A GREAT CHANGE.
JAMES LETHBRIDGE did not die, though it was several days before the
doctor declared his life to be out of danger.
It was September before he was well enough, with great difficulty, to
come downstairs. It was a painful journey, but Dr. Bly said he must now
try to use his leg more and more daily. A cheerful little party took
tea together in the kitchen that afternoon. The father, pale and thin
after his illness, and still feeling very weak, was somewhat silent.
During the weary time he had been laid up, he had had ample opportunity
for serious thought, and had determined never, with God's help, to
neglect his family for the sake of drink again. Perhaps his talks with
the vicar, who had been one of his constant visitors, had had something
to do with this determination; and, certainly, the long nights of
wakefulness and pain he had endured, during which his conscience had
spoken to him plainly, and he had seemed alone with God, had taught him
much, and influenced him aright.
"How strange it seems to have father down with us again," remarked Mrs.
Lethbridge. "I feel so glad and thankful!"
"Father!" cried Molly. "You haven't noticed my picture! Look!"
The father followed the direction of the child's pointing finger,
and then gave a start of surprise as he saw the picture of the Good
Shepherd hanging on the wall.
"Why, Molly!" he exclaimed. "How did you come by it?"
Molly clapped her hands, and laughed. "You'll never guess who gave it
to me, father!"
"It was Mr. Talbot," Mrs. Lethbridge explained; "he's Molly's latest
friend, you know. It was like this. When you were at your worst, Mr.
Talbot called to enquire how you were getting on. He only saw Molly and
baby, and it seems she got talking to him; wasn't that it, Molly?"
"Yes, mother. He asked lots of questions, and I told him how I went
to Sunday-school with Miss Morris. And then I told him about the Good
Shepherd, and that he could see the picture in Mrs. Mugford's window.
He went across to Mrs. Mugford's, but she said he couldn't have it,
until he said it was for me, then she let him buy it. I found a nail,
and he nailed it up there!"
"I never was more surprised about anything than when I came down and
saw it," Mrs. Lethbridge declared; "and that was only the beginning
of Mr. Talbot's kindness. Every Saturday, as you know, James, he has
brought me a sovereign. God must have put it into his heart to be so
generous!"
The husband was silent, but only because he could find no words to
express his sense of gratitude. He knew his master had acted thus for
the sake of his helpless wife and family, and he felt deeply thankful.
The next day Mr. Talbot called, and had a long interview with James
Lethbridge; and afterwards Mrs. Lethbridge found her husband in such
excellent spirits that she looked at him in surprise.
"I told Mr. Talbot about the poaching, Jenny," he explained in answer
to her look of enquiry. "I thought I ought. He was surprised, I could
see; but he was so kind, and says when I'm well enough I'm to come back
to the Hall, and let bygones be bygones. I mean to start life afresh!"
And James Lethbridge kept his word. He did start life afresh; and
though at first, he found it a hard matter to pass by the "White Hart,"
yet he was true to his determination to abstain from drink.
"Molly, my dear," Mrs. Lethbridge said one day, "do you remember how,
on the day, of your father's accident, you prayed to Jesus to take the
pain from my heart?"
"Yes, mother," the little girl answered; "has it quite, quite gone?"
"Yes, I think, quite gone. It didn't seem an answer to your prayer when
we saw your poor father brought home almost dead, but even then God was
ordering all for the best! I've been ungrateful and unbelieving, but
I'll try not to doubt Him any more. He has been so good to us all."
Molly smiled her sweet smile, that seemed to have lost its weakness.
To all who knew her, it was very plain that the child's mind was
gradually, but surely, strengthening. Tasks that it had been almost
impossible for her to grasp a year ago, were now retained with only
moderate difficulty; and, during her father's illness, she had learned
to read. No one ever dreamed of calling her "Crazy Molly" now.
Sharp and clever she would never be, but there was in Molly a
truthfulness and desire to do right which nothing could overcome. The
love of Jesus, first implanted in her heart by means of Marian Morris'
gentle teaching, had fallen upon fertile ground, and was bringing forth
abundant fruit. It seemed that because Molly had the one thing needful,
a firm trust in her Saviour, she wanted nothing else.
And now we must take leave of the family at Rose Cottage. Mr. Talbot
speaks of pensioning old Burt, because he's getting old, and of putting
James Lethbridge in his place. Evidently, he can trust him now!
Mrs. Mugford, too, feels that she is getting up in years. She is saying
that by the time Jim is ready to leave school, she will be wanting help
in the shop, and that he will be the very boy for her assistant.
Molly still keeps her picture of the Good Shepherd in the same place.
"We mean to keep it there always," she says, as she shows it to
visitors. "Isn't it beautiful? And doesn't the Good Shepherd seem to be
looking at us now?"
THE END.