THE OPENING OF A NEW LIFE.
"And whether we be afflicted, it is for our consolation and salvation,
which is effectual for the enduring of the same sufferings which we also
suffer; or whether we be comforted it is for our consolation; for as all
hearts suffer, all have the power of consolation."
"Mrs. Gaylord had suffered, and out of the sad experience of her
eventful life had come the power to administer to others." Such was
Phebe's thought when on her way to the parsonage, which stood in the
suburbs of the village surrounded by its fresh green lawn that had
always appeared so winning to the lovers of beauty, and peaceful to the
seeker after "consolation."
Mr. Ernest also knew how to bestow this gift on the weary heart. His
early days had not been filled with the bright things that rightfully
belong to childhood, and his after years were those of toil and
strugglings. He understood well how to apply the sympathies so consoling
to those whose feet are torn with the thorns by the way.
Our little pedestrian was walking away from one minister of comfort to
another who was equally skilled, and it was with the greatest difficulty
that she could keep her airy feet down upon the well-beaten track which
ran along by the side of the broad highway to the pleasant home of the
village pastor, where she hoped to find Willie and extend to him Mrs.
Gaylord's pressing invitation. Mr. Ernest had told her that he usually
came in the early morning or in the cool of the evening, and now the sun
was fast sinking down behind the western clouds. There might be a storm
approaching, for the breezes were fresh and cool, and she could but
think how the ripples were sweeping around the "sand-bar" and lifting
the broad lily-pads among the rushes not far out from where the pleasant
row-boat was fastened to the old oak tree. Should she ever glide in the
little boat over the lovely blue waters again? And then, when the stern
old winter had thrown his coverlet of ice across its throbless bosom,
when the lilies were all asleep in their cozy beds, what delightful
rides she and Willie had enjoyed on its smooth surface as Lloyd Hunter
drew them on his large comfortable sled. Was all this gone forever? She
reached the door, and as no one was in sight, stopped a moment while her
thoughts went on.
Willie was not there, for his visit had been made in the morning.
"I am going by there to-morrow."
Phebe's eyes brightened.
"May _I_ go with you? Mrs. Gaylord will not let me walk so far, it not
being 'lady-like,'" she smiled. "She has invited him to our rooms, and I
am so anxious."
"Certainly, my dear; but be all ready, for I have an engagement at nine,
eight miles away."
There had been no need for this last suggestion, for Phebe felt quite
sure that with such a prospect before her she could not sleep at all.
Still, after talking the matter over with Mrs. Gaylord, and getting her
consent for the proposed visit, her heart felt a reaction at the thought
of again meeting Fanny. It seemed long since she had been there, and the
partition wall which had divided them while still together, had not been
lowered by a single act, and now really appeared more formidable than
ever when viewed at such a distance. How could she ever meet her?
When the morning sun sent his bright beams into her window she sprang
from her bed with the question still unanswered.
"Good morning," said Mrs. Gaylord, putting her head in at the door at
that very moment.
Phebe was surprised. Seldom did the lady leave her room before all of
the rest had breakfasted.
"O, you needn't look so wonderingly at me," she continued, laughing. "I
only thought I would tell you to put on your new white dress, as it is
such a lovely morning, and then I want you to appear your best, for I
know _he_ will appreciate it," and she was gone.
"Well does she know how to be a comforter," thought Phebe.
How well she remembered at that moment the last walk she had with Willie
down by the little pond, and his mournful wail of desolation as they
talked of his lonely future without her!
The bell sounded along the hall telling all who desired an early
breakfast that it was now ready, so hastening with her toilet, she
opened the door leading to Mrs. Gaylord's room, and to her surprise
found her also ready to go with her.
"I have had a new thought," she said gaily, "and have ordered the
carriage. We will go together and take him out for a little airing.
Rover, I have no doubt, will be much obliged to be excused for one day.
Two miles and a half is a pretty long road for such a brute to draw so
heavy a load."
Phebe made no answer, for she was a little disappointed. She had
anticipated the walk back and the uninterrupted talk more than she had
herself been aware of.
"Do you not like my arrangement?" queried the lady, artlessly.
Phebe expressed much pleasure at the prospect, and, come to think of it,
"the new plan was preferable, as it would take away all embarrassment in
the meeting with Fanny."
The carriage was at the door when the two were ready, and in a few
minutes they halted before the parsonage to report the change. Then away
they rolled on their delicate errand of pleasure and comfort.
Never had Phebe looked so fresh and pretty as now. Her plain hat of
white straw sat jauntily on her heavy braids of jetty hair, from beneath
which her dark eyes shone with a new brilliancy, her dress, about which
Mrs. Gaylord had been so particular, set off her well rounded form to
the best advantage, and as she sat by the richly attired lady no one
would have imagined that the two were mistress and menial. Some such
thoughts must have passed through the mind of the young girl, for her
cheeks glowed, and an air of worth if not superiority, sat with easy
dignity upon her every movement.
"There he is," she exclaimed, as they came in sight of the white cottage
among the maples. "He is waiting for us."
"Hurry Frank," said the lady, "he does not yet recognize you Phebe."
"Willie, dear brother Willie!" she called out as the carriage drew up
before the gate, and in a moment she had darted down by his side, and
throwing her arms around his neck said cheerily: "Come, Willie, Mrs.
Gaylord wants to take you out for a ride! It is lovely, and Rover can
have a rest!" His face crimsoned as he realized that strangers were
witnessing their joyful meeting. Unperceived Mrs. Gaylord had
approached, and holding out her hand said pleasantly: "Phebe was so
selfish that she was going to have you all to herself but I concluded to
defeat her plans. Will you be so kind as to go with us and spend the day
at our rooms? We will try to make it very pleasant for you." All this
was said with so much tenderness that it would have been impossible for
the poor boy to refuse.
