A WONDERFUL LEGACY
FAITH did get better, very slowly. And it was a happy day for Charity
and Hope when they were able to go over from the Hall and see her
sitting up and taking notice of everybody once again. She looked very
small and white, and spoke languidly, as if it were too much trouble to
get her words out, but she listened to her sisters' account of their
days at the Hall with much interest.
"I ride on a pony every afternoon," said Hope with pride. "Tommy is
much faster than Topsy. I go for rides with Sir George, and yesterday
we rode into town, and I saw Mrs. Vale sitting in her window, and she
nodded to me!"
"And I drove out with Lady Melville," said Charity, "and we went to tea
with some friends of hers, and they said the war would soon be over,
perhaps by Christmas."
Faith smiled, but made no comment on these bits of news; then she asked:
"Have you seen Timothy?"
"Not lately," answered Charity.
"I should like to see him," said Faith slowly.
Aunt Alice was in the room and heard her wish.
"Then you shall see him, darling. Charity, you can call at his cottage
on your way home. Ask him to come the first day he can."
So Charity and Hope called at the little cottage.
The woods were just now in their autumn colours. Blackberries were
fast getting ripe, and nuts lay ready on the ground to pick up. They
lingered by the way to enjoy it all, and then they found Timothy
outside, getting an armful of firewood. Sandy bounded forward to meet
them.
When Hope patted his head and spoke to him, he whined a little and
moved away.
"He's disappointed 'tisn't Miss Faith," said Timothy; "how is the
little dear?"
"She wants to see you," said Charity; "will you go and see her as soon
as you can? Aunt Alice told us to ask you."
"Ay, surely I will. Bless her little heart, there's not a day but I
wonders how she is. I've missed her sorely. And I'm not the only one."
"No," said Hope with an understanding nod; "it is everybody that misses
Faith. We wonder why, because we thought her rather quiet and dull
sometimes, but we don't now. We know how we miss her, but we don't
quite understand why the village people talk about her so."
"'Tis just her little winning way and her big heart," said Timothy;
"and then when she talks to folk, she has always something big to talk
about."
"How do you mean?" asked Charity.
Old Timothy rubbed his head slowly. It was a way he had when he was
thinking.
"I was reading in the Book t'other day," he said, "and it made me think
how the little maid be as good as her name. Do you remember the gran'
chapter of the heroes who lived by faith? 'Tis said amongst the list of
their noble doin's, that 'through faith they obtained promises,' and
'out of weakness were made strong.' Now, through Miss Faith talkin'
I know more than one body hereabout who have obtained most precious
promises and have been made strong!"
Charity and Hope were silent. They wished the old man good-bye and went
on to the Hall.
"I don't understand Timothy," said Hope at last, "he talks as if Faith
preaches to people."
"No, she just talks," said Charity, "but I suppose she talks about the
Things we don't talk about, and it does people good."
Hope said nothing more, but the little girls found themselves repeating
to Lady Melville what the old man had said.
"Children are rather prigs when they talk goody," said Charity—"at
least, we think they are; but Timothy seemed to say that Faith had been
doing great things just like the Bible people."
"I don't think little Faith is at all a prig," said Lady Melville
gently; "you know if we are very full of anything we can't help talking
about it. It bubbles up at once like a little spring in the ground
which gets over full when a storm of rain comes. Faith has a great
realisation of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, and because she believes
He makes every sad person happy, she talks to everybody who is sad,
about Him. She can't help doing it. Dear little Faith! Why, even when
she talks to me, I feel myself stronger in my faith when she goes away!"
The little girls were silent for a moment. Then Charity said:
"I suppose she practises her name. Granny often tells us we ought to
make our names good. When I grow up and get rich, I shall give a lot of
money away in charity; then I shall be acting out my name, shan't I?"
Lady Melville smiled.
"It is rather strange, but in the chapter in the Bible which tells
about your name it says that you can give all your goods to feed the
poor, and yet have no charity. You may do it to get praise from God,
or from men, and not because you love them. We have false ideas of
charity. It means love. You can love God, and everybody, if you are
quite poor, and so be acting out your name now."
Charity thought over this.
"It says Charity is better than Hope or Faith," said Hope; "I wonder
why. Charity often reminds me and Faith of that."
Charity hung her head.
"Well," said Lady Melville cheerfully, "I often tell you that you have
all three beautiful names which ought to inspire you. Faith acts out
hers without knowing it. If I were Charity, I should always try to be
kind and loving to all, and not to think about myself at all, only of
pleasing others. And if I were Hope, I should try to fill my mind with
all the beautiful things we are told to hope for."
"I think my name is most difficult of all," said Hope, "because
everything you hope for is always on in front of you; you never seem to
catch it up!"
