"NOW it is all over. I shall never have another chance like that,and must make up my mind to be a lonely and laborious spinster allmy life. Youth is going fast, and I have little in myself to attractor win, though David did call me 'good and lovely.' Ah, well, I'lltry to deserve his praise, and not let disappointment sour or saddenme. Better to hope and wait all my life than marry without love."Christie often said this to herself during the hard days thatfollowed Mr. Fletcher's disappearance; a disappearance, by the way,which caused Mr. Power much satisfaction, though he only betrayed itby added kindness to Christie, and in his manner an increasedrespect very comforting to her.
But she missed her lover, for nothing now broke up the monotony of auseful life. She had enjoyed that little episode; for it had lentromance to every thing while it lasted, even the charity basket withwhich she went her rounds; for Mr. Fletcher often met her byaccident apparently, and carried it as if to prove the sincerity ofhis devotion. No bouquets came now; no graceful little notes withbooks or invitations to some coveted pleasure; no dangerouslydelightful evenings in the recess, where, for a time, she felt andused the power which to a woman is so full of subtle satisfaction;no bitter-sweet hopes; no exciting dreams of what might be with theutterance of a word; no soft uncertainty to give a charm to everyhour that passed. Nothing but daily duties, a little leisure thathung heavy on her hands with no hope to stimulate, no lover tolighten it, and a sore, sad heart that would clamor for its right;and even when pride silenced it ached on with the dull pain whichonly time and patience have the power to heal.
But as those weeks went slowly by, she began to discover some of themiracles true love can work. She thought she had laid it in itsgrave; but an angel rolled the stone away, and the lost passion rosestronger, purer, and more beautiful than when she buried it withbitter tears. A spirit now, fed by no hope, warmed by no tenderness,clothed in no fond delusion; the vital soul of love which outlivesthe fairest, noblest form humanity can give it, and sits among theruins singing the immortal hymn of consolation the Great Musiciantaught.
Christie felt this strange comfort resting like a baby in her lonelybosom, cherished and blessed it; wondering while she rejoiced, andsoon perceiving with the swift instinct of a woman, that this was alesson, hard to learn, but infinitely precious, helpful, andsustaining when once gained. She was not happy, only patient; nothopeful, but trusting; and when life looked dark and barren without,she went away into that inner world of deep feeling, high thought,and earnest aspiration; which is a never-failing refuge to thosewhose experience has built within them"The nunnery of a chaste heart and quiet mind."Some women live fast; and Christie fought her battle, won hervictory, and found peace declared during that winter: for herloyalty to love brought its own reward in time, giving her thetranquil steadfastness which comes to those who submit and asknothing but fortitude.
She had seen little of David, except at church, and began to regardhim almost as one might a statue on a tomb, the marble effigy of thebeloved dead below; for the sweet old friendship was only a paleshadow now. He always found her out, gave her the posy she bestliked, said cheerfully, "How goes it, Christie?" and she alwaysanswered, "Good-morning, David. I am well and busy, thank you." Thenthey sat together listening to Mr. Power, sung from the same book,walked a little way together, and parted for another week with ahand-shake for good-by.
Christie often wondered what prayers David prayed when he sat sostill with his face hidden by his hand, and looked up with such aclear and steady look when he had done. She tried to do the same;but her thoughts would wander to the motionless gray figure besideher, and she felt as if peace and strength unconsciously flowed fromit to sustain and comfort her. Some of her happiest moments werethose she spent sitting there, pale and silent, with absent eyes,and lips that trembled now and then, hidden by the flowers heldbefore them, kissed covertly, and kept like relics long after theywere dead.
One bitter drop always marred the pleasure of that hour; for whenshe had asked for Mrs. Sterling, and sent her love, she forcedherself to say kindly:
"And Kitty, is she doing well?""Capitally; come and see how she has improved; we are quite proud ofher.""I will if I can find time. It's a hard winter and we have so muchto do," she would answer smiling, and then go home to struggle backinto the patient mood she tried to make habitual.
But she seldom made time to go and see Kitty's improvement; and,when she did run out for an hour she failed to discover any thing,except that the girl was prettier and more coquettish than ever, andassumed airs of superiority that tried Christie very much.
