Mr Vane's first letter brought an account of the wedding, and of the
gaieties attending it, and his next told them that he had made up his
mind to pass the summer on the Continent, returning to spend a month in
England in the autumn, before he went home. They heard afterwards from
Paris, and then from Rome, but for a time nothing more was said about
Frederica's going to England.
As for Frederica, she said less than she used to do about being "grown
up" and "sensible," but she was more thoughtful and quiet than she had
ever been before; and, with the advice and assistance of Miss Robina,
laid out for herself a regular course of reading, which she pursued with
praiseworthy diligence, considering all things. The reading of the
Bible with her mother and Selina was commenced again, and nothing was
permitted to interfere with it. She began also to take her little
brothers regularly to church, and to listen and try to understand all
that she heard there. She did not get discouraged, though there was not
much to interest or to instruct in the sermons she often heard.
There was little hope of a happy summer to them, as the days went on.
The heat which last year seemed to bring healing to Mrs Vane, brought
this year weakness and nervous prostration painful to see. And
something even worse than these came with them, to make the days and
nights terrible to her--the fear of death,--death, which she knew to be
drawing near. It had come to her in former illnesses, but never as it
came now.
Mr Jerome. St. Cyr never spoke many words to her in private, but they
had been strong words that she could not forget, about her godless
marriage and her godless life, which had brought on her, he said, the
double curse of ill-health and neglect, and which must end in still
deeper misery. She could not forget them, and they woke terrible fears
for the future. She told her fears to her children, hoping that they
might chase them away as they had chased so many troubles of hers in
past years, with playful or loving words, but they knew not what to say,
for they too were afraid.
"God is good, and Christ died for us," repeated Selina many times.
"Surely that is enough, mama."
They read the Testament daily to her still, and Frederica searched it
carefully for her sake, bringing to her such sweet words as these:
"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest.
"For the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.
"God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
"Death is swallowed up in victory. O death! where is thy sting? O
grave! where is thy victory? The sting of Death is sin, and the
strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who giveth us the
victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ."
The clergyman of the church they attended came to see her, and read
prayers solemnly and tenderly, and answered the appeal of her anxious
eyes with vague words about God's goodness and compassion, and how He
would save all who came to Him. But his words did not comfort her.
"How can I come to Him? I do not know the way."
"Mama, Jesus is the way--He says it," said Selina, who never seemed to
forget the words she heard.
"But I do not know Him; I have not thought about Him all my life; I have
done nothing good, and it is too late now."
"But the thief on the cross had done nothing good, even to the very
last, and yet Jesus says to him, `To-day shalt thou be with me in
paradise,'" said Selina.
"Yes; let me read it for you," said Frederica eagerly.
"But he could do nothing, and Mr Jerome says I could give money to
clothe the naked and feed the hungry, and that I could give my children
to the Church, and then I should be safe. But I never trusted Mr
Jerome; I am afraid of him; and yet he may be right."
"Miss Agnace says something like that too," said Tessie, "and I think we
ought to ask Mr St. Cyr to give some money, if it would set mama's mind
at rest."
"But it does not say that is the way in the Bible," said Frederica
gravely.
"Yes, it says something like that. Some one was told to sell all his
goods to give to the poor. Don't you remember?"
"But it says, `Thanks be to God, who _giveth_ us the victory!'" said
Selina. "And there must be some people so poor that they have nothing
to give Him back."
"Yes, and in another place He says, `I _give_ unto my sheep eternal
life,'" said Frederica. "It cannot be that one can buy it."
"And in another place it says, `He that believeth shall be saved,'" said
Selina.
The mother's eyes turned eagerly from one to another. They knew little,
but they knew far more than she did about that which she was so anxious
to learn.
"Miss Agnace always says I must send for a priest, and confess to him,
but my father hated all that, and your father would be very angry."
"But mama, if it would make you happy, he need not be told," said
Tessie; "and we might send for some one else than Mr St. Cyr's
brother."
"But that would be giving up what the Bible says; for it does not tell
us to confess to priests, or that they can pardon us," said Frederica.
"It says something, I think," said Selina, "`Whosesoever sins ye remit,
they shall be remitted.' Oh, if we only had some one to tell us what we
ought to do?"
And was there no one among a whole cityful to tell these children and
their mother how they might be saved? Doubtless there were many who
would gladly have pointed them to Jesus as the only hope of the sinner,
if they had made known their need to such. But it was quite true of
those with whom they came in contact, the way was not clear to them.
"I spoke to Caroline about it," said Frederica, "and she said we must be
good, and say our prayers, and go to church, and do our duty always.
