PEACEABLE FRUITS.
MRS. HAYNES was sitting in her bedroom, hoping to be called into the
council which she knew was being held on the subject of ways and means.
But no summons came, and she heard the carriage driven away, and her
husband's step languidly returning upstairs. Then she joined him,
anxious and troubled at the expression of his countenance.
"Dear Herbert, my father will help us?" she said inquiringly.
"Yes, he will help us, Ellinor, if—"
"Oh, let us thank God for that! All will be well again now. And he
makes conditions; perhaps he wants you to do something you don't like.
But never mind, dear; it will be nothing wrong, I am sure."
Mr. Haynes walked up and down the room while he detailed to his wife
the conversation he had just held with her father.
She sat down, and as he went on with the old gentleman's scheme, she
covered her face with her hands, and besought of her Father in heaven,
humility and submission to what she saw to be His will. Pride and
natural feeling revolted terribly for a brief space, but she knew the
need, she saw the wisdom, and resolved in the strength of God what her
course should be.
Mr. Haynes said he could not see his way to anything better. True, he
might go abroad, and try his fortune in another land; and he could
struggle alone, but it might end in disappointment for years, and he
might die away from all he loved, who would be no better off for all
his struggles.
"For myself I do not care, it will only be selling yards instead of
bales, but for you and our children I feel the change. If I accept
this plan, you must have a small house out of town, where I will come
when I can; and I will just keep one room, and let all the rest of the
premises."
Mrs. Haynes had fought her battle with the first shock of this new
idea; and with a face of cheerful resolution she rose, and, putting her
arm within that of her husband, paced up and down with him.
"No, Herbert," she said affectionately; "we will share alike, whatever
it is to be. There is nothing in my father's offer which need distress
us so much. We have lost our house, furniture, position, it is true;
but here we are ourselves, safe and well, able and willing to help each
other. Do you not think you could endure this—this shop for all our
sakes, dear husband?"
"I can bear anything for your sakes, except to see you humbled and
slighted and pained, and—"
"Hush, dearest! I am humbled before God for all my wicked extravagance
and selfishness in time past; slights, if they come, I can bear and
smile at, and the only pain I shall feel will be caused by your
regrets. Now let us talk of our new way of life to our children, not
as if it were to be deplored, but as a proof of God's goodness and
care, in giving us an opportunity to redeem our credit, permitting us
to keep together, and enabling us to prove, as we shall prove, that a
wife and daughters are not helpless burdens on your hands, but loving,
industrious sharers of your toils and cares."
Never did Herbert Haynes feel so rich and proud as at that moment.
Never had he known the heroic spirit that slept beneath the soft
indolence and fashionable frivolity in which he had indulged his wife.
Half his load of trouble and vexation seemed removed already, and only
the hand of a gentle, delicate woman had touched it for him.
"My Ellinor," he said, "we have our best portion left still. I will be
content, and you shall teach me your precious secret. We will cease to
care for appearances, except to 'avoid the appearance of evil'; and we
will go at once, as your father advises, to the foot of the ladder, and
begin life afresh."
"And I will go and tell my father our decision; I shall like to talk it
over with him, so I will follow him at once."
But not until she had knelt to bless God, and lay again at her
Saviour's feet the offering of a heart to be moulded to His will, and
consecrated to His service.
"Well, Ellinor," said Mr. Fairfield, "are you come to bid the old man
mind his own business?"
"No, dear father; I am come to thank you for minding ours, and to
assure you of my readiness to carry out any plan you propose for our
benefit."
"Good, my dear; I rejoice to hear it. So much for the letter of it, but
what of the spirit? Is it a hard, imperative necessity, or is there
a willing mind?" And, glancing down at a book on which his arm was
resting, he continued, "Once I used to teach you out of this good Book,
Nelly, and I hoped you knew something of its principle, but you have
lost sight of them in the world."
"I think they are coming back to me now, father. I have been very
sinful and rebellious, and in some measure am only reaping the fruit
of my own ways, but I do believe it is forgiven, and the Lord whom I
have shamefully neglected is going to teach me how to live to better
purpose."
"My dear child, my precious Nelly," said the old man, smoothing her
brow and kissing her as in childhood, as she knelt beside him with
tearful eyes and faltering voice, "have I lived to hear this from thee
after years of disappointment? Verily, it is good for thee to have been
afflicted."
Then he calmed her and himself with some of the sweet words of that
holy Book, and tenderly commended her and hers to the loving care and
wise providence of Him who "doeth all things well," and who, when trial
comes to His children, "will with the temptation also make a way to
escape," that they "may be able to bear it."
