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Chapter IX.

Who is that girl, Riadan?"

"The tall girl standing beside the counter?"

"No; the one passing through the shop. She looks remarkably like someone I know."

"I dare say. She is a Miss Main."

"Main; Main. Get away, man! You don't mean Farmer Main's daughter, surely?"

"Yes. There is only one Main in Bonsby. One can hardly mistake the name." Mr. Riadan spoke coldly. He did not half like the tone of his questioner. Squatter Gould laughed, and his harsh laugh was not pleasant. He had always been a little jealous of Farmer Main's influence and prosperity. He felt humiliated in his neighbour's presence; for although the Gould station contained twice the acreage, and twice the stock, and twice the number of workmen that was contained in the Main station, yet that quiet dignity which betokens power and commands respect was denied its proprietor. It was not flattering to his vanity to be addressed as "Gould" by his servants, and to hear his rival addressed as "sir." There was some satisfaction in knowing that the proud girl who declined his wife's invitation to her garden party was earning her own living. Joanna, the haughty Miss Gould, would be pleased with the news. Mr. Riadan got an order for a new dress, to be made in the latest fashion, and no expense to be spared. Jealousy, like love, is a good thing for trade.

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"Sensible man. Farmer Main is noted for his common sense." A mocking laugh. "Women now-a-days get too little work to do, and too much time to do it in. Of course my girls are different. I intend to get them well married. They shall never require to work, thank goodness. I am taking good care of that." And the waistcoat swelled to twice its ordinary size as it felt the importance of enclosing the breast of this modern Cæsar.

"Yes," said the merchant, gravely; "this world is full of ups and downs; and if girls have to work, the sooner they begin the better. For my part I do not care to look forward to what might come to pass concerning our children. Miss Main's coming here has set me thinking."

And so it was. He who had for years been engrossed in his pounds, shillings and pence, now felt the quivering of that structure. The quiet face and large dark eyes, the firm set lips, and the resolute determination not to give in, had shown this city Croesus that wealth and prosperity were not the strongest foundations upon which man might build. The master never crossed the barrier between servant and serving, but the shopmen knew that it was as much as their situation was worth to displease Miss Main.

Squatter Gould returned home, like the evening paper, crammed full of news. His wife and children read the pleasing information, then passed it on to their friends. At the next afternoon tea it became the principal theme of conversation. It was barely commented on at the end of the week; and before the month was out it was almost forgotten. Madam Society shrugged her shoulders, and drew her pen through the name of Main, saying, "We cannot afford to waste time upon broken-down swells." And Madam's favourite daughter murmured, "Dressmakers," as she passed the quiet figure in the street. A cloud of that filthy dust, wrongly named pride, arose between them, and Madam's page 88daughter could not see her former friend. Nellie saw it all. Instinct is a safe teacher. No cloud is too thick for its penetration. Almost every day the proud girl experienced some fresh slight, some fresh cut from society's lash. As the days grew into months she became hard and cold. She deemed all the world alike; and, with curling lips and crimson check, she would pass in and out among those empty walking charnel houses, scorning the ivy-clad walls.

"Slight on, proud Society. I mock your power, for I see your vulnerable point. You will yet lie at my feet praying for admittance; but my doors shall be closed against you for ever."

The days were spent in sewing, in working; but the nights were spent in learning, in praying. Two hours were set aside for practice, and two for reading, yet it was always the early hours of morning before the books were laid down and the piano closed. Often the young student would spring to her feet, would pace the floor, would feel her heart bursting within her, and like a stricken exile would cry for release from the fetters that bound her intellect to the few feet of earth along which she journeyed; then, feeling cramped and oppressed by the walls, she would go forth to seek freedom and freshness under the open sky; there to find satisfaction in the Infinite, the Eternal, and the Unchangeable. What wonder that she learned to love man less and nature more. The girls in the workroom thought her "strange." The shopmen called her "Goody goody." Her sisters despised the spirit that would not be roused to retaliation; and her parents declared she had no energy. Yet all were mystified, and all decided that she was proud. But pride did not debar her from the confidence of her fellow-workers. Into the open vase were poured all troubles and joys: the vase was shaken; and when the offerers saw their gifts again, a word of encouragement or a smile of approval was affixed to each page 89gift. They were simple girls; a little giddy, perhaps; but that is not the worst fault girls can have. Giddy girls are seldom deceitful. It is too much trouble for them to act a deeply-laid plot, so they content themselves with the comedies. For my part, I prefer the giddy girl to her quiet sister, for the simple reason that, being of a quiet disposition myself, I know what deceit often lurks behind my apparently unselfish intentions. Of course the quiet girl has the prerogative of becoming deeper by wrestling with those feelings; then she passes beyond the limits of choice. However, the girls in question were not brilliant heroines and beautiful romance characters. They were the ordinary kind, varying a little in natures, but, on the whole, good. In their worst humours they were better than the ordinary kind of men.

