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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be6332e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69638 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69638) diff --git a/old/69638-0.txt b/old/69638-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4dd60a4..0000000 --- a/old/69638-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15634 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Nineteen hundred?, by Marianne -Farningham - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Nineteen hundred? - A forecast and a story - -Author: Marianne Farningham - -Release Date: December 26, 2022 [eBook #69638] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINETEEN HUNDRED? *** - - - - - - NINETEEN HUNDRED? - _A FORECAST AND A STORY._ - - - BY - - MARIANNE FARNINGHAM, - - _Author of “The Cathedral Shadow,” “The Clarence Family,” “Songs of - Sunshine,” &c., &c._ - - - London: - JAMES CLARKE & CO., 13 & 14, FLEET STREET. - 1892. - - - - -This little dream, of what, I hope, may be in the near future, was -dreamed several years ago, and much of it written on paper, the rest -having to wait for strength and opportunity. But, meanwhile, the spirit -of progressive love has not had to wait, and already part of my dream -has come true, for the genius of “applied Christianity” is at work, -doing what I only saw in a vision. I take this fact as an earnest that -the other good things will follow. But they will not unless it is -realised that the hope of England is in her young. And I affectionately -dedicate this forecast-story to all father-hearted men and -mother-hearted women who see in every child a treasure of priceless -value, a force of mightiest possibilities, to be redeemed for Christ _at -any cost_. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I.— Old England for Ever 1 - II.— A Sunday in the Country 8 - III.— A Sunday in London 16 - IV.— Cousin Tom 25 - V.— The Duty that is Nearest 33 - VI.— Arthur Knight’s Inheritance 45 - VII.— Mary Wythburn’s Wedding 53 - VIII.— Some Signs of the Times 63 - IX.— In the Autumn 72 - X.— In Paradise 84 - XI.— Our Parish 95 - XII.— A New Order 106 - XIII.— The Course of True Love 117 - XIV.— Defeat, or Victory? 127 - XV.— A New Emigration 137 - XVI.— Christmas Day 147 - XVII.— A Report of Progress 156 - XVIII.— Discovered 166 - XIX.— A New Minister 175 - XX.— A Tri-Coloured Crusader 179 - XXI.— A Happy Exodus 186 - XXII.— “Get On, Get Honour, Get Honest” 199 - XXIII.— A City of Homes 207 - XXIV.— A Church in Conference 216 - XXV.— Thistles or Grapes? 221 - XXVI.— His Own Way 229 - XXVII.— A Visit of Inquiry 237 - XXVIII.— “For Christ and the People!” 244 - XXIX.— Young England 252 - XXX.— Peace! 259 - XXXI.— From Darentdale to High Seathorpe 266 - XXXII.— A Letter 276 - XXXIII.— All’s Well that Ends Well 283 - XXXIV.— Was it a Dream? 292 - XXXV.— Was it Expedient? 300 - XXXVI.— For Ever After? 307 - - - - - NINETEEN HUNDRED? - - _A FORECAST AND A STORY._ - - - - - CHAPTER I. - OLD ENGLAND FOR EVER. - - -The good ship _Kenwick Castle_ lay off Madeira. Few of her passengers -cared to land, for they were homeward bound, and desired nothing so much -as to get away speedily. Neither were they as much impressed as on the -outward journey, by the soft brilliancy of the atmosphere and the -picturesque loveliness of the crimped coast of the island. The towering -peaks, the rainbow-spanned gorges and ravines, the dense foliage of the -forests, the vineyards and the plantations—made up a picture worthy of -admiration; but the eyes that looked across the waters to the white -houses of Funchal were wearying for the quiet beauty of English meadows. - -The scene between the ship and the shore was a lively one. Boats flashed -in the sun, and a clamorous company of Portuguese, Moorish, and negro -salesmen offered fruits, baskets, chairs, and ornaments of all sorts, so -that those who had forgotten to bring presents for their friends might -easily purchase them now. Swimming boys—black-skinned and -coffee-coloured—were shouting for money to be thrown into the sea to -test their diving powers, and boatmen were eager for customers. But the -captain and the crew looked only for fresh passengers, and did but wait -with dogged patience until they should arrive. - -Two young men were leaning over the side of the vessel, and watching the -boats and the shore. - -“There are passengers coming,” said one. “It would indeed be strange if -Miss Wentworth were among them.” - -“Too strange to be true, I imagine. She is probably in England.” - -“Yes. But she usually leaves Madeira about this time. I wish she might -happen to be going with us.” - -“So do I, heartily. And, look—look at the lady in the second boat. She -is very like her.” - -“How curious. It is really she. Let us see if we can help her.” - -They hurried to the gangway and welcomed with great cordiality a lady -whom everybody seemed glad to see, not a young lady, however, but a -placid, kindly-looking woman, tall and matronly, who was between fifty -and sixty years of age. She thanked the young men who had eagerly -offered their services, but she evidently did not recognise them nor -quite understand their manifest pleasure. - -“How are you, Miss Wentworth? It is good to meet you again. You have -forgotten us, I see. We came out with you six years ago in the _Drummond -Castle_. My friend is John Dallington, and I am Arthur Knight.” - -“Oh, yes, I remember! You were both sent from England to be out of the -way; because your presence at home was embarrassing.” - -“Exactly; and we have been together ever since. We have travelled nearly -all over the world; but they cannot do without us any longer in England, -so we are homeward bound, as you are. Don’t you want to know how we have -been getting along since we parted from you at the hotel yonder?” - -“I shall like to hear anything you have to tell me. You are both so -altered that I should not have known you. You have grown, I think, and -passed from youth into manhood. Six years make a great difference when -you are young. What has become of the gentleman who went to take care of -you? Is he with you still?” - -“No, he is not. We must tell you of him presently.” - -They made a pleasant-looking trio, frequently, during the three days -that sufficed to carry them to England, as, with chairs drawn together -on the deck, they talked of the past and the future. Miss Wentworth was -an interested listener. Her fifty years had made her very kindly and -sympathetic, and the motherliness of her nature rendered her the friend -of every one who came within her reach, and especially of the young. She -had been kind to the two youths, when, a little sore-hearted and -rebellious, they were outward bound, and among the things which she had -said to “hearten them up” had been one which they had not forgotten. -They were therefore the more glad to see her now that their banishment -was ended, and they were about to begin life in earnest. - -Of the two young men, though Dallington was the more handsome, Knight -was by far the more attractive. Rather taller than the average -Englishman, strong and graceful in figure, with a broad forehead, -masculine nose, firm lips, and wide chin, he was the personification of -strength and manliness; but there was something about him which told -also of great tenderness, refinement, and self-mastery. There was not a -particle of self-assertion in him, and yet he was one who would never be -overlooked, even in a crowd. When he entered a room people naturally -observed him, when he spoke everybody listened; for he had the rare gift -of magnetic influence, which seems to be possessed by only a few in a -century. - -Miss Wentworth had recognised this on her first meeting with him. She -felt sure that if he lived the world would hear of Arthur Knight, and -she was full of desire that the life so vigorous and forceful might be -altogether on the side of righteousness and truth. So wistful was she -that she could not let him go without one or two earnest words. She -believed that “the Christian is the highest type of man,” and her faith -in the power of the living Christ to draw and train disciples was great. -She had doubts of the presumption which talks to people about “their -souls,” yet she did summon courage to say to those young men, who glibly -informed her that they did not believe in the Founder of the Christian -religion, “No, for you do not need Him now; but when you do, you will -find that He is both able and willing to help you.” - -These words neither of the three had forgotten; and Knight referred to -them in one of their conversations. - -“I proved the truth of what you said, Miss Wentworth, in a very -extraordinary manner. I had not the slightest sympathy with religion in -any form. My mother died when I was about three, I can scarcely remember -her; but my father, who was a Dissenter, took me to chapel with him -always; though I never really entered into the service. I did not join -in the prayer, for I did not want the things for which the minister -asked, and the sermons never concerned me. They were for the most part -disquisitions on texts, for which I did not care, and they seemed to me -to have nothing whatever to do with the ordinary lives of the people. I -cannot remember ever hearing anything to make a false or selfish man -uncomfortable, and I could not see that those who were church members -were at all better than those who were not. And I really believed that -the whole thing was a farce.” - -“I never went as far as that,” said Dallington. “But I did not have as -much of it as my friend. We were Church people; and we had no -prayer-meetings in the vestry, nor psalm-singing at home.” - -“I had enough of it, and it was really irksome; and when I began to read -books that were opposed to Christianity I agreed with every word that -was said, and decided that as for religion there was absolutely nothing -in it.” - -“Yes?” - -“But I know now that there is. You were asking me about my old tutor. He -is dead; and it was at his death that I put your words to the test. It -was very painful. We were alone, with none but Arabs near us. He was -awfully ill; and when the thought came to him that he would probably -die, he was altogether unnerved. The fact is that he was really afraid -of what might be after death. He said to me, ‘Arthur, if there is a -hereafter I am not prepared for it.’ Then I told him what you had said.” - -At this point of the conversation John Dallington arose and walked to -the side of the vessel. - -“Mr. Knight, if you would rather not talk about it, do not tell me,” -said Miss Wentworth, in a low voice. - -“But I want you to know,” said Knight. “One cannot talk much about it; -but I ought to tell you, and I will. I had never prayed before, but then -with all my heart I called upon Jesus Christ. I asked Him, if it were -true, as so many people believed, that He was really the living Saviour, -to reveal Himself now. And He did.” - -“But your friend did not live.” - -“No; we did not ask for that. That was not what we most wanted. What we -needed was the assurance that there is SOME ONE who sees us in our -weakness and cares for our pain, and hears us when we cry. The assurance -came so certainly that I have never doubted since. Hutton grew first -calm, and then radiantly happy—as I had never seen him before. He looked -up with a wonderful light upon his face, as if he could really see what -is beyond, and he died with the name of Jesus upon his lips.” - -“I am very glad. And what of yourself?” - -“Of course, I cannot explain things. Dallington and I have received -pretty regularly from England all the books and journals which we could -get; and I know that this is a time of great doubt. I cannot answer the -questions that are asked. But”—and the young man bowed his head -reverently—“I believe in the Son of God, and I rest in His salvation.” - -Such a conversation could not be a protracted one. Miss Wentworth could -only look the sympathy and joy which she felt; and Arthur Knight walked -the length of the deck twice, and then joined his friend. When the three -met again on the following day the talk was of a less serious character. - -“I wonder,” said Miss Wentworth, “if you are going to rave against -everything English, as so many of our countrymen do?” - -“No, indeed,” replied Dallington; “I think we shall be more likely to -err in the opposite direction. I, for one, am proud of my country. I -suppose we might learn a few things from other nations, but I am very -well satisfied to be an Englishman.” - -“What are you going to do?” - -“I have an estate to look after,” said Dallington. “I am going to take -care of my mother, and find out the best way of growing fruit and corn.” - -“And I am going to help my father,” said Knight. “He is a manufacturer.” - -“But his son does not wish to be a manufacturer,” said Dallington, -significantly. “He hopes to talk the people of England round to his -ideas.” - -Knight’s face flushed almost painfully. “We cannot always alter -circumstances,” he said; “but I confess that there is to me a marvellous -fascination in a listening crowd. There is, however, no lack of orators -in England.” - -“A new man who has something to say, and knows how to say it, has always -his chance, though,” said Miss Wentworth. - -What his dreams had been by night and day the young man did not tell. He -said, “My father’s business is a large one. I have some ideas on the -subject of heads and hands, or masters and men; and hope I may have the -opportunity of putting them into practice.” - -“Oh! surely you have not been abroad to learn Socialism. We English -people are afraid of that,” said Miss Wentworth. - -“And yet many are dissatisfied with things as they are.” - -“Certainly, and they have need to be. Side by side with all the good -there are evils of which every decent person is utterly ashamed.” - -“Then why do the decent people allow them to exist?” - -“I suppose they cannot help it.” - -“But they could if they would. They have the power and the influence, if -they only had the will. Very much of the wealth, too, is in the hands of -religious people, and if only they cared, as I think they ought, the -great evils which are a disgrace to England might be stamped out in a -year.” - -“Do you really think so?” - -“I feel sure of it. Englishmen do but need to know God’s greatness and -their own, and then they could lift our country up to its name as a -Christian land.” - -Miss Wentworth laughed a little. “That would bring the Millennium much -sooner than it is expected,” she said. - -“Another Wesley is wanted, or even a non-political Gladstone, that is -all. The people are ready for the man who has an understanding of the -times.” - -It was early in the morning, just after daybreak, that the -long-looked-for homeland appeared in sight. Nobody had slept much that -night, for the thoughts of the passengers had gone on before their eyes -to the green heights of Plymouth Hoe. Yet it was not so much because of -its historical associations that it so haunted them, but because it -would give them the first glimpse of the old country. A cheer arose from -the throats of the watchers as soon as it first came in sight, and -preparations for disembarking were so rapidly completed that every one -was ready long before the land was reached. - -Arthur Knight stood with folded arms and glowing eyes looking at the -land. How he had dreamed of that moment, and prayed, “Here am I, send -me.” It was strange for a modern young man to be thinking of St. Paul -and of Peter the Hermit, but he was. He believed, as they did, that he -had received a God-inspired impulse, and that he had a message to -deliver for which there were hundreds of thousands of people waiting in -this dear native land of his. He was in a state of exaltation, tempered, -however, with deep humility. “I am not worthy, yet send me,” he said. -“Let me go to the crowded towns and the lonely villages, and tell the -people what Thou hast told me.” - -He uttered the words aloud, for no one was quite close, and the next -moment he stepped ashore, and a man came forward to greet him. “Welcome -home, Mr. Arthur. I am very glad to see you.” - -“How do you do, Hancourt? How is my father?” - -“Mr. Knight is well, sir; so am I, only I am much worried. As you said -you wished to talk to me I have taken the liberty to engage a private -compartment for the journey to London,” said the man. - -“Very good. When does the train start?” - -“Almost immediately. Can I look after your luggage?” - -Knight at once took leave of his travelling companions. “My father’s -chief business manager has come to meet me at my request,” he said, “and -we travel together. Good-bye, Dallington, and thank you for everything, -old fellow. Hope you will find your Margaret unchanged. I should be -sorry to think we had come to the end of the story. Remember, we are but -beginning it.” - -“I will not forget,” answered Dallington. - -“Good-bye, Miss Wentworth. I am glad to have your address. You will be -sure to hear from me.” - -When they were in the carriage, Knight and Hancourt looked steadfastly -at each other before either spoke, and each noted the changes which the -years had made. - -“How is Mrs. Hancourt? And how are your children?” asked Knight. - -“They are very well, thank you. Mr. Arthur, I am not sure that I ought -to have met you, for there have been many changes in the last few -months, and I am no longer in your father’s employment.” - -“How is that? I thought my father could not do without you.” - -“You are wanted at home, sir. Mr. Knight has become a universal -manufacturer, and has an enormous business, or a dozen businesses, and -employs thousands of hands. He has been for the last few years making -money fast; but as fast as he has got rich his workpeople have got poor, -and that is not right, Mr. Arthur.” - -“You must take care what you say of my father, Hancourt.” - -“Very good, sir. I am out of the concern, so it is nothing to me; but I -hope you will let me tell you what is in my heart.” - -“Go on, then.” - -“Lately, indeed almost ever since you went away, the master has been -cutting things very close and underselling everybody, and to do that he -has used the commonest material, and has frequently lowered the wages of -his hands. Many things which go across the sea are not worth the cost of -carriage; they are just put together to look well and that is all. I -think it is a great pity, and I ventured to say so to Mr. Knight, -because he will lose his customers, and the business will go down as -quickly as it went up if he does not change his method. But Mr. Knight -told me he did not care for that. He thinks it is no business of his -that other English manufacturers will be suspected because he has got -England a bad name, but I think it ought to be, and that such conduct is -unpatriotic. But excuse me, Mr. Arthur, I can’t help getting warm over -it. I want to ask you, however, if you will not try and bring about a -better state of things?” - -Arthur felt as if a stone had been given him when he asked for bread. -Could it be that this and not that was his duty? How should he give up -his cherished ideas, and the work to which he honestly believed himself -called, and come down to business? - -Hancourt broke in upon his musings. “You see, sir, I am one of the -people, and know what it is to work for starvation wages, and so I -thought I would try and enlist your sympathy.” - -“What are you doing yourself?” - -“Nothing, sir, and I have a wife and two children. But I am afraid I -have spoiled your home-coming.” - -Indeed, he had. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - A SUNDAY IN THE COUNTRY. - - -The door of the manor house was open, and the owner stood on the step -looking across green fields and sloping hills. Both the man and the -house were worthy of attention. The man was a strong, straight young -Englishman of twenty-three years, a little above the average height, -with a face full of health and intelligence, a mouth and chin that -showed strength and firmness, grey eyes full of kindliness, and a -well-shaped head covered with crisp, brown hair. The house was an -old-fashioned English homestead, unpretentious, but substantial, and -with an air about it of comfort and plenty. It was the sort of house -always associated in our minds with the pictures of rural life which -emigrants keep in their hearts, and painters put on the canvas. - -The young man standing in the doorway was thinking not of the house, but -of the view that was visible from it; and, in truth, it was a very -pleasant one. The garden at his feet was ample and well kept, and -already the spring flowers were making it beautiful. Around the outside -there were shrubs of many kinds, and beyond them the home close looked -green and sunny, while further still a little stream rippled and sang, -and woods and fields made the landscape fair. John Dallington was by no -means an emotional man, but his heart beat quickly as he looked across -the fertile English lands that had been his father’s, and were now his -own. He had never experienced the land-hunger that some people know; but -if he had he could scarcely have felt a greater sense of satisfaction -than that which filled him now. - -“To think that so fair a piece of this wonderful little England is -really mine, to have and hold, and do as I please with!” he thought. “I -have seen nothing so peaceful and picturesque in all my wanderings. It -is indeed good to be at home.” - -And he felt this all the more because his absence had been a long one. -More than six years had passed since on a cold, wet morning he had -parted from his mother, and turned his back upon his home. It was better -so he thought then, and it was his conviction still. But the memory was -rather a painful one, though it came to him on a Sunday morning, when -everything seemed glad, and the contrast between the present and the -past was most striking. - -John Dallington lost his father when he was between sixteen and -seventeen years old. He had only just left school, and was beginning to -learn the best way to farm land when his father died unexpectedly and -suddenly. In his will he left everything to his wife, constituting her -sole executrix, with power to make any arrangements or alterations she -pleased until their child was of an age to assume the control of the -estate. The lad loved his mother, and proudly endeavoured to take his -place as her natural companion and protector. But when, less than a year -after his father’s death, she married Mr. Daniel Hunter, everything -became changed. John and his step-father disliked each other from the -first, and the youth felt as an interloper in his home. There were a few -stormy scenes between the two, the mother always taking sides with her -husband; and then John made his mother so angry, by some hot words, -which he uttered respecting a young lady in Darentdale whom she -disliked, that she decided to send him away from home forthwith, and -from that time until the previous evening the heir had not seen his -home. But he never forgot what his future position was to be, and had -spent considerable time in study, and in examination of agricultural -plans as followed in the different countries which he visited. He was, -therefore, not altogether unready for his new duties. But he had been in -no hurry to return and take them upon himself. Even when his lawyer’s -letter reminded him that he had attained his majority, and requested him -to come home and claim his rights, he did not do so; and it was not -until his mother wrote informing him that she was a second time a widow, -and needed him, that he started on his journey. - -While waiting for his mother on this, his first Sunday in England, his -thoughts were full of kindliness toward her—“Poor little mother, it must -be hard for her to be twice a widow. I wonder if Hunter really made her -happy, and if she cared very much for him. I shall never be able to -understand how it was that she married him—a man not fit to hold a -candle to my father, and with scarcely a particle of his high principle -and goodness! How could she do it? But it is strange to me if she has -not had to suffer for it, and she certainly looks ill and miserable. It -cannot be because she loved him. I hope he was good to her. In any case -I will be. No woman can help liking to have her son with her, and I will -try to make up to her for the trouble she has had.” - -At that moment the sound of the bells came across the field, and John -remembered that there was a mile to walk to church. - -“Mother, it is time to start. Are you ready?” he cried, and she came -immediately—a small figure, short and slight, but very dignified, and -covered from head to foot in crape. - -“What a shrouded up little mother it is!” he said tenderly, “and how -uncomfortable you must be. Can you breathe at all under that thick -thing?” - -“Oh, yes. It is not so thick as it looks.” - -“I am glad to hear it. I don’t like the crape fashion in the very least. -It is a shame to cover up your face when it looks so pretty with the -grey hair above it.” - -“Ah, you must see a great change in me, John. My hair has got very grey -during the last two years, and my sight is failing me too. I am quite -the old woman already.” - -“Not at all! Besides, you will be getting young again presently. You -must wear glasses; they are an improvement to most people. And as for -grey hair, what does that matter? Everybody knows that it means many -things besides old age.” - -“I am old, though, older than my years.” - -“Poor little mother; you have had plenty to make you so; but you will -soon feel better. Is not this a beautiful morning! And you cannot guess -how glad I am to be at home with you. I used to read some poetry when I -was away about ‘England’s primrose meadow paths,’ and try to remember -what they looked like. It is a very agreeable change to see them. This -is a cosy little wood.” - -They were wending their way through the spinney, and the scent of the -spring flowers was very sweet. The air, too, was full of music, for the -birds were singing, and the chiming of the bells came nearer with every -step they took. Now and then a thrush or blackbird sang to them as they -passed, a squirrel sprang among the trees, and the rabbits scuttled -across the path. The whole scene was so peaceful and lovely that John -Dallington felt like taking his hat off in instinctive reverence for the -beauty by which he was surrounded. He did not want to talk, and his -mother seemed equally willing to be silent. Indeed, the finest sermon -that could have been preached to the young man was finding its way into -his heart as he walked toward the church that morning. - -But when they emerged from the wood, and after crossing a meadow reached -the high road, his thoughts were at once interrupted. The village of -Darentdale was only a small one, and every individual in it knew that -the young squire had come home to claim his own. There had been much -talking of neighbours about him, and the liveliest interest was excited -by his appearance. As he and his mother passed the scattered houses, -faces peeped from the windows, and doors were softly opened to enable -the occupants of the cottages to have a longer look at Mrs. Hunter and -her son. Every one who passed glanced at the young man’s face, with an -expression first of curiosity, and then of confidence and pleasure. In -these days the villagers are not too much given to the “old-fashioned -practice of saluting their betters”: they do not think that they have -any; but on this Sunday morning all the women seemed inclined to -remember their manners of the old style, and there was not a man who did -not touch or raise his hat as they passed. It was all very agreeable to -John Dallington, and the genial, hearty way in which he returned each -salutation had the effect of at once favourably impressing his -neighbours. - -“He’ll do, won’t he? Eh!” said a man who was leaning over his garden -gate. - -“Oh, ah! he’ll do fine,” replied another, taking his pipe from his mouth -for a moment. “He’s growed into a very likely lad, has he, and we shall -do better with him nor we did with t’other.” - -“That’s my ’pinion also. He looks like a fine young Englishman, though -he have been a-living in foreign parts.” - -“He’ll do, and that’s my verdict.” - -John Dallington was looking at the villagers with an interest scarcely -less keen than that with which they regarded him. He knew more about -them than might be imagined. Newspapers, magazines, reviews, and other -floating literature dealing with the questions of the day had been -regularly transmitted to him during his absence, and he was, therefore, -well acquainted with things as they were. He had read of bad harvests in -England while lingering among the cornfields of America; and “the bitter -cry” of London had reached him in New Zealand. Perhaps, as he looked at -these subjects from a distance, and studied them very impartially by the -aid of both Liberal and Conservative journals, he was as able to decide -concerning them as those who had remained upon the scene. In any case, -with the usual sanguine confidence of youth, he quite believed he was; -and had already fully made up his mind in regard to his course of -action. One of the first things he meant to do next morning was to go -over the estate and “see to things,” especially keeping his eyes open to -the needs of the cottage tenants on the farm. - -“John, this is rather a trying ordeal,” said Mrs. Hunter, as they -entered the churchyard. “Everybody seems to be looking at us.” - -“Never mind, mother; they are looking very kindly. And here is Emerson, -appearing not a day older than when I went away. I suppose he is as good -as ever. He used to work as hard and live on as little as if he were the -curate instead of the vicar. How strange it will feel to be in the old -pew once more.” - -The next minute they had taken their places; and as the last strokes of -the bells died away the sounds of the organ were heard; and John knelt -as he used to kneel when a little boy at his mother’s side, to join in -the General Confession, and listen to the Absolution. - -John Dallington had frequently availed himself of the opportunities -afforded him in distant lands of attending religious services, but he -never joined more heartily in the prayers than he did on this occasion. -They expressed exactly what he felt, and the grand old Psalms and the -_Te Deum_ filled the little old Darentdale church with strains that were -sweeter to his ears than any that he had heard in the grand cathedrals -of the Continent. But now his heart was full of peace and goodwill, and -he was in the mood to enjoy anything. How could he help wishing to be -good when he had so much for which to be thankful? We hear plenty of -talk about the salutary effects of sorrow, but is not joy salutary too? -It is the miserable who are the most tempted to wickedness. If there -were only more happiness in the world, it is almost certain that there -would be more goodness also. - -The services at Darentdale church were never unnecessarily lengthened, -and before long the congregation was filing out. Most people waited to -give some sort of respectful greeting to Mrs. Hunter and her son. -Considerable sympathy was felt for the widow, though very little -affection had been manifested toward her late husband, and the villagers -managed to let the lady feel this. - -“Things are looking very much the same, mother. I miss one or two of the -older people, and some of the boys and girls have grown up like myself; -but, on the whole, there is little change. How are the Dissenters -getting on? Are there any more chapels built?” - -“Oh, yes; one or two Methodists, besides the old Baptist and the -Salvation Army.” - -“I must turn into one of them this evening, and see how things look -there!” - -“I hope you will not take to chapel going!” - -“Why not, mother?” laughed John. “It is a rule of mine to go everywhere, -and see everything that I can. And it has answered very well, too. I -assure you that one sometimes gets splendidly entertained in most -unlikely places.” - -“I hope you will not seek entertainment there, at all events; though, of -course, you must do as you like now.” Mrs. Hunter accompanied the last -clause with a significant sigh of resignation. - -“That is a privilege you have always given me,” he answered, gently, -“and I hope it has done me no harm. But here we are in the wood again. -Mother, haven’t you heard people say that they love the very ground they -tread on? That is how I feel to-day. I wonder how it is that we all have -such a regard for land.” - -“Because of what it brings forth, I suppose.” - -“I scarcely think that accounts for it altogether. Of course, as the -land is such a marvellous producer of wealth, it is only right and -natural that it should be respected and well-treated. But it is no -thought of crops that makes me like to look at it to-day.” - -“That is as well, perhaps,” said Mrs. Hunter, grimly, “for he who sets -his heart upon crops in these days is likely to become heart-broken.” - -“I know they have been very poor for several seasons.” - -“They have been utterly and wholly disappointing failures. I can tell -you, John, that you have been spared an immense amount of worry by your -residence abroad. Rain has come when we wanted it dry, and drought when -we needed rain. Summers have had no sunshine, and winters no snow. This -last winter, indeed, has been more like the old-fashioned kind; so, -perhaps, the tide of misfortune is turning, and we may hope for better -things. I should like one change which I suppose I shall not live to -see, and that is the reduction of the present high rate of wages paid to -agricultural labourers.” - -“High wages do you call them? What do you think you could do with an -income of sixteen shillings a week, mother?” - -“Now, John, you need not speak so indignantly. I trust you have not -imbibed any of those socialistic notions that seem to be prevalent. It -will be so much the worse for you if you have, for you will find that -the wages are higher than you can afford to pay; and besides, the men -are neither better nor happier for receiving them.” - -“I am not a Socialist,” said John, and then a diversion occurred. - -“Why, who is this? Old Benham, isn’t it? Then he is still at work about -the place. How are you, George?” - -“I’m hearty, thank you, Master John, sir, and how’s yourself? How you -have altered to be sure; but I knowed it was you when I seed you going -down the lane this morning. And how did you like them furrin parts, -sir?” - -“Oh, I liked them very much; but there’s no place like home.” - -“Werry true, sir, and I’m glad you think so, and it’s a beautiful -morning to welcome you back. We’re a going to have a better season this -year, Mr. John, you take my word for it. When that ’ere tree in the -holler is covered in leaves by the fifteenth of April we allus gets a -good summer. I’ve noticed it, bless yer heart, hundreds of times.” - -“Have you though?” said John, laughingly. “I should not have thought it. -You really look young for your years.” - -Benham did not understand where the joke was, but he saw that he must -have said a good thing, and laughed too. “And I hope it _will_ be a good -season,” he added, “since it’s the first in your home, and we be all -glad, every man and boy on the estate, as you’ve come into your own, and -long may you enjoy it.” - -It was all very pleasant to John Dallington, who would not soon forget -the first Sunday spent in his own place. In the afternoon he walked -across the fields where the young corn was springing, and into the woods -where bursting buds and merry songs were eloquent of spring. The delight -of possession was very keen within him, and it, perhaps, more than -anything else, made this sunny Sunday in the country to be for ever a -delightful memory with him. - -In the evening he did as he had said he would, and attended the service -at one of the Darentdale chapels. There, as at the church, he was -recognised, and cordially welcomed. There was something in the young -man’s appearance that bespoke for him the universal favour of his kind. -His eyes were so frank and clear, the smile upon his lips was so cheery -and real, the tones of his voice were so hearty, that people trusted him -and liked him at once. His presence at the chapel doors excited the -liveliest approbation. Was the young squire a Dissenter? If so, then -good times were coming for the little “cause” at Darentdale. - -“Very glad to see you, sir,” was the welcome given to him by one of the -principal men in the place, whose duty it was to conduct strangers to -their seats. He had not very much of this work to do, for few strangers -came to Darentdale, and fewer still to the chapel; and so he was fain to -open the pew doors for the regular attendants, and, with a bow and a -smile, fasten them in their own rented domicile of the Sabbath. But now -there was a chance to distinguish himself, and the air with which John -Dallington was marshalled up the aisle and into the best square pew at -the top was exceedingly impressive. - -John looked about him for a moment with a little curiosity. He had never -been into the place before, and he was surprised to see the numbers -crowding the body of the chapel and pressing forward in the gallery. The -fact of their presence was in itself sufficient to cause him to feel -respect for the service, for John Dallington had not yet grown to think -that he was right and everybody else wrong, and he entertained a -profound reverence for anything that could influence numbers of people. -He saw a plain-looking building, with uncomfortable pews, each securely -buttoned, and each filled with persons. He saw a pulpit, rather more -uncomfortable-looking than the pews, which a man with benevolent face -and white hair presently entered, and was also shut in. And he saw, -immediately under the pulpit, a large pool of water. He did not, as -probably many young men would have done, promise himself some fun out of -the entertainment. He had too much veneration in his composition for -that. He had felt no inclination to laugh at the use made of water in -the churches of the Continental cities which he had visited, and it must -be confessed that he had seen nothing to sigh over either. It was -evident that the people were sincere and attached some significance to -the act, and that was enough for him. It was with precisely the same -placid toleration that he looked at the baptistery in Darentdale Chapel. -And, although he wondered how any one could prefer it to that which he -attended in the morning, it was not with a feeling of indifference that -the young man regarded the service. His whole being was susceptible to -all the influences of that day, and he felt some stirring of heart when -the people sang together their hymn of praise. The sermon was not a bad -piece of oratory; the speaker knew his subject and handled it -courageously, and as it proceeded John began to understand that the pool -of water was not an ordinary adjunct to the service, but that he was -about to witness the rite peculiar to the Baptist denomination. - -His attention was held throughout; but when the minister had descended -from the pulpit and was standing by the water, his heart gave a great -bound. A girl who had been sitting in one of the pews, and whose face -had been hidden from him by other people, quietly went to the side of -the pool. “Margaret does look lovely to-night,” whispered some one -behind him; and the next moment the girl lifted her eyes, luminous with -some mysterious exultation, and they met his own. What happened after -that he scarcely knew. As soon as he could he left the place and started -across the fields to his home. - -“It was no use sending me away,” he said. “The boy’s love is living yet. -Margaret, Margaret, have you forgotten? I never shall forget, and you -are all the world to me still.” - -But he looked and felt much more troubled than glad as he thus uttered -his thought. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - A SUNDAY IN LONDON. - - -To be in London at any time is an experience that is worth having; for -all good things seem to tend to this wonderful city, which is the very -heart of the world! What might of power and influence it possesses! What -vivid life of all kinds exists in it! Some people say it is not -beautiful as Paris, Brussels, and other cities are; but they are surely -mistaken. It has a beauty and a homeliness that is all its own. No parks -are more green; no streets are more interesting. To Arthur Knight, as he -drove from West to East on his arrival, it seemed to him the fairest, as -it was certainly the dearest, of all the world. The trouble that had -been put into his mind by Hancourt, though a very personal one, could -not absorb his thoughts as he looked upon his fellow-countrymen in the -crowded thoroughfares. “If London were Christian, there would be hope of -the whole world,” he said; and his was the dream of how many devout -souls beside! With his strong heart full of the enthusiasm of youth, he -did not for a moment consider the dream to be impossible of realisation. -And with the same buoyant hopefulness he thought that something which he -had to say would hasten that consummation. He passed by the dwellings of -the rich, and, measuring others by himself, he peopled them with young -men who were ready to live or die in the true service of their country. -He believed that the time had come for the new aristocracy to assert -itself—the aristocracy of character and helpfulness—the nobility of the -future, whose destiny it is to rule the world with righteousness. “This -little island ought to be full of friends,” he said, echoing the thought -of one of England’s greatest teachers. But when he reached the East-end -the awful contrasts of the metropolis impressed and saddened him. - -It was in this part of London that Arthur Knight’s home was. Mr. Knight, -senior, had not followed the fashion, and sought out a suburban -residence. He preferred to live near his works, and could not bring -himself to believe that a railway ride every morning and evening would -be a saving of time, or strength, or money. He lived in an old house, -surrounded by a moderately large garden, in which, however, few things -flourished but shrubs. All around the garden was a high wall, which -completely shut the place out of sight; so that, but for the noise, one -might have fancied himself miles away from the great city. Not only was -the house an ancient one, but the furniture in it was sombre and -old-fashioned. It was not a home-like house, for no woman presided over -it; only a couple of servants kept it in something like order, and -carried out the wishes of the master. A child’s voice was never heard -making music in it, and few guests ever entered it. If people wanted to -see the owner, they generally sought him at his office, because there -they were the most likely to find him; and no one had come to the house -by invitation for several years. There were rooms enough in it to -accommodate a large family, but Mr. Knight had lived in it, after his -son went away, in complete solitude. He had often felt sorry that he had -sent the lad from him in anger, and had not more patiently tried to bend -the young will to his own; but the anger had died away now, and he had -begun to acknowledge that he felt lonely. - -It was on Saturday evening that Arthur passed through the -well-remembered gateway. His heart beat rapidly as he entered the house, -and when he took his father’s hand in his a great wave of tender feeling -swept over him. His father was all that he had in the world. Mother, -brothers, sister-all were gone, and he had not yet found any one on whom -he could set his heart. But he owed everything to his father, and he -resolved that it should go hardly with him indeed but that he would -prove a loyal and helpful son now that he had at last recalled him. The -old man trembled as he met him. He was as much altered as Arthur -himself, and he looked as if the years had dealt far less kindly with -him than they had with his son. Arthur could see that the meeting was -trying his father exceedingly, and during the evening he did his best to -keep the conversation on commonplace topics. - -But after breakfast the next morning he could feel that something was -coming. The church bells were chiming in all directions, and the young -man’s heart was drawn towards the quiet and restfulness which he knew -might be reached in a few minutes. But his father wanted him, and he -thought his duty was with him. - -“We may as well have a talk about things, Arthur,” he said. “I suppose -you don’t care about going out? I have given up my sittings in -Queen-street. I used to do a great deal for the place, as you know; but -latterly they had a man whom I could not get on with. He insulted me, -and I don’t take an insult twice from the same person. He told me that I -did not subscribe enough money, and I was not going to stand such -impertinence from anybody. I always thought the Nonconformist places of -worship were maintained on the voluntary principle, but I don’t call it -voluntary when a man tries to bully you out of your money.” - -“No, indeed. I wish the question of money had not to come so much to the -front.” - -“I have saved the money that religion used to cost me, that is all.” - -“Could you not have gone to some other church?” asked Arthur, gravely. -He could not answer his father’s chuckle with a laugh. - -“Of course I could! There were enough to choose from; but I know they -are all alike in one respect—they are all greedy and grasping for -money.” - -“It seems that nothing can be carried on without it.” - -“Then let those who like such things pay for them.” - -Arthur was amazed. His father was indeed changed since those old Sundays -which he remembered so well, when he had been taken to prayer-meeting, -Sunday-school, and service from early morning until late at night. He -wondered curiously how many orthodox sermons his father must have heard, -and what had been the good of them all to him. - -“Trade is bad,” said the old man, after a pause. - -“Is it? I am sorry to hear that.” - -“I hope it will not give out just yet, because I have not done all upon -which I have set my heart. I have had some heavy losses, too, and these -are the things that eat into a man’s life. But, still, I have not done -badly after all, and I may as well tell you at once.” - -Here he stopped, as if he would arouse his son’s curiosity; but Arthur -only waited in courteous deference until his father chose to say the -next thing. And it was rather long in coming. - -“Arthur!” - -“Yes, father?” - -“I am almost a millionaire!” - -“Father!” - -“Really and truly, if I am spared a few years longer, and a kind -Providence smiles on me still, I should not wonder if you prove to be -the heir to a million of money.” - -Arthur stared at his father, who had spoken the last words, as indeed -they deserved to be spoken, in tones that were as solemn as they were -triumphant. - -“A million?” he echoed. - -“That is between ourselves, of course. Nobody else knows exactly, and -most people would scarcely believe me if I were to tell them.” And Mr. -Knight leaned back in his chair, and laughed softly. - -Arthur did not laugh; and presently his father glanced keenly at him. - -“Well, my son, what do you think of that?” - -“I think it is an enormous fortune, and that great responsibility -attaches to it.” - -In fact, his thoughts were so busy that he scarcely knew what to say. It -seemed to him that many of his dreams might almost at once become -accomplished facts. More than enough money would be his to set in action -the beneficent schemes which, night and day, had haunted him during the -last two years. And what was there to prevent him from spending his life -in his own chosen way? The business indeed? Surely the right thing would -be to retire from it altogether. And yet,—_would_ that be right or best? -Arthur Knight hungered for people; and here in his father’s employ were -several thousands of them. Nay, he would not send all these adrift, -since, in a sense, he would inherit them as well as his father’s -fortune. - -He arose from his seat in excitement, and paced the room, his father, in -the meantime, scrutinising him closely. - -“Arthur, I wonder if you have much business capacity?” he said, -presently. “It is harder than ever now to make money. Competition is so -keen and the price of labour is so great that one must be clever to make -headway now.” - -“But you have made your headway, father.” - -“Oh! I have not done nearly all that I want to do. Arthur,” said the old -man, suddenly, “if you had your own way, and were perfectly free to -choose, what would you like to do?” - -“I am going to try to help you.” - -“Please to answer my question, sir.” - -“A young man has his dreams generally, I suppose. I should like to talk -to the people.” - -A very impatient grunt met this assertion. - -“Do you mean that you would like to be a parson?” - -“Not exactly; but don’t you think it would be a good plan if men of -means gave themselves to the work of the Church, so that all the money -raised could go to beneficent purposes, instead of the people having to -consider the minister’s salary? However, I do not feel that I ought to -be a minister.” - -“A Member of Parliament, Arthur? That you might very well be. There’s a -wretched set of muffs in Parliament now. They ought to interfere in some -matters more than they do.” - -“It is a good thing that the markets of the world are open to us,” said -Arthur. “I wish, though, that