But there must be some other way; for mama can do nothing now. She
cannot even give money, unless Mr St. Cyr is willing; and it would do
no good, if she could."
"Miss Agnace says that she knows a sister who Is very good and wise, and
who would gladly teach us. Mama, shall we send for Sister Magdalen?"
asked Selina.
But Mrs Vane was less able to say what should or what should not be
done, than the youngest child among them. No one sent for Sister
Magdalen, unless Miss Agnace did, which was very likely; for she seemed
always to know what they wished for, whether they told her or not; but
she came. A very different woman she was from Miss Agnace. A thin,
dark, thoughtful woman, with a face which was calm now, but which
suggested thoughts of troubles passed through, and struggles encountered
in past days.
She came to see Miss Agnace at first, or she said so; but she had some
beautiful specimens of needlework which she wished the young ladies to
see, and while they were admiring it she was speaking gentle and
sympathising words to their mother.
She came a good many times after that, and by-and-by she had much to say
to them all about the peace and rest that were to be found in the bosom
of the true Church, and of the safety and happiness that were to be
purchased by the performance of such good works as the Church commanded.
She told them how, by penance, and prayer, and the confession of sin,
pardon might be obtained, and how, through the intercession of Mary and
the saints, they might hope to get safe to heaven.
She was a wiser woman than Miss Agnace, and knew how to put all these
things in the fairest light, so as not to startle them. But she was as
grieved and indignant as Miss Agnace had been at the pride and self-will
of children who ventured to read, and who strove to understand, the
Bible for themselves. It was just Miss Agnace's teaching over again,
except that all was more clearly and firmly announced, and more
decidedly pressed home, by Sister Magdalen.
If Mrs Vane had been left a little while to her instructions and
influence, she might have led her where she would, and induced her, in
the hope of finding peace, to give herself altogether into the guidance
of those who believe that they have the keys of heaven in their keeping.
But her children never left her side when Sister Magdalen was there,
and there was no assent in Frederica's anxious watchful eyes, and Selina
was always ready with some word from the Book, which even Sister
Magdalen could not but acknowledge was the very word of God. Nor did it
avail for her to say that God had other words than were written there,
and other ways of teaching those who wished to know His will. If
Frederica had learned little else from the Scriptural lessons of Mrs
Glencairn and Miss Pardie, she had learned this, that the Bible is the
only source of our knowledge of God as the Saviour of sinners, and to
distrust all other teaching.
"What you say may be true, I cannot tell, but it is not here in the
Gospels. And surely there is all here that is necessary, if we could
only understand," said Frederica gently. And Selina added,--
"_I_ know we are very ignorant; but I do not think it is wrong in us to
read and to try to understand God's Word for ourselves, and I believe
God will teach us, and mama too. We will not fear."
In the meantime Mr Jerome had still been making frequent visits to Mrs
Vane's house, where he made himself very agreeable to the children.
Selina's music progressed rapidly, and she had increasing pleasure in
it. The boys and even Tessie welcomed him with the indiscriminating
liking which children bestow on those who take pains to please and win
them. Frederica said to herself, that this liking and Selina's progress
ought to be sufficient reason for her liking him too. And it might have
been so if the priest had been content to treat her as a child.
But she was not a child, and he touched with her on graver matters than
a child could comprehend. He was aware of her reading the Bible with
her mother and the rest, and of her anxious questionings of Sister
Agnace, and her wish to be religious and do right, and he was more than
willing to give counsel and direction with regard to these matters. But
on these things Frederica would never enter with him. At first she
could give no better reason for this, than that "he had not a nice
face," which she acknowledged was a very foolish reason. But afterwards
she had a reason which was all-powerful with her: he made her mother
unhappy. He spoke softly and soothingly to her, as far as words and
manners went: but he never came but he said some words that left her
anxious and troubled either for herself or her children. He intimated
his belief that she had forsaken the true Church--the Church of her
fathers--when she married Mr Vane, and that all her ill-health and
unhappiness had come upon her as a punishment for this wrong step. He
never said all this to her in words at one time; but he uttered a word
now and then, breathed a sigh, spoke a soft regret, or as soft a
warning, that left the poor soul never quite at ease. He never spoke
thus to her in the presence of her children. Without them there is
little doubt that he could easily have bent the poor broken-spirited
woman to his will--brought her to repentance and a better mind, he would
have called it. But Selina's gentleness, and Frederica's sense of her
mother's helplessness and dependence, were a strong defence to their
mother. At this time Frederica saw that she was unhappy a good while
before she knew that the priest had anything to do with it. When she
did know it, she resented it angrily, and told him with more than
sufficient warmth, that it was neither kind nor wise of him to come with
his hard words and harder judgments, to unsettle and perplex the mind of
one so tender and delicate.