"I am ready for any thing," she always said with a resolute airafter one of these visits; but, when the time seemed to have comeshe was not so ready as she fancied.
Passing out of a store one day, she saw Kitty all in her best,buying white gloves with a most important air. "That lookssuspicious," she thought, and could not resist speaking.
"All well at home?" she asked.
"Grandma and I have been alone for nearly a week; David went off onbusiness; but he's back now and--oh, my goodness! I forgot: I'm notto tell a soul yet;" and Kitty pursed up her lips, looking quiteoppressed with some great secret.
"Bless me, how mysterious! Well, I won't ask any dangerousquestions, only tell me if the dear old lady is well," saidChristie, desperately curious, but too proud to show it.
"She's well, but dreadfully upset by what's happened; well she maybe." And Kitty shook her head with a look of mingled mystery andmalicious merriment.
"Mr. Sterling is all right I hope?" Christie never called him Davidto Kitty; so that impertinent little person took especial pains tospeak familiarly, sometimes even fondly of him to Christie.
"Dear fellow! he's so happy he don't know what to do with himself. Ijust wish you could see him go round smiling, and singing, andlooking as if he'd like to dance.""That looks as if he was going to get a chance to do it," saidChristie, with a glance at the gloves, as Kitty turned from thecounter.
"So he is!" laughed Kitty, patting the little parcel with a joyfulface.
"I do believe you are going to be married:" exclaimed Christie, halfdistracted with curiosity.
"I am, but not to Miles. Now don't you say another word, for I'mdying to tell, and I promised I wouldn't. David wants to do ithimself. By-by." And Kitty hurried away, leaving Christie as pale asif she had seen a ghost at noonday.
She had; for the thought of David's marrying Kitty had haunted herall those months, and now she was quite sure the blow had come.
"If she was only a nobler woman I could bear it better; but I amsure he will regret it when the first illusion is past. I fancy shereminds him of his lost Letty, and so he thinks he loves her. I prayhe may be happy, and I hope it will be over soon," thought Christie,with a groan, as she trudged away to carry comfort to those whosewoes could be relieved by tea and sugar, flannel petticoats, andorders for a ton of coal.
It was over soon, but not as Christie had expected.
That evening Mr. Power was called away, and she sat alone, bravelytrying to forget suspense and grief in copying the record of herlast month's labor. But she made sad work of it; for her mind wasfull of David and his wife, so happy in the little home which hadgrown doubly dear to her since she left it. No wonder then that sheput down "two dozen children" to Mrs. Flanagan, and "four knithoods" with the measles; or that a great blot fell upon "twentyyards red flannel," as the pen dropped from the hands she claspedtogether; saying with all the fervor of true self-abnegation: "Ihope he will be happy; oh, I hope he will be happy!"If ever woman deserved reward for patient endeavor, hard-wonsubmission, and unselfish love, Christie did then. And she receivedit in full measure; for the dear Lord requites some faithful hearts,blesses some lives that seem set apart for silent pain and solitarylabor.
Snow was falling fast, and a bitter wind moaned without; the housewas very still, and nothing stirred in the room but the flamesdancing on the hearth, and the thin hand moving to and fro among therecords of a useful life.
Suddenly the bell rang loudly and repeatedly, as if the new-comerwas impatient of delay. Christie paused to listen. It was not Mr.
Power's ring, not his voice in the hall below, not his step thatcame leaping up the stairs, nor his hand that threw wide the door.
She knew them all, and her heart stood still an instant; then shegathered up her strength, said low to herself, "Now it is coming,"and was ready for the truth, with a colorless face; eyes unnaturallybright and fixed; and one hand on her breast, as if to hold in checkthe rebellious heart that would throb so fast.
It was David who came in with such impetuosity. Snow-flakes shone inhis hair; the glow of the keen wind was on his cheek, a smile on hislips, and in his eyes an expression she had never seen before.
Happiness, touched with the shadow of some past pain; doubt anddesire; gratitude and love,--all seemed to meet and mingle in it;while, about the whole man, was the free and ardent air of onerelieved from some heavy burden, released from some long captivity.
"O David, what is it?" cried Christie, as he stood looking at herwith this strange look.
