"Beware the bowl! though rich and bright,
Its rubies flash upon the sight,
An adder coils its depths beneath,
Whose lure is woe, whose sting is death."
--STREET.
Mrs. Ross had found a nurse for Mrs. Gibson and a seamstress to help with
the sewing; a good many of the needed garments were ordered from New York
ready made, and in a few days the invalid was comfortably established in
the seaside cottage recommended by Dr. Morton.
In another week, Sally found herself in possession of a wardrobe that more
than satisfied her modest desires. She called at the Crags in her new
traveling dress, to say good-bye, looking very neat and lady-like; happy
too, in spite of anxiety in regard to her sight.
Not used to the world, timid and retiring, she had felt a good deal of
nervous apprehension about taking the journey alone; but business called
Mr. Ross to Philadelphia, and he offered to take charge of her and see her
safe in the quiet boarding-place already secured for her by Mrs. Edward
Allison, to whom Elsie had written on her behalf.
Adelaide had never felt either love or respect for the ill-tempered
governess of her younger brothers and sisters, but readily undertook to do
a kindness for her child.
"Have you the doctor's address?" Mr. Ross asked, when taking leave of the
girl in her new quarters.
"Yes, sir; Mrs. Travilla gave it to me on a card, and I have it safe. A
letter of introduction too, from Dr. Morton. He says he is not personally
acquainted with Dr. Thomson, but knows him well by reputation, and if
anybody can help me he can."
"That is encouraging, and I hope you will have no difficulty in finding
the place. It is in the next street and only a few squares from here."
Sally thought she could find it readily; Mrs. Travilla had given her very
careful directions about the streets and numbers in Philadelphia; besides,
she could inquire if she were at a loss.
When Mr. Ross returned home, he brought some one with him at sight of whom
the Ion children uttered a joyous cry, and who stepping from the carriage,
caught their mother in his arms and held her to his heart, as if he meant
never to let her go.
"Papa! papa!" cried the children, "we did not know you were coming; mamma
did not tell us. Mamma, did you know?"
"Yes, mamma had known; they saw it in her smiling eyes; and now they knew
why it was that she had watched and listened so eagerly for the coming of
the carriage; even more so than Aunt Lucy, who was expecting Uncle Philip,
and who was very fond of him too. But then he had left her only the other
day, and mamma and papa had been parted for weeks."
Mr. Travilla had rented a furnished cottage at Cape May and come to take
them all there. The doctors thought that would be best for Lily now.
The young folks were greatly pleased, and ready to start at once; they had
enjoyed their visit to the Crags, but had missed papa sadly, and now they
would have him with them all the time, grandpa and the whole family from
the Oaks, too; for they were occupying an adjoining cottage. And the
delicious salt sea breeze, oh, how pleasant it would be!
Mrs. Ross was sorry to part with her guests, had hoped to keep her friend
with her all summer, but a good deal comforted in her disappointment, by
the knowledge that her mother, Sophie and her children would soon take
their places.
As for young Philip he was greatly vexed and chagrined. "It is really too
bad!" he said seeking little Elsie out, and taking a seat by her side.
She was on the porch at some little distance from the others, and busied
in turning over the pages of a new book her papa had brought her.
"What is too bad, Phil?" she asked, closing it, and giving her full
attention to him.
"That you must be hurried away so soon. I've hardly been at home two
weeks, and we hadn't seen each other before for two years."
"Well a fortnight is a good while. And you will soon have your cousins
here--Herbert, Meta----"
"Herbert!" he interrupted impatiently, "who cares for him? and Meta,
prying, meddling, tell-tale Meta's worse than nobody. But there! don't
look so shocked, as if I had said an awfully wicked thing. I really don't
hate her at all, though she got me into trouble more than once with
grandma and Aunt Sophie that winter we spent at Ashlands. Ah, a bright
thought strikes me!"
"Indeed! may I have the benefit of it?" asked the little girl, smiling
archly.
"That you may. It is that you might as well stay on another week, or as
long as you will."
"Thank you, but you must remember the doctor says we should go at once, on
baby's account."
"I know that, but I was speaking only of you personally. Baby doesn't need
you, and papa could take you to your father and mother after a while."
"Let them all go and leave me behind? Oh, Phil, I couldn't think of such a
thing!"
The Travillas had been occupying their seaside cottage for two weeks, when
a letter came from Sally Gibson; the first she had written them, though
she had been notified at once of their change of address, told that they
would be glad to hear how she was and what Dr. Thomson thought of her
case, and a cordial invitation given her to come to them to rest and
recruit as soon as she was ready to leave her physician.
Elsie's face grew very bright as she read.
"What does she say?" asked her husband.
