“My first Sabbath in this land of the East!” thought Io, as her eyes first unclosed on Sunday morning. “This is a Communion Sabbath too. Oh, shall I to-day be granted the priceless blessing, which I have not enjoyed since my marriage, of having my heart’s beloved at my side when I approach the Lord’s table? May my Oscar, as well as his wife, make this a day of new consecration to any work which the Master may give us to do! May we both begin a closer ‘walk with God,’ and find happiness in the consciousness of His abiding presence!” Such were Io’s hopes; her fears need not be recorded.
The Coldstreams preferred walking to church, though Io was to return in a palanquin to avoid the heat of the sun as the day advanced. Thud sauntered along beside his sister.
“I shall like to hear the chaplain preach,” observed Io.
“I don’t expect much from that pale little man, though I daresay he’s a good sort of fellow,” said Thud in a patronizing way. “I don’t think he’ll give us anything new.”
“In religion the old things are best,” remarked Io. “So in nature what we have had longest we value most; indeed, speaking of such things, ‘old’ is not the right word. The sun, moon, stars, the breezes, the glorious sea, never grow old. Even of the flowers I like to think that we see the very same kind of blossoms that bloomed under the eye of Eve.”
“But ‘the trail of the serpent is over them all,’” murmured Oscar under his breath.
“Not all—oh, not all!” exclaimed Io, catching the figurative meaning of Moore’s mournful line. “Such love as ours is a pure fragrant flower of Eden—resembling this.” Io plucked a very beautiful rose from a bush; for in southern climes even November and December have their roses.
“That rose has a worm in it,” said Thud; “don’t you see the little round hole in the petals?”
“You are quick-sighted to see the blemish in the beautiful,” observed Oscar Coldstream.
“Oh yes, I am pretty quick-sighted,” said Thucydides Thorn with self-satisfaction.
The church was at no very great distance. The congregation was small, but to Io there was peaceful joy in finding herself again in a place of worship, and hearing in her native tongue dear familiar words of prayer. She sang God’s praises with heart and soul, though the music was hardly such as would have pleased a critical ear, and the rich, deep voice which used formerly to blend with hers was silent now. Only once did Oscar join in a single verse, “From lowest depths of woe,” and then he was silent again. Oscar knelt silently during the prayers, save that in a low tone he repeated the first responses in the Litany; in the Thanksgiving Io could not catch the sound of his voice.
It has been mentioned that the Moulmein congregation was a small one; at the Communion Service it became smaller still. Io noticed with a pang that Oscar left her side and walked out of the church before that part of the service began. Thud had departed almost before the blessing was pronounced. He did not walk home with Oscar, but joined young Pogson, whose society was more congenial to the lad.
“I say, it must be jolly to you to have a comfortable nest to roost in, with such a pretty sister to keep house, and such a gay, lively companion as Coldstream, instead of having to elbow your way through the world like me,” observed Pogson, who was lighting a cigar.
“Gay—lively!” echoed Thud with as much surprise as his heavy countenance could express. “Why, Oscar’s as grave as judge, jury, and criminal all put together!—Give me a cigar, will you?” Thud thought it a dignified thing to smoke.
“Coldstream must be wonderfully changed then since his marriage,” quoth Pogson. “I thought that he looked very grave, but he always was solemn in church.”
“I’ve a theory that marriage does make men grave and solemn,” said Thud. “Marriage alters them altogether. I never mean to marry, or let any girl have a chance of altering me.”
“You think that no alteration could be an improvement,” said Pogson with a smile. The sarcasm was lost on Thucydides Thorn; he seldom understood when he was the object of satire.
Joy and sorrow, hope and fear, were commingled in the heart of Io Coldstream as she returned in her palanquin to her new home. The service in church had refreshed her spirit; it was sweet to the young Christian to try to lay her burden down at the Saviour’s feet. But she still felt where the burden had chafed; there was not perfect repose in her soul. Often and often did Io review in her mind her conversation with the chaplain on the subject of Oscar’s depression.
“Very holy men have before now had spiritual difficulties and mental trials,” reflected Io. “Does not Bunyan represent even his Christian and Hopeful in Doubting Castle under the tyranny of Giant Despair? They indeed had strayed from the narrow path. I cannot think that Oscar has ever thus strayed, but yet he may have his giant to fight. Christian had the key of promise in his bosom,............