Chapter Twenty-first.
"You are meek and humble mouth'd; You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility; but your heart Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride." --SHAKS. HENRY VIIITH.
"OH, what's that? what's that?" cried a chorus of young voices, as Mrs.Keith and her little troop, returning from their morning stroll, steppedinto the front porch at home.
"What indeed!" echoed the mother, as much surprised as any one of theothers. "It looks very like a box of goods; but where could it comefrom?"
"Aunt Wealthy," suggested Mildred, examining it with a curious eye.
"Ah, so you have come back at last, eh?" said Mr. Keith coming out witha smiling face. "That's been waiting for you for over an hour,"consulting his watch. "Come let's have dinner and then we'll see what'sinside."
"Is it ready?" asked Mrs. Keith, taking off her bonnet.
"Yes; barely time for the washing of small hands and faces," he said,picking up Annis and racing off to the nursery with her; for so theycalled the room where the little ones slept and were dressed andundressed, though but a small part of the day was ordinarily spentthere.
There was no lingering over the dinner table, though the meal was a goodone, and the children's appetites had been sufficiently keen until theysaw the box.
They ate and drank with dispatch, taking time for but little talk beyonda few conjectures as to its probable contents.
Father and mother certainly shared their curiosity and eagerness to someextent, and did not keep them waiting long.
A few minutes' work with the hatchet and the lid was off.
"Just newspapers!" cried Don, in a tone of bitter disappointment.
"Wait a bit, laddie," laughed Rupert.
"Something else under, I guess," said Cyril, while father, mother andMildred made haste to lift and lay aside the papers for further perusal,for newspapers were too rare in those days to be despised, even thoughsome weeks old.
"Books! oh delightful!"
"How good and kind in her!"
"Now we'll have a feast!" exclaimed one and another in varying tones ofgladness.
"What are they? let us see," said Mr. Keith proceeding to lift them outone or two at a time, and with a glance at the titles on the backs,handing them to wife, son or daughter.
"Cooper's Naval History of the United States! There, that willparticularly interest you, Rupert.
"And here are his novels, which mother and Mildred will enjoy. Scott'sworks also: those for older folks and his 'Tales of a Grandfather' forthe children. Two more little books--'Anna Ross,' and 'Ruth Lee.'"
"Oh, they look pretty!" cried Zillah and Ada, peeping into these last.
"'Dunallan' for me! oh how glad I am!" exclaimed Mildred the nextinstant.
"Here's a bundle," said Mr. Keith, handing it out.
"Remnants, I presume," his wife said laughingly, and opening it foundher surmise correct.
Groceries, candies and toys for the children, and some few othermiscellaneous articles filled up the rest of this most welcome box.
"Dear old auntie! She shouldn't have wasted so much of her money on us,"Mrs. Keith said with tears in her eyes, as she glanced over a notepinned to a dress pattern for herself. "But she says she has enjoyed itintensely, and I know that is so; for giving, especially to us, is hergreatest delight."
"Yes, there never was a more generous soul," assented her husband.
"Ah, if we could only do something for her in return!" exclaimedMildred.
"Yes, indeed! what a feast she has provided us!" cried Rupert, taking apeep here and there into the history. "Mother, can't we begin on themthis afternoon?"
"I'm not ready for Mr. Lord," objected Mildred, "and in an hour it willbe time to go to him."
That reminded the lad that he, too, had a lesson to prepare, and he leftthe room to attend to it.
"Wife," said Mr. Keith, "do you know that little Mary Chetwood isseriously ill?"
"No, I did not, I'll put on my bonnet and go over there at once."
"Mother," said Mildred, "I've been thinking it would be nice to lend oneof these books to Effie Prescott. I do not know her at all intimately,but Claudina says she is very intelligent and fond of reading, and insuch poor health that she is often too miserably weak and ill to doanything but read."
"Certainly! she must have the reading of every book in the house, if shewishes, and will not abuse them."
"Claudina says she is always very careful of those she lends her, andvery glad to get them. She's a lovely Christian, too, and very patientunder her trials."
"Yes; I have been pleased with the little I have seen of her. I believeI owe Mrs. Prescott a call; so I shall take their house on my way to thesquire's and carry a book with me."
Mrs. Keith found Mrs. Prescott out, the invalid girl lying back in alarge rocking chair, and Damaris Drybread seated, in her accustomed boltupright fashion, directly opposite.
At sight of Mrs. Keith, Effie started up in nervous haste andtrepidation, to offer her hand and then a chair.
"Never mind, dear child, I will help myself," said the lady, pressingthe trembling hand tenderly in hers. "How are you to-day?"