some of our merchants were a little more -patriotic. They are sending out such worthless goods that they are -getting a bad name for England.” - -“That is not their fault, but the fault of the foreign dealers who are -crying out for cheap things, and will always buy at the least price. A -man must in self-defence put inferior articles in circulation if people -will not give the good price for the good thing.” - -“But he might meet the difficulty by taking less profit for himself.” - -“Why in the world should he? He has himself to look after. He offers the -articles that are asked for at a price which the people are willing to -give. What more can be expected of him?” - -Arthur resolved to use caution in the disclosure of his thoughts on the -subject. For the next hour he kept his father amused with tales of his -adventures. - -Later, Mr. Knight again brought business forward; and the day of rest -was to Arthur a very different one from that for which he longed. - -They were still talking together when an unexpected diversion arose. - -The gate which formed the only entrance to the grounds of Brent House -was always kept locked, and could only be opened from the inside. There -was a ring at the bell, and when the boy unlocked it three men -immediately stepped inside. While the porter was asking their business, -one of them again opened the gate, and a dozen other men pressed in. Mr. -Knight and Arthur were endeavouring to discover what it all meant, and -they saw that a great crowd was in the street. The frightened porter -came breathlessly into the room. - -“If you please, sir, here are men who say they are a deputation, and -they come on very particular business.” - -“Tell them to take their particular business away, then, as fast as they -can.” - -The boy went out with the message, and soon came again. - -“They say they are your workmen, sir, and what they have to say concerns -you very much. And they say they are not going until they have had their -talk with you.” - -“Oh, that’s it, is it? Set the dog on them.” - -Arthur rose hastily. - -“May I see them, father? They seem respectful and quiet enough. Let me -hear what they have to say.” - -“No, Arthur; I would rather you keep out of it. Would you let them tell -you what they want if you were me?” - -“Yes, I certainly would.” - -Mr. Knight threw up the window. - -“Now, then, you fellows, what is the meaning of this?” - -A man who was in the front touched his cap and cleared his throat, and -began a short speech. - -“Beg pardon sir, but we are come to lay our case before you, man to man. -We have been given to understand that the factory in Chislehurst-street -belongs to you, though it is carried on in the name of Woolton and -Company. We are all employed at that factory; and we are not satisfied -with the wages. We want a rise, sir, begging your pardon.” - -“And so do we,” said another man, in tones that were far less -respectful. “We find that a good many of them works at the back of -Stepton belong to you; and it is impossible for a man to keep his family -respectable on the wages you give. We’re going to strike and demand -better pay, and we have come here to-day to give you notice to that -effect.” - -“Yes, we have,” began another, but Mr. Knight angrily stopped him. - -“If you don’t clear out of this directly I will have you all arrested -for trespass,” he said. “And you are very much mistaken if you think -this is the way to get what you want. If you have a case, lay it before -the man from whose hands you take your money, and approach me through -him.” - -A scornful laugh broke in here, and several voices said, “A lot of good -that would do!” - -“But I may as well tell you now you are here,” continued Mr. Knight, -“that this is no time to ask for higher wages. Trade is bad, and the -manufacturers are not getting the money they ought. If you don’t like to -take the wages you can leave them. I could get your places filled -to-morrow, and with better men than you. So go about your business. And -remember, you are marked men. I shall know your faces again, and you -needn’t be surprised if you get notice to quit.” - -“Please to understand, sir,” said the first speaker, “that we come as a -deputation. Pretty well all your men are at the back of us. And we was -to tell you that we would give you a week to consider it. We shall be -glad to state our grievances to you, and also to mention the terms we -think fair, if you will appoint an interview. Our Union will back us, -and we don’t mean to go on in the old way, and so we give you notice.” - -Mr. Knight closed his window, and again ordered his servant to set the -dog loose; but the men quietly withdrew, pulling the gate to behind -them, not, however, before the owner of the house and his son had -another glimpse of the waiting crowd outside. - -Mr. Knight was in a rage. “What do you think of that for a piece of -impertinence?” he asked. - -“How much can the men earn, father?” - -“Oh, different sums. Nobody has less than fifteen shillings a week.” - -“I should hope not. That is very little for a man who has a family.” - -“Well, the family is no business of mine. I don’t employ more men than I -can help. I like women and boys better. A woman is well off if she gets -ten shillings a week, and she does as much work as a man will do for a -pound.” - -“Have you ever thought what a fair and right thing it would be to give -your workpeople a share in your profits? You know that both individuals -and companies have tried the plan, and found it answer. A man who has a -stake in the concern will be more likely to do his best, and to work -economically and diligently, than one who has no share in it.” - -“What nonsense, Arthur! They do have a share in the profits when they -get their wages, don’t they?” - -It was inevitable that Arthur, being a young man, should look at things -differently from the old one—young men always do. But he was sensible -enough to be held in check by the reflection that his father had—what he -certainly had not—experience. This made him resolve to be careful of his -words, and only to speak when an opportunity had been given him to prove -things. He knew, however, that sooner or later he would have to tell his -father what his own views were, which he would certainly put into force -if he had the opportunity, because he thought it quite possible that -when his father was informed he would take care that his business should -be put in other hands. Arthur believed that wealth, whether inherited or -won, was a trust to be used for others. - -“It seems to me,” he said, “that their share is often not a fair one. -For instance, if I have invented an article which meets the needs or -tastes of my customers, I have the right to what of financial good it -brings if I can make the article with my own hands; but if I have to -employ other hands they ought to have a much larger share than usually -they do. And if I am getting rich, I ought not to lay more and more by, -unless I give those who help me to get rich more and more. The fact is, -father, that a Christian man may not do what others may. He cannot be -selfish, and keep all the good things that come in his way; he must help -others, and try to find his joy in that. You know money is no real good -to a man. He can only eat as much, and drink as much, and wear as many -clothes as others. But if he scatter his wealth, and make a hundred or a -thousand families better off because he is rich, that seems to me -splendid, and the lot of that man must be the best in the world.” - -Arthur glanced at his father as he finished. His words had a curious -effect upon the old man. He was bitterly disappointed, and yet, as he -listened to his son, he was conscious of a feeling that was more like -pride and gratification than anger. - -“So those are your views, are they?” he said. “I am very glad you have -told me what I have to expect. But I am not going to quarrel with you -to-day. I will think what is the next best thing to do. Would you not -like a walk? I am going to be busy for an hour or two.” - -Arthur gladly went forth to mingle for a little in the life of the -metropolis. It was not much like Sunday down in the East-end of the -great city, where the stalls were in the streets, and the shops were -open, and there was a great tumult among the people who were buying and -selling, arguing and quarrelling, and, above all, drinking and smoking. -Places of worship enough there were to contain them all, but few -appeared to recognise the Father’s house, or to care to enter it. The -noise of London seemed to surge round the churches and chapels, which -are like harbours of refuge in the stormy sea—only, most of the people -preferred to be out on the waters rather than within the calm. Centres -of influence and helpful service were these, every one of them. If the -ministers and the members did not work together with those of other -churches, they had each their own set of workers, all honestly -endeavouring to meet, in the way they thought best, the needs of the -neighbourhood. Many stories of heroism and self-denial could be told of -those who were consecrating their life to this East-end work, and -labouring on, through good report and evil report, often with scant -success to encourage them. A few of the people were lifted up and out of -the mass of wickedness; but so few that they seemed to make little -difference, for the streets were as terrible as ever. Still bad language -shocked the ears of those who did not live amongst it; still drunkenness -and cruelty appeared to flourish more than anything beside. And on this -day the men and women who talked together in angry voices in some of the -most densely-populated places were more fierce than usual because one of -their favourite public-houses had lately been closed. Arthur Knight was -shocked and pained with what he saw and heard, but he was not rendered -hopeless and despairing. “They ought never to have been suffered to get -into this state,” he thought. “Nearly all these men and women were once -in the Sunday-school. How is it that they were let to slip away from -those who were their best friends? But the hope of the future is with -the young. The present generation of the young must be secured somehow.” -And as he half-uttered aloud these words he passed a large hall filled -with boys and girls listening delightedly to a man whom he half-envied, -such power had his eloquence over them. Then he thought of the latest -developments of Christian endeavour, and his heart leaped with joy as he -remembered that he could now become associated in these and other -services to humanity, so well and wisely rendered in modern times; and -it was with a happy assurance that he went home, for the words that were -upon his lips was a prophecy in process of fulfilment: “The kingdoms of -this world _shall become_ the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - COUSIN TOM. - - -“Mother, how is Cousin Tom?” - -John Dallington had been enjoying a ride over his farm before breakfast, -and had returned, as he said, with an enormous appetite. The morning was -delightful, and the sweet scent of the early spring flowers came in at -the open window as he spoke. Mrs. Hunter assumed a listening attitude, -and then replied, “If I am not mistaken, Tom is coming to answer for -herself.” - -The next moment John was at the door, and in time to assist his cousin -to alight from her horse; but she was by his side before he could quite -reach her. This lady with the incongruous name, “Tom Whitwell,” was the -youngest daughter of Henry Whitwell, Esq., of Hornby Hall, the father of -eleven daughters and no son. Mr. Whitwell had waited very anxiously for -the son who did not come; and when the eleventh daughter was announced, -he declared that he did not wish to look at her. But meeting the -disappointed gaze of his wife he relented. - -“Never mind, wife,” he said, “we will make the best of the bad bargain. -This last comer shall have a boy’s name, and a boy’s education, and, as -far as possible, a boy’s portion. She shall be called Tom, after my -father.” - -Mrs. Whitwell suggested a compromise, and the baby was eventually named -Thomasine Grace Whitwell. But she had always been called Tom, and to -please her father she had endeavoured to live up to her name. She early -learned to ride and row and play cricket. Her brown hair was cut short -and parted on one side, and she wore the most gentlemanly hats, jackets, -collars, boots, and gloves that could be bought. She cultivated the -lower notes of her voice, and when asked to sing professed herself “only -able to do bass.” She was fond of mathematics and science, and -considered herself a very logical reasoner. She was a doughty defender -of women, but a merciless critic of their weaknesses. She tried to look -at things from a man’s standpoint, and laughed at the pleasures and -pursuits of her own sex. But she did not do this when one of her -friends, Margaret Miller, was near, for Margaret had a way of smiling -quietly, and saying, “There is no more womanly woman living, really, at -heart, you know, than little Tom Whitwell.” - -John Dallington thought that she looked as fresh as the morning; her -clear grey eyes were bright with pleasure; and as she glanced into her -cousin’s face her cheeks glowed, and she was a vision of health and -happiness that quite delighted him. Tom had always been a favourite with -John, and he was unfeignedly glad to see her now. - -“You have really got back, John! And how well you look!” - -“So do you, Tom; and not a day older than when I went away.” - -“Oh, thank you! You have grown polite, I find. I cannot return the -compliment, for you look about ten years older.” - -“Do I indeed? I am glad of that. I want to be old, to inspire you all -with respect. Will you have some breakfast, Tom?” - -“If I do, it will be the third this morning. The air makes one hungry. -How do you like England, John?” - -“I like it very much. I have been long enough away to make me think the -old country charming.” - -“‘No place like home,’ and all that sort of thing, I suppose?” - -“Oh, yes! And ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ and all that sort -of thing. You look splendid, Tom; and I do believe you have grown. Would -not you like to see the places I have seen?” - -“I would, indeed. You have been everywhere, haven’t you? And I have been -staying in England all the time. It is well to be you, John.” - -“That is precisely my opinion. But I have seen nothing more beautiful -than the view from this window.” - -“Really?” - -“And truly. Of course I have seen many places a thousand times more -magnificent, but none more lovely and picturesque. The world altogether -is very beautiful, Tom. You come upon proofs of it in unexpected places. -There are countries that everybody visits for the sake of their -mountains or their rivers, or some special features of interest; but -those less known are not the least lovely, and I have frequently enjoyed -most when I have expected nothing.” - -“It is not a very happy world, though, John.” - -“I think it is! What has given you that idea?” - -“Oh, everything! I have seen two persons this morning, one a woman and -one a child, both poor and both suffering. And the doctors are of no -use. John, do you know I mean to be a doctor myself?” - -“Indeed?” laughed John. “Well, it may be desirable. The human race is -increasing at too rapid a rate. Some parts of England are inconveniently -crowded, and even the colonies are getting overstocked; so that anything -which helps to thin the population will not be an unmixed evil. Taking -all things into consideration, I do not know a less objectionable method -of augmenting the death-rate than appointing a considerable number of -lady-doctors. And there is no reason in the world why you should not be -one of them.” - -“You know nothing about the matter, or you would not talk so flippantly. -When are you coming to Hornby? Father would like to see you soon, and so -would my sisters.” - -“Perhaps I can ride back with you. You will not return yet, I suppose?” - -Before Tom could answer a dog-cart drove up to the door, and the faces -of both ladies flushed and looked confused. - -“Whom have we here?” asked John with interest. - -“That is my stepson,” replied his mother shortly. - -The visitor entered, and was introduced as Mr. William Hunter. John -Dallington was kindly disposed, but he did not like his mother’s -stepson, who came in with a very free-and-easy air, only removing a big -cigar from his mouth to enable him to speak. - -“How do, Dallington? Congratulate you, I’m sure. Good morning, mother. -How are you, Miss Whitwell? Feel myself fortunate in meeting you.” - -The new-comer threw himself into a chair and continued to smoke his -cigar. This irritated Dallington, who was not a smoker, and disliked the -habit in others. The coolness of the man who could behave so rudely in -the presence of ladies annoyed him. “Do you dislike the smoke?” he asked -of his cousin. - -Mr. Hunter laughed. “Miss Whitwell is probably herself a smoker,” he -said. “She is too sensible a lady to set herself against smoking, for -that would be to set men against her.” - -Tom flushed violently. “It is scarcely worth while to contradict you,” -she said. - -Mrs. Hunter interposed with some remarks upon the weather; she was -extremely anxious that the two young men should be friends, but she had -some misgivings, for she could not but know that her son and son-in-law -were of very opposite natures, and that their tastes, therefore, were -not likely to be the same. John Dallington, however, was too much -interested in his cousin to give a second thought to William Hunter. -“Will you come into the garden, Tom?” he said. “I have forgotten the -names of some of the English flowers, and you must remind me of them.” - -“I do so dislike that man,” she said, as soon as they were on the -outside of the house. “He is a most unpleasant person, and not good -either. Do not have much to do with him, John; and you must remember -that you are master, and assert yourself accordingly.” - -“I hope he will behave himself.” - -“I do not think he knows how.” - -“We must give him a few lessons. But never mind him now, Tom. Tell me -about yourself and everybody. What have you been doing all this long -time? Have you got yourself engaged yet?” - -“Not I, indeed. There has been far too much to do. I have been making -myself a practical farmer, and I am great on lands and soils and crops; -so if you are at a loss, consult your cousin.” - -“Thank you; I will with pleasure, for I am sure that I have very much to -learn.” - -“And I am sure that farming was never so difficult as now. Father often -looks worried, though he keeps wonderfully well, on the whole.” - -“I am glad of that. I want to see him. I shall have plenty to do, I -find. I have actually already had an invitation to a wedding.” - -“Mary Wythburn’s, I suppose? You must accept it, John. I am to be one of -the bridesmaids, and many of your old friends will be there.” - -“Give me a few names. First, the bridegroom: who is he?” - -“Alfred Greenholme is the bridegroom, Dr. Stapleton the groomsman, and -the vicar, Mr. Sherborne, will also be present as a friend. The other -bridesmaids are Hilda Copeland and Margaret Miller.” - -Tom glanced at her cousin as she uttered the last name, and saw that his -countenance brightened. - -“How is Miss Miller, Tom? Are you as good friends as ever?” - -“Yes, we are good friends, and Margaret is very well. Which are the -flowers whose names you have forgotten?” - -“I am afraid we have passed them. Let us go back and look for them. I -hope Alfred Greenholme is not as a man what he was as a boy, or Miss -Wythburn is little to be congratulated.” - -“She does not congratulate herself. In fact, I know that she is -wretched. There is nothing very tangible against Mr. Greenholme. He is a -lazy, self-pleasing, good-natured man; but girls of these days—some of -them, at all events—want more than that. Mary Wythburn is a very clever -girl, and far-seeing, too. She denounces such people as Mr. Greenholme. -Like Mrs. Booth, she gets into a furious mood when she sees hosts of -poor wretches starving, because they cannot get remunerative work to do, -while men and women in good circumstances—professing Christianity, -too—seem to have not a thought in life excepting that which touches -their own pleasure. She thinks that if we are real Christians we cannot, -and ought not, to be happy while so many are miserable, and I agree with -her.” - -“I often think the same. But she ought not to marry Greenholme if she -feels like that. And the invitations are out?” - -“Yes; so I suppose the wedding will take place. But I shall not quite -believe it until I see her married. John, there are hundreds, if not -thousands, of the best people in England who are absolutely weary of -things as they are; and they are growing determined to change them, too. -You have come home in time to help. We only want one or two men of -genius and grace to show us the way. I believe the way is not through -the giving of alms, for the money given to the poor every winter is -enormous—besides special magnificent gifts for special purposes—and yet -things are little better for it all.” - -“Tom, have you been surreptitiously in correspondence with my old -comrade, Arthur Knight?” - -“Who and what is Arthur Knight? He has a good name.” - -“Has he not? And he is a true knight, too—a splendid fellow, and great -on this subject. He says things need not be another year as they are; -and declares that it only requires a long pull, and a strong pull, and a -pull altogether to accomplish such a revolution as shall crown England -with truer glory than she has ever known before.” - -“I expect it is a revolution that we want. There has been a great deal -of pottering, but the right thing has yet to be done. John, I must be -going. Will you order my horse?” - -“Yes, and ride with you. It will be like old times.” - -They had a delightful ride, and almost forgot that they were not boy and -girl together. They went the longest way round, and yet reached their -destination sooner than they wished. - -Hornby Hall was an old-fashioned manor house—large, substantial, and -comfortable—standing in its own grounds, and itself covering -considerable space. It was built in the Gothic style, and had any number -of large, low rooms, with thick walls, and ample chimney-corners and -enticing window seats. - -The master, “a fine old English gentleman,” came forward to greet his -nephew with much cordiality, and John Dallington felt proud of his -uncle, as well he might, for he was an upright man, who could not do a -mean thing, stately in form and spotless in character, a magistrate, a -member of the County Council, a man whose name was respected through the -whole province, whose keen grey eyes seemed to see everything, whose -courteous bearing delighted everybody, who was beloved and honoured by -the poor and admired and trusted by the rich; a man without reproach, -whose glory was not in what he had, but in what he was. It was a -privilege to be related to him, as Dallington felt. - -“Welcome home, my boy,” he said, kindly. “I am glad you have come into -your own, and that we shall see something of you again. I wish you -health and happiness for your new life. Come in, and be made much of by -your aunt and cousins; they are not all such forward things as Tom, but -they will be just as glad to see you.” - -And indeed they appeared to be, and seemed bent on spoiling the returned -wanderer, who might have been a veritable prodigal son, so eager were -they to lavish the best of everything upon him. - -John spent some very pleasant hours that day at Hornby Hall, hearing the -news and telling stories of his own experiences. His cousins were merry -girls, quick at repartee, and full of good-humoured fun. Some of them -were married, but there were quite enough of them at home to fill the -old house with pleasant sights and sounds. - -In the afternoon Mr. Whitwell took his nephew over the farm and showed -him the improvements he had made during his absence. “You must see my -model cottages, John,” he said. “The old places were falling into -dis-repair, and were not very comfortable to live in; but you will be -pleased with these, I think.” - -“These are scarcely like the old style of agricultural cottages.” - -“No; are they? But the old style of thing will not do in these days. You -see they have large gardens. I am not a Radical, you know, John, but a -steady-going Conservative; and that is how it is that I have come to see -what a shame it is for a man to work on a farm, and have spacious fields -and meadows all around him, and yet not have a patch of ground large -enough to grow a bed of cabbages or a few potatoes to call his own. -Monstrous, when you come to think of it!” - -“Yes, so it is,” assented Dallington; “but I should not have thought -that such ideas on your part were the outcome of Conservatism.” - -“Would you not? I am happy to say that most of the old Tories of my -acquaintance have come to have the same opinion as I.” - -“I am glad to hear it. I shall have to do something to my own cottages, -I expect. Why, you have actually planted these gardens with fruit -trees.” - -“Oh, yes! It does not do to expect too much from my tenants. If they -take care of the trees, and train them and eat the fruit, it is as much -as one has a right to look for.” - -“They are very pretty cottages.” - -“I am glad you like them. And they are convenient. They have rooms -enough, and they are not too small. At one time a man was satisfied with -a four-roomed cottage, no matter how many sons and daughters he had; but -all that has passed away before a better education, thank God!” - -“The gardens look well kept.” - -“They are; and they provide vegetables enough to last the whole year. -The people are all right, you know, if they have fruit and vegetables, -corn and milk.” - -“Have you raised the rents?” - -“No; nor yet the wages. The men are quite alive to the value of the -house and garden. But come and look at the crops.” - -The estate was, as John knew, strictly entailed. At Mr. Whitwell’s death -it would pass away from his family of girls to the next heir, who was -his brother’s son. But all the same for that, indeed, partly because of -it, the squire of Hornby was scrupulously anxious to do the very best he -could for the property. The farm buildings were either new or kept in -perfect repair. He was careful not to impoverish any of the land, but by -all the means which modern science had made possible he nursed it for -the heir as carefully as if he had been his son. The said heir was a -young man of whom his uncle did not approve, and, vain as it was, he -could not keep the wish from his mind that, since he had no sons of his -own, John Dallington had been the next in succession. - -It was late in the day when John left to go home, accompanied part of -the way by three of his cousins. Tom did not go, but she stood at the -window watching until they were out of sight. Then her father called her -into the library, where the two were often together hard at work for -many hours. - -“It is too late for those accounts, Tom, I’m afraid.” - -“I think it is, father. They can wait until to-morrow, cannot they?” - -“Oh, yes! Very well. John has become a fine young fellow, hasn’t he?” - -“Yes; I think he is very much improved. I wonder if he has seen his -lawyer?” - -“Ah, poor fellow! No; he has not seen him yet. If he had he would not be -as light-hearted as he is. I think his father did not treat him quite -fairly. The lad ought to have been told how things were. And then it was -too hard for Dallington to leave so much power in his wife’s hands. She -has made things a good deal worse for John. He will find it as much as -he can do to hold his own.” - -“I suppose he can sell part of his land?” - -“Yes, if he can get anybody to buy it. But land does not now fetch the -price it ought, and farming is not what it used to be.” - -Tom was silent for some minutes, and her face became first red and then -pale. - -She wanted to say something to her father. Generally she thought aloud -in his presence, such good friends were they; but she needed more -courage than she had now. - -At last she rose and stood beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder, -and turning her face so that he could not see it. - -“Father,” she said, trying to steady her voice and speak in her ordinary -tones, “do you remember promising me that I should have that mortgage, -or whatever it is, for my portion?” - -“Of course I do.” - -“May I have the papers and keep them in my possession now?” - -“Why, what do you want them for, Tom? What possible good could they do -you?” - -“No good at all, only I should like them.” - -Mr. Whitwell hesitated. - -“Do you think you are quite capable of taking care of them? They are -worth three thousand pounds, you know.” - -“Yes; I do not forget their value. You are not afraid to trust me, -father, are you?” - -“I trust you with everything, Tom, as you know.” - -But Mr. Whitwell said no more; and Tom waited. - -Presently she sighed, and pressed her lips to her father’s cheek. “Never -mind,” she said, “if you would rather not. I am sure you know best what -is right and wise.” - -Mr. Whitwell arose, unlocked a safe, and took from it a parchment. - -“Here it is,” he said. “Take care of it, and I think it will be prudent -of you to give it back into my charge when you have looked it through.” - -Tom took the paper without a word, and her father did not notice how -pale she was. She kissed him, and, going swiftly to her own room, locked -the parchment in a drawer. - -But that night she took it out and read it through, every word. Then a -strange expression came over her face, and she folded up the parchment, -muttering, “If only I dared! If only I dared!” and held it above the -flame of the candle, so near that it began to be scorched. And then she -opened it, and spread it on the bed, and fell on her knees to pray, but -burst instead into a flood of tears. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE DUTY THAT IS NEAREST. - - -Arthur Knight scarcely knew whether pleasure or pain predominated in his -mind during the first days which he spent at home. London interested him -intensely. The vivid life, the untiring resolution, the concentrated -energy of the people amazed and delighted him. And when he saw all that -was being done to further the cause of righteousness, he was as proud of -his country as an Englishman ought to be. But that which had presented -itself to his mind as the blot upon the picture, when he contemplated it -from a distance, filled him with as much wonder and sadness when he was -on the spot. Since his people could do so much, why did they not do -more? They had conquered so many worlds; why did they not conquer their -own? Were they as great as they used to be? Were they not rather afraid -of being great? What was it that dominated most of the individuals that -made up a London crowd? It needed very little discernment to discover -that the one great desire of the people was _to get on_—not to get _up_, -or to rise higher in intelligence or character, but to be able to pay a -pound or two more of rent, and a longer bill at the tailor’s, or -grocer’s, or milliner’s. Certainly there was nothing great, but -everything that was infinitesimally little, in such an ambition as that! -But he knew—a traveller in all lands must always know—that simple living -brings as much happiness as luxurious fare, and he believed that if the -spell could be broken, and the people who were so eager to get on that -they had not time to think of other things could once get the fashion -changed, they would rise to their own capabilities, and, completely -changing their standpoint, would become really great in character and -achievement. And he believed that the time for this was coming. - -The first ten days of Arthur’s return were very memorable ones. - -One of the incidents that ever afterward remained in his memory was that -of his first attempt to speak to English people of that which was in his -heart. He was passing down the City-road when he noticed that men were -rapidly entering the historical Wesley Chapel. He went into the -building, and found that a Conference of Christian men had been called -to consider whether means could not be taken beforehand to prevent the -misery which every recurring winter brought to the East-end of London. -It was felt by the conveners of the meeting that it would be a wise step -to prepare for the inevitable, and that the appalling distress might be -to a great extent prevented if good arrangements were made in time. - -Arthur Knight knew that the Wesleyans had been moving forward for a -considerable period. He knew, too, that the last few years had seen the -Salvation Army and other organisations making extraordinary endeavours -to stem the tide of misery and sin, and that, indeed, every department -of the Christian Church was working for this end, with much personal -effort, and by means of enormous sums of money both specially and -annually contributed. But the disappointing thing was that so little -difference seemed to have been made by it all. The world of London was -scarcely better. Still men cursed God and died. Still there were cases -of death from starvation and cold; even in the last winter thousands of -men were unemployed, while drunkenness, cruelty and sin seemed as strong -as ever. - -The speakers at the meeting referred to this in tones of disappointment -and sorrow. They could not but thank God for what had been done; but -they felt that the work was piecemeal and inefficient. A paper was read -suggesting some new methods of raising money, and indicating some fresh -methods of service, and then the meeting was thrown open, and any one -who had anything to say which could be said in five minutes was invited -to say it. - -This was Arthur Knight’s opportunity. He waited until several persons -had spoken, and then he sent up his name, and made his five minutes’ -speech. - -“Much that we wish for could be accomplished in a single year, in one -way,” he said. “Christian brothers, let us be heroic for Christ’s sake! -Let us join our forces and work together. We have our differences and -divisions, and these are the things that weaken us. How long shall we -ourselves hinder the fulfilment of our Lord’s prayer, ‘That they all may -be one, that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me.’ If we were -to lift up the white flag of truce and fight under it, every Christian -man, shoulder to shoulder, the battle of peace and righteousness could -be won. These things that you deplore need not exist another year. -England is so small, and, therefore, so manageable. It is mapped out -into parishes and into Parliamentary divisions. You have no difficulty -in getting into contact with every man when you want his vote. Your -School Board officers know the number and age of every child in the -kingdom. It will be easy, therefore, for a committee of church members -to ascertain the circumstances of every individual around the centre of -a church or chapel. Gentlemen, nearly two-thirds of the entire -population of England are members of some Christian church; the money, -the intelligence, the influence, the character, the ability of the -nation are mostly among these two-thirds. What of the other third? Do -you believe that we are powerless to deal with it—two to one, and more? -Why, we are strong enough to see that every man has work to do, and -every man does it, that the idle shall be forced to labour, that the -inefficient shall be taught, that the sick shall be nursed and the -children fed, that our ships shall be laden with good things only, that -our people shall not be drunken, that another language than that of -swearing and blasphemy shall be heard in our streets, that cruelty and -vice shall hide their heads. Sirs, we are the masters in England; why, -then, do we allow the things which shame us to exist? Only because we -are craven and selfish, and small when we ought to be great; only -because we care more for our denominations, and our party, and our own -personal ease than for Christ and righteousness. Shall we change all -this? You are able. Are you willing and ready? Will you, sons of Wesley, -who occupy the middle position between the Church of England and -Nonconformity, lead the way?” - -Cries of “Yes, yes!” greeted this appeal, and when Knight sat down many -rose to their feet to echo his words. Later they called for him to speak -again; but it was found that he had left, and he did not know till -afterwards what was the result of his first speech. - -His heart was beating rapidly as he went forth into the London streets. -He had only uttered a part of his convictions, but he was thankful to -have had the opportunity to do that. He crossed over, and stood for a -few minutes among the graves of Bunhill Fields, and saw the names of the -brave men who had done the work which God gave them to do; and he vowed -that he would lose no chance of using his voice, whenever and wherever -he could, for he longed to see the Church united in the work which was -so evidently waiting to be done. - -But he had much to engross him in his own and his father’s affairs. He -spent some hours of every day in the office, endeavouring to grasp the -real state of things there, and finding much to make him sad. His father -was very disinclined to give way to the men; and one of those -much-to-be-regretted labour disputes seemed inevitable. The men appeared -to have very little power, really, to secure that which they wanted. -Crowds of unemployed were always ready to step into vacant places. For -one situation there would be fifty applicants, and this made it possible -for masters to be to some extent independent of the men, notwithstanding -the trades unions. And there had arisen an antiunionist association -composed of men who helped each other and fought for each other, and who -were now numerically strong enough to resist the trades union men who in -a strike tried to keep them out of wharves, docks, and factories. Mr. -Knight, finding that women and boys could do his work as well as men, -and for less wages, had in his employ many thousands of these, and this -was a grievance of which the men bitterly complained. It happened in an -enormous number of cases that men were idling about, and drinking, while -their wives were employed at factories, in consequence of which the -homes were wretched, and the children sorely neglected. There were, -indeed, a hundred wrongs that called for reform, and a crying need of -some one with a clear head and a kindly Christian heart to put matters -straight. - -Arthur Knight knew from the first day that he spent in his father’s -office that under existing conditions it was no place for him. He would -not, he simply could not, for the sake of all the wealth of the world, -so do violence to his conscience, and slay all that was best in him, as -to continue to sell goods that were next to worthless, and keep -thousands of families on the verge of starvation, while he was getting -richer every year. So much he settled with himself once for all, -although he equally resolved to have no rupture with his father. - -He was troubled at the signs of seething discontent and unrest which -were visible; and he succeeded in winning a promise from his father that -he would consider one or two suggestions that he made. He had mentioned -Hancourt, and although Mr. Knight would not promise to reinstate him, he -commissioned his son to visit him for the purpose of discovering whether -he would return if an offer were made him, and, accordingly, on Saturday -afternoon, Arthur made his way to Hancourt’s residence. He was not at -home, but as his wife expected him shortly, he waited. - -Mrs. Hancourt was a good-looking woman, with a pleasant face, and with -lady-like manners. The home was the picture of neatness and comfort, and -it was evident that its mistress was a person of refined tastes and -habits. The arrangements of the house were artistic even, and there was -a warmth and homeliness about them which were to Arthur very attractive. -And Mrs. Hancourt could talk well. She had read books, and thought about -them. She had ideas of her own, and a happy way of expressing them. She -was a good listener, too, and anxious to learn; and a very delightful -half-hour was passed by Arthur, who felt as if he had found a little -haven of refuge after a sea of trouble. Mrs. Hancourt had two beautiful -children—the one, a boy between seven and eight; the other, a girl -between five and six. A lovely picture they made, standing together and -looking through their blue eyes into Arthur’s face with the frank -fearlessness which characterises English children. They came very -demurely to shake hands with Arthur, and the little girl, whom they -called Sissie, lifted her pretty face to be kissed, and was perfectly -willing to sit upon his knee, and to be told about little girls whose -faces were black. But after a time, when the conversation became -uninteresting, she said, “I like you, Mr. Arthur—you are a nice man; but -I like my brother best. Please set me down.” And the children were soon -happily at play together by the window. After a time Mrs. Hancourt was -called away, and Arthur took a book, and appeared to be engrossed by it. -In reality, he was being greatly entertained by the little ones. - -“Now, Sissie, you are a prisoner, you know; the giant has locked you up, -but I am a knight coming to deliver you. Look at me through the back of -the chair—that is a strong iron gate, a fortress. I shall climb over the -bars of the gate, and mount the tower, and pick you up, and carry you -off, and make you my wife.” - -“And then shall I crown you with flowers?” - -“Oh, yes, of course! Knights are always crowned with flowers.” - -“Are they the crowns they wear in heaven, Geoff? Jane told me we should -all be crowned in heaven.” - -“I don’t think they are flowers—they are gold crowns they have there.” - -“Are the gold crowns heavy?” - -“I suppose so; gold is the heaviest metal, I know, for I learnt that in -my lesson book.” - -“Oh, then, how their heads must ache! But perhaps they haven’t any heads -in heaven.” - -“Sissie, how foolish! Of course they have heads, or how could they be -crowned?” - -The girl was silent a little after that, but presently she said, -musingly, “I’m so afraid I shall forget—and I don’t want to forget—but I -can’t quite remember what heaven was like.” - -“Sissie, what do you mean? Why, you never were in heaven!” - -“Oh, yes, Geoff! I was in heaven before I came here.” - -“What nonsense! I’m sure you have never been in heaven, at all.” - -“Haven’t I? Then where was I?” - -Geoff was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he said, “I think it -was like this: God thought He would like to have a little Sissie, so He -said, ‘Let there be Sissie!’ and there was Sissie.” - -“Yes; I suppose that was it. Geoffrey, say a little bit of the ‘Fairy -Queen.’” - -Geoff repeated a few lines which he had been taught, but his sister -interrupted him. - -“Geoff, where is the Fairy Queen now?” - -“In heaven, I expect,” was the answer. - -“How long has she been there?” - -“Most all the time, I should think. You know, Sissie, our Lord was in -the grave three days; but common people like the Fairy Queen have to -stay longer—I should think about a fortnight or three weeks.” - -Here the conversation abruptly terminated, for Arthur Knight burst into -a laugh so loud and startling that the children were quite disconcerted. - -“I am so sorry, but I really could not help it,” he said. And then the -door opened, and Mr. Hancourt entered, looking very pale and anxious. - -“Oh, Mr. Arthur,” he said, “I am sorry to see you here. I hoped you were -at home. I am afraid there will be a riot this evening. The men who are -disappointed are swearing that they will seek your father and compel him -to listen to them. Indeed, they are talking very foolishly and wildly -about revenge, and all that sort of thing.” - -“Your money or your life, I suppose?” - -“Exactly. It is a great pity that Mr. Knight lives so near the works. -Most people reside a long way from their places of business, somewhere -in the country, where their men cannot find them; but Mr. Knight has not -chosen to do this, and as the men know where to find him they are going -to march to his house. And they talk about having a band, and I am -afraid they have a great many sympathisers and friends.” - -“I came to ask you if you could give me any advice, or say what can be -done.” - -“I am afraid it is too late to do anything.” - -“In any case I must hasten home and stand by my father. Will you come -with me?” - -As soon as a cab could be procured they drove away, telling the driver -to make all possible speed. - -But the crowd reached Brent House before them, and it was a more ugly -crowd than that of the week before. As Hancourt and Arthur entered the -gate, Mr. Knight showed himself at the window, and this was a signal for -all sorts of cries and execrations. - -“Give us our rights!” “Hypocrite!” “Robber!” “Tyrant!” “Live and let -live, can’t you?” “Do as you’d be done by, or it will be the worse for -you!” “What did you turn Hancourt away for?” “And Hamilton?” “And -Allen?” “Better men than you are!” These and worse things were shouted -by the crowd, which presented a very threatening aspect. - -“Come into the house,” said Arthur to Hancourt. “We can get in by the -side door.” - -“No; I will not come in. I will be among the men, and see if they will -hear reason, while you go to your father.” - -Arthur found Mr. Knight greatly excited. - -“I wanted you to go for the police,” he said. “But I have sent for them, -and they will be here soon. The wretches! I did not expect them to-day. -I meant to have had the place guarded to-morrow, but they have stolen a -march upon me. And yet I cannot think how they got in. Those stupid -servants must have undone the gate for them. What a horrible noise they -are making! But they are only bringing worse things upon themselves.” - -“Father,” said Arthur, “it is a pity to have all this fuss if we can -help it. You are going to let me have a voice in the business, are you -not? And I will tell them so, and that there will be two of us to -consider their claims and grievances.” - -Before Mr. Knight could answer he threw open the window, and his clear -voice rang through the crowd. “Men,” he said, “I want you to give us a -little time——” A stone was thrown at him, which struck his head and -knocked him down. - -It was not the first time that a messenger of peace had been -misunderstood and ill-treated. Arthur thought at the moment of other -peacemakers, and he kept his temper. - -He rose to his feet, and, with the blood streaming from his head, he -again faced the people. “The man who threw that stone does not know me,” -he said, “or he would not have thrown it. I am Arthur Knight——” - -“Oh, yes! the man who threw the stone knew that,” shouted a voice. - -“I am going to help my father in his business, and I promise you that I -will try to see that justice is done, both to him and to you. If your -grievances are real they shall be removed, as far as I am able to -arrange things; and if your claims are reasonable and just they shall be -met—if possible. I cannot tell how far you are right. I know you are not -at all right in coming here to make a commotion, and calling names and -throwing stones—all this is unmanly and unworthy of you—but you may -think that you have some excuse, and I will hear all you have to say -about it if you choose three men, and let them meet me on Monday evening -at eight o’clock in the office. Will you?” - -“Yes, sir!” The words came in a great shout. The effect of Arthur’s -little speech had been marvellous. Where was its power? In the words or -in the man? These questions were to be often asked in the future. - -“And what are we to do on Monday morning?” some one asked. - -“What are you to do? Why, go to work, to be sure, if you want your -wages. Don’t strike, don’t lose time. You cannot afford that as well as -we can, you know. Be in your places on Monday morning, and do your best -for us, and I promise you that I will do my best for you.” - -How was it that they all believed him? They certainly did. There was not -a man who doubted. - -“Three cheers for the young governor!” said one, and a hearty hurrah was -raised. - -“Thank you,” said Arthur, when the noise ceased, “I shall be glad now to -see how much or how little I am hurt.” - -“Sorry you are hurt at all, sir,” said one. “Now then, mates, clear out! -The youngster looks faintish like.” - -They vanished speedily, and then as Arthur turned from the window he -wondered where his father was, and what he would say to him. He was not -in the room, but Hancourt was there, holding by the collar a pale, -unkempt youth, who looked considerably crestfallen and frightened. - -“This is the fellow who threw a stone at you, Mr. Arthur. His name is -Jones. As there was no policeman near I arrested him myself. I suppose -now that there is little need of their services the police will soon be -coming, and I will keep this fellow until I can give him into custody.” - -“Bring him into my room, and turn the key upon us both.” - -Tea had been set on the table, some cold chicken, pie, cake, and toast. - -“Come and have some,” said Arthur to his prisoner. “You look hungry, and -it is tea-time.” - -The lad could not keep his eyes from wandering to that well-spread -table. He was hungry, certainly, for he had scarcely tasted food that -day; but he did not think he was so far gone as to eat the food of the -man whom he had struck with a stone. - -“Now then,” said Arthur, “why don’t you begin? You know it will be some -time before they give you anything to eat at the police-station. You had -better get a meal while you have the chance.” As he spoke he was tying a -handkerchief around his head. - -“I wish that stone hadn’t hit you,” said the youth. - -“Oh, yes! I am sure you do, because it was a cowardly thing to throw it, -and no man likes to be a coward. I will cut you some chicken.” - -A well-filled plate was put before the young man, who really could not -resist it; and if he could have got rid of the lump in his throat he -would have greatly enjoyed it, for such bread, such ham, and such -chicken he had never tasted before. - -“Will you have a glass of milk?” said Arthur, pouring it out. “I am not -going to give you into custody, though a whole army of police should -come to take you, because, as you say, you did not mean to hurt me.” - -“Thank you, kindly, sir, I’m sure.” - -Arthur Knight let the young man go on with his meal in comfort, and then -he began to question him. - -“Now, which workshop are you in?” - -“I ain’t in no workshop at all, sir.” - -“What do you do then?” - -“Oh! I do odd jobs, and earn a sixpence here and there.” - -“I suppose you work for my father?” - -“What say, sir?” - -“You work for Mr. Knight, don’t you?