Daphne Deane

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Now and again Daphne lifted her eyes dreamily to the window, her glance far away to a distant hill she could just glimpse, as some great truth from the Word broke upon her consciousness. And sometimes she thought about Keith Morrell and wondered why God had sent him back to them for that one day. Was it possibly to round out the picture of the other house in which they had always been so interested? Then she would resolutely turn her thoughts away from him. She must not spoil her ideals by trying to get too close to them and bring them down to earth. Of course, she would never be likely to see him again, and she did not want to spoil her memory of him by any personal thoughts.

  When she heard the far faint bell ringing again she knew it was time for her to go down and help with breakfast, and with a lingering wistful look at the sweet morning distance she closed her Bible.

  The dew was mostly gone from the sunny places now, and she noted that the mysterious footprints were entirely obliterated. Perhaps they had all been in her imagination. She was getting too sensitive to that house and all things associated with it. She must snap out of it. She was no longer a child to subsist on fairy tales.

  Then after another moment upon her knees, asking strength and guidance for the day, she went downstairs humming softly:

  "I have seen the face of Jesus,

  Tell me not of aught beside.

  I have heard the voice of Jesus,

  And my soul is satisfied."

  Chapter 14

  Two hours later the Reverend Drew Addison paused, smiling beside Daphne Deane as she sat at the head of her Sunday school class of girls, and bending down said in a low tone: "I want to see you for a minute after church service. Wait around, won't you, and perhaps I can walk down with you. I have a sick call to make out in your direction, and I want to ask you something."

  Daphne nodded pleasantly and went on singing, and the minister walked up to the platform to offer the opening prayer.

  Daphne as she bowed her head was wondering what he wanted of her now. She had been to the symphony concert on Friday evening and would have had a very enjoyable time listening to the music, except that her companion made incessant remarks and criticisms. He didn't like the guest conductor, he criticized his interpretation of the music, he had a good deal to say about the first cellist, comparing his technique unpleasantly with other famous cellists he had heard, and he made himself so obnoxious to the people sitting near that Daphne could not but be aware of the cold glances that were turned in their direction. He might be a far better musician than she was and have heard many more famous players, but he certainly was a most uncomfortable companion. So now she was troubled. Was he going to ask her to go to the concert next month, or did he want her to prepare a program for the Rally Day service? Either of these things was equally objectionable to her. She delighted in good music and would have liked nothing better than to hear a concert each month, but not in the minister's company, not only because of his habit of interrupting all the loveliest passages but also because she did not wish to be singled out from the congregation for his exclusive attentions. The minister's brief whispered word made a decided ruffle in the peace of soul wherewith she had begun the day.

  He preached an eloquent sermon on improving the talents and enjoying the gifts that God has given. He said that art and music and beauty had been given by God to widen and polish our souls and that no man had a right to ignore these things. Every man, although he was a day laborer, should own at least one lovely picture, should go often to picture galleries, and to hear good music or get it over the radio. He likened it to a soul-bath and said God had put the arts into the world to make man more fit to live in heaven by and by, and the man who neglected these things was as bad as the man who broke the whole ten commandments. He used many original phrases and forceful words, and made up in well-rounded sentences for his lack of real spiritual truth. He took as his text: "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning."

  Daphne grew more and more troubled as she listened, and finally closed her eyes sheltered by her hand and began to pray.

  She was gravely serious on the way home, still troubled about that sermon. But the minister did not seem to notice her silence. He was eager about the beauty of the day, impatient that his duties prevented his using it for an outing.

  "Such days are rare, you know," he said enthusiastically. "They ought not to be wasted in everyday routine. There ought to be a law declaring holiday in especially lovely weather."

  Daphne met his bright look with a troubled gaze.

  "It's a lovely day to worship the Lord," she said with a warm smile.

  "Yes, of course, there is that side, too. It does bring better audiences, and that makes it more worthwhile to make an effort to get up better sermons. Brings better collections, too, and that counts for a good deal. But still, it always goes hard with me to have to get up and preach twice a day and go to Sunday school and all the extra meetings, when the day is so charming that your soul is just longing for the wider reaches of the great out-of-doors. Just to lie in a canoe and watch the clouds go by, listen to the bird songs, watch the hemlock boughs dipping into the lazy water. You have such a charming creek here! I'm going to enjoy it a lot. I've brought a canoe, and I hope you'll enjoy it with me sometimes."

  Daphne gave him a troubled smile.

  "The creek is lovely, of course," she said. "We have a canoe ourselves and often go out when we have the time. But it's always such a delight to me to have a whole day to spend on things of the Lord, instead of things of this world. It seems to me a priceless privilege to tell others of His grace and glory. And don't you think the church services can be just as restful and refreshing for our spirits, as the creek is to our tired nerves?" she suggested. "I think that when a message makes me feel the presence of the Lord Jesus and gives my eyes a chance to look beyond the things of this life into the far reaches of eternity, it irons out all the wrinkles of my soul and gives me new hope and joy and comfort."