"About as usual, thank you; which is neither very sick nor very well,"the girl answered with a faint smile, sinking back again, breathingshort and hard.
"Now don't talk so; you look very well," remarked Miss Drybread in acold, hard tone. "Just make up your mind that there's nothing much thematter, and you're not going to give up to the hypo, and ten to one itwon't be long till you find yourself well enough."
Tears sprang to Effie's eyes, for she was both nervous and sensitive tothe last degree.
"I know I look well," she said. "I'm not thin, and I have a good color;but it's often brightest when I feel the worst. And I've tried tobelieve my sickness was all imagination, but I can't; it's too real."
"No, Effie, you do not look well," said Mrs. Keith; "that brilliantbloom hardly belongs to health, and your eyes are heavy, yourcountenance is distressed."
"Of course she'll wear a distressed countenance as long as she imaginesshe's sick," observed the schoolma'am severely. "And you, Mrs. Keith,are only making matters worse by talking in that way."
"Not so," said the sick girl, "such kind sympathy does me good. Oh,thank you a thousand times!" as Mrs. Keith put "Dunallan" into herhands. "I shall enjoy it so much, and will be very careful of it, andreturn it soon. I read it years ago and liked it exceedingly, and itwill be new to me now. Grace Kennedy is such a sweet writer; what a pityshe died so early!"
"A novel!" sniffed Damaris. "If you are really sick you oughtn't to readanything but the Bible."
"The teachings of this book are so fully in accord with those of theScriptures, that I can not think it will hurt her," said Mrs. Keith.
"I love the Bible," said Effie, "I never could do without it; its wordsoften come to me when I am sad and suffering and are 'sweeter than honeyand the honeycomb,' but reading other good books seems like talking witha Christian friend, and refreshes me in the same way."
At this moment Mrs. Prescott came in and greeting the two callers with apleasant "Good afternoon," sat down to chat with them.
The talk presently turned upon their gardens, and Mrs. Prescott invitedthe visitors to walk out and look at hers.
Mrs. Keith accepted the invitation, but Miss Drybread said she wouldjust sit with Effie till they came back.
"Aren't you teaching now, Miss Damaris?" asked the girl, as the othersleft the room.
"No, I've closed my school for a couple of weeks to do my springsewing."
"It was kind in you to take time to call to see me when you are alwaysso busy."
"I try to attend to every duty," returned the schoolma'am, with asanctimonious air "and I felt that I had a duty to perform here. I'vebeen thinking a good deal about you, Effie; trying to find out why yourafflictions are sent; and I've concluded that it's as a punishment foryour sins, and t
hat when you repent and reform, your health will bebetter.
"You know Christians (and I really hope you're one; I know you belong tothe church) won't have any punishment in the other world; so they haveto take it in this, and so, as I said, I've been considering about you,and I think if you thought better of Brother Smith and enjoyed hissermons and prayers and talks in the meetin's, 'twould be better foryou.
"He's a good Christian and so you'd ought to like what he says, and behis friend with other folks that isn't inclined to listen to him."
"He may be a Christian; I hope he is," returned Effie, "though it isvery difficult for me to realize that a man has much true love to Christand for souls, when his tone and manner are utterly indifferent andbusiness like (or perhaps that isn't quite the right word; for mengenerally show some interest in their business).
"Besides it requires other things in addition to conversion to fit aman for teaching; he must have knowledge and the ability to impart it.
"I have nothing against Mr. Smith personally, but he does not instructme, does not give me any food for thought, or help me on my way toheaven. So I felt it my duty to object to having him become my pastor.But I haven't been going about slandering him, and don't know why youcome and talk to me in this way.
"It strikes me, too, that you are the last person to do it--as I haveheard you say far harder things of other ministers than ever I've saidof him."
An angry flush rose in the sallow cheek of the spinster at that.
"I've tried to do my duty always," she said, bridling. "I've neverindulged in any vanities of dress; but that's been one of your sins,Effie Prescott; bows and even flowers and feathers on your bonnets, andknots of bright ribbon at your throat and in your hair. It's sinful andyou may depend you'll be afflicted till you'll give up and be consistentin all things."
"I know better than you can tell me, that I deserve all I suffer and agreat deal more," said the girl humbly, tears gathering in her eyes;"but for all that I don't believe you are right. You are a Job'scomforter, and God reproved those men for talking so to him.
"And don't you remember what Jesus said about trying to take the moteout of your brother's eye while there is a beam in your own?"
"I see its time for me to go," said Damaris, rising.