"Perhaps you mean it kindly, but it is not real kindness to make poor
mama unhappy and afraid. You have your religion, and we have ours. We
will not interfere with each other," said Frederica, with trembling
dignity.
"Have you then any religion?" asked the priest. "Because it has been
intimated to me that you are in search of one, and know not where it is
to be found. Is your mother then happier than you?"
Frederica looked at him in amazement and anger, yet other feelings also
were in her heart.
"Mama is good," said she. "One does not need to be very wise, or to
have fine words to offer, in order to be a Christian."
"And you? are you a Christian, dear?"
"I am not good," said Frederica humbly; "but I wish to be, and God will
teach me, and mama also."
"And how long will it take you to learn? a year? two years? And the
chances are your mother will not live many months. Will it be well with
her, do you think, when she shall go away into another world alone?"
Frederica turned upon him a white face and wide-open eyes of horror.
"Yes," said Selina's soft voice behind them, "it will be well. God is
good, and Christ has died."
Frederica uttered a glad cry, and clasped her sister in her arms.
"Yes," said the priest, "God is good, and Christ has died. This is our
only hope. But then all these years have you been thinking of this?
You have been forgetting God, and even now you are trusting to your own
wisdom to find Him. You are refusing counsel. You are walking in your
own ways. Oh! poor ignorant erring children, it is because I love you
so much, you and your mother, that I dare to make you unhappy by telling
you the truth. I would gladly lead you in the right way."
"Is mama so very ill?" said Frederica, forgetting everything else, in
the misery that his words had suggested.
"Do you not see yourselves that she is very ill? Dear children, death
is a happy change to those who have the care and blessing of the Church.
Death is nothing of which a Christian need be afraid."
He spoke gently and tenderly, and laid his hand softly on the blind
girl's head; but his eyes were hard and angry, and Frederica shrank from
him with a repugnance which she did not try to conceal.
"I would so gladly help you," said he again. "It is your happiness I
seek, and the happiness of your dear mistaken mother." And in a little
he added, "God bless you with humble minds." And then went silently
away.
And he left two very unhappy girls behind him. Could it be that their
mother was going to die; and that she had cause to be afraid?
"I never wish to see him again," said Frederica. "He shall never see
mama again, if I can prevent it."
But her anger went away with the departure of the priest, and now she
was very miserable.
"But, Fred, if it is true that we are all wrong, and that mama is going
to die before--"
Selina shuddered.
"Selina! God is good, and Christ has died; you said it yourself."
"Yes, God is good. He will teach us."
"And He will take care of mama and all of us. And if mama does not go
to heaven, I am sure I do not care to go there either," said Frederica,
with a great bout of weeping.
"God is good, and Christ has died," repeated Selina softly. "He will
teach us."
"But I never wish to see Mr Jerome St. Cyr again," said Frederica.
But he came again, just as usual, in a day or two. Mr St. Cyr was
there with the mother and the children when he came in, and the brothers
exchanged looks of surprise at the encounter, for they had never met in
Mrs Vane's house before. Mr St. Cyr looked on with a little amused
curiosity to see how his brother would be received.
Very cordially by the young people it seemed, but he noticed a troubled
look pass over the face of their mother; and Frederica rose and went
over to her sofa, and took her seat beside her, with an air that seemed
to say she needed protection, and she was there to give it. Mr Jerome
took no notice of the movement, but occupied himself with Selina and her
music, and with the little boys, who soon came in.
Mr St. Cyr asked Frederica about her illness, and her employments and
amusements, and she told him about Miss Agnace, and how much nicer she
was than Mrs Ascot used to be.
"And we all hope she will stay," said Tessie. "But they don't usually
let the sisters stay long out of their convents. Do you think they will
let her stay?" asked Tessie, addressing Mr Jerome. "Fred did not know
she was a sister at first, but she found it out from something she said.
She is very nice, however, and we all hope she may stay."
Mr St. Cyr asked no questions about Miss Agnace; but when his brother
rose to go, he rose also. He had something to say to him.
"Who is Sister Agnace? and why is she here?" asked he. "It is not wise
in you to wish to make any change in Mrs Vane's family affairs, my
brother. You will not succeed."
"I have succeeded already. Miss Agnace has made a great change for the
better in this ill-regulated household, especially in the comfort of
Mrs Vane. Your little friend is a clever child, but she cannot be
expected to act with sense or judgment in certain affairs. She has not
been complaining of Miss Agnace has she?"
"By no means. On the contrary, they seem to value her highly. But who
is she? Why is she here?"
