TAKEN HOME
'But I like to think of him passing,
Like a clear early star,
Into that quiet region . . .
I like to think of his little feet
Climbing the heavenly stair,
Of his eyes in their wondering meekness
Waking to glory there.'
The next morning I was out in the garden picking a few late
chrysanthemums, when Mr. Stanton passed by me. He stopped for a moment.
'What answer have you given about the tableaux?' he asked, with a smile.
'I have declined to play,' I said. 'I told Miss Willoughby so
yesterday evening before dinner.'
He looked away thoughtfully into the distance, and then said quietly,
'That accounted for her vexation last night. I wondered why she was so
bitter. Poor girl! one feels sorry for a life like that.' Then
looking at me rather intently, he asked, 'Is the violin consecrated to
God, Miss Thorn?'
'I don't know,' I stammered; 'I hope so, but I don't keep it for sacred
music only. I play to them when they want me to. Is that wrong?
Surely not! And I love it so myself; it seems to raise my thoughts
heavenwards. Do you think I ought to play nothing but hymns on it?'
He laughed. 'No, I do not; and if I did, you ought not to take my
words as a leading to you. For myself, I believe that music is a gift
entrusted to us by our Father, and if we give innocent pleasure to
others by our talent we are not using it in vain. Only I think you
were wise in keeping clear of the tableaux. If you mingle in one
thing, you must in another, and a Christian has to walk very carefully
if he wishes to preserve unbroken communion with his God.'
He said no more, and left me. As I came into our morning room a little
time after, I heard Miss Willoughby's animated voice,--
'I should like to clear them both out of the house. He is the least
objectionable, as he can be entertaining when he chooses, but I can't
imagine why she should take up her abode here. It is not a question of
charity.' Here she noticed my entrance, but calmly went on talking to
Constance as if I were not there. 'Let her take herself off to some
nursing Sisterhood or slum work in the East of London. I hate a
half-and-half kind of person. If they are too good to live our life
and mingle in our society, let them take up a religious vocation,
instead of being a perpetual source of annoyance and aggravation to
those they are with.'
Constance gave a slight laugh, then changed the conversation. I put my
flowers in water, then left the room without a word. I found Kenneth's
words very true. Miss Willoughby could not forgive me, and I was
constantly reminded of her dislike to my presence. Constance sided
with her; she had never liked me, and Nelly, though now and then warm
in my defence, seemed to be a little afraid of disagreeing with her,
and rather kept out of my way when her cousin was near. It was trying
to bear and her words now set me thinking, as I had sometimes thought
before. Should I be wiser to leave the Forsyths, and go into work of
some sort that would be more congenial? If my presence in the house
was a trial to them, why should I not relieve them of it? And yet at
present I hardly saw the way plain before me. 'Dwell deep,' I said to
myself. 'Miss Willoughby will not be here always, and I have had the
cheer of Miss Graham. I have much to be thankful for.'
It was indeed a comfort to me to be able to talk over things with Miss
Graham. We began having a little Bible reading and prayer together at
night, and it refreshed and strengthened us both. She seemed to have
taken such a firm hold of the truth, and to have such a freshness in
her enjoyment of her Bible, that it did me good to hear her talk. Now
and then, too, I enjoyed a few words with Mr. Stanton, but not very
often. He and Hugh were much up in town, and he was very busy writing
some scientific book in which Hugh was helping. Once Hugh had asked me
to go in and play on my violin to them in the dusk before dinner; but
Mrs. Forsyth had told me afterwards she would rather I did not do it
again, and I took care not to repeat it. I was left very much to
myself while the preparations for the tableaux were going on, and when
the night came I found that Mrs. Forsyth had no objection to my having
a schoolroom tea with Violet and Miss Graham, and so keeping out of the
way of it all. Violet was allowed in to see them, but Miss Graham did
not care to go, and she and I spent a very pleasant evening together.
Miss Willoughby and her brother left a few days after; but up to the
last day she was unsparing in her comments and gibes on everything
serious. She was ridiculing me on the morning of the day she left,
when we were gathered round the drawing-room fire just before luncheon.
I could not well make my escape, so bore it as quietly as I could; but
to my surprise Kenneth turned upon her. 'Now look here, Florence,' he
said, 'you have had it all your own way since Goody made you lose your
bet; don't you think you can part from her in peace? She has stood
your fire well. I like to see fair play, and I think you have had your
innings. Upon my word, I give her a good dose on occasions, just to
keep her from getting too uppish and trying to ride it with a high hand
over us; but you beat me altogether!'
