothers who had lulled their babies to sleep with those same words, and the angels hovering near with folded wings guarding the sleeping nestlings. The voice grew indistinct, and presently sleep, more deep and refreshing than I had known for weeks, enfolded me. The doctor entered the room at last to put a stop to the music, and found Mrs. Blake tired and perspiring, but singing steadily on. 374 MEDOLINE SELWTN'S WORK. Without missing a note she pointed to the bed iind thfl peaceful sleeper. He smiled grimly and withdrew; no doubt realizing there were other soporifics applied by nature than those weighed and measured by the apothecary. ,' I I', WORK. nted to the bed liled grimly and here were other a those weighed % • IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) '^O Photographic Sciences Corporation w m <" \ ^\^ c\ \ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 o^ 1.0 I.I 1.25 i ii 2.8 IIIM IIIIIM 2.0 u U iJ.6 I ' r s,* , J, .^>-«fSK*i'3,SSa;':JIS?S~*v.5^is«<'?-- •w«8«^^V'«<3f»»'-.-s*st«--.«sSto«fl«i+"#i%-iS«sw« 7jL 6 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques *^R*'*f:--.":i^f'' !Sl*?!«SSS'- - ij;^ ' .j ''*» .g. ' ^ CHAPTER XXVII. CONVALESCENCE. IHEN the curtains were withdrawn from my windows, and I was strong enough to look once more on the outer world, I found the late April sun was bringing back life and beauty to the trees and shrubbery around Oaklands. Thomas and Samuel were well on with their gardening, and already a few brave blossoms were smiling up at us from mother earth. I felt like one who had been visiting dim, mysterious shores, and had got safely back from those outlying regions. I used to lie in those quiet hours of convalescence, trying to decide what was real and what fanciful in the ex- periences of the last few weeks. When Mrs. Flax- man considered me strong enough to listen to con- secutive conversation she gave me the particulars of my sudden attack of illness and the incidents connected therewith. I was one of the first stricken with a virulent 876 MEDOLINE SELWTN'8 WORK. type of typhoid fever which, in very many cases, had proved fatal. A want of sanitary precaution in Cavendish had caused the outbreak which caused, in loss of life, and incidental expenses, far more than the most approved drainage would do in a generation. I was amazed when the names of my fellow sufferers were mentioned; among them Mrs. Le Grande, whose recovery was still considered by the doctors exceedingly uncertain. Mr. Winthrop, she informed me, had not sufiB- cient confidence in the local doctors to trust me en- tirely to their care, and at the height of the fever had sent for one from New York. " But for that," she continued, " I believe you would be in your grave to-day." " I did not think Mr. Winthrop would care very much. He is so angry with me." " He very soon got over his anger when he found how sick you were. At first he was nearly beside himself; for he thought it was the message I had taken to you from him that day that caused your illness. He would come to your bedside, and lis- ten to your appeals for forgiveness with such an expression of pain on his face. Sometimes he would take your hands in his, assuring you of his forgive- ness ; but you never understood him. I was afraid you would die without ever knowing." " But I would have known all about it, once my 8 WORK. I very many cases, I in Cavendish had ed, in loss of life, ore than the most 1 a generation. I my fellow sufferers Mrs. Le Grande, )red by the doctors me, had not suffi- x)rs to trust me en- leight of the fever :. " But for that," would be in your >p would care very ger when he found was nearly beside the message I had that caused your IT bedside, and lis- aess with such an ometimes he would you of his forgive- him. I was afraid iwing." about it, once my C0NVALB8CENCS. am spirit had got freed from the body ; I cannot de- scribe what glimpses I have had of other worlds than ours. It seemed so restful there ; so much better than we have words to describe." »♦ We are so glad you did not leave us for that place, even though it is so beautiful." " When this life is done, and its work all finished, I may slip away there. I think my soul saw its home and can never again be so fully content with earth." ♦' Try not to think about it, Medoline, any more." "Why not?" " When a person's spirits begin to get homesick for a higher existence, usually they soon drift quiet- ly away where they long to be." Another day she told me how much Mra. Blake had done for me, nursing me with a skill and pa- tience that drew high praise from the dignified city physician accustomed to skilled nurses. Mr.Win- throp used to come and go, watching her closely, and one day he said : — " No matter what happens, Mrs. Blake's future will be attended to." Then I asked the question that had been troub- ling me ever since I had been getting better. " Why do I never see or hear anything from Mr. Winthrop? you say he has forgiven me; but he has not so much as sent me a message, or flower since I came to myself." fit. (S (1 1* ^fl^. 