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Then what in the world are you here for if the quarrel is none of -yours?” - -“I seed the men coming, and as there was a row on I thought I’d come -too.” - -“Ah! there are plenty of lads about like you, I suppose? I have heard of -you. Such as you do most of the mischief that is done, don’t you?” - -“That’s about it, sir,” said the lad, grinning as if he thought it was a -very fine thing, though that expression changed to one of shame when -Arthur looked at him steadily. - -“There is not much gain to be got out of such a life as that, you know,” -said Arthur, gravely. “It is not anything to be proud of really, is it? -I think it is a pity for a strong, likely lad such as you are to take up -with that sort of thing. I wouldn’t if I were you. I call it a waste of -good power, because you are sharp enough to make your way in the world -if you will only set about it in the right fashion.” - -“I ain’t got nobody to show me the way, nor I ain’t got nobody to help -me.” - -“Oh, yes, you have! You’ve got me, and I shall be very glad to help you. -I will find some work for you, and if you don’t know how to do it, you -shall be taught, and put in the way of earning an honest living. Will -you do your best?” - -The lad hesitated. He really felt that he was giving up a great deal. -The prospect which Arthur held out was not very alluring. He and his -companions considered that “earning an honest living” was far too slow a -thing for them. But somewhere under his ragged waistcoat the lad had a -heart, and Arthur had found his way to it, as to so many more of the -same kind. - -“Yes, I will, sir!”—the words were spoken quite solemnly—“I will, -indeed, sir, to make up for hurting of ye.” - -“Very good! Shake hands upon it.” - -The steady tramp of the policemen’s feet was heard in the grounds, and -Arthur opened the door. Hancourt came forward. - -“Where is the boy?” he asked. - -“Oh, the boy is all right! I am not going to give him into custody; and, -Hancourt, will you tell those fellows that things are quiet, and send -them about their business? If they see me with my head bandaged, I -suppose they will think they ought to do something, and there is nothing -for them to do.” - -Arthur was getting anxious. He had no doubt that his father would be -angry with him; but he had done what he felt sure was the only right -thing to do, and he was not without hope that he would bring his father -to his way of thinking. But he was desirous of getting it over as soon -as possible, and he rang the bell and inquired of the servant if she -knew where Mr. Knight was. She replied that she had heard him go into -the library and shut the door some time ago. - -Arthur went at once to the room and knocked. There was no response. He -opened the door, and found the room empty. Then he went to his father’s -bedroom, and found it locked. “Father!” he called, but there was no -answer. He listened a moment, and then, with all the force of his strong -young frame, he burst open the door, and saw what he feared to see—his -father lying on the floor in a state of unconsciousness! - -No time was lost, and two doctors were speedily on the spot; but they -were able to do very little for the stricken man. They did not pronounce -the case hopeless; they said it was possible that there might be partial -recovery, but even that was improbable. They feared it was the beginning -of the end, and the end might be not far off. - -Arthur Knight was profoundly grieved. The love for his father—which had -always been in his heart, though for years it had been restrained—was -warm and strong now, as he sat by the bedside of the unconscious man, -and he forgot everything but that he was his father, and had always been -generous and kind to him. How he wished he had come home before! A flood -of compassion filled his heart as he pictured the lonely man in the -solitary house, melancholy and bitter. How joyless his life must have -been! He seemed to have had little to comfort him but the one fact of -his commercial success; and there must have been many times when that -failed, and he was altogether comfortless. So far as the world judged -him he was an honourable man. His life had been pure from many of the -vices of the age, and as Arthur thought over these things he wished with -all his heart that he might recover, if only to find comfort in his son. -But there seemed little hope of that. The doctors looked more grave at -each visit, and made no secret of their conviction that the days of Mr. -Knight were numbered. - -So Arthur had a son’s sacred duty to perform in nursing and watching his -father, his heart full of sorrow that he could not do more for him. He -was very tender and affectionate; and half hoping that some of his words -might pierce through the cloud over him, he told him of his love, and -uttered slowly and impressively those good words of the wonderful Book -which tell of a Father’s love and a Saviour’s power. Arthur could not -feel afraid to trust the dying man to the compassionate Christ. He did -not doubt that the Great Father, who had loved and cared for this -neglectful child of His for so many years, would pity him because he had -lived out his life to such unworthy issues, and found it so -disappointing, and had made so many mistakes, and suffered for them, as -was inevitable, and that He would have mercy upon him, whether at the -last he was able to ask for it or not. Arthur’s hope was not in his -father, but in his God; and there was no fear, but much faith in his -prayers. - -Illness and death are great softeners of human hearts. It was wonderful -how tender the people who knew Mr. Knight became towards him when they -heard that he was dying. All thought the best and none the worst of him -then. And when they looked through the eyes of love and pity, instead of -those of censure, they were not long in finding his good traits. Even -his workpeople altered their tones. “After all,” they said, “he had been -no worse a master than other men. Of course, he had tried to get all he -could out of them; it was only natural—other people did the same. And it -was not altogether his fault, perhaps, that he had not used better -materials; people would have nasty cheap things nowadays, and they could -not expect them to be cheap and good too.” So they talked, the people -whose hearts are mostly kind at the bottom, not because they quite -believed what they said, nor because they did not understand the meaning -of justice, truth, and honesty, but because in the presence of death -even the hardest becomes pitiful. - -It was a great comfort to Arthur Knight to know that many kind inquiries -were being made and much sympathy shown for his father, and these things -helped him through the time of waiting. - -It was not a very long time either. - -“He has not the strength to rally,” said the doctors. “He may have a -gleam of consciousness towards the last, but it is scarcely likely, and -the end may come at any time.” - -The end came suddenly. Mr. Knight opened his eyes and fixed them upon -his son. “Arthur,” he said. - -“Yes, father; I am here. I love you. What can I do for you?” - -The eyes closed wearily again for some minutes. Then they were once more -lifted to the sorrowful and sympathetic face bending over him, and the -dying man made an effort to speak. “Arthur—undo it all—if you can—and -pray for me. God be merciful—to me—a sinner.” - -Then, after a few minutes of struggle, his eyes closed, and his face -grew calm. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - ARTHUR KNIGHT’S INHERITANCE. - - -The stateliness of death was upon the still face of his father when the -son gazed upon it for the last time. A wonderful peace and beauty, which -had never been seen before, was there; and as Arthur looked through his -tears he saw that all the wrinkles which care had made were smoothed -away, and something of the youthfulness which he remembered had -returned. Did it mean anything or nothing, he wondered, this calm which -is always so comforting to those who look upon their dead? Love made him -tender; but neither it nor sorrow could make him unmindful of facts. His -father had not really been an irreligious man. He had known his Lord’s -will; but in many things he had not done it. He had gone home to God -with the cry of mercy on his lips and in his heart; and his son believed -in nothing so entirely as in the compassion of the Father, as Christ -represented Him. Arthur was not afraid; but he wondered where the dead -man was now, and how it fared with him. His father had appeared to be -entirely engrossed with the world of money-making and business; and what -sort of preparation was that for the hereafter which was before him? Had -the habit of worldliness so hardened his heart that it had kept the -weary wanderer from going back to the Father? Arthur was thankful that -he had heard the dying lips pray, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” -What issues might have hung upon the prayer for the man who was passing -away he could not tell, but there was infinite comfort in it for the one -who remained. Yet he mourned for what might have been. He knew enough of -his own heart, with its weaknesses and sins, to understand how a man’s -prayer has at the last to take the deprecating tones of humility and -confession. In the silent hours of his life he had dared to pray with -Moses, “Show me Thy glory,” and he to whom that is an answered prayer -must needs abhor himself in dust and ashes. He understood how natural it -was that a good and great man should have asked that the only epitaph -upon his tomb should be— - - A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, - On Thy kind arms I fall; - Be Thou my strength and righteousness, - My Saviour, and my all. - -Arthur Knight had uttered these words for himself many a time. But still -he knew, and never failed to realise, that there is another side to it -all. He delighted to dwell on the heroic side of Christ’s men. He -believed that what St. Paul said every disciple of Jesus might say, “I -can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth me,” and that the -inspiring song of victory which the Apostle raised might be echoed by -every one whom faith made strong: that the Christian indeed should live -so grand a life that he also might declare at the last, “I have fought a -good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” - -As he thought of all the possibilities which his father had had, of the -life which he had lived and the life that he might have lived, he was -filled with sorrow—just such sorrow as many of us are preparing for -those who know and love us best. But Arthur had a child’s faith as well -as a man’s loyalty; and he did what we all have to do—and what, indeed, -we are all glad to do—he left his dead with God. He knew every saving -clause in the history of the life that had ended—what relentings and -repentances and upward wistful glances there had been, and how fierce -was the struggle between the better and the worse nature of the man! God -knew it all, and that was enough. “I know not where he is; but, O my -Father! he is in Thy hands, commended to Thy love, and I am not afraid -to leave him with Thee,” he said; and with these words he was comforted. - -The great manufacturer of the East-end had left a fortune considerably -in excess of the amount which he had mentioned to his heir; and the -young man was too sensible to feel other than glad when he had the facts -of his inheritance placed before him in figures which told their own -story. With the exception of a few legacies to old servants, among whom -Arthur was gratified to see Hancourt’s name, everything was left to him -absolutely. Houses and lands, shares and investments were all at his -disposal, together with the business by which they had been won. But to -the new master these were chiefly valuable as means to an end. That -which thrilled his soul, and caused his eyes to flash and his heart to -glow, was the fact that nearly three thousand persons, men and women, -youths and girls, looked to him for work and wages. He needed no one to -remind him that whatever of other thoughts and plans were in his mind, -the duty that lay the nearest to him was the care of these people—their -bodies and their souls. And he never thought of this without a thrill of -joy. “They are MY PEOPLE, and, God helping me, I will do my duty by -them,” he said, and he meant much more than most men when he said it. - -It was with considerable emotion that Arthur Knight went through the -factories and saw his people at work. They were all English, like -himself, and he felt drawn towards them for this reason, if for no -other—for he was a true-hearted patriot. Many of them, too, were nearer -him because they were sharers in his faith, served the same Master, and -hoped for the same heaven. He thought he could tell which these were by -the look upon their faces, by their demeanour, and even their dress: for -his religion was very simple and sincere; and he had not a doubt but -that godliness exalts a man in every respect, and is profitable -altogether, for the present as well as the future life. These men and -women, who were members of Christian churches, and, therefore, must be -living their daily life on a higher level than the rest, having nobler -motives to guide them, would, he hoped, be very much his friends and -helpers in his future efforts to benefit the others. Knight looked upon -them all, indeed, as his friends; a great change and deterioration would -have to be wrought in him before he could regard them as “_hands_” -merely; to him they were men and women, boys and girls; they were heads -and hearts, much more than hands, and were to be his companions as well -as his servants in the future. To him “the fatherhood of God” and “the -brotherhood of man” were not well-sounding phrases only, but very -significant realities; but he knew that he would have to prove this to -his people before they would believe it. So he was busy with plans, -which he confided to his friend John Dallington, who came to spend a few -days with him. He would at once provide a reading-room for the men, and -he would get Miss Wentworth and her band of helpers to look after the -women. For the boys—great, rough, uncouth fellows as some of them -were—he had a warm heart, a resourceful brain, and a patient, tolerant -temper; and the first thing he did was to turn the top floor of his -house, which had hitherto been unoccupied, into class rooms of different -kinds for their especial comfort and benefit. - -One morning he told Dallington that he was going to see a former -_employé_ of his father’s, and invited him to accompany him. “I must try -to master the broad facts and general principles of the business -myself,” he said, “and I have a hard spell of work before me. But -Hancourt can help me. I should like your opinion of him. Come with me -and see him. It is a pleasant errand. My father has left him a hundred -pounds, and I will give him the cheque with the news. And Hancourt has -two children well worth knowing.” - -When they reached the house the children were as usual very much in -evidence. “How do you do, Mr. Arthur?” said the girl, and when he lifted -her she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Mother said I was -to kiss you as soon as ever I saw you, because your father is dead.” - -“Oh, Sissie!” said Geoff, reprovingly. “You should not talk about Mr. -Knight to Mr. Arthur, now, you know.” - -“Yes, she should,” said Arthur. “Are you sorry for me, Sissie?” - -“Yes, I am very sorry. Were you a good boy to your father, Mr. Arthur?” - -“Not always, Sissie; and I am sorry for it now. You will always be good -to your father and mother, won’t you?” - -“I don’t know. Mother says I’m very bad. Did you ever have a mother?” - -“Yes; but that was a long, long time ago. She died when I was such a -little boy that I cannot even remember her.” - -“But what will you do now, when you have not either a father or a -mother?” - -“I don’t know, Sissie. I shall be very lonely. I think you must come and -see me.” - -“I’m much obliged to you. Thanks very much.” - -This was said in such a droll way that Dallington laughed. - -“You shouldn’t laugh; it’s rude,” said the child. But her brother -rebuked her. - -“It is you who are rude, Sissie; isn’t she, mother?” - -“I am afraid she is, Geoff.” - -“She is very entertaining,” said Dallington. “Sissie, will you not be -gracious, and give me a kiss, too?” - -“Have you got any little girls at home?” - -“No; I am sorry to say I have not. Will you come home with me?” - -“No; I could not leave Geoff. He would be always in trouble without me.” - -“Then come to me for a little time now; for if you do not I shall be -jealous.” - -“What is ‘jealous’?” - -“I am afraid you know the thing if you do not know the word,” said Mrs. -Hancourt. - -“Is it to be naughty, mother?” - -“Yes, Sissie; and that is what you have been to-day. And you must go to -bed early. Indeed, you had better say ‘Good-night,’ and go now.” - -“But let me say my prayers down here, mother, because I always do, you -know.” And without more ado the child knelt down, and, folding her hands -together, she said: “Oh, God, please make Sissie a good girl!” and -demurely added, “And if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” - -Sounds that were not devotional were heard from the other parts of the -room, and Mrs. Hancourt lifted the little one in her arms. “I think, -darling,” she said, “you had better finish your prayers upstairs.” - -When Mrs. Hancourt and the children had left, Arthur told his news. “I -have the pleasure to inform you, Mr. Hancourt, that my father proved the -respect which he had for you by leaving you a small legacy.” - -“A legacy, sir?” exclaimed the man, in amazement. “A legacy for me? Left -me by Mr. Knight? Do let me call my wife. Kate, come here! This is news, -indeed. Mr. Knight really had not any ill-feeling toward me, after all.” - -“Oh! I am very glad,” said Mrs. Hancourt. “Mr. Arthur, my husband, ever -since Mr. Knight’s illness, has been wondering if he had not been harsh -and wrong.” - -“But, Kate, you would never guess the rest. Mr. Knight has left us a -legacy.” - -“It is nothing to make a fuss about,” said Knight. “It is only a hundred -pounds. Here is a cheque for the amount.” - -“A hundred pounds?” It was all that Hancourt could say. He changed -colour, and struggled for composure. - -His wife had tears in her eyes. “You must please excuse him,” she said -to Arthur. “You do not know, you cannot guess, what this money is to us, -nor what we have gone through lately.” - -Knight’s heart beat quickly. He had not felt so glad before as he did -now that he was rich. How possible it would be for him to increase the -happiness of other people if only he used his inheritance wisely! - -“Mr. Hancourt,” he said, “you were for a long time my father’s -right-hand man. Will you be mine? My father’s most solemn legacy to me -was his command to undo anything which is wrong in the business. Justice -shall be done, as far as it is possible; but wisdom is a part of -righteousness, and I need to be much wiser than I am to do perfectly the -part that is allotted to me. It is my firm conviction that it is as -possible to-day as ever to carry on a business upon Christian -principles, and I am going to try. Will you help me?” - -“With all my heart, sir,” said Hancourt, fervently. “And I will try to -deserve your confidence.” - -“The first thing I wish you to do is to furnish me with all the -particulars of my constituency of labour. I want to know my people. Make -me out a list of their names, and write beside each the sex, age, -residence, religious denomination, what work he does, what wages he -gets, and anything and everything there is to say about him. I hope in -time to make the personal acquaintance of every individual who works for -me. First, I must know the boys; and before another week is gone I shall -get them together in some suitable place, that we may have a talk, and -understand each other. I hope you agree with me, Mr. Hancourt, that the -hope of the future is in the young. If we can secure them on the right -side everything is gained.” - -Hancourt was delighted. He had found a master after his own heart. Hope -had come back to him, and there was great gladness in the little home in -which he lived. - -“I wish, Dallington, you could give me a year,” said Knight, as they -drove back together. “It is not in my inheritance of money, but in my -inheritance of men that I rejoice. These claim my first attention. I -mean to make my _employés_ my friends.” - -“I hope you are not attempting the impossible. Many masters before you -have tried, and failed,” replied Dallington. “Human nature is a very -difficult thing to manage. Still, I wish you success. You will do it if -it can be done, because you recognise the rights of brotherhood. But I -am sorry that before you have everywhere delivered that speech which is -in your mind you have all these new duties thrust upon you.” - -“I am not sorry. I have the chance to test my theories upon my own -people; could anything be better? And, besides, it is the busy people -who will do this work that has to be done. I am not going to delay my -part, John. You and I and many others will proclaim the fact that the -Church must not be afraid to take the greatness which the Master is -thrusting upon her, and that for His sake, and her own sake, and the -world’s sake, she must be an united and not a split-up Church.” - -“But people—even good people—love to fight.” - -“Very well; and there is still the world, the flesh, and the devil for -them to attack. That they should waste their strength in fighting one -another after all these centuries of Christian teaching seems to me -wonderful. But I am sure the Christian world is ready for a change. -Already there are dozens, soon there will be thousands, of preachers -proclaiming a truce, while the Church puts right the wrongs of the poor -and degraded in England.” - -But Knight found that his hands were full when he went to look at the -properties that had come into his possession. Among the rest was an -immense number of courts and alleys near the places of business; and the -heart of the young owner of them grew very sad as he examined them. They -were most of them miserably old and dirty, and the women and children -whom he saw lounging about the doorways looked sickly and filthy, too. -He remembered what he had once read—that men and animals were greatly -influenced by the character of the places in which they ate and slept; -and he ceased to wonder that some of the men of whom he had heard were -lazy, drunken, and blasphemous. The places were not homes—they did not -deserve the name. And to think that his brother-men had to pass their -hours of leisure there or in a public-house! - -He continued his researches, however, for some hours, after which he -felt utterly miserable and ashamed that such places should form part of -his inheritance. - -He was turning to go home when a lady accosted him. “Excuse me,” she -said, “people are telling me that you are the owner of these houses. -Will you be good enough to come and look at one of them?” - -She spoke in a low voice, which thrilled with indignation, and her eyes -were blazing with a passion of anger. - -“I have only been the owner for a few days,” said Arthur. “I am not -proud of them, I assure you, but very much ashamed of them. I will do -what I can as speedily as I can; they cannot be changed by a miracle. I -wish they could.” - -The girl did not reply; and Arthur followed her into the most wretched -house that he had ever seen, and into a room where there was a hole in -the roof and another in the floor, and in the corner of which lay a -woman suffering horribly from rheumatic fever, while two wretched, -half-clothed children sat by her side, munching a piece of bread. - -“This woman, a deserted wife,” said the young lady, “sews packing-bags -for the factory near. By working fourteen hours a day she can earn eight -shillings a week; and the man who pays the wages has five shillings back -for rent. It is iniquitous, all of it! It is a shame to pay so little -for so much work; and it is even worse robbery to take more than a -nominal rent for such a disgraceful place. Robbery! It is murder! And -the man who has committed it would have to take his trial for it if -there were any justice in England.” - -Arthur looked into the flushed face lifted so accusingly to his own with -mixed feelings. He felt almost like a schoolboy being scolded, or like -the prisoner she had spoken of arraigned before a judge who would have -very little mercy; and he was almost amused at her vehemence, too. - -“Really—yes,” he stammered. “It is, as you say, iniquitous, all of it. -Believe me, so far as I am responsible, it shall be changed. In the -meantime, let me do what I can for this woman. Cannot she be removed to -the hospital? Allow me——” - -He took some money from his purse and held it towards her, but she -refused it. “I have taken this case in hand,” she said. “You will find -plenty of others quite near if you are really in earnest; but what all -these people want is not charity, but justice.” - -“It is good of you to visit and help them,” began Knight; but the young -lady smiled a peculiar smile that made him feel uncomfortable. - -“Good?” she said. “If any of us were good, we would surely be able to -prevent such things as these.” - -Knight much wished to know something of the young lecturer who had so -taken him to task; but she dismissed him with a stately bow, and there -was nothing for him but to leave, more resolute than ever to at once -begin what really appeared a hopeless task. But early the next morning -he had an inspiration. - -It was possible for him, with the money which he had and could make, to -take his business and his people out of this terrible city altogether, -and he would do it! What a chance he had! He could plan a model town; -and there set his people to work under far different conditions. He felt -that the thought was a call from God, and he had some minutes of such -joyous thankfulness as come to few men in a lifetime. Here was a bit of -work that suited him exactly; and with all the energy he had, he at once -set about making the thought an accomplished fact. He had an -inheritance, indeed, of duty and of joy. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - MARY WYTHBURN’S WEDDING. - - -John Dallington had his own troubles to bear, although they were of a -different character from those of Arthur Knight. For a few weeks he -rejoiced greatly in his heritage, while the land of his fathers grew -dearer to him day by day; and then he learnt that only a part of it was -really his own, and that some of it had been mortgaged. That there could -be a debt upon his inheritance was a possibility that had never once -occurred to him; and the fact was an exceedingly bitter one—indeed, he -had not known how to bear it. Years afterward he remembered the lawyer’s -office in which the unwelcome news was told him so distinctly that he -knew the pattern of the paper on the wall and the number of panes in the -window. - -“I will redeem it,” he said; “I could not bear to let even a bit of the -land go. It will take me years to do it, no doubt, but if I live it -shall be accomplished.” - -“A very worthy ambition,” replied the solicitor, who was sorry for the -young man, and sympathised with him. “It is a good thing to have an -object in life—keeps a man out of mischief, you know, and helps him to -put forth his best powers. I assure you, Mr. Dallington, that there is -nothing like trouble of this sort for making a man of you.” - -But it was with a sore heart and rueful countenance that Dallington -betook himself to his farm. He had been so sure that it was his, to do -as he liked with, and his fancy had painted glowing pictures of what he -would do for his mother, and his cottage tenants afterwards. And now he -must economise, and deny himself the pleasure of making improvements, -and must be careful of his own personal expenses. The thought made him -sigh; not that he had extravagant habits, but because he had already -hoped to persuade the lady of his heart to begin with him the new life -which was before him. That was out of the question now, and he must not -seek her, nor even think of her. - -So he said to himself as he was moodily making his way home, and he had -no sooner said it than his heart gave a leap of joy, for, there before -him, in the little woodland path, coming towards him with a flush upon -her beautiful face, and her eyes shining like stars, was Margaret -Miller. She was used to these woods and loved them; but she would not -have been there that day had she expected to meet him there. She -steadied herself to speak to him with quiet friendliness, but he took -both her hands, and gazed in her face, with his heart in his eyes, and -could only say, “Margaret, Margaret!” - -So they stood for a few moments, and a year of happiness was in them; -and then John remembered! If it had happened yesterday he would have -poured forth his love in a torrent of words, and asked her at once to be -his wife; but now he must not, for stern duty forbade. As for Margaret, -she had not forgotten; and though, for an instant, her heart sank with -dismay lest he had read the truth, she soon recovered herself, and -helped him to do the same. But all the pain went from him, and when he -turned and walked back with her, and the sweet summer sun kissed them -both, while the birds sang as if in sympathy with their joy, he felt -strong enough and brave enough to do everything. And he took her at once -into his confidence. Every one else did the same; it was wonderful how -many secrets of sorrow had been given to Margaret to keep, young as she -was; but it was no wonder that Dallington felt the comfort and strength -of her sympathy. It was not news to Margaret that John Dallington was -not a rich man, for in a little place like Darentdale few things are -altogether hidden, and she could not feel as sorry for his pain as she -was glad to learn in what the chief pain consisted. - -“I was hoping,” he said, “that there might not be a really poor person -on my estate. I meant every man to have a chance—and every woman, too. -The cottages need rebuilding badly, and the labourers ought to have some -share in the land; but what am I to do now?” - -“It would not make much difference to your income,” said Margaret, -gently, “if you gave them half of one of your meadows as allotments or -gardens; and that would probably furnish each of your labourers with a -strip of ground. Even if they had it rent free you would not lose very -much; but if you let them have it for the value of the grass it would -not cost them much either. It is too bad of those farmers who charge the -men higher rents for small pieces than they would get for the larger -ones.” - -John Dallington saw his way at once. “To be sure, I can do that,” he -said. “I intended to put a garden to each cottage; but it does not -matter where it is, and I have a field that will do for that purpose -exactly.” - -“And you have a stone quarry. Why not allow your men to use your stone, -and enlarge or rebuild their own cottages? Labour is even more costly -than materials, and you might save that if you could induce the men to -do the work themselves. But I expect you would have to grant them -leases, unless they trust you more than they do most masters, so that -they could have no fear or possibility of being turned out of the places -they had renovated.” - -John thought it was beautiful of her to be so much interested; and was -she not as sensible as she was good? Then they talked together of old -times, and every care vanished from them both. - -“I shall see you to-morrow,” he said, as they parted. “I am going to -Miss Wythburn’s wedding.” - -The next day dawned auspiciously in Scourby, a manufacturing town at the -head of Darentdale, where the wedding was to take place. - -Mrs. Wythburn’s face was a little tearful on that morning, for Mary was -her only child, and the mother’s heart was full of solicitude. But with -the self-repression characteristic of mothers she was prepared to put -her own feelings on one side, and meet her friends with smiles as bright -as she could make them. - -The father of the bride did not pretend to smile at all, and made no -secret of his sentiments in regard to weddings. He had been in a chronic -state of grumblement since the day was fixed. “They say that a man’s -house is his castle; mine is much more like a fancy fair,” he said. -“People have been coming in at all my doors as if they had a right; the -only person who has seemed to have no right to be upon the premises is -myself. I shall be glad when the fuss is over.” - -His wife was not disconcerted by this pretence at ill-temper, for she -knew how much—or, rather, how little—it meant; and was assured that her -husband would be genial enough when the time arrived for his -after-breakfast speech. For she knew that Mr. Wythburn would not on any -account have had things other than they were, since he had long wished -to see his daughter married to his oldest neighbour. - -Some of Mary’s friends thought it a pity. The two were so entirely -different that it was doubtful if they had any tastes or feelings in -common. Alfred Greenholme was inactive, self-indulgent, unambitious. -Everything was too great an exertion for him. He never wanted even to -play at tennis, nor to dance at an evening party. “There was no harm in -him,” people said. “He was a good-natured sort of fellow enough;” but he -positively seemed to care for nothing but lounging about and smoking -cigars. But Mary Wythburn was full of intense, vivid life. She had an -enormous capacity for work, and she used this capacity to the utmost. -Quiet, and even timid, in manner, she had such perfect control over -herself that few guessed how keen was her desire to know and to do. She -was an exceedingly clever girl, and had availed herself to the utmost of -all the educational advantages which the modern spirit of fairness has -granted to women, and at school, college, and university she had gained -distinctions and carried off prizes. Her father and mother had not -hindered her; but she knew that though they could not help feeling a -little proud of her successes, they did not altogether approve of her. -They had her portrait taken in the college cap and gown which became her -so well; and they said that, since the letters which she had the right -to put after her name meant something, she ought to use them; but they -both considered it a little unwomanly to be too clever, and wished that -she would settle down and be married. - -In another respect they scarcely understood their daughter. Her nature -was intensely sensitive and sympathetic. She knew what it was to weep -over sorrows that were none of hers, and to be punished for sins which -she had not committed. Pain, want, wickedness, and woe were spectres -that haunted the girl, and would not let her forget them. Moreover, Mary -was grievously beset by doubt, which she endured in loneliness because -the least expression of it so shocked those whom she loved that she had -not the courage to say all that was in her mind. She had once declared, -with flushed face and dilated eyes, on returning from visiting a woman -who was dying of cancer, that she did not, could not, would not believe -that the poor creatures who were so badly off in this world would be -also punished in the next, even for their sins. Her father and mother, -secure and comfortable in their church-going consummateness, believing -all that they ought to believe, and never troubling themselves further, -asked her sternly if she read her Bible now. Truth to tell, she read it -very little. She tried to reconcile that which she knew was in it with -that which she saw in the world, and finding the two apparently -irreconcilable she yielded to unbelief; and because she could not -herself believe, began to doubt the honesty of those who did. Poor Mary -had lost her child’s faith in the Fatherhood of God, and had failed to -apprehend the meaning of the sacrifice of His Son. - -She sorely needed some one to help her. She was not in the least brave, -though she was clever, and had simply drifted into an engagement with -Mr. Greenholme. - -But when the wedding was drawing near she filled her mother with -consternation. - -“Mother,” she said, “I am really not sure that I can marry Alfred after -all.” - -“Oh, my dear child! how you frighten me! What do you mean?” - -“I don’t believe I care for him as people generally do care when they -are going to be married.” - -“Is there any one else for whom you care, Mary?” - -“Oh, no, mother! There is not any one whom I like better than Alfred; -and he is very kind to me; but I do not want to be married at all.” - -“That will come right, my dear. I am sure you would not like to be an -old maid; no woman does. Oh, yes, you may think now you would not mind, -because you are young; but you would be very miserable afterward, and as -Alfred’s wife you will have every comfort. You must not think of -anything now but your promise.” - -So the preparations went on, and every one was pleased with Mary. - -It was to be a quiet wedding. The three bridesmaids—Mary’s girl-friends, -the Misses Copeland, Miller, and Whitwell—had arrived on the previous -evening, since they all lived some distance from Scourby. Miss Copeland -was a tall and graceful young lady who, for some reason or other, -appeared ill-tempered and irritable; Miss Miller was quiet and happy; -and Miss Whitwell as merry as a cricket. - -Dr. Stapleton, a friend of the family, called early, and asked after the -health of the bride. “I am now going to see her,” said Mrs. Wythburn; -and she went away wearing the bright look of love which makes mothers’ -faces so beautiful. - -But in a few minutes she came back, looking quite changed. Her face had -lost its colour, and she trembled so that she could scarcely walk. She -seemed to have become suddenly blind, for although the drawing-room door -stood open she appeared to be feeling for the handle. - -The only person who observed her was Margaret Miller, who saw at a -glance that either Mrs. Wythburn had been taken suddenly ill, or -something dreadful had happened. Swiftly and silently Margaret went to -her side, and, closing the door behind them, led the shaking women into -the dining-room. - -“What is the matter, Mrs. Wythburn? I hope nothing is wrong. Where is -Mary?” - -Mrs. Wythburn tried to speak, but at first no words could be uttered. -Margaret was as tender as a daughter. “Don’t be frightened, my dear, -whatever it is,” she said. “There is a little mistake, somehow, perhaps. -Or a little sudden faintness, which will pass off presently.” - -After a time Mrs. Wythburn managed to gasp out a few words. “Margaret, -there is great trouble. I do not know what it is. Fetch my husband.” - -They had been married many years, but they were a very kindly Darby and -Joan, and the wife felt as if she could not break to her husband the -news that she had to tell. - -“Why, Martha, what is the matter?” - -“Oh, John, God help us, for something terrible has happened!” - -“Don’t give way, dearie; we have borne some troubles together, and we -will meet this. Tell me what it is. Is it anything about Mary?” - -“Yes, it is. Mary—Mary is gone!” - -“Gone where?” - -“Ah, that is it! Mary has not slept in her room, and she is not in the -house. No one has seen her this morning, and she is not to be found -anywhere. I have questioned the servants; I have searched every room.” - -Here the poor woman’s feeling quite overcame her, and Mr. Wythburn -placed her on the couch and went straight to his daughter’s apartment. - -It was true. The dainty little room was in perfect order, save for the -wedding finery that overflowed the wardrobe and occupied some of the -chairs. The bed was not disturbed, and the gas was burning as it was -last night. There was not a scrap of paper anywhere to explain the -strange absence of the bride; only one thing was certain—that she was -gone! Vague fears took possession of the father’s mind: there must have -been foul play, for surely no girl in her senses would run away from her -own wedding! But what was to be done? Of course there could be no -marriage without a bride, and the bridegroom must be warned. Mr. -Wythburn tried to control himself, but his face was ghastly and his -hands were shaking. His thoughts turned to Margaret Miller: he knew that -she would keep her senses and prove reliable, and at that moment she -appeared. - -“What is it, Mr. Wythburn? Mary is not here. Ah! do not be unnecessarily -alarmed; Mary will explain it. Nothing has happened to her.” - -“But, Margaret, where can my child be, and what is to be done? Alfred -Greenholme——” - -“Yes; I will ask Dr. Stapleton to fetch him, and to see that the church -remains closed. I will manage it. We will not have more talk than we can -help. And, Mr. Wythburn, do not give way to grief. Be sure that it will -all come right in the end. Oh, be sure that Mary is to be trusted! She -will, perhaps, be here presently, and laugh at all our fears.” - -Margaret went at once to the room where Dr. Stapleton still waited. He -was standing and looking eagerly toward the door when it was opened. He -seemed to have a prevision of some catastrophe. - -“What is it?” he said. “Something wrong with Mary, isn’t it? Tell me -what it is. Is she ill?” - -Margaret noticed that he looked white, as if with fear, and that he used -her Christian name when speaking of Miss Wythburn. - -“Yes; I think there is no doubt that she is ill. I had better tell you -all the truth, Dr. Stapleton, for we are both Mary’s friends and the -friends of the family. Mary, for some reason, left her home last night. -Her room was not disturbed, and no one has seen her this morning, or has -the slightest idea where she can be.” - -Dr. Stapleton said nothing. He caught Margaret’s hands and held them -forcibly, looking in her face with staring eyes. - -“Dr. Stapleton, please, I want you to help us. Some one must go to Mr. -Greenholme’s house. Will you go and ask Alfred to come here at once? And -will you tell the sexton not to open the church until he hears from us? -But it will be better to say nothing of what has happened.” - -Still Stapleton did not speak or move. - -“I think Mary will be here directly, do not you? I cannot imagine her -doing anything unusual. Please go directly, and tell Mr. Greenholme.” - -Margaret gave him a little push and put his hat in his hand and opened -the door. Even then he seemed scarcely to understand, but he passed out -mechanically, and Margaret saw that he went in the direction of Mr. -Greenholme’s house. - -She herself turned to meet the dismayed faces of the other two -bridesmaids. - -“Margaret, what is it?” asked Miss Whitwell. “Mr. Wythburn has just -rushed through the room saying that he was going to search the garden -for Mary. Is not Mary in the house?” - -“No; she must have left the house last night, for she has not slept in -her bed. Hilda, your room was next Mary’s; did you hear her in the -night?” - -“No. But Mary is a little peculiar. Perhaps she went for a walk, and -sprained her ankle or something. We had better go through the grounds. I -should not be surprised if she went over the hill to Rayford. It was a -magnificent night, and the moon made it almost like day; but if she -attempted to go across the rocks she might well meet with an accident.” - -“Oh, but she never would! What is the use of saying such things?” -exclaimed Miss Whitwell, and immediately added, “Perhaps she is -somewhere near, and we shall find her.” - -But Margaret felt sure that she would not be found, and, instead of -joining the others, she went to Mrs. Wythburn, who was still going into -one room after another, and peering into all sorts of unlikely places, -searching for her missing daughter and sobbing as if her heart would -break. - -Presently in came Alfred Greenholme and his father, the former feeling -more disturbed than he had ever felt in his life before. - -“What in the world is the matter?” he said. “Stapleton seems to have -taken leave of his senses. He was as incoherent as if he had been -drinking; but I understand him to say that Mary is missing.” - -“Yes; he said what is true. Mary cannot be found.” - -“Then there must have been foul play. Where were her jewels kept? Have -they been stolen?” - -“No,” replied Margaret; “nothing seems to have been touched. All her -wedding presents are exactly as they were, and her jewels are in the -drawer in which they were always kept.” - -“What am I to do?” asked Alfred. “Surely Mary will be here presently. -She will not get late for the wedding? She fixed the time herself.” - -“I am so sorry for you,” said Hilda Copeland. “Mary must have been out -of her senses.” - -“Did she seem so? Was she ill last night?” demanded Greenholme. - -“She did not say so. She was very quiet, though.” - -“Quiet!” repeated Alfred, forgetting to be courteous. “She was never -other than quiet. But such conduct is perfectly inexplicable. Are you -sure Mary is not in the house, Miss Miller?” - -“Quite sure. We have looked everywhere.” - -“Where is Stapleton? He might go and prevent the carriages from coming. -We do not want a row of them standing in front of the house for an -hour.” - -“The servants will attend to that. There will be no wedding to-day,” -said Margaret. - -“Do not say so. Mary may yet be in time. Is there no letter, or -something to explain where she is or what she has done?” demanded the -disappointed bridegroom. - -“No; we can find nothing.” - -“Then she will be forthcoming presently.” - -But she was not; the searchers returned and looked at each other in -dismay. - -The hours wore on. Mr. Greenholme thought the police should be -communicated with, but Mr. Wythburn was not willing. - -“I cannot have detectives trying to track my daughter,” he said. “Mary -is not a child unable to take care of herself. We shall have a telegram -presently, or a letter from her in the morning.” - -Alfred Greenholme said very little. But when Mrs. Wythburn came -tremblingly towards him, and kissed him, he said, “Do not be more -anxious than you can help. We both know Mary. Nothing dreadful can have -happened. We must wait. And let us keep our own counsel as much as we -can, and not set the whole town gossiping.” - -But many friends of the family called during the day, and of course the -news spread rapidly. The vicar came, and his presence proved a great -comfort, for he said what commended itself to all. “Be sure that Mary is -in God’s keeping. No harm has come to her. For some reason or other Mary -has absented herself rather than be married. It is a very strange thing; -but we must not be too swift to blame her. She has really lived a very -independent life, you know, and she has simply acted for herself now. Do -you not think that is the explanation, Miss Miller?” And Margaret had -little doubt that it was. - -The Greenholmes remained all day, for the trouble was one to be shared -between them. Alfred behaved very well; but he seemed to suffer more -annoyance than grief, and that is decidedly the more easy to bear. - -And late in the afternoon a telegram came for Mr. Greenholme. It -contained only these words: “Do not be anxious. All is well. Mary.” - -It wrought instantly a change in the feelings of the household; for -anger and vexation took the place of grief and anxiety. “It is too bad -of Mary,” everybody said; and hot words of blame were spoken freely. -Nobody took her part very courageously. Even Margaret admitted that her -friend had been, at the very least, guilty of great cowardice, while -Miss Copeland abused her in unmeasured terms; and only Tom Whitwell -pleaded that they would give her time to explain before they judged and -condemned her. - -It had been arranged that Mr. Dallington should drive his cousin home. -He had come, as he thought, to the wedding, and seeing that there was to -be none, he thought they should leave early. Dr. Stapleton was to have -taken Miss Miller to Darentdale, but as he had not returned she accepted -Dallington’s invitation, and accompanied him and Miss Whitwell. - -“I told you that I believed the wedding would not take place, did I not, -John?” asked the latter, as soon as they had started. - -“Yes, you did, Tom; but I consider that your friend has disgraced her -womanhood in acting as she has done. If I were Greenholme I would never -forgive her.” - -“I am sure she will never ask him,” said Tom. “But she has been a great -coward through it all.” - -“She ought never to have allowed herself to be engaged to him,” said -Margaret; “but having done so she ought to have gone through with it.” - -“And been miserable for ever after,” added Tom. - -And then the clouds cleared away; for why should three healthy happy -young people be sad because one had been stupid? - -Late in the evening Dr. Stapleton called at Mr. Wythburn’s to make -inquiries. He only stayed a few minutes; and when he left the vicar went -with him. They parted after ten minutes’ walk, and as they did so Mr. -Sherborne looked straight into the doctor’s eyes, and suddenly asked him -a question. “Stapleton, do you know where Miss Wythburn is?” - -The doctor started violently, and the colour first came into his face, -and then left him pale. - -“I? No, indeed!” he exclaimed. “I wish to God I did!” - -“If you know anything at all you ought to tell her father.” - -“What can I know?” stammered Stapleton. - -But the vicar lifted his hat and walked away without another word. