THE BEST TREASURE
LONG before Christmas came, Aunt Milly and I had become closely
attached to each other. I had learned to love her second only to my
parents, and her own words taught me how much she cared for me.
"I shall never part with you for long together, Mildred, if I can help
it. Denesfield must always be your home, and I shall give you all
the love that I believe every true woman has stored up in her heart
ready to be lavished on her children. I have had no children of my own
to draw from that store; but you are making me pour out, on you, my
long-hidden treasure of affection."
I could hardly reply, for my eyes and my heart were full; but I am sure
she did not need words to tell her how warmly my affection was given in
return.
Perhaps the fact that my aunt was still a young woman—only thirty-six
years of age—and young-hearted, despite her past sorrow, drew us still
more closely to each other. She never forgot her own girlish tastes
and likings; and whilst often giving me wise advice, she was full of
sympathy and consideration for me. She won my entire confidence, not so
much by asking for it as by giving me her own.
The days passed quickly. We had, as Aunt Milly expected, plenty of
visitors and invitations; and in the village, too, we had become well
known both to young and old. My aunt did not wait for papa's coming
before commencing her work for the good of the poor people round
Denesfield; but she consulted him by letter, and followed his advice as
closely as possible.
We were not quite sure he would be with us for Christmas until three
days before, and then Aunt Milly, with a bright smile, gave me a letter
to read, saying:
"I was right, you will see, dear. You might have spared all your fears
and misgivings."
The letter was in my dear mother's hand, for papa was far too busy to
write; but it told that they, with the three girls, would be with us on
Christmas Eve.
Now I must tell you that, during all the time of my stay at
Denesfield—and I had been there nearly three months—I had never either
seen or heard a word about Aunt Milly's diamonds. I often caught
myself wondering that these costly jewels, so much talked of by others
before I came, were not alluded to now by the owner. My aunt spoke of
everything else, I thought; but not of these. Perhaps, after all, she
had not kept them. During those years of mourning she would not care to
wear such things; but still, it would be strange for her to part with
her husband's gift.
My curiosity was set at rest on the morning of Christmas Eve, when all
was ready for our expected dear ones; and there were only the few last
hours to while away before their arrival.
"Come up into my room, Mildred," said my aunt. "When we are expecting
very dear friends the hours seem as long as days. I will show you some
things that you have not yet seen; and looking at them will occupy a
little while."
I followed, saying, "Indeed, Aunt Milly, I do feel eager and restless.
As long as there was anything to do in the way of getting ready, I
could not move fast enough; but now everything is done."
"Well, Mildred, I am going to show you my diamonds. They have not seen
the light for a long time, for they were left at the banker's when my
husband and I went abroad; and there they remained until a few days
ago, when I had them brought home."
My aunt took out a key, the ring of which she slipped over a flower
carved on one of the panels in her room. As she did so a little iron
plate flew back, and showed a keyhole, into which my aunt put the key,
and on turning it, what I had thought to be a wooden panel moved slowly
out, and I found that it was the massive door of an iron safe. Inside
were a number of cases; and, taking them out, one after another, she
showed me their glittering contents.
I was full of astonishment and delight at the beauty of the gems; and,
as Aunt Milly took them out and placed the bracelets on my wrists, the
rings on my fingers, and the larger ornaments on neck and hair, I moved
about to see their ever-changing hues, and that curious shimmering
light which makes them seem almost alive.
"They are very beautiful, Mildred," said my aunt; "and when, sixteen
years to-day, my husband gave them to me, I thought I should never be
tired of looking at and wearing them. I wore them first on Christmas
Day, and for seven Christmas Days after that. Then for eight long
years they lay hidden and unused. I almost forgot I possessed them, so
absorbed was I with the thought of the treasure of love I had lost.
Now, I hope I have learned a better lesson. I believe my treasure is
not lost, only laid up amongst my heavenly Father's jewels, to be
restored to me again when the summons comes to call me from earth in my
turn."
"Do you never mean to wear these again, aunt?" I asked.
"Yes, dear. I intend to wear them to-morrow. I shall try to use all the
good gifts that have been bestowed upon me in their season; and I thank
God that He has made the world full of beautiful things as well as of
useful ones. Now I must lock up these jewels, Mildred, for earthly
treasures are a temptation to thieves to break through and steal. What
a happy thing that no one can rob us of our heavenly treasures!"
I do not know what possessed me to say, "What are your heavenly
treasures, Aunt Milly?"
"My dear, I hope your heart can answer such a question as well as my
voice. But I must not forget—you are young; and when I was a girl, I am
afraid, I thought more about possessing such things as these diamonds
than I did about heavenly riches."
Aunt Milly paused a moment, then she turned her face to me, lighted up
with such an expression as I had never seen there before, and said:
"I have a long list, Mildred, all bought for me at a vast cost. There
is 'an inheritance, incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not
away.' A place in one of the 'many mansions'—a welcome into the family
of God, whose child I am, through adoption in Christ. Yes, Mildred,
Denesfield is fair, but it will crumble and decay; these diamonds
glitter, but I look for 'a crown of glory, that fadeth not away,' and a
home in 'a city that bath foundations, whose Builder and Maker is God.'
I can dress here in costly clothing; but what is that to the robes
washed, the raiment made white, in the blood of the Lamb? Then there
are the beloved friends who are gone before, all kept safely in the
same treasure-house."
"My dear," exclaimed Aunt Milly, "if I were to go on speaking for
ever so long, how could I tell you all? MY earthly treasures were the
purchase and gift of my dear husband, and I must leave them behind when
I die. My heavenly ones were bought for me by the precious blood of
Jesus, and will be mine for all eternity."
Never while I live shall I forget my aunt's face and words. Never
before had I understood, so well as then, the difference between
earthly and heavenly things. My aunt, possessing all that earth could
give—fair home, glittering gems, costly raiment, obedient servants
ready to do her bidding—regarded and used them thankfully, yet counted
them as but nothing in comparison with the enduring inheritance of
God's children. Her words kept coming into my mind even after the
arrival of my father, mother, and sisters had given me something else
to think of and to do.