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"For Father's Sake," or A Tale of New Zealand Life

Chapter XII

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Chapter XII.

And now for my story," said Nellie, when they returned from seeing Mr. Alen start out on his journey.

"I will begin by telling you the romance of my life," said Mrs. Alen, as she gently stroked the dark head that had been placed on her knee, the usual position while listening to a life's story. "Every girl has a romance in her lifetime. I suppose you have, too, Nellie; or if you have not one already, it will appear shortly. I was a girl of seventeen when I first met father. We were both nice-looking then. You would hardly believe that these grey hairs had once been as black as your own; that this old wrinkled face was as round and as smooth; that these dull grey eyes were once bright and full of maidenly pride. Father had the nicest eyes I had ever seen in man. They were what first attracted my attention. Even now one cannot help admiring them. They have grown lighter, but in his prime they were the deepest blue, almost violet. We used often to be known as 'the handsome couple." At the age of seventeen I hardly knew what love and marriage meant. My father did, however; and when he saw that acquaintance was fast ripening into friendship, he surmised the result, and interfered. Too late. Although in my heart the seed had not begun to germinate, in father's it had both taken root and sprung into bud, and all the power of parents could not prevent its growth, Father was ten years older than I, so you see he was no child. Finding they could not separate us, my parents sent me to the convent, and for three years I lived within its walls. That happy peaceful time I page 118shall never forget. The nuns treated me with great kindness, never allowing the difference of our belief to interfere with their treatment. I did not know what it was to hear a cross word. There was such an air of perfect tranquillity about the whole place, I often think I would like to die within the walls of a Roman Catholic Convent. Do you wonder why I close my ears when I hear those of my own religion condemning the religion of the Catholics? I grant there is much in their worship that does not coincide with my views, but why should that cause bitterness? A perfect creed would practice charity by looking at the good in creeds of others. You see, sin still remains with us. If more time were spent in loving there would be less time for hating; and there would be less to hate and more to love. But that is apart from the subject. When my three years of happy imprisonment had expired, a stranger knocked at the convent gate and requested to see Miss Murger. He was admitted. Mr. Alen stood before me. Separation, instead of hardening the ground of my heart, had prepared it for the seed's growth; and, in the sunshine of father's presence, life burst forth. From that moment I knew I loved and was beloved. As soon as my father heard of our meeting he hastened to me. Before entering the convent he and Mr. Alen met. Between them they arranged matters, and I was taken home. Another year of servitude was metred out to us. We were to have no communication with one another, Engagement was out of the question. If at the end of that time we were still of the same opinion, father would consider the subject, but not before. For the present all thought of marriage was to be scouted. It was hard on me. During that year my parents did their best to turn us against each other. They pleaded; they threatened; they prophecied; they drew pictures of a heart-broken and deserted wife, waiting with anxious dread the return of a drunken husband. They pointed to page 119others as warnings and as examples of my fate. Once, before I returned home, I dared to accept a beautiful gold cross from Mr. Alen. It was such a dear little thing; pure gold, with a single ruby in the centre. I think rubies the queen of precious stones. They are so warm and bright and full of hidden fire. I used to wear it tied round my neck with a bit of ribbon, but under my dress, so that nobody could see. I don't know how it happened, but one day that wayward ribbon took a peep at the world outside. Mother noticed it. Tearing the cross from my neck, she smashed it into pieces and trampled upon it. Never, before or since, have I seen mother in such a temper. But all their efforts were of no avail. The new year came. Father gave in, and we were married. Not long after our marriage my father and my husband quarrelled, and we shipped for Australia You will understand that ours was no 'married in haste and repent at leisure' affair. And now began my troubles. Strange though it may seem to you, Nellie, my marriage for many long weary years was a failure. You would think that having waited so long for one another we had learned each other's natures perfectly. We had not. Loving in a blind, heedless way, we did not pause to study one another's characters. We built glass houses around our idols, instead of strengthening the pedestals. When the storm of outside conflict raged around, the glass houses protected those statues; but frames are of no use against the earthquakes of home intercourse. Soon our idols tottered and fell, leaving the broken pedestals to mock our former worship. Further and further we drifted apart. Deeper and deeper grew the gulf between us. I was cold and proud and haughty; father warm-hearted, but weak and obstinate. One waited for the other to make the first advances, and neither of us did. But that was not all. The demon drink broke out in our home. Those four years of waiting had ruined father for home life. Having no home page 120ties of his own, and his dull lodgings jarring on his lively spirits, he entered heart and soul into every kind of excitement, It mattered not whether it be the wine cup or the ballet dancer, all were equally enjoyable to that gay, thoughtless pleasure seeker. Too late for home attractions. An engagement spent in riotous living seldom heralds in the peaceful marriage supper. Mr. Alen became a slave to the drink, and all his promises and resolutions were as sandhills before the terrific force of those mighty waves. At first I tried to win my husband from his companions, but meeting with no success I grew tired; and when he came home more a beast than a man, I passed him by with contempt—almost loathing.