878 MEDOLINE SELWYirS WORK. "Why, Medoline, did you not know?" "Know what? " I asked, interrupting her, 'ha8 he gone away with Mrs. Le Grande? " I had for- gotten for the moment that Mrs. Le Grande was even weaker than myself. " Oh, no, indeed ; marriage has been one of her least anxieties of late. Mr. Winthrop is in London before this: I am looking for letters now every day." " Has he gone to Europe ? " ♦' Yes ; I thought of course you knew ; he left the very day the doctor pronounced you out of danger." "Did you know he thought of going? " " No, we were greatly surprised ; I cannot think why he left so abruptly." "Perhaps he was afraid of Ml^. Le Grande. He knows how fascinating she can be when she chooses." . "I do not think she had anything to do with it. She was perfectly harmless when he left, in the de- lirium of fever, with two physicians in attendance." I was not convinced by Mrs. Flaxman's words, but said no more on the subject. My strength rapidly returned once I had got in the open air. Thomas always found it perfectly convenient now to take me for a drive, even at most unseasonable hours. His gardening was press- ing heavily upon him, and no doubt it was hard for him to trust the care of flower and vegetable WORK. CONVALESCBNCS. 879 know?" :rupting her. 'has mde ? " I had for- rs. Le Grande was IS been one of her throp is in London letters now every u knew ; he left the you out of danger." if going?" ed ; 1 cannot think : Ml«. Le Grande. 5 can be when she thing to do with it. sn he left, in the de- ians in attendance." 3. Flaxman's words, d once I had got in I found it perfectly [or a drive, even at gardening was press- • doubt it was hard lower and vegetable beds to other hands ; but of the two he preferred to trust them rather than me, to strangers. We took long drives over hill and valley — for the most part taking the road that skirted the seashore. Silently I would watch the white sails disappearing beyond the eastern horizon, wishing that I could follow them to my guardian's side. I missed the delightful hours I used to spend in his study listen- ing to his conversation, so differeut from that of any human being I ever knew. He lived so far above the range of little minds, the trivialities of every-day life, social gossip, and the like, seemed to shrink from his presence. One always felt the touch of noble thoughts, and the longing for high endeavor where he was. I lived over again in these long, quiet drives, with the silent Thomas, those last few months, when, with my innocent child's heart, I sunned myself in his presence, unconscious of the rare charm and fascination that drew me to him. But as I grew stronger I turned fi-om the past and its memories, bitter-sweet, and set myself res- olutely to the duty of living my life well, indepen- dently of its secret unrest and pain. I knew that many before me, multitudes after me, would be called to endure a like discipline, and the world, no doubt, is the richer in what it holds as imperishable because of the compensation suffering brings ; for if we take with a docile mind the discipline God 380 MEDOLIirS aSLWTirS WOTiK. i w^ gives, there will always be compensation. One day, when I had come back strengthened from a long drive along the seashore, a very pleasant sur- prise awaited me. Mrs. Flaxman had received let- ters from Mr. Winthrop which, to my surprise, she did not share with me. But she handed me a check for two hundred dollars, which I was to distribute among my poor friends. That money I believe helped to change the destinies of several lives : for I tried to lay it out in a way that would help some to improve their chances to make life a success. June, with its flowers and perfumes, came at last; and in the early morning, when I used to ramble through the stretches of flowers and shrub- bery, and under the trees, tremulous with bird song, I