"Then you don't think my conditions too hard, my dear?"
"Oh no, father; you have a right to order all as you think best."
"I have prayed and pondered on it, Nelly, and even if I could afford
it, it would defeat the blessing that I trust is to spring out of your
trouble, were you replaced at once in the position lost by (I don't
mean to grieve you, my child, but things ought to be called by right
names) covetous speculation and reckless expenditure. Your children
will get a truer view of right principle, and a worthy object in life;
and they are not quite old enough to feel the change as they would have
done a year or two hence. I think your trial decidedly the greatest,
but if you seek grace to bear it well, you will come out of it refined
and strengthened, and feeling that you would not have had it ordered
otherwise. Anywhere with our God and Saviour, dear Nelly; without Him,
nowhere."
"I am beginning to understand it, dear father; and I feel that I cannot
count up the mercies that are clustering round our trouble."
"That's the way, my darling; come, we shall soon have back all the
sunshine. I was going to say that the plan I propose is the best I can
think of after mature deliberation; and if any one were to say that
the old man might have come out more liberally, you will know my means
and motives, and it does not matter to anybody else. To help people to
help themselves is, in my view, the truest help of all. But what about
Herbert's proposal of living by himself at this shop, while you—"
"Oh, father, do not give it another thought. You do not believe that I
could be so mean and selfish? No, we will strive and work together, and
without a visiting list, I shall have time for everything."
"Right again, my dear. Get a good strong servant, and let your children
help you in your household duties. It will do them good, and we will
see that education in other things is not forgotten, when Herbert
sees how he is going to get on. At present, the boys must continue at
day school, for I suppose they would be no particular help among the
household goods. They can come here, you know, on holidays, and kick up
their heels with old Captain in the paddock. That's right, my Nelly;
I'm glad to see you smile again. Now go and look at the house, which is
really a very good one, and we'll make it as comfortable as we can."
Mr. Fairfield was true to his word, and scarcely was everything settled
with Mrs. Haynes and her children in their new abode when two or three
ladies, not the gay butterflies who had helped her to go shopping when
she wanted nothing, and gossip in the idle chat of the day for precious
hours that could never be recalled, but women who knew the real value
of time and the real worth or worthlessness of the world's opinion,
came to offer a friendship where they had felt no inducement to respect
before.
One was a former schoolfellow of Mrs. Haynes, in the same rank of
life, but who had ceased their early intimacy from the extreme gaiety
and style in which Mrs. Haynes had latterly indulged. She came in her
carriage, and moved through the shop, and between rolls of carpet as
though she saw nothing of them. And when the door of the sitting-room
closed behind her, and she sat down by Mrs. Haynes on the sofa, she put
her arms affectionately round her, gave her a loving kiss, and said, "I
am proved a true discerner of spirits, Ellinor; I always said you were
fitted for something better than fashion and folly."
Mrs. Haynes burst into tears at this unexpected view of her case,
and soon found in this wise, kind Christian friend, one of those
sweeteners of some of life's bitter draughts, whose blessed province
it is to go about like sunbeams, warming and gladdening wherever they
find admittance. Mrs. Haynes wanted no pity, no sentimental sighing
over "misfortunes," nor ostentatious favours from self-satisfied
superiors, but it was good for her to have sympathy, and society, and
encouragement from one who arrogated nothing, and met her on the common
ground of Christian fellowship and self-surrender to God's righteous
will.
And very useful as well as pleasant this true friendship proved on both
sides.
Another visitor, and soon a welcome one, was the wife of the clergyman
in whose district they now lived, and who, without intrusiveness, or
the smallest tincture of condescension in word or manner, contrived
to break down any barrier of pride that might remain in the chastened
heart, and give and receive confidence and affection.
Mr. Haynes observed his wife appreciated by such friends as these
with deep gratification and thankfulness; and as he saw her devote
herself with a cheerful face and willing hand to duties until recently
performed for her by servants, and felt the comfort and propriety
of her personal exertions, he looked beyond the gift to the great
Giver, and began not only to bless God for a religion so practical and
beautiful in its manifestation, but to covet for himself "like precious
faith," which could produce such precious fruits.
The children, seeing the submission of their parents to the great
change which had occurred, ceased all murmurs and complaints, and began
to take an interest in rendering assistance, selecting each her special
department in which to become useful, and striving which should most
effectually save trouble and exertion to mamma.
After a few months, and seeing all going on so far better than he had
ventured to anticipate, Mr. Fairfield proposed that certain studies
should be resumed which it was desirable to acquire early, but which
should not be allowed to interfere with the regularity and order of
domestic engagements. And, three times a week, a certain portion of the
day was devoted to the best instructors the town afforded. Thus affairs
were progressing when the young cousins were invited for the holidays.