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - SOME SIGNS OF THE TIMES. - - -Mary Wythburn’s disappearance was one of the signs of the times. And, -excepting to the parties most nearly concerned, it was scarcely a nine -days’ wonder. To a great extent even their minds were speedily set at -rest, for a few days after the wedding was to have taken place a letter -reached her friend, Margaret Miller, which explained in part the -occurrence, though unquestionably the real reason was that Mary’s heart -was playing truant. - -“Dear Margaret,” it said, “I am so frightened at what I have done that I -do not know how to bear it; but you know I am such a coward that I could -not bravely face it all out as I ought to have done. I simply dare not -marry Alfred Greenholme, and I dare not say so. Do go to my mother and -comfort her, and tell her that I am safe and well; but I cannot let any -one know where I am, for, of course, if I did I should be fetched home; -and I would rather die than go. Margaret, I am doing what I have always -known I ought to do. I am at work on my own plans in this terrible -London, and, God helping me, I will make a few of my own sex better and -happier before I die. It makes me sick to see how wretched and wicked -they are. Please be my friend, and do not let my dear father and mother, -whom I love with all my heart, be more miserable than they need be. Of -course, I know they are angry with me, and I deserve that they should -be; it is very hard for them that they could not have a daughter like -other people’s girls. I can bear their anger, but they must not be -anxious or sorrowful about me. I have my cheque-book, and I can take -care of myself for a little while; but, oh, Madge! what would I not give -to put my head on your shoulder and have a good cry, and hear you scold -me (as I know you would). I am very thankful to sign myself, still ever -yours, - - MARY WYTHBURN.” - -In point of fact Mary Wythburn had not done an unheard-of thing in -preferring to work among the poor rather than be married. Many girls had -made the same choice; and many men too. The world of the great East of -London was the scene of more heroic labours for the wretched than had -ever been known before. Methodism had its centre there, from which -radiated all sorts of beneficent lights that flashed across the -darkness. The Congregationalists had a home where good women who had -given up their wealth for Christ’s sake, and that of humanity, lived -together in a little community, and laboured in every conceivable way -among the poor. The Baptists had long led the Forward Movement, which -was another name for the “applied Christianity” in which the Church had -now come to believe. The Episcopal Church had brought wealth, culture, -and influence to bear upon the problem of the outcasts. University men -had chosen this work instead of Parliamentary honours, or the -accumulation of money. And many a young lady had quietly disappeared -from society, and, receiving a pound or two a week from her father for -her personal needs, had gone to dwell among the poor, as poor, in order -to live a consecrated life of Christian helpfulness. Mary Wythburn had -but added one to the already swelling multitude who had yielded to the -fascination of the modern ministry of love and service. The old things -repeated themselves—with a difference. The piety which had moved men and -women to withdraw from the world and give themselves entirely to a -religious life was equally strong and impassioned in many of the young -men and women who were sworn disciples of Jesus now; but they served Him -by withdrawing from luxuries only, and not from men. They took no vows -upon them excepting the usual ones which characterise the entrance into -the Church, but they put a different meaning into them. They heard a -call summoning them into the thick of the crowd, there to do the works -of their Master—to feed the five thousand, to heal the sick, to open the -eyes of the blind, to deliver the captives; aye, to take the little -children into their arms and bless them. - -For thoughtful people were most of all concerned about the young. The -State had given them enough schooling to render them precocious, for it -was compulsory and free; but it had not educated them, for the -conscience and the character were very much untouched by the schools, -since the children left far too early to have had a chance to gain -anything more than the mere rudiments of elementary training. The years -at which they might begin to labour were put back a little, but now -there were thousands, where fifty years before there had been dozens, -earning their own livelihood in factories and works of various kinds. -This massing of young people together, with little control over their -tongues or conduct, was having a terrible effect upon the men and women -of the next generation. Their conversation was frequently of the most -filthy kind, and juvenile immorality was frightfully on the increase. - -Arthur Knight had a shock as, sitting in his office one day with the -windows open, he overheard some of the girls in his employ talking -together, and he lost no time in providing a place where Miss Wentworth -and her helpers might begin a beneficial work among these young people, -many of whom, though at present between fourteen and sixteen, would soon -be the mothers of children, and who for that, if no other reason, needed -greatly the womanly ministrations of Christian love. - -But it happened that at the first of the girls’ meetings in the -temporary evening homes prepared for their reception Miss Wentworth -could not be present, and, indeed, for several weeks the young ladies -who were to help her had about fifty factory girls to themselves. -Neither of them would ever forget their experience. Provision had been -made for the girls to wash at the rooms, and take tea there, so that -they might be as long as possible under the influence of their friends, -who earnestly desired to render them real service, but who were at their -wit’s end to know how to accomplish it. The girls brought curling-tongs, -and spent most of their time in “frizzing” their “fringes.” They were -urged to join a savings’ club, but said they were already in a “feather -club,” to which they paid, out of their earnings of seven or eight -shillings, a shilling a week for “fashion and finery,” and they could -not afford to save anything else. For some time it seemed impossible to -reduce them to any sort of order. They at once gave nicknames to the -ladies; and began by mimicking their manner of speaking. One of the -girls went to a timid, nervous young lady, and, looking her full in the -face, said, “Blush! blush!” an order which was, of course, instantly -obeyed, to the great glee of those who stood around, and who laughed -uproariously. One impudent-looking girl had a dreadful black eye, and in -reply to a lady who kindly inquired if she had met with an accident, -said, “Mother did that. She throwed a tater at me, and it hit my eye. My -mother can’t do nothing with me, and it makes her mad.” The words were -immediately sung in a sort of chorus: “_My_ mother can’t do nothing with -_me_, and it makes her mad.” A lady offered to give a little talk on the -body, having made physiology her favourite study; the girls sat and -giggled the whole time, at the end of which they dubbed their teacher, -“Bones.” The young ladies were very much troubled by the boys outside, -who waited about for the girls, and amused themselves by knocking at the -doors and climbing up to the windows, and who became at last so -troublesome that a policeman was asked to take up his station near and -keep order. The next day many of the girls brought the policeman -offerings of flowers, and nearly all surrounded him, and began talking -and joking with him. - -“It is of no use to try. We shall never do them any good. We must give -it up and leave them to their fate.” But this was not what those -educated, Christ-obeying girls said. Some whom they knew had gone away -to work among the dwarfs of the Congo, the fever-stricken men and women -of the jungle, and the lepers of Siberia; should these be less heroic -than they? They kept steadily on, and, after a time, a few of the girls -for whose salvation they agonised grew more quiet than the rest, and -these would distribute themselves among the others and try to keep order -during the prayer-time; and, at last, now and then the young hearts of -these home missionaries were thrilled with such whispers as this: “I do -want to be better, please tell me how?” So they worked faithfully. - -But many signs of the times were less hopeful than this. It was known in -England, and especially in London, that few financial ventures were so -absolutely safe as those connected with journalism, provided the popular -taste was met. Those who won the greatest popularity were those who -wrote down to the masses, and went even a little lower than they. The -sale of such journals was largely helped by religious people, not that -they approved the morality of the journals, but because they were -amusing, the gossip being of a spicy nature, and the tales sensational -and enthralling. For several years almost all papers had become -increasingly personal in their character, and editors were willing to -pay large sums for little bits of news touching persons who were in the -least distinguished for position, possession, or power. The society -journals had always a large sale, especially those that were the most -unscrupulous in hunting for skeletons in cupboards, and exhibiting them -to the public at the rate of a penny a week. - -But lately there had been commenced a new journal, which was giving -intense pain, and covering with shame a large section of the British -people. Its registered title was _Saints’ Society_, and the motto under -the title, chosen in confessed irony, was, “See how these Christians -love one another.” It existed for the express purpose of blackening the -character and showing up the weaknesses of all sections of the Church, -and was full of personalities of the vilest kinds. It would have done -less harm if it had been boycotted by respectable or even Christian -people, but too many women and some men bought the paper, and gloated -over it in semi-secret circles, because of what it told of individuals -whom they knew. The adults who did this could not perhaps be greatly -harmed by it, since, already, the process of deterioration must have -gone so far with their own characters that a little more made almost no -perceptible difference; but it was the young people in their families -who suffered most, and who, by hundreds throughout the land, were -declaring gleefully or angrily, according to their temperament, that -religion was a sham and a fraud, which they declined altogether to -uphold by any adhesion of theirs. - -But the paper was chiefly supported by those who openly hated anything -bearing the Christian name. Certain individuals in some sections of the -Church had roused considerable antagonism by harassing, with piecemeal -legislation, the supporters of existing evils. They had not the energy -and perseverance, perhaps they had not the power, to destroy the wrongs -of which they complained—that would require a revolution—but they had -made it disagreeable for a good many people who coined money by, and -were otherwise interested in, the perpetuation of these wrongs, and this -had created a great amount of angry feeling. _The Saints’ Society -Journal_ was the outcome of revenge. - -But in one respect the journal was serviceable. It threw a vivid light -upon the standard of excellence which the world expects in Christian -people, and many readers turned away from its columns with uneasy -consciences. Even _The Saints’ Society_ had a generous word for real -goodness, but for those who professed to be religious and yet were not -good it had no mercy. It devoted a whole page to paragraphs referring to -incidents in which professors fell below their ideal. The following are -illustrations from a single number of the paper:— - - “ART AND ARTFUL.—One day last week a young lady brought a painting to - a fine art depository in the West-end, and asked the proprietor to buy - it for two pounds. He looked at it, and declared the price - ridiculously high, inquiring, with a sneer, where she got such a lofty - estimate of her own talents. She replied that she was in most urgent - need of two pounds, and felt sure that the picture was worth the - money. He told her to take her picture and clear out if she had no - more sense than that. Then she asked him what he would give her for - it; and he replied that he would pay her eighteen shillings. With - trembling lips she said eighteen shillings would not be enough, she - must have more; would he not make it twenty-five? No, he replied, not - a penny more than eighteen shillings. Eventually, she left it on sale - or return, and was to call again in two or three days. It was an - exquisite little gem, and before the day was ended it was sold. A - gentleman bought it for ten guineas. Two days later, the artist called - again and saw the proprietor. Was her picture sold? Oh yes, it was - sold, and there was the money for it—eighteen shillings. The poor girl - began hysterically to beg for more, and to ask in agony, what should - she do? The dealer in art ordered her to leave his premises, and not - make a scene, or it would become unpleasant for her; and after vainly - trying to melt the heart of stone of the art man, she went away - cursing him. But he is a much respected churchwarden of St. Ronald’s. - Could a wronged girl’s curse touch _him?_” - - “GOING SHARES.—A gentleman had in his employment a skilled workman to - whom he paid thirty-five shillings a week, which is about the usual - wages for the sort of work he did. Ten years ago the workman saw how, - by a slight alteration in a machine, the work might be done much more - advantageously, and he told his master. ‘A very good idea, Smith,’ he - said; ‘can you manage to set it down in writing and make a drawing of - it?’ Smith did so, and the master had it patented. He has just died, - leaving a fortune of sixty thousand pounds, made chiefly, as all the - world knows, by that improved machine. Did he go shares with Smith? - Oh, yes! This is how he went shares: he gave him a pound for his idea; - and before he died Mr. Jones made things still more right by leaving - two hundred pounds to the hospital in which Smith is ending his days!” - - “A CASE OF STARVATION has just been brought to light in King Court. A - screaming child attracted the notice of the police, who broke into the - room from which the sounds issued. A dead woman lay on the bare floor, - and by her side a naked female child was endeavouring to awaken the - mother. There was not a scrap of food in the place, and the only - furniture was a wooden stool, a table, a ginger-beer bottle, and an - old blanket, which partly covered the body of the corpse. The room was - a very small one; the floor was broken in several places; there were - three broken panes of glass in the window; the walls were damp and - dirty, and the ceiling far from waterproof. An inquest will be held - to-morrow. It has been ascertained by our detective that the woman - paid four shillings a week for this room. We had some difficulty in - finding the real owner of the house; but we have discovered him to be - Mr. John Smith, of Albert Buildings. Mr. Smith is a deacon of the Duke - Street Church. The woman made sacks. By working thirteen hours a day - she could earn tenpence. She was employed by Mr. Samuel Sneed, of - Thames Place. Mr. Sneed attends the church of Mole Street. He is the - respected leader of the Band of Hope.” - - “A SHOCKING ACCIDENT has occurred in Westleigh, a London suburb, to - John Lane, the driver of a grocer’s van. His horse stumbled, and he - was thrown from his seat; the horse lost its footing and fell on the - unfortunate man. The vehicle was overturned, and it was with - difficulty the horse was removed; but when this had been accomplished - it was discovered that the man was dead. Two of his brothers - subsequently demanded his watch, each declaring himself to be the - elder, and the policeman gave it to the one whose appearance pointed - him out as the senior. A disgraceful fight ensued, during which the - watch got injured. The man has left a wife and three children; but as - the widow was too much overcome with grief to demand the watch for her - deceased husband’s eldest son, and no one spoke for her (_although two - parsons were in the crowd_), she has lost the watch as well as her - husband.” - - “MODERN GIRLS.—On Sunday evening, at seven o’clock, the servant left - in charge of No. 1. Freeman Street, was summoned to the door by a loud - peal of the bell. As soon as she opened it, a company of rough girls - rushed in, pushing the servant violently into a back room and locking - her in. They then proceeded to ransack the house, and appropriated all - the money, jewellery, plate, and other moveable articles they could - find, after which they took what food there was, and departed. It is - satisfactory to be able to state that these girls—fifteen in - number—were found spending the stolen money in the Half Moon - public-house, in Bull Street—satisfactory, because so many of these - things have occurred lately, and the police have not been able to - detect the offenders. Unfortunately, however, thirteen of the girls - managed to escape after the policemen who endeavoured to arrest them - had been severely beaten, and the house in which they were found - almost wrecked by them. They were angry because the landlord did not - bar his doors against the upholders of the law, and declared that - they, who had hitherto been his best customers, would ruin him. Our - detective has interviewed two of the girls who escaped, and they have - informed him that every one of the fifteen had at some time or other - been scholars in a Sunday-school.” - - “LAST NIGHT a band of boys and girls assembled in Oxford Street, and - for an hour held revelry there before the police succeeded in - dispersing them. Several persons were robbed, and an old lady was so - much hurt that she had to be taken to the hospital. The leader of the - gang was the son of the Rev. J. B. Yellowstone; and his seconder was - the son of Mr. Waller, an active Christian man and churchwarden.” - - “A SAILOR’S FREAK.—A young man, who was under orders to sail and - return in the steamship _Smart_, has been summoned for neglect of - duty. He was one of Miss King’s saints, and having been converted and - signed the pledge, announced his intention of never sailing under a - flag which waved above a cargo of alcohol going to foreign shores. But - the young prig reckoned without his host. He was compelled to keep his - engagement, although he made the discovery that the _Smart_ carried - both London gin and Scotch and Irish whisky. Somewhere out at sea the - ship fell in with a fleet of fishing-boats. It was found that the - _Smart_ was licensed, and the captain ordered the lad to serve the - customers who floated round the ship. This he refused to do. He was - put in chains, and kept on a diet of bread and water. But his - insubordination was repeated on several occasions, both while the ship - was on the sea and when she was in port. His defence was that he did - not engage to be a barman in a floating grog-shop, but that his work - was to help sail the ship. The magistrate, however, informed him that - he was to do as his captain bade him, and in order to enforce the - lesson he gave him six months’ hard labour. Our grandmotherly - legislators will, no doubt, ask a question to-night in the House.” - -But there were happier signs than these, which told that a new revival -was silently spreading among the churches. In confirmation of this, we -will give one more illustration from _Saints’ Society_. - - “QUIXOTIC SAINTS.—We are informed that a very lively scene took place - at Green Place Chapel, at a church meeting. The subject under - consideration was the debt on the chapel. The building is one of the - most ornate in the neighbourhood, and has a pretty spire and - stained-glass windows. The seats are lined and cushioned throughout. - The pulpit is of marble—the gift of Mr. Golden, the well-known - distiller. Upon the chapel there is a debt of nearly four thousand - pounds. The minister feels the pressure of this debt, and besought his - people to do their utmost to lessen it. Mr. Smith, one of the leading - men, made the following remarks:—‘Our minister is not the only one who - would be glad to see this debt removed, and I for one am prepared to - do what I can. I have the pleasure to hand over to the treasurer, on - my own behalf, a second donation of thirty pounds. And I am happy to - say that my daughters have, during the past month, been working for - the cause. They have written seven hundred letters to well-known - persons in all parts of the country, begging for help; and though I - grieve that, so strong is the spirit of worldliness in the land, more - than two-thirds of the persons addressed have not even had the - courtesy to respond, they have yet received cheques and postal orders - to the amount of twenty-seven pounds eighteen shillings and sixpence.’ - - “A working man in the meeting said, ‘Sir, it is our chapel and we - ought to pay for it ourselves. It is well known that our brother whose - daughters have been flooding the land with begging letters could, if - he would, write a cheque for the whole amount of the debt. The place - has been built in accordance with his wish, and I for one hope he will - see his way to give instead of beg.’ - - “Mr. Shelve, a gentleman in the middle of the room, next arose with a - beaming smile upon his countenance. ‘I, sir,’ he said, ‘am the bearer - of good news. Like our friend Mr. Smith, I have written a few letters, - and in response to one of these I have received this cheque for one - hundred pounds, which I have much pleasure in presenting in the name - of the giver.’ - - “Very loud applause followed this announcement, and then a man asked, - in a quiet voice, ‘Will Mr. Shelve kindly give us the name of the - generous friend?’ - - “‘Certainly,’ was the reply. ‘The munificent gift is from Mr. William - Quellset.’ - - “‘Then,’ said the questioner, who was still on his feet, ‘I beg to - propose that we respectfully return this cheque to the sender. Mr. - William Quellset can well afford to give a hundred pounds to this - chapel, and he is anxious to stand well with the people of this - neighbourhood, whom he intends, if possible, to represent in - Parliament. But no blessing could go with any amount of money from - such a man.’ - - “There was some interruption, and the speaker corrected himself. ‘I - beg pardon; I know nothing of the personal character of Mr. Quellset. - I will therefore change the form of my words and say, No blessing - could go with money made as he makes his. I suppose everybody knows - that he is the patentee of those lozenges which are so attractive that - probably the wives and daughters of nine-tenths of the men present are - eating them every day—the lozenges to which he has not given the name - of opium, but which have done more than anything else to make - opium-eating universal amongst us. As our Government grows opium, and - is anxious to sell it, it has contented itself, as you know, with - imposing a duty on Mr. Quellset’s articles, and many a statesman - quiets his conscience in regard to this growing evil by telling - himself that the country is enriched by this increase to its revenue. - Sir, the country is being ruined by it. The drink has slain its - thousands and opium is slaying its tens of thousands. Mr. Quellset has - found out how to make it palatable, and he has grown enormously rich; - but surely, sir, we do not now live in days when men think they can - purchase pardon and heaven by presenting to the Church a small part of - their ill-gotten gains. I hope there may be found some one to second - my proposition.’ - - “‘I will do so,’ said a blunt, uneducated man, ‘and I cry shame on any - church which, for the sake of adorning its building, will in such a - way as Mr. Shelve proposes thus make friends of the mammon of - unrighteousness.’ - - “‘Sir,’ said another, ‘I move that the grateful thanks of this church - be presented to Mr. Quellset for his munificent gift. We have been - patiently listening to a lot of arrant nonsense. We have nothing to do - with the way in which a man chooses to make his money. If we had, I - should say that Mr. Quellset has done the country more good than harm. - He has found a new employment for men, women, and children. He pays - better wages for box-making and all the other branches of his - industries than they could earn in many ways. It is not yet proved - that opium does more harm than alcohol; and, for my own part, I - believe that all these good gifts of God, taken in moderation, are - useful. And, besides, beggars must not be choosers, and it would be an - insane thing to return a man’s money when we need it so much.’ - - “Nevertheless” [added the journal], “this Quixotic company of saints - decided by a majority to return the cash, and pay its debts by the - practice of its own self-denial and generosity.” - -There were many quiet souls filled with piety and patriotism who thanked -God and took courage when they heard this, for there was a leaven -working in the real Christian society of the day which was destined -eventually to bring about a marvellous change. - -And this change, like almost everything else in England, had to do with -politics. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - IN THE AUTUMN. - - -Little Darentdale led the way. - -The summer had not yet died into winter, nor had the leisure which comes -into a country parish with the short days and long evenings left the -thoughts of the people free. Nevertheless, some time and thought were -given to an experiment which John Dallington, urged by Arthur Knight, -had proposed should be tested in the village. The village was a small -one, and it was almost wholly agricultural. There were about thirty -persons who were employers of labour, and the rest were employed by -them. Thirteen were looked up to as belonging to the moneyed classes, -and of these, Mr. Whitwell—who lived out of the village, but had -property in it—and John Dallington were the principal individuals. They -employed on their farms the largest number of labourers, but besides -these there were two smaller farmers, and several other persons who -owned or rented a few acres of land, a gentleman who had retired from -his business in London and had bought a good-sized house and garden, a -lady of limited income, who kept one servant, and the general -shopkeeper, who combined the businesses of chemist and druggist, draper, -grocer, and coal dealer, all in one. There were, besides, two bakers, a -blacksmith, a butcher, four publicans, and Henry Harris. - -“We have everything in our own hands,” said John Dallington, “and it -ought to be possible for us to have each man, woman, and child in our -care, if not under our control. We may not be able to make the villagers -religious; but surely it is possible so to govern our little world that -there shall be no poverty in it, but every one have a share in the -comforts and refinements which the richest enjoy. I find that we have -some poor to be relieved, and some evilly-disposed persons—the most poor -and the most miserable of all—who must be helped out of themselves.” - -There were eight persons in conference—the Vicar, the Rev. George -Emerson, the Baptist minister, the Rev. Henry Marshall, and the chief -supporter of the Methodists—Mr. Rouse, who was also the principal -tradesman in the place—Mr. Whitwell, and Dallington. There was here, -happily, no bitterness between the Clergyman and the Dissenting -ministers. The men knew each other so well that they had lost the -disposition for fighting. In theory, of course, Mr. Marshall thought the -Church should be disestablished, and when the time came he would do his -duty, and vote to that effect; in theory, too, Mr. Emerson thought the -Dissenters were schismatics, and ought to be repressed; but in practice -the men were brothers, who respected the good which they saw in each -other, and carried together the burden of the souls of the people. -Neither begrudged the other the success which came to him, both mourned -because they, though helped by the Salvationists and Methodists, failed -between them to bring to the house of God as many as two-thirds of the -people of Darentdale. But for this sympathy which existed between the -Christian workers of the denominations, Dallington would have had no -hope whatever for the success of his plan. - -They had before them a list of the inhabitants, the joint work of -Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell, which gave all necessary particulars -of the family and circumstances of each householder, together with -certain facts touching their character, religion, and occupation—a list -quite easily drawn up, since every individual was well known. - -“Our parochial system has already parcelled out the country,” began Mr. -Emerson. - -“And placed a gentleman in every parish,” quoted Mr. Marshall, with a -significant smile. - -“Exactly; and to help him teach the people the Free Churches have been -established, so that it is certainly not an impossible thing for us -together to provide religious instruction on the Sunday, and visitation -during the week. I do not quite know how it is that we have failed to -get hold of so many of the people.” - -“For part of the trouble our collections are responsible,” said Mr. -Marshall. “The working classes do not care to be asked continually for -money.” - -“I do not think they mind paying for what they have,” said the -Methodist. “The penny a week from our people comes in readily enough, -and the Salvation Army procures immense sums from the working-classes. -The real difficulty is that men do not consider religion a thing worth -paying for. They judge it by its professors, and pronounce it a fraud or -a failure, because so many of us are not what we declare religion makes -people to be. There is not enough difference between those who are -naturally good and those who profess to have been made good by grace.” - -“Exactly,” said the clergyman. “Among the poor and irreligious of this -village there is no man so highly respected as Mr. Harris, who never -darkens the doors of church or chapel.” - -“Yes; the carnal mind is still at enmity against God,” remarked the -Baptist minister. “But is not even that, to a great extent, because the -representatives of Christ have failed to prove that they are the -bringers of good tidings? What is your gospel of help to the people, Mr. -Dallington?” - -“Better wages, better homes, more leisure, better amusements, better -education,” he replied, promptly; “every Christian employer the friend -and brother of his own people; every church the centre of a religious -activity which leaves none near it untouched by brotherly love. And -charity begins at home, and everybody is to look after his own -neighbour.” - -The little company knew that he was himself doing that which he urged -them to do, and this gave him the greater power and influence. - -The meeting was a very practical one. The farmers declared that they -would slightly increase the wages of their men, and follow Dallington’s -plan. Each cottager should have a strip of land for a garden, and every -one who was willing to repair his own house during the winter should -have the materials given him. They knew that Dallington had set before -him the task of winning back the whole of his inheritance, but he would -not do it at the expense of the comfort and well-being of his men. Mr. -Whitwell was not so rich as he was thought to be, but a few pounds could -be spared which, paid in shillings, would make all the difference to the -families of some of his men. The only thing which had hitherto prevented -him from paying more in some cases was his desire not to appear more -generous than his neighbours. - -It was agreed at the meeting that there should be an invitation sent to -all the better-class people in the village to come to the vicarage for -consultation. After that, “all who professed and called themselves -Christians” were invited to the same place, the vicarage being selected -instead of the schoolroom of the Baptist Chapel, out of deference to the -bigotry of a few Church people. - -And so it was decided that when November came a wonderful thing should -happen. But in the meantime the summer lingered, and John Dallington was -in love with it. One fine morning he said, “I am amazed at the manner in -which English people libel their own climate. Never were such perfect -summer days as these; nor is there, in any part of the world, grander -harvest scenery.” As he spoke his eyes looked lovingly over the prospect -before him, which was, indeed, a pleasant one. The remark was made to -two of his cousins, Edith and Tom, who had ridden over to Darentdale -with a message from their father, and having delivered it to the young -farmer, whom they found where he ought to have been, among his fields, -were lingering by his side. John’s hand was on the neck of the horse on -which his youngest cousin sat, and she glanced at him with a smile half -merry and half sad as he spoke. - -“Yes, I am glad that for once the season is behaving properly,” she -said. “It does not often, and it is well that you should not find -everything disappointing. All your hay is safely in, I see; so is ours, -and father is better tempered than ever in consequence. But don’t be too -sanguine. Remember the proverb, ‘Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, -for he shall not be disappointed.’ I should be sorry to suggest evil; -but there are such things, even in this magnificent English climate, as -storms of wind and rain, and even hail, that spoil the crops of the most -hopeful men.” - -“But they will surely respect John’s crops,” said Edith, “especially -after he has so complimented the weather. I am glad you are courageous -enough to grow corn at all, for it will scarcely pay you to compete with -the foreign wheat in the market. England will soon cease to be a -corn-growing country.” - -“Never mind; let England grow men,” said Dallington, “and all the other -lands grow corn for them to eat. You know the English-speaking race is -destined to dominate the world.” - -“Say the worlds, while you are about it, John. You are a true Englishman -in conceit of your country. I think the dominant race might be -improved,” remarked Tom. - -“So do I; but we are getting on all the same. The real aristocracy—that -of character—is realising its power a little, and before you are many -years older, Tom, you will see a change.” - -“Yes? Then I promise that when it comes I will remember the words of the -prophet John.” - -“You are winning golden opinions from your labourers,” said Edith. “You -have followed father’s example, I hear, and given them pieces of ground -for their own use. Now that so much of the land produces nothing but -grass it will not mean as great a loss to you as gain to them. Old -Benham said to me, ‘Lor’, miss, our young master be a brick, and no -mistake;’ and, you know, to be called a brick is the highest praise any -one can hope for.” - -“I suppose that is because I have told him he shall have as many bricks -as he likes with which to build a wing to his house.” - -“I am afraid your men will not take the trouble to do the work, even -though you give the time and material.” - -“I think they will,” said John, quietly. “Indeed, I am sure of it; and -this is another prophecy for you to remember, Tom. Are you not coming -into the house? How tired you look!” - -Tom answered hastily: “No, we cannot call; we saw Mr. Hunter as we -passed, and father will be expecting us.” - -“Tom is not well,” said Edith; “she is always tired now; she has lost -her appetite, and she does not sleep. I want father to let us go away -for a change——” - -“Do not be stupid, Edith,” interrupted Tom, irritably; “I am all right, -and where could we find purer air and more bracing breezes than on our -own farm? The sea? Oh, it is not half as good as this! Besides, think of -the poor wretches in London being baked and boiled in stifling streets -and rooms! Good-bye, John, and a good harvest to you.” - -“Tom,” he said, “the poor people in London will not be any cooler -because you deny yourself sea-breezes.” But Tom only lifted her hat in -her most gentlemanly fashion, and rode away with a smile on her lips -that quivered with pain the next moment. - -John was very fond of his cousin, and was really troubled at the change -which he saw in her appearance, and which he felt also, though he could -not define it. He would probably have ridden after her, but that his -mind was turning in another direction than that of Hornby Hall, for he -knew that Margaret Miller was at Scourby, and, guessing that she would -walk home in the evening, he was resolved at all hazards to meet her. - -Margaret’s home was in the centre of the pretty Darentdale Village, and -the name of it was “The Old House”—a name which was appropriate since it -was the oldest dwelling in the place. The other inhabitants were a man -whom she called grandfather, whose name was Henry Harris, and his -housekeeper, Ann Johnson. The Old House had originally belonged to John -Dallington’s uncle, Captain Frank Dallington, and it was he who brought -Harris to Darentdale. Margaret came with them, and since she was but a -child they at once made inquiries for a suitable person to act as -foster-mother to her as well as housekeeper to Harris. Ann Johnson -presented herself, and was accepted; nor had there been reason to regret -the appointment, for she had proved herself warm-hearted, if somewhat -rough, and entirely trustworthy, though peculiar. The Old House had -previously been empty for some time, for Captain Dallington would -neither let it nor live in it; but he had it furbished up and -comfortably furnished, and then he spent some months in it with Harris. -There were plenty of rooms in the house, and one of them which faced the -front was turned into a bookseller’s shop. But Darentdale folk were not -great readers, and the trade was so small that the people became rather -suspicious about the shop, and often wondered where Harris got the money -to enable him to live comfortably. He, however, vouchsafed no -information, and when Ann Johnson was questioned, she always began -telling a tale about somebody or other, instead of giving a definite -answer, so the Darentdalers had nothing left but to exercise their -imagination. Mr. Harris was for some time no favourite in the place. -Some said he was an atheist, though he was pronounced generally to be -neither one thing nor the other. He did not go to either of the inns to -spend his evenings sociably with his neighbours; but neither when a -Temperance Mission was held did he don the Blue Ribbon. As to politics, -he acknowledged that he was neither a Tory nor a Radical, but voted for -the best man—as if the man had anything to do with it when there was the -party to support! The villagers did not know what to make of a man who -never called others names, and had no principles at all. But he had now -been at Darentdale fifteen years, and it was strange how few people -there were in the parish who, at some time or other, had not been helped -by Henry Harris. There was nobody like him for getting another out of a -difficulty, and almost every one had been glad to avail himself of the -unostentatious assistance that was always ready. But some people liked -Harris less on that account, and a few whom he had served the most were -the most sure that they owed him a grudge. It is only noble people who -know how to accept help gracefully. - -Nobody disliked him more than John Dallington’s mother. But she had more -reason than others for her disaffection, because she had a settled -conviction that Harris and his granddaughter had money which she ought -to have. Captain Dallington, who was always a wanderer, did not return -to Darentdale after he had installed Harris and the child in the Old -House. He had now been dead some years, and when his will was read his -brother and his wife were astonished to find how little he had to leave. -What he had was bequeathed to his relatives, excepting “the Old House, -and all that was in it,” which was left to Henry Harris and Margaret -Miller after him. The phrase—“and all that is in it”—had given John -Dallington’s mother many an unhappy hour. - -But what it was that was in it nobody outside the house knew, excepting -that for the last few years there was in that Old House the most -beautiful and interesting girl that Darentdale ever owned. It was not -her beauty alone, nor her tall, graceful figure, nor her musical voice, -nor her sweet, brown eyes that were the attraction; but there was a -charm about her that could not be named, and generally could not be -resisted. Most people loved Margaret, even those who did not want to. - -Margaret, visiting Mrs. Wythburn, found her preparing for her departure. -“We have made up our minds,” she said, “to go to London. Mary is there, -and my husband believes that we shall be able to find her if we watch -there. So we have taken rooms as near as possible to the Bank; and we -quite hope to be successful in our search. We are willing that she -should remain at the work she has chosen to do; and we shall no doubt -eventually live in London altogether.” - -“But it is a pity to leave the country for London now, when the weather -is so unusually hot.” - -“Our child is enduring the heat somewhere, and so can we. Besides, we -cannot stay at Scourby. Do you know that Alfred Greenholme is already -engaged to Hilda Copeland?” - -“No; but I am not surprised. She is far more suitable for him than our -splendid Mary, who never could have been happy as his wife. I hope you -are not letting that trouble you, Mrs. Wythburn?” - -“Perhaps it is annoyance rather than trouble. Mrs. Greenholme herself -told me, and naturally, I had an unpleasant ordeal to go through. But -the worst of it is, Margaret, that the people are setting very -disagreeable stories afloat. Mrs. Greenholme said it was reported in the -town that Mary and Dr. Stapleton had gone off together.” - -“Oh, the slanderous tongues! How dare they give utterance to such -abominable falsehoods! I should feel disposed to try to trace the lie to -its source, though really it would be waste of time, for no one who -knows Mary could believe it.” - -“But I am sure that something is wrong with Dr. Stapleton. He is not in -the least like himself. He looks ten years older since Mary’s -disappearance. And his charges are almost double what they were. He is -making the poor pay now, which, you know, he never did before, for he -has always been most attentive and kind to those who could not pay him. -He is often away, and cannot be found; and when he is summoned he is -absent-minded and disagreeable. And people say all this looks -suspicious, especially as he and Mary were known to be great friends.” - -“Oh, my dear Mrs. Wythburn, every one will know that it is only a -coincidence! Dr. Stapleton must have some trouble which he does not care -to publish; but, of course, it has nothing to do with Mary. I am very -sorry for him; he has always been so kind and good. But I hope for every -reason that Mary will soon let you know where she is, and then all this -will be made right.” - -Mr. Wythburn entered the house while they were talking, and he was in -excellent spirits. - -“We shall be happy to see you in London, Margaret. We have not yet -selected our town house, but when we have there will be a room for you -in it. And we are going to catch Mary and chastise her. We have spoiled -the child by sparing the rod. Now we shall alter all that!” - -“It is rather late to begin, is it not?” - -“Better late than never. But do you know, Margaret, I am coming to think -that Mary is right. Some of us do not deserve to be called Christians, -or to have any comfort, because we spend our lives on such a low level. -Mary shall train up her parents in the way they should go.” - -“That will suit Mary very well, no doubt; for that is what all young -people feel called upon to do in these days.” - -“And I think we needn’t be very unhappy about her. I am thankful that on -her birthday I made over that money to her and gave her the cheque-book. -She will not want for anything that money can buy, and that is a great -comfort.” - -“Let me help you to get ready,” suggested Margaret; and before she left -the boxes were packed, the carriage was ordered, and Mr. and Mrs. -Wythburn were almost as jubilant as if they were going to London on -their honeymoon. - -The hot afternoon was wearing towards evening when Margaret started on -her homeward journey. She elected to walk, for it was delightful to be -out of doors, and having nothing to cause her to hasten her steps, she -might linger in the green lanes and sunny fields as long as she pleased, -and so the burden of care was rolled away. - -How blue the skies were and how fresh was the air! Margaret felt that -everything was friendly towards her. The flowers seemed to look into her -eyes as she touched them with caressing fingers. She had always a -feeling that they knew who loved them, and could be happy or sad as -other and bigger things were. She never gathered them to die in hot -rooms, or faint their lives away, plucked and then neglected. She loved -and cared for them, and thought they knew it. The birds were growing -silent, but a few even now sang to her, and she answered them. - - Yes, my Father cares for you, - Little birds amid the blue; - Praise Him, and I praise Him, too. - - You know little of His care; - I, who feel Him everywhere, - Voice my love in praise and prayer. - - You a little while may sing: - I will love and praise my King, - Yonder, in unending spring. - -There was no one in sight, and Margaret’s sweet, clear voice rose and -fell as she pleased. Presently she was too happy even to sing, for God -seemed so near to her, and all things so glad that her eyes grew dim for -very sympathy with the world. A little aside from the path, and near a -gate, was a beautiful ash-tree, whose roots provided a comfortable seat, -and she sat down to rest, and was presently lost in thought. Some one -was approaching, but she did not see or hear him until he was almost -close to her. Then she arose and turned, her face lighted with the -thought that had been last in her mind, and confronted John Dallington. - -He came eagerly forward, a great gladness in his heart. - -Margaret was glad, too, as the rose colour in her face might have told -him, and she lifted her eyes a moment to his with all the pleasure in -them; but they fell before his gaze, for it told her almost too much. - -“Which way are you going? Home? So am I. Let us go together—_together_.” -He lingered on the word, for it was sweet to him—he would that they -should always go together! “Margaret, say you are glad to see me, if you -honestly can.” - -“I am unfeignedly glad,” said Margaret in a low voice, and she asked -herself how she could possibly be other than glad? But she was almost -frightened to find how great the joy was, and how necessary it became -that she should keep her feelings under control. - -Ah! what a walk that was! They were both so young and so noble—so -loving, too,—and all Nature was in sympathy with them. They had plenty -to say—at least Dallington had; but the moments when they said nothing, -and a soft silence fell upon them, were the sweetest, for they were side -by side, and could glance into each other’s eyes when they did not hear -the voice which was to the other the best-loved music of the world. - -Time passes swiftly under such conditions, and the distance across the -fields appeared as nothing. Quite before they expected it the spire of -Darentdale Church became visible, and then Dallington turned from the -path. - -“Let us go this way,” he said. “We do not want to get home just yet, do -we?” Margaret hesitated. He asked, “Are you too tired to go farther?” - -“No; I am certainly not too tired,” she said. “But I have been away all -day, and my grandfather may have wanted me. I must return soon.” - -“Very well; we will not go far. But tell me about yourself,” he said. -“Do you know that I went to the chapel on my first Sunday evening at -home, and saw you?” - -“Yes, I know.” - -“I wondered very much what made you do that thing? It could not have -been pleasant; was it?” - -“Indeed, it was not.” Margaret was silent for a few minutes; and then -she continued, in the low tones which she always used when she was -deeply moved, “The fact is, that a change has come over me lately. I was -always helped to form habits which were of the better sort, and I -thought myself a very good Christian until a little while ago, when, -after I had read a book opposed to Christianity, I began to really study -the New Testament.” - -“And what did you find?” - -“I found Christ.” - -“Of course!” - -“No; it was not ‘of course’ at all. I had read it many times, and found -a great deal about Him that was interesting and beautiful. But I had not -found _Him_, which is quite a different thing. It is as if I had been in -the dark, and a sudden flash had lighted up everything.” - -“I wish the flash would come to me! I am anxious to see that Sermon on -the Mount put into living form.” - -“But it can never be while it is considered to be merely an exquisite -literary production, to be praised and patronised. It has to be -acknowledged as a code of laws absolutely binding on those who profess -to be the disciples of Him who proclaimed it. But it is impossible for -these laws to be entirely obeyed except by those who have found in -Christ the Regenerator of themselves. Don’t you think so? I used to -admire Him and venerate Him, and perhaps fear Him a little; but now it -is all so different; I know Him, a living, reliable, present Friend and -Companion. And I love Him because He first loved me.” - -Dallington looked into the beautiful eyes, alive with feeling, and said, -“And He is really _real_ to you?” - -“Real to me?” she cried. “I am not more real to myself. And it is all so -wonderful!” - -“And that ceremony in the chapel was the outcome of all this? And, I -suppose, you mean to live up to it?” - -“I am certainly going to try.” - -“Margaret let us try together. I cannot let you go without telling you -that which is my heart. Do you remember what the last words were which I -said to you before I went away?” - -Margaret had grown pale, and was trembling. “You must not say them -again,” she said. - -“But, indeed, I have been saying them ever since, and I shall say them -as long as we both live. I chose you for my own dear love when I was a -boy, and now that I see you as you are—oh, Margaret, surely you must -love me a little, because you see how dear you have been to me all these -years!” - -“But you know,” said Margaret, very gently, “that I must not let myself -care for you. The old reasons remain still.” - -“I know of no reason in the world that should keep us apart. When I -spoke to you before I was not my own master; but now I am free to decide -for myself. Oh, my darling, if you love me we shall be so happy.” - -Margaret turned from his pleading eyes as she answered, “You have the -duties and responsibilities of your position. You must not be unfaithful -to them. And you must not marry one who is beneath you; and——” - -“Beneath me! Oh, Margaret, do not talk nonsense! I cannot bear it. The -only inequality there is between you and me is that I am not half worthy -of you, not half good enough for you. And you know already that I have -my troubles—money troubles, and others—so that life is going to be a -fight for me, as it is for most men. I am very much worried already. No -man needs a good wife to help him more than I.” - -“I hope you will find one, my friend,” said Margaret, bravely. “No one -would rejoice more heartily than I to see you happy and prosperous. You -must look for some one who can help you financially as well as in every -other way.” - -Dallington laughed a little bitterly. “My mother has been telling me to -marry money. I scarcely expected Margaret Miller to give me the same -advice. You are like the rest of the world after all, I suppose. Do you -mean to marry money too, Margaret?” - -“Are you going to be cruel to me?” - -“No, dear; but neither must you be to me. Margaret, listen to me. I will -not persecute you with unwelcome attentions; but I will not give you up -until I discover that you are promised to another. You have grown so -lovely and so sweet that, of course, you may have already learnt to care -for some one else”—Margaret smiled—“but I do not think you have; and if -you say No to-day, I shall ask you again. I have thought of you in every -land to which I have gone. I have compared, or rather, contrasted—all -women with you. Once, when I was ill, a strange feeling came over me -that you were praying for me. It was my greatest hope when I returned to -England that at last you would accept me. I have been very faithful to -you, Margaret, because I love you—I love you! Darling, give me my answer -now.” - -They were standing under the shade of a tree in the lane behind -Margaret’s home, and none saw or heard but the birds. The girl hesitated -for a few seconds. It was no use to try to persuade herself that she did -not care for him, for she knew better. He was searching her face with -eager eyes, and she dared not meet his passionate gaze. She had given -him love for love all along, and it was this that made it impossible for -her to care for those who in his absence had sought her hand. Ah! yes, -she loved him, and because she did his happiness should be dearer to her -than her own. Oh! if she could believe that it would be really best for -him, so that she might give him the answer he wanted, and which was -throbbing in her heart and trembling on her lips! Might she? Dare she? -True love is always humble, and there were strong reasons why Margaret’s -should be especially so; and yet—— - -“Margaret, my darling, you do care for me!” he said, and he drew her -gently toward him. - -“Care for you? Oh, John, John!” It was no use; love is stronger than -anything. She yielded herself for a moment to his arms, and he took his -first sweet kiss of love. