THE CHANGED HEART.
When I entered the softly illumined dining-room, I was surprised to
find Mr. Winthrop standing near the fire, and gazing into it with a
preoccupied expression. Mrs. Flaxman was sitting in her favorite corner,
a book lying open on her knee, her eyes fixed on Mr. Winthrop somewhat
anxiously. Instinctively I felt something 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. "Have you been out?"
he asked, with some surprise 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-day, 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 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 climbed 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 filled 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. Winthrop?"
"No, dear, he was not angry, for I was watching 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 remonstrated.
"Your are in some ways, darling. Your mother's prayers for her children
have been answered. Those God has already 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 is 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?"
"So easy, the way-faring man, though 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 tears 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 meeting 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. Flaxman 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
deterred me from asking. But I felt convinced it was in some way
connected with Hermione Le Grande. Neither could I confess to Mrs.
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.
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 Hubert 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 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 what with the reading Mr. Winthrop
appointed, and the time appointed by myself for painting, the entire
morning until luncheon I found quite short enough. I started for Mrs.
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 Esmerelda 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 ongoings. "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 desolate--my! I
wished I'd never been born. 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 them 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. I'll take the poorest place in earth or Heaven,
if you'll only adopt me as your own.' I meant what I said, and the Lord
just then and there sealed the bargain; 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 forever 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. Religion is the
same now as then."
Mrs. Blake stopped only for want of breath.
"And are you as happy now as you were that night?"
"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 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 burst right out crying. But he's never
mentioned her sence, only last night, in meeting, he said, if we had
friends 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 great 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 choir."
"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 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 flash 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 meetings 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 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 meeting 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 us coming, I know."
Mrs. Blake was very soon in readiness, we started out into the dull, cold
air, scarce noticing 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 elegantly 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 privileged 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 moistening 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 proved 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."
"I do not think he 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, sorrowfully, "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 morning, 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 patiently 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."
"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 uncommon 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 approval. A pure, unselfish life
must gain the respect of every honest soul, soon or late," Mrs. 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.