Margaret's manners were so offensive that even Leonard sometimes felt
ashamed, and gladly got away with the boys whenever it was possible.
Mrs. Haynes, feeling that she must be unhappy, determined to speak
to her on the subject, and to try and win her to a better view of
circumstances.
"My dear Margaret," she said, "I am sorry to think that you do not
enjoy your visit. Your cousins are at a loss to find any way of
interesting or pleasing you."
"Oh, they need not trouble themselves about me," said Margaret. "I
don't need any amusement, as if I were a baby."
"I should not think them hospitable or courteous, to say nothing of
being kind, if they were not anxious to please you, Margaret. Will you
tell me, dear girl, why you reject all our efforts, and sit so silent
and absorbed?"
Margaret did not speak, but looked very foolish; she had not expected
such a point-blank attack.
"My dear," said her aunt, drawing her to sit down by her side, "you are
ashamed to tell me; and therefore I hope, when I show you the reason,
that you will see its unreasonableness, and discard it at once. You
think we have disgraced ourselves and our connexions by coming to keep
this shop; and you are afraid of being in any way identified with it,
or with us."
Margaret hung her head and kept silence.
"Now, dear Margaret, I would not touch upon a sad subject wantonly to
grieve you, but what do you suppose would have been your dear father's
position, had he lived to know and feel that he had lost everything he
possessed?"
"He would have done something else," said Margaret slowly.
"Nothing that could have restored you all to comfort and
respectability, Margaret, so soon, so peacefully, as accepting my
father's offer has restored us. I want to tell you how it all happened,
and how, in the goodness of God, we were enabled to trample on all
such pride as that which is tormenting you now, and to resolve to be
industrious and happy in a humbler sphere, rather than be poor and
miserable in a struggle to maintain our former rank."
"But," said Margaret bitterly, "you can never be a lady again. People
will always know that you kept a shop."
Mrs. Haynes smiled, and simply said,—
"What is a lady, Margaret?"
Had Margaret looked up at the sweet, intelligent countenance and
dignified form beside her, she would have been at no loss to answer the
question; and not "'you were,'" but "'you are' a lady," must have been
her conviction.
"I suspect I can define her for you according to your present idea,
Margaret. She is made up of a fine house, plenty of servants, a
carriage, gay company, handsome dress, the world's attention, and
she never keeps a shop. She may be in debt, her dress unpaid for,
her servants wanting their wages, her table wasteful, her husband
struggling to keep up appearances, but she is a lady still, and does
not keep a shop. I have known such, but where the ladyship really was I
do not know."
"What do you call a lady?" asked Margaret.
"One who to a cultivated mind, refined manner, Christian principle, and
a loving heart, adds faith in God's providence and submission to His
will," replied the aunt.
"Ay, even though her husband keeps a shop," said a cheery voice. And
Mr. Fairfield, who had entered the room unperceived, and heard the
conversation as he stood concealed by the large damask curtain, came
forward with a warm greeting for his daughter.
"Not what I am, Margaret, but what I wish to be, and am striving to
be," Mrs. Haynes gently interposed.
And then Mr. Fairfield, addressing himself to the niece, added—"Know,
young lady (I merely use the term as the conventional expression for
all young things, whether in shops or out of them), that I never knew
my daughter's worth in any of the departments of female duty until I
proposed this method of retrieving credit and honour. I care not, and
she now agrees with me, for a term so abused, so misapplied, but we
have the genuine thing now, a true lady of the court of the King of
kings."
"Margaret will now understand us better, I hope," said Mrs. Haynes,
"and prove her own right to the title she prizes so highly."
"My dear child," said the old gentleman kindly, "take your point of
view for all things and circumstances through life from Him who is at
God's right hand for sinners. 'Looking unto Jesus,' you will imbibe His
principles, and sympathise in His purposes, and learn to honour those
whom He approves. He detests the paltry pride of this world's little
people; and, knowing man's great snare, has chosen some of the most
despised to be the instruments of His grandest deeds. I do not mean
that your aunt should associate with all the shopkeepers in the town,
or adopt their ways, and give up the refinement and delicacy which are
congenial to her habits and character, but I do say that she must not
look down on any, nor heed the senseless pride that looks down on her.
May she think very lightly of 'the honour that cometh from man,' and
prize very highly that 'which cometh from God only.' You do the same,
and you will be a wiser, happier child than you seem to be at present."
"I declare they talk like Myra," thought poor Margaret. "Have they got
the religion of Jesus too?"
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