Brought Back
'Far, far above thy thought
His wisdom shall appear,
When fully He this work hath wrought,
That caused thy needless fear!'
Three months later. Jasmine Cottage was full of lively voices and
laughter. Clare and Elfie were both at home, the former for a month's
holiday, and the latter till she left it to take up her quarters in the
Hall as bride and mistress. Alick was there, with no cloud upon his
brow, and full of eager anticipation of all that he was going to do
upon the estate in the future; and Agatha and Clare looked on at the
young couple with interest and sympathy. They were gathered together
in the verandah, and Gwen only was absent. Alick presently asked for
her.
'She has gone to London to her publishers. You will be interested to
know, Alick, that it is about your father's manuscripts. Gwen has
finished them at last, and it is to consult about bringing them out,
that she has gone. We expect her back every moment.'
Agatha looked along the road as she spoke, and Alick's eyes followed
her gaze.
'Here she comes; I know her walk!' he exclaimed. 'Rapid, defiant, and
indifferent to all around!'
'You shall not talk of her like that,' remonstrated Elfie, 'and it
isn't true of her.'
'I admire her awfully, only I'm just a little bit afraid of her.'
'I don't believe you're afraid of any one!'
Here Gwen appeared on the scene. She seemed flushed and rather
perturbed.
'Have I got my business done satisfactorily? Yes, I hope I have.
Agatha, I am famishing; have you got anything for me to eat? That's
right. I will go straight into the dining-room now.'
Agatha followed her in.
'You look tired out. Sit down, and I will pour you out a cup of
coffee. I expected you back earlier.'
'I was detained.'
For a few minutes there was silence. Then Gwen leant back in her chair
and regarded Agatha with serious eyes.
'You're a safe old thing. I think I can trust you,' she said. 'First
of all tell me, do you think Clare happy now?'
'I have never known her so happy in her life before,' said Agatha,
wondering at Gwen's tone. 'Of course, I know she has her sad times,
but she is far sweeter and even-tempered than she used to be. Miss
Villars was telling me the other day, she has found her niche exactly.
All the visitors at the Convalescent Home are loud in their praise
other, and I really think her heart is in it.'
'Then it would be a pity to disturb her.'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, the fact is, I heard in town to-day rumours about Hugh turning
up at some mission station in Africa. People say he was never killed
after all. I went to the Foreign Office about it. They know for
certain it is some English officer, but cannot be sure it is Hugh.'
'Oh, Gwen!'
Agatha seemed too dazed by the news to say more at first.
'We must keep it to ourselves for the present. It would be dreadful
for her if it proved a false report,' continued Gwen; 'and really, she
seems so resigned now, that one dreads the effect of such news upon
her. Do you think she ever really cared for him? I have my doubts. I
remember how restless, and discontented she used to be when he was
alive; and look at the change in her now!'
'Yes,' said Agatha quietly; 'but the change is not due to his death,
Gwen. Clare has found out for herself the truth of Nannie's verse for
her. She was always restless until she came to the Rest-giver, and now
she is at peace. Circumstances do not sway her as they used to do.'
'Well,' said Gwen, after a slight pause, 'I hope it may be true, if she
really loves him. It is like a story-book, the long-lost lover come to
life again! Don't say a word to any one. They have promised to send
us the first information they receive.'
For the next few days both Agatha and Gwen appeared to the others very
restless and pre-occupied; but as a week or two passed away without
further tidings, they tried to banish it from their thoughts, and in a
measure succeeded.
Gwen was delighted at the prospects of her book coming out, and hoped
to realize a good sum from it, more than she at one time could have
thought possible to be earned by her pen. And when, a little later,
she received the first instalment of it, she sent a cheque straight out
to Meta Seton.
'I feel convinced,' she confided to Agatha, 'that she still cares for
Walter; and it is only her father that has insisted upon her breaking
it off. I should be so thankful if they came together again. In
Walter's last letter he mentions having met her, and I think that they
may have arrived at a secret understanding with one another; he writes
in much better spirits.'
'If she is a wife worth having, she would never desert him for his
poverty,' said Agatha.
Gwen shook her head and sighed, for she knew the world better than
simple-minded Agatha did. But her writing took her mind off the
startling news she had heard, and Agatha was equally engrossed in
preparing Elfie's trousseau, so that though they were always on the
watch for any news in the papers, they did not mention the subject to
one another, and it was a distinct shock to Agatha to receive a
telegram one morning.
'Captain Hugh Knox alive. Coming home. Break it to his friends.'
Clare was doing some work for Elfie when the telegram arrived. Agatha
hastily consulted Gwen in the study, and then came into the
dining-room, where the two younger girls were sitting.
'Who is the telegram from?' asked Elfie quickly. 'We have so few here
that Clare and I are quite curious about it.'
Agatha sat down, and her hands trembled as she unfolded and refolded
the yellow envelope in her grasp.
'It contains very strange news,' she said slowly 'wonderfully strange,
and I don't quite know how to tell it to you.'