'Your prophecies are fulfilled,' I cried in the bitterness of my heart. 'Why did I not heed them? Father, you are avenged.'

Children were born to us, but my heart was frozen, and I refused them a mother's love. Gradually we sank into poverty. Gradually the bitterness of degradation closed over our heads. Then I, the petted child of my father's home, had to take in sewing for the support of myself and children. We never told my people of our reduced circumstances. My husband was ashamed; his wife proud. I may tell you I never saw my father but once after he and my husband quarrelled. It was in the street, a few days before we decided to come to Australia. He stopped and spoke in his kindly manner, but I noticed his hair had grown much whiter since I saw him last, and his dear loving eyes were filled with a new sadness. He died soon after we left Scotland: died praying for the happiness of his disobedient child. If ever you know what it is to have heartache, Nellie, you will understand my feelings." A tear fell on Nellie's hand as it lay on Mrs. Alen's lap.

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"When the last child was born," continued Mrs. Alen, "I was very ill. I recovered a little, but was not fit for work. Still, hungry mouths had to be fed; a broken heart had to be eased of its pain. I resumed my work. O that dreadful time! I often wonder how I bore up so long. The hot weather came in, towing the busy season after it. Many a time it was one or two o'clock in the morning before I laid aside my sewing. Then I had my house-work to do, and the children to get ready for school. This state of affairs could not last long, however. The overtaxed tension of the machine snapped, and the wheel stopped. Before the month was out I collapsed. I remember waking one Sunday morning with a splitting headache. I tried to crawl out of bed, but found that impossible. My Willie brought me a cup of tea and a piece of toast, but I could not touch them. All that day I suffered such agony as I never wish to suffer again. Toward evening I became delirious. Father had just recovered from a fit of drinking, and was not in the best of humours. I could not bear him near my bed. His harsh voice and rough manner grated upou my nerves and set my blood boiling. When I felt my senses leaving me I sent Willie for the doctor. 'Go,' cried I; 'I am going mad.' Poor little fellow! I fancy I see him running down that dark and lonely street, without either shoes or stockings on his little feet, the night air lifting his long curly hair from his brow; the one voice in his heart, 'Mother is dying.' For two weeks I lay between life and death. Kind friends came in during the day to do what they could for me, but they were all of the working class, and had their own duties to attend to. During the night I was alone. We tried everywhere for a nurse, but no one would come. Father was the objection. His guerrullous temper was too universally known. At the end of the two weeks a second doctor was called in. They stayed with me a few minutes, then went page 122away, but I knew by their grave faces that there was little hope. "If your wife does not get proper attention, twenty-four hours is all we can guarantee," was the sum and substance of their verdict given to father. For once father was aroused out of the sleepy selfishness into which he had fallen. He came and entreated me to try and get better. 'For the children's sake,' he pleaded. These were the first kind words he had used toward me for many months; but I felt it was too late for a display of affection. I turned my face to the wall and refused to hearken. At last he grew tired of his fruitless efforts, and left me, 'to my sulks,' as he termed it. All that morning I lay there thinking. Neighbours with muffled footsteps passed in and out; anxious faces approached my bed; hushed voices spoke, but these were nothing to me; I was in the land of dreams, O how I longed to hear the rain. What would I not give to be sitting outside, and feeling the showers pour down upon my head. I almost held up my arms to catch those refreshing drops. Then I fancied I was a child again, happy and free; roaming over my father's plantation; losing myself in the African bush; hearing the 'Luf luf' of the Hottentots; standing beside the tall upright forms of the Kaffir women, and looking into their dark proud faces; talking to the Dutch in their own peculiar language; sitting beneath the leafy trees listening to the chatter of the monkeys and the singing of the birds, and wondering in a vague childish way if heaven is so much more beautiful than earth, how beautiful it must be, since, in itself, earth contains such beanty. Then I felt the heaving of a ship. I saw the blue waters beneath and the blue sky above. A sea of faces flashed across my vision; my feet trod strange streets; I was in Scotland, in my mother's native land. Once again I entered the convent and enjoyed its sweet serenity; enjoyed the tender caress of the Mother Superior. I saw myself a careless thoughtless bride, page 123proud and happy, dressed in my bridal garments, wearing my bridal wreath. A dark cloud passed over the sun and threw a shadow upon me as I stood before the altar. I shuddered, and drew nearer to my betrothed. The shadow deepened; the blackness of night surrounded me. There lay my husband as I saw him the day before I was taken ill; lay stretched across the verandah; lay where his companions had left him after robbing him of his manhood.

