When I shall meet with those that I have loved,
Clasp in my arms the dear ones long removed,
And find how faithful Thou to me hast proved,
I shall be satisfied.
--[Horatius Bonar.
After a short rest in this lovely room among the books, my brother took
me through all the remaining rooms of the house; each perfect and
beautiful in its way, and each distinctly and imperishably photographed
upon my memory. Of only one other will I speak at this time. As he
drew aside the gauzy gray draperies, lined with the most delicate shade
of amber, which hung before the columned doorway of a lovely room on
the second floor of the house, he said:
"Your own special place for rest and study."
The entire second story of the house, indoors, instead of being
finished in gray marble, as was the first floor, was finished with
inlaid woods of fine, satiny texture and rare polish; and the room we
now entered was exquisite both in design and finish. It was oblong in
shape, with a large bowed window at one end, similar to those in the
library, a portion of which was directly beneath this room. Within
this window, on one side, stood a writing desk of solid ivory, with
silver appointments; and opposite was a case of well-filled bookshelves
of the same material. Among the books I found afterward many of my
favorite authors. Rich rugs, silver-gray in color, lay scattered over
the floor, and all the hangings in the room were of the same delicate
hue and texture as those at the entrance. The framework of the
furniture was of ivory; the upholstering of chairs and ottomans of
silver-gray cloth, with the finish of finest satin; and the pillows and
covering of the dainty couch were of the same. A large bowl of wrought
silver stood upon the table near the front window, filled with pink and
yellow roses, whose fragrance filled the air; and several rarely
graceful vases also were filled with roses. The entire apartment was
beautiful beyond description; but I had seen it many times before I was
fully able to comprehend its perfect completeness. Only one picture
hung upon the walls, and that was a life-size portrait of the Christ,
just opposite the couch. It was not an artist's conception of the
human Christ, bowed under the weight of the sins of the world, nor yet
the thorn-crowned head of the crucified Savior of mankind; but the
likeness of the living Master, of Christ the victorious, of Christ the
crowned. The wonderful eyes looked directly and tenderly into your
own, and the lips seemed to pronounce the benediction of peace. The
ineffable beauty of the divine face seemed to illumine the room with a
holy light, and I fell upon my knees and pressed my lips to the
sandaled feet so truthfully portrayed upon the canvas, while my heart
cried, "Master, beloved Master and Savior!" It was long before I could
fix my attention on anything else; my whole being was full of adoration
and thanksgiving for the great love that had guided me into this haven
of rest, this wonderful home of peace and joy.
After some time spent in this delightful place, we passed through the
open window on to the marble terrace. A stairway of artistically
finished marble wound gracefully down from this terrace to the lawn
beneath the trees, no pathway of any kind approaching at its foot--only
the flowery turf. The fruit-laden branches of the trees hung within
easy reach from the terrace, and I noticed as I stood there that
morning seven varieties. One kind resembled our fine Bartlett pear,
only much larger, and infinitely more delicious to the taste, as I soon
found. Another variety was in clusters, the fruit also pear-shaped,
but smaller than the former, and of a consistency and flavor similar to
the finest frozen cream. A third, something like a banana in shape,
they called bread-fruit; it was not unlike our dainty finger-rolls to
the taste. It seemed to me at the time, and really proved to be so,
that in variety and excellence, food for the most elegant repast was
here provided without labor or care. My brother gathered some of the
different varieties and bade me try them. I did so with much relish
and refreshment. Once the rich juice from the pear-like fruit (whose
distinctive name I have forgotten, if indeed I ever knew it,) ran out
profusely over my hands and the front of my dress. "Oh!" I cried, "I
have ruined my dress, I fear!"
My brother laughed genially, as he said, "Show me the stains."
To my amazement not a spot could I find.
"Look at your hands," he said.
I found them clean and fresh; as though just from the bath.
"What does it mean? My hands were covered with the thick juice of the
fruit."
"Simply," he answered, "that no impurity can remain for an instant in
this air. Nothing decays, nothing tarnishes, or in any way disfigures
or mars the universal purity or beauty of the place. As fast as the
fruit ripens and falls, all that is not immediately gathered at once
evaporates, not even the seed remaining."
I had noticed that no fruit lay beneath the trees--this, then, was the
reason for it.
"'And there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defiled!,'" I
quoted thoughtfully.
"Yes, even so," he answered; "even so."
We descended the steps and again entered the "flower-room." As I stood
once more admiring the inlaid roses, my brother asked:
"Whom, of all the friends you have in heaven, do you most wish to see?"
"My father and mother," I answered quickly.
He smiled so significantly that I hastily turned, and there, advancing
up the long room to meet me, I saw my dear father and mother, and with
them my youngest sister. With a cry of joy, I flew into my father's
outstretched arms, and heard, with a thrill of joy, his dear, familiar
"My precious little daughter!"
"At last! at last!" I cried, clinging to him. "At last I have you
again!"
"At last!" he echoed, with a deep-drawn breath of joy. Then he
resigned me to my dear mother, and we were soon clasped in each other's
embrace.
"My precious mother!" "My dear, dear child!" we cried simultaneously;
and my sister enfolding us both in her arms, exclaimed with a happy
laugh, "I can not wait! I will not be left outside!" and disengaging
one arm, I threw it about her into the happy circle of our united love.
Oh, what an hour was that! I did not dream that even heaven could hold
such joy. After a time my brother, who had shared our joy, said:
"Now, I can safely leave you for a few hours to this blessed reunion,
for I have other work before me."
"Yes," said my father, "you must go. We will with joy take charge of
our dear child."
"Then for a brief while good-by," said my brother kindly. "Do not
forget that rest, especially to one but recently entered upon the new
life, is not only one of the pleasures, but one of the duties of
heaven."
"Yes, we will see that she does not forget that," said my father, with
a kindly smile and glance.