wondered how the owner of all this beauty could willingly banish himself from it. Thomas per- mitted me to gather flowers at will — a favor I used to the utmost, among others sending Mrs. Le Grande a daily remembrance from Oaklands, in the shape of a bouquet of the choicest blossoms. At last I resolved to follow the flowers myself, though at the risk of the second time incurring Mr. Winthrop's displeasure ; but if she were soon to die, as her attendants seemed to expect, surely here was missionary work right at my door. I found the cottage a perfect bower of roses. The garden in front was a wilderness of the choicest varieties I had ever seen, and in the windows nothing could be 1 CON VALE8CENCB. S81 8 WOKK. )mpen8ation. One trengthened from a \ very pleasant sur- an had received let- , to my surprise, she 3 handed me a check 1 1 was to distribute at money I believe of several lives : for lat would help some ake life a success. perfumes, came at ig, when I used to f flowers and shruh- iilous with bird song, »11 this beauty could a it. Thomas per- will — a favor I used s sending Mrs. Le from Oaklands, in choicest blossoms. the flowers myself, d time incurring Mr. if she were soon to » expect, surely here , my door. I found [ roses. The garden e choicest varieties I }ws nothing could be seen but green leaves and blossoms of every vary- ing tint. It seemed hard to believe that the rarest rose of all was lying there, fading slowly away amid all this fragrance and beauty. I rang the bell, which was answered by the same little maid who had received me before. I asked for Mrs. Le Grande. "She's no better, ma'am, and Missus thinks she'll never be ; but, my ! we dassent tell her; she's that 'fraid of death." ''Does she see strangers?" "There's not many comes to see her, but I'll tell her you're here. Just step in here, please, and sit down for a minute." She opened a door near by ; but I thanked her and said I would wait in the garden among the roses for her answer. She soon came for me with a smiling face, say* ing Mrs. Le Grande would be glad to see me, and then led the way to her room. Mrs Le Grande was reclining in an invalid's chair, propped up with pillows, a rich satin quilt thrown over her feet, and robed in a pink silk wrapper that matched perfectly her exquisite com- plexion and the roses fastened in her hair. She received me with a gaiety that, under the cir- cumstances, astonished me, saying: "Why, how well you look ! Your attack of fever could not have been so severe as mine " i 382 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WOllK^ . « I was very iU indeed, I cannot imagine^how one could be worse and live," I said, gravely., "But I shall not be so strong as you for some weeks. It has left me with a troublesome cough, I shall be well when that leaves me." I felt constrained; uncertain what to say. Since hftr recovery was doubtful I shrank from en- couraging her in a false hope, and I could not tell lier that we all thought she must soon die. She BOOR noticed my constraint, and began to rally me. » Is it on account of Mr. Winthrop's absence you are looking so sorrowful ? " she asked. ^^ " I was not thinking of him, but of you alone. ' " That is kind, but I am not flattered. I did not think I was such a gloomy object for reflection." ♦'I was only sorry to see you looking so frail, and wishing I could help you," I said, gently. « If you only could, I would very soon discharge those useless doctors; they are all alike, I believe ; for I have tried each one of them in turn, and they none of them have done much for me." "I do not think there is so much difference in doctors as people imagine, if they but learn the nature of the disease, they all know the proper remedies to use." "That is poor consolation for me, I know it i had a good physician I would be well in a few days ; but the trouble with those who have attended me is, they do not understand my case and do not admin- ister the proper remedies." j-sft; »t imagine_how ono gravely.. f as you for some roublesome cough, me. in what to say. L I shrank from en- ,nd I could not tell ust soon die. She began to rally me. throp's absence you asked. but of you alone." lattered. I did not ct for reflection." )u looking so frail, ' I said, gently, very soon discharge all alike, I believe ; im in turn, and they for me." much difference in they but learn the U know the proper for me, I know if I te well in a few days; have attended me is, se and do not admin- CONVALESCKNCE. 