'I don't want to live,' I cried in the bitterness of my soul. 'Let me die. O let me die.' A gentle tap was heard at my window, a sweet low voice asked admittance, and a bright, fresh-looking young girl walked in. When I look at you, Nellie, I always think of her. You have her dark hair and dreamy eyes, her cheerful smile and soft voice. She came to my bedside and asked me how I felt. I could not say I was dying in such a presence. I stretched out my hand, and she took it between her soft warm palms. 'I am Eva Evans,' she explained. 'I heard you were ill, so came to see if I could do anything for you.'

'Thanks,' I said, faintly. 'I think not.' I confess I felt half ashamed of my cowardice, Eva sat down on the edge of the bed and looked long and earnestly into my face. 'Mrs. Alen,' she said, after studying my condition to her own satisfaction and to my discomfiture. 'Mrs. Alen, I believe you have not been able to get a nurse.'

'There is hardly need of a nurse now,' I answered wearily.

'I am glad there is a "hardly" in your answer,' said she, with a bright smile. 'Will you have me, Mrs. Alen? I am a stranger here, and do not know much about nursing, but I can learn.' I looked into the bright face, into the truthful eyes. Surely I was not in another dream. Just at that moment father came in. He stopped at the door when he saw the stranger.

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'This is Miss Evans,' I said, shortly. 'She is going to stay with me awhile; so you need not bother about a nurse.'

The courtesy with which he accepted the introduction showed me he also felt the same respect as I did toward this gentle girl.

Eva stayed with us all the time I was ill. I cannot tell you what a comfort she was. From the first moment of her entering my room I began to revive; health and spirits grew strong in that pure presence. Whenever I tried to thank her for her kindness, she would whisper in my ear, 'It is not for you alone, dear Mrs. Alen. I am in the Master's servicc. He pays me.'

Eva stayed with me until I was able to do my own work; until my jealousy drove her away. Yes, Nellie, I grew jealous of Eva's influence in my home. I forgot the weary anxious hours she spent by my bedside; forgot the gentle hand that cooled my heated brow; forgot the cheerful word that soothed the pain in my aching heart; forgot the doctor's words as he turned to her when the crisis was past, saying, 'I congratulate you, Miss Evans. You have saved a life.' Forgot my own answer, 'And a soul.' I forgot all these, and made the last few days of her stay with us a burden to her. Ah! jealousy is not only as cruel as the grave, but it is as deceitful as riches. It robs us of all our gratitude. It blinds us by hiding the purity of intentions. It works upon our imaginations until it succeeds in creating therein objects hideous to behold. Then it sets those objects at war with one another, and when the tumult is at it highest it vanishes, leaving us to fight our own way out of the mire, and to discover its deceitful practices at our leisure. I followed Eva about wherever she went. I listened to every word she spoke to my husband; and when the children kissed her goodnight (a thing they never did to me) I hated her. I think my own coldness was beginning to retaliate, page 125and I felt the rebuke. One evening we were having tea. Father had had his in town. Presently I heard him call Eva. It was one of Eva's characteristics to grant an immediate hearing. She rose and went to answer the call. My blood was boiling. Creeping along the passage, I followed, I saw a large picture album lying open upon the drawing-room table. I saw Eva approach, and I saw father bend over to explain something, To my excited imagination I thought there was more than mere friendliness in their attitudes. Gliding into the bedroom I waited, A minute afterwards Eva returned to the dining-room, and I heard her ask if I had finished my tea. I went into the parlour and confronted my husband. My face must have betrayed my intentions, for, stepping behind me, father closed the door.