"There is first an apology for not answering sooner (her eyes were so full
of belladonna that she could not see to put pen to paper, and she had no
one to write for her), then a burst of joy and gratitude--to God, to the
doctor and to me,--'success beyond anything she had dared to hope,' but
she will be with us to-morrow, and tell us all about it."
"And she won't be blind, mamma?" queried Violet, joyously.
"No, dear; I think that she must mean that her eyes are cured, or her
sight made good in some way."
"Oh, then, I'll just love that good doctor!" cried the child, clasping her
hands in delight.
The next day brought Sally, but they scarcely recognized her, she had
grown so plump and rosy, and there was so glad a light in the eyes that
looked curiously at them through glasses clear as crystal.
Mrs. Travilla took her by both hands and kissed her.
"Welcome, Sally; I am glad to see you, but should scarcely have known
you, had we met in a crowd;--you are looking so well and happy."
"And so I am, my dear kind friend," the girl answered with emotion; "and I
can see! see to read fine print that is all a blur to me without these
glasses; and all the pain is gone, the fear, the distress of body and
mind. Oh, the Lord has been good, good to me! and the doctor so kind and
interested! I shall be grateful to him and to you as long as I live!"
"Oh, did he make you those glasses? what did he do to you?" asked the
eager, curious children. "Tell us all about it, please."
But mamma said, "No, she is too tired now; she must go to her room and lie
down and rest till tea-time."
Little Elsie showed her the way, saw that nothing was wanting that could
contribute to her comfort, then left her to her repose.
It was needed after all the excitement and the hot dusty ride in the cars;
but she came down from it quite fresh, and as ready to pour out the whole
story of the experiences of the past two weeks as the children could
desire.
When tea was over, they clustered round her on the cool breezy veranda
overlooking the restless murmuring sea, and by her invitation, questioned
her to their heart's content.
"Is he a nice kind old man, like our doctor at Ion?" began little Harold.
"Quite as nice and kind I should think, but not very old."
"Did he hurt you very much?" asked Elsie, who had great sympathy for
suffering, whether mental or physical.
"Oh, no, not at all! He said directly that the eyes were not diseased; the
trouble was malformation and could be remedied by suitable glasses; and
oh, how glad I was to hear it!"
"I thought mamma read from your letter that he put medicine in your eyes."
"Yes, belladonna, but that was only to make them sick, so that he could
examine them thoroughly, and measure them for the glasses."
Turning to Mrs. Travilla, "He is very kind and pleasant to every one; so
far as I could see making no difference between rich and poor, but deeply
interested in each case in turn; always giving his undivided attention to
the one he has in hand at the moment; putting his whole heart and mind
into the work."
"Which is doubtless one great reason why he is so successful," remarked
Mrs. Travilla, adding, "Remember that, my children; half-hearted work
accomplishes little for this world or the next."
"Weren't you afraid the first time you went?" asked timid little Elsie.
"My heart beat pretty fast," said Sally smiling. "I am rather bashful you
see, and worse than that, I was afraid the doctor would say like the
others, that it was the nerve and I would have to go blind, or that some
dreadful operation would be necessary; but after I had seen him and found
out how kind and pleasant he was, and that I'd nothing painful or
dangerous to go through, and might hope for good sight at last, I didn't
mind going at all.
"It was a little tedious sitting there in the outer office among strangers
with no one to speak to, and nothing to do for hours at a time, but that
was nothing compared to what I was to gain by it."
Then the children wanted to know what the doctor measured eyes with, and
how he did it, and Sally amused them very much by telling how she had to
say her letters every day and look at the gaslight and tell what shape it
was, etc., etc.
"The doctor told me," she said, addressing Mrs. Travilla, "that I would
not like the glasses at first, hardly any one does; but I do, though not
so well, I dare say, as I shall after a while when I get used to them."
Mrs. Gibson's health was improving so that she was in a fair way to
recover and as she was well taken care of and did not need her daughter,
Sally felt at liberty to stay with these kind friends and enjoy herself.
She resolved to put away care and anxiety for the future, and take the
full benefit of her present advantages. Yet there was one trouble that
would intrude itself and rob her of half her enjoyment. Tom, her only and
dearly loved brother, was fast traveling the downward road, seeming wholly
given up to the dominion of the love of strong drink and kindred vices.
It was long since she had seen or heard from him and she knew not where he
was. He had been in the habit of leaving their poor home on the Hudson
without deigning to give her or his mother any information as to whither
he was bound or when he would return; sometimes coming back in a few
hours, and again staying away for days, weeks or months.
One day Elsie saw Sally turn suddenly pale while glancing over the morning
paper and there was keen distress in the eyes she lifted to hers as the
paper fell from her nerveless hand.
"Poor child; what is it?" Elsie asked compassionately, going to her and
taking the cold hand in hers, "anything that I can relieve or help you to
bear?"