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - IN PARADISE. - - -Who is responsible for the naming of places? - -Paradises and Edens are plentiful in London, if there is anything in -names: but some of them have surely received their cognomens in bitter -irony. Near Mr. Knight’s premises was a court which was called -Nightingale Lane, and another known as Wild Rose Court, the houses in -which were, most of them, a disgrace to civilisation. But there was -another, containing about seventy dwellings, which rejoiced in the name -of Paradise Grove. Away at the church, the sound of whose bells came in -a sort of muffled music, they used sometimes to sing about Paradise in -the anthem— - - O Paradise! O Paradise! - Who doth not crave for rest? - Who would not seek the happy land - Where they that love are blest? - -But this Paradise was hot and close and dreadfully dirty. At the open -windows of the little houses men sat in ragged shirts and trousers, and -worked off and on every day but Monday. There was a smell of dirt -everywhere, and the children, escaping from the vigilance of the School -Board officer, lay about in the dusty road until they looked like heaps -of dust themselves. As for the language heard in Paradise, it was -astonishingly bad. The men could scarcely utter a sentence without -bringing in some oaths. The children, even when they meant to say -good-natured things to each other, used the foulest of our language; -and, worst of all, the girls raised yells of laughter by their filthy -conversation. There was not a tree in Paradise Grove, nor a flower of -any kind, but weeds grew there, and ill thoughts and utter misery. - -Were there no churches or chapels or missions near? - -Oh, yes! But the Grove people did not believe in Christianity, and -declared themselves against humbugs. They were fond of that word, and -applied it to every one who was in any way better than themselves. - -No one had succeeded in effecting an entrance into the hearts of the -inhabitants of Paradise Grove until a young woman, plainly dressed in -grey cloak and hat, and having a sweet, sad face, had called at the -doors with a basket of articles which she was anxious to sell. The -people looked at her a little suspiciously at first. If she had brought -tracts and magazines, she might go where she came from; they had had -such visitors before. But she assured them, with a smile, that tracts -and magazines were not in her line. She had large pieces of beautiful -soap, exceedingly cheap, and would sell for a halfpenny a piece big -enough for the whole family. And she had good scrubbing-brushes and -hairbrushes, for which she would take a few pence only; and little white -table cloths; no one knew what a difference it made to a room if a white -cloth were put on a table before the loaf was placed upon it. The Grove -men and women thought it perfect nonsense. Where was the good of wasting -money over such extravagances as table-cloths? There was some sense in -getting more to eat. When the people had their way, and right was done, -chickens and hares and pheasants would be within the reach of the poor. -If one of them could be placed beside the loaf, _that_ would be -something worth talking about. But in the meantime the woman’s things -were certainly cheap, and she appeared very anxious to sell them; so now -and then a purchase was made—especially when the women found that they -could pawn the articles for as much as, or more than, they had given for -them. - -By degrees the woman and her basket had come to be familiar objects in -Paradise Grove, and the people had grown to like her a little. She never -attempted to meddle with them or lecture them. They tried once or twice -to shock and frighten her; but she did not seem afraid; only, at first, -it was noticed that if two men or women happened to be quarrelling and -fighting when she came, she turned faint, and had to leave the -neighbourhood. She never could be got to take sides in a quarrel; and -now and then, very gently and unassumingly, she tried to put in a -peacemaking or quieting word, but generally she was content to sell the -articles she had brought, and explain their use. - -The best of all was that the woman seemed to know about ailments, and -what could cure them. There was always some one ill in Paradise Grove, -and “the Basket Woman,” as they called her, carried medicine which -generally did the sick ones good. Also, she made a very pleasant drink. -It was not ale, for you could drink a gallon of it, and it would not get -into your head; but it tasted something like ale, and was almost as -nice. - -But whether it was crockery, or medicine, or drink, the woman never -would give it away or sell it on trust. Her wares were both cheap and -good, but she would be paid for them; and so when she came they had to -find their money. And this very fact caused them to respect her and -themselves. Some of the women got quite an air of independence as they -talked to her, and some of the men, respectable in whole shirts which -she had sold them, held up their heads with an expression of superiority -which was altogether new. - -Certainly the most popular person in Paradise was the “Basket Woman.” -But one day a Paradise girl, who rejoiced in the name of Fan Burton, -spread through the Grove the news that their “Basket Woman” was not a -basket woman at all, but a lady, who only pretended to sell things that -she might “get round them.” Fanny had seen her dressed and talking to a -gentleman. Why this should make any difference it would be difficult to -tell; but after Fan had cleverly and maliciously circulated this news, -the women chose to feel themselves “sold,” and a strange reaction set -in. “She has had us nicely!” said Fan. “Let’s pay her out for it. I -shouldn’t wonder if she turns out one of them female detectives, or, -perhaps, she’s worse; how do we know as that drink and medicine ain’t -poison? I don’t trust her one bit. Well, I ain’t had none of her -rubbish, except a scrubbing-brush, and that can’t hurt me much.” - -Then other women took the same tone; one especially told how she had -been impudent enough to interfere when Mrs. Broggins beat her Sammy, as -if a woman mightn’t do what she liked with her own brat. And what -business was it of that Basket Woman’s, so long as Sammy wasn’t killed? -She talked about fetching the police, she did—ah! she forgot herself -then; she was mostly a meek-faced thing enough, but everybody had seen -how she flared up about that boy—“a himperant, hinterferen ’ussy” as she -was! - -Things looked rather black for the Basket Woman; and it would have been -well if some one could have warned her. But there was no one to do it, -and she came into the Grove as usual, with a smile upon her face. - -“I beg your pardon,” she said, pleasantly, “I dare say you know as well -as anybody how to knit?” - -“It ain’t no business of yours whether I do or not,” said the woman, in -tones that became louder with every word. Then a shout came down the -road. “Basket Woman! come here! I want a talk with you.” - -A loud guffaw from all the women at all the doors showed that something -had happened to make the dwellers in the Grove angry. The Basket Woman -was not very courageous, and her first impulse was to fly; but she went -toward the person who had called her. - -“Will you have some wool?” she asked. But the person addressed turned -angrily upon her. - -“Wool, indeed? No; nor anything else that you have. I’ll tell you what -you are! You are a sneaking hypocrite.” - -A flush shot over the refined face, the basket was put down, and she -faced the woman and the group that had gathered curiously around her. -“Now, what is the matter? And what does all this mean?” - -A torrent of abuse was poured upon her. She stood perfectly still, and -her face was now white but firm. Presently, when there was a lull, she -said, in a quiet, penetrating voice, “How hard and unkind you women can -be!” - -“Clear out! We don’t want none of your tongue!” - -“I shall not go until you have let me say one thing,” she said, becoming -suddenly brave. “I have as much right as anybody to come here and try to -sell things. Why are you angry with me? Have I ever done you any harm?” - -There were more shouts of scorn and anger, and nobody was courageous -enough to say a word in favour of the stranger. In the crowd was a woman -whose child she had nursed through two nights of croup, and another -whose house she had cleaned because the mistress’s hand had been hurt. -The Basket Woman looked into the faces of these women with pathetic -wonder and disappointment, while all sorts of things were shouted at her -and of her. Then she turned sorrowfully, and, taking up her basket, -walked slowly out of the court. - -“I hope you will let me come again, when you are not quite so angry with -me, because I like you, and I thought some of you were my friends.” - -As she said the words her eyes fell on the face of Fanny Burton, who -looked sorry for her part in the matter, and who felt more than a little -doubtful as to whether she had not made a mistake. But the woman herself -was so sorely disappointed that the tears sprang to her eyes, and her -lips quivered, as she slowly, and with gentle dignity, made her way -along the court to the street at the end of it. - -“Drive her out!” somebody hissed presently, and then there was sound of -hurrying feet behind her. She quickened her steps a little, but before -she reached the entrance to the court a big boy of eighteen came hastily -behind her and gave her a push of so violent a character that she was -propelled suddenly into the street and fell. With a wild yell the women -took to their heels, and, running up Paradise Grove, disappeared in -their houses. - -The Basket Woman lay stunned in the street, her head having come in -contact with the kerb-stone, and she remained for several moments -insensible. - -A lady who was passing in her carriage had seen the sudden rush in the -street, and immediately went to the aid of the prostrate woman. Some -water was brought, and presently the white eyelids opened. - -“My carriage is here,” said the lady, who had been intently regarding -her. “Let me take you home with me for some tea.” - -“Oh, no, thank you! My home is quite near. I can reach it, I am all -right now.” - -“You belong to the Helpful Ministry, I can see,” said the lady, “by -whatever name you may call yourself; and you have received quite the -customary thanks and pay. My name is Wentworth, and I love girls, and am -glad to find any who need mothering; and just now you need not only a -mother’s love, but a mother’s skill also. Come with me.” - -The Basket Woman sighed, and glanced at the kind face beside her. But -the next moment she grew frightened, and answered hastily, “Oh, no, I -cannot do that. Thank you so much, but I would rather go to my lodging.” - -“Very well, I will help you,” said Miss Wentworth, for it was she. “No? -I must not do that? Ah! I quite understand. But you may trust me. Here -is my card. Will you promise to come and see me? If not, I shall not -leave until I know where to find you.” - -It was very tiresome, the Basket Woman thought; but she took the card, -and gave the promise, and then crept back to her lodging, and went at -once to her bed, where she remained for some days, with ample time and -opportunity for testing the efficacy of her own medicines. Truth to -tell, while enduring considerable pain and weakness, she much wished -that she could have accepted the kind invitation of Miss Wentworth; but -afterwards she was glad she had not. As soon as she was able she called -on that lady, but was relieved to find that she was out. And then she -gave herself afresh to her work. Paradise Grove was her own “happy -hunting-ground,” and, therefore, she had taken two rooms, and thoroughly -whitewashed and cleaned them, and lived among the people. She was glad -to find that the ill-feeling which had been roused against her seemed -all to have died out, and, as there never had been any in her heart, she -went on with her work as if nothing had happened. She was needed just -then for a bad case of sickness, and before that duty was through an -incident occurred in connection with Fanny Burton that gave the Basket -Woman great joy. - -It was Sunday, and Paradise Grove was less savoury than usual. It was -also more active, for most of the cleaning and washing were done on that -day. Sunday, too, was the grand cooking-day of the week; everybody in -the Grove tried to get a little hot meat on the Sunday. Often it was not -possible, for in the Grove were many of the victims of London’s cruel -sweating system, and many a woman worked fourteen hours a day for less -than a shilling. Considering this terrible fight for life, and the -environments of these people, the wonder was that they were not worse -than they were. Happily, however, the system was doomed, for England was -determined not to endure it, and public opinion was so severe on the -sweaters themselves that their number became less every month. There was -in process of formation a new Volunteer Corps, which already numbered -thousands of employers of labour, who were sworn to abolish slavery in -London, and set every man, woman, and child free. The Basket Woman, like -many others, was preparing the way for this consummation. - -Fanny Burton was busy on Sunday morning. First she helped her mother -scrub the floor of the living room, and then she washed and ironed a -pair of cuffs and a pocket handkerchief; next she brushed her Sunday -dress, putting a stitch here and there to make it tidy. The fact was -that Fanny was going out. George Green had invited her, and she had -consented, to take a walk to Harleigh Furze; and, as she herself would -have said, she was “counting on it,” not altogether for George’s sake, -but still more for the sake of the flowers and the ferns; for this poor, -uneducated girl, who spent the greater part of her life in a close -factory, had the love of flowers born with her. - -“Hurry on the dinner, mother,” she said; “I want to go out.” - -“Very well; you must get it ready yourself, then,” was the curt reply. -“Nobody else can please you.” - -After dinner Fanny hastened from the Grove to the appointed rendezvous -to meet George. He was not there, and the girl waited nearly half an -hour before he appeared. When he came there was a sheepish look on his -face. “How are you, Fan? You won’t mind, will you, if Drom Jones goes -with us? She asked me to take her, and I couldn’t say we wouldn’t have -her. And we won’t go to the Furze. Drom wants to go to Addington Park -instead, because it’s nearer.” - -A look of scorn came into Fanny’s eyes. Andromeda Jones (the Paradise -Grove people were fond of fine names) was no favourite of hers, and -George knew that. - -“I have been counting on Harleigh Furze all the week,” she said, “and I -shall go there. You can take Drom Jones to the Park if you like. It will -not be the first shabby trick you have played me, George Green, but it -will be the last.” - -“Don’t be stupid, Fan. What is a fellow to do?” - -“What he likes.” - -At this moment Andromeda herself appeared on the scene, and, without -another word, Fanny walked away. - -But it was not until she had quite got away from the houses, and had -walked some distance from the tram terminus, that she succeeded in -overcoming the ill-humour that possessed her; and when she entered a -field where no one was in sight, the first thing she did was to sit down -upon a green bank and shed a few hot tears—not many, for Fanny was a -girl of spirit, and did not indulge in such weaknesses as a rule. It was -not jealousy in regard to George Green that troubled her, for after the -first feeling of annoyance had passed away she did not give him a -thought, but a restlessness that had taken possession of her, and that -caused her to feel her own life to be altogether unsatisfactory. Not -that it had ever occurred to her to think about her life until lately; -but a subtle change had been going on within the girl which could -scarcely be explained or accounted for. Fanny was active and curious, -and had the desire to know which characterises some young folk. She had -been sent to school long enough to learn to read, and she devoured -everything that came in her way. Her knowledge, therefore, was of a very -miscellaneous kind. Such periodicals as Paradise Grove affected were -always read by her, for she borrowed every scrap that she saw, and until -lately no girl more loved to shock the sensibilities of the Christian -girls working beside her with impudent and blasphemous assertions than -Fanny Burton. But, thanks to the Basket Woman, Fanny had certainly been -growing more quiet and less confident lately. Instead of glorying in her -surroundings she was sickened by them, and there had sprung up within -her a great scorn of herself and her own people, and an awakening desire -after better things. - -And here was the girl on a beautiful Sunday afternoon away from the dirt -and the heat of Paradise Grove, and face to face with Nature. Every step -that she took drew her farther from the town and closer to the heart of -the green forest. The flowers grew in the hedge, the daisies kissed her -feet, the soft air fanned her face, and the tall grasses thrust -themselves caressingly into her ungloved hands. It seemed that a great -hush settled down upon her, and a new refinement of feeling, and then a -strange hunger after God. The unbelievers’ words and works, the clamour -of the court where she lived, the riotous behaviour and noisy talk of -companions, seemed to be like things she had known in a bad dream; and -now she was living in a new life. Was it earth or heaven? And would the -great God—in whom, after all, she did hope—take notice of poor Fan -Burton? I do not think that the feelings which so moved this girl would -have been called into existence had she gone to the woods in company -with her associates, or had the occasion been the annual picnic of the -factory where she worked, or even a Sunday-school treat, where she was -one of several hundreds. But she was alone with Nature and with God; and -perhaps if we could make this possible to those for whom we build -mission-halls, and provide crowded meetings, others would be similarly -affected. - -The girl walked or rested, with some new beauty to arrest her at every -step, and with peaceful, purifying thoughts floating in her mind, until -presently there came through the trees the sweet sound of church bells -chiming their invitation to prayer. For a few moments, with clasped -hands, and eyes that dared to look earnestly up to the blue skies, she -stood and listened; and then, impelled by she knew not what, she knelt -on the grass and offered her first prayer—a prayer odd enough to raise a -smile if there had been any one to hear it, but sincere enough to win -its way to heaven. - -“Our Father which art in heaven, if You can hear me, and if You can help -me, please do. I am so hard and so wrong, and such a fool, that I don’t -know nothing, but I want to know, and I want to be better; please make -me want it more. If You will help me I’ll try to be good, for Thine is -the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen. There, -now, I’ve prayed; I really have prayed; and if there is Anything to -hear, something will come of it. Anyway, it has done me good to pray, -and I will go back home and see what is to be done next.” - -Sweeter than ever seemed the flowers, and greener the trees, as the girl -walked quietly and reluctantly away from the wood, feeling almost as if -something new was going to happen. Nothing did happen until she had -nearly reached Paradise Grove, and then she saw a crowd. - -“What is it, Bet?” she asked of one of the girls who was standing near. - -“Only the Salvation Army, as usual, come to convert us all,” was the -reply. - -Fanny did not laugh, as her custom was, but she went toward the crowd, -and pushed her way in and listened. A man was talking of the love of God -and somehow Fanny understood it, for her mind was full of the beautiful -sights and sounds of the wood, which seemed to make the fact of God’s -love not only possible, but most likely to her. She had heard it all -before, but did not understand the whole of the address. The words which -the speaker, in common with all evangelists, used bewildered her. “Come -to Jesus! Will you not come now and be saved?” - -After the address a hymn was sung, “How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds!” -and then there was a prayer, and the meeting was over. - -Fanny had been watching her opportunity, and as the speaker moved away -she laid a hand on his arm. “Tell me,” she said, “tell me quietly what -you mean. How am I to come to Jesus?” - -“In prayer,” said the man. “Jesus can hear every word you say just as -well as when He was on earth; and He says, ‘Come unto Me.’ You ask Him -to save and forgive you, and He will.” - -A girl with a Salvation Army bonnet on came up, and was about to take -possession of Fanny, but she, looking up, saw the Basket Woman, who had -no basket, as it was Sunday, and who was regarding the scene with -interest. She saw something in Fanny’s eyes as they met hers; and this -friend of the people understood, and was at the girl’s side in a moment. - -“What is it?” she asked, gently. “Can I do anything for you? Your name -is Fanny Burton, isn’t it? Will you come into my room, and have a talk -with me?” - -Fanny looked rather frightened, but she turned her face toward the home -of the Basket Woman, who shook hands with the Salvation Army girl as if -she were her friend. - -“I know Miss Burton—she lives near me, and I should like to help her if -I may,” she said courteously; and the other, with equal good feeling, -quitted the court and joined her friends. - -“You have never been to my home, have you, Fanny? I am glad you are -coming now.” - -The room into which Fanny went was plainly furnished and was -scrupulously clean. On the table were a snowy cloth and shining glasses, -and two or three knives and forks, which Fanny thought looked like -silver. There was a delicious scent of coffee, too, in the place, and, -as the girl looked around, she thought, “This is too good for me.” - -“I will not stay now, thank you,” she said aloud. “Perhaps I will come -again another time, when you have had your supper, or whatever it is.” - -“Oh, don’t say so. I do not like to eat alone. You do not know how dull -it is to be quite lonely, especially on Sunday,” said the Basket Woman, -and Fanny saw that there were tears in her eyes. Fanny yielded -instantly; and while they had the simple meal together the Basket Woman -talked to her on all sorts of things. When the meal was over, and the -coffee drunk, they sat together in the pleasant room, and Fanny told her -friend where she had been, and some of the things she had seen. - -“Oh, Fanny, I wish I had been with you! I love the country so much. You -went by tram, I suppose?” - -“Yes; and then I walked a long way. I think it was the beautiful fields -that made me feel queer.” - -“Queer? How do you mean, Fanny?” - -“They made me sorry I am so bad, and they made me feel as if I want to -be better.” - -“Yes; that is just how they make me feel. Some day, Fanny, not on Sunday -though—perhaps next Saturday afternoon, if you can spare the time—I -should like so much to go into the country with you. Would you be -willing?” - -“Yes; I should like it ever so much.” - -“Then we will go together, if nothing happens to prevent. I was glad to -see you listening to the Salvation Army. Did you ever go to -Sunday-school?” - -“Yes; when I was a little thing I used to go sometimes. There is a -Mission-school, you know, just round the corner, where me and the others -went.” - -“And why did you leave?” - -“Oh, we didn’t like the teacher for one thing; and, for another, it was -hot and close; and I like to walk about the streets much better. I wish -I hadn’t left, though, now.” - -“You can go back again; I am sure they would be glad to see you. Why do -you wish you had not left?” - -“Because, perhaps, if I had stayed I should have known more. I want to -know things. I know nothing. I could not even understand what the -Salvation man said.” She paused a moment, and then her eyes suddenly -flashed into the grave, kind face before her, and she said impetuously, -“Oh, do tell me if it is all real—religion, I mean, and God, and Jesus -Christ, and heaven, and all that they talk so much about!” - -“Oh, yes, Fanny! It is quite real. I am more sure of that than ever.” - -“Then please will you tell me all about it?” - -The lady thus appealed to had surprised herself by the dogmatic manner -in which she had asserted the reality of the Christian faith. The truth -was that she had often doubted, and sometimes been inclined to believe -nothing; yet now that a soul looked to her for light all the doubts -seemed strangely to vanish, and all the old lessons came back to her, as -she told the story of the Christ, and His beautiful life, and the great -kingdom which He came to set up. It was longer than a sermon, but Fanny -listened, with her eyes on the face that kindled with joyous -earnestness, and it never occurred to her to yawn or feel tired. - -“And I am sure,” she said at last, “that if only we do what He wants us -to do, and are not selfish and wicked, but are true and kind, that is -the best way to be happy. And He will show us all the rest.” - -And then a warm impulse moved her, and she put her arm suddenly around -Fan’s waist and drew her to her knees, and spoke softly to the Father in -heaven for both of them, and asked the living, loving Saviour to reveal -His grace to the girl by her side. It was done in the most natural -manner, and only occupied one or two minutes; but when they arose, Fan -was secured as a loyal disciple for ever. - -“And I will never forget it,” she said, through her tears. “I love you; -I know you are a lady, and not used to this sort of thing, and only come -to do us good; and it was my fault that you were set on that time; but -you don’t know how I will love you!” - -“And you will really be my friend, Fanny, and help me? Ah, then we will -make our Grove more like Paradise than it has ever been before! Do you -think you could persuade the boys of the Grove to come and spend their -evenings with me, and will you help me entertain them, and see that they -have a real good time? I want to get them out of the streets, and teach -them how to enjoy better things than pitch-and-toss, and swearing and -cheating. But, of course, they will not come if my evenings are dull. I -mean them to be very lively; and as you know what sort of things they -like, your aid will be invaluable.” - -“Yes, I will come with pleasure. I know all the boys in the court, and -believe I could persuade them, one and all, to spend their evenings with -us; that is, if we make it worth their while. I won’t quite exactly -promise every evening until I have talked it over with my mother. I -didn’t use to think so much of my mother as I do now; but I’ve thought a -deal about her lately, and I’m going to make things better for mother. -There ain’t no sense in trying to do other people good, and neglecting -your own mother, is there?” - -What made the Basket Woman blush and look conscience-smitten and -uncomfortable? She did not speak for a moment or two, and then, in a -faltering voice, she said: “You are quite right, Fanny; ask your mother, -and I will ask mine.” - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - OUR PARISH. - - -The harvest was over, and it had been a good one. The usual festivities -were held, and were more really joyous than such occasions frequently -are. Already in many parts of the country the true leaders of the people -were looking forward to the winter, not only in preparation, but with -resolution, and were manfully determined that, if they could not prevent -the usual sin, they would prevent some of the attendant misery of the -days of cold and gloom. Arthur Knight was doing the work of two or three -men. His brain was busy in regard to his own people; but whenever and -wherever it was possible he was preaching his Gospel of Christian unity -for the world’s good. By the seaside, in the mission hall, in -drawing-rooms, in chapels by the dozen he was entreating, in words made -eloquent by feeling, that the Church would no longer mourn over the -evils of the world, but would set itself by one great united effort to -remedy them. And, happily, Knight was only one; there were a dozen other -men saying and writing the same thing. - -And it was little Darentdale that led the way. By the aid of quiet -visits and persuasive talk a number of persons had been led to acquiesce -in the plan of making this special harvest festival the occasion for a -new start, which made almost every heart in the village glad, for most -working men and women had the surprise of a rise of wages—“for no -earthly reason,” the people said, but for a very heavenly reason, as all -knew who were in the secret. This was what everybody could appreciate, -and did. The additional money was no great sum; in many cases it was -only a shilling a week, and with it was expressed, as delicately as -possible, a hope that it would not find its way into the publican’s -hands; nor did it, for the event made the men desire their families to -share it. The beauty of the increase lay in the fact that it had been -voluntarily and freely given, without any threat of a strike, and even -without the asking. That was the wonder of it! - -Nor was this all. There were a few loafers in the parish, and every one -of these received on the same day an offer of regular work at good -wages. There were several who had lost their characters, and each of -these had another chance given him. The lads and girls who had left the -Sunday-school received an invitation to tea at some ladies’ or -gentlemen’s home the next Sunday. Work was found for all who could work, -and even for poor old people who could do very little, so that they -might still feel themselves independent, and not fear the workhouse. In -connection with each of the churches a room was to be fitted up for the -purpose of “a girls’ parlour,” or a “boys’ reading-room.” An invitation -to an “At Home,” with music and coffee, was signed by Margaret and Tom, -and sent to every man who was known to frequent the public-house; while -those who were steady, and especially those of the people who were -members of Christian churches, were urged to “Come themselves and bring -their mates with them.” - -So Darentdale led the way. It was all arranged quietly and without -ostentation, and this is what was accomplished—there was no poor person -in the parish to whom no friendship and help was offered. It was the -gladdest day the place had ever known; for there is no joy so great as -that of “offering willingly” that which we have to men for Christ’s -sake. “It _is_ more blessed to give than to receive.” “There _is_ that -scattereth and yet increaseth.” There was no man who took the extra -money (which was not given as a favour, but yielded as if it were a -right—as, indeed, in most cases it was) who did not resolve that he -would put in a better week’s work for the better week’s wage; but it was -no shrewd anticipation of this which gave to such men as Whitwell, -Dallington, and others the exuberance of that never-to-be-forgotten-day. -It would mean more work and self-denial for themselves, they knew; but -they faced most joyously all that was involved in the effort which they -were making. - -Of course there were a few people who shut themselves out of the feast, -and sneered at the music and dancing, all the more angrily because they -knew that they were not sharers in some strange joy which they could not -understand. Mrs. Hunter and her stepson were among the number. William -smoked more cigars in that one day than he had ever consumed in the same -space of time before, for his nerves needed soothing. - -“It is more than a sane fellow can comprehend—madness, I call it,” he -said, between the whiffs; “throwing money away on the lower orders. I -told John so this morning; and what do you think he said?” - -“I cannot tell, indeed; something about universal brotherhood or other -nonsense of the same kind,” said John’s mother. - -“He said there were no lower orders!” - -“Indeed?” - -“Yes; he said there must always be masters and men—persons who -represented property and persons who represented labour: those who -worked with the head and those who worked with the hands; but no -Christian man had a right to selfishly keep his riches to himself; and -that in this country, with all the money that is going, no one ought to -know the meaning of the word ‘poverty’; and that it was adding insult to -injury to speak of lower orders.” - -“And what did you say?” - -“‘Bosh!’ and he said ‘Perhaps,’ and then I said ‘Rot!’ and he laughed. -And I told him he was going dead against the Bible, and casting pearls -before swine; and that, instead of thanking him, they would turn again -and rend him. And he said he was not doing it in the hope of getting -thanks, and was paid as he went on, whatever that might mean; and I -called him a fool.” - -“You did?” - -“Yes, I did; but I thought it better not to let him hear me.” - -“He will bring ruin upon us all with these stupid, new-fangled notions.” - -“He says they are not new-fangled, but as old as the Gospel and the -Sermon on the Mount.” - -“I cannot understand it. Somebody has got hold of him. I suppose -Margaret Miller and Arthur Knight have between them turned his brain.” - -“A set of hypocrites, pretending to be so much better than their -neighbours! I have no patience with them. But it won’t last.” - -“No; it won’t last.” - -There were four or five other houses in Darentdale where those who stood -aloof from the new movement tried to comfort themselves also, as well as -they could, by declaring that it would not last, and no good would come -of it. - -Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell had a royal time, assisted by the other -young ladies of the village. “Margaret, can you find out what they do at -‘the public,’” asked Tom, “because I am going to compete with the -publican for the favour of the men of our parish?” - -“There is, first of all, the drink.” - -“Yes; but my sisters are clever in the matter of eating and drinking. -They have coached me up in a few facts, the most important of which is -that the way to a man’s soul, as well as his heart, lies through his -stomach. We have acted accordingly, and I really think that our viands -are appetising enough to insure any man’s reform.” - -“And the men like to be amused, you know; they cannot get on without -that.” - -“Well, Margaret, you must sing your sweetest, and I will talk to them. -They liked to be talked to, don’t they? especially about politics.” - -“Most of all, I think a man likes to spend his evenings in an armchair -in a warm, well-lighted room, with a pipe in his mouth, something to -drink at his elbow, and a newspaper in his hand.” - -“If they could but do without the pipe! But I suppose that would be too -great a sacrifice. And it is no use to try to ‘wind them up too high for -mortal man beneath the sky’; we must take them as they are. Old Benham -once said to me, ‘I ham as I ham, and I can’t be no hammer!’ There is a -profound truth in that remark, don’t you think so, Margaret? But I am -glad we have made up our minds to do something for our brothers and -sisters. The inequalities of life have often made me bitter.” - -“And how must poor women have felt who have struggled to bring up -respectably a family of children on the money that it has cost us for -dress!” - -The “At Home” was a great success. Two better persons to manage it could -not have been found than Margaret and Tom. They had the rare gift of -always being natural. Many a philanthropic endeavour fails because the -ladies and gentlemen, though striving to do their best, and longing to -be useful, cannot feel perfectly at home among the poor, and make them -feel the same. The latter often mistake the stiffness, which is more the -result of nervousness than anything else, for patronage and -condescension, and they are very quick to resent anything of that kind. -It was greatly because Margaret and Tom were already respected and -beloved that their invitation was so almost universally accepted. They -had some fun, both with the men and the women. - -“Christmas comes early this year, Miss Tom, don’t it?” one asked, with a -wink at the men who sat opposite to him. - -“Does it, Nelson? I think it is about the same time as usual. My -almanack declares it to be on the 25th of December, as it was last year, -if you remember rightly.” - -“Oh! I thought tea-fights and such things only comed at Christmas. -What’s all this mean, miss? Are religious people more religious than -usual, or what?” - -“It only means that they are more friendly than usual.” - -“They want to get us, don’t they?” The man’s eyes were twinkling; but -Tom answered quite seriously, “Yes, Nelson, they want very much indeed -to get you.” - -“And they are willing to bid for us in tea-fights, and coffee, and even -fires and newspapers?” - -“Yes; and anything else that they can think of.” - -“Ah! that’s just what I says to my mate. I says, ‘It’s like the -’lections used to be.’ I’ve had many a glass of whisky for a vote; and I -ain’t much of a hand at politics, so I voted honest for the man as -treated me most liberal; and so I will now. I ain’t much of a hand at -sermons and prayers neither, but I wouldn’t mind obliging either church -or chapel for once in a way, if they’re after bidding for us; but, of -course, Miss Tom, I values myself at the highest price, as is only -natural.” - -“Quite natural, Nelson. But you are mistaken this time. The churches and -chapels are not bidding against each other; the people who”—Tom -hesitated—“who are good, you know, are joining together to try and make -things a little better and more happy for those who are not as well off -as themselves. That is all it means.” - -“And ain’t we agoing to be persuaded to go neither to church nor to -chapel?” - -“No; though we should all be glad if you went somewhere—we don’t care -where. You would have a welcome in either case, of course.” - -“Well, that beats all!” said Nelson. “And is this ’ere room to be -lighted up comfortably every night for us?” - -“Yes, it is; and we shall be glad if you will all come every night and -enjoy it.” - -“What’s this stuff I’m a-drinking, Miss Tom?” - -“Beer.” - -“What sort o’ beer?” - -“Very nice beer, isn’t it?” - -“Yes, it’s A 1, and I’ve had four glasses; but it ain’t reg’lar beer, -cause, however much you drinks, you don’t get any forrader with it. It -won’t make you drunk, will it, now?” - -“You surely do not want it to make you drunk, do you?” - -“Well—no—not as I knows on,” said Nelson, slowly; and the men around him -laughed. - -“I used to go to church when I were a boy,” said another man, Benham; -“but if I go anywhere now, I goes to the Methodists when they has the -open-air service. It don’t agree with my health to be shut up in a close -church or chapel.” - -“I suppose you find a bar-room better ventilated?” said Tom; and this -time the laugh was against Benham. - -“I used to go to church when I were a boy,” echoed another man. “My -father were one of the singers, and he left all through a quarrel about -a anthem. He wanted ‘All people that on earth do dwell’; but another man -wanted ‘I will arise’; my father wouldn’t give way, nor the other man -neither. Father says, ‘It shall be “All people that on earth do dwell,”’ -and the t’other says, ‘Cuss “All people that on earth do dwell”’; and my -father put on his hat, and walked out of the church forthwith, and he -never entered it again till he were carried there; and that is the -truth, and I do not deceive you.” - -The last words were spoken so solemnly that Tom had to beat a retreat. -But the evening passed pleasantly enough, and Margaret’s singing was -greatly appreciated. - -The next night the attendance was less, for some of the men spent the -evening at the public-houses, talking the matter over; but our friends -were not discouraged. They resolved to keep on—and wait. They were -trying to feel their way, and by a wise judiciousness overcome the -suspicion and opposition which they would probably encounter. - -But from that seed-sowing harvest day could be dated a most beneficent -change in Darentdale. The homes of the people put on a more comfortable -appearance, and the spiritless women, feeling that something was -expected of them in return for the sympathy and help which they -received, began to be more sprightly, and to take some pride in making -their rooms not only clean but pretty. By the end of the year but few -had grown weary in well-doing, and in many hearts that had been hopeless -before new hopes were springing up. - -No one more approved this effort for the people than Mr. Harris. He -contributed nothing to the cakes and tea, but he had done a kindness on -his own account that was very acceptable, for he had presented every -poor person with an armchair! And this he did as a sort of -thank-offering for the pleasure it was to him to know that a good man -cared for his Margaret. - -But a few days after the harvest festival Margaret’s mind was -considerably disturbed by an anonymous letter. It ran thus:—“A friend -sends you this word of warning. Why do you try to tempt a gentleman from -his duty and fealty to another? Already you and yours have wrongful -possession of a house and money that by right belong to him. Will you -rob him also of his good name, and cast a blight over his life? If you -care for him you will not do this; unless, indeed, you are false and -fast. Two hearts will break if he be drawn into your meshes; for who and -what are you, and _who were your parents?