'Mr. Alen,' I said, 'have I not suffered enough at your hands, that you seek to inflict more?'

'What do you mean, Polly?' asked my husband, quietly.

'You know quite well what I mean. Do you think I am blind! I see the little flirtations carried on beneath my very eyes.'

'I am heartily ashamed of your conduct, Polly. Flirtations! What next?'

For a moment I had forgotten all about listeners. My imaginary wrongs were all I could think of.

'Ashamed! Who is it should be ashamed? And she's crawling into my house under the guise of charity nurse. My firm belief is that it is all a planned affair.' Not that I meant what I said, but I wanted to say something spiteful. You should have seen father's face. It was a picture in itself.

"Flirt with Miss Evans!' he laughed, scornfully. 'Do you think it is possible to flirt with Miss Evans? A minister would not dare to do so, let alone a disreputable wretch like me. No, Polly; I could not flirt with her. Her very sim-page 126plicity is her shield. And when you have regained your senses you will agree with me.'

My anger fled before his indignation; but I was too proud to own myself vanquished. I turned my back upon my husband and marched out of the room. When I reached the dining-room everything had been cleared away, and the children were in bed. I began to feel some qualms of remorse, and for the first time thought of the possibility of my words having been heard. I glanced round the dining-room. Eva had drawn the couch, near the fire. She herself was kneeling on the hearthrug with one elbow leaning against the foot of the couch, and her chin resting on her open palm. The other hand hung loosely by her side. There was no lamp in the room, but I could plainly see her by the firelight. That picture, Nellie, I shall never forget. Were I an artist, and had the prerogative of painting a picture for the Academy, I would choose that scene and denominate it, 'Maligned.' The eyes were gazing into the fire as if to read there the words of the soul's vindication. Only half of the face was seen; but that half was enongh. Perhaps it was the firelight, perhaps it was my guilty conscience, but to me that pale face, with its set lips and shadowy eye, its pointed chin, the creamy whiteness of the neck, the shining dark hair, drawn back from the white brow and fastened in massive coils at the back of the neck, and that drooping posture, with the flickering firelight playing at hide-and-seek over all, formed the embodiment of firm proud innocence and sensitive pain. She turned at my approach, and rising to her feet, bade me be seated. I sank on the couch, cowed by that calm dignity. She pointed to a chair beside me, and father took it. We were like guilty children before a disobeyed parent.

'Mrs. Alen,' she said, in a stern sad voice;—Nellie, that voice is not unlike Christ's, when He turns to reprove His erring but penitent disciples. 'Mrs. Alen, your fears are as page 127groundless as your accusation is false. Do not think I have been eavesdropping. One can hardly be blamed for hearing words spoken in the tones you used. Although that fault would be but a trifle compared with the opinion you have already formed of my character." Crossing over to father, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Alen,' she continued, in a softened tone, 'I have tried by my example to let you feel that there is only one way to obtain true happiness: the way of right acting, You have promised to keep away from drink and drink's partners, and to spend more time with your wife and children. I charge you, keep your promise. Last evening you wished to know in what manner you could repay me all that I have done for you. I give you the bill:—Cast away for ever the poison that is ruining your life; the poison that is turning one of the finest characters into one of the most degraded. I will not exact a second promise, but trust to your honour to pay your debt; and of my own free will, here in the presence of your wife, I seal the receipt with a kiss." She bent down and pressed a kiss lightly on father's forehead; then turned to me.

"I do not rebuke you for your unkindness, Mrs. Alen,' she said, in the same quiet tone. 'Nay, rather, I pity you the regret you will feel when I am gone. I leave you to-night, for I could not stay under the roof of one who did not trust me. I have noticed the change in your manner within these last few days, but, trying to persuade myself it was imagination, I have unsuccessfully attempted to stifle the warning whisper as to its cause. We may never meet again Mrs. Alen. Will you listen while I explain the reason of my coming here? Perhaps then you will be convinced that my coming to you was no planned affair.

