“Splendid, dear. Be sure to run get me if she needs me. And if she becomes drowsy, let her sleep.”
“I will!” replied Betsy and ran off eagerly. Then she paused and turned. “Do you know when Sister Hope will be back?” she asked.
“No, Betsy dear. But I am sure it will not be many more days.”
They turned and continued toward the house as Betsy scampered off toward the wood.
Twenty minutes later the three women and two naval officers were gathered in the east sitting room, whose window looked out across the lawn toward the heather garden, enjoying tea and light conversation. It had become obvious to Jocelyn that Lieutenant Forbes was still somewhat shaken by the death of her husband, as well as her son’s having saved his life. Though his head injuries appeared to have healed, it was clear that, for his part, the visit had been intended to help put his mind at ease regarding the family of the man who had saved his life and lost his own.
“I am so glad to see that you are all doing well,” he had just said.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” agreed Jocelyn. “We miss Charles and George, and always will. But we know where they are, and therefore we are at peace.”
Forbes took the words in with a thoughtful nod. “It has been difficult for me to put the incident behind me,” he said, “but being here with you helps a great deal.”
As they continued to chat together, Lieutenant Langham now turned toward Amanda.
“When I saw your sister in London, Miss Rutherford,” he said, “she mentioned that you were in the city consulting with Rev. Diggorsfeld about your marriage—”
“You saw Catharine . . . when?” replied Amanda, glancing back and forth between the two.
“When the two of you were in London. Miss Rutherford and I had a visit in Hyde Park.”
“I see,” nodded Amanda, throwing Catharine a mischievous smile. “I hadn’t realized that.”
“I wondered,” Langham went on, “whether you have had any further contact with Mr. Halifax.”
“No . . . none,” replied Amanda. “I had hoped you might have some news.”
“Unfortunately . . . no, I’m afraid,” replied Langham. “We have learned nothing either. So your . . . uh, marital status is unchanged?”
Amanda nodded.
Langham pulled his watch from his pocket and glanced down.
“We do need to be on our way,” he said. “We are due in Plymouth in two hours.”
“You’re not being reassigned?” asked Jocelyn.
“No,” Langham replied. “Only a temporary duty which I hope will be brief.”
“What is it?” asked Catharine.
“I am sorry, Miss Rutherford,” he answered, “but I cannot say.”
“Oh, a secret mission!” she said with a smile.
“Something like that. Let me just say that we are on a special assignment.”
“It sounds dangerous.”
“Let’s hope it won’t come to that. We are just trying to keep track of someone for the army.”
“But you are in the Royal Navy.”
“The army and navy have found it necessary to join forces in this case. It may be nothing, but with a war on, we have to be certain.”
“You’re following someone?”
“I think I have said enough,” he said with a light laugh. “Perhaps too much!”
Langham rose as if to leave.
“Before we go,” he said, glancing toward Jocelyn, “I wonder if I might have a word with you, Lady Rutherford . . . in private.”
The two girls glanced at one another.
“Of course, Lieutenant,” replied Jocelyn as she stood. “Come upstairs with me to the family sitting room.—Girls, I am sure you will be able to keep Lieutenant Forbes occupied.”
Catharine cast Amanda a look which said that she did not find the older Forbes nearly so interesting as the younger Langham.
“I will say my good-byes to you both now,” said Langham, turning toward each of the young women. Miss Rutherford . . .” he said to Catharine, “—Miss Amanda,” he added, now nodding toward Amanda.
“Good-bye, Lady Rutherford,” said Forbes, rising and shaking Jocelyn’s hand. “It was wonderful to see you again. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Lieutenant Forbes took his leave and went to wait in the car.
“Amanda,” said Catharine when they were alone, “I apologize again for what I said back there. I am so sorry.”
“Think nothing of it,” replied Amanda. “I’m sure what you said was true enough.”
“But I don’t want you to think I used to think that all the time. There were occasions when I would be confused or frustrated with things you would say and do. I admit it. But they were very rare; you’ve got to believe me. I have very fond memories of our childhood together.”
Amanda smiled, and the two sisters embraced.
About twenty minutes later they heard Lieutenant Langham’s booted footsteps coming down the stairs. They waited until the car engine started outside, then bolted from the sitting room and up the stairs in search of their mother. They met Jocelyn as she reached the first-floor landing.
“Mother, what was that all about!” exclaimed Catharine.
“Never mind,” said Jocelyn with a smile. “Just a private talk between me and the lieutenant.”
“Mother!”
“I’m sorry, but you will get nothing out of me. He made me promise.”
“Mother . . . please!”
“Let me turn the question back on you. What was all that about, Catharine—you and he meeting in London?”
“She won’t tell me a thing, Mother,” Amanda added. “I’ve been pestering her about it ever since Lieutenant Forbes left. I wondered why she was so bubbly on the train ride back to Devon!”
“And now you know,” said Jocelyn. “So, Catharine . . . it comes out that you had arranged to visit Lieutenant Langham all along.”
“I didn’t,” laughed Catharine. “It was a mere coincidence.”
“It still sounds suspicious to me,” rejoined her mother. “I don’t know whether we can believe you or not.”