  "Well," said the minister, a bit amused at her earnestness, "that's a very pretty way to look at it, but I doubt if you would if you had to preach twice on Sunday with a lot of extra trifles thrown in. You see, though my profession necessitates keeping my head in the clouds to some extent, I still have my feet on the ground!"

  "And how!" murmured Donald to himself, turning his gaze toward the mountains and scowling.

  Daphne was silent. It seemed as if she was always having to disagree with this new minister. As if somehow she was continually putting herself in the position of mentor to him, and she could see that it only amused him.

  Donald had dropped behind them now, and the minister lowered his voice and spoke more confidentially: "By the way, what I wanted to speak to you about was this. Are you busy on Tuesday evening?"

  "Well, not necessarily," said Daphne pleasantly. "I was planning something, but I could perhaps put it off for something important. Was there something you wanted me to do? You're not having that committee meeting then, are you?"

  "Oh, no!" laughed the minister. "It's not work; it's something better than that. It's recreation. I wondered if you wouldn't like to run up to New York with me just for the evening? We could take the midnight train back to the city and get a taxi out to Rosedale. We could take the five o'clock train up and eat our dinner on the train and then have the evening in New York. You see, there's a very charming play that is being given there and I thought it would be pleasant for us to see it together. My brother wrote me about it and said I really ought to see it. It is exceptionally fine. It's on Warren Housing's new book Soul Strivings, and the author has handled his subject in a very daring manner. The psychological conclusions are quite enlightening and the actors are all stars. Of course, it will likely appear later in our own city, but that's the bore of being a clergyman. One has to be so careful not to offend a few prudish fanatics in the church, so I generally choose such outings away from home.
Then I can relax and really enjoy them. Do you think you would like to go?"

  "Thank you, no, Mr. Addison," said Daphne quickly. "I never attend the theater."

  "Oh, well, of course I don't, either, not here at home, not habitually, but when I'm away on vacation I think I have a right to a little wholesome amusement, and I take it. Of course, I'm careful not to transgress anywhere near enough to home for word to get back to any strait-laced elders." He laughed whimsically. "But you don't consider it a sin to go to the theater, do you?" His eyes challenged hers with one of his cynical little smiles.

  "A sin?" said Daphne, lifting her serious eyes to his glance without wavering. "It isn't a question of sin, is it?"

  The Reverend Drew Addison lifted perplexed brows.

  "What else, then?" he asked.

  " 'All things are lawful. . ., but all things are not expedient,' " quoted Daphne quietly. "We are here to witness for Christ, aren't we? 'If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth.' "

  "But surely, Miss Deane, you wouldn't take that literally. You wouldn't think it was right to deprive yourself of all harmless amusement just for the sake of some weak sister who can't take the good things of this world in moderation, would you?" He was smiling down at her in superiority, as if he were trying to show a little child her mistake.

  But Daphne looked up earnestly.

  "Shall the weak brother perish for whom Christ died?"

  "But, my dear young lady, you are carrying things too far. Besides, I was proposing that we go to New York to enjoy this play. No one would know we had gone. There seems no possible way that knowledge of our action could come back to our parish."

  "Perhaps not," said Daphne, "but I've just been trying to make my girls understand what it means to reckon themselves dead to the flesh that Christ may live in them. Do you think I could go on talking and praying with them along those lines if I were doing the very thing that I happen to know is pulling some of them into the world, making them forget God? And besides, Mr. Addison, there's something deeper than even that. It is my own personal relation to Christ. I'm satisfied that things that are openly acknowledged even by the world to belong to the world, are not helpful to a Christian. You see, I want to lay aside all weights that might hinder my running, or my fellowship with Christ."

  "Oh, my dear girl!" said the young man in a vexed tone. "You are taking life much too seriously. I seem to recognize a lot of trite phrases that are being bandied about today by so-called evangelists and Bible teachers, and they do not sound well on your lips. You are too intelligent to say such things. Why, my dear friend, you are young. You are just starting out in life, and it is your right to have a grand, good time and not go around with a continual long face. You should be happy and unhampered. You should enjoy all the good things that God has put upon this earth for your happiness. They are all broadening, educating arts, and they were meant for your use. If you had not been so narrow as to set your stakes down against the enjoyment of life, you would by this time have seen enough of the good things of life to know how silly you are to refuse them. You would understand by experience what richness and delight you are passing up in refusing so-called worldly amusements. A minister, of course, has to walk circumspectly on account of malicious gossips who do not understand the relative values of these things and have a mistaken idea of true religion in the daily life. But a girl in your position should have no hindrances and no limitations to her enjoyment of life, within respectable reason, of course. You are making a very grave mistake my dear, and I feel it my duty to warn you against fanaticism and prudery. You will certainly hurt your influence among young people if you try to order your life along such lines, and you will miss the joy out of life."

  Then Daphne lifted her face radiantly, in her eyes the shining of one who has caught a vision that others have not seen.

