“Wealth heaped on wealth, nor truth nor safety buys;
The dangers gather as the treasures rise.”
――DR. JOHNSON.
Dr. Landreth had an errand down-town. Mildred stood at the window
looking after him with loving, admiring eyes. He turned at the gate to
lift his hat and kiss his hand to her with a bow and smile, then sped
on his way, she watching until his manly form had disappeared in the
distance and the gathering darkness; for evening was closing in.
But even now she did not turn from the window, but still stood there,
gazing into vacancy, her thoughts full of the strange revelation and
surprising gift he had made to her within the last hour.
She would go presently to mother and sisters with the pleasant news,
but first she must have a little time alone with her best Friend, to
pour out her gratitude to Him and seek strength for the new duties and
responsibilities now laid upon her, the new dangers and temptations
likely to beset her path.
A few moments had been passed thus when her mother’s gentle rap was
heard at the door of her room. Mildred hastened to open it and to
unfold her wondrous tale, sure of entire, loving sympathy in all the
contending feelings which agitated her.
She was not disappointed; but while Mrs. Keith fully understood and
appreciated Mildred’s fear of the peculiar temptations of wealth, she
took a more hopeful view.
“Dear daughter,” she said, “trust in Him who has promised, ‘As thy
days so shall thy strength be,’ and take with joy this good gift He
has sent you. Keep close to Him and you will be safe, for ‘He giveth
more grace.’”
There was great and unqualified rejoicing among the younger members of
the family when they learned the news――“they were so glad that hard
times were over for dear Milly, who had always been so helpful and
kind to everybody;” and so thoroughly did they believe in her goodness
that they had no fear for her such as she felt for herself.
“Milly, what _are_ you going to do with so much money?” asked Annis,
hanging about her sister’s chair; “you can never spend it all.”
“Spend it!” cried Don contemptuously. “Only silly people think money
was made just to spend. Wise ones save it up for time of need.”
“The truly wise don’t hoard all they have, Don,” remarked Ada gravely.
“No; of course they must live, and they’ll pay their way honestly if
they are the right sort of folks.”
“And if they are that,” said Mildred, with a sweet, bright smile
irradiating her features, “they will feel that the money God gives
them is not wholly their own, to save and to spend.”
“Oh no, to be sure! and what a nice big tenth you’ll have to give now,
Milly,” exclaimed Annis. “I wish you’d find some work for me to do and
pay me for it, so that I’d have more money to give to missions.”
“I’ll pay you ten cents for every hour you spend at the piano in
faithful practice,” was Mildred’s answer, as she playfully drew her
little pet sister to a seat upon her knee.
“O Milly! will you really?” cried the child, clapping her hands in
delight; “but that will be twenty cents a day when I practise two
hours, and I mean to, every day but Sunday.”
“And I make Fan the same offer,” Mildred said, catching a half
wistful, half eager glance from the great gray eyes of that quiet,
demure little maiden.
The gray eyes sparkled and danced, their owner saying, “O Milly, thank
you ever so much! I’ll be sure to earn twenty or thirty cents every
day.”
“Forty or fifty cents a day for you to pay, Milly!” Annis said in some
anxiety.
“Don’t be concerned, little sister, my purse can stand even so
grievous a drain as that,” returned Mildred gayly.
“Mildred,” said Ada, sighing slightly, “I can hardly help envying you
the blessing of having so much money to do good with.”
“Perhaps your turn will come; at your age I had no more prospect of it
than you have now,” Mildred said, gently putting Annis aside and
rising to leave the room; for she heard her husband’s step in the
hall, and it was her wont to hasten to meet him with a welcoming
smile. But pausing a moment at Ada’s side, “It is a great
responsibility,” she added in an earnest undertone; “you must help me
with your prayers and sisterly warnings, to meet it aright.”
A liberal gift to each benevolent enterprise of the church to which
she belonged was the first use Mildred made of her newly acquired
wealth. Next her thoughts busied themselves with plans to increase the
comfort and happiness of her own dear ones; after that of friends and
neighbors.
There were some of these who might not be approached as objects of
charity, yet whose means were so small as to afford them little beyond
the bare necessaries of life. Meantime her husband was thinking of her
and how he might add to her comfort and pleasure.
It was now early in November, but the woods had not lost all their
autumnal beauty, and the weather was unusually mild for the time of
year. They had had many delightful walks and drives together.
Now Dr. Landreth proposed a trip to Chicago, and Mildred gave a joyful
assent. There would be ten miles of staging, then three or four hours
of railway travel, making a journey just long enough for a pleasure
trip, they thought; and a short sojourn in the city would be an
agreeable variety to Mildred at least, she having been scarcely
outside of Pleasant Plains for the last six or eight years.
With a heart full of quiet happiness and overflowing with gratitude to
the Giver of all good, she set about the needful preparation. No great
amount of it was needed, as they were only going sightseeing and
shopping; it could all be done in one day, and they would start early
the next morning.
Alone in her own room, packing her trunk, her thoughts reverted to a
friend, a most estimable widow lady, a member of the same church with
herself, who was enduring a great fight with adversity, having an aged
mother and several small children to support.
“They must be in need,” Mildred said half aloud to herself, pausing in
her work. “How nice it would be to give them a little help without
their knowing whence it came! Yes, I shall do it.”
She rose from her kneeling posture beside her trunk, went to her
writing-desk, enclosed a ten-dollar bill in a blank sheet of paper,
and that in an envelope which she sealed and directed to Mrs. Mary
Selby, the lady in question.
She wrote the address in a disguised hand, and following Rupert to the
outer door that evening as he was starting down-town after tea, asked
him to drop that note into the post-office for her as he passed.
He readily complied, and her secret was between the Master and
herself, as she desired it to be.
The little jaunt was an entire success, and the happy bride and groom
returned from it loaded with presents for the dear ones at home. There
was an easy-chair for father, a handsome set of furs for mother,
napery for Zillah, a silk dress for Ada, a fine soft merino for each
of the younger girls; beside books and a variety of smaller gifts for
all, even Celestia Ann having been kindly and generously remembered.
It was a glad home-coming, a merry, happy time to all the family. And
Mildred was younger, prettier, gayer in appearance and manner than
they had seen her for years.