Miss Main may not know much, and she may say less than she knows, but she listens, and Sezeria be praised, she is not a gossip." So they told her all about their lives; about their love affairs, their love quarrels and makes up, where they went the evening before and where they were going the evening after. What he said, and what she said, and what the world said in general. They told her what they were going to wear at the dance, and, when the dance was over, what they said during the fan flirtations. One thing was certain, if a mistake was made in their work, and if they dared not let their mistress know, they were sure to find their way over to Miss Main's table.

Was Nellie unconscious of all this? Was she really the weak, good-natured girl without any "Go" in her? You do not know the inner character. You have not seen the hidden conflicts. Those simple tributes were the rudiments of that power she longed to obtain, and was soon to wield. The smallest words were gathered up and used. "I accept all," she would cry as she marked the growing influence she was gaining over those whom she came in contact. "I accept page 90all. These are tokens of the approach of a larger sway. They are the only things that reconcile me to my lot. Oh! for power over the lives of man. For intellectual strength. Up, up the ladder I creep. The way is toilsome, but the aim is worthy. I shall not despise the ladder when I reach the top. I know not if this be ambition; if so, blessed desire, for it prompts me to rise, that I may draw all mankind with me." And so the taunting word was passed by with a shrug of contempt, and the wise critic received a sweet smile. Proudly conscious was she that society's fortress was gradually being undermined. Tasting, in imagination, the sweet flavour of the cup of revenge held toward her by the future. But of those conflicts, carried on during the quiet hours of night, when the books were laid aside, and the lamps extinguished. Creep gently. Let not your steps be heard, veil your presence, else the drooping form will be frozen into the cold proud girl of the street. Upon her knees, with bare outstretched aims, and streaming eyes, a white-robed figure kneels. The figure sways with the intensity of the emotion within; and the loose folds of the white garment across the breast rise and fall at every breath, while the white coverlet is wet with tears. To you these tears are strangers; being turned, during the day, into that vapour caused by the heat of criticism or pity. They flow freely enough in the darkness of the night. Listen:—

"My beautiful castle, whose domes and minarets reached into Heaven, whose foundation was believed to be on 'Purity's rock,' whose inhabitants were my parents, and whose superintendent myself: my beautiful castle, where are you? Oh! you need not have fallen upon me! If fall you must, why attempt to destroy me in your fall? Was I not prepared to resign every selfish desire that I might fill no higher office than that of superintendent? Shall I give up? Is the aim worth the design? Give up! Never! Not while Scotch page 91blood flows through my veins. Not while life lasts. Are a few tears now to be compared with the smiles by and by? No! Another shall be built: grander, brighter, more extensive; but God shall draw out the plans, and Jesus shall lay the foundation."

Thus the nights would pass; thus day after day would find her weaker or stronger, according to the results of the midnight conflicts; and thus at length, with a feeling of dread, she would await the approach of darkness.

Reader, you may think and say, "This is far stretched. Such characters do not exist in this nineteenth century."

I tell you it is no exaggeration to say that every word of the conflicts of this story is true; nay more, "The half was never told," and that girl lives and thanks God for the agony of those dark and dreaded hours.