Miss Willoughby laughed a little scornfully, but she took the hint, and
when she said good-bye her better nature overcame her.
'Well, we will part as friends, Miss Thorn. Your face is the best part
of you; your views are odious, but no doubt you mean well. I bear no
malice; do you?'
'No,' I said, looking up at her gravely; 'but I do wish you understood
my motives better.'
She laughed and turned away, and so we parted.
I found everything easier after her departure.
One evening we were just going in to dinner, when one of the servants
came up to me. 'If you please, miss, a message has come from the
village that Jim Carter is ill, and wants to see you at once.'
I knew the boy had been poorly, for two days before I had found him in
bed with a bad sore throat, and we had had to postpone the reading
lesson. His uncle said it was a cold, but I had thought then it was a
severe one. I turned to ask Mrs. Forsyth if she would excuse my coming
in to dinner, but she would not hear of this.
'It is great impertinence to send up at our dinner hour with such a
request. I cannot agree to your running down to the village as late as
this. The boy must wait till to-morrow.'
'Oh, let me just run down after dinner, then!' I pleaded. 'I am afraid
he must really be very ill.'
'What is the matter with him? If it is anything infectious, you must
not go near him.'
'I think it is a bad cold.'
'Come in to dinner at once. We cannot keep every one waiting.'
I obeyed, but was very silent through the meal. My thoughts were with
Jim, and I longed to be with him. Hugh, who was sitting next me, asked
why I was so grave. When I told him, he said, 'I am going out for a
smoke after dinner, so I will take you if you like. The mother won't
have any objection then, I fancy.'
I thanked him, and Mrs. Forsyth giving her consent, an hour later we
left the house together. As we were walking down the lane, Hugh said
abruptly, 'How do you like Stanton?'
'Very much,' I said; 'is he going to stay much longer?'
'I have just persuaded him to stay over Christmas. He has no
belongings of his own, and I fancy finds his country house rather
dreary.'
'I wonder he doesn't marry.'
Hugh looked at me rather curiously, then said, 'He is too particular.
You good people are hard to please!'
'Have you known him long?'
'No, I was introduced to him last spring in town; but we have seen a
good bit of each other since. He is one of the few I know who
reconcile science and religion together. And I will acknowledge he has
made me change some of my opinions about those matters. He is rather a
big man in the literary world.'
'I am always thankful when clever men are true Christians,' I said; 'so
many people think that the two can never co-exist.'
When we reached Jim's home, Hugh said he would wait outside for me. I
found old Roger sitting by the boy's bed, with real trouble in his
face. Jim himself lay back almost motionless, except for a slight
movement of his lips. At the bottom of his small bed little Roddy was
perched, his round eyes looking full of interest and curiosity, and
Roddy's mother was bustling about, every now and then putting her apron
to her eyes.
I bent over Jim, and called him by name. He opened his eyes, and
smiled feebly; then I caught the murmured words, 'Read me about the
city.'
'He's very ill,' whispered old Roger to me; 'an' we can't get no
doctor--but we've sent for 'un now. I thought I could a doctored him
myself; but it's no good. He's 'ad no food for four-and-twenty hours.'
'It's inflammation of the throat or windpipe, I think,' put in Roddy's
mother. 'I only knew he was so bad to-day, or I'd have been up sooner.'
The sick boy's eyes looked at me wistfully, and again I caught the
words, 'The city--I think I'm going there.' I turned to my little
Bible, which I had brought with me, and read a few verses from the
seventh and two last chapters in Revelation. His eyes brightened; he
repeated slowly and with great difficulty, 'Washed--made white in the
blood of the Lamb.'
'Yes,' I said gently, as I laid my hand on his fevered brow; 'and you
have been washed, have you not, Jim?'
He nodded; and here little Roddy burst forth eagerly, 'Is Jim goin' to
heaven?'
'We don't know,' I said; 'but he is quite ready to go if Jesus wants
him.'
'What time will he get there?' demanded Roddy. 'Will he get there
to-morrow day?'
His mother hushed him, and then old Roger asked me to pray with them,
which I did as simply as I could, for I saw Jim's eyes following my
every movement, and knew he was quite conscious.
'I think I will take Roddy home to bed, and step up again,' said Mrs.