Twelve months ago my father, whom I loved best on earth, died. On his death-bed he laid the command upon me—the command of doing all the good I could while I had the page 128opportunity. His own life had been almost wasted. I have, therefore, two lives to live; his and my own. Consequently, mine is a double duty. In endeavouring to carry out his last command, I, when I heard of your troubles, came. For the same reason I will not accept payment. Besides, I receive remuneration from heaven; remuneration of much more value than worldly lncre. It did not require more than a day's sojourn under your roof to understand the full state of affairs. I pitied your husband's failings, and sympathised with your shame. If such feelings have led me to be gentle in my bearing toward your husband, do not attribute unto it more than is meant. As for your children; let your obligation to me be my excuse for speaking thus:—Do you not think it would be more profitable to spend a little of the time you use caring for their bodies, to spend a little of that time studying their natures and modelling their minds? If you would enter into their joys and troubles more, instead of sending them away with the rebuff, "I have enough troubles of my own, without bothering about yours," it would teach them to love you, and you would learn to love them. Oh, Mrs. Alen!" Eva's voice had a ring of pain, in it which has haunted me ever since. "My own childhood was cold and stern. I feel now the want of that "one thing needful." That want will never be supplied. Time cannot fill the vacancy its neglect has left in my life; and by my own need I speak for the benefit of your children.'

She left us, but returned in a few minutes for a last parting word. I remember thinking how like the picture of angels she was; there was such an air of sweet purity about her. During her brief absence she had dressed herself for the street; a silvery grey jacket, trimmed with rich fur, a small grey cap; on her face a tender wistful smile. Those little hands that had become roughened through tending on us, were clasped together, and I could see the blue veins beneath page 129the transparent skin. Perhaps, I am inclined to harp too much on Eva's goodness, Nellie; but, Oh! it is so nice to see a little of Heaven in the midst of this cold sham humanity; and I do not think goodness can be commended too much, especially when it appears in the form of a sweet unselfish girl. Such characters are not so common as to become worthless; and it is only the common who do not discern beauty where beauty exists.

Taking one of father's hands, and one of mine, she put them within one another, saying, "Begin your girl and boyhood years again, and learn to love one another. It will take all the remainder of your lives to make up for loss time. Good bye; God bless you." I heard the door close, I heard retreating steps on the gravel path outside; and I looked, and continue to look into a great darkness, which never parts to allow me a glimpse of that sweet, sweet face. When I got better I made enquiries about her movements, and found she had set sail for China. Mine was not the first house she had entered as a messenger of peace, but I was the first to repay her with ingratitude. I have learned too well the meaning of those words, 'I pity you the regret you will feel when I am gone.'

I further learned that she was a native of New Zealand in every respect but that of birth. That her father, who was one of New Zealand's earliest settlers, died, leaving her, his only child, alone in the world; and that as affairs were settled, she had emigrated as a missionary, calling at Sydney on her way thence.

She told me herself," added Mrs. Alen, "that she never saw her mother; that she did not remember anything about Home, as she was only a child when her father brought her to the Colonies. Her father educated her; and by the pupil, the teacher must have been a learned man. In his own way he was kind and good to her, but being always wrapped in page 130thought, he was no companion for his wild, wayward daughter. 'I used to have such fun,' she said one day in answer to my question regarding her greatest enjoyment, 'I used to have such fun chasing after the half-wild cattle. Yes, I think those were the happiest moments of my life. To see the cows scamper over the hills and into the valleys, with their tails in the air an I their tongues hanging out, and with us—myself and two or three Maoris—mounted on equally wild horses, full tare after. It was really grand fun: I am sure I could not enjoy anything better. There were times when I would go to the kainga and watch the Natives at their work. That was good too. To see this meek and mild Miss Evans, you would not believe she had been carried for miles, and for many more times, on a Maori's back.'

Well," continued Mrs. Allen, "about three months after Eva left, we went to spend an evening at the house of one of our neighbours. On our return, I noticed father seemed quiet and preoccupied. I also noticed that several times during the evening he had been engaged in earnest conversation with a stranger. My curiosity was aroused, soon to be set at rest by father saying abruptly, "Do you know, Polly, I have half a mind to go to New Zealand. What think you?"

"Go to New Zealand!" I exclaimed joyfully. "Oh, father, there is nothing I would like better, provided you get work."

"That is easily settled. Mr Watson—you might have seen me speaking to him several times this evening. Well, Mr. Watson has promised me a permanent situation as manager on his run. He happened to know Mr. Evans, Eva's father, and to my mind, admired Eva more than was good for him; which I do not wonder at. However, knowing Eva was sufficient recommendation, and he offered me the post on the spot. I think New Zealand most be a grand page 131country, Polly," added my husband solemnly, "there is something so frank and genuine about its people."

I agreed with father. Indeed we found ourselves agreeing to one another's plans very often, and had almost ceased to be surprised at the novelty.

