The brothers followed their father to the grave, and the sisters sat at
home waiting, as they had done when their mother was carried away. But
this time Cecilia was with them, and that made a wonderful difference.
She read with them the beautiful burial service of their Church, and
comforted them sweetly with words which were not her own, showing them
how they, being fatherless and motherless, could claim in a new way the
love and care of their Father in Heaven, because of His promise to the
orphan. There was no room for fear, or even for doubt, in their future,
she told them, because of this; and it was the easier for them to
believe it, and rejoice in it; coming from her loving lips.
Before they saw the graves of their father and mother, they were
beautiful with soft green turf and the fairest of spring flowers.
They all went there together, on one of the loveliest and last of the
April days; and though their tears fell fast for a little while, there
was no bitterness in them; and the elder brother and sisters, sitting a
little apart, saw smiles on their faces before their tears were dry.
"It is all past for them," said Frederica; "the troubles of their life,
I mean. And now mama is as strong and well as the other happy people up
there, and not anxious or afraid any more."
"And papa is satisfied, and does not mind things now, I suppose," said
Tessie. "For my part, I cannot think what heaven is like."
"Jesus is there, we know," said Selina, "and that is enough."
"Yes, I suppose so. But still mama must have been glad to see papa
coming in through the gate. But, as Tessie says, we cannot tell what
heaven is like, or how it seems to them there."
"Jesus is there," repeated Selina, "and they are like Him. `And there
shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying;' and they shall go
no more out. We know a little, Tessie dear, I think."
"But I cannot think of mama being quite happy without you, Lena. And
has she forgotten us all, do you think?"
"She knows that I shall be coming by-and-by," said Selina, with a smile,
wonderful for its sweet content. "Yes, and all of us--`to go no more
out.' She will not think the time long, we may be sure of that. And I
shall _see her face there_?"
"If mama could have known about Cecilia and Edgar, and how good they
would be to us, before she went away."
"Papa knew," said Tessie, "and he will tell her."
"And, Fred love, mama was not afraid for us at the last," said Selina.
"She did not know that they would care for us and love us, but she knew
that Jesus would; and I daresay He has told her about our brother and
sister also."
"And we needn't fret about Madame Precoe or Father Jerome any more,"
said Tessie.
"No; but we will not speak of them _here_," said Selina gently; "and we
need not be afraid of anything any more."
By-and-by there was a little movement among them, and then the others
heard Selina say,--
"Tell me about it, so that I may know the place where they lie."
So one told her one thing, and one told her another, about the lonely
spot where the two graves were side by side. Tessie told of the green
turf and the lovely flowers that covered them, and of the budding trees,
and the dark shadows which the evergreens made, and the many, many
graves and white monuments that could be seen. And then Frederica told
her of the far-away view, of the great level over which they could look
to the river and the hills beyond. And they both said how peaceful the
place was, and how fair and sweet, till Selina smiled, saying,--"_I_
think I can see it all now."
"And, please God, she shall see it yet as clearly as it lies before us
all," said Edgar softly.
"Do you mean it, Edgar? Can such a thing be possible?" said Mrs
Brandon in amaze.
"Please God, she may yet see," said the young man gravely.
"Ah I do not disturb the sweet quiet of her heart by a hope that may
never be realised," said Cecilia.
"By no means at present," said her brother; "there is no need for that."
"It would be a miracle," said Mrs Brandon.
"A miracle of science and skill," said Edgar. "We will not speak of
this to her, or to any of them, yet; but I cannot but hope that she may
see, even before she enters the city by the gates of pearl."
After that they had a very quiet summer. Madame Precoe went home to her
own house, and they did not see her very often. But Miss Agnace was
allowed still to remain with them, and the affairs of the household went
well and smoothly in her hands. Mr Jerome they never saw, for he had
been sent on a mission to a distant city, and they only heard of him now
and then through Mr St. Cyr; but they were none the less happy that he
was away.
Mr St. Cyr did not grow strong very fast. It was, indeed, doubtful
whether he would ever be very strong again; and so all through the
summer he was making arrangements to give up his business for a while
into the hands of his partner, and he purposed to take a long holiday,
to go to Paris, where he had not been since he was a young man, and
perhaps to Rome, where he had never been. But he found time, amid all
his preparations, to come often to see the young people; for he still
considered himself their guardian, and in a certain sense responsible
for their well-being. And besides, he loved them dearly, and they
trusted him, and depended on him as they had always done, and loved him
better every day.
Edgar and young Mr Bentham, Cecilia's husband, had much to do, and many
places to visit, before the time set for their return to England, and
sometimes Cecilia went with them. But it generally pleased her best to
stay quietly at home with her young sisters, and it pleased them also.