383 " Nature is an excellent healer herself. If wisely assisted, she soon works the miracle of healing, un- less, — " I hesitated. "Unless what?" she asked sharply. " God has willed otherwise." " I cannot listen to such words, I am not going to die until I am old. Oh, why must we grow old and die at last ? it was a cruel way to create us." " The other world seemed so beautiful to me when I was so sick, I scarcely wanted to come back to this." "Well, it seems just the reverse to me, I lie awake at night and shudder when I think of death and the grave. It makes me shudder now in the sunshine, and with you smiling down so kindly at me. Please to never mention such things to me again." I felt grieved; for then my task in coming here would be a vain one. Day by day as I came to see her, the hectic flush in her cheek kept deepening, and the eyes grew brighter and more sorrowful, while she grew gradually weaker. Very soon the pretty parlor was vacated, while her bed was the only comfortable resting-place. She was anxious to have me come, and the nurse said she counted the hours between my departure and return. Her eagerness to have me read to her puzzled me at first, especially since she was in- different as to what I read, but after a while I found 384 MEDOLINE aSLWYN'8 WO UK. that she prized my reading merely because it acted as a sedative. During the night sleep usually for- sook her ; but when I left she was generally sleei)- ing peacefully. She permitted me to read the Bible as much as I chose. One day she explained the reason for her indifference in the matter : — "I do not wish to £fet interested in anything you read, for then I would keep awake to listen ; but the sleep you bring me is better than all my medi- cine, I set nurse reading to me one day ; but her voice was uncultivated, and her emphasis intolera- ble ; I should soon be well if you would read to me all the time." " I never heard of any one getting raised from a sick-bed by so simple a remedy." " You do not try to encourage me," she said, fretfully. I read on to her day after day until my voice grew husky, and the mere act of speaking often wearied me. We all saw the end was rapidly approaching, but no one had the courage to tell her. She got so angry with me one day when I suggested bring- ing Mr. Lathrop to visit her, that I slipped quietly away to escape the storm I had raised. I used to go and return with a sense of defeat that paralyzed all hopeful enthusiasm, and fearing that Mr. Win- throp's displeasure had probably been a second time incurred, without any corresponding gain to debit the loss, 8 WORK. ily because it acted it sleep usually for- vas generally sleep- no to read the Bible she explained the le matter : — ed in anything you ■ake to listen; but r than all ray raedi- ) one day ; but her r emphasis intolera- u would read to me ^tting raised from dy." rage me," she said, day until my voice t of speaking often rapidly approaching, 10 tell her. She got n I suggested bring- hat I slipped quietly d raised. I used to defeat that paralyzed lariiig that Mr. Win- bably been a second jrresponding gain to CHAPTER XXVIIl. THE SOUND OF MARRIAGE BELLS. I CAME home one day more dispirited than usual. I had found Mrs. Le Grande weaker . than ever, and yet she was clinging tena- ciously to life, and had that morning dictated an or- der to her dress-maker in New York for a most elab- orate costume. When I tried to urge her to think of something more enduring than the raiment whose fivshion and beauty soon changes, she forbade me mentioning such a thing again in her presence, nor would she listen to the Scripture reading on which I always insisted as the one condition on which I would read to her at all. I knew my own words were powerless to break the crust of worldliness and selfishness that bound her heart, but I hoped God's word might pierce it. Hubert had returned from college a few days before, and just as I en- tered the oak avenue from the little footpath through the wood, I met him cantering along on Faery. ^^^ m'' S86 MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WOHK. "A stranger has just arrived whom you will be surprised to see, " he called to me. •' Any one I know ? " I asked carelessly. " I should say it was ; and one whom you will be glad to see, if I am not mistaken." " Won't you tell me who it is and so prolong my pleasure, for I am not going direct to the house. I intend taking a stroll through the garden