"News, Christie! such happy news I can't find words to tell them,"he answered, coming nearer, but too absorbed in his own emotion toheed hers.
She drew a long breath and pressed her hand a little heavier on herbreast, as she said, with the ghost of a smile, more pathetic thanthe saddest tears:
"I guess it, David.""How?" he demanded, as if defrauded of a joy he had set his heartupon.
"I met Kitty,--she told me nothing,--but her face betrayed what Ihave long suspected."David laughed, such a glad yet scornful laugh, and, snatching alittle miniature from his pocket, offered it, saying, with the newimpetuosity that changed him so:
"That is the daughter I have found for my mother. You know her,--youlove her; and you will not be ashamed to welcome her, I think."Christie took it; saw a faded, time-worn likeness of a young girl'shappy face; a face strangely familiar, yet, for a moment, she gropedto find the name belonging to it. Then memory helped her; and shesaid, half incredulously, half joyfully:
"Is it my Rachel?""It is my Letty!" cried David, with an accent of such mingled loveand sorrow, remorse and joy, that Christie seemed to hear in it thedeath-knell of her faith in him. The picture fell from the hands sheput up, as if to ward off some heavy blow, and her voice was sharpwith reproachful anguish, as she cried:
"O David, David, any thing but that!"An instant he seemed bewildered, then the meaning of the grief inher face flashed on him, and his own grew white with indignantrepudiation of the thought that daunted her; but he only said withthe stern brevity of truth:
"Letty is my sister.""Forgive me,--how could I know? Oh, thank God! thank God!" and,dropping down upon a chair, Christie broke into a passion of thehappiest tears she ever shed.
David stood beside her silent, till tie first irrepressible paroxysmwas over; then, while she sat weeping softly, quite bowed down byemotion, he said, sadly now, not sternly:
"You could not know, because we hid the truth so carefully. I haveno right to resent that belief of yours, for I did wrong my poorLetty, almost as much as that lover of hers, who, being dead, I donot curse. Let me tell you every thing, Christie, before I ask yourrespect and confidence again. I never deserved them, but I tried to;for they were very precious to me."He paused a moment, then went on rapidly, as if anxious toaccomplish a hard task; and Christie forgot to weep while listeningbreathlessly.
"Letty was the pride of my heart; and I loved her very dearly, forshe was all I had. Such a pretty child; such a gay, sweet girl; howcould I help it, when she was so fond of me? We were poorthen,--poorer than now,--and she grew restless; tired of hard work;longed for a little pleasure, and could not bear to waste her youthand beauty in that dull town. I did not blame my little girl; but Icould not help her, for I was tugging away to fill father's place,he being broken down and helpless. She wanted to go away and supportherself. You know the feeling; and I need not tell you how theproud, high-hearted creature hated dependence, even on a brother whowould have worked his soul out for her. She would go, and we hadfaith in her. For a time she did bravely; but life was too hard forher; pleasure too alluring, and, when temptation came in the guiseof love, she could not resist. One dreadful day, news came that shewas gone, never to come back, my innocent little Letty, any more."His voice failed there, and he walked fast through the room, as ifthe memory of that bitter day was still unbearable. Christie couldnot speak for very pity; and he soon continued, pacing restlesslybefore her, as he had often done when she sat by, wondering whatunquiet spirit drove him to and fro:
"That was the beginning of my trouble; but not the worst of it: Godforgive me, not the worst! Father was very feeble, and the shockkilled him; mother's heart was nearly broken, and all the happinesswas taken out of life for me. But I could bear it, heavy as the blowwas, for I had no part in that sin and sorrow. A year later, therecame a letter from Letty,--a penitent, imploring, little letter,asking to be forgiven and taken home, for her lover was dead, andshe alone in a foreign land. How would you answer such a letter,Christie?""As you did; saying: 'Corne home and let us comfort you.'""I said: 'You have killed your father; broken your mother's heart;ruined your brother's hopes, and disgraced your family. You nolonger have a home with us; and we never want to see your faceagain.'""O David, that was cruel!""I said you did not know me; now you see how deceived you have been.
A stern, resentful devil possessed me then, and I obeyed it. I wasve............
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