MORE SURPRISES.
Next day, Lottie informed her brother of her decision to return to her
aunt, and apologize for her unceremonious departure.
Joel was very glad that she had come to this conclusion of her own free
will, for he had feared he might have trouble in bringing her to it. He
more than half-suspected that Flora had a good deal to do with his
sister's present submissive state, and was accordingly grateful.
Lottie bade her friends good-bye, and with Joel to keep her courage up,
turned her face determinedly toward her aunt's home, only making a
comical grimace, as Flora whispered to her some words of encouragement,
adding the assurance that all would come out right.
The brother and sister walked on together in silence, for some time; and
then it was Joel who talked, for Lottie was too busy thinking to care
for conversation. She acted as guide until they stood under the old
poplar in front of the quiet little house, and then she took refuge
behind her brother, who marched undauntedly up to the door, and gave a
knock, which said plainly: "Here are some people who mean business."
The knock evidently surprised Mrs. Durand, for she opened the door
herself, instead of telling them to "Come in," as was her usual custom.
At first she saw no one but Joel, and seemed strongly inclined to close
the door upon him; but when she caught sight of Lottie, standing
demurely behind him, she steadied herself firmly upon her canes, and
inquired, "What do you want?"
"In the first place, Aunt Emmeline," said Joel, calmly, "I suppose you
know me?"
"No, I can't say I do," was the reply.
"I am not much surprised. It has been some time since we met. I am Joel
Piper, your nephew, and Lottie's brother."
Mrs. Durand said nothing, but only stood and looked.
"Lottie, come here; Aunt Emmeline, Lottie has something to say to you."
Lottie came from behind her brother, and speaking rapidly, as if she
were afraid she would lose courage if she did not talk fast, said: "I've
come to say that I am sorry I acted so badly, Aunt Emmeline, and if you
will let me, I'll come back again."
"Come in," was the brusque command. Joel and Lottie entered, and Mrs.
Durand closed the door. Then she turned to them, and said, simply:
"If you want to come back, I guess you may."
Lottie shrugged her shoulders. She wanted so much to say that she did
not come back because she wanted to, but because she thought she ought,
and she bit her tongue, by way of admonishing that unruly member to keep
still.
Joel guessed something of what was passing in his sister's mind, and
hastened to engage Mrs. Durand in conversation.
She seemed really touched as the young man recounted the history of his
sickness and sufferings in a strange city; and Lottie, sitting silently
listening, was more than half convinced that she had judged her aunt too
severely. By the time Joel was ready to go, she was quite satisfied that
she _did_ want to come back. Then the old house really looked homelike,
especially after the feeling of loneliness and homesickness she had
experienced the day before as she walked the streets not knowing which
way to look for shelter.
That evening, after everything was done, as Mrs. Durand was seated by
the fire in her easy chair, and Lottie was hemming a table-cloth, Mrs.
Durand asked abruptly:
"Why did you come back?"
Lottie looked up in astonishment, scarcely knowing what to say. But
deeming it best to tell her exact reason, she said: "Because I thought
it was my duty to do it."
For a while there was silence, during which Lottie glanced up timidly to
see the effect of her words upon her aunt, but she could discover
nothing.
"I suppose you were pretty angry with me, when you went?" was the next
remark.
"Awful!" said Lottie, catching her breath at her own temerity.
Again there was silence.
"Well," returned Mrs. Durand, "if you hadn't been in such a hurry, I
should have told you I didn't mean to strike you; but, I suppose I can
tell you so now, can't I?"
"Oh dear, Aunt Emmeline, you needn't say anything at all about it," said
Lottie, eagerly. "I acted just horrid; I know I did."
"I can't blame you much, child. Old people like me, with the rheumatism,
are apt to be snappish. But I guess we both have had a lesson we will
not be likely to forget. Come, now, I think it is time you were in bed,
so put away your sewing, and go."
"Can I get you anything, aunt?" asked Lottie, as she prepared to obey.
"Nothing at all, my dear," was the soft reply, that sent Lottie upstairs
in a state of pleasurable surprise at the turn things had taken. Never
had she felt more glad of anything than she was to find herself in the
little chamber again, because it was home.
Joel, in the meantime, after he had seen his sister fairly reinstated in
her old place, returned to Mrs. Hazeley's, where he duly reported the
success of his visit.
