* * * * "'Tis with our souls
As with our eyes, that, after a long darkness,
Are dazzled at th' sudden approach of light;
When in th' midst of fears we are surpris'd
With unexpected happiness; the first
Degrees of joy are mere astonishment." DENHAM.
_Saturday, May 20th._
I have been to-day with Emily and Pauline to make some calls. On our
return, we drove to the small tenement occupied by the Reynolds family.
We found the contented, happy wife busy in the performance of her
household duties. She said, she wanted to sing for joy at the
reformation of her husband. He was well with the exception of a dreadful
faintness at his stomach, the consequence of leaving off the stimulus to
which he has been so long accustomed. She said, she had sometimes
thought of applying to the Doctor for a remedy; "but," she added with
emotion, "after all he has done for us, I do not wish to trouble him."
I answered, "he will take pleasure in rendering your husband relief."
"Oh yes, indeed, we are all aware of that. William would not have had
the employment which enables him to support his family, had your husband
not gone to Mr. Hunter and presented the case to him. Then it would have
been a long time before he could have earned clothes suitable to go to
church."
"Mr. Jones knows well how to sympathize with him in his efforts to
reform."
"Yes," and a curious look passed over her face. "But he told William at
last that he could not keep it from him any longer. Thomas did indeed go
with him to the tailor's, and order the garments, but it was by
direction of your good husband, who paid the bill."
"Oh! Frank," said I to myself, "you've begun to have secrets and to keep
them from me." Yet I was quite delighted that my husband's
"Charity ever
Finds in the act reward, and needs no trumpet
In the receiver."
As we were leaving, Mrs. Reynolds said, "I walked last evening to our
old home, and it made my heart ache to see how neglected the place
appeared. But my husband has a purpose, and if God prospers us with
health and strength, we shall accomplish it. This is to purchase back
the cottage. Do you think," she eagerly asked, "the Squire would refuse
to sell?"
Emily fell into such a reverie that I could get no answer to my numerous
questions until we reached home. Then she directed Cæsar to drive her to
Squire Lee's.
_Monday, May 29th._
For a number of days some mysterious project has been going forward.
Emily spends half her time with Lucy Lee. The Doctor is implicated in
it, as I perceive from sundry whisperings and signs, which are instantly
hushed at my approach. Yesterday I came upon them unawares, and heard
distinctly mention made of a lawyer, legal instruments, witnesses and
the like. I can easily imagine that Lucy is to be married to Allen; and
that the Doctor and a lawyer are advising the old gentleman about his
will. How astonished they will be at my shrewdness, when I tell them, I
was well aware of their secret all the time.
_Tuesday. May 30th._
How true it is that life is made up of sun and shade. I was never more
impressed with this idea than I have been to-day. A short time since I
called, as I mentioned, upon Mrs. Reynolds, and found her in comfort,
with her husband restored to her and to his family, and looking forward
with joyous anticipation to the time when they should be the proprietors
of their once beautiful home.
Alas! how soon these hopes were dashed! The poor woman came to me this
morning, weeping bitterly. It has been their custom when the father
returned from his work, and when the labor of the day was completed, for
all the now united and happy family to take a stroll for pleasure.
Almost invariably their steps have been directed to the place rendered
dear by pleasant associations. Last evening when they were approaching
it, they were greatly astonished to see that something unusual was going
forward, and hastening their steps, they found to their dismay that the
occupants had received notice to vacate the premises, as the place was
sold. Vain were all their endeavors to learn the name of the purchaser.
The tenants neither knew nor cared, for they were perplexed at being
obliged to leave their comfortable quarters, though they acknowledged
that one month's rent had been given them by the purchaser, in
consideration of their consenting to leave at once.
Hardly conscious of what she did, Mrs. Reynolds followed her husband
from room to room, rendered desolate by the removal of the furniture
while harder and harder grew the face of the bowed man, until at length
he sunk upon the steps of the door, and cried aloud. "I didn't know
until then," she added, "how much he had set his heart upon having the
old place. True it has been our constant conversation whenever he has
been at home; and so sure did he feel of going back, that he had
promised each of the children a flower-garden equal to any their mother
ever had."
I could not keep back my tears at witnessing the unrestrained grief of
the afflicted woman. "I could bear it myself," she continued, sobbing,
"but William has given up, and says, it is no use now, trying to be
anything."
Though I feared, it would be in vain, I did all I could to encourage
her and told her the Doctor would inquire about it, and see if the
purchaser could not be bought off. "At any rate," I said, "William can
put up a cottage like it. You must not allow your husband to despond."
She went away with her heart somewhat lightened. When Frank came in, I
related her story to him, and was greatly encouraged by his hopeful view
of the subject.
He said, "I will see Reynolds immediately." I am often astonished that
my dear husband with so large a practice finds time to render so many
acts of kindness to those around him.