"Well," said Lady Melville smiling, "if we have got a sure hope of
everything beautiful and happy coming to us in the future, we shan't
mind about present troubles, and we shall be very happy people. You
told me the other day that when Dr. Evans said there was hope of
Faith's getting well again, you were so happy that nothing else seemed
to matter. That is how we should all live. Nothing matters very much in
this world because we have such beautiful, wonderful hopes about the
next."
The little girls said no more, but they remembered Lady Melville's talk
about their names, and it did them good.
They were very happy at the Hall, and very soon the day came when
Granny said she could have them back at the cottage again. Faith was an
invalid still. She seemed to be a long time in getting back her health
and strength, but she was able to play with her dolls again, and go out
for little walks; and she was bright and cheerful, and able now to talk
nearly as fast as Charity and Hope.
Her birthday was the beginning of November. The children had a holiday.
Charity and Hope went into town to buy her a birthday present. Their
Aunt Alice was with them, and they had quite an exciting afternoon, for
Aunt Alice took them to tea at the pastry-cook's, and the shops were
very gay with preparations for Christmas. To add to their joy, they
met Charlie and his mother, and Charlie was full of business. He had
come into town to buy Faith a birthday present, and he took Charity
and Hope off to a toyshop, whilst Mrs. Evans and Aunt Alice went into
uninteresting shops, such as the grocer's and the linen-draper's.
"You see, I must get her something nice, because I made her ill," said
Charlie; "at least, that is what father and mother say, but of course I
didn't mean to. And what do you think I am going to buy her?"
The little girls could not guess.
"A box of fretwork tools. I had one once on my birthday, but my tools
are broken and lost. It will be just the thing for Faith, for she can
make things indoors, and I will come over and help her."
"That will be lovely," said Charity enthusiastically, "Hope and I are
going to put our money together to make it more. We haven't very much
only two shillings and fourpence."
They roamed round the toyshop. First they thought of a watering-can,
but then they remembered that winter was coming and the flowers were
over, so that Faith would not be able to use it for a long time. Then
Hope suggested a paint box, but Faith was not so fond of painting as
Charity was, so that was given up.
At last they saw a very cheap set of doll's tea things for
half-a-crown. Aunt Alice, good-naturedly, had told them she would make
their money up to 2s. 6d., so they got it.
"The cups will be quite big enough for us to drink out of," said Hope;
"we can use them when we have feasts."
So the tea-set was bought. Granny's present for Faith was a little
blue-knitted jacket to keep her warm when she went out. Granny had made
it all herself. And Aunt Alice had bought her a little brown muff.
There was great excitement when they got home that evening. Faith went
to bed very early now; and after she was out of the way, the presents
were all wrapped up in paper, and little tickets attached with the
names of donors.
Somehow this birthday of Faith's seemed to be an extra important day.
They could not help remembering how very nearly they had lost her.
And then Aunt Alice told Charity and Hope a secret, which was that
old Mr. Cardwell had left a present for Faith which he had told his
son to give her on her next birthday. The "Pirate" had left this with
Aunt Alice before he went away, and Aunt Alice produced it now. It
looked like a box, but Aunt Alice said she believed it was the old
man's cabinet of coins which he had once showed to Faith. It was all
carefully wrapped up in brown paper.
The next morning Charity and Hope were up early. Faith still had
her breakfast in bed, but they were allowed to take their presents
in before. As Faith sat up in bed unwrapping all her parcels, her
little fingers trembled with excitement. There were cries of ecstasy
over every one of the gifts. Faith was always easy to please. The
tea-set was what she had always longed for, Granny's jacket was almost
too grand to wear, and the muff was a luxury she had never before
experienced. Charlie's box of fretwork was most entrancing; she longed
to begin testing the tools at once; and then old Mr. Cardwell's present
was slowly opened, with flushed cheeks, and shining eyes.
"Oh! Oh! It's his beautiful cabinet with all the old, old money in it!
Look at the tiny drawers, and all the coins in different parts!"
Faith clasped her hands and almost cried.
"It seems as if he is alive," she said. "Oh! I wish he was! I wish he
was!"
Charity and Hope were both as interested as she was in peeping into
all the little drawers, and seeing all the varieties of ancient coin.
Then in the bottom drawer Faith found a sealed envelope with her name
written upon it. She looked at it with awe, for it was addressed by old
Mr. Cardwell himself.
And then the next moment Aunt Alice was summoned to the room by the
excited screams of the children.
"Granny! Aunt Alice! Quick! Faith has got one hundred pounds!"