Both Clare and Elfie dropped their work instantly, for they saw her
agitation.
'Not bad news?' exclaimed Clare.
'No; very, very good news for you, Clare.'
Clare's cheeks grew pale at once.
'Oh, Agatha, speak out; don't keep us in suspense any longer!'
And then Agatha said as quietly as she could:
'It is about Hugh, Clare. Can you bear it? He was never killed, after
all, and this is to say that he is coming home.'
Clare did not faint, nor call out, nor did she utter a word. Only the
quick blood rushing to her cheeks, and then as quickly ebbing from
them, showed that she was moved at all. Motionless she sat, staring
out of the window as if she were in a dream. Then at last she spoke.
'Oh, Agatha, I shall never forgive you if it is not true!'
The vehement intensity of her tone drew Agatha to her side at once.
Stooping over her she kissed her. 'My darling Clare, it is true.
Thank God with all your heart that it is so!'
And then in a few minutes a burst of tears relieved the overcharged
brain, and Clare fled to her room, there to thank on her knees for such
unlooked-for joy.
The days that followed were trying ones, but Clare bore them well. She
went to see her lover's family, and it was there in the Yorkshire home
that she met the long-lost one again.
Captain Knox seemed but a shadow of his former self. Fever and
privations had told upon him, and Clare shuddered when she heard his
story. For many months he had been kept captive amongst the native
tribe that had taken him and his comrades by surprise in the bush. He
was subject to much cruelty and many indignities, but at last managed
to make his escape, and for some months lived in the thick forests,
striving to find his way back to civilization. At last he was found by
a missionary, almost at the point of death, and tenderly nursed back to
health and strength at a small mission station. It was some time,
however, before he could send tidings of his escape, and long before he
was well enough to be brought down to the coast. He had much to tell
to Clare, and also much to hear.
'I cannot believe it is really you,' she said to him, when alone with
him one day; 'I keep wondering if I shall wake up and find it all a
dream.'
'You had become accustomed to live without me, had you?' he said,
smiling. 'Would you rather I had not come back to disturb your life
again? You seem to be so happy in your present work.'
'Oh, Hugh, if you only knew what I have gone through, you would not
talk so! I don't think you have been out of my thoughts for a single
day. God has helped me to bear your loss, but I never knew how your
life was woven into mine, till the awful news came that I had lost you!'
'We will not think about it,' said Captain Knox, with deep feeling.
'We have been brought together again, thank God, and I believe we are
both the better for what we have suffered. It is wonderful to see the
way that we are led, and the goodness and love that brings sweet out of
bitter, and blessing out of evil.'
'And,' said Clare softly, as she leaned her head against his shoulder,
and felt the support of his strong arm round her, 'we have both been
drawn inside the kingdom, Hugh. That is the best of all. We will
serve our Master together, and not death itself can separate us now.'
One more scene before we leave the four sisters. Nannie is the
conspicuous figure in it. She has been brought to Jasmine Cottage, and
it is the eve of Elfie's marriage. The girls were gathered round her
in the cosy bedroom that had been prepared for her, and they were full
of mirth and happiness.
Gwen had been astonishing them by a piece of news that she had been
keeping to herself for a long time, and this was that she had at last
listened to Clement Arkwright, and was engaged to him.
'They say that if one wedding comes off in a family, others are sure to
follow,' she said, by way of excusing herself; 'and he has been
bothering my life out lately. I never seem to go up to town without
tumbling across him somewhere. I think I have no spirit left to resist
him as I used to do. But one thing I have told him, and that is that
he will have to wait till I have cleared off more of my debts.'
'You have no debts,' said Agatha; 'it is nonsense to talk like that.'
'I shall never lift up my head and breathe freely till I have at any
rate returned Walter his money,' said Gwen very emphatically.
'Ay, my dear,' put in Nannie affectionately; 'we'd rather your head
weren't lifted just yet. 'Tis apt to rear itself a little too high,
and 'tis the bowed head that gets the blessing of the Lord.'
'Nannie,' said Elfie impulsively, 'say our verses to us again, will
you? Do you remember when you gave them to us? Put your hands on our
heads as you used to do when we were little children, and we will
receive them again as your blessing.'
And this Nannie did; and as she repeated the beautiful words, each
sister confessed in the depths of her heart what a blessing they had
been to her.
'Trust in the Lord and do good, so shalt thou dwell in the land, and
verily thou shalt be fed.'
'Delight thyself also in the Lord, and He shall give thee the desires
of thine heart.'
'Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it
to pass.'
'Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him. . . . Those that wait
upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth.'
'And,' said Agatha, 'the key-note to that Psalm is, "Fret not." We
thought it a terrible blow when Cousin James defrauded us of our
rights; but how wonderfully we have been cared for since!'
'Even when I did my best to ruin the whole lot of you,' put in Gwen.
And then Nannie repeated the last verse of her favourite Psalm:
'And the Lord shall help them and deliver them: He shall deliver them
from the wicked, and save them because they trust in Him.'
FINIS.