  "Mr. Addison," she said, and her voice was clear so that Donald, standing just within the gateway, leisurely picking a flower from a shrub and fastening it into his buttonhole, heard every syllable. " 'I have seen the face of Jesus. Tell me not of aught besides. I have heard the voice of Jesus, and my soul is satisfied.' "

  The minister studied her face for a moment with that superior smile of his. Then he lifted his chin a bit haughtily and said with the tone of one who was far wiser and better informed than she was: "Well, I certainly am disappointed in you. I had thought better things of you than this. I had thought there was at least one young woman in my church who had had a broad and artistic education, but it seems I am mistaken. And you won't be persuaded to come with me this once to New York and see for yourself what you are missing, and how harmless it is?"

  "No," said Daphne firmly, the radiance still in her face. "I cannot. And--I do not want to go into the world. My soul is really satisfied with Him!"

  Drew Addison studied her face for a moment more in a kind of wonder and speculation. Then he lifted his hat a trifle haughtily and turned away. Daphne, with her cheeks glowing and her heart beating a little wildly, turned and found her brother walking beside her.

  "Great work, Daffy," said Donald, suiting his step to hers. "Proud of my big sister. She stood out against the preacher and won out! My hat! How did we ever happen to call that piece of cheese to our church? What's he think he's got ta preach about, anyway? My eye! Where did he get his so-called education? He doesn't seem ta know the first principles of being a minister, and I don't believe he even knew you were quoting the Bible, either. I was watching his face and he looked kind of startled as if he didn't know what you meant. My little sister standing out agin the minister! Ain't that grand!"

  "Oh, but it makes me so ashamed, Donald," said Daphne almost ready to cry and putting her cold hands on her hot cheeks.

  "Ashamed? My word! What've you got ta be ashamed about, I should liketa know?"

  "Why, me, daring to speak out against something that an ordained minister says!"

  "Ordained minister, my eye!" sneered Donald. "Who ordained him? Just men! And what did they ordain him for, I'd liketa know? A man that would talk the way he did! What would old Dr. Shaw say if he heard? Why, Daffy, d'you realize what he said? He actually said he thought better things of you than that you should be satisfied with the Lord! That's practically what he said. Yes, he did! I'll tell ya what I think, and I'll bet a hat I'm right. I don't think that man ever knew the Lord himself, or he couldn't talk such fool nonsense."

  And the minister walking away by himself, somewhat baffled but not discouraged, was thinking to himself: That girl has a fine mind! A little careful instruction will make her into a fine woman. What eyes she has. She would be a beauty if she were fixed up a little. Not much. It isn't her type. Just a touch of blush, a mere suggestion of lipstick, shadows under those eyes, and she would be magnificent! I must see what I can do for her. I must order my sermons so that they will unconsciously mold her thinking. It may even be that my message this morning stirred her to this antagonism by its very opposite viewpoint from what she has always held. But when she thinks it over she will see the truth of what I said. It won't be an easy task to change her, but it will be an interesting one. She needs a certain pleasant sophistication, which I feel sure I can give her, and then what a success she would be as a minister's wife in some rich city church! It certainly is worthwhile trying.

  So he went on to visit his sick parishioner, quite satisfied and planning a series of educative sermons that should do the trick of turning Daphne Deane into a young woman of the world.

  But Daphne went into the house greatly troubled. Was this the minister to whose coming they had looked forward with so much eagerness? They had felt that he would be such a wonderful influence on the young people in the community. He was said to be so full of life and so sympathetic with the young. She seemed to remember the exact phrases used by the elder who was chairman of the committee appointed to select a minister. Other phrases from his report concerning Mr. Addison kept coming to her mind as she went slowly upstairs to
take off her hat and put on a house dress to help with the dinner. He had said that the young man was broad and progressive and had the name of gathering the young people around him and getting them into church work. But now that she thought it over, there had not been a single word about his spirituality, his consecration, his wisdom in winning souls. They had just taken all that for granted and read them into the endorsement eagerly, so glad to have found a minister at last after almost a year of candidating.

  But it was too late to go back over that now. He was here, called and installed, established in the church and community. There was nothing to be done about it but pray, and after all, that was the greatest power a Christian had in any matter. God held even the hearts of kings in His hand, and He could make this all come out for the best. Arguing and disagreeing couldn't do any good, but God could change anything. With God all things were possible.

  So before she went down to the kitchen, Daphne knelt beside her bed and prayed for the young minister who was just then planning a series of educative sermons for her benefit. Then with the burden laid down, she arose and went downstairs with a serene brow.

  Chapter 15

  By Sunday night William Knox was almost beside himself, for Martha was on her high horse riding him to death. She had got out of him exactly how much money the man Gowney had given him, just how he had worded the receipt he had given, and where William had put the money. Indeed, she had made him let her count it and examine each ragged, dirty bill critically, although Martha would not have known a counterfeit twenty-dollar bill if there had been one there. And then she had made him rummage through the old toolbox in the woodshed till he found two chain bolts, which she had him put on the front and back doors. After which she had sent him forth again to find news of Gowney, since it was of no further use to try and get in touch with young Morrell until Monday, as they had only his office address.