It is not given to all to endure such sufferings. Neither are all subjected to the same discipline. A wise and loving Father rules the world; and who should understand children's natures better than does their parent? For some the rod is needed, for others the darkened room. But whosoever wisheth to be of service, both in this world and in the next, must submit themselves unto the discipline of their Heavenly Father. Believe me, though for a while hardness and injustice may be the impressions of the nature of that discipline, yet for eternity there will be, and there is even now—praise and power. One word to my sister or brother journeying through the same dark valley of blighted hopes. Be careful you do not miss the lessons taught by your Heavenly teacher. Pause now and then to look up into the clear sky of God's understanding; your eyes will then be removed from earth's dull clods, and you will be led over many places which otherwise you would have to walk alone. Remember God is the judge, and you are the judged; in all things he has a righteous object in view. Keep this truth as your watchword, and you page 92need fear nothing. Your steps may falter, but they will not cease; and you will have no regrets when you pass through the dark valley of trial, and step out into the light of understanding. I have fallen by not doing so. Let not my fate be the fate of others. God, in his mercy, has helped me regain my faith and trust. He has poured oil on my wounds; He has turned failures into blessings; He has again given me the kiss of forgiveness and peace. But there remains deep in my heart, a feeling of regret which neither time nor change can take away; and even now, when in the full realization of the truth, "All things work together for good to those that love Thee," I can look back and wish I had been more faithful. If through my words another may be spared like pain, gladly will I bear my regret to the grave.

One evening Nellie was seated at the piano. She felt more at peace than she had been for many many nights. The strains in her heart were in harmony with those her fingers had stirred into life; for, putting aside all discordant sounds, she had indulged herself to an evening of pure and simple melody. At first the walls of her room had reverberated again and again with the deep thunder-rolling notes of a military composition; then the sharp quick march air succeeded, to give place to the roaring of the sea; from that to glide into the soft murmuring ripple, and finally to be lost in the low mysterious echo. Yet the fingers wandered on as if in search of one task still incompleted. The sad, sweet words of Beethoven's Adieu were put into that melodious throat, and as the last farewell was said, a sound like a choking sob hushed the sadness of the strain. Unsatisfied—Unsatisfied—Nature's imitation had unfastened the door of discernment, and the soul longed to see into Nature's essence. Then from the mists of a confused purl the almost despised "Jesus loves me" arose, and, floating upward, pierced through the air that had only been disturbed by the grander strains. page 93Jesus loves me! Jesus loves me! O, the balm of those three simple words. The strains die away. The hands fall upon the lap. The fingers are still. Satisfied at last. The hard cold lines which had crept into the once bright open face are gone, and in their place a sweet dreamy tenderness. "Dear aunt, I remember. Forgive me for not recognizing you before." Closing the piano, she put out the lamp, crossed the room, and, drawing up the blind, looked out on the clear moonlight." How long you have had to wait for an answer to your prayers. Can you see me? You are happy; do you pity your lonely earth-tired niece?" Then the air became strangely disturbed. The room was filled with a muffled mysterious rushing. The inherent instinct which recognises the presence of another was stirred.—The rushing and the presence passed away; and Nellie knew she had been in contact with a spirit. "And men and women have tried by every device to evoke the spirit of their departed, and to make it speak the words and do the works of man; yet have they failed; succeeding only in so far as to make fools of themselves, and to call down the rebuke of their God. Fear a spirit? I would as soon fear God. If, through the merits of Christ my Saviour, I can stand and speak in God's presence, how dare I fear contact with spirits inferior to Him? No. I lay my hand in that of Christ's. I pledge my life to His service. I look up into His face and receive my commands. And though the angels and the spirits hover around me, they have no power to direct or lead. What wonder that God confounds the ear with complications when men seek to furnish spirits with human faculties, and to ascribe unto them attributes possessed by the Trinity alone?"

A gentle, hesitating knock was heard at the door and in answer to Nellie's "Come in," a small slight girl entered, She was surprised at the absence of light, and drew back. page 94saying, "I beg your pardon, Nellie; I did not know you were in bed."