59
Hope’s Return
Betsy had been watching the windows constantly for two days. Jocelyn had begun to worry that the girl was sinking back into the uncommunicative melancholy of her first days at Heathersleigh. She was slowly withdrawing and growing increasingly restive.
But the moment Betsy saw the carriage coming up the drive, she flew down the stairs and ran out to meet it, grinning from ear to ear. Sister Hope scarcely managed to set foot to the gravel before she was fairly overrun.
“Betsy dear!” she exclaimed laughing, trying to keep her balance amid a charging hug that nearly knocked her over.
“I couldn’t wait for you to get back,” said Betsy. “I have so many things to show you! I found another hummingbird nest.”
“I want to hear all about it,” laughed Hope. “First let me get my bags inside. And I have something exciting to tell you about too.”
“You do! What?”
“Help me with my bag, and then we shall take a walk together. You can show me the nest, and I will tell you my surprise.”
Already Betsy had grabbed one of the bags and was eagerly lugging it toward the house and on up to Hope’s room. Hope followed her, pausing to greet Jocelyn, Amanda, and Catharine at the door. Affectionate kisses and hugs followed.
“Betsy has been in an absolute state waiting for you,” said Amanda, “—hasn’t she, Mother?”
Jocelyn laughed as she nodded. “I have never seen her like this,” she said. “Something about you went straight to her heart.”
Hope took in the words with quiet thankfulness to the Lord for giving her instant confirmation to what was in her mind to do.
“Jocelyn,” she said, “might I be able to have a word with you, just for a moment before Betsy gets back downstairs?”
“Certainly,” nodded Jocelyn.
Hope set her bag down, and the
y walked a little way from the door out away from the Hall.
“I don’t want to say anything to Betsy without speaking with you first,” Hope began. “So what would you think if I asked her if she would like to visit Switzerland with me?”
“I think she would enjoy that very much. It is a wonderful idea.”
“And you would have no objection?”
“None at all.”
Twenty minutes later Betsy and Hope were outside together. Betsy had hold of Hope’s hand pulling her along, again toward the woods.
“I have a question to ask you, Betsy,” said Hope. “How would you like to come with me when I leave next time—to Switzerland?”
“Oh yes . . . yes! When can we leave!” exclaimed Betsy. All thought of the bird’s nest instantly disappeared from her mind.
“It is not quite so simple as just getting on a train,” laughed Hope. “There will be much to do. But we will begin making preparations tomorrow.”
————
Later that evening, after Betsy was in bed and Hope and Jocelyn were alone, the two women were discussing a number of practical matters concerning this waif whom the Lord had so unexpectedly dropped into their lives.
“We will have to get her a passport, of course,” Hope was saying, “which may be somewhat difficult without birth records and knowing as little about her as we do.”
“It might be that we will need to file for some sort of temporary legal guardianship,” suggested Jocelyn. “I had already been thinking along those lines. I haven’t been able to get a word out of her about other relatives, but it is something we have to consider.”
“Yes, that would certainly be advisable.”
“I will telephone Lieutenant Langham in the morning,” said Jocelyn, “and Timothy as well.—Oh no . . . what am I thinking? Lieutenant Langham is away from London with Lieutenant Forbes.”
She thought a moment. “Well, the naval office can tell me when he will be back,” she said. “In the meantime, Timothy will do whatever he can. I have needed to look into Betsy’s affairs and report what happened to someone, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do.”
“If we could arrange for something temporary, that would be good,” said Hope. “Then, if and when we learn anything further, more permanent arrangements can be made for the girl.”
“I will talk to Timothy, and perhaps Lieutenant Langham about it,” said Jocelyn. “How long were you thinking of Betsy visiting?”
There was a brief silence.
“What I would ultimately like to do,” began Hope slowly, “—that is, if we are able to confirm that Betsy has no one else—is adopt her.”
“Oh, Hope, that is wonderful!” said Jocelyn. “Would it be possible?”
“With my dual citizenship, I would think it could be done.”
“Have you said anything to Betsy?”
“No, only about going to Switzerland. I want to investigate the matter thoroughly first. But mostly I wanted to know what you think. After all, the Lord did lead her here first.”
“And led you to come too,” added Jocelyn, “I think for just this purpose. I didn’t know what we were eventually going to do about her, though we certainly would have been happy to keep her indefinitely. I think this is wonderful. I could not be more pleased.”
Hope nodded and thought a moment.
“Yes,” she said at length, “I do feel that the Lord led me here for Betsy. But I think there is a larger purpose, even than that.”
“A larger purpose, what do you mean?”
“A larger purpose for you and Catharine and Amanda.”
“I still do not see exactly what you mean.”
“I believe Betsy’s coming here,” said Hope, “is the Lord’s sign that he is going to use you all, and this wonderful home he has provided for you, in perhaps something of the same way he has the Chalet of Hope.”
Jocelyn smiled and was quiet a moment. Then she briefly told Sister Hope what Amanda had discovered about their home, and the direction they were praying about following.
Sister Hope shook her head and laughed lightly. “Remarkable,” she said when Jocelyn was through.
“Why do you say that?”