_Tuesday, June 6th._
My dear mother, I have so much to tell you, I scarcely know where to
begin. Frank has hinted to me a number of times, that he intended to
celebrate Pauline's birth-day in good style, as the poor girl had taken
such a burden upon herself at the celebration of her brother's
birth-day. But when I inquired for farther particulars, he always turned
it off with a laugh. When I went this morning to the kitchen, I found
Phebe in her element, saying. "Mass'r Frank gib orders for cake and
pies, for twenty people, and Ruth say ole missus is g'wine to make bread
and boil meat."
What can all this mean! I walked straight to the cottage to learn what I
could from mother. My rising wrath at being kept so entirely in the dark
was somewhat mollified by finding her as ignorant as myself. She was,
however, busy in preparing dishes for a bountiful supper, according to
the wish of Emily. My dear, artless mother did not deceive me, when she
pretended not to hear as I eagerly asked, "have you no idea of the
meaning of all this secrecy?" I said no more, but walked back,
soliloquizing whether it would be wiser for me to insist upon knowing
without farther delay, or to allow matters to approach the crisis. I had
concluded upon the latter course when I saw Frank drive into the yard. I
did not stop, however, for I intended to keep up my dignity, and to
appear perfectly indifferent. So I went to my room and gave Pauline her
lesson; but Frank peeped in and beckoned me away.
I put on a very serious air and followed him. "Come now," said he,
kissing me, "you can't make me believe you are angry; I see your mouth
twitch; I've some good news for you."
In my curiosity, I threw away my reserve, and listened eagerly to his
story, which I must go back a little to render intelligible. It appears
that Emily's large heart was swelling with "a purpose" when she so
suddenly started for Squire Lee's, on our return from visiting the
humble abode of Mrs. Reynolds. Undefined, at first, she confessed it
was; but a vague idea was flitting through her mind, of persuading the
owner to give back Rose Cottage to its former occupants. Sometimes her
hopes rose high, and then she was tempted to abandon her project. The
thought of expecting "the hardened old man" (as the Squire had
universally been called until his sickness,) the thought of asking such
a man to give away what he valued at ten or twelve hundred dollars,
merely to encourage the reformation of his inferior who had been ruined
in his employment, seemed hopeless and absurd. But the image of the
patient sufferer, eagerly listening to her praises of his daughter, gave
her courage to proceed, and she tapped gently at the door of his room,
where she was sure to find Lucy.
After talking pleasantly with the old gentleman for a few moments, Lucy
in obedience to a motion from Emily, retired with her to the inner
apartment. There she made bold to divulge her plans and wishes, to which
there was no want of attention on the part of the listener. She,
however, made no reply until Emily had finished, when she took her hand,
saying, "Come and tell father."
From this, even the courageous Emily shrank, saying "No, Lucy, you will
do the business far better."
But Lucy only smiled, and pulled her forward, saying, "Tell him just as
you have told me. He won't be displeased."
So Emily sat down at his feet and told him all her heart. He listened
with a pleased attention; and when she described the patient suffering
of the gentle Anna, the beautiful children cursed with a drunken father,
his breast heaved with emotion. Emily grew warm with her subject, and
remembering that she was asking more than he had ever done in his life,
she burst out, "Dear sir, if you should make this family happy, it would
be so delightful for you to reflect upon as you sit here day after day.
You would become so interested for them, and Lucy would so rejoice to
hear their generous praise of their kind benefactor."
He shook his head while a few tears silently coursed down his furrowed
cheek. "You forget that I _made_ them miserable."
"Well, then," she continued, "now you have an opportunity to turn their
grief into joy, and to render them very happy;" and looking at the
portrait opposite, upon which the sun was shining, "how happy she would
have been to have you perform so generous an act."
There appeared to be a dreadful conflict between his incrusted
covetousness and the benevolence which by the grace of God was springing
up in his soul. Lucy came and kneeled by Emily's side holding her
father's hand caressingly in hers. "Well, daughter," said he
affectionately, "Rose farm is yours, give it to whom you please."
The young advocates were overjoyed at their success, and Lucy kissed her
father repeatedly, while Emily warmly pressed his hand. In the peace and
joy which filled his breast, Squire Lee for the first time realized the
truth of the inspired declaration, "It is more blessed to give than to
receive."
Lucy readily promised to keep the whole transaction a profound secret
until the proper moment should arrive for the denouement. Emily also
promised with the assistance of her brother to arrange all the business.
_Wednesday, June 7th._
I had not time last evening to finish Emily's story. Her frequent
conversations with Frank were connected with the legal transfer of the
estate. How wise I thought myself in having seen through their plot!
At length, all was concluded. The legal instruments were prepared and
executed, conveying the property from the Squire to his daughter, and
from her to Mrs. Reynolds and her children, reserving the use thereof to
Mr. Reynolds, provided he remained true to his pledge of entire
abstinence from intoxicating drinks. But in the event of his violating
his pledge, the same was to revert to his wife and children.
The family occupying the house, were the next morning notified to leave,
as Emily had determined to restore it to its original beauty. The
Doctor, however, insisted that I should have the pleasure of giving the
furniture, and he put money into her hand for that purpose.