_ Has he come back to his -native land to be beguiled by one who will but try to drag him down to -her own level? His friends are determined to prevent this sacrifice; so -you will but cause him and them the more trouble by your guile. A stigma -attaches to you, which God forbid that he should share.” - -To the last sentence Margaret breathed a fervent Amen. But it will be -readily imagined that this letter caused her a very bad half-hour. Had -she really an enemy—she who was used to seeing nothing but kindness in -every face? And, if so, what was the enemy’s name? She could not tell. - -But the pain had a greater sting in it when the thought suggested itself -that perhaps this letter was not the work of an enemy, but of a friend. -For, after all, there was some truth in it. Who and what was she, and -who were her people? She really could not answer the question, for she -did not know. And that was the reason why she had hesitated to accept -John Dallington. - -“The time has surely come for me to know,” she said. “I have had vague -fears, but they must be either dispelled or confirmed now. It is not -fair to me or any one else that I should be left in any uncertainty.” - -Mr. Harris had a cosy little room opening out of the shop, and here he -usually sat during eight hours of every day in case a customer should -come and require books, papers, or stationery. “I am for the eight-hour -movement,” he used to say, with a significant smile at Margaret. “Eight -hours are long enough for any man to work.” - -And she always agreed with him. “Especially when it is such arduous work -as yours, Graf, requiring such close attention to detail, so exhausting -for the brain and the arms, as indeed all work is in these days of -fierce competition. How much did you take over the counter -yesterday—fourpence halfpenny?” - -“Oh, I had a good day! I sold a copy of Browning’s poems, and the -purchaser appeared much pleased with it.” The purchaser in almost every -case would be himself, for few Darentdalers bought books or read them, -and those who did sent to London or ordered them through a bookseller in -Scourby. But Margaret and her grandfather had much quiet fun over the -shop, and were decidedly its best customers. - -Margaret loved the old man, and was as tender as a daughter could be -toward him; and how much he cared for her all the years of her life had -told. It was, nevertheless, difficult for her to broach the subject that -was uppermost in her mind. - -“Has there been a great rush of customers to-day, Graf?” - -“Well, I have been quite busy enough for the greater part of the day. -Newspapers have sold well; they are very interesting, for Parliament was -last night discussing the question of adopting that new gun—a noiseless, -smokeless weapon which can kill at the distance of a mile and fire three -hundred shots in succession. Other nations are adopting it, and -Christian England must not be behind. One good thing about it is that -any number of armies could be annihilated in a day; so if the battles -are fierce they will not be long.” - -“Dreadful! Surely they will never fight again now that killing is so -easy and so certain?” - -“I don’t know; I hope not. I think not, if England would lead the way, -as she ought, and would be always for peace.” - -“I am feeling very warlike this evening, Graf.” - -“Are you, Margaret? You are young to suffer from nervous irritability. -Do you feel as if you want to bang something?” - -“Yes, I do.” - -“Go up the house and down the house and bang all the doors. No? You want -something human? I am quite at your service, my dear—bang me! I am -substantial enough for anything.” - -“Graf, you are generally young and frivolous when I want you to be staid -and serious. Something has happened to me, and I need help and advice.” - -“Really and truly, my child?” - -“Yes; very really and truly, indeed. I have had an anonymous letter.” - -“Don’t read it, Margaret. I have had many such in my time, denouncing me -as a sceptic and an atheist, and consigning me to the lowest regions. -They don’t hurt you much when you are used to them. Put your letter in -the fire unread, and forget all about it.” - -“But I have read it, grandfather; I could not help that, and I want you -to read it, too.” - -“I think it would be better not.” - -“Please, because I wish it.” - -The old man read it through twice, and then looked at Margaret, with a -curious smile. “You need not mind this in the least,” he said. “I -suppose you know who wrote it?” - -“I have not the slightest idea.” - -“No? It was Mrs. Hunter, John Dallington’s mother.” - -“Mrs. Hunter! Oh! surely not? What can make you think that?” - -“I do not think it; I am sure of it. There has been an attempt to -disguise the writing, but it is certainly Mrs. Hunter’s. Now, my dear, -never tell any one that you have had it as long as you live. Burn it, -and forget all about it. That is the only thing to do.” - -“Graf, you must be mistaken; it could not be Mrs. Hunter.” - -“Very well, my dear. Settle it so, and welcome. But I do not believe -there is any one else in Darentdale who would have done it, unless her -stepson did it, and I am sure he did not. Never mind who wrote it, -Margaret, nor what is in it. Somebody is afraid that Dallington has -fallen in love with you. It is a proof of his great good sense and -intelligence that the suspicion is correct.” - -“Grandfather,” said Margaret, in grave tones and with trembling lips, -“you have seen what this letter says. Please tell me, who am I?” - -Mr. Harris began to look troubled, but he answered, “You are Margaret -Miller. I can tell you no more than that.” - -“Oh, but you must!” said the girl, pleadingly. “It is not kind to me; it -is not right to withhold anything from me that touches me so closely.” - -“Margaret, I can tell you one fact. You are fit to mate with John -Dallington or any other man. Your parents were good people, and occupied -a high position. They were married in Spain, and I was present at their -wedding.” - -“Which of them was your child, grandfather?” - -Harris hesitated, but Margaret was urgent. - -“The time has surely come for you to be open with me,” she said. “Dear -old Graf, I cannot bear to trouble you; I hate myself for doing it. If -you think I ought not to ask you, I will try to be silent; but it is -hard to have a stigma resting upon me.” - -“Child,” he said, angrily, “there is no stigma of any kind attaching to -you! Have I not told you so already?” - -“Graf, do not be angry with me. Which of my parents was your child?” -Margaret repeated. - -“Neither,” said Harris, and he looked white and pained; “but if you had -been my own child I could not have cared more for you, and you could not -have given me more joy through all these years. Your parents both died -of cholera in Spain—one two days after the other. There were perils that -beset their only child; and from these you were rescued by Mr. -Dallington, who was under an obligation to your father, and who, in -order to pay it, adopted you; and whose will provided for you by leaving -this house and all that is in it to you after me.” - -“And is my name Margaret Miller, really?” - -“Yes, that is your name.” - -“But there is a secret somewhere?” - -“There is; but the secret belongs to the dead. No person living is -affected by it; and it will die with me, for I swore not to reveal it; -nor will I, neither at the bidding of hate, nor of love. You know -enough, Margaret. Be content.” - -Margaret bowed her head. “Thank you for telling me so much,” she said; -“and for the years of love and kindness which have made my life so happy -that I have scarcely missed my father and mother.” - -“I have but done my duty and kept my promise. And you see that you owe -me nothing, Margaret, not even the obedience and love of a -granddaughter.” - -“Dear Graf, I owe you everything—all the gratitude, goodwill, and -affection of which I am capable. And I will never forget it. We will be -just as happy together now as we have always been, and forget the -anonymous letter. I am sure that there is not a grain of truth in the -insinuation that we are enjoying money that ought to belong to others.” - -“You know quite well, Margaret, that a man has a right to leave his -property to whomsoever he pleases. Mr. Dallington was an eccentric man; -but he was only right and just when he took care that you should want -for nothing. It was his duty to do this—mark what I am saying, -Margaret—_his duty_. He would have been culpable if he had not done it. -But he did it in a curious, unusual way. Some day I will tell you where -you will find, on these premises, enough hard cash to maintain you in -the comfort you have been used to, and, at the rate at which it is spent -now, until you are eighty years old. Now, Madge, my child, you know all -that I can tell you; and it is nobody’s business but ours. I want to -talk to you on another subject. We have all our troubles, my dear”—the -old man sighed as he said it—“and they are not very big ones either, for -they give us more worry than pain. But a very little worry is large -enough to spoil a life if we will let it. You will not let this thing -overshadow your life—if I know you, I am sure you will not—for you are a -believer in the Christ——” - -“And so are you, Graf,” interpolated Margaret. - -“And it seems plain to me, though, as everybody knows, I am a sceptic -and an unbeliever, that He meant all His followers to live the same kind -of life as He lived. Therefore, my child, you will put yourself on one -side in this matter. Such petty things as anonymous letters are beneath -you now; you must be invulnerable to the little stings which would force -your thoughts upon yourself. Be a large-minded, large-hearted Christian, -or none at all, Margaret. Christianity is not a creed; it is a life. -Don’t you think so?” - -“I do, indeed, thanks to your teaching.” - -“Oh, no! I am a very irreligious person; but I do not want you to be.” - -Margaret was right in saying that she owed everything to this old man, -whom so many denounced. “He is perishing in his sins,” a man had said of -him once, because, when he had been invited to a special service, he had -replied with a laugh that he would rather have one to himself by the -river. But Margaret, whom none ever heard say an unkind thing of -another, whose very presence raised the tone of a garden party, who was -the champion of the absent, whose loving nature made itself felt -everywhere, had formed her opinions and habits after those of her -guardian, and was much the better for it. - -“Graf,” said Margaret, “a young woman has no right to come between a -mother and a son, has she? If Mrs. Hunter regards me in this way I am -sure Mr. Dallington must be unhappy about it.” - -“I advise you not to mention this letter to him. He gave me to -understand that he was not in a position to marry immediately; and while -you are waiting things may right themselves. In any case, he is of age, -and has a right to choose his own wife. I am glad he has chosen my -child. He took me by surprise, though, because I thought he would marry -Miss Tom Whitwell—for I have fancied many times since his return that -she cared for him. But everything is as it should be. Hear what Browning -says, ‘God’s in His heaven, all’s right with the world.’” - -But the talk and the letter caused Margaret a sleepless night, though it -was not so much the letter as the suggestion about her friend, Tom -Whitwell. Can it be true? she asked herself many times; and she was half -afraid it was, now that she thought things through. But she did not keep -the trouble to herself; and her cry, “Show me the right, and give me -strength to do it!” was certain of an answer. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - A NEW ORDER. - - -Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell read together an account of some -meetings at which Arthur Knight had been speaking, and they confided to -each other their own ideas on the subject. As the reader knows, each had -her own reason for anxiety and trouble; but each felt that this was a -time for laying all personal affairs and feelings on one side, and doing -her part in the New Crusade which was being fought. - -“We ought to do so, Margaret,” said Tom, “because I believe that for the -existing state of things women must bear much of the blame. We have left -off sending our knights to battle for God and the right, and we -encourage them instead to take to money-grubbing in the city.” - -“A good deal of heroism of a certain kind is practised, though, even -thus,” replied Margaret. “Many a man who raises himself from a lowly -position to a lofty one does it much more for the sake of his wife and -children than for his own.” - -“Oh, yes! And dies on the field, content to have won a carriage for his -widow, and funds for the gambling purposes of his sons. What astonishes -me is that women can accept such heroic sacrifices for such small ends. -But I am afraid that we are all becoming about as mean as mice; at -least, if we are to be measured by the topics of our talk at afternoon -tea.” - -“Ah! but we are not. We are so foolishly and wickedly afraid of -revealing our best to one another that we pretend to be as frivolous and -heartless as we possibly can. It is a great fraud, and some of us have -eyes keen enough to see through it. I always find it difficult to keep -from laughing when you, Tom, make believe to be interested in the -edifying tales that are told about your neighbours.” - -“It is abominable, Margaret, and I hate it. Fine companions for true men -are we, if we are to be judged by our own representations of ourselves! -And we might do so much; for we really have a good deal of power over -men.” - -Margaret smiled significantly. - -“‘Ah! wasteful woman,’” she quoted. “And yet, you know, there is nothing -a woman really cares so much about as the good opinion of her male -friends.” - -“Oh, I know it is the men’s fault in the first place; but we are to be -their helpers, not their slaves.” - -“I will tell you where I think our help might come in. You remember when -we were in London last we saw quite a crowd of girls coming out of a -low-looking public-house, some of them half-tipsy?” - -“I should think I do remember it. Who that had once seen such a sight -could ever forget it?” - -“But the girls would never have gone in of themselves. It was because of -the young men who were there. The girls would be easily dealt with if -once they could understand that that sort of thing disgusts men.” - -“Ah! but it doesn’t.” - -“I am not quite sure of that. I believe it does—for every man has a -better and a worse self, and everything depends upon which part of the -man’s nature is influenced by the woman whom he loves.” - -At this point of the conversation Tom asked a very peculiar and personal -question, which brought the colour to her friend’s face. - -“Margaret, have you any money?” - -“I have a little, enough for my needs.” - -“What I have been wondering is whether you and I together could spare -some for the rent of a drawing-room in London near that particular -public-house, where we could try our Darentdale plan with those -creatures who are neither boys nor men. People say that almost any lad, -even the roughest, will treat a gentlewoman with courtesy. We could -invite them, before they go into that place, to come into ours, and -there you might talk to them in your own way, and perhaps I in mine. We -might give two evenings in a week. Our people would not mind if we were -together, and we could get home easily, though a little late, for the -trains are so good. If we can only succeed in a small way it is worth -while to try.” - -“Oh, Tom, how brave you are! Something of the kind has been floating in -my own mind, but I should never have had the courage to try without -you.” - -When the true history of the world comes to be written it will be seen -how much in this remarkably formative period in England was commenced in -just such a simple manner as this talk between our two friends. - - -It was on a cold, drizzling night, when the London streets were as -uncomfortable as only London streets can be, that two well-dressed young -ladies went up to a group of boys, all somewhere in their teens, and -invited them to come in and have a cup of hot coffee and some buttered -toast. The fair, smiling faces of the girls and their friendly and -gracious manners forced the boys to courtesy, and eight of them—about -half the number—consented. They looked at their dirty hands and boots -when they were taken into the drawing-room with comical seriousness. - -“Oh, never mind!” said Tom. “Look at my boots; you cannot keep clean on -such a night as this. Have the coffee while it is hot. And here are some -potted beef sandwiches. Perhaps you have not yet had your teas?” - -The boys laughed. “We have had our teas,” said one. “A hextra meal don’t -make no difference to the likes of us.” - -And so, indeed, it seemed; for the coffee and eatables disappeared in -almost no time. - -The boys were not as much surprised as boys would have been twenty years -before, at the invitation. - -“They are trying another dodge on us, that’s all,” whispered one to his -mates; but they looked with a little curiosity when the plates and cups -had been collected; and when, for a moment or two, the ladies had left -the room, a brisk bit of betting went on. - -“Ten to one on Music!” “Thirteen to one on Sign the Pledge!” “Twenty to -one agin Gambling—look out!” - -“We cannot tell how glad we are to see you,” said Tom, rather nervously, -as she took her seat. “You can spare time to stop a little while, cannot -you?” - -“That depends,” said one. “I’ve got a pressing engagement—very pressing, -indeed; but I’m always ready to oblige a lady, specially such a stunner -as you, miss.” - -“Thank you; much obliged for the compliment. Well, we are going to tell -you a story. You like tales, don’t you?” - -“Yes; but not true ones, mind.” - -“Very well. Miss Miller will tell the first and I the second.” - -No one guessed the trouble to which the narrators had gone to prepare -these stories, nor the numbers of dreadful boys’ books through which -they had waded in order to get some idea of the style which would be -acceptable. Some hair-breadth escapes there were, and a few things to -laugh at, especially in Margaret’s, which she told so effectively that -her audience was spell-bound. It was the story of a poor boy, dreadfully -tried and tempted, who, by his self-control, and because, though he -sometimes did the wrong, he loved the right, made his way in the world, -and won the gratitude and respect of all who knew him. It was a good -story, well told, and the boys applauded it vigorously. - -“That is a story of up, up, up,” said one. - -“It is,” replied Tom. “That is a clever title for it, and mine is a -story of down, down, down!” - -“Of course, the fellow was a religious cove.” - -“Certainly; he would not have done as he did if he had not had _Some -One_ to help him.” - -“Ah, but we ain’t religious—not much!” - -“No? Ah! that accounts for some things,” said Tom, glancing at the rags -and the dirt and the unkempt hair of the speaker—a glance so eloquent -that every one understood it. - -“Now let’s have yourn, miss; my engagements is a-pressing me like -anythink.” - -Tom was not herself prepared for the effect upon the boys which her -recital had, and Margaret listened in amazement. She made the boy in the -story live before her listeners, so that they seemed to know him, and -were entirely in sympathy with him. They knew all about his -uncomfortable home, and his tobacco money, and his bets. He was a nice -fellow, too, and good-natured to his “pals” at first; but just because -he was selfish and weak, and could not say No at the right time, and -because he never called upon God except to blaspheme Him, and because he -wouldn’t be a teetotaller, and was so altogether mistaken in his ideas -about manliness and honour, his end was full of misery. Tom’s eyes -filled with tears, and her voice trembled as she described the downward -progress of this boy and his death; and when she finished with a little -prayer, “O Lord! for Jesus Christ’s sake, save these boys from all -that!” she could not repress a sob, which awoke an answer in the hearts -of almost all the boys. - -The boys were subdued as they went away, and two or three, at least, -resolved to make their lives from that night a story of “Up, up, up.” -Most of them came on the next appointed evening, and brought others with -them. Of course, all meetings were not successes; nor did the boys -invariably continue to be interested. All workers have some -disappointments, and Margaret and Tom had many. The habits already -formed by the boys were not suddenly broken, nor was the evil in them -readily subdued. But the effort was yet a remarkably prosperous one; -and, though small in its beginning, it was the commencement of a very -great thing indeed. It was not quite at first evangelistic, in the usual -sense of the word, but it soon became so in the largest and fullest -sense. Our friends would not easily forget the first devotional ten -minutes they spent with the boys, nor did they. - -“They was the realest prayers I ever heered, and they fairly knocked me -down,” said one of the boys. - -“But we mustn’t have the ladies knocked down, and some of the chaps, and -the gals, too, are mad about this thing; so we’ll conduct them to the -station.” - -And when that evening was over Tom said, admiringly, “What gentlemen -they are!” - -After a time they saw that the thing would be too big for them to cope -with alone. They needed some one older, who resided in London, to help -and advise them. And at this juncture Tom remembered that she had heard -her cousin speak of a lady who would probably be interested in this -movement. - -“Margaret,” she said, “My cousin John has told me of a Miss Wentworth, -whom he met on board-ship, who is very kind and philanthropic. I will -get a letter of introduction from him, and we will call and see her -to-morrow.” - -This was done, and the older worker welcomed the young ones with great -cordiality, and listened full of sympathy to the tale they had to tell. - -“The thought has been given to you by God,” she said. “All our hopes for -the future are in the young, and especially in the boys. I have myself -thought how well it would pay for Christian women to give up all other -work, and devote themselves to mothers and the children alone. My house -is entirely at your service; I shall consider it most honoured to be -used in any way for the promotion of this enterprise. As for myself, I -am an old woman, and cannot do much; but anything and everything which I -can do will be most gladly done. Do not scruple to ask me for money, or -service, or room. If only for Mr. Dallington’s sake, I should like to -prove myself your friend.” - -The girls were fortunate in having found so able a helper, and they -promised that Miss Wentworth should at once be taken into their complete -confidence. - -The first result of this was that that lady invited by letter all the -gentlemen’s boys whom she knew, and Margaret and Tom had a drawing-room -meeting of a different kind. They were boys such as Arnold would have -loved and Thring believed in—sons, for the most part, of Christian -parents, fine specimens of young England, the statesmen and merchants -and professional men of the future. And these boys, full of fun and -ready for mischief, but generous and manly, hating lies and cowardice as -only English boys can, became the nucleus of a grand army destined to -save the nation and lift it into a glory such as it had never known -before. - -Margaret’s gentle voice and beautiful face won their way immediately to -the boys’ hearts. She told the same story as before, but in different -words and with a different significance, leaving them to see how they -might help those who were down to rise; and that their education and -position put upon them the responsibility of doing so. Next, in glowing -terms she reminded them of the old Crusaders, and the Knights of -Chivalry, and besought these modern boys of England to enter upon the -new crusade, and drive out from their native land the drunkenness and -gambling, the impurity and misery which were crowding round its holy -places. She reminded them that _they_ must bring about the great -reformation; that _they_ must acknowledge Christ, and for His sake the -brotherhood of man; it would be _their_ sin and shame if poor women were -still to work for starvation wages, and wretched men lose their -manliness because they had lost their hope. She took it for granted, she -said, that they were Christian boys, and that they would be true to the -faith of their fathers, which faith was not simply a belief in Christ as -a Saviour, though it was that first of all, but an obedience to Christ -as a law-giver, and that the command to love one another, to care for -the poor, to acknowledge the equality of man, to be strictly fair and -honourable, were simple everyday duties incumbent upon all who bore the -name of Christ. She spoke of the waste of God-given power in war, and -urged them in glowing words to pledge themselves never to uphold those -who pressed a national quarrel to murder; and she asked them, now in -their youth, and afterwards in their manhood, to suspend for a while -even the strife of political parties until the wrongs of the poor and -the ignorant were righted; and to accomplish a grand mastery of self -that they might become the masters of the world. And then she bade them -win the love and reverence of women by being such brave, high-minded, -clean-souled men as they dreamed all Englishmen should be. - -After this Tom told her story, showing at every step how if the boy who -went down into the lowest depths of degradation had had a strong man—a -gentleman—to help him, it would have been different. “But the young -gentlemen,” said Tom, “were smoking and drinking, and so busy in robbing -themselves of their own strength and manhood that they took no notice of -the poor wretches who were dying by their side, and _Noblesse oblige_ -had no meaning for them.” - -“But it has for us,” said a boyish voice, its owner rising in the middle -of the room; and Margaret was delighted as she looked at him; a tall, -straight, good-looking boy with his brown curls tossed back from his -forehead, and his blue eyes flashing with fearless determination. “Let -me tell the ladies who have spoken that there are hosts of us quite -ready to form a new army of Volunteer Crusaders. But we want a little -help and encouragement; we are so cowardly, afraid and ashamed of -appearing as good as we are. Could not another word for good be -invented? We would rather face a lion than the stigma of being called -goody-goody; but let nobody on that account suppose that our hatred of -wrong, and our indignation against the wrong-doer, is any less hot in us -than in our fathers. We have been born with consciences, and we have -energy enough to battle with anything. You fellows, what do you say? -Shall we, here in London, and to-night, form a regiment of Soldiers of -Peace? I believe the idea would be taken up all over England; for the -boys I know—most of them, at all events—do not want to disgrace their -names. If we could really believe that we are called to be heroes there -is that in us which would help us to rise to the name. Yes, and let us -wear a rosette of the red, white, and blue of Old England, which no boy -shall wear except worthily; the blue for temperance, the white for -purity, and the red for battle or endeavour. These colours have won -renown in the past; they shall win higher renown still in the new days -for our country, for—” and the young voice rang out like a bugle -call—“we swear to God that we will do our part to make our nation -exalted by its righteousness.” - -The boys shouted “Hurrah!” they could not help it; they were wonderfully -moved by the short harangue of their comrade, Ned Northcote, a favourite -of all who knew him. And Tom trembled with excitement as she put her -hand on the arm of her hostess. - -“We must take this holy enthusiasm at its flow,” she said. “Miss -Wentworth, will you let your house be the rallying ground for this grand -new army?” - -And the older woman replied with quivering lips, “Only too gladly! Never -before was the house so consecrated as it is to-night.” - -She might well say so; for at that moment a boy’s voice, in simple -boyish language, was vowing for himself and his fellows, all of them -standing, with bowed heads and swiftly-beating hearts, that they would -live for the kingdom of Christ, and be the King’s soldiers. - -“Here is a book. I think we should have a roll-call,” said Tom. “I am -not a boy; I almost wish I were to-night: but I shall belong to the -regiment. It is late now; will you enrol your names in your own -handwriting, and come again to-morrow?” - -The movement became known through the Press. There were several -flourishing weekly journals and one daily devoted to the interests of -women, the columns of which were chiefly occupied with the fashions and -tit-bits of news about “Society People.” A letter was addressed to each -of these describing the meetings here referred to, and appealing to the -ladies of England to help, by drawing-room meetings and any other means -that should offer, in the formation of a national army of Volunteer Boy -Crusaders, pledged to the extirpation of evil and the uplifting of the -standard of righteousness. - -Most of the editors of these papers inserted the letters (and those who -did not wished afterward they had done so), and the response to them was -marvellous. The religious papers, of course, most willingly gave their -assistance, and so it came about that in a comparatively short time -after the meeting in Miss Wentworth’s room thousands of meetings were -being held in connection with churches of all denominations in all parts -of the country; for the idea had everywhere caught the imaginations and -consciences of Christian women, and _God wills it_ was borne in upon -them. - -And then it became evident what a wonderful preparation for this had -been going on during the past years. All sorts of societies were already -in existence, ready to be amalgamated. There was the “Society of -Christian Endeavour,” which numbered thousands of young people; and it -was easy and natural to show how their endeavour, which was, firstly, -for their own religious advancement, should be, secondly, definitely on -behalf of other boys and girls less favoured than they. Then there was -“The Boys’ Brigade,” which had made fine, soldierly lads of some of the -roughest street boys of the large towns, but which was regarded with -suspicion by some who feared that the organisation might be used as a -recruiting agency for military purposes. But it was found that these -boys were as ready, and even eager, to take the Pledge of Peace as the -rest; and so well disciplined were they, so used to obey the officers -under whom already they served, that they were invaluable in the new -army of young crusaders. The Bands of Hope, too, had their thousands -already engaged in negative work, but thirsting to become aggressive, -who signed the new pledge, “We will,” after the old one, “We will not.” - -As to the Sunday-school, it renewed its youth. “Why, this is what we -have been trying to do all along; this is our work,” said the teachers; -and they were right, for there could have been no such abundant harvest -ready for reaping but for the patient tilling and sowing which had been -accomplished in the Sunday-school. - -“Where are the headquarters of this great movement?” was a question -frequently asked. And the answer seemed a strange one: “In the houses of -a few women.” - -“It is growing too much for us,” said Tom. But on the day when she said -it more than a dozen ladies asked to be allowed to do the clerical work -of the endeavour. - -“What put it in your minds?” one asked, and a bright girl replied with a -smile, “You should put your question differently, and ask, ‘Who put it -into our minds?’” - -But, after all, every district, town, and village had to provide its own -headquarters. Nor was this difficult; for that had happened for which -devout souls had agonised in prayer for many a weary year, and at last -the Church was awake. - -And it found everything ready for the new work, which was yet not new, -but as old as Christianity. A conviction forced itself into many minds, -as it might be, simultaneously, that no new organisation, but the -old-established ones, were called to make the Great Endeavour, and that -they had all the necessary power and means, and especially they had what -was of greater importance than all else put together—_they had the -boys_. - -One town after another, and villages by dozens, gathered the boys into -the new organisation; and it was officered by the finest men of the -district. - -“This must not be left to uneducated, unequipped men; you and I must -take it up, or prove ourselves traitors to our consciences.” Such words -as these were spoken at many a club. And the recruiting sergeants were -the boys themselves. “Father, you must come; you are clever; the boys -would obey you; and you know how to govern. Don’t leave us to any -duffers who like to take us in hand. We want real men to manage and -direct us.” So pleaded the boys; and real men responded. - -And yet it was very much a woman’s movement. It was always a lady’s hand -who pinned the rosette of significance upon the boy’s breast when he -enlisted. The sweet tones of women’s voices commended the young soldiers -to God when they went forth to fight the peace-battles. They were -welcomed once every week when they came for counsel and encouragement by -motherly hands and sisterly commendation. Every boy knew that some good -woman held him in her heart and mentioned him in her prayers, and would -be glad or sorry according to whether he proved faithful or the reverse. -For at the very foundation of this movement was the principle of woman’s -influence. Every lady-member of the Christian Church with which the -Branch was connected was expected to take the oversight of some of the -boys—not less than two nor more than twenty being the number decided -upon. And these women, who, as might have been expected, entered very -heartily into the scheme, had to help and inspire the boys in their -uphill endeavour; and especially set them to work upon those other boys -who, at present, were their opponents. One or two of these ladies, whom -we know, brought the old history of the Knights Templars to bear on -these modern times. Nor could anything better for their purpose be -conceived than the oath taken by this order—“I swear to consecrate my -words, my arms, my strength, and my life to the defence of the mysteries -of faith and that of the unity of God. I also promise to be submissive -and obedient to the Grand Master of the Order. Whenever it is needful I -will cross the seas to fight; I will give help against all infidel kings -and princes, and _in the presence of three enemies I will not fly, but -fight if they are infidels_.” - -It was not far from Arthur Knight’s factories that Margaret and Tom -commenced these operations. He had not seen these ladies, but he heard -of what they were doing from Dallington and Miss Wentworth, and between -him and them his idea was in a fair way of being accomplished, for -almost every young person was surrounded by an atmosphere of kindness -and good influences. By every means he was endeavouring to prepare his -people, and especially the young ones, for a better life under happier -conditions in his Land of Promise, which was being got ready for them. -It was a great satisfaction to him to find how much of the work which he -considered his was being done for him by others. He had heard of the -Basket Woman, and was curious about her. But among the helpers doing -Christian work for his people there was one of whom he thought more -frequently than of all the others, and that was the young lady who had -spoken with such vehement condemnation of the wretched houses that -belonged to him. Only once since had he seen her, and it was when, -hearing that the woman whom she visited was dying, he went to the house -to see if he could render assistance. But the young lady was before him. -As he pushed open the door he saw a sight which he would never forget. -By the side of the couch which had been provided the girl knelt in -prayer, and he heard her soft voice pleading, “Oh, take Thy servant, who -has so long borne the burden and heat of the day, into Thy Paradise -above, where they hunger no more, neither thirst any more, where the -Lamb who is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and lead them -unto living fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from -their eyes.” He closed the door softly, and passed the little window of -that room bareheaded and with a reverent heart. And he understood, as -never before, when he walked over the dusty stones, through the close -court, what such words must be to the poor, and how natural it was that -Christ should have thought of them first. “To the poor the Gospel is -preached,” and those who receive it are thereby lifted out of the -greatest depths of their misery. A wave of compassion passed over Arthur -Knight, and the resolutions he had formed grew stronger than ever within -him. He passed the house again (it was strange what an attraction it -held for him), hoping that he might meet the young lady; but, instead, -he heard her voice singing sweetly the well-known strains, “I know that -my Redeemer liveth.” He waited a moment or two, and then, realising the -impertinence of such conduct, he walked slowly away, hoping, however, -that an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the singer might be -granted him. Could she be “the Basket Woman,” of whom he heard so much? -Or were there two ladies who had taken his poor people into their -compassion, besides those who originated the Young Crusaders’ movement? -Among all his engagements Arthur Knight found time to wonder about this -mystery, for he could not help being vividly interested. “It is absurd,” -he said to himself; “but I cannot get that young lady who lectured me -out of my thoughts. Surely I am not going to fall in love. That is the -last thing I ought to do. But I must see her again, somehow.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. - - -Even in small towns events follow each other so rapidly that one subject -of gossip soon pushes another into the background, and in Scourby Mary -Wythburn would have been forgotten, except by a few of her own personal -friends, but for the fact that her name had been coupled with that of -Dr. Stapleton in a suspicious report which did him great damage in the -opinion of his fellow-townsmen. The doctor was a young medical man who -was rapidly making his way in the town, and had many friends. He was -especially good to the poor, and for several years attended them free of -charge at their own homes, and he also held at his house a medical -mission. Twice a week his consulting-room was almost like a small “Pool -of Bethesda,” for the number of halt and maimed who came to it for -advice and medicine. He always made them pay for these by their -attendance at a ten minutes’ talk which preceded the regular business on -which they came. But the doctor did not usually address these people on -religious topics. His faith in the power of Christ to redeem them was -strong and unquestioning, but he knew that in the streets, through the -efforts of the Salvation Army and other evangelists, they were at their -own doors continually hearing of the way of salvation. It was rather a -gospel of self-help that Dr. Stapleton preached to them. He wanted them -to love God, but since they could not do that because they did not as -yet love their fellow-men, he sought to make them at least love -themselves, which they were a long way from doing. So he discoursed to -them, in rousing words, on cleanliness and health, on language and -character, on habits and opinions, and especially on the delight and the -dignity of work. There were some strange ideas among these people in -regard to this last subject; they actually talked of themselves as the -working-classes, while many of them were as idle as they could be. -Public movement was in the direction of shortening the hours of labour -for men; and it was hoped, therefore, that since many of them only -worked eight hours, the professional classes might presently rest when -they had been engaged for twelve, and that women would not be expected -to work for more than sixteen. But these women who were helped by Dr. -Stapleton, whose homes were dirty and wretched, and whose persons were -untidy, did very little real work at all; and he knew that if they could -be persuaded to love, instead of hate, it, a vast difference would at -once be made to their lives. So he did what he could, and very -sympathetically, since he knew under what terrible conditions many of -them lived, and how hard it is to keep a very little home entirely clean -and tidy. - -Dr. Stapleton one morning noticed that the people appeared to be -offended with him. This vexed and made him irritable, and it must be -confessed that he had not a good temper at the best of times. Just now, -indeed, he was overwhelmed with troubles of which few people guessed, -though some were evident enough. For one thing, a Parliamentary election -was impending, and a section of the Scourby men had decided to lead the -way in a new departure. There was to be a grand fight for principle. -Every one said that, though exactly what the principle was remained -undefined, only one thing seemed clear, that the fight would be between -the classes who had property and character and those who had neither. -For a change had come into the political world, although both the -Government and the Opposition were slow to see it. For several years -Christianity had been aggressive to an extent not previously known. The -churches had become iconoclastic; they had shut up public-houses by the -score; they had put gamblers into prison; they had insisted that brutal -husbands and fathers should be flogged; they had suspended races, and -closed music-halls, and cleared the streets of evil houses, and -altogether rendered themselves so obnoxious that through the land there -were risings of the dangerous classes, who were everywhere choosing men -after their own hearts to represent them in Parliament. - -In Scourby this section of the people had chosen Mr. Richard Lavender. -He was an open reviler of religion and morality, but he was bold as well -as bad; he was clever at invective, and perfectly unscrupulous in his -words and deeds, and therefore he was a favourite with too many of the -people. They loved to hear him call names; they applauded his sneers at -religion and respectability; he was no “bloated aristocrat,” he was an -outcast, as many of them were, and they were going to stand by him, and -send him to Westminster to be a thorn in the sides of the respectables. - -He appealed to the worst passions of the people, and told them that both -the aristocracy and the middle classes were tyrants and oppressors of -the poor; and the curious thing was that some of them seemed to believe -him. He roused their antagonism by reminding them of the Bills that had -been passed—that now a man could not claim his wife’s wages, or enjoy -them unless she chose to give him them; that he could not send his -children out to work, and, indeed, a man could no longer do what he -liked with his own; besides which he did not find a public-house in -every street, and often had a ten minutes’ walk before he could get his -drink. The liberty of the subject was in danger, and a stop must be put -to this sort of thing. - -Mr. Lavender was one of three men who aspired to the vacant seat. There -was, of course, to be the usual fight between the Conservatives and the -Radicals. But the candidates representing the two great parties were -strangers, and had been selected and sent down by the wire-pullers in -London, while Lavender was well known, and hail-fellow-well-met to many -of the people in Scourby. This gave him a great advantage over Mr. -Smith, the Conservative, and Mr. Jones, the Liberal. On the evening of -the day in question there was to be a meeting of the supporters of the -latter, and those who were interested looked forward to it with some -misgiving. Lavender gloried in mob-law; and although there was no -society in the town that would have anything to do with him, not the -socialists, nor trades-unionists, nor any distinct organisation of the -people, it was yet known that he could count upon a considerable -following. - -Many people feared that Lavender would be returned, and among them was -Dr. Stapleton. - -In the midst of his ill-humour Miss Whitwell called to consult him about -one or two poor patients to whom he had been kind. - -“I am looking after some of Miss Wythburn’s pet women,” she said. “I am -so bad-tempered this morning, that I thought I would go to them as a -sort of diversion; and I feel more wretched than ever now. I think there -must be a happy hereafter for the very poor, they are so joyless here.” - -“But they do not wish to leave the world. Every patient wants to get -well.” - -“I could take you to a woman who is praying to die, but I may not. There -are plenty of them, though. Is not this a wretched world?” - -“I do not think so, neither do you, Miss Whitwell.” - -“Oh, yes, I do! Why, everything is wrong. And men who have power and -strength and ability are droning away their lives doing -nothing—absolutely nothing. Why do you not lift up your voice against -the cruelty that is practised in this town?” - -“I haven’t a very strong voice. It would not make much noise if I lifted -it up all day.” - -“Dr. Stapleton, you are brutal!” - -“I beg your pardon, Miss Whitwell. What do you want me to do? I am sure -the world is better than it ever was before.” - -“I am glad I did not live in it before, then. Things seem to me -dreadfully bad now.” - -“All great growths are slow. But I believe that the right is winning its -way more rapidly than slowly, and in the long run it is sure to -conquer.” - -Tom Whitwell laughed. “You are repeating your creed, doctor. It is very -proper of you; but you don’t believe it this morning, do you now? One of -your patients is ill because she has had to stand twelve hours a day -selling flowers and ribbons over a draper’s counter. Another is ill -because a drunken husband brutally assaulted her; another because her -landlord did not keep his house in proper repair, and the stairs gave -way under her. A little child is dying because he has never been -properly fed; another because he has been poisoned by foul drains; and -yet another because some men treated him to several drinks of gin. And -we are sending to represent us in the House of Commons Mr. Richard -Lavender.” - -Dr. Stapleton passed his hand across his brow wearily. “Did you say you -had a case on which you wished to consult me?” he asked. “Where is this -woman who will not see a doctor?” - -“In Sloane-street, No. 40. But it is of no use for you to go to her, for -she will not see you. Cannot you prescribe for her without?” - -“Certainly not. Can you describe her symptoms?” - -“No; only she is in great pain, and seems feverish, and has no appetite, -and cannot sleep.” - -“Not uncommon symptoms these. Most patients have them. Is she poor?” - -“Very, and in dreadful trouble about Mary Wythburn, who was always good -to her.” - -“I have a little money to give away. I will call with it, and perhaps I -shall find some way of helping her. Excuse me if I advise you to return. -The town will be neither pleasant nor safe later. What is this woman’s -name?” - -“Robinson. She says a doctor’s mistake made her a widow, and that she -never knew one yet who properly understood his business. Good-bye, Dr. -Stapleton.” - -Tom’s smile was full of pleasant mischief, but it soon vanished. “Poor -fellow, I am really afraid he did care for Mary,” she said. “Certainly -something is the matter with him.” - -The next moment she met her cousin. “Tom,” she said, “Scourby will be no -place for you to-day.” - -“That is what Dr. Stapleton has been telling me, and I am obediently -making my way home already.” - -“Have you asked Stapleton to prescribe for you?” - -“No; why should I? I am perfectly well. He ought to prescribe for -himself, he is looking miserably ill. Are you going to the meeting? I -wish you would call for him and take him with you.” - -A few hours later Dallington and the doctor were making their way to the -hall. The people were thronging the streets and shouting “Lavender and -Liberty for ever!” Every election cry has the word liberty in it. - -“Where do all these people come from?” asked Dallington. “I did not -think there were so many of this sort in the town.” - -“They do not often show themselves, but these are the people we have to -reckon with. They have been left too much to themselves, and only -tolerated for the use we can make of them. They will turn upon us some -day and pay off old scores.” - -“I should not wonder if they do. Take care! Here is an ugly rush! Can we -get out of it?” - -Before the words had left his lips the crowd was on the two men. The -doctor was well known as a friend of the poor, and he thought that he -was rather liked by the women, who had been often helped through their -troubles by him. But there were a good many women in the crowd, and -there was no mistaking their hostile intentions towards him. He was -severely hustled, and when he turned and faced them he looked into -countenances full of malice. His hat was knocked off, his coat was torn, -and, as he was only one man against two hundred, he was not at all sure -that his life was not in danger. He had got separated from his friend, -and was wondering if he could find a way of escape, when a door was -opened, and he was drawn in by a man who had watched the scene and -resolved to help the doctor. Soon a loud knocking was heard at the -street door, and Stapleton’s name was called. The door was cautiously -opened, and a woman, half-drunk and badly cut, was thrust in. Dr. -Stapleton bound up her wounds, the woman cursing him all the while. At -length the street grew more quiet, and he reached the hall where the -meeting was to be held, and found it a scene of the greatest confusion. -The chairman’s appearance and that of the speakers called forth a storm -of hisses and groans. He tried to speak, but the people would not hear -him; neither would they allow the candidate to be heard. Evidently it -was a packed meeting of Lavender’s supporters. But there was strange -irony in their making themselves hoarse by shouting, “Liberty! Liberty!” -though, after all, it was no new thing that the liberty they wanted was -liberty to think and do as they pleased, and compel everybody else to do -the same. - -Somebody uttered in a lull the name of Stapleton. “Try what you can do,” -said the chairman. “I am sure they will not hear me,” said the doctor, -“since they will not listen to you.” - -And he was correct. There was a perfect yell when he rose to his feet, -and he sat down, as the others had done, without being heard. There were -a few remarks made for the