to try and get some unhappy fancies brushed away by the blossoms." " Anticipation is said to exceed realization, so T will generously leave you the former," he said, giving Faery the whip and cantering rapidly away. I did not find tlie flowers such comforters as I hoped, and soon entered the house, no doubt slightly impelled thereto by a natural curio&ity as well. I glanced into the drawing-room and parlors as I passed along the hall and began to think Hubert was merely subjecting me to one of his practical jokes, as I could see no sign of visitors anywhere, and I concluded to go to the library and try for a while to forget myself and heartaches in an hour's hard reading. I found the door ajar and when I entered the room was surprised to find the curtains ^drawn, and the room flooded with the June sun- shine. I turned to the study-table to see who might be taking such liberties in the master's ab- sence when there, standing with his back to me stood Mr Winthrop himself. He turned suddenly 1_ S WOHK. whom you will be ne. carelessly. 3 whom you will be n. and so prolong my 3ct to the house. I the garden to try I brushed away by 3ed realization, so I 3 former," he said, ering rapidly away, uch comforters as I 3e, no doubt slightly urio&ity as well. I n and parlors as I n to think Hubert me of his practical t visitors anywhere, ibrary and try for a rtaches in an hour's or ajar and when I . to find the curtains (vith the June sun- y-table to see who in the master's ab- ith his back to me He turned suddenly THE SOUND OF MARRIAGE BELLS. 387 and saw me. "Ah, little one, have you come to speak to me ? " " I did not know you were here ; but I am very glad to speak to you — to welcome you home," I said, giving him my hand. " You seem like one come back to me from the dead," he said, soberly, still holding my hand. "I am not sure if it was not you who held me back from those shining gates." " What do you mean ? " "When you held my hand through that long night, I thought but for your fiim grasp I should drift out of reach of life altogether. " " I tried to pray that night, Medoline, as I had never done before ; I believe my prayers v/ere an- swered." " Then you have found that the Bible is true?" I asked, looking up eagerly into his face. " Yes, every day more clearly." " Then it was well worth all the weariness and pain I endured to have you say this ; but have you fully forgiven me, Mr Winthrop, and may we take up our friendship as before ? " , " Must we take it up as before, Medoline? I have found I cannot be satisfied with your friendship only?" " I do not understand you." " You drove me away, and you have forced me to return — must I leave again ? I cannot remain «r 388 MEDOLINE SELWYirS WORK. 9 ' t"l 11 V^i it A near you any longer with our relation to each other unchanged. I must have your love or nothing. Friendship between us, and nothing more, is out of the question. Can you not learn to love me, Medoline?" I turned and placed both my hands in his. " Does this mean love instead of fear ? Remem- ber you told me not long ago you were afraid of me ; answer me truly, little one; do hand and heart go together?" " If you care to have them," I murmured softly, "but, have you forgotten Mrs. Le Grande? " Long ago I ceased to think of her, only as one may remember a brief surrender to an ignoble pas- sion. The mistake I made waa in measuring womanhood generally by her standard— you have taught me, my darling, that angels have not yet ceased to visit our poor earth." "Oh, Mr. Winthrop, you must not go to the other extreme or I shall soon disappoint you." " You are all I could wish, Medoline. If it were possible I would not ask any change in mind or body, my Eve—fresh from the hand of God." His words frightened me ; for how could I ever fulfill his expectations ? He read my face. " Are you sure, Medoline, you love me as I want to be loved by my wife? Have you gained your woman's heart with its full capacity for love or suf- fering, or are you still only a child ? " ! WOBK. ition to each other • love or nothing. thing more, is out learn to love me, hands in his. of fear? Remem- were afraid of me ; hand and heart go I murmured softly, Le Grande?" of her, only as one r to an ignoble pas- was in measuring standard — ^you have ngels have not yet lUst not go to the Lisappoint you." ;edoline. If it were change in mind or hand of God." )r how could I ever ead my face. )U love me as I want re you gained your acity for love or suf- shild?" TUE aOUI^D OF MAlililAQE BELLS. 