"Let me get your hat, for I see that you are all ready as usual," and
Phebe forgetting her dread of the "frigid Fanny" rushed into the house,
meeting that important personage on the very threshold.
"Good morning" was her cheerful salutation; "we are going to take Willie
away from you for a few hours, and I have come for his hat."
"He has not been to breakfast yet," was the chilling reply. "I think you
had better wait and give him time to eat."
"Perhaps it would be better," ejaculated Phebe as she passed her, hat in
hand.
"In the meantime would you not like to go with me down our pleasant walk
to the pond?" asked Phebe, as she came back where Mrs. Gaylord and
Willie were conversing familiarly. The lady cheerfully consented and
they were soon out of sight among the trees that skirted the meadow
brook. When they returned, Willie was sitting by the side of Frank and
his usually pale face was flushed with excitement.
"If you like we will go around by the old town road," said the driver as
the rest of his company became seated. "It will be two miles farther
back but it is cool and shady." "All right!" and the happy trio were
rapidly borne away. Phebe had told her friend how her "dear brother"
became so helpless and his sensitiveness in regard to it, and had more
than once seen the tears of sympathy glisten in the fine eyes of the
listener at the narration.
"His feet and limbs below the knees have not grown since he was a baby,"
she had said; "and of course they cannot bear the body, which is well
developed. He can creep about very well, but is unwilling that any one
outside of his own home should see him. When a mere child he has told me
his manner of locomotion was to sit and _hitch_ himself about, which
gave him the appellation among the boys of 'hitch Evans' which so
mortified his pride that he would not appear among them."
"Poor boy!" was the low response. Now, however, Mrs. Gaylord chatted
pleasantly with him about the beauties of the landscape--the fading
glories of the passing summer and of her own home in the sunny south,
until as he said after, "I forgot that I was a mere cypher amid it all."
At last they arrived at the hotel, and as Frank with his strong arms set
him on the broad winding stairway he scrambled up to the top on his
hands and knees, laughing as he did so because Phebe would wait for his
slow movements rather than trip forward with Mrs. Gaylord, who wanted to
see if Tiny had all things in readiness.
It was a delightful day to them all. Dinner was served in the upper
room, and Phebe thought as she watched the glowing face of her brother
that it was never before half so beautiful as now. Was it because Phebe
was again near him? Or had the kind words and suggestions of his new
friend aroused energies of which before he was not conscious? It was
true that every moment had been filled with reading and conversation and
it was all so new to Willie! "It is a fact," continued Mrs. Gaylord
after Tiny had taken off the last dish from the table; "that many with
far less brains and more inefficient than yourself have filled important
places in the world's history. With exercise I do not see why your body
should not become sturdy and robust. I have a friend in Boston who has a
large clothing store and manufactures his own goods, and the great
object of insisting upon your company to-day was to tell you that I
will, if you desire it, bring your case to his notice, and if he favors
my suggestions will let you know all about it."
"O--if I could!" came from his overflowing heart. "If I could only do
something! I have always been told that it was no use for me to exert
myself for I was helpless, and I had settled down as far as it was
possible on that supposition."
"But you are not! Your present skill with the needle has its advantages
and in a very short time you would be independent at least. Labor
brings contentment and with it the years would not pass so laggardly."
Phebe had come up behind him and was smoothing his brown curls with her
gentle hand, and reaching up his trembling one he clasped hers tightly
as he asked:
"Phebe, more than sister, can I do this? Will the time ever come when I
shall cease to eat the bread of dependence? Tell me Phebe, for your
words have ever given me strength; am I truly only the long withered
stalk you hold as the emblem of myself?"
"No, Willie! Believe what Mrs. Gaylord has said and grow firm! You
can--you will! I feel it in my heart you 'will go up the stairs' and
leave some at the foot who do not now expect to stay there! I thought of
it to-day and determined not to let you go ahead of me, and so kept
close by your side." She laughed while he warmly pressed the hand he had
been holding.
"You see," interposed Mrs. Gaylord, "Phebe and I have talked a little
about this but I did not mention, even to her, the plans which for more
than two weeks I have been maturing. To-morrow we will go to the city,
Phebe and I, and see what can be done, and if you will come to us on the
following day all can be decided."
It _was_ decided! Mr. Bancroft of Boston would do well by him; take him
into his own home and see that his wants were attended to until he had
become efficient in the business, and then give him a place in his
establishment if he proved himself worthy.
"Worthy?" exclaimed Phebe; "he is noble--he will be all you can
desire!"
"The hearts of young ladies are not always reliable in _business_
relations," replied the gentleman with a mischievous twinkle in his
bright eye. "However, Mrs. Gaylord, upon your maturer judgment I will
try him, for really you have excited in me an interest for the young
man; and I see no reason why he cannot be a master workman. _I_ began
life by coiling my feet under me on the bench, and I could have done it
just as well had they not been incased in No. 9's." He laughed. "His
Rover will be just the thing; he can soon be taught to bring his master
to his work and return to his kennel for protection. And by the way, I
shall be obliged to see that _his_ animal has an 'ordinance' of its own.
They kill dogs here so promiscuously."
"_I_ had thought of that and concluded to set Pompy at work training
another for his use as soon as I return home. You know he is famous at
such work."
Willie received the report of their successful mission in the city
with almost ecstatic joy. "Can it be true?" he thought. There would
be difficulties; any amount of pride must be overcome--shrinking
sensitiveness subdued--but he would try! To have aspirations--anticipations
of success--what more could he desire?
In three days Mrs. Gaylord would go with Willie to his new home and
Phebe was to accompany them.
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