"Do you not know! Mr Vane advertised for a housekeeper, and she
applied. She has excellent references, and he was fortunate in getting
her."
"Still you have not answered my question. The sisters are not permitted
to answer advertisements, and take situations, without some special
purpose in view. What was your motive in placing her among these
children?"
"A desire to serve them would not seem to you a sufficient motive, I
suppose?"
"No," said Mr St. Cyr, with a shrug, "not in your case. You may wish
to serve them, but you have another motive. Who is Sister Agnace?"
"A simple, pious, affectionate creature, just the nurse for a nervous
invalid like Mrs Vane. See her, and satisfy yourself with regard to
her."
"I shall do so," said Mr St. Cyr; "and, my brother, let me say one word
to you. Nothing good will come of your trying to gain influence in this
house. Mrs Vane has nothing in her power as to the disposal of her
father's wealth. All that is quite beyond her power."
"Don't you remember you told me all that long ago? Is it not
conceivable that for other reasons I might wish to influence that
unhappy woman, who is so near death, and who is so unprepared to meet
it? What is her wealth to me, who am not permitted to possess aught
beyond the necessaries of life? Why should I wish to influence her,
except to turn her thoughts to the God whom she must soon meet, and of
whom she knows nothing? And these poor neglected children! Brother
Cyprien, it is terrible to me to see you so indifferent to their highest
interests, and your own."
"Let all that pass. What I wish to say is this--No influence that you
may bring to bear on her can possibly make any change in the arrangement
of her affairs. The guardians of her children's interests are already
chosen by my advice, and with her husband's consent, and they are such
men as will not please you. She might change them, it is true, but she
will not without my advice. You have already made her unhappy, I think.
It is cruel, and will avail you nothing. This is what I wish you to
understand."
"I clearly understand. You will not see that it is only their good I
wish for. They have no religion. They are ignorant of the first
principles of truth. These young girls are neither fit for this world
nor the next. And St. Hubert's grandsons are losing the best years of
their life, under the foolish teaching of an ignorant woman."
"That is your opinion," said Mr St. Cyr coldly. "Well, you are not
responsible, and need not interfere. No good can come of it to any one
concerned."
But he had no fault to find with Miss Agnace when he saw her. She was
simple and affectionate, and as far as he could judge, faithful. She
was eager for the spiritual good of Mrs Vane and her children, and
prayed for them, and told them tales of the saints, and of miracles
performed by their relics even at the present day. She took the
children with her to mass, on high days and holidays, and evidently had
full faith in the success of her efforts in their behalf at last. But
of all this Mr St. Cyr had no fear. Indeed, he might have rejoiced
over the prospect of the spiritual change, for which Sister Agnace and
his brother were so anxious, in poor Mrs Vane and her children,
provided it were a real change, and that no wrong influence were brought
to bear upon them to bring it about.
But though Mr St. Cyr was looked upon as a very religious man, he was
far more liberal in his opinions, and charitable in his judgments, than
the greater number of those who admired his devotion. It did not seem
impossible to him that beyond the pale of his own church there might be
truth and safety. He knew that Mr Vane was not a religious man. He
gave him no credit for religious motives, or even for conscientious
motives, in the care with which, in the education of his daughters, he
had tried to keep them away from Roman Catholic influence; and it would
have troubled him very little on his account that they should leave
their father's church. He would not have pitied him, but he would have
dreaded the pain to them, the discomfort which their father's anger
would bring upon them.
But he was not anxious for them to change. They were good little
things, he thought, desirous to do right, and quite as likely to do
right by themselves as they would be under such guidance as a change
might involve,--such guidance, for instance, as that of his brother
Jerome. He did not wish to be hard on his brother, even in his
thoughts, but he did not trust him. He did not trust him, either as
regarded the means he might use to influence the delicate nervous mother
and her children towards a change of faith, or as regarded the end he
had in view in desiring such a change.
He cared for their souls, doubtless, and believed them to be in danger,
but he cared for something else more. He knew that he coveted some part
of the wealth that Mr St. Hubert had left, and which had been
accumulating since his death, for his own purposes; that is, for the
purposes of the Church; and he feared that he would not be scrupulous as
to the means he made use of to obtain it.
So he went oftener to see them than he had been accustomed to do, and
assured himself of the good faith of Miss Agnace, and listened to the
earnest talk of the sisters, and sometimes even to the reading of the
Bible. He was amused sometimes, but oftener he was moved and
interested, and in his heart prayed to Him whom he believed to be the
God of all who sincerely sought to serve and honour Him, that He might
guard, and guide, and keep safe from all evil, these children whom he
was learning to love so well.