“It is so like the Lord to give a vision, only then to take away the very means, in our eyes, for it to be fulfilled. I think of his promise to Joseph, only to be followed by Joseph’s being sold into slavery.”
“I see what you mean,” replied Jocelyn.
“He filled my heart with a vision for missions,” Hope went on, “which he is now fulfilling at a chalet in Switzerland. Foreign missions—I could never have foreseen his way of fulfilling that vision. In the same way, I am certain that even should you leave Heathersleigh, you will look back on it as fulfilling his purpose.”
Jocelyn smiled a sad, nostalgic but bittersweet smile. “I always dreamed of a happy family,” she said, “and then later as we began living as Christians, I dreamed of serving the Lord together with our children, all of us the best of friends, into the teen years and that friendship growing richer in adulthood. I will never understand why God put family so deeply into Charles’s heart and mine only to have it turn out as it did.”
“It may be another example like Joseph,” replied Hope. “Perhaps that vision he put in your heart will be fulfilled . . . is even now being fulfilled. But perhaps God’s higher purpose is for your experiences, even your grief and heartbreak and Amanda’s prodigal years, to help many more families than just your own.”
“How ironic that our experience may help others know what we were never able fully to experience ourselves. I am not altogether sure I like it,” said Jocelyn sadly, “or would have chosen such a road had I been able to foresee it.”
“But for those who pray to be made like our Lord,” rejoined Hope, “as, now that I know you, I am certain you and Charles did pray together, such decisions are not ours to make.”
“Yes, you’re right,” said Jocelyn. “Charles continually prayed the prayer of Christlikeness. I am sure that if the Lord had asked Charles, ‘Are you willing to lay down your life and your dreams for my sake?’ he would have answered that he was willing.”
“Once that prayer is prayed, our lives are no longer our own,” said Hope. “We have embarked upon a road that is difficult, often lonely, a road that has been called the Calvary Road. But it has been the road of God’s saints of obedience through the centuries. And I know, had you any choice in the matter, you would not have wanted your Charles any other way.”
Jocelyn nodded, a tear or two creeping into her eyes. “As long as he was with me, I could bear the heartache of Amanda’s being gone,” she said. “She was always in my heart, every day, every moment all those long years. I ached constantly with love for her. Yet somehow I could bear it . . . with Charles. But to have him gone, and George with him, when Amanda returned . . . oh, Hope, it is so hard to bear.”
Hope rose, went to Jocelyn’s side on the couch, and placed a tender hand on her arm.
“Perhaps by your own prayers, and those of your dear husband,” she said, “and the dreams that seem that they will never be fulfilled . . . perhaps by them you are the sacrifice, laid down that our Father might work healing and reconciliation and homecoming in many other hearts.”
Before she was through speaking, Jocelyn was quietly weeping. Hope stretched a loving arm around her.
“He will fulfill the ministry he intends for you and your two lovely daughters,” Hope said, “perhaps in ways none of you expect. I believe the day will come, Jocelyn, as it did for me through my own grief that I did not think would ever end, when you will rejoice and thank God . . . maybe not for what has happened, but through what he has been able to do by putting it to use in his kingdom.”
It was silent a minute or two as Jocelyn wept at the magnitude of what Hope had just said.
“Lord,” began Hope, “I pray for your blessing on this home, this place, and these three women who are your servants and whose hearts desire to serve you. I pr
ay that you will strengthen my dear sister Jocelyn. Though she feels weak at this moment—and how I remember the feeling—remind her every day that your strength is made perfect in weakness. You will use her, as you will use her home, the love that is in her, a love poured out on the altar of sacrifice, to demonstrate your love to others. Even now I pray for the people like Betsy you will send to receive that love, that you would be preparing their hearts for the ministry they will receive from these, your women. Continue to guide Jocelyn and Amanda and Catharine as they seek your will about what to do.”
A long silence followed Hope’s prayer.
“Thank you, Hope,” whispered Jocelyn at length. “I hear what you have said, and I receive it into my heart. It will always be hard. I will always miss Charles. But God is good.”
She paused a moment, then added, “Life may always be hard . . . but God is good.”
“Amen,” added Hope softly. “God is good.”
60
Mediterranean Coast
A warm but persistent late summer rain had pounded the Mediterranean coastline all day. And now as evening began to fall, the wind accompanying it by degrees grew chillier, and was finally downright cold.
The docks of Marseilles at such a time were particularly unfriendly if you had no place to seek cover from the downpour, as the visitor to this city did not.
That he was well dressed and could have afforded the best hotel in the city did not stop the bite of the wind against his rain-soaked coat. He was not one who enjoyed being miserable, and was about ready to give up on the clandestine rendezvous to which he had been summoned.
He glanced down at his watch. Another ten minutes; then he would go find someplace to stay and let them make other arrangements.
————
Amanda had been in subconscious prayer most of the day. This time neither her own future nor that of the estate lay heavily on her mind, but rather the sudden remembrance of something Timothy had said months earlier—“We must forgive those who injure us whether or not they ever acknowledge their wrongs. There is no other way to move on in life.”
A New Dawn Over Devon Page 27