LOOKING FORWARD.
"Fetters and warder for the Graeme!"
SCOTT. _Lady of the Lake._
The two months that followed passed very quickly for Nora, more quickly
than they did for Roland, in the hot, dusty town. She had her visitors
from Minton,--Mr. Alden, who, came down, an ever-welcome guest, for a
fortnight's rest, and told her of Roland's unwearied labors and his
growing influence in Minton; and Miss Spencer, who came for a few days
of refreshing change from her hospital wards. Lizzie Mason and her
family were now settled in the cottage that Nora had secured for them.
And Lizzie was intensely happy in the possession of a tiny
flower-garden; though it was only too evident that she was in a settled
decline, and would not, probably, see another summer. But, though quite
aware of this, she was full of a serene peace that often recalled to
Nora the "Story of Ida," which she had lent to Lizzie, in the days of
their first acquaintance, and which had not been without results in a
nature so fitted to receive its teaching.
One warm evening, late in August, Nora was slowly returning from a visit
to Lizzie, when she heard a rapid step behind her, and, looking back,
saw to her surprise, the very person she was at that moment thinking
about--Roland Graeme.
"Why," she exclaimed, with astonishment, "I had no idea _you_ were so
near!"
"I only came down by this evening's train," he said, in a grave tone, as
he shook hands, looking earnestly at her with an expression that brought
the color to her cheek; "and I was just coming to report myself. There
were some things I wanted to be the first to tell you."
They walked on, very slowly, up the drive, and turned aside to the seats
under the beech-tree, Roland saying little till then. Both, indeed,
seemed to have very little to say.
"I suppose," he began, "you have heard of Mr. Dunlop's sudden death."
"Yes,--Will wrote to us about it," she replied. "I knew it would be a
great sorrow to you. You would miss him so much."
"I do,--more than I could have believed," he said, warmly. "He was so
honest, so true, so practical, so kind-hearted, under all the seeming
roughness. He has been the kindest of friends to me."
And he was silent for a little. Nora was silent, too. The whippoorwill
in a neighboring thicket, indefatigably piping away at his interminable
refrain, had it all to himself for awhile.
Then Roland spoke with an effort: "I almost hate to say it," he said,
"for it seems heartless to speak of such things now; but Mr. Dunlop
always said he would rather die suddenly, like that. And--I must say it
some time--he has left the bulk of his property to _me_. Why, I cannot
tell."
"Oh," exclaimed Nora, "I am so glad!"
"It is," he said, "in some measure, a _trust_. He left it to me, he
said, in his will, because he knew that I should use it as he should
wish it used, and could trust me fully. And in this light I mean to
regard it. I have made my plans already. But there's one thing that it
makes possible for me, that was not possible before,--to ask you for
something that would be better than all this world's treasure to me.
Can't you guess what it is,--dear?"
The last words were scarcely audible, as he bent to meet her sweet
upward glance. Again the whippoorwill had it all to himself, and piped
away more cheerily and industriously than ever, as if inspired, in his
own love-making, by a human example. What he may have afterwards
heard--is not to be repeated here. Philanthropists and reformers are not
much wiser than other people, in such circumstances, and it would not be
fair to "report" them. Besides, it might get into the "_Minerva_"--a
thing, which of course, would be most distasteful to both.
They sat, for a long time, planning for the future, and trying to
realize the present. It all seemed so natural, _now_. Their lives had
been running so long in the same current of views, feeling, hopes,
aspirations, that it seemed inevitable that the two streams should
become one. Roland was not afraid, however, to speak of Grace, whose
sweet memory, he said, he could never cease to cherish. His life would
be the better always, for his reverential affection for her and for the
uplifting effect of her death.
"And so," he said, after a long talk, "I shall keep up _The
Brotherhood_, of course. By and by it may have a real influence in the
country. I shall not go on with law, though I am glad to have learned
what I know; it will be so useful to me, hereafter. And a few of us are
planning starting a factory in Minton, on the coöperative plan, as an
experiment in that direction. I expect to be able to give a lecture, now
and then, and I hope, also to do something by writing, outside of _The
Brotherhood_. I have had an article accepted already by the _American
Review_.
"Oh, have you!" exclaimed Nora, delighted.
It was like Roland not to have said this till now.
"And I am to help Mr. Alden in his 'Good-fellows' Hall'--give them a
Sunday afternoon address, sometimes. Perhaps--I don't _know_--but, some
time, I might be even 'a preacher,' of Mr. Alden's sort. You would like
that, dear, I know." Nora did not speak, but the expression of her glad
eyes was enough.
"And how are Kitty and Mr. Waldberg?" asked Nora, by and by, with
natural fellow-feeling.