Walters, 'if you're so good as to stay here with the old man, miss.
The doctor won't be long now, I'm thinkin'.'
Roddy stoutly resisted being taken away at first.
'I wants to see Jim go. I wants to see the angels come for him!'
When he was finally pacified, and about to be led away, he trotted up
to Jim, and putting his rosy mouth against his cheek, said in a loud
whisper, 'I sends my love to Jesus, Jim. Will you 'member?'
And when Jim smiled and nodded, he departed with his mother, looking
back with a shining face to say,--
'Good-bye, Jim. You send me a post letter when you get to heaven, like
uncle does to mother!'
I sat on quietly for a little while, with Jim's hot hand clasped in
mine, repeating some verses to him, and then the doctor arrived, and
Hugh put his head in rather impatiently at the door. Jim would not
leave go of my hand at first, but the doctor rather roughly put me
aside.
'Never bend over a sick person so,' he said to me; 'especially if it's
a case of a bad throat.'
I went to the door to Hugh. 'I am so sorry,' I said, 'but I promised
Mrs. Walters to stay till she returned, and I should like to hear what
the doctor says. Would you mind waiting a short time longer?'
He grumbled a little, but allowed me ten minutes more. The doctor did
not stay very long, and then he came to me with a grave face. 'There
is nothing to be done for him now,' he said; 'it is too late. I don't
want to alarm you, but it is diphtheria. If I had been called in
earlier, I might have saved him. You had better not stay. I doubt if
the poor lad will last through the night. Is there any one besides
this old man?'
'A neighbour is coming back directly,' I answered, my heart sinking
within me at the tidings. 'You will just let me wish him good-bye?'
'If you have been with him much already it will not matter. Not too
close to him, please.'
I stood at the bottom of the bed, and Jim's eyes at once sought mine
questioningly.
I tried to smile. 'I mustn't stay, Jim; you are in the arms of Jesus,
remember. Good-bye.'
His lips moved, but I could catch no sound; only a faint smile crossed
his face, and I turned to the door to hide the tears already springing
to my eyes. I had seen a great deal of Jim lately, and our reading
lessons had drawn us very close together. He seemed to have grasped
the truth as a little child, and I had no fears about his being one of
the Lord's flock. Mrs. Walters entered the house directly after I had
left Jim. She was very concerned when she learnt what it was, and
anxious about Roddy, but promised to stay all night. One word I had
with old Roger before I left.
'Ah!' he said, with a shake of his head, in response to the bit of
comfort I tried to give him; 'I might a known the boy would be taken.
He has been gettin' so fond of spellin' out of my big Bible lately, and
mostly his talk has been of heaven, and the beautiful city, as he calls
it. Well, the Lord wants him, and I'm not the one to say naught
against the Lord's dealin's. He's allays merciful, the Lord is, and
maybe my time will be comin' soon.'
When I joined Hugh outside I found Mr. Stanton with him. He told me
Mrs. Forsyth was getting anxious at my long stay, and wished me to
return immediately. He had volunteered to come down with the message.
I told them a little about Jim, but my heart was too full to say much,
and we walked home very silently.
Just as we were reaching the hall door, Hugh happened to ask what was
the matter with him, and when I told him, both he and Mr. Stanton
looked much concerned.
Mrs. Forsyth was really angry when she knew.
'I wish I had prevented your going altogether. I can't conceive what
made you stay such a time with him; it was most inconsiderate of you.
I wish you had never taken up with these village boys; it is a constant
anxiety to me that you may bring back infectious diseases from their
homes.'
I told her how it was I had stayed so long, and then asked to be
excused coming into the drawing-room that evening. I wanted to be
alone; it had all seemed so sudden and unexpected that I could hardly
realize it.
Early the next morning the village church bell began to toll, and I
knew that my eldest scholar had gone home. It was a real grief to me,
and yet for his sake I could not regret it. How thankful I was now
that I had taken him into my Sunday class, in spite of his age! It
seemed as if it was a special bit of work that God Himself had given
me, and I thanked Him for it on my knees in the midst of my tears. I
heard afterwards that he had not spoken to any one afterwards, or taken
the slightest notice of anything, but had passed peacefully away about
four o'clock in the morning.
Roddy remarked cheerfully, when he heard it, 'Jim will be glad now,
won't he, mother? I wish the angels would come for me, too!'