"I am not in bed, Annie; only in the dark. Come and see what a beautiful night it is." The voice of the speaker was soft and dreamy and that sarcastic ring had vanished. The girl advanced, and side by side the two friends gazed out on the pale pure moonlight.—Serene and calm and glorious.—The sun may change in his moods during the winter months, but the moon is always the same. Winter or summer, autumn or spring; all are alike to that proud Queen of Night. Indeed, her dark sombre winter garments serve to enhance the transparency of her beauty. Scorning the films around the earth, and taking no notice of the external agitations, unconscious of the internal upheavings, this mighty monarch rides around the world, resplendent in her borrowed light. Wonder why the heathens worshipped moon and sun and stars! I almost wonder why Christians do not. Certainly had the "Unknown God," of Paul's teaching not been revealed to me I should worship the moon by night and the sun by day. They are a trifle different to wood and stone.

The change in the expression of that illegible face gave Annie Bowers courage, and she said gently,

"I heard you playing an old, old tune, Nellie. It reminded me of mother. I know this is forbidden ground," she added, half apologetically; "but I could not resist the temptation."

"Reminded you of your mother?" said Nellie, taking no notice of the insinuated excuse. "How strange! Do you know who came to see me to-night, Annie? My aunt You will think I am dreaming, but I am not. Aunt died when I was a child. I had almost forgotten her. The only recollection I have of her is in connection with the Lord's prayer, page 95She it was who taught it me. To-night, by some strange instinct, the remembrance of a gentle lady returned to my sleeping thoughts. The face I cannot see; it is hidden in her hands. But far away, in that hazy distance, kneels a silent form. A thick mist is between us; yet I recognise the outline, and I know she is praying for me." The voice died away in a soft low whisper. The room was silent and still. Outside, the moonlight waned; the gentle breeze stirred the leafy veil; the stars peered down upon the half-sleeping world; and the wise men of the east and the west, of the north and the south, took up and passed along the old old theme. Why had that privileged one neglected to enquire after the meaning of that sign? Did those wise forefathers content themselves with remaining where they were, declaring, "All will come right in the end?" No. Over hills, through valleys, across rivers they journeyed—the star their sign, their Saviour the object. Nellie, why did you not follow their example?

Nellie's voice broke the stillness, and the old hard ring had returned: "I beg your pardon, Annie. I had almost forgotten myself. Pray think no more of what I have been saying." The etherial was the terrestrial once again.

"Do you think you are kind, Nellie?" said her friend, half sadly. "There are times when I would almost kneel to you—worship you—if only you would give me a share of that 'Something' you possess; and yet you repulse my every advance with cold matter-of-fact answers. To-night something whispered 'Go,' and I came. O Nellie," the voice faltered and the eyes grew misty; "O Nellie, if you knew how I long to know of something brighter than paint and canvas, of something more lasting than worldly friendship, you would not grudge me a few simple words."

A shade of remorse flitted across the face, and the proud head bent under the just rebuke. "I have been unfaithful. page 96My own trouble has made me selfish. That which you crave is True Unchanging love. Come with me to-morrow evening, and we will get, from our Father, the thing you desire. Annie." An arm stole around the girl's waist; two dark eyes looked down beseechingly into two upturned blue ones.

"Annie, in my present mood I am not fit to speak of that Holy One; but this week the Church holds special meetings. These meetings are plain and simple, and no one can fail to understand their meaning. There you will learn what my failures prevent me from explaining."

That was all. A gentle "goodnight," an earnest kiss, and the petitioner was dismissed. Not so the petition. In the simple prayer of a humble suppliant that petition found a place. The angels bear record of a scene, the result of that earnest prayer. On the Church step, half hidden in the shadow of the high fir hedge, and enshrined in the melody of heavenly music, two girls stand and weep.

"Dear, there is joy in the presence of God to-night." A low whisper, retreating footsteps, and one girl stands alone. 'Twere better so, for in the heart's deepest agitations the nearest and the dearest of earthly friends can have no share; and those who have already passed through, know by experience the feelings of those who follow.

They are parted. Each has gone her own way, never again to meet on earth; but Nellie will never forget her friend; and often, when ministering to the wants of others, she is startled by a pleading voice, "O Nellie, I long to know of something brighter than paint and canvas." The voice she takes as a warning, and the words she uses as her guide. In their heart of hearts everyone is longing to know of something brighter than paint and canvas.