389 »*I could die for you, Mr Winthrop, if it were for your good; 1 do not ask for anything better than to be near you always in time and eternity." " Since how long have you regarded me in this way, Medoline ? " " You remember that long night holding my hand, when I was at the worst of the fever? I saw everything clearly then. My spirit seemed to get away from the body, or very nearly so, and looked on things as it had never done before." « Did you wonder after that why I left you so abruptly?" " For a long time I thought you were still at Oaklands. Every day I used to hope you might come, or send me a message." " You shall never be so left again till death sep arates us." "If you cared for me then, why did you leave me ? " I asked timidly. " If I cared for you then, Medoline 1 Why don't you ask me when first I began to love you? " " I did not think to ask." "Do you remember that day in the autumn when you had the Mill Road people here?" "Yes." "You camo to me, if you remember, with the widow Larkum's baby in your arms, a very timid, and beseeching look on your face at the same time." I nodded in reply. tiif 390 MEDOLINB SELWYN'S WOUK. " My heart went out to you then and there, as it never did to any woman. I had been fascinated and amused with your ways before that. How 1 have waited and hoped since then to see you turn to me with the love-light in your eyes I Fear lest I might lose my self-restraint and speak too soon, drove me from yt)u— fear lest some other man would win what I so passionately craved has brought me back. Darling, you have made this the happiest day of my life." ~-~-.^^-^-^; ^^-^:r - : r: : ^", S ue : e ^ - ^ ^ '-*- - - -' '^^^ S WORK. then and there, as liad been fascinated ifore that. How 1 len to see you turn ur eyes I Fear lest ind speak too soon, it some other man nately craved haa ou have made this I? CHAPTER XXIX. THE END. I NEVER saw Mrs. Le Grande again alive. The following morning I made my confession to Mr. Winthrop, and got his consent to contmue my visits to the sick room, at Rose Cottage, until recovery or death should take place. My one anxiety as I walked along the field and woodland that day, was lest my face might reveal to her keen vision the gladness that thriUed aU my pulses. I did not wait to ring the bell but went directly to her rooms. The parlor door was closed; when I opened it, at the farther end of the room I was « Urtled ^ see a white-robed form lying on one of the sofas. I hesitated with sudden fear, but finally sum- moning all my resolution I crossed the room and lod beside the clay-cold form of Mrs. Le Grande^ The nurse who was in the adjoining room came to my side and after a few seconds' silence she said, gently: m"' \ If' MEDOLINE SELWYN'S WORK. "I never felt so lonesome with any dying per- son as with her last night." "Did she know she was dying? " "Yes, we told her. It seemed dreadful to let her go before her Maker without a prayer for mercy, but her thoughts, for all we told her, were more about this world than the next, She made her will as soon as the doctor came. We sent for liim in haste, and then she told us what to put on her when we prepared her for the coffin. That's the gown she was to have been married in. She said: 'Mr. Winthrop shall see his bride in her wedding dress, at last.' " I looked at the rich white satin, with its exquisite trimming of lace, and the fresh gathered roses in- stead of orange blossoms. " Did she say nothing about where her soul was going? " I asked, yet dreading a reply. " After he'd got the will drawn, the doctor asked her if her business for another world was satisfac- torily arranged; but she said the next world would have to wait its turn after she'd got there ; she had no strength left to make any more preparations. " I turned away, too sick at heart to listen longer, but the nurse followed me with a message from the dying woman. "It was her special request that you and Mr. Winthrop should come to her funeral, and after- ward be present at the reading of the will. I am 8 ]VORK. itli any dying per- led dreadful to let hout a prayer for 11 we told her, were e next, She made 3ame. We sent for J us what to put on the coffin. That's in married in. She ee his bride in her in, with its exquisite h gathered roses in- where her soul was a reply. ivn, the doctor asked r world was satisfac- lie next world would d got there ; she had more preparations. " eart to listen longer, ith