THE POWER OF CONSCIENCE.
"Being convicted by their own conscience."
The day on which Reginald Gower met Dr. Heinz on the street, and sent
through him a farewell message to Gertrude Warden, found him a couple of
hours afterwards seated in his mother's boudoir, communicating to her
his suddenly-formed plan of starting in a few days for America.
It was no easy thing to do. The bond between mother and son was a very
strong one, and her pleasure in having had him with her for some little
time had been great. Her look of pleasure when he entered the room made
it more difficult for him to break the news to her.
"Earlier back to-day than usual, Reggie," she said, "but never too early
for your old mother. But is anything amiss?" she said in a voice of
alarm, as she noticed the grave look on his face. "Have you heard any
bad news, or are you ill?"
"No, mother, it is neither of these things--there is nothing the matter;
only I fear, mother dear, that what I am going to say will vex you, but
you must not let it do so. I am not worth all the affection you lavish
on me. Mother, I have made up my mind to go to America, and to remain
there for some time. I cannot stop here any longer. I am tired--not of
my dear mother," he said, as he stooped over her and kissed her fondly,
"but of the idle life I lead here; and so I mean to go and try and get
work there, perhaps buy land if I can afford it, and see if I can make
anything of my life as a farmer. Nay, mother, do not look so sad," he
pleaded; "you do not know how hard it is for me to come to this
resolution, but I must go. I cannot continue to live on future prospects
of wealth that may--nay, perhaps ought never to be mine, but must act
the man--try and earn my own living."
"Your own living, Reginald!" interposed his mother; "surely you have
enough of your own to live comfortably on even as a married man, and
your prospects of succeeding to Harcourt Manor are, I grieve to say for
one reason, almost certain. O Reginald, don't go and leave me so soon
again!"
But the young man, usually so easily led, fatally so indeed, stood firm
now, and only answered, "Mother, it must be, and if you knew all you
would be the first to advise me to go. Mother, you will soon hear that
Gertie Warden is engaged to be married to a man worthy of her--a noble
Christian doctor of the name of Heinz; but don't think that that
circumstance is the reason of my leaving home. Fool though I have been
and still am, I was never fool enough to think I was worthy of gaining
the love of a high-principled girl like Gertie Warden. But, mother, your
unselfish, God-fearing life, and that of Gertie and Dr. Heinz, have led
me to see my own character as I never saw it before, and to wish to put
right what has been so long wrong, and which it seems to me I can do
best if I were away from home. Ask me no more, mother dear; some day I
will tell you all, but not now. Only, mother, I must tell you that the
words of the Bible which you love so well and have so early taught to me
have not been without their effect, at least in keeping my conscience
awake. And, mother, don't cease to pray for me that I may be helped to
do the right. Oh, do not, do not," he entreated, as his mother began to
urge him to remain, "say that, mother; say rather, 'God bless you,' and
let me go. Believe me, it is best for me to do so."
At these words Mrs. Gower ceased speaking. If, indeed, her loved son was
striving to do the right thing, would she be the one to hold him back?
Ah no! she would surrender her will and trust him in the hands of her
faithful God. So with one glance upward for help and strength, she laid
her hand on his head and said, "Go then, my son, in peace; and may God
direct your way and help you to do the right thing, and may He watch
between us when we are separate the one from the other."
Just as Reginald was leaving the room Miss Drechsler entered. She
greeted Mrs. Gower cordially, remembering her in old times; and she
recognized Reginald as the young man who had spoken to Frida the day
after the concert, though then she had not heard his name.
As Reginald was saying good-bye, he heard his mother ask Miss Drechsler
where her friend the young violinist was. "I thought you would have
brought her to see me," she added. Her answer struck Reginald with
dismay.
"Oh! she did not accompany me to London after all. A great friend of
hers was ill, and she had to go to her instead. It was a great
disappointment to me."
Reginald went to his room feeling as if in a dream. Then it might never
come to pass, after all, that Frida's parentage would be found out; and
Satan suggested the thought that therefore he need not disclose all he
knew, but let things go on as they were.
He hugged the idea, for not yet had he got the victory over evil; at all
events he thought he would still wait a bit, but he would certainly
carry out his intention of leaving the country for a while at least; and
two days after the time we write of, his mother sat in her own room with
a full heart after having parted from her only son. Well for her that
she knew the way to the mercy-seat, and could pour out her sorrow at the
feet of One who has said, "Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I
will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me."