"We will go, father," I said, and so we went, and here we have been ever since. I often think there is no better recommendation for a place than that of sending out a few of the best characters that place can produce. Had it not been for Eva we would never have been here. Of course, all New Zealanders are not Eva's, still in all, one can trace her lineaments.

Father kept his promise, and never from that day has he touched drink. Once he was sorely tried. The glass was raised to his lips; but ere he tasted, the pressure of a holy kiss reminded him of his promise. He dashed the glass to the floor, saying, "I dare not; 'twould be a mockery." The glass was smashed to atoms, but the promise remained whole, and I for once foolishly rejoiced over a spoiled carpet.

When that curse was taken from our home, we found we were gradually learning to love one another. With a little practice, you would not believe how easy it became to tell to one another all our thoughts and hopes. And even now, after all these years, we have not learned the last lesson in the science of 'love making.' Eva was quite right when she said 'it would take us all our lives to make up for lost time.'"

Mrs. Alen laid her hand tenderly on Nellie's bowed head when she had finished speaking: "Do you know why I have told you this story, Nellie?"

"Why?"

"Because I feel sure your life's mission is not unlike Eva's."

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Nellie rose, and threw her arms around the old lady. "Thank you, dear Grannie," she said in a low tone. "Poor Eva! How I love her, and how I shall try to profit by her example. But, Grannie, I think you were a little hard on yourself. I know too well how easy it is to smile in other people's homes, and how hard to be even cheerful in one's own; not that I wish to say anything to Eva's discredit—she was a noble unselfish girl—but I wish to make an excuse for you. Instead of a jealous woman I see a brave, true, forgiving woman. A woman, thongh beaten back with every wave, still facing the ocean, still battling on, still finding at last the rest she richly deserved. Had I been in your place, Grannie, I shudder to think of the difference. One thing: never again could I have loved and trusted my husband, and if I thought he was adding infidelity to dissipation, I would turn from him forever, and leave him to his wallowing. It is because wives do not take enough notice of such things that so much of it is done Men, when they found their wives were queens and not cowards, would learn to respect themselves."

"That is just the point Nellie," said Mrs. Alen sadly, "I knew what I said was false. But I wanted to hurt father's feelings, and I wanted to make out a flaw in Eva's armour of purity."

"Poor Eva!" Nellie's eyes were heavy with unshed tears. "Will I ever see her? I wonder if the Chinese appreciated their precious gift."

The week flew past on the wings of the wind, and when the day arrived for her return home, Nellie could hardly believe her visit was over.

"You will come and see us again," said Mrs. Alen as she kissed her young friend good-bye.

"Yes, dear Grannie. Keep a warm corner beside Eva's in your heart for me," and smiling her bright, cheerful smile, she waved a last farewell.

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It was years before Nellie fulfilled that promise. In the meantime the old couple live on, happy and at peace. Sometimes they quarrel over their spectacles or slippers, but it always ends with "Of course, mother, you are always right!" or, "There, father, I told you so!" They are an old Scotch couple, and their accent has almost become colonized, but you have only to mention bagpipes, and they start off at once into a Highland Fling, their hob-nailed boots making the whole house shake as they stampede round the room in their endeavour to remember the dances of their early days. Mrs. Alen is not Nellie's grandmother, but she calls her so, and Mrs. Alen likes it. Their race on earth is nearly run. Eighty years sojourn in this world has left their traces on those kind old faces, and bent the once upright forms, while the old gentleman has entered into the last stage of the Sphynx's riddle, for he is compelled to use a stick. They seek not for worldly advancement; "We leave that to our sons and grandsons," they say. Priding themselves in their humility, they forget their days of ambition are past; that they, like their children's children, were left the privilege of seeking worldly advancement. Thus, from day to day, in that unruffled sphere, they live and wait for the final call. Happy couple! Would that your contentment could enter the hearts of some of your more ambitious children. In the midst of the turmoil of mental advancement, the simplicity of your lives comes like a refreshing breeze. We must leave you now, but we will return to say a final farewell. Ere we go, we thank you for your hospitality, and for the lessons you have taught. It is by listening to tales of such lives as yours that we learn to battle with our own trials, and also to take warning that we do not court those trials of our own accord. In Eva's spirit of kindly feeling we whisper, "God bless you!" May you be spared for many days to be of comfort and help to one another.