CHAPTER IX.
MOTHER GERTRUDE ALSO GIVES GOOD ADVICE.
The cold, dismal December days had come. It was always long after darknow, before Veronica got home; but she never had to hurry, for fear ofgoing through the wood alone, for there stood Blasi always ready at theturf hut on the edge of Fohrensee, just where the houses ceased and itbegan to be lonely. If it was fine, he was walking up and down before thehut; if it stormed, he was standing under the shelter of the roof. He wasnever absent and he never came too late. Yet he was busy all day long,and had to run half the way to get to the hut in time. His master did notlet him off one moment before the appointed day's work was over, Blasi'sapplication to learn the saddler's trade had been favorably received byGertrude and he had set to work at once. Now that he worked from morningtill night he never had time to put his hands in his pockets, and thesaddler kept him up to the mark, proud of showing how well he himselfunderstood the business. Blasi was contented, and more than contented withhis life; he had a new and very happy consciousness of being of use, andhe had risen in his own estimation. He felt like a man of property, almostlike a gentleman. By the time he had finished his day's work, and hurrieddown to Fohrensee and walked back again, he was so tired that he wasready to go to bed directly; he had no time nor desire to loaf. And so itcame about that when Veronica wished to give him his piece of money everyevening he objected; for he said he did not want to be paid; he preferredto have his services accepted on the ground of friendship. Veronicaconsented to accept them on that ground, but from time to time she wouldsay, "Blasi, this is your birthday," or "To-day is the cherry-festival, Ishould like to make you a little present," or "I have had extra workto-day, and I should like to give you part of the extra pay, for if youhad not been coming for me, I could not have waited to do it, so it isfairly yours;" and each time she pressed into his hand such a large pieceof money that he soon had a considerable sum laid away. Then one day shegave him a silk handkerchief; and another day half-a-dozen new shirts,white as snow; and then again a package of handkerchiefs hemmed and readyfor use; and all this increase of property raised his standard of living,and excited his ambition.
The night before Christmas, Veronica was late in coming home. It was darkand stormy. She had been delayed at the school, making preparations forleaving everything in order for the holiday.
When she came into the sitting-room she found her mother at work bylamp-light, mending a ragged old mail-bag. Advancing years had told uponGertrude; and although industrious as ever, she could not work as easilyas she once did.
"Oh mother, I cannot let you do that heavy piece of work," said Veronica,as soon as she saw what her mother was about. "Didn't I tell you that Iwould come home in time to dress the house for Christmas, and now you havenot only done all that, but you are at work on that old mail-bag. I can'tbear to have you do so. Why won't you let me do something for you, andtake a little rest yourself. You look so tired."
"You need the evening to rest in too, dear child, after working steadilyall day," said Gertrude affectionately. "And I am very glad when there isa piece of work like this that I can do. I want him to find everything asit used to be, when he comes home. I think that with care and industry Ican manage so that I shall not be obliged to give up this house while heis away. I am sure it will be a great comfort to him to find that he stillhas his home. And besides I feel that it will help him to begin life anew,and bring him back to his old right-minded way of thinking. Oh, if hewould only come home!"
"Mother, mother, that is no reason why you should work beyond yourstrength. You have taken care of me all these long years, and now it isfairly my turn to take care of you. Do not worry about the house, dear; Ihave made an arrangement with the cattle-dealer. When you told me that hethreatened to take it, I went to him and got him to let me settle with himinstead. He was very glad that I wanted it, for he said that he didn'tsee what good it would be to him, and he gave me my time about paying forit."
"Is that true, Veronica?" said Gertrude, and a happy smile stole over herface. "You do not know what a load you have taken from my heart! Oh, youare good and brave! If I could only see you look happy, how glad I shouldbe! If I could find out how to make you happy! I would do anything in theworld for you, if I only knew how!"
"There is no use in thinking about it, mother dear. Happiness is not forme. It may be for others, but not for me." Veronica spoke with strongemotion. "I have worked and struggled for it ever since I can rememberanything, but all in vain. Cousin Judith told me that work was the way tofortune, and that 'fortune' meant whatever one wanted most; and so Iworked, always, even when I did not know what it was that I wanted most.Afterwards when I learned that for me happiness was the best fortune, Iworked on, for I wanted to be happy, but I was not. I always brooded overmy work, thinking of all the unpleasant and troublesome things that hadhappened. Then Sabina told me how, when she was terribly unhappy about herdeformity, she had found relief in books, in reading," and Veronica wenton to tell how Sabina had sent her delightful books and how she had triedto drive away her own sorrow by the new interests which she found in them."But you see," she added with a sigh, "it did not help me; nothing helpsme. When I read, I was still unhappy. What difference did it make to me,all that was written in the books; it did not make my troubles less. Theold thoughts came right in and left me no peace. Even while I was readingI could not fix my mind on the book, and when I laid the book down, I hadgained nothing, but was as sad and hopeless as ever. Happiness is not forme, and the little motto upon my rose may be true for others; it is nottrue for me. I cannot 'grasp' the only 'fortune' I care for."
Veronica spoke passionately; with a vehemence that Gertrude had neverbefore heard from her. Her strong, self-controlled nature had never beforegiven way and found expression in words. Now the flood-gates were opened,the stream broke through. Gertrude was distressed at her unwontedemotion. "Veronica," she said, sadly and lovingly, "this pains me. I hadno idea of your feeling; no conception of your having suffered so. You arealways so quiet and reserved that I thought you had peace within, thoughyour face is so often clouded with apparent discontent. Now I see thatyour heart is heavy. If I could only show you the way to peace--that isthe way to happiness.
