CHAPTER IV.
A TALK WITH AUNT JUDITH.
It was evening; the daily routine of work was over, and the time comefor resting and social enjoyment. The ruby curtains were closely drawnin the cosy parlour at Dingle Cottage; the flames leapt and danced inthe polished grate, and the soft lamplight fell with mellowing gleamaround. Click, click, went Aunt Debby's needles as she sat by the warmglow, knitting industriously; tick, tick, said the little clock, itspendulum swinging steadily to and fro. The cat purred in sleepycontent on the rug; and Aunt Judith's gentle voice fell soothingly onthe ear as she read some book aloud from her low seat by Aunt Meg'scouch.
Nellie, curled up in the rocking-chair opposite Aunt Debby, rockedherself in lazy comfort, and gazed on her invalid relative with rathera doubtful expression of countenance. Her first impression of MissMargaret was certainly not favourable; for the girl, though not verykeen-sighted, saw how the pale pretty face was marred by lines ofpeevish discontent, and the brow continually puckered in a fretfulfrown. She was not old, Nellie decided--not much over thirty, at thevery most; but oh, how unlike Aunt Judith! What a contrast there wasbetwixt that listless, languid form on the sofa, and the quiet figureon the low chair near! Nellie turned with a positive sigh of relief torest her eyes on Miss Latimer's peaceful countenance and wonder at themarvellous calm that always brooded there.
Every now and then some frivolous demand or complaint would come fromthe invalid--her pillows required shaking; the fire was too warm; thelamplight not sufficiently shaded; what a noise Aunt Debby's pins weremaking, and could Aunt Judith not read in a lower tone? Nellie wassurprised at Miss Latimer's good-humoured patience, and thoroughlyenjoyed Miss Deborah's occasional tart remarks, thrown out in sheerdesperation.
"Well, Meg, you would provoke the temper of a saint," she cried,twitching her wool so violently that the thread snapped, and the ballrolled under the table; "there you go grumbling from morning tillnight, in spite of every endeavour to make you comfortable. Yournurses have a hard time, I assure you, and are to be pitied sincerely."
Miss Margaret's eyes filled, and a flood of tears being imminent, MissLatimer strove to avert the torrent by saying, "Come, come, Debby; thatis strong language to use. You and I great healthy creatures do notknow what it is to be confined to a couch day after day, and sufferalmost constant pain. I should feel it very hard to be unable to goabout and walk in God's beautiful sunshine, and I think one cannot besufficiently tender and patient towards the sick and helpless."
"Mental pain is harder to bear than physical," quoth practical MissDeborah, in no way convinced of her harshness by the gentle speech."If one were to have one's choice, I reckon," with strong Yankeeism, "aheadache would be chosen in preference to a heartache," and Aunt Debbynodded her head knowingly.
A white, set look crossed Aunt Judith's face, and a shadow crept intothe dark eyes; but they were gone in a moment, and Miss Latimer's lipswore their own sweet smile as she replied, "God grant you mayexperience little of either, Debby; but if you do, trust me you willfind that both bring the richest blessings in their train;" and AuntJudith's patient face shone with a glad light as she spoke.
"Meg has failed to seize her blessings, then," said Miss Deborahcomposedly. "No, no, Judith, you are a good woman, but you won'tconvince me that Margaret is justified in whining and grumbling to theextent she does."
"I need never look for sympathy from you, Debby," broke in the invalidwith a low sob; "you are very hard-hearted, but the day will come whenall those cruel speeches will rise up and condemn you."
"When?" with provoking gravity.
"When I am no longer here" (low sobs), "and the cold earth hides me forever from your sight."
"So let it be," retaliated Miss Deborah, coolly proceeding to turn theheel of her stocking, and speaking quite placidly. "I shall rememberthe amount of exasperation I received when that day comes, and be ableto meet the condemnation with becoming fortitude."
"Debby, Debby," said Miss Latimer's voice reprovingly; but the warningcame too late. A violent fit of hysterics ensued, and Miss Margaretwas borne to her room by the much-enduring sisters, whose services wereboth required to quell the outburst and settle her comfortably for thenight.
Nellie, left alone in the snug parlour, drew her chair closer to thefire, and lifting the cat from its cosy bed on the rug, allowed it tocurl up comfortably on her lap. "What a fuss," said the girl,shrugging her shoulders and gazing into the bright, glowing fire. "IfI were Aunt Meg, I should be positively ashamed of myself--peevish,cross thing that she is. What a contrast to Aunt Judith;" and hereNellie fell into a fit of musing, which lasted till Miss Deborah camein with the cloth for supper.
"How is Aunt Meg now?" she inquired, watching Aunt Debby bustling abouton hospitable thoughts intent. "Is she better?"
"Well, yes," was the reply, given with a little twinkle of the eye;"and a good night's rest will work wonders. You must excuse your auntthis evening, Nellie; she is not always so fretful, and an invalid'slife has its hard times."
Miss Deborah spoke earnestly, for although she felt justified in sayinga sharp word herself, she could ill brook the idea of any onedisparaging or thinking lightly of her invalid sister. Nellie gave aslight nod of assent, which seemed to signify approval of Aunt Debby'swords. Nevertheless she retained her own opinion, and mentallycondemned poor Miss Margaret as being both weak and silly.
Supper over, Miss Deborah retired to the kitchen, where her reign asqueen was undisputed, and Miss Latimer, bidding Nellie bring a smallstool and sit down at her feet, began to stroke the soft hair gently,and ask questions as to the day's proceedings.
"Tell me your first impressions, dear child," said the kind voicepleasantly; and the young girl, whose heart still ached at theremembrance of Ada Irvine's stinging words, poured forth the wholestory with a force and passion which astonished even herself.