The important day had now arrived for the removal of William and Anna
Reynolds to their sweet home, while as yet they knew nothing of the
great happiness in store for them. It was for the purpose of carrying me
to invite them to Pauline's birth-day party, that Frank had returned. He
had left Emily and Lucy busily engaged in setting up the furniture which
Cæsar had yesterday carried there. I rode with him to their humble
abode, and found Anna sitting at her sewing in rather a disconsolate
mood, on account of the continued grief of her husband, at the supposed
loss of the cottage.
But she very gladly accepted Miss Pauline's invitation and promised to
keep her children from school and to be ready when Cæsar should call for
them. Such a bustle of preparation as now went forward, I have hardly
seen. The good Cæsar was constantly coming and going, laden with baskets
of provisions, crockery and other household utensils. As he passed the
door, he stopped the horse, and drawing himself up, said in a
consequential tone, "Cæsar knows Misse Emily no do widout dis chile on
dis great 'casion. Mass'r Lenox allus powerful good to sich kind. Dis
de gemman allus 'prove mass'r plans."
At length, the hour arrived, and Pauline was arranged in a white dress
with pink sash and bows to her sleeves. I left her at Rose Cottage with
the assembled company, and as requested returned with Cæsar to bring the
new proprietors to their abode.
They were all in readiness, William arrayed in his new suit, and
evidently striving to appear cheerful; Mrs. Reynolds, Anna and Willie
were neatly dressed for the occasion. When we were seated in the
carriage, I told Cæsar, I had an errand at the west part of the town;
and if Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds would excuse us, we would go there first.
Cæsar showed his white teeth so much that I feared, they would suspect
something. As we approached our destination, I saw white dresses here
and there flitting by the windows, and a little head peeping from the
attic to watch for us.
William covered his face with his hands. He could not bear to witness
the improvements which he had already planned for himself. Mrs. Reynolds
held her husband's hand in silence, while the children eagerly looked,
expecting that we should drive past. But when we stopped, and first
Lucy, then Emily, followed by mother, the Doctor and Pauline came to the
door and bid them welcome to Rose Cottage, it was too much. William
sprang upon his feet, and stood with a vacant look, first at one, and
then at another, and finally sank back on the cushion weeping aloud.
Mrs. Reynolds turned very red and pale by turns, while the children
shouted for joy, as they were helped from the carriage into the newly
painted hall.
It was not, however, till assisted by the Doctor (for his trembling
knees would scarce support him) that Mr. Reynolds could speak. When he
with his wife were seated in the neatly furnished parlor, Lucy with
moistened eyes presented him with a document, when he exclaimed, "I
can't! _Oh! I can't take it!_"
Frank saw that he was laboring under some mistake, though _what_ it was
he could hardly conceive, and fearing lest the joy would be too much for
him, he took the document from the donor, and said kindly, "My good
friends, this young lady is the owner of the cottage, and she has
invited us here to partake of a little feast in honor of Pauline's
birth-day. As this was formerly your home, we thought it would be
pleasant for you to meet us here."
"Oh! _no!_ NO!! I can't stay," cried the poor man sobbing aloud, and
wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his coat.
"But," persisted Frank, "I thought you were very anxious to see the new
owner, in order to ascertain whether you could at some future time
purchase it yourself."
"Yes, so I was, and so I am, but not _here_." He soon, however, became
more composed.
Mrs. Reynolds appeared to suffer almost as much as her husband; but long
sorrow had given her more control over her feelings. "William," she said
in a low voice, "our friends who have done so much for us invited us
here to give us pleasure. Let us try to enjoy it. They could not know,"
she continued with a sigh, "how very sad we should feel."
I stood near them, and almost without a thought, asked, "How can you
bear to live here then when you have purchased it?"
"Oh! that would be very different," replied Anna. "But will her father
allow her to sell?" she inquired, looking most earnestly at Lucy.
William also aroused at this question, and with open mouth awaited the
reply.
I looked at Lucy with a smile, and she said, "it is with his consent and
permission that I now make over to you the right and title to Rose
Cottage. Henceforth it is yours."
For one instant, they both seemed stupefied; and then as if actuated by
one heart, they sunk upon their knees. Amid tears of joy, we all
followed their example, when Frank in a most appropriate prayer thanked
God in their behalf and dedicated the happy abode to "_temperance_,
_union_ and _love_."
When we arose, our hearts were somewhat relieved. Mr. Reynolds pressed
his wife to his heart, and thanked God for such a treasure. When he
became more composed, he said, "I am well aware that it is the purity
and goodness of my Anna which have thus met their reward; but I hope and
believe, this gift will stimulate me to imitate her example."
I cannot describe to you the astonishment as well as delight of the now
happy pair as they went from room to room, and beheld the well filled
closets, and every convenience for house-keeping. They could not realize
such a change in the Squire as that he should voluntarily give up this
property. When we sat at the well furnished board, Emily, who presided,
playfully asked Mrs. Reynolds to excuse her for taking the head of the
table. But that lady could not reply except by a tearful smile. We
hurried through supper in order to leave the family alone and give them
an opportunity to recover from their excited feelings. As we did so,
Lucy put into Mrs. Reynolds's hand the document, her husband had
refused.