"Oh, as happy as turtle-doves!" said Roland. For lovers can always see
something amusing in the devotion of another pair of lovers, serious as
is their own. "Waldberg is already looking out for the cottage of the
future. He has steadied down, and forsworn speculation forever. Mr.
Dunlop left _him_ a legacy, too."
"And what of Harold Pomeroy? Has he found consolation yet?"
"I don't imagine he needed any. I don't know much of him. I met that
poor Nelly, the other day, very much overdressed. I don't think she
works in the mill, now."
"I wonder if he kept his promise to me," said Nora thoughtfully.
"Oh, some men's promises are poor things!" he replied. "By the way, I
haven't told you of Miss Pomeroy's engagement to Mr. Archer. It's just
been announced. I asked him if I might congratulate him, and he said, in
his usual way, he supposed I might if I liked,--it wouldn't do any
harm."
Nora laughed outright. But not then, nor for long after, did Roland know
all the reason for her amusement.
"And Wharton's gone for a trip to Europe," he continued. "People say
he's gone to look up Miss Harley; _he_ says it's to inquire into the
labor question over there. Whether she or Mr. Jeffrey converted him, I
don't know; but he has certainly changed his position very much."
"And have you seen Mr. Chillingworth lately?" asked Nora.
"Yes," he replied, "I see him, now and then. His manner is always
wonderfully kind, though I'm sure he can't have the pleasantest
associations with me."
"Oh," said Nora, "I think you are wrong, there! He told Aunt Margaret
that you had been of the greatest use to him, in helping him to realize,
once more, truths that seemed to be drifting from his grasp."
"I'm sure I don't know how!" said Roland, simply, "but I'm glad if it is
so. I hope poor little Cecilia will be happy with him. She will be a
wonderful comfort and interest to him, by and by."
"I think," said Nora, "that she really is getting to be a little fond of
him. She was a great deal with him, while he was here, and he is making
all sorts of plans for her education. Oh, I _hope_----"
Roland understood the thought which she did not express.
"I think," he said, quietly, "that she has enough of her father's
self-contained nature to help to keep other things in check. We must
hope for the best. But Mr. Chillingworth is certainly a greatly changed
man. I heard him preach lately, and there was such a new note in him,
less 'eloquence,' but much more of human sympathy! Well, we've all our
limitations; and I've learned to see that 'The mills of God grind
slowly, but they grind exceeding small!' I can see that I've been too
much in a hurry for results that _must_ take time to bring about."
"Yes; that's a mistake that we are all apt to make, in some way," said
Nora, with a sigh. "But some lines of Browning that I read, the other
day, were quite a comfort to me, in thinking of our mistakes. Let me
give them to you.
"'God's gift was that man should conceive of truth,
And yearn to gain it, catching at mistake,
As midway help till he reach fact indeed.'"
"If we ever do!" replied Roland, sighing, in his turn. "But, even if it
be only a 'midway help,' I can't help still hoping to see some reforms,
like the 'eight-hours movement' and some other restrictive measures,
carried out in my lifetime. The abolition of slavery looked much more
hopeless, a generation or two ago!"
"But even these won't bring perfection and happiness, alone," said Nora,
thoughtfully. "There must also be a higher moral ideal, and a higher
strength in which to attain it."
"Oh, yes, I've learned that lesson," he replied, quickly. "I know that
Law is not Love, nor the knowledge of right, alone, the power to reach
it. I know, too, that, as Mr. Alden so often says, there's only one
thing that can set this poor world really right, and that is, the growth
of the _brother-love_! And that must come from the Source of Love. Yet,
we must all help on, as far as we can. I take comfort in a thought I
found in my Thoreau--'The universe constantly and obediently answers to
our conceptions; whether we travel fast or slow, the track is laid for
us. Let us spend our lives in conceiving them. The poet or the artist
never yet had so fair and noble a design, but some of his posterity at
least could accomplish it.'"
"'_And still it moves!_'" quoted Nora, softly; and there was a long
silence, once more. And, in the quiet dusk of the August evening, the
whippoorwill piped on untiring; as the world, after all, is always
singing its old songs over again, if only our ears are not too dull or
too tired to hear them.
THE END.
RECENT CANADIAN LITERATURE
"THE YOUNG SEIGNEUR"
BY WILFRID CHATEAUCLAIR.
"'THE YOUNG SEIGNEUR' is more than clever--it is bold,
tantalizing, often witty, always original, and not without very
happy characterization.... It promises us a Canadian writer of
indisputable genius."--_Toronto Globe._
SONGS OF THE DOMINION
A VOL. OF REPRESENTATIVE CANADIAN POEMS.
Selected and Edited By W. D. LIGHTHALL.
_POCKET ATLAS AND GAZETTEER OF CANADA_.
Prepared By DR. JAS. HARPER.
Thoroughly accurate and arranged in convenient form for handy
reference.