She stood a moment looking at Effie, her lips compressed, her face whiteand her eyes ablaze with rage.
"There's no Christian spirit about you," she hissed, "you don't likefaithful dealing; you don't want to be told of your sins. Very well,Miss, I wash my hands of you; I shake off the dust of my feet againstyou."
And with arms folded on her breast and head erect, she stalked out ofthe house, leaving the invalid girl quivering from head to foot withnervous excitement and distress, crying and laughing hysterically.
"Oh dear! oh dear!" she sighed to herself. "I haven't behaved in aChristian manner; I was angry at what she said."
Mrs. Prescott and Mrs. Keith were strolling in from the garden, chattingpleasantly of their domestic affairs, when an infant's screams wereheard coming from a back room.
"There, my baby is awake and calling for his mother," said Mrs.Prescott. "Please excuse me a minute. Just step into the parlor againand talk with Effie."
Mrs. Keith complied and found Effie alone, lying back in her chair,trembling, flushed and tearful.
"My poor child! are you suffering very much?" she asked, bending overher and smoothing her hair with a caressing motion.
"No, ma'am, I'm not worse--only--it was something that Damaris said; andthat I didn't take it quite as I ought.
"Oh, Mrs. Keith, do you think God sends sickness to punish us for oursins? and that my health is poor because I'm more wicked than anybodywho is well?"
"Certainly not. I have excellent health as a general thing, while manyan eminent saint has been a great sufferer.
"We know that sin brought disease and death into the world and that Godsometimes sends afflictions as chastisements; but to his own people itis in love and for their growth in grace.
"'As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore andrepent.' 'Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every sonwhom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as withsons.'
"Remembering that, would you wish to escape it?"
"Oh no, no! But oh, it makes the burden so much heavier to think that itis because He is angry with me!"
"It is because he loves you. Do not look at it as punishment, but asdiscipline; as the cutting and carving which are necessary to bring outthe beautiful statue from the shapeless block of marble, or to changethe diamond in the rough to the brilliant sparkling gem.
"As to the idea that the Christian bears any part of the penalty of hissins--atoning for them by his own suffering, or his works, or in anyother way, either in this life or the next,--it is totally unscriptural.'For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one thatbelieveth.'"
"O, thank you, so much, so very much!" she exclaimed, looking upgratefully. "What wonderful love His was, and who would not be willingto bear any suffering to be made like unto Him?"
"That is unquestionably a Christian spirit," said Mrs. Keith; "none butthose who have felt the burden of sin and learned to hunger and thirstafter righteousness know that ardent desire for conformity to Hisimage."
"You make my heart glad!" cried the girl. "Damaris just told me therewas no Christian spirit about me; and I'm often afraid there isn't; yetI do love Jesus and desire His love more than anything else. I want todo and suffer all His holy will!"
Little Mary Chetwood, a sweet child of six, was the only daughter exceptClaudina, and coming after some half dozen boys, naturally became, fromthe first, a great pet and darling, made much of by parents, sister andbrothers.
Yet she was not a spoiled child; she had been taught obedience,religiously trained, and not indulged to her hurt.
Love and wise indulgence do no harm, but quite the contrary; whileharshness, a dearth of affection, and undue severity have ruined many aone for time and eternity.
Mrs. Keith found the Chetwoods a distressed household; for though thelittle girl had been but two days ill, such was the violence of theattack that it was already apparent that there was small hope ofrecovery.
"This is kind," whispered Mrs. Chetwood, pressing her friend's hand,while tears coursed down her cheeks. "The darling won't be tended byany body but mother, father or sister, but your very presence is acomfort."
"I should have been here sooner, but did not know of her illness tillthis afternoon," Mrs. Keith responded in the same subdued key. "If I canbe of any use, I will take off my bonnet and stay; it is perfectlyconvenient."
The offer was gratefully accepted, a note dispatched to Mildred,entrusting the children at home to her care till such time as her mothercould be of no more service at the squire's, and Mrs. Keith's gentleministries in the sick room began.
Her quiet movements, her thoughtfulness, quick comprehension andfertility of resource, made her invaluable at such a time.
The end came sooner than was expected; day was just breaking when, withher head on the bosom of her who gave her birth, the little one gentlybreathed her last.
In all the trying scenes that followed, Mr. and Mrs. Keith and Mildredwere most kind, helpful and sympathizing, and the ties of Christianfriendship were thus more closely drawn than ever between the twofamilies.
The bereaved family found their home sadly desolated, but there was nomurmuring against the Hand that dealt the blow; the language of theirhearts was, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be thename of the Lord."
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