"Tom!" and Sally burst into almost hysterical weeping.
He had been arrested in Philadelphia for drunkenness and disorderly
conduct, fined and sent to prison till the amount should be paid.
Elsie did her best to comfort the poor sister, who was in an agony of
shame and grief. "Oh," she sobbed, "he is such a dear fellow if only he
could let drink alone! but it's been his ruin, his ruin! He must feel so
disgraced that all his self-respect is gone and he'll never hold up his
head again or have the heart to try to do better."
"Don't despair, poor child!" said Elsie, "he has not fallen too far for
the grace of God to reclaim him; 'Behold the Lord's hand is not shortened,
that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear.'"
"And oh, I cry day and night to him for my poor Tom, so weak, so beset
with temptations!" exclaimed the girl, "and will he not hear me at last?"
"He will if you ask in faith pleading the merits of his Son," returned her
friend in moved tones.
"He must be saved!" Mr. Travilla said with energy, when Elsie repeated to
him this conversation with Sally. "I shall take the next train for
Philadelphia and try to find him."
Tom was found, his fine paid, his release procured, his rags exchanged for
neat gentlemanly attire, hope of better things for this world and the next
set before him, and with self-respect and manhood partially restored by
all this and the kindly considerate, brotherly manner of his benefactor,
he was persuaded to go with the latter to share with Sally for a few
weeks, the hospitality of that pleasant seaside home.
He seemed scarcely able to lift his eyes from the ground as Mr. Travilla
led him into the veranda where the whole family were gathered eagerly
awaiting their coming; but in a moment Sally's arms were round his neck,
her kisses and tears warm on his cheek, as she sobbed out in excess of
joy, "O Tom, dear Tom, I'm so glad to see you!"
Then Mrs. Travilla's soft white hand grasped his in cordial greeting, and
her low sweet voice bade him welcome; and the children echoed her words,
apparently with no other thought of him than that he was Sally's brother
and it was perfectly natural he should be there with her.
So he was soon at ease among them; but felt very humble, kept close by
Sally and used his eyes and ears far more than his tongue.
His kind entertainers exerted themselves to keep him out of the way of
temptation and help him to conquer the thirst for intoxicating drink, Mrs.
Travilla giving Sally carte blanche to go into the kitchen and prepare him
a cup of strong coffee whenever she would.
"Sally," he said to his sister, one evening when they sat alone together
on the veranda, "what a place this is to be in! It's like a little heaven
below; there is so much of peace and love; the moral atmosphere is so
sweet and pure: I feel as though I had no business here, such a fallen
wretch as I am!" he concluded with a groan, hiding his face in his hands.
"Don't, Tom, dear Tom!" she whispered, putting her arms about his neck and
laying her head on his shoulder. "You've given up that dreadful habit?
you're never going back to it?"
"I don't want to! God knows I don't!" he cried as in an agony of fear,
"but that awful thirst--you don't know what it is! and I--I'm weak as
water. Oh if there was none of the accursed thing on the face of the
earth, I might hope for salvation! Sally, I'm afraid of myself, of the
demon that is in me!"
"O, Tom, fly to Jesus!" she said, clinging to him. "He says, 'In me is
thine help.' 'Fear not; I will help thee,' and he never yet turned a deaf
ear to any poor sinner that cried to him for help. Cast yourself wholly on
him and he will give you strength; for 'every one that asketh, receiveth;
and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be
opened.'"
There was a moment of silence, in which Sally's heart was going up in
earnest prayer for him; then Mr. Travilla joined them and addressing Tom
said, "My wife and I have been talking about your future; indeed Sally's
also; for we suppose you would like to keep together."
"That we should," they said.
"Well, how would you like to emigrate to Kansas and begin life anew; away
from all old associates? I need not add that if you decide to go the means
shall not be wanting."
"Thank you, sir; you have been the best of friends to us both, and to our
mother, you and Mrs. Travilla," said Tom, with emotion: "and this is just
what Sally and I have been wishing we could do. I understand something of
farming and should like to take up a claim out there in some good location
where land is given to those who will settle on it. And if you, sir, can
conveniently advance the few hundred dollars we shall need to carry us
there and give us a fair start, I shall gladly and thankfully accept it as
a loan; hoping to be able to return it in a year or two."
This was the arrangement made and preparations to carry it out were
immediately set on foot. In a few days the brother and sister bade
good-bye to their kind entertainers, their mother, now nearly recovered,
joined them in Philadelphia, and the three together turned their faces
westward.
In bidding adieu to Elsie, Sally whispered with tears of joy the good news
that Tom was trusting in a strength mightier than his own, and so, as
years rolled on, these friends were not surprised to hear of his steadfast
adherence to the practice of total abstinence from all intoxicating
drinks, and his growing prosperity.