ALL THINGS SHALL BE ADDED UNTO YOU.
On the 18th of March, Margaret had returned to luncheon from visiting
some sick persons; Martha had staid at home to cut out work to be
given to poor women. She entered Margaret's room as she was dressing,
holding one hand behind her.
"I have had a note from Dr. James to-day," said Martha. "He is in the
city, and we shall see him to-morrow."
Margaret looked up inquiringly.
"You have something else to tell! I see it in your face. Why do you
make me wait?"
"I have something else to tell, and this shall tell it for me," she
answered, laying a letter down on Margaret's table, and going out of
the room. Margaret, with trembling fingers, tore it open and read as
follows:
"NEW YORK, March 18.
"MY DEAR MISS LESTER: It has not been from disapprobation, nor
neglect, nor indifference that I have left your letter so long
unanswered. It is because I earnestly desired, if possible, to
give you some good news in return for that which you sent me.
"You speak of owing your conversion partly to me, and I am very
happy that this should be true; but your letter has done a greater
work for me than you thought it could when you wrote it. Miss
Lester, I ought to have been where you are now a year ago; but
pride of intellect, perversity of will, and, latterly, another
obstacle, have stood in my way, and I might have kept on blind and
miserable for the rest of my life. You have found the church of
God through its treasures of charity, displayed in its works of
mercy to the poor, the weak, and the sinful; it was your heart,
so to speak, that carried you there. I have found the same church
entirely by my mind. I have seen repeatedly shallow prejudices,
groundless suspicions, and fanatical attacks met by calm, strong,
logical arguments. I have seen the carping opinions of sects
dwindling away before the majesty of a revealed faith. I have
recognized that intellect, learning, science, philosophy, shine
brightest in that church which the scoffers of the day assert to
be in her dotage and dissolution. I have been forced at last,
to admit her divine authority, and the consequent infallibility
of her teaching, and there was but one thing left for me to do.
How long would I have resisted light, conviction? I cannot tell.
Cowardice, pride, and something else held me back; then your
letter came, as a push from a friendly hand to a wretch clinging
to the feeble branch which threatens to give way in his grasp and
precipitate him into the abyss below, yet fearing to take the leap
which will land him on firm ground.
"We have landed on the rock--you and I. God grant that we may
stand on it for ever.
"I have much more to say, but can write no more. I have been for
a week making a retreat at the house of the ---- fathers, and I
shall be baptized in their church to-morrow morning, Feast of St.
Joseph, after the nine o'clock mass. You will come, will you not?
Pray for me.
FRANCIS JAMES."
Margaret read this letter steadily through to the end, and then fell
on her knees by her little table, where Martha found her some time
after, when she came to summon her to luncheon.
"He has asked me to be his godmother," remarked Martha, as they were
sitting at the dining-table.
"Has he? I should think he would have asked me," responded Margaret.
"Don't you remember what you told me once about the spiritual
relationship between sponsors and their god-children, and what it
precludes?"
Margaret slightly smiled, and the subject was dropped.
On arriving next morning at St. ---- church, Margaret found that
the first pew was reserved for Martha and herself, and soon Dr.
James appeared and knelt with them. To the surprise and delight of
Margaret, who should enter the sanctuary to celebrate mass but Father
Barry; and it was he who, at the conclusion of the holy sacrifice,
administered the sacrament of baptism.
Margaret's cup of happiness was very full when, going into the house
afterward, by invitation, she was able to exchange congratulations
with her good friend Father Barry, and grasp, with a glowing face and
speaking eyes, the hand of the newly-baptized. They both agreed to
dine with her; and then she went home with Martha, wondering over the
changes which one year had brought about in her life, and thanking
God in her heart for her conversion and for that of the person
dearest to her in the world.
The dinner that evening was a very delightful one. Margaret and the
doctor were surprised to find all embarrassment between them gone.
All their past intercourse seemed far away and like what had happened
in a dream, and they felt that they were beginning their friendship
over again on a new and true basis.
Margaret had many questions to ask of Father Barry about Sealing, and
the different families she was interested in, and he had a great deal
to tell her, as well as questions to ask in his turn. And Margaret
told all about the beautiful religious houses she had visited, and
about kind Abbé Saincère, who had done her so much good, lent her
books and led her gently on till she was safely in the fold.
Martha Burney had to tell of her horror when she found what Margaret
was wrapped up in; how she scolded, and argued, and ridiculed, and
at last went in secret to see the abbé, to remonstrate with him. How
she was won by his gentleness and courtesy, and how, still in secret
and with his assistance, she read and learned about the church, till
on Margaret's asking one day why she made no more fuss about her
becoming a Catholic, she said the reason was because she was going to
be one herself as soon as she could be prepared.
Then Dr. James told about his plans: how Richards was all ready to
step into his place, and in a great hurry to have the establishment,
dispensary, etc., under his own control; how he was a good-hearted
young fellow, and the doctor thought would be merciful to the poor;
and his mother would come and live with him, and take the place of
the tyrannical housekeeper. Then, for himself, Dr. James announced
his intention of removing to New York as soon as his affairs at
Shellbeach were settled.
Margaret was quieter than usual, and more simply dressed than the
doctor had ever seen her before, in a plain black silk absolutely
without ornament, except that she wore round her neck an amber
rosary, which she said she had obtained abroad when she was a
heathen. There was in her face an expression of serenity and quiet
happiness that was new to it, and Dr. James thought he had never seen
her so attractive and lovable.
The evening flew away; Father Barry was to return to Sealing the next
day, and the doctor with him for a week or two, but he would soon
come back to New York to live. At parting he said in a low voice to
Margaret,
"I am to receive communion in Father Barry's church a week from
Sunday; you will pray for me?"
"I will not forget," she answered with a happy smile.