The girl said nothing; she only shook her head as if to say: "Peace is notfor me," and her eyes shone like fire with her inward excitement.
"Veronica," said Gertrude presently, "to-morrow is Christmas day. Do youremember how when you were little children we always prayed together atnight, and how happy you always were at Christmas, and how gladly yousaid your little prayer? Will you not pray with me now, my child, as wedid in those dear old days?"
The girl turned her face aside and wiped away her tears. "I will, mother,"she said, making an effort to control herself, "it will bring back thosehappy days in memory, and give you a little pleasure."
She folded her hands and began to repeat the Lord's prayer. Gertrudefollowed reverently. When she reached the words, "Forgive us ourtrespasses," Veronica hid her face in her hands, and broke into violentsobs.
"No, mother, I must not say it. I cannot forgive him. I cannot forgiveDietrich for having treated you so, and then run away and hidden himselfwithout writing a single word, to tell you where he is. He must know howyou are suffering, and I too. And that Judas! I can never, never forgivehim. He led Dietrich astray and deceived him. He has destroyed all ourhappiness. How can I forgive him? Doesn't he deserve our hatred? Can Ihelp wishing him the worst punishment that ever befell a human being?"
Veronica sobbed as if the long-pent-up agony of her heart would neveragain submit to be restrained. Silently Gertrude sat with folded hands,waiting till the storm was spent. At last she said softly,
"If I felt as you do, my child, I could not bear it at all. It would killme. But I do not feel so. When my Dieterli was a little child and I had todo everything for him, before he was old enough to take care of himself,there was much in his character and conduct that made me anxious. Healways wanted to be first
in everything, and whatever he wished for, thathe must have, without delay and without effort on his part. And as he grewolder and these qualities strengthened, I often felt that with hisheadstrong disposition he could never become great and good, without thediscipline of a severe school. From the earliest hours of his life, I gavehim into God's hands, and prayed for God's care and guidance. And throughall these years my constant prayer for my boy has been, 'Lead him whereThou wilt, Oh God, only let him not fall out of Thy hands; When this heavytrial came, which was almost beyond my strength to bear, I did not losemy faith that the God to whom I had given him, would not let my Dieterichbe lost. If the hard lessons of life have begun for Dietrich, he mustlearn them thoroughly; and if his sins are to be purged away, he mustsuffer in the process. And though I suffer too, it is God's will; I havehad much schooling in my life, and have learned much and gained much fromit. Do not feel so hardly against Dietrich because he has not written tous. Perhaps he has written, and the letter has gone astray. I look for aletter every day, but if he does not write, we may be sure that he is ingreat trouble, poor boy! He knows how we feel toward him, and if he hasgone into evil ways we must pity him the more and pray God to bring himback into the right path again. As to Jost, I think as you do, that he isto blame for our poor boy's troubles. He led him astray and then playedhim false. Jost is a poor lost sheep who has wandered far from the fold.He has no one to care for him, no one to lead him back again. He is alonein the world. Should not we pray that he may be shown the wickedness ofhis ways, that his conscience may be awakened and that he may repent andhis soul be saved?"
Veronica had listened attentively to all that Gertrude had said. After asilence she said thoughtfully,
"Mother, are you made happy by this faith in God?"
And without a moment's hesitation came the answer;
"I know of nothing that can make us so happy as this faith--the strongconfidence in our hearts that our Father in Heaven orders and watches overour lives, and that everything which happens to us is for our good, if weobey him and hold fast to him. I do not know much, Veronica; I have notread nearly as much as lame Sabina, or as you have, and you understandthings far better than I do; but it seems to me that you would have gainedmore from your reading, if you had tried to find something in the books,which you could use to help you in your trouble, and not merely to findout something new about what other people do and how they live."
"If you learned from these books that our Lord Jesus Christ first taughtthe lesson that all men are equal in the sight of God, and that one soulis of as much worth as another before Him, then it must have been toldthere too, how our Savior brought us the glad tidings that we have aFather in Heaven, who loves His children and who will bless them if theyput their trust in Him. Our Savior shows us the way to our HeavenlyFather, and will help us to overcome all the difficulties that stand inour path. He speaks to us with a tenderness beyond that of any otherfriend, and bids us lay our burdens upon Him and He will help us to bearthem."
"But mother," said Veronica, looking with a wonder that was almost aweupon the peaceful countenance of the mother, "can you truly say that youhave found peace and happiness, while you have no news from him, and donot know what dreadful tidings any minute may bring you?"
"Yes, Veronica, I can and I do say so," answered Gertrude, and her faceeven without words would have borne witness to the truth of what she said."I know that what ever comes to us, comes from God, and is for our good.But Veronica, we must put away all hatred and bitterness from our hearts;these feelings are all evil, and we must ask to be forgiven for them.Shall I go on with the prayer, where you left off, my child? Try to joinwith me; it will help you, dear."
And Gertrude finished the Lord's prayer.
Veronica sat silent for a time, and then rose and went to her own room.She could not sleep, but she had no inclination to seek relief for troublein her sewing, as she had been accustomed to do. Gertrude's words wereworking in her heart. How often had she said lately in the proudbitterness of her heart, "A fine truth indeed!
'Fortune stands ready, full in sight, He wins, who knows to grasp it right!'"
And now Gertrude had shown her that the words were true after all, andthat she had herself grasped Happiness, the truest Fortune, even in themidst of a deep sorrow, greater even than Veronica's own.
Sleeplessly for Veronica the hours of the night went by; but over and overagain the mother's words sounded in her ears, and she strove to quiet withthem the trouble and unrest of her heart.