Flora was very glad things were straightening out for her young friend,
Lottie, for she was really fond of her, because of her open, truthful
nature.
A few days more Joel spent with his friends, and then, after arranging
with his aunt for his sister's future, insisting on supplying her needs
outside of her board, for which Mrs. Durand would accept nothing, he
left, to return to his work, feeling at least contented, if not carrying
back with him the memory of a happy home welcome and reunion. It was
good to have somebody to work for and care for, and Joel was accustomed
to placing full value upon present blessings or privileges, and his
example had not been lost upon Lottie, whose lot, while greatly changed
and improved, was by no means entirely freed from thorns, for Aunt
Emmeline was still Aunt Emmeline, and was likely to continue to be so.
However, since Lottie's return, she had treated the girl with a fair
amount of consideration, much to her satisfaction and enjoyment. Lottie
was beginning to feel at home. In fact, as the months rolled by, and she
grew in age and experience, Lottie gradually became the household
manager, and her aunt was content to oversee.
After a time, Mr. Piper grew tired of "rolling around," as he informed
his sister and daughter, and determined to marry a second time. He
moreover informed Lottie that it would be more agreeable to all
concerned if she would conclude to remain with her aunt.
"Humph!" said that good woman. "It's well that it is agreeable to all;
but suppose it wasn't? As it is, child," she added, "you know you are
welcome to a home with me just as long as you want it. I have no wish to
part with you. But I must say, your father is pretty cool."
At one time Lottie's heart would have beaten tumultuously at the
prospect of a permanent home with Aunt Emmeline, but it was not so now,
and she felt very grateful, when she lay down that night, that God had
so cared for her, when she could not care for herself.
To return to our friends, the Hazeleys. They had all removed to Brinton,
all but Alec, who seemed so well-contented with his quarters at Major
Joe's, that he did not wish to change. There was really no necessity for
him to do so. He was doing well at school, although he was by no means
what might be considered a brilliant pupil. In fact, his own prediction
that he would be no scholar, but a practical farmer, seemed likely to
come true.
Major Joe had other help now, and Alec gave his time out of school and
during holidays, to the owner of a large farm in the immediate
neighborhood, where he was learning many things that were needful to
know in his chosen calling. He always came home at night, and was known
all around as a "fine lad." Major Joe had grown too feeble to attend
market any longer, and so he had turned that part of his business over
to the young man, who now had charge of his garden, and who, it seemed
more than likely would have charge of Ruth some time in the future, when
he had grown able to do so. The major remained at home, alternately
nursing his rheumatic limbs, and helping "mother" and Ruth with the
poultry, of which they raised a quantity, and, as Jem said, were
"getting awful rich off the eggs and things." Ruth was a thrifty,
thorough-going little housekeeper, one after her grandmother's own
heart, while Jem was just a lively little girl, who insisted on
bestowing her help, which, however, usually proved more of a hindrance.
She was, however, the pet of the old people, and made things merry in
the little cottage.
Alec Hazeley had gone to see his brother as soon as he had heard of his
return, and had spent some days at home prior to the removal of the
family. And he was the last object they saw as they steamed out of the
station. Mrs. Martin was no longer the active, stirring woman she had
been before her illness, but was now a confirmed invalid. She was much
altered, in every way, and was very glad to have her sister and family
with her; and they were altogether a peaceful, happy, little household.
It was not Harry's intention to remain at home long after he had seen
his mother and sister settled. But, somehow--perhaps it was because
every one seemed glad to have him there--he stayed longer than he had
intended; and, surprising to himself, and altogether delightful to
Flora and his mother, he one day informed them that he felt he had
received a decided call to the ministry.
"Oh, Harry!" cried his sister. "How sudden! I wasn't dreaming of such a
thing; but I am _so_ glad."
"Yes," answered Harry, seriously, "I feel as if I must prepare myself to
preach. Something tells me, and I feel sure it is the voice of God, that
I shall prosper at nothing else but winning souls for Christ. As I was
snatched from the toils of the Evil One, so must I help save others. I
believe that God rescued me for that very purpose."
Aunt Sarah was delighted, and would hear of nothing but that he should
immediately begin to fit himself for his new work. The family circle was
again broken, but this time, how different the circumstances, and how
hopeful the future appeared, with all united in the bond of love for
Christ and a hope for his re-appearing.