benefit of the reporters, and then the -meeting concluded in an uproar, as it had commenced. Dr. Stapleton -noticed, as he went home, a little heap of stones, which he did not -remember to have seen before. He understood its meaning later. His -servants had retired, and he was reading, when he received a shock. A -shower of stones came crashing through the windows of his house, -smashing glass and breaking lamps, mirrors, and vases. One stone that, -fortunately, fell on the table instead of the person of the doctor, had -a label affixed to it, on which was written “Good-night, doctor, and -pleasant dreams to you!” Stapleton was rather comforted by this when, -having examined the house and discovered the damage done to it, he read -the inscription. “After all,” he said, “this looks more like fun than -fury.” - -John Dallington’s home-going was not much more satisfactory than Dr. -Stapleton’s. He entered the door of his house with a sigh. He expected -to find the chair in the most comfortable corner of the room occupied by -William Hunter, and to see his mother looking anything but happy; and he -was agreeably surprised to find Mrs. Hunter alone. She was in an -affectionate mood, and took his arm as they went together to the -dining-room. “You must need some supper after your drive, for I heard -the sound of wheels. Why did you not ride?” - -“Oh, I knew uncle would give me a lift; and, if not, I should have -enjoyed the walk.” - -“Tom has been in. She is a dear girl, and very fond of you, John.” - -“Yes; she is most kind and cousinly.” - -Mrs. Hunter laughed softly. “I feel sure,” she said, significantly, -“that there is much more than a cousinly feeling in Tom’s heart for you. -But men are proverbially blind, and cannot see what is plainly before -them.” - -“Mother, what a fanciful little woman you are! I believe you will never -give up dreaming dreams until you become a really old lady.” - -“That is no dream, John, but very sober reality. And it is the great -hope of my life that you should marry Tom. So it is of hers.” - -“I never shall, mother; so I trust you will at once disabuse your mind -of the thought.” - -“Do not say so. You could never have a more loving and capable wife than -Tom would make. And—John—cannot you see that that would be the way out -of all your difficulties?” - -John’s colour rose. “That is a way I cannot take,” he said. “That will -never, never be.” - -Mrs. Hunter persisted. “It would undo the harm that I have done,” she -said, “and make me feel happy and forgiven.” - -“Mother,” said John—and though he tried to be gentle his voice was -stern—“have I reproached you? There is nothing to forgive! I am sure you -only did what you felt you were obliged to do, and that you did it for -the best. I am young and strong. I shall win back every yard of my -father’s estate in a few years, if work and thought can do it. But the -trouble and the difficulty are mine, not yours, and they will not hurt -me.” - -“John, why should you keep them when you can blow them away with a word -of love to Tom?” - -“Simply because I cannot speak the word. What do you take me for?” - -“John—I must say it, even if you are angry with me—it will break my -heart if that which I hear is true.” - -“What have you heard?” - -“That you are courting Margaret Miller. Who is she that she dare look at -you?” Mrs. Hunter laughed unpleasantly. “Why, nobody knows what she is, -nor where she came from; she may be the scum of the earth for all——” - -“Mother,” John’s voice trembled, “you are my mother, and I love you, and -I will not be angry with you, but please never speak in that way again -of Miss Miller.” He paused a minute to steady his voice, and for debate -with himself as to whether or not he should confide in his mother, and -decided to do so. “There ought to be no secrets between us two, little -mother, for whom have we but each other? And so I will at once tell you -the truth. I have chosen Miss Miller to be my wife, and have asked her -to accept my love. I have plenty to think of besides marrying for some -years to come, but if I ever do marry, Margaret Miller will be my -bride.” - -Mrs. Hunter’s eyes blazed with fury; but her son would not let her -speak. He had seen his mother in a passion before, and for her own sake -as much as his he resolved that he would not listen to her torrents of -angry words. - -“Wait a moment, mother. All that I can be to you as a son I will be; but -I am a man now, and I must be allowed to choose my own friends and, -above all, my own wife.” - -He left her after these words, and perhaps his heart was as heavy as his -mother’s. He was sorry to vex her; but he was himself vexed, too. It was -too bad to bring his cousin Tom into this discussion, and to suggest -that most absurd idea! There could not be a particle of truth in the -suggestion that Tom cared for him, except as a cousin; of that he was -absolutely certain. It was a pain, that was not without shame, that her -father held a mortgage on his land, but he would never redeem it in that -fashion. He knew that his uncle had obliged his mother to arrange with -him instead of a stranger, and he knew, too, that she had almost -exceeded the terms of his father’s will in what she did. It was well -that he was in the hands of an honourable relative; but the thing was a -trouble to him, for the thought of a debt was hard to bear. His case was -an exceedingly common one. How to be just as well as generous is a -problem given to many to solve. - -But what troubled John Dallington more than anything was a doubt that -had crept into his mind about Margaret. He did not know what it meant, -but he felt that she was not happy with him. She appeared anxious and -afraid, and even his love could not melt away a certain coldness which -seemed to be creeping over her. Poor Margaret was fighting a battle with -herself in regard to her duty. She was uncertain as to what she ought to -do. Mrs. Hunter had been more successful with Margaret than with John -when she set herself to insinuate into the mind of each the suspicion of -Tom Whitwell’s love for her cousin. The two friends spent much time -together in London, as well as in their homes; and Margaret’s fear that -the suspicion was correct grew rather than decreased. - -We have seen how busy the two girls were; but they had each plenty of -time for thought, and Margaret, after observing her friend closely, felt -convinced that she had some secret sorrow. And having made up her mind -to that, she had no difficulty in deciding what the sorrow was, nor how -it could be cured. - -But Margaret had quite as much sense as sentiment. She was not a good -heroine for a novel, because she was so very much an all-round person. -She thought of John first, and then she thought of Tom, and, lastly, of -herself; and she meant to consider well before she placed her friend -irrevocably between herself and her lover. But the uncertainty was -trying; and when Mr. Dallington asked that he might declare their -engagement, Margaret said they were not really engaged, and that it was -her wish that they should not be. - -“I cannot understand you, Margaret,” he replied. “I do not believe that -you are fickle, or that you did not know your own mind; and it seems to -me that since we love each other, the most honourable thing is for us to -be openly engaged. But I cannot urge you further; it would be unmanly to -do so; and if I could I would not wring from you a reluctant consent. -But I will not at present believe that you finally reject me. Do not be -alarmed; I am not going to persecute you with unwelcome attentions; but -I shall ask you again, for I cannot give up the hope of years even at -your bidding; and some day, perhaps, you will explain to me the reasons -for this change. Pardon me, I am sure there is something which you are -keeping from me to-day, and that you would not quite treat me as you are -doing if the reasons which you have stated were the only ones.” - -John Dallington had reached the Old House in excellent spirits, but -Margaret had astounded and pained him beyond measure. He little guessed -how difficult had been the task to Margaret; but how could she tell him -either that his mother had written an anonymous letter to her, or that -she felt warranted in believing that his cousin’s happiness would be -jeopardised if she agreed to his wishes? Since her talk with Harris she -did not dare to lay quite the same stress upon the old doubt as to her -parentage, but she hinted at it again and Dallington would not allow her -to proceed. “You are yourself and that is enough for me,” he said; but -Margaret was very resolute, and he was leaving her, if not in anger, in -keen and sorrowful displeasure. - -And then, woman-like, her heart failed her. - -“Let us be friends,” she said. “And do believe that I care more for your -happiness than my own.” - -He was very gentle; but he held her hands, and compelled her to lift her -eyes to his face. - -“I do believe,” he said, “that you are not doing this for your -happiness. For some inexplicable cause you think it your duty; but you -are mistaken. Friends? Yes, certainly, let us be friends, and very near -and dear ones.” - -“That is not what I mean,” said Margaret. But her strength seemed -suddenly to fail her, and she left him abruptly. - -Ann Johnson watched her as she hastened to her own room, and she thought -she heard a sob as the door closed. She wondered what it meant. She -liked the young Squire of Darentdale, and thought him almost good enough -for Margaret; but there was no knowing, and she resolved to fortify her -against him in case he was not all he seemed; she therefore took an -opportunity to relate one of her stories. - -“I shouldn’t like to travel. I should be afraid it would hurt my morals. -I knowed a man who lived abroad, and a nicer man before he went there -couldn’t be, nor a kinder. I seen him the day afore he went, and I seen -him the day after he come back. He were altered then, for he had a scar -on his face. I says to him, ‘How come them beauty spots on you?’ and he -says, ‘Oh, it were a bird that scratted me with her sharp tallions’; but -whether it were the truth I don’t know. He didn’t always tell the truth; -for he pretended to fall in love with a lady as I knows, and he proposed -to her, and then he set to work to steal her heart away. And he stole -it, too; and they was going to be married—it was almost as close as Miss -Wythburn’s wedding—and then a woman come as proved as she were his -lawful wedded wife. And all the while he had been that proper—not a bit -trivial, nor nothing of that, but pious enough to deceive a saint. My -opinion is as few men can stand them foreign parts; so you be careful, -dearie.” - -Ann Johnson’s stories always made Margaret laugh, and they did now, -though she was sadly wondering where John was, and what he was thinking -of her. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - DEFEAT OR VICTORY? - - -On the morning of the day of the election Scourby was fairly quiet, -although many of the people had taken a holiday, and were spending it in -the public-houses and the streets. The noise would come later, when the -votes had been counted and the result was known. The greatest enthusiasm -was evinced whenever Mr. Lavender appeared on the scene. If only the -enthusiasm had been for a better man, how good this feeling of -exultation and loyalty would have proved! Alas, for the nation that is -not enthusiastic! Few sights in England have been more pleasant than the -rapture with which the men have welcomed their Parliamentary -representative, when the man has been worthy. Such elections, even when -they have been stormy, have been among the glories of our land. It was -new for such men as Lavender to be “the chosen of the people,” and -because it was new the steady, stable middle classes could not believe -in it. But much had been going on of which they had little idea. -Unfortunately, it had long been the case that many of the best men of -the Churches had altogether held aloof from politics, when they ought to -have been in the very forefront of the battle. The reason they gave was -that Christianity and politics seemed to have little in common. Many a -party had had its birth in some public-house, and many a seat had been -won by exaggerations and lies told of the opposite side, and by -broadcast promises that had never been kept, nor were ever intended to -be. To buy the more ignorant part of the working men by flattering their -vanity, by setting class against class, by misrepresentations, and the -stirring up of their worst passions of hate and selfishness—these had -been the policy of more than a few who had by these means won the -highest honours in the land; but men with consciences educated at the -Cross could not stoop to these things; if they tried, they generally -failed; and, in the end, far too many withdrew from politics altogether, -thereby exhibiting a pusillanimity which was little creditable to -themselves or their Church, since, together, they were well able to -insist that political contests should be fought on quite other lines, -and with different weapons. - -In the meantime strong efforts were made by the opponents of the -Churches. The bar-room in many instances was the canvassing ground, and -one notable feature in the case was that hundreds of young men were -Lavender’s adherents. When they grew older they might become wiser; but -at present a very large proportion of young householders voted for him. -The fact was that he and his party had helped them to their votes, for -certain men who had cheap house-property had been careful to encourage -young men to become occupiers that they might exercise the franchise; -and these men had been well looked after, not only on the eve of the -contest, but for more than a year, and had by this means been secured by -these far-seeing men of the world. - -It was these facts which gave to the new party its hopes; and the party, -not only in Scourby, but throughout the country, was dangerous because -of its numbers. It sought to pose as “the Labour Party,” and whichever -side can persuade the multitude to believe it to be that is pretty -certain of success. But there were hundreds of honourable, high-souled -working men in Scourby who were as much humiliated as the wealthiest, -when the state of the poll was declared at night. - -For the figures proved the stubborn fact that, though by only a small -majority, Richard Lavender was duly elected. - -From the yells of delight, and the groans of disgust that followed, two -astute working men turned away with hot anger and indignation in their -hearts. “There will be a reckoning for somebody or other over this,” -said one. “What have all the parsons been doing that they could not save -the town from such disgrace?” - -“Smoking their pipes in their studies, I suppose. We have been perfectly -sold! Isn’t it a pity that none but fools can be found to manage -affairs? We ought to have had a local man. Both the Tory and the Radical -are complete strangers to us. How is it that a man seldom represents his -own town, but nearly always comes seeking the suffrages of some place -that knows nothing about him, except what he and the newspapers say?” - -“Oh, they are too well known in their own town. But this shows that they -are not of the best. If a man has lived an honourable life, and served -the interests of the town, he ought to be chosen and sent to Parliament -by the men who know him. It is a disgrace if we cannot grow our own -members.” - -“So I think. If this had happened a year ago, and Dr. Stapleton had been -a candidate, he would have gone in.” - -“Do you believe all they are saying about him? It is very strange that -he has scarcely put in an appearance over this election. It is really -most mysterious.” - -It was less mysterious than it seemed; and, perhaps, it will be as well -to let our readers into the secret, such as it is, while we give the -Scourby men a little breathing time. Really, this election proved to be -for the salvation of the town, and the sting of shame was for the -healing of the people; but all this could not be accomplished in a day. - -The truth is that Dr. Stapleton had cared for Mary Wythburn, and, though -he had never said so, she had guessed it, and he feared she had. He did -not believe that he had awakened the slightest feeling in her toward -him, nor that it had influenced her decision in regard to Mr. -Greenholme. But when she disappeared he was overwhelmed with trouble and -anxiety, and he had been to London several times in the vain hope of -finding her. - -Indeed, worry had made him so ill, that he resolved to take a few days -for a holiday, and see his brother, Mr. Felix Stapleton, of Granchester. -He was ten years older than the Doctor. Their mother died when they were -both young, and their father when Felix was twenty-nine and Frederick -nineteen. He left a small fortune to be equally divided; but Felix -needed money more than Fred, for he was married and settled, while his -younger brother was at college, preparing for his future. His own share -of his father’s money and part of his brother’s enabled Felix to take -full advantage of the tide that led to fortune. He was a builder and -contractor, as his father had been before him, and a keen man of -business. He saw that Granchester was destined to a rapid increase, so -he bought up land and built houses upon it. His foresight was abundantly -rewarded; odd fields and acres and pieces of land that had come into his -possession were one after another wanted, and he sold some of them at a -considerable profit, others he covered with houses. Several building -societies existed in the town, and hundreds of working men were paying -by degrees the money which would make the houses in which they lived -their own. This praiseworthy ambition on their part had been a great -financial benefit to Mr. Felix Stapleton. He lived in a fine new house -in one of the outskirts of Granchester. It stood on a hill which -commanded the best view in the neighbourhood, and was itself—with its -bright red bricks, its towers and pinnacles and glass-houses—a striking -object, visible for many miles around. It goes without saying that Mr. -Stapleton, having rapidly accumulated wealth, had also rapidly -accumulated honours, both municipal and religious, and that his wife and -daughters were among the acknowledged leaders of Granchester society. - -Dr. Stapleton was very proud of his brother and all his successes, and -there was a glow at his heart when he stepped from the train and saw his -nieces on the platform, and beyond them, outside the station, the -carriage with the handsome horses and smart livery servants, which told -so pleasant a story. - -“Here we are, Uncle Fred,” exclaimed two girlish voices together. -“Father could not come to meet you, so he sent us. How are you? You -don’t look well; you need doctoring yourself, Doctor. You must get -married, or have one of us to keep house for you.” - -The girls took possession of him, and beamed upon him with their bright -eyes, and one of them at once offered to prescribe for him. His -sister-in-law gave him a sisterly welcome, and half an hour afterward -the strong grasp of his brother’s hand brought a flush of joy to the -Doctor’s face. - -“It is good to see you, old fellow. I thought you never meant to come -again.” - -“I have been sticking pretty closely to work. And so have you, I should -say. Why, how grey you have grown!” - -“Grey? Yes. Quite the old man. You must blame these romping, rollicking -boys and girls for that. A man with such a family can scarcely keep his -youthful appearance.” - -The Doctor thought there could not be a more delightful, well-appointed -home in all England than this. The house had every modern convenience -that science could devise, and it was artistic, as well as comfortable, -in all its arrangements. Mrs. Stapleton had proved herself equal to -their change of fortune, and the house had a very gracious lady at the -head of its domestic affairs. There had been no stint of money anywhere. -The young people had their own rooms, simply but not cheaply furnished. -The pictures were some of the most beautiful and costly of modern times. -All the latest books were in the library, and all the latest fashions in -the drawing-room. Servants, with perfect manners, moved about the place, -forestalling the wishes of the household and their guests. Dr. Stapleton -had never dined before as he dined at his brother’s table, nor listened -to finer music than that which was provided for him afterwards, nor -slept in such a sumptuous chamber. The next morning it seemed to him -that the proofs of immense wealth were even more abundant than had been -apparent the night before. The stables and coach-houses were buildings -that might have served a poor man for his home, and were filled with -expensive carriages and horses. And the gardens were fit for a nobleman. - -At the breakfast-table the members of the family appeared dressed in -exquisite taste. Not a bit of vulgar finery was to be seen upon any of -them. The children, not particularly pretty, perhaps, had been made to -look so by the careful arrangement of hair and clothes. Stapleton was -sure that more than money was expended in order to produce the -harmonious whole which proved so attractive; and that thought, care, -culture, and talent had been summoned to the aid of his brother and his -sister-in-law in order to make their home what it was. - -A very merry party partook of the morning meal; for there is always -plenty of fun where young people live; and the Doctor was glad to -observe how clever and refined were even the jokes. But he noticed -something else which qualified his pleasure, and this was a look of care -and harassment which sat like a black shadow upon the brow of his -brother, who took little food, and scarcely joined in the conversation. -At first this seemed to escape the notice of all but himself; but at -last his eldest daughter, Matilda, remarked upon it. - -“Is there anything you could eat, father? We will get it from the ends -of the earth if you will name it.” - -Mr. Stapleton laughed. “My appetite has not come yet, Mat; but perhaps -it will later.” - -“You are worried as usual about those horrible men. I wish you would -retire from business altogether, and let the wretched creatures find -work somewhere else, or starve, as they deserve to do.” - -“I wish I could retire,” said her father. “But, Mat, you must not forget -that the wretched creatures, as you call them, have a right to live -which equals your own.” - -“Is there another labour dispute on?” asked the eldest son, a lad of -sixteen. - -“Yes, the usual thing. These labour strikes are constantly occurring -with us, Fred. I suppose you know a little about them at Scourby?” - -“Oh, yes; we have had our troubles there, and the victories have usually -gone with the men.” - -“The men are often very unreasonable. They ought not to expect to be -paid in bad times the wages which they receive when trade is at its -best; but they do.” - -“And they seldom save anything for a rainy day,” remarked Mrs. -Stapleton, “but live up to their income every week, whatever it may be.” - -“And they are awfully extravagant,” said Matilda. “I had the curiosity -to ascertain how many of the girls in my Sunday-school class were -learning to play the piano, and found that eight out of fourteen are -taking lessons. And their parents are buying pianos on the hire -system—so much a week for three years. Eight girls! And I believe that, -without exception, their parents are artisans. Is it not absurd? I -laughed at the idea, and this so offended one child that she left the -class. I told her it would be more to her credit if she learned to scrub -floors and mend stockings. She became saucy, and said she knew already -how to do those things, and should not ask my leave to learn the piano -or anything else her parents pleased.” - -“You are most partial to the violin yourself, Mat, are you not?” asked -the Doctor. - -“Oh yes,” said her brother, answering for her. “Mat is wild on the -violin, and she has a little beauty.” - -“I heard you playing it this morning, I think?” - -“Yes; I am as lazy as any of my set, but my dear violin can draw me out -of bed in the dead of the night, we are such great friends.” - -“Do you think it right to keep that pleasure to yourself?” - -“To myself? Why, Uncle Fred, I am willing to play for any one. I will -play to you all day if you like.” - -“Thank you very much. But what I mean to suggest is, that your -Sunday-scholars may be musically inclined, too, and can get as much real -pleasure out of a cheap harmonium or piano as you out of your harp and -violin. Why, then, should they not?” - -Matilda coloured partly with vexation. “I think the cases are -different,” she said. - -“Yes, they are. You get your instruments without trouble, and pay for -them with a ‘thank you’ or a kiss; they have to practise self-denial, -and part from the weekly payments with difficulty; but if they are -willing to do this, why in the world should they not? A working man has -as much right to a piano in his home, if he can pay for it, as you have. -Surely it is better to spend money on pianos than on beer.” - -“Why, uncle, I declare you are a rabid socialist. I had no idea you were -such a dangerous character!” - -“And you forget one little consideration,” added Mrs. Stapleton. “The -money with which these are bought has all to come out of our pockets.” - -“Indeed! I had certainly not looked at the matter in that light,” -replied the Doctor, and he could not altogether repress the ring of -irony in his voice. - -But the mistress of the house adroitly introduced a happier subject of -conversation, and “Uncle Fred” resolved that he would no more give -utterance to sentiments that brought a frown to his brother’s face. He -enjoyed his visit very much, and especially appreciated the attention -paid him by his sister-in-law, who drove a pair of beautiful ponies -every day for his especial benefit. - -But he could not get rid of the feeling that all was not well with -Felix, who, however, vouchsafed no confidence until the last evening of -Fred’s stay. - -When dinner was over the master of the house playfully observed that no -one would be invited to the library that night but Dr. Stapleton. It was -a hint which all understood and respected. - -Mr. Stapleton appeared nervous and ill at ease, first drawing his -brother’s attention to one thing and then to another, and all the time -pacing the room as if he could settle to nothing. At last the Doctor -broke the ice. - -“If you were a patient of mine, Felix, I should say that you had -something on your mind.” - -“And so I have, old fellow. And I am afraid it is likely to remain -there. Fred, do you ever feel the need of confession? I think it must be -an immense relief to a man sometimes to tell out his troubles and his -sins.” - -“I cannot say that I have myself ever experienced the longing; but I can -imagine that in some cases, when a man is borne down by a secret burden, -it does him good to talk it over with another.” - -“I will try it. In whom should a man confide if not in his brother? And -if I keep it much longer to myself it will kill me. Mine is a very -common trouble. Fred, I am in dire need of money.” - -The Doctor had felt that something terrible was coming, and the end of -his brother’s sentence seemed so tame that he laughed outright. “You -want money?” he cried, incredulously; “then, my dear fellow, what must -_I_ do?” - -The tone and the laugh hurt Mr. Stapleton, and caused him actual pain. -“Ah! you do not understand,” he said; “how should you? But it is true -nevertheless.” - -“Of course I have heard before of large businesses, with plenty of -capital at the back of them, coming to a standstill for lack of -ready-money. I remember one or two failures where there was enough to -pay everybody twenty shillings in the pound when affairs were looked -into. Is it something of the same kind with you, Felix?” - -“I could not pay everybody twenty shillings in the pound, and that is -not the worst of it.” - -“Really! You amaze me! But,” and the Doctor gave a glance at the books -and the pictures, “you could realise some money if it became necessary, -for, of course, a man, and especially a Christian man, must pay his -debts.” - -“Am I a Christian? Sometimes I doubt it,” said Mr. Stapleton, bitterly. -“You know, Fred, I have had nearly twenty years of commercial success. -And at first I deserved it. Every bit of work that I did at the -beginning was well done; the houses that I built during the first ten -years of my business life will stand as long as houses of the kind ever -do or can. And chances flowed in upon me; and profits, honestly gained, -too, grew and increased year by year until it seemed to me that my -wealth was so enormous it would last for ever. When this place and the -things on it were bought I was justified, or believed that I was, in -spending the money; and trade was so good that I had no difficulties -whatever then. But a change has taken place during the last few years, -the building trade has been slack, the cost of labour has been great, -and materials have been costly. Profits have fallen; I have had some bad -debts to contend with; and all the time my own expenses have been -increasing. It is not easy for a man of my position to retrench, and I -have been constantly hoping for better times, and now——” He stopped, and -paced the room three or four minutes before he proceeded. - -“It is a pity you cut such a dash, old fellow,” said the Doctor; “but I -am sure your intentions were right enough.” - -“If I had only myself I would not care. It is my wife and children of -whom I think. It has been my one great joy to see how they have -delighted in the beautiful things which I have been able to give them; -and how naturally the children especially have taken to the new manner -of life. How can I now drag them down from the position in which I have -placed them? I cannot do it, God help me!” - -“It is very hard for you—harder, perhaps, than it would be for them,” -said the Doctor. “But things may right themselves in time. Let me lend -you my money. I have a couple of thousands.” - -“I have not told you the worst. A drowning man will clutch at straws. -Fred, I have lost my own self-respect and I am going to forfeit yours.” -He hesitated, and finally said, “No, it is no use; I cannot tell you.” - -“Oh, tell me the worst, old man. Make a clean breast of it; you will -feel better afterward. I will find some way of helping you.” - -“The fact is that I am ashamed, and have reason to be, of much of my -later work. I have built houses that cannot stand, without foundations -and with thin walls, and green wood, and everything of the cheapest. I -have been in haste to sell them, and they have sold all the more readily -because, as I had built them, people took them on trust—and now the time -of retribution is at hand. One house collapsed last night in a high -wind. I am afraid others will follow. Two evenings ago a little -mission-room which I built, and poor people paid for with coppers hardly -spared, and which is packed on Sundays and many evenings beside, was -pronounced unsafe for occupation.” - -The builder groaned, and the Doctor buried his face in his hands. He -would rather have given all that he had, and ten years of his life into -the bargain, than have listened to such a confession from the brother -whom he had loved and honoured. He knew that all this was common enough -in those days, but Dr. Stapleton held it a crime, nevertheless, and that -his brother should have committed it nearly broke his heart. - -“Did they pass a vote of censure upon you at the mission hall?” he -asked, presently. - -“Oh, no! I have not heard that they blamed me; and I have the usual -excuses about dry rot and all that to offer.” - -“But—you know!” - -“Yes, alas! I know.” - -“Felix, there is one thing, at least, that you can do. Rebuild this -little mission chapel as it ought to be done. I will pay for it, and the -prayers of the grateful people may help you.” - -“Yes. I have thought of that myself. Thank you, Fred. I can do that, and -I will, without your help. It will be like an acknowledgment of my -fault; but that I must not mind, it is only justice. O God, I wish I -could be just! That is what I have not been. I cannot think how I could -have done some of the things which I have done. I think my conscience -has been asleep, and is awake now with a vengeance. But competition is -ruining many beside me. The little men do some of the mischief. They -work themselves for workmen’s wages, and get a few to help them who are -unskilled, and therefore take less; and I suppose they get some profit, -for they go on for a few years, and then, having cheapened things for -every one else and having nothing to lose themselves, they fail—while -the men of capital have to suffer for their folly and ambition.” - -“Yes; perhaps some trades are being ruined in this way. But if any -people are able to prevent it, the big men, as you call them, are; for -they might make a stand, and insist on having none but good work done, -or giving up business altogether. And, of course, capital ought not to -monopolise the trades. Other men, as well as you, have tried and hoped -for success.” - -“Certainly; and deserved it more than I. I have been too grasping and -ambitious. I am truly sorry now that I did not find some plan of making -my workmen sharers in my prosperity. I have not trusted them, nor they -me. Excepting at first there has been no friendliness or goodwill -between us, and this has cost us both dear. I have lost thousands of -pounds through strikes, and more than a few through speculation. Ah! if -I could have my time over again, how differently I would order my life! -But I am afraid the crash must come, though I am not quite sure even now -that if I had, say, seven or eight thousand pounds of ready-money, I -could not tide over the worst and wait for better times. Forgive me, old -fellow, I have put my burden on your shoulders, though it still rests -upon my own. Pray for me, as you used to do. I cannot pray myself; and -yet I am uttering words of verity when I say that now, as never before -in my life, my one desire is to do the right, if I only could be sure -what it is.” - -The words came brokenly, and the speaker threw himself wearily into a -chair. The Doctor put his arm over his shoulder. - -“You may count on me, you know, without my saying it. I will go home -to-morrow and think all this over, and come and see you again soon. You -must reduce your expenditure in the meantime—that is certainly necessary -and right; but we will avert the crash if it can be done. Go to bed now, -Felix; you looked tired to death.” And the brothers parted. - -The Scourby people were perfectly correct in their opinion that Dr. -Stapleton had a secret trouble on his mind. After his return he was a -very much sadder man than they had ever known him. He gave offence to -his patients by raising his fees, and soon became conscious that his -practice was leaving him. - -And on the eve of the Scourby election a temptation assailed him. Dr. -Stapleton late at night was asked to receive a visitor. At first the two -men spoke on ordinary subjects in ordinary tones, but afterwards they -were lowered. Once only Stapleton’s voice rang out, indignantly, “Am I a -dog that I should do this thing?” and the two men, with white faces, -glared in each other’s eyes; but after awhile they calmed down, and -when, an hour later, the stranger left, Stapleton himself let him out, -neither lifting his eyes to the other’s face. - -The Doctor fastened the door after his guest, and then returned to his -study, and locked himself into it. He did not stand with his back to the -fire, as is an Englishman’s wont, but he stood with his back to the -table and his face to the fire for half an hour, thinking all the time -of his brother, and going over again the trouble which had been confided -to him. Presently one little sentence he had uttered came back to his -mind, and he repeated it aloud, “Am I a Christian? Am I a Christian? Am -_I_ a Christian?” He clasped his hands together on the mantelpiece, and -leaned his head upon them, and so stood, as if oblivious of time. At -last he turned with a sigh, and forced his eyes to the table which he -had avoided, and, as though it had been some venomous beast, he looked -at the only thing that lay upon it. It was a cheque for a thousand -pounds! - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - A NEW EMIGRATION. - - -“Oh, Mr. Arthur Knight, I do b’lieve you listened, because you were so -close to the door when it came open!” - -“Yes, Miss Sissie Hancourt, I did. The singing was so beautiful; who -could have helped it?” - -Arthur Knight had tapped at the door of a room in which an old blind -servant, whom he had pensioned, was living; but the tap had made so -little noise that it was not heard, and he waited a few moments to -listen. A sweet, tender voice, which he recognised with a throb of -pleasure, was preaching that wonderful sermon in song from the text, -“Oh, rest in the Lord, wait patiently for Him,” which few can hear -without being hushed into quietness. He wanted to make the acquaintance -of the singer, and to know who she was and all about her, so he stood -outside the door until the sweet solo was ended; but from some cause the -door opened almost before the last word had died away, and his entrance -was precipitate. He apologised for it, and was sorry to disturb the -little party of three, who looked the picture of contentment. The old -servant was listening with a smile upon her white face, and the singer, -who was evidently getting as much pleasure as she gave, held on her -knees the little talkative child, who looked for once entirely happy to -be silent. - -The young lady rose to leave, after courteously responding to Arthur’s -greeting, and could not be persuaded to remain, although Sissie pleaded -earnestly enough. “It’s only Mr. Knight; he doesn’t matter, you know. Do -sing again. He will be sure to go directly.” - -“Yes, indeed,” said Arthur; “please do not let me interfere in the -least. How came you here, Sissie?” - -“I am only here till mother calls for me. Geoff was coming, too, but he -could not make haste to get ready. He was sweeping his teeth such a long -while.” - -“What was he doing, Sissie?” - -“Sweeping his teeth, don’t you know, with a brush. Everybody does it. -Mother says we must take care of our teeth, so Geoff is nearly always -sweeping his to make them quite clean. What are you all laughing at?” - -“Oh, Sissie Hancourt, you are a rich treat,” said the young lady, -kissing her. “Now, be good, and wait with Mrs. Smith until your mother -comes for you.” - -“Don’t go, I like you. Mr. Knight, please go away yourself, and then my -nice young lady will stay.” - -“Do not be unkind to Mr. Knight, Sissie. My cab is waiting, I heard it -stop at the door. Good-bye, Mrs. Smith, I shall come again soon.” - -“Do, dearie, it is such a comfort to see you.” The poor woman often -spoke as if she saw, though she was quite blind. Her young visitor shook -hands with her, and touched her shoulder caressingly, and then Knight -conducted her to the cab, looking rather wistfully into the pleasant -face, and wondering if he dare ask her name. - -“May I tell you something?” he asked. “You spoke to me some time ago -about the dwellings of my people—do you remember?” - -“It was impertinent of me to do so; but I was feeling very strongly for -that poor woman, and, of course, I did not know that you meant to do -anything for your _employés_.” - -“How could you know? It is good of you to take so much interest in the -people; and because you do I should like to tell you that I am preparing -to take my works and workers away together. I have bought some land in -Wales, and am building such dwellings as I think you would approve. Next -spring I hope the place will be ready, for there is a colony of builders -hard at work there. I could not do what I would here, and it seemed to -me that this would be the better way.” - -“What a good idea! Do you say that the place is already in course of -preparation? I see your name often in the papers, but I have never read -of this project.” - -“No; we have managed to keep it out of the papers, for a wonder; but the -place is being rapidly completed.” - -“Have you told the people?” - -“Not yet. I have been wondering whether it would be wiser to do so. Do -you advise me to tell them soon?” - -“I do, partly that it may comfort them, and partly that they may -familiarise themselves with the idea. You have not the _élite_ of the -working-classes in your employment, and the change which is needed is -more in themselves than in their circumstances, though when one thinks -of the environment of the people it is little wonder that some of them -are bad. I am glad they are to have a chance.” - -She drove away with a pleasant smile, and Arthur Knight wished he could -have talked with her for hours instead of minutes. He was determined to -find out who she was, if possible, so he returned to Mrs. Smith and -Sissie. - -“I am sorry I frightened your friend away,” he said. “What is the lady’s -name?” - -“She is Miss Grace. She lives in the country, and sometimes she brings -me fruit and flowers and vegetables, and she reads and sings to me. She -has a beautiful voice,” said Mrs. Smith. - -“She is a pretty lady,” added Sissie, “and I shall go and see her when I -know where she lives.” - -“Miss Grace? Is that her only name?” asked Knight. - -“That was what she said we were to call her, and her home is in Kent, -but I don’t know where.” - -And that was all the information which Arthur Knight could gain. - -In the evening of that day, after he had visited the classes, where, -under the best tuition that he could provide for them, the boys and -girls in his factories were being trained for their future lives, his -thoughts recurred to the remark which Miss Grace had made respecting his -people. It was quite true; he had _not_ the _élite_ of the working -classes in his employment. The low wages, and the general system on -which the works had been carried on, had not secured many of those men -and women, who, because of their nobility of soul, their spotless -character and high ability, belong truly to the upper classes of this -country, although they are but artisans and labourers. There were a few -of these, and Knight knew and honoured them; but most of his men and -women were of the lower sort. He was not sorry for that, for he and his -helpers, including Miss Wentworth, who superintended all sorts of -pleasant endeavours for the girls, believed that these same people -could, by kindness and firmness, be so brought under good influences -that a change for the better would be effected. And much had already -been accomplished. The language of the people had been purified (though -not until several had been dismissed for swearing), and their behaviour -and appearance had been greatly improved. Every Sunday afternoon Mr. -Knight held a service for his own people in a tent which he had erected -in his own grounds, and he was greatly encouraged because this effort -helped considerably to bring master and men into more intimate -relationship with each other. His pleasant, hearty addresses were -appreciated, and as soon as the men understood that his life in all its -bearings was in full accord with his words, many of them were prepared -to give him a respectful hearing. He had not convinced all that he was -their friend, but he was certainly going the right way to do so. - -And he decided that now he would take the people into his confidence, -and tell them about the places that were being made ready for them, and -of which he often thought with pride. Accordingly, he invited them, one -Saturday afternoon, to assemble in his grounds; and they came—men, -women, and children—and filled the space before the old house. - -“My friends,” he said, “I want to explain to you my plans for the -future, and make a proposition. In the first place, let me tell you that -I have determined to close all my works in London, and I have to place -before you a scheme of emigration.” - -This announcement filled some of the people with dismay, though others -saw the twinkle in the master’s eyes, and more than a few had an inkling -of what was coming, and waited with interest the development of their -employer’s idea. - -“I know what sort of places many of you live in, and they are not the -houses I should like you to have,” he said. “I know the rents you pay, -and that without a great addition to your wages it is impossible for you -to find better ones; and, therefore, I say you must emigrate. But, -knowing how dear to most of you this old England is, I do not propose to -ship you off to other and foreign lands.” - -Loud cheers greeted this assurance. - -“You know that my father left me a large sum of money, and much of it is -already spent; so that it is quite possible, unless you will help me, -that I shall become a poor man. I have spent the money in the purchase -of an estate, on which I am having built a model town, in a beautiful -district in Wales. You will find there friends to welcome you, who are -going to spend their lives in helping you, having already taken up their -abodes in these places. There is in course of erection a church, a -technical school, an elementary school, a building which in time is to -be a free library and reading-room, and there is also a people’s park -and recreation ground. In neither of them is there a public-house, and I -do not intend that there ever shall be; but in connection with the -library and reading-room there are a refreshment and dining-room. There -are numbers of working men’s homes, comfortable, and as pretty as one -could make them, each with a piece of garden attached to it, and each so -built that it will be possible for a man and his family to live in it in -decency and comfort at the lowest rent that will pay. The workshops and -factories and the whole place will be lighted by electricity, for plenty -of light is a necessity; and in each of them there will be an abundance -of those other necessities which God intended should be free to all His -children—plenty of beautiful, health-giving, fresh air, and pure, good -water. Now it rests with you to make my plan a grand success, or a -miserable failure; for what I propose to do is to remove my business -bodily, and you with it.” - -The excitement, which had been growing here became intense, and a -deafening cheer rang through the crowd. - -“My great wish is that you should be able to live under very different -conditions from the old ones—that you should get fair wages for your -work, and your money’s worth for your money. If you are willing to agree -to my stipulations, then I will advance you the money which you require -for your travelling and other necessary expenses. You know that this is -an age of great competition. You know, too already, that I have resolved -not to have bad materials used or manufactured in any business of mine. -‘Knight’s goods’ shall be good, and worth the price that is charged for -them, whatever comes; on that I am quite determined, even if the -determination should mean ruin. But if you will help me it shall mean -honour, and the highest kind of prosperity to us all. I propose, -therefore, to pay you the wages which your trades unions have decided -are fair, but I want you, by extra industry and skill, to earn more than -your wages. I propose that you should one and all become partners in the -concern, and share the profits according to the labour and skill which -you invest, so that if it be made a paying concern we shall all get some -benefit from it, and if a losing business we shall all lose together. -You know how to render it a success. Care, ability, industry, and -enthusiasm will make the thing go, and the lack of these will bring -everything to a standstill. If you are men enough and women enough to -carry this idea forward, then I hope you will come with me. And bring -your children too. After receiving a good education, such as will make -them able to compete as artisans with Germans, or Frenchmen, or any -other nation under the sun, they shall be taught also the trades of -their fathers. But if any of you love your bad habits better than this -new idea, then do not come with me, for I do not want you. If you mean -to do as little as you possibly can for your money, if you mean to be -loafers, and spend your wages in drink, we will not waste any money in -travelling expenses for you, because I shall not employ you, nor allow -you to live in any of my houses. If there are any wives here in love -with thriftlessness and idleness, who will let the new houses get as -untidy and uncomfortable as the old ones, they may stay in London, for -there are no pawnshops in my new places, nor any room for wasteful, idle -people of any kind. But if you are willing to leave the bad habits with -the old life, and turn your faces to the new, then you shall be assisted -by all possible means. I want you to be my friends, as I am yours; but -it is only right to tell you that you are not going to serve an easy, -good-natured sort of master if you serve me. Whoever breaks my rules -will leave my employment, so let none say that I have not given due -notice of my intention. To let a man or woman off who is found lazy or -drunken, or even incompetent, since I am willing to provide instruction, -is not to be really merciful to him or her, and is to be unjust to the -others. No gambling, drinking, or dishonesty; but plenty of pleasure of -the best sort; plenty of