It was true. The cheque in Faith's shaking hands was for one hundred
pounds to be paid to Miss Faith Blair, and the little note was as
follows:
"MY DEAR LITTLE MISS MOTH,
"I shall be gone away from you when you receive this, for I do not
mean you to have it till after my death; and you will not get it until
your birthday. It is in remembrance of a grateful old man, and, knowing
your careful little soul, I want you to spend this money whilst you
are young, in the best way that you can. Don't hoard it. Spend it on
yourself and on others. There are no conditions attached to it. I
humbly hope that you and I may one day meet each other again in that
Land where you tell me everyone is welcome.
"Your old friend,
"W. CARDWELL."
Aunt Alice seemed stricken dumb, but she read the letter through, and
passed it to Granny, who began to wipe her spectacles when she had
finished it.
"Is it true?" asked Faith. "Can it be true that I've got a hundred
pounds?"
"Yes, dear, it is. I'm sure I had no idea that such a present was in
store for you."
Then Aunt Alice began to fold up the pieces of stray paper scattered
over the bed.
"We must talk about it after breakfast," she said; "come along,
children."
Charity and Hope went to their breakfast; but their talk was full of
this wonderful gift.
"Why," said Charity, "Faith could buy a cottage of her own, couldn't
she, with a hundred pounds?"
Aunt Alice laughed.
"Oh, no," cried Hope; "she wouldn't want anything uninteresting like
that. She could buy a pony, and a saddle, and build a beautiful little
stable for him all her own."
Granny began to smile now.
"We know that Charity would like a cottage, and Hope a pony, but what
about Faith herself?"
"Oh, Faith never wants much," said Charity, "she's so easily pleased."
"And that is why old Mr. Cardwell could trust her with such a lot of
money," said Aunt Alice, "he knew she wouldn't want to buy useless
luxuries."
After breakfast, Faith was dressed, and brought downstairs. There was a
bright fire in the cheerful living room where they generally sat, and
before very long, Charlie arrived to give his best wishes for Faith's
birthday, and to examine with her the contents of the fretwork box. He
was much impressed when he heard the news.
"Why, you could buy a motor," he said; "that's what I should do."
But Faith's ambition did not lie in that direction.
"We have Topsy, and Granny's carriage, that's much nicer than a motor,"
she said.
"Well, what are you going to do with it?" he asked.
Faith looked dreamily into the fire. She was sitting in the old
armchair, and a round table was pushed up to her side.
"I haven't got to settle to-day," she said. "I don't want to spend it
all on one thing, I want to get lots of things."
"Make out a list, Faith," urged Charity. "Do it now."
But Faith would not be hurried. And Charlie was so anxious to start her
cutting out patterns on wood with her fretwork saw, that she soon gave
her whole attention to that. Charlie went home after lunch, but he was
invited to come to tea, for there was a birthday cake, and Faith was
going to pour out tea. Outside, it was wet and stormy, but the children
were perfectly happy indoors that day, and Charity and Hope wrote down
long lists of things that they would like Faith to buy with her money.
She was very tired when the exciting birthday was over; and when she
was being tucked up into bed by her aunt, she said a little sadly:
"How can I thank Mr. Cardwell, Aunt Alice? It seems so dreadful not to
take any notice, and not to thank him."
"It is what people call a legacy, dear. Only it was left to you in such
a strange way. Nobody can thank for legacies, as they are left to them
after the giver dies."
Faith lay still for a moment, then she said softly:
"Do you think that I might pray to God and ask Him if He would thank
him for me. Would it be reverent to ask God to do that?"
"Yes, dear, I think you could pray about it."
So Faith waited till her aunt had left the room, and then she folded
her hands and prayed in a whisper:
"Please, God, will you be so kind as to thank Mr. Cardwell for me,
and will you tell him what a happy birthday I have had, and what an
astonishing surprise it was to get that cabinet, and how I can hardly
believe I have a hundred pounds all my own. I do thank him very, very
much, and I thank you for letting me have it. Amen."
Downstairs Aunt Alice was saying to Granny:
"I hope it won't turn the child's head. Of course, it is much too big a
sum to be handled by her. What should you advise, mother?"
"We must persuade her to put it into the bank for the present, and only
draw a little at a time. He was a strange old man."
"Fred had no idea that it was anything beyond a cabinet. I must write
to him about it, for of course this cheque can't be honoured."
Granny looked grave.
"I suppose not. The child may have trouble in getting the money."
"Oh, Fred is all right."
Granny smiled wisely, but said no more.
Charity and Hope were both dreaming of lovely palaces, and dogs and
horses, and golden sovereigns, rolling down the streets.
But Faith slept deeply, and hardly dreamt at all. She only seemed when
she woke in the morning to have been talking with her old friend once
more. And their talk was not about the money at all. It was about the
Comforter.