CHAPTER VII.
That day, when Phosy and her father had sat down to their Christmasdinner, he rose again, and taking her up as she sat, chair and all,set her down close to him, on the other side of the corner of thetable. It was the first of a new covenant between them. The father'seyes having been suddenly opened to her character and preciousness, aswell as to his own neglected duty in regard to her, it was as if awell of life had burst forth at his feet. And every day, as he lookedin her face and talked to her, it was with more and more respect forwhat he found in her, with growing tenderness for her predilections,and reverence for the divine idea enclosed in her ignorance, for herchildish wisdom, and her calm seeking--until at length he would havebeen horrified at the thought of training her up in _his_ way: had shenot a way of her own to go--following--not the dead Jesus, but Himwho liveth for evermore? In the endeavour to help her, he had to findhis own position towards the truth; and the results were weighty.--Nordid the child's influence work forward merely. In his intercourse withher he was so often reminded of his first wife, and that, with thegloss or comment of a childish reproduction, that his memories of herat length grew a little tender, and through the child he began tounderstand the nature and worth of the mother. In her child she hadgiven him what she could not be herself. Unable to keep up with him,she had handed him her baby, and dropped on the path.
Nor was little Sophy his only comfort. Through their common loss andher husband's tenderness, Letty began to grow a woman. And her growthwas the more rapid that, himself taught through Phosy, her husband nolonger desired to make her adopt his tastes, and judge with hisexperiences, but, as became the elder and the tried, entered into hertastes and experiences--became, as it were, a child again with her,that, through the thing she was, he might help the thing she had tobe.
As soon as she was able to bear it, he told her the story of the deadJesus, and with the tale came to her heart love for Phosy. She hadlost a son for a season, but she had gained a daughter for ever.
Such were the gifts the Christ-child brought to one household thatChristmas. And the days of the mourning of that household were ended.