a message from t that you and Mr. r funeral, and after- g of the will. I am THE END. 893 not at liberty to explain, but I think you will re- gret it if you do not come. She said that was to be the sign of reconciliation between her and Mr. Winthrop." " I will deliver the message, and, if possible, pre- vail on him to come," I promised, and then hastily left the house. When I reached home I went directly to the library where I found Mr. Winthroi). He looked surprised to see me back so soon, and then, noticing traces of tears on my face, said: " What is wrong, little one ? " "Mra. Le Grande died sometime during the night. The nurse told me sihe showed no anxiety respecting her future state," He was silent. At last 1 said: "You have for given her, Mr. Winthrop ? " " Forgiven her ! Yes, Medoline ; and if she had lived, I could never havo repaid her for the lesson she taught me, and the favor she conferred on me by going away so abruptly." ♦' Then you will grant her last request that we should both attend her funeral, and the reading of her will. I have an impression she has left each of us some keepsake, as a token of her repent- ance." "Don't you think, little one, that would be a mercenary motive to take us there ? " " But I want you to grant her dying request," I murmured, already ashamed of my argument. L t0 394 MhWOLINE SELWrN'S WORK. m "We will both go, assuredly ; and in the mean- time I shall see that preparations for her funeral are suitably arranged." "You will look upon her dead face: she left directions as to liow she should be robed for the grave. She said you should see your bride in her wedding dress at last." " I expeot, before many weeks, to see my own precious bride. I shall be indifferent as to her dress. It will be herself I shall look at," he said with a caress that for the time made me forget Mi-s. Le Grande. We went to the funeral, to which went also a good part of the townsfolk ; for curiosity was on tip-toe. Thomas was greatly mystified when Mr. Winthrop, leaving Mrs. Flaxraan at Oaklands, bade him drive us back to Linden Lane. Dr. Hill was there, and Mrs. Le Grande's lawyer from New York, and Dr. Townshend, who had drawn her will, with the nurse and landlady, who \v^re her witnesses. Presently the lawyer put on his spec- tacles, and broke the seal, and then in a hard, dry voice began to read the will. I listened with languid interest until presently Mr. Winthrop's name was mentioned. I looked at him with keen surprise. Could it be possible Mrs. Le Grande had willed him the bulk of her fortune ? His face was pale, I could see no trace of a satisfaction one might naturally expect on the face of another at such un- '8 WOUK. r ; and in the mean- ons for her funeral (lead face: she left Id be robed for tlio ee your bride in her eks, to see my own idiflferent as to her all look at," he said aie made me forget J which went also a for curiosity was on mystified when Mr. xman at Oaklanda, iden Lane. Dr. Hill e's lawyer from New who had drawn her dlady, who w*ere her yer put on his spec- d then in a hard, dry ill. I listened with itly Mr. Winthrop's ed at him with keen I Mrs. Le Grande had rtune ? His face was satisfaction one might d another at such un- THE END. 800 expected accession of wealth ; rather ho looked grieved and shocked. Before I liad time to recover niyst'.f my own name was read off in the even, uu- impassioned tones of :.e lawyer. She left me her jewelry, pictures, and other valuables. It seemed like one of the fairy tales of my childhood. There was something pathetic, too, in the wording of her will : " I hope they will adorn a happier woman than I have been," as if that, too, were a legacy she bequeathed me. The formality of reading the will ended, Mr. Winthrop asked for an immediate and private in- terview with the lawyer. Afterward I learned it was to see if some informality could not be discov- ered, rendering the will illegal, but this was impos- sible. He took the money as a sacred trust, expend- ing the interest year by year on religious and be- nevolent objects. Into many a heathen household has it already carried the blessed light of the gospel— to many a' burdened heart has it come to lighten the load of poverty and care. The story of one memorable year of -v life is told. It was the prelude to many lappier year. tt M ??t53gSi3SSJil«S5^Sr«^*^^S!«»iK*w»««s^=»as.S5K.« .itiiE- tsrt^^s: ^^J^««itwi!3t55^^V!^ : '■^~^"'krT3SaTB;i/^rc''rT-*!^^i.ii!^\«r-wm'«TP^^'3n?^s«'-^^