Aunt Judith listened quietly--so quietly, indeed, that Nellie felt halfashamed of her vehemence, and imagined she had been making "much adoabout nothing;" but in a few minutes Miss Latimer spoke, and her toneswere very tender as she said:--"So my little Nellie has learned thatschool is not the sunny place she fancied it was. Dear child, I thinkyour new friend gave you very good advice. Don't be a coward, Nellie,and allow your happiness to be marred by the insolent tongue of aspoilt girl. Show her a true lady is characterized, not by outwarddress and appearance, but by the innate beauty of heart and soul, andleave your quiet endurance and pleasant courtesy to speak forthemselves. Dear, it seems to me as if you were just beginning lifenow--as if you had but newly entered the lists, and were preparing forthat battle which we have all to fight in this world. The warfare isseldom, if ever, an easy one, and the little stings of everyday lifeare harder to bear than many a heavy trial; but you must determine tobe a brave, true soldier, Nellie, and make your life a grand, nobleone. You may say to me it is easy to speak, but difficult to act,which I readily grant; but, my child, although the acting may seemalmost impossible, we have one Friend ever able and willing to help us.If we choose Him in all sincerity of heart for our Captain, we need notfear to engage in the very thick of the fight."
Aunt Judith paused; and Nellie, seizing the gentle hand which wasstroking her head with tender touch, said, "You make me think of myfather, auntie; he speaks so often to us just as you are doing now.Every Sabbath evening, when the little ones are in bed, he gathers usround him; and after reading a portion of the Bible, he closes the bookand talks in the same way. Oh, I feel so strong and brave while Ilisten--I feel as if I could face the heaviest sorrow with all courage;but when Monday comes my good resolutions vanish, and I find myselfyielding and sinning as before."
The girl gazed straight at her aunt as she spoke, fearing to see a lookof disapprobation over her weakness; but Miss Latimer's face was ascalm as ever, only the eyes seemed softer and full of such a tender,loving light as she replied,--
"We have most of us the same story to tell, child,--a story of braveryso long
as the battle is far off, but of cowardly shrinking when thetime for hand-to-hand conflict comes. Whilst the sunshine is allaround us and our hearts full of great gladness, we look up and thankthe good Father for his precious blessings, feeling nerved for thefiercest fight; but when the storm-clouds gather and the goldenbrightness is withdrawn, we bow before the blinding tempest and writheunder our pain, unless--and the kind voice spoke very softly--theMaster has our hearts in his own safe keeping, unless we have learnedto love his will. Then we can discern the bright stars of his loveshining through the darkness, and find that the apparently pitilessstorm has left diamond drops of blessing behind it. Never despair,Nellie; strive and pray for grace to follow in the Master's footsteps,and you will learn what a grand, noble thing the consecrated life is,and how truly worth living. You know those lines of Kingsley's, do younot?--
'Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; _Do_ noble things, not _dream_ them all day long; And so make life, death, and the vast forever, One grand sweet song.'"
There was a long silence after this, during which Nellie thoughtdeeply, and Aunt Judith lay back in her chair with quietly-folded handsand a far-seeing look in her patient eyes. Then the girl saidearnestly, "Aunt Judith, I will try very hard to do my best, I willindeed; and oh, may I come to you when things go wrong, and I can't orwon't see the right way? It does me good to have a talk with you, andtakes half the home-sickness away. Say yes; please do, dear, dear,dear auntie;" and Nellie's voice sounded very earnest.
"I shall be only too glad, my child," replied Miss Latimer with herrare sweet smile. "Treat me as you would your own mother, dear, andlet me help you so far as I am able; only, Nellie, don't depend on yourown strength or my aid, but go straight to the Fountain-head, and findthe never-failing strength and grace for the needs of every day."
"Thank you, Aunt Judith," was the fervent response; then Aunt Debbyentered, and the conversation ceased.
Bedtime came. Nellie retired for the night; Miss Deborah 'followedsuit;' and Miss Latimer, extinguishing the light, crossed the tinyhall, and opening a door to the left, entered, and closed it softlybehind her.
This, her private sanctum, was like the other apartments--small andplainly furnished, but with the same air of neatness and comfort. Abook-case lined one side of the room entirely; a small round tablestood close to the window, bright with autumn flowers; a larger one inthe centre of the room held a desk, and was strown with papers,magazines, etc.; while soft chairs inviting one to luxurious ease facedthe ruddy hearth, and various little nick-nacks scattered here andthere showed the graceful touch of a woman's hand.
Going to the centre table, Aunt Judith seated herself before the opendesk, looked over several closely-written sheets of manuscript, andthen furnishing herself with fresh paper, began to write rapidly.
The fire burned slowly out, and the midnight hour had long sounded ereMiss Latimer dried her pen and laid aside her work with a tired sigh.Crossing to the window, she raised the blind, and leaning against thecasement, looked away up at the quiet night sky. There was no moon;but the happy stars, shining with frosty brightness, kept their silentwatch over the sleeping world. Oh, how still, how very hushed it was!what a great infinite peace seemed brooding over all--a peace such asmillions of weary souls were longing to possess; not a sound to beheard, not a ripple of unrest--only that wondrous calm. For a longtime Miss Latimer stood drinking in the sweetness and beauty of thenature-world, and letting her thoughts soar up, upwards to the greatFather of all, who neither slumbers nor sleeps. What those thoughtswere we do not know; but surely some of that vast peace must havestolen softly, silently, into her patient heart, for when she turnedaway and entered a tiny bedroom leading off from her sanctum, AuntJudith's face seemed as it were the face of an angel.