It was a very quiet summer, but it was a very busy one. For it had been
decided that when their elder brother and sister went back to England,
they should all go with them; and there was much to be thought of, and
much to be done, in preparation. To say that they were glad at the
prospect, would be saying little. To go anywhere with the brother and
sister who had been so kind to them, and whom they had learned to love
so dearly, would have been pleasant; but to go to England, the country
of which they had heard so much, where there were so many wonderful and
beautiful things to see, was more than pleasant.
"And papa's home was there, and it was the last place he saw," said
Selina, who had no hope of beholding the beautiful and wonderful things
of which her brother and Tessie were never weary of talking. "And the
kind people who cared for him are there. Yes, I am glad to go."
"And we shall come home again. I am glad to go away for a while,
because there are some things here I want to forget," said Frederica, a
little tremulously. "But we must come home again by-and-by, and begin
all over again."
"Unless we should like England best," said Tessie. "I should not be at
all surprised."
But Frederica said that would be quite impossible. When their brothers
should be quite grown up, and able to take care of themselves, they
would all come back and be happy at home. They made many plans as to
what they were to do and enjoy, but Frederica's plans all had reference
to their return home, and the life they were to live afterwards. She
was as glad to go as any of them, but it was always with thought of
coming home again.
They had not many friends to whom it was sad to say good-bye. Mr St.
Cyr was going with them, on his way to Paris. Miss Agnace was going
with them too, to be Selina's special attendant and friend. For though
little was said about it, it was more for Selina's sake than for
anything else that they were going to England. Edgar had taken Mr St.
Cyr into his confidence as to the hope he entertained of bringing back
the light, to her sweet eyes, and so all plans with regard to their
going were made easy by him.
They went to school to say good-bye to Miss Robina and her mother, and
Cecilia went with them to thank them for all their kindness to her
little sisters. But this was not Frederica's last visit. She went
again with Selina, and Mistress Campbell made tea for them in her room,
as she used to do when Frederica was a child. It was not so very long
ago, but it seemed a great while to her, and she was very quiet and
grave all the afternoon. Selina had more to say than she had, and asked
many questions about what her sister used to do when she was a pupil in
the school.
"A bonny bit wilful creature she was," said Mistress Campbell, "very
wilful whiles. But it was just a pleasure to see her for all that.
Many a good advice I had occasion to give her at one time and another,
but she did me more good than ever I did to her, I think. She is one of
His little lambs, as you are yourself doubtless, and none shall pluck
you out of His hand. You are ay safe with Him, but still it is a grand
thing to have a brother and sister like those you have found to trust
to, and to be obedient to. You'll ay mind that, Miss Frederica, my
dear, when you are far away."
"I shall never be wilful or disobedient any more, Mistress Campbell,"
said Fred gravely, quite believing it.
Mistress Campbell nodded her head a good many times.
"You are in God's keeping, my bairn. That's ay a comfort. But walk
softly, my lammie, when your light heart comes back again. And mind the
rest will ay look to you for an example, and so on." Mistress Campbell
had "many an advice" to give still, and Frederica received them more
meekly than she used sometimes to do in the old times.
"And though I never see you more on earth, we'll meet in a better place,
my bonny bairns, and God go with you wherever you go," said the old
woman, kissing them when they were ready to go away. "And there is
nothing to grieve about, though it is the last time."
Nothing to grieve about. It could not be long that the kind old woman
would have to stay in her garret, and there were no partings where she
was going to dwell.
After that they spent a day with their sister Caroline and her little
children, and this was the saddest parting of all. But even this was
not so very sad, for they were coming back again by-and-by to their home
and their friends, and the graves of their father and mother, and there
was no bitterness in the tears they shed when the day of departure came.
The summer was quite over by that time. The sun of a bright still
autumn day was near its setting as they stood on the deck of the steamer
to take their last look of the city, and of the mountain which makes so
grand a background to the view. Grand indeed it was that night, for the
frost spirit had breathed on the unfallen leaves, and changed their
summer green to colours wonderful for glory and beauty, and few words
were spoken for a good while as they gazed.
"Tell me about it," said Selina softly.
So one told her about the bright clouds in the west, and the mountain
growing dim already in the distance, and another told of the gleaming
city roofs and spires; and the great cathedral towers looking down upon
them all, and little Hubert told her of the long shaft of light that the
sun sent over the water, and of the white sails that were passing out of
sight.
"Which of us all is so happy as she?" said Cecilia softly, as she
watched the smile of sweet content on the blind girl's listening face.
"But please God, when she comes home again, she shall see it all," said
her brother. And so she did.