music, entertainment, lovely scenery, good -wages, and as much real happiness as one can provide for another—these -are to be the accompaniments of your new life. But happiness and -well-being are not for others to secure for us; we have to decide each -for himself in regard to these things. I appeal especially to the young, -whose lives are before them, if they will not resolve to make the most -of this opportunity. I now leave you all to make your choice. A month -from to-day you must hand in your decision in writing to the foreman of -your department, each writing the word ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ and signing his or -her name; and the head of each household must also write the names and -ages of the family wishing to go. And some time in the spring we will -have our new emigration.” - -More than a few went away to dream of the future, and prepare for it. -But Mr. Knight was mistaken if he thought that his action would be -universally appreciated and approved by his employés; and if he could -have overheard the remarks which some made as they filed out into the -streets, he would have been considerably enlightened. - -“What do you think of that, then?” - -“I call it the crackling of thorns under a pot.” - -“What I want to know is, where’s a fellow’s liberty to come in?” - -“That’s what I says; I ain’t agoing to be made a teetotaler willy-nilly, -and give up my beer for no young jackanapes like him. Not I! I be a bit -too old for that sort of thing. No, no, says I, you don’t catch old -birds with chaff, not a bit on it.” - -“And I says ditto. None of your buttercups and daisies, and no publics -for me. I am a man, I am, and I ain’t agoing to be a child, nor yet a -slave. I shan’t go.” - -“No, Jim, I guessed you wouldn’t as soon as I heard what he said. You -couldn’t be happy if you mightn’t get drunk twice a week, could you?” - -“You mind your own business, and let me mind mine. I shall do as I like, -and you may do the same.” - -“Thank you; as for me, I shall try the new life. There isn’t much to be -got out of the old one, I’m thinking.” - -“What nonsense it is for him to talk about sharing the profits! As if he -would! A fine lot will come to your share!” - -“I’m not sure about that. A good many masters are trying that on; and it -answers, too! The men put better work in, and more of it, if they think -all the reward doesn’t go to somebody else.” - -“I’d sell my chance for a pot of ale.” - -“Yes, I dare say. A friend of mine down at Hull was in just such a thing -as this, and a fellow sold him his chance for a shilling. But when the -end of the year came he wished he hadn’t, for his chance told up to -seven pounds ten.” - -“Ah! a likely tale that.” - -“It is a true one, any way.” - -“I shall make my man go, because of Polly’s eyes,” said a woman. -“Polly’s eyes are dreadful bad.” - -“What is the matter with them? Is it inflammation?” - -“No, its ulsters. The doctor says its her health fell in ’em, and she -wants fresh air. That settles the matter for us. Fresh air she wants, -and fresh air she shall have, now there is a chance.” - -“The fresh air will make a man of Polly,” said a person, who was dressed -in better clothes than most of the men. - -“Does the gentleman mean,” asked a young woman, timidly, of the last -speaker, “that we are all to go and live in the country?” - -“Yes, that’s his idea. How would you like it?” - -“I should love it. I go every summer for one half-day. Oh, it must be -beautiful to be always there, and see the green grass and all the -daisies and primroses.” - -“Oh, yes, my gal! All very pretty while the summer lasts, but when the -winter comes where would you be?” said the man who had been called Jim. - -“Out of the London fog,” was the reply, and there was a general laugh at -that. - -“But how about my father? I couldn’t leave him behind; he’s only got me -to work for him.” - -“Very well, then; you must put on your paper ‘Yes,’ and your name, and -then say, ‘I must take my family with me—that is, my dad,’ and I bet -something will be done for you.” - -“What’ll you bet, Jack? There ain’t got to be no gambling down there, -you know.” - -“And a jolly good job, too,” said a young man who had heard the last -remark. “I lost a pretty penny on yesterday’s horse, and where the money -is to come from to pay up I don’t know. I expect we shall be fools if we -don’t take this offer.” - -This opinion was decidedly in the majority. And, indeed, the more the -matter was talked over and commented upon the more attractive did it -become. And, as may be imagined, there was a vast amount of talk during -the rest of the day and the Sunday. Paradise Grove was a most lively -place for once, and nobody wanted to be in his or her own house, but -everybody wanted a chat with the neighbours. Some of the remarks were -doleful enough, for most of the women of Paradise Grove took a dislike -to Mr. Knight’s idea, and it is doubtful whether, but for the efforts of -“the Basket Woman,” they would have agreed to it. But she spent the -whole of that Saturday with them, and by her cheery congratulations and -hopeful words heartened everybody up. The poor things, who had known -nothing but grinding poverty all their lives, shrank from the -strangeness into which they were going, and believed beforehand that -they were certain to be, as one girl expressed it, “deadly dull.” They -did not want life to become strenuous. There was no ambition in them. -They would rather be as they were—in the old familiar places, within -reach of a gin-shop, and where they might be lazy and untidy to their -heart’s content, and be free to do as they liked—than nerve themselves -up to this new life. They did not want to be better off, they said, they -were satisfied as they were, if people would only mind their own -business and leave them alone. - -Their friend laughed at them, and drew the picture of their future in -glowing colours. She was not surprised at the apathy of the poor; the -rich are apathetic, too, with less than half the reason. The dwellers in -Paradise Grove were what they were because of generations of neglect and -suffering. It was not their fault that they had no ambition, and no -hope, and she pitied and did not blame them. But she had made up her -mind that Paradise Grove should be left comfortably vacant, and that the -little company she had taken into her care, and put down safely into her -very heart, should enjoy to the full the good things that had been -offered. - -“Are you going down there, Basket Woman?” - -“Of course I am. I should not like to be out of that. Besides, I shall -want to know how you will be getting on. And you will want me just as -much there as here.” - -“And how about the parish doctor? What are we to do without him?” - -“You won’t want him. I expect you will all pay your own doctor, or have -a club doctor, or something of that sort.” - -“And do you think Mr. Knight will allow any fun?” - -“What nonsense! Of course he will want you to be as merry as possible. -Do you suppose he wants to make you miserable? Does he look like it -now?” - -“Will he allow dancing?” - -“He will allow everything that is right. Why, you haven’t begun to dream -of the good times that are in store for you.” - -But the people, even those who were willing, were anxious about ways and -means. - -“What are we to do for furniture, Basket Woman? Ours looks a deal better -since you’ve ’namelled it, or whatever ’tis you’ve done. But most on ’em -are poor bits of things, and can’t be made naught else. They do very -well when we’ve only got a room, or, at most, two, to put ’em in; but -they won’t look nothing at all in a house; and I should be ashamed to -turn mine out for all the neighbours to see how poor they be, and how -few there is on ’em—I’d sooner not go at all.” - -“Yes, so would I,” said another. “And, besides, most of the furniture in -this Grove ain’t none too clean, and he won’t like it, I reckon, if we -takes all sorts of things down there with us.” - -“No; that I am sure he will not,” replied the Basket Woman, who wondered -if Mr. Knight had the least idea of half of the details involved in his -scheme. “Shall I see Mr. Knight for you, and explain your difficulties, -and discover what he can suggest? Will you send me to him as your -deputation?” - -“Yes, we will send you.” - -“And I will take Fanny Burton with me. You will send her, too, won’t -you?” - -“Yes, yes! hands up. There! we all agree.” - -“I don’t know whether it will be better to have a man or two in the -deputation.” - -“No, no! You go and settle everything for us. You don’t want no man. I -won’t say that they haven’t their rights, but they’re poor fish whenever -there’s anything got to be done. You go, Basket Woman?” - -“But you must all tell me this! Will you abide by what I settle for you? -Do you trust me enough for that?” - -They looked at her, and then at one another, and then back again at her; -and next a man took his pipe from his mouth, and clearing his throat, -delivered himself of the following sentences:—“I ain’t no speaker, I -ain’t, but I say for one as I’d trust that there Basket Lady any -lengths. She’s the best friend we’ve ever had in this ’ere Grove, and -she knows us, and what we like, and what we won’t stand; and she won’t -prove no sneak, I’ll lay my life on that. This Grove ain’t been the same -place since she come round a-basketing; nor our homes ain’t been the -same neither, and we’ve most of us fell in love with our old women over -again, all through her; and I say, here’s our duty to her, and what she -says is right as between Mr. Knight and us, I’ll stand by.” - -“Hear! hear! So we will all. Hooray for the Basket Lady!” said another, -and a hearty cheer was raised, in which both men and women joined. - -For a moment or two the recipient of all this public honour could not -speak. Her lips trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. It was a grand -time for her; how grand only those can know who stake their happiness -and very life on the good of others. Two lines of a hymn rang through -her soul— - - Oh, happy if ye labour, - As Jesus did for men. - -It will seem strange to many who read these words, but it is the truth, -that never before, and never after, in her whole life did she know such -a rush and ecstacy of gladness as she knew then. - -“Dear friends,” she said at last, “I thank you very much. As long as I -live I will be your friend; and I hope you will not be afraid to go with -me into this new life that Mr. Knight has made possible for us. I will -see him on Monday morning, and on Monday evening, after work-time, I -will let you know what he says.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - CHRISTMAS DAY. - - -“You are not like most women, my daughter Tom; you can keep a secret?” - -“But not from you, dear. I will tell you what you want to know, really, -if you put it in that way.” - -Mr. Whitwell and his favourite daughter were spending a cosy evening -together in the library at Hornby Hall. The lamps which lighted the room -were shaded, the curtains were drawn, and the fire burned brightly. Tom -sat on a low chair by her father’s side, and he laid his hand lovingly -on the short curls of her closely-cropped head. “Now, tell me if I -understand you rightly, Tom,” he said. “Instead of the usual -pocket-money which has been your share—a Benjamin’s portion always, you -know, because you are my youngest—you want me to give you a pound a -month. Next, you wish me to forget that I have a mortgage on John’s -land, which, indeed, as you say, I no longer hold since you have it. I -am not going to ask you to tell me what is in your heart to do, Tom; but -you are too sensible not to remember that business is business and right -is right. I cannot afford to make John a present of that deed, and he -would not accept it if I did.” - -“But he is dreadfully in want of money, isn’t he, father?” - -“Yes, he is; and so will you be soon if you try to make twelve pounds a -year do for your necessities. Does it not cost you half-a-crown each -time you go to London, even travelling by third class? And you would not -be content to go up less frequently than once a week; for what would -your young Crusaders do if they did not see you, and what would happen -to your old and sick people here if you never had a shilling to give -them?” - -“But a pound a month would not be all I should have. I have learnt how -to earn money by my own talents and industry. Has not that a grand -sound?” - -“What do you mean, dear?” - -“I have become a contributor of pictures to the daily papers. You did -not know that you had an artist in the family, did you?” - -“No, and I do not know it now.” - -“That is too bad of you. Really, I have been earning a little money in -that way for some time past. There, you see, I cannot keep a secret -after all. But, seriously, father, I feel so sorry for Cousin John. He -looks most anxious and miserable, excepting when he is doing something -for others, and then he brightens up. I know you are not rich, nor as -comfortably off as you might be if you would let that scapegrace heir -shift as he can by-and-by; but do you not think that you could strain a -point, and let me send that parchment to Cousin John as a -Christmas-box?” - -“No, Tom. It is very unreasonable of you to expect such a thing. -Besides, John wants more than a hundred and fifty pounds a year to lift -him out of his troubles. I have generally credited you with a fair -amount of good sense. Do not disappoint me now.” - -But Tom was very persevering, and persistence generally wins. - -She was correct in saying that John Dallington looked full of care. -Indeed, neither he nor Margaret Miller would have been able to bear the -worries of that time equably, but for the vivid interest which each was -taking in the new life that was developing around them. - -Margaret was discovering how bitter one woman can render the existence -of another. Mrs. Hunter made her hatred of the girl felt in a hundred -ways. The village of Darentdale was small, and it seemed that the two -must frequently cross each other. The glances of the lady’s eyes were -always vindictive and her words were barbed arrows. She was not careful -to hide her feelings, and everybody in the place knew how heartily she -hated the girl whom her son loved. Margaret was constantly hearing, -although she begged her friends to keep silence, what Mrs. Hunter had -said; and other letters, unsigned, followed the first, and made her -angry as well as wretched. Every action of hers seemed to be -misunderstood and misrepresented, and the state of things became -intolerable. - -John Dallington, upon whose young head some grey hairs were already to -be seen, was often vexed as well as unhappy; and a conviction began to -force itself upon his mind that he and Margaret would do well to end the -present unsatisfactory state of affairs by a speedy marriage. He would -leave his mother in undisturbed possession of the old home, and he would -take one of the better cottages on the estate, where he and his bride -would begin life together in a small way, and work and economise, and -love one another until more prosperous times came. It was a very -alluring prospect—if he could only get Margaret to adopt it! He resolved -that he would at least compel her to think of it, and decided that on -Christmas Day, which was approaching, he would lay his project before -her. - -In Darentdale there were to be no special spasmodic gifts of dinners and -flannels on the occasion. For more than a month two vestries belonging -to the chapels and the church schoolroom had been the scene of happy -evenings of industry, where young people had been busying themselves in -all sorts of ways, and especially in manufacturing pretty little -Christmas gifts, which had been disposed of at a sale, the proceeds -being divided among the workers. The superintendents—the ladies and -gentlemen who were trying to help the people to independence, instead of -demoralising them with alms—were exceedingly gratified at the result; -and it was with a ring of exultation in her voice that Margaret Miller -said: “We have not in the whole of Darentdale a single able person whose -hands have not been busy for more than a month.” - -There was, accordingly, very great happiness in the village on Christmas -Day. John Dallington heard the bells ring out their peal of gladness -early in the morning, and experienced for a few minutes the sort of joy -which had filled him in the spring when he first returned to England. - -The post brought him several cards and congratulations, and among the -rest a large envelope addressed in the handwriting of Tom Whitwell, -which he opened before the others. As soon as he saw the nature of its -contents the swift colour dyed his face and his pulse quickened. The -envelope contained the deed to which his thoughts had often referred, -and a note, which read thus: “DEAR JOHN,—There need be no ceremony -between cousins, and so I hope you will let me ask your acceptance of -the accompanying Christmas gift, with my love and best wishes. This is a -day, you know, when nobody feels vexed with anybody else, and Christian -humility fills all hearts, even those of young men. I rejoice, and so -does father, in the splendid things you are doing on your farm, and we -want to have a little share in them. Dear old John, you will be good, -and let us have our hearts’ desire, because of all the gracious -associations of the season, and because of the love of your two friends, -Tom and her father.” - -John Dallington went to church in the morning with his mother, and had -early dinner with her and Mr. William Hunter afterward. Then he wrote a -cheque which was due to Mr. Whitwell on that day, and sealed it up -together with the deed. - -“Mother,” he said, “I shall ride over to uncle’s and take tea at Hornby -this afternoon, if you have no objection.” - -“None whatever, John. Give my love to them all. And perhaps the girls -will come over and spend to-morrow with us.” - -“I will ask them.” - -Tom expected her cousin, but she could scarcely be quite her old natural -self. Mr. Whitwell at once gave John to understand that anything special -which he might have to say must be said to Tom and not to him. Tom gave -him no opportunity. She soon rallied her powers of merriment, and by the -aid of her sisters a pleasant afternoon was spent. John did not wish to -prolong his stay, for, however delightful the company of his cousins -might be, he was hungering for the few minutes which he had promised -himself should be passed with Margaret as the crowning joy of the day. -But neither did he intend to leave until he had put that deed safely -back into Tom’s hands. About seven o’clock he said, in desperation, -“Tom, may I have the honour of a five minutes’ serious talk with you?” - -“Certainly; it will give me great pleasure to be as serious as even you -can desire.” - -“Where can it be? May we go into the library, uncle?” - -“Oh, no!” said Tom, in frightened tones, “please let it be here, so that -my people can sympathise with me if the seriousness should deepen into -solemnity.” - -But John offered his arm and led her away, amid the significant glances -of her sisters. - -She was the first to speak when the door closed upon them, and they -stood facing each other before the fire. - -“You are not going to make a fuss, John, are you? Please don’t! There is -nothing whatever to be said.” - -“Yes, indeed, Tom, there is much for me to say. Do sit down.” He saw -that she was trembling, and thought it best to go at once to the point. -“Never had man such a kind little cousin as I have; but, of course, it -must not be. I should never respect myself again if I did not meet and -discharge my liabilities, as other men do. I know you are your father’s -man of business, Tom dear, so I hand you this cheque, due to-day, as -well as the deed. And I think you had better kiss me, and let us feel -that we are now and always the best of friends.” - -“John, do have it. I shall feel so bad if you will not. And father will -like to do it just as much as I. He does not need this cheque. If you -should become a rich man some day you can make it all right then; but -for the present do let it be as if this had never been. There, it is a -good thing that I have not to parse that last sentence, isn’t it?” - -“Tom, my mother sends her love; and will you all come and spend the day -with us to-morrow?” - -“No, John, I will do nothing until you put back that letter into your -pocket.” - -“It will be a hard experience for you, my little cousin, to do nothing -for the rest of your natural life.” - -At this juncture, I am sorry to say that Tom Whitwell disgraced herself -by beginning to cry, and John Dallington was genuinely distressed. - -“Oh! pray don’t do that, Tom. Try to be your own sensible self. Why, you -would never respect me again if I did this thing; and I should be sorry -indeed to forfeit your good opinion. Try to look at this matter from a -man’s point of view, dear. Your kindness to me has blinded you; but -suppose I were William Hunter instead of John Dallington, what would you -think? I shall get over my difficulties. They are not unusual ones, and -I am strong enough to cope with them. I shall buy back this paper which -you so generously wish to give me, and that will be so much the better -for us all round. Tom, do tell me that you think as I do!” - -Tom’s eyes, usually so merry, were suffused when she lifted them to his -face, and his mother’s suggestion flashed into his mind. He was sure -that Tom only cared for him as a cousin, and yet if he could have taken -her into his arms, and told her that he loved her, he could see that it -would be an easy way out of the difficulty; and what good news it would -be to take home to his mother. And Tom could be made to care for him in -time, he really felt sure of that. Dear little Tom, she looked very limp -at that minute, and she was hating herself heartily, too. - -She struggled bravely for a moment or two, and then conquered her -weakness. - -“I am a nice cheerful fellow for Christmas Day,” she said. “Excuse me, -John, I am miserably disappointed; I think you might give in, and let -father and me have a little pleasure for once. But you are so wilful. -Come and look at this picture. My sister Clara painted it, and gave it -to father this morning. He is very pleased with it, and Clara is really -clever.” - -John admired it, and several other new things which had been given to -his uncle on that day. - -“I wish I might be just such a man as he when I am his age,” said John. -“There is no man whom I honour as I do my uncle. I hope I shall never -give him reason to think other than well of me.” - -“Dear old dad!” said Tom. “There is no man like him in the whole wide -world; he is a king among men—a high, august, imperial emperor, and, -compared with him, all other men are mice, especially some!” - -She felt better after the outburst, and presently the two went together -into the drawing-room, where they were enjoying some music. Tom flushed -at the look of her sisters, but she knew that they knew better than to -question her, for she often boasted that she had brought her sisters up -in the way they should go, although they were all older than she. -Presently John left, and for the rest of the evening Tom gave herself -entirely to the entertainment of her father. They were such good friends -that he did not need to ask any questions but one, “Have you left it in -the library?” and she said “Yes; shall it be chess?” - -John’s horse carried him swiftly along the way, which his desire -travelled before him. He knew what he should see, and his heart longed -for a glimpse of the beautiful lighted face on which he would like to -gaze for ever. The roads were hard, and the moon shone brightly. It was -a peaceful wintry scene, and John’s heart was full of peace and -goodwill. It is true that he gave a few half-troubled thoughts to his -cousin, but he would not let himself suppose that more than ordinary -relationship had induced her to make the attempt she had made. “Dear -little Tom, she meant it kindly,” he said, “but I am sorry to see her so -weak. She never would have cried if she had been quite well; it is not -in the least like her;” and then all his attention was centred upon that -which was before, not that which was behind him. - -Ann Johnson opened the door directly he knocked. - -“A beautiful night, Mr. Dallington, indeed. Yes, they are at home, they -haven’t been out since the morning. Oh, no; it is not too late to wish -me a merry Christmas, which it is, though we don’t keep late hours in -the country. Why, dear me, there’s lots of houses in the great -metrollops where they are, as you may say, just about to commence their -jovialities, but I don’t care for that style: no great metrollops for -me, thank you.” - -Ann commenced one of her stories; but John stepped toward the room -whence he could hear the sound of the voice he loved; and Ann let him -pass into it without announcing him. - -To the eyes of Dallington there was no scene so exquisitely home-like as -that which he scarcely saw more clearly now than his imagination had -seen it as he rode through the night. The room was old, and not large; -it was furnished with perfect taste; there was not a showy thing in the -whole apartment, but everything that was comfortable and cosy, soft and -bright seemed gathered there. Mr. Harris sat on one side of the fire, -nursing a cat, and Margaret on the other, with her hand on the head of a -dog. A lamp was near on a small table, and the volume of Browning from -which she had been reading was laid beside it when John entered. She -glanced at him half shyly; she must not let him see how very glad she -was, but he did see, and his heart leaped for joy. He took the hand she -held toward him, and then, yielding to the hunger of love which impelled -him, he gathered her in his arms for one moment, and kissed her -tenderly, twice. Afterward, he turned to Mr. Harris with an apologetic -remark, “See; I have some mistletoe, and it is Christmas time, you -know.” - -“Very well; if you consider that these give you the right, well and -good,” was the reply. - -“I have a right, established on a better basis than that,” he said. And -Margaret, who was about to contradict him, held her peace. She could not -say that he had no right when her heart was filled with such glad music -at the very sight of him. All day she had been asking herself, “Will he -come?” and it was of no use for her to try to disguise the fact that an -hour spent with him held a year of happiness for her. - -They had some fruit, and then, at the urgent request of Mr. Dallington, -Margaret went on with the reading, John feasting his eyes upon her -bright head and graceful form, and watching the expressive face and -sweet lips with a joy that had much resolution in it. “Mine, my darling, -my very own, mine you are and must be; I would give the whole world for -you, and feel that it was too little.” So his thoughts ran as he -listened to the inflections of her beautiful voice, and saw the light on -her face. She left off occasionally to discuss the passages she had -read. “I am obliged to question Graf now and then, to be sure that he -understands,” she said, “and he and I do not always agree as to the -meaning. It is well to have another opinion.” - -Dallington gave his in a most hap-hazard way, and when he was rebuked -had the effrontery to confess that he had thought less of the reading -than the reader. Yet even he could not do other than listen again to the -well-known lines of Rabbi Ben Ezra, and especially the closing stanzas— - - “But I need, now as then, - Thee, God, who mouldest men! - And since, not even while the whirl was worst - Did I—to the wheel of life, - With shapes and colours rife, - Bound dizzily—mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst. - - “So, take and use Thy work, - Amend what flaws may lurk, - What strain o’ the stuff, what warpings past the aim! - My times be in Thy hand! - Perfect the cup as planned! - Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same.” - -So the time passed, and an hour seemed no time. They moved to the piano, -and sang Browning’s songs, after his poetry. Dallington had a good -voice, and he sang one after another, concluding with - - “So the year’s done with! - (_Love me for ever!_) - All March began with - April’s endeavour; - May-wreaths that bound me - June needs must sever; - Now snows fall round me - Quenching June’s fever. - (Love me for ever!)” - -Then Margaret sang a song from “James Lee’s Wife”; and so the hours flew -by, and Dallington arose to leave. - -“Ann Johnson will be angry with me, and think that I belong more to what -she calls ‘the great Metrollops’ than to the country, if I keep such -late hours,” he said. But Mr. Harris wanted some music of another kind, -and an hour was spent in sacred songs and solos. At last John wondered -what his mother would say to him, and felt that he must not linger -longer. The old man, whose dreams were of long ago, enjoyed the evening -almost as much as the young folks did; and he discreetly gave them a few -minutes alone after supper; and this was John’s opportunity. - -“Margaret,” he said, “I think you care for me a little, but perhaps not -enough to give me the answer that I want. It is a very unsatisfactory -state of things that exists between us now: surely you feel it as I do. -Why should we not end it by being married at once?” - -The suddenness of the proposal took Margaret’s breath away; and as she -did not reply John continued: “I am asking you to share my poverty with -me. My mother must remain undisturbed, and I should not like her income -to be less than it is; but we might begin life in a small way, and be -very happy together if you love me, Margaret. You do not care for a -great house and extravagant expenditure any more than I do—not that any -place would be too good for you, my queen——” - -“Oh, John; you know it is not a question of money; but I cannot marry -you now, and you must see that for yourself. There are several reasons, -but one will suffice. I shall never be married to you while your mother -dislikes me as she does now. I could not consent to come between you -two. She has no one to think of but you, and it would be too hard, after -being separated from you for so many years by the ocean, to be estranged -by something else.” - -“How do you know that my mother dislikes you? She is civil to you when -you meet.” - -Margaret smiled. “Yes—in a way—but it is impossible for me to mistake -the feeling with which she regards me. I am very sorry, for my own sake -as well as yours; but I could never be happy if I made your mother -miserable—because she is your mother.” - -“I wish she knew you, really.” - -“I am afraid it would make no difference.” - -“She knows that I love you, and hope to marry you, because I have told -her myself. She will relent after a time; but it is hard to wait. At -least grant me one favour, my darling. Let me know from your own lips -that you accept me, and give me your promise, as I give you mine, that -you will not marry another.” - -Margaret’s face paled a little. “I will give the promise, but not accept -it,” she said. - -“And I give it and accept it, too,” answered John, promptly. - -The thought that kept repeating itself to Margaret was, “If I could only -be sure about Tom!” and she was wondering all the time whether it would -not be better to ask her friend a direct question, and so get at the -truth. - -“And for the rest we must wait,” she said aloud. - -“We need not wait an hour before we are pledged to each other. Do grant -me at least this, my dearest, so that I can feel sure of you.” - -“Wait a week for that,” she said. - -“Very well; but you are not going to send me away without a crumb of -comfort, to-night of all other times. Tell me in so many words that you -love me.” - -“Oh, John, you know—you must know! I love you better, I think, than even -my own happiness. Be content, my dear one.” - -And he was. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - A REPORT OF PROGRESS. - - -“May the New Year bring in better times for the people!” This was the -wish of the thousands. - -“May the New Year bring in better people for the times!” This was the -wish of the tens. - -As is often the case, the tens were more wise than the thousands, for -the times do not make the people, but the people make the times; and if -the makers are good, that which is made is certain to be good also. - -That year was a most wonderfully progressive year in England: there had -never been anything like it before. There were forces at work to make it -so, which, though they were as old as Christianity itself, seemed to be -more mighty than ever, and the strongest of them all was love. People -said that there was a revival among the churches, but it resolved itself -into one fact—the members of the churches were honestly trying to love -one another more, not in word, but in deed and in truth. - -There was, perhaps, not a town nor a hamlet in which no special effort -was made to place things on a more satisfactory basis than before. It -could not be said that any one man was instrumental in bringing this -about, but Arthur Knight certainly had a large share in it, and an -indication of what was done in one town will show how the whole country -was being affected. - -In the fascination of his own personal work among his people, for whom a -strange, strong love was in his heart, he hesitated sometimes as to that -other work which he also loved. Which was his duty—that which lay the -nearest, or that which was the clearest? He had made his resolve: he -would do both. He was young and strong, and he would most gladly yield -his strength, ay, and his life itself, to this service. It is never the -men of leisure who do the great things, it is those who have not an hour -to spare who add new duties to old ones; and Arthur Knight was a man of -singular energy. - -Of course, it goes without saying, that he was constantly told that the -time was inopportune for his particular crusade, and that the poverty -and wickedness of the people was not the burning question of the day. -But what he pleaded for was a truce, and that all sorts of hostilities -should cease while the Christian men of England exerted their combined -powers to make England Christian. And the people were much more ready -for this than their leaders were. - -As far as he could, therefore, he accepted all invitations, and, thanks -to the newspapers, he always had a good hearing. But it was at -Granchester—a city certain to be at the front in such an enterprise—that -he was made most to rejoice. An invitation was, in the first place, sent -to about two hundred prominent men, irrespective of party or -denomination. Arthur Knight had not spoken to them for ten minutes -before all who were in the room became influenced by that strong and -vivid personality, which was the secret of his power. His heart was on -fire with his subject, and his language was expressive, and as he spoke, -first in indignation, and then in pleading accents, he won over to his -side almost every man who listened. Shortly, he touched upon those -specific evils of the day which were filling men with shame and -indignation; and then, in terse, strong words, he denounced the lethargy -and cowardice of those who allowed these things to exist. He declared -that all things were ready but the Church itself; and in words which -burnt their way into their hearts he called upon his hearers to show -some heroism for Christ, to give up their own ease, to share their -wealth—not always gotten Christianly—with the poor, to be honest in -their payments of wages, to come forth, like St. George of old, and kill -the dragon of indifference, selfishness and wickedness, which was doing -England such deadly wrong. - -“We have had such a sublime history,” he said. “We used to grow such -brave and patriotic men! Do we belong to another race than they? Is our -country less dear to our hearts than to theirs? It is such a beautiful -land, ‘a land of hills and valleys, that drink water of the rain of -heaven, a land which the Lord seeketh and careth for, and His eyes are -always upon it from the beginning of the year even unto the end of the -year.’ But in this land—this land of blessing, this little land—and -because it is little so manageable—there are scarcely unchecked powers -of evil lifting their brazen faces to our blue skies and pure air—greed, -cruelty, lust, drunkenness, slavery, hypocrisy, fraud. Do you know that -in this land of ours there are nearly five millions of people in -destitution and misery? But there are more than seven and a half -millions in our Sunday-schools. Of the thirty-six millions who make up -the population of Great Britain and Ireland the churches claim a -constituency of more than half. Indeed, it is said that five-sevenths of -our people profess and call themselves Christians. Then, why, in the -name of all that is sacred and responsible, is it possible for these -things to flourish in our midst? Are we hypocrites, or are we cowards? -All the real strength of the nation is with those who say they are on -the side of the Christ. Most of the power, most of the culture, most of -the intelligence, yes, and most of the money is on this side also. Then -why do we weep and whine over the sin and the misery of the world, -since, if for only one year the spirit of Christ were truly in us, and -we were content with one accord to stand together under the white flag -of Truce, we are well able to bring about that for which we pretend to -long and pray. There are subjects which divide Christendom; let them -wait while you set yourselves to this work. You are not called to -sacrifice any principle, but to adopt a new one—the principle which -keeps the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. Retain, if you must, -your different forms of church government, but, in the name of Christ, -unless you regard your sect and political party more highly than you -regard Him, put them behind you while you do the work that presses. -Study for a month or two, side by side with the New Testament, the words -of the great teachers specially given to this generation and this -land—Carlyle, Ruskin, Browning, and Tennyson. They tell you how to do -this work, to which they have been urging you with all their powers. We -have had a magnificent inheritance in these teachers, whom God sent to -make us great; and yet so craven are we that we are afraid to use our -power to compel a man to be clean-lipped and moral, and so powerless -that we cannot help him to help himself to be fed and clothed. To-day -there are women and girls drinking themselves drunken by scores in every -town, and selling themselves as if no spark of God were in them; to-day -there are men the personification of cruel brutality and loathesome -vice; there are little children dying for bread, and old people as -wicked as they are wretched; man is hating his brother man, and crushing -him down that he may make money by him, and there is a seething mass of -misery and sin at our very doors. And the saints are folding their hands -and sighing, ‘Oh, Lord! how long!’ Shame, shame, shame! Surely the Lord -sends back the question in indignant answer. How long, indeed, before -those who are sent to the world as He was sent, awaken to a -consciousness of their high calling? Let him that nameth the name of the -Lord depart from iniquity; or if he will not, let him stand aside with -the brand of the hypocrite upon him. Let no one say, Lord, Lord, and do -not the things which He says. Let those who are, on the whole, on the -side of Christ join those who are whole-hearted; let them swell the -numbers of the heroes and heroines, for there are hosts of them. Above -all, let the Church universal come together, and forgetting, at least -for awhile, the dividing lines, swear in the name of Christ to wipe out -the dark red blots that lie upon Christian England. Oh! believe me, we -have been too long and too utterly living for self instead of God. We -have thought that Christianity was a creed only, instead of life and -service. The time is surely come for us to choose sides afresh—and there -are only two sides from which to choose, that of Christ, and that of -unrighteousness. I call upon you to divest yourselves of all -encumbrances. (Think of the man with the muck-rake calling himself a -Christian!) Come and arrange yourselves under the Flag of Truce. Do you -not know yet, after all these years, what our Lord has been teaching all -along, that the world will never believe that God sent Jesus until His -disciples are one? It is the Church, and not the world that hinders the -coming of His Kingdom. But the Church will follow its leading men. Let -the remnant that has not bowed the knee to Baal come forth and lead.” - -The address produced a profound impression, and there was a solemn time -of re-dedication of many lives. A subsequent meeting was held, which was -of a very practical character. - -“I think I shall speak for many,” said one. “I know that I do for -myself, when I say that it has only been by keeping down the voice of -God’s Spirit within me that I have waited for these words before acting. -I am one of those who thirsted for riches, and got them; but they have -not satisfied me. I for one pledge myself to give all that I have and am -for Christ.” - -“And I pledge myself also,” said another. “We must make some change if -we would save our own sons. Many of us are what we are because of the -need to work which was upon us in our youth. But our sons are content -that the work was done for them. Gentlemen, _how are they spending the -wealth which we gained_? I speak to many fathers, who know that the -money which they gave the best years of their life to secure, is nothing -but a curse to their sons. Many of the young men of to-day are too idle -to keep the positions which we have won for them, and are spending what -we have given them, to work their own ruin.” - -The speaker’s voice died away in a sob, and everybody understood what -the trouble was which had made him prematurely old and grey. - -And then Mr. Felix Stapleton arose, and everybody looked at him with -interest. “I am sorry for the fathers whose sons bring trouble to them,” -he said, “and I am also a little sorry for those whose sons condemn -them. What many a man dreads more than anything in these days, when, -thank God, the boys of England are enlisting by thousands in the army of -the Young Crusaders, is the calm, clear-sighted judgment of his own -children. What would they think of us if they knew all the secrets of -our business transactions? How would they rate our pious talk about -Christian brotherhood if they knew precisely our treatment of those who -work for us? Mr. Knight’s rousing words are like a summons to arms; but -the soldiers in Christ’s army must be men without reproach. And who -among us is? We need grace to be true, and courage to do the right. We -are called to rule the world for the world’s good, and to stem the tide -of sin and misery; but first of all we must rule ourselves, and our -hands can only be strong if they are clean. God pity me; I am speaking -of myself.” - -There were a few who looked puzzled when Mr. Stapleton thus concluded -his short address, but his words would have awakened more curiosity at -another time. On the present occasion most men were busily searching -their own hearts, and were, therefore, less disposed to criticise -others. - -When he left the hall, Arthur Knight left with him, and the few minutes -which they spent together in conversation helped Stapleton at this -turning-point in his life to take the right course. - -“Let us concentrate our thoughts upon two points,” said another speaker. -“What ought to be done, and how shall we do it? We must not infringe -upon the liberty of the subject—no Englishman will stand that; neither -must we constitute ourselves a company of private detectives. But every -man must bring his personal knowledge of the world of human nature to -bear upon any new work which he may undertake. We all believe that the -best way to aid men is to help them to help themselves. This cannot be -done in the mass, but by one individual influencing another. Before we -go farther, let us resolve upon this one thing—_let none of us become -beggars for money_; there has been far too much of that already. _Let us -use the means that we have for the development of our own idea._ And let -us each begin at home. Let every man amongst us who is an employer of -labour ask himself whether he is fair and honest in the matter of wages. -Is there any man, woman, or child working for us at starvation prices? -If so, our first duty is to remedy that. No Christian man who is making -money can grind down his servants—no matter how unskilled may be their -work, nor how overstocked the market—without disgracing his religion. -Some of us have done this without knowing it, because we let all these -things be settled by middlemen; but the responsibility is ours, and this -ought to be seen to first.” - -Another speaker said: “Every church or chapel must be the centre of all -sorts of helpful ministries for the poor who are around us. There is a -great outcry because some of us have moved away into the suburbs; but -_the people_ are around these buildings in large numbers. Let us use -some of these places every day for the social work of the churches. Many -of us are looking out for good investments. Cannot we find our -opportunity here? I will take or buy one of the cottages in the street -nearest my own chapel, and make a workshop for the unemployed of the -bottom story, and an evening recreation room of the top. At the chapel -we have particularly good arrangements for teas; I will see if we cannot -provide cheap and good dinners for the people there. We must care more -for the people and less for the buildings.” - -It will be seen how ready for immediate action these men were, and -indeed the need was then very pressing, both at Granchester and -everywhere else, for the winter had brought more than the usual misery. - -In some towns there was formed what was called “The Committee of -Helpfulness,” and it had abundant work on its hands. An account of one -will serve for all. Anything and everything that love and thought could -do was to be done; but the main idea and aim before it was to secure the -young. The members of the committee could themselves only feel their way -to the full development of the new ministry, and they called for -volunteers. - -“We will begin with the smallest,” said a lady. “I will belong to the -Needlework Guild, because there is nothing else I can do. There are poor -women in the parish who are overworked with their large families, and -who will feel it a very neighbourly thing if we send strong shirts for -the boys and dresses for the girls. I will try and enlist others who, -like myself, have been do-nothings; and we will utilise such odds and -ends of materials as we can find in our own houses, or that may be given -to us. If we have more than we need, we will send some to London. Many -children would attend both the Sunday and day school more regularly but -for the difficulty of dress. This is only a little thing; but it will be -a relief to some of the mothers, which they will greatly appreciate.” - -“I ask to be put upon the committee of the Neighbours’ Union,” said -another member of the conference—a man of fair means. “There are old -persons and poor widows who have appealed to our Poor Law Guardians in -vain. They, in order to keep down the rates, and to stamp out pauperism, -refuse outdoor relief, and offer the hospitality of the union workhouse. -But we can do better than that. Every parish is probably able to take -care of its very poor, and also to become sufficiently acquainted with -the people to know who could be wisely helped, and who ought not to be -helped at all. Certainly we can undertake this. In twenty or thirty -years’ time there may be some national system of insurance against -sickness and old age; but we need not wait for that. The strong and the -active will have to help the sick and the old. We have been doing it all -along. Only now, let it be understood, that the Neighbours’ Union exists -in obedience to the example of the Good Samaritan. It has been a -disgrace to the church organisations of any place, where life has been -rendered miserable, through poverty, to the sick and the old.” - -“I ask to be allowed to work at the other extreme of our social life,” -said a young man, “and be on the Children’s Play Committee. We ought to -have every child of the parish in one or other of our Sunday-schools. -There are some who are not, but I think we shall find no difficulty in -getting every child into our play-places. First of all, we must see that -they have good times; and, secondly, we must, while giving them the -utmost liberty, endeavour to influence them. And we must not rest until -we get all our lads enrolled among the Boy Crusaders.” - -In this way, and others, the idea of brotherly kindness was spreading; -indeed, there was scarcely a church or chapel in connection with which -there was not some new activity; and, what was better still, that New -Year’s Day was, by common consent, devoted to self-examination on the -part of those who professed to be the servants and followers of Jesus -Christ; and not only where men and women were assembled together, but in -the quietude of their own rooms thousands were asking and answering, as -in the presence of God, the question which had haunted Dr. Stapleton, -“Am I a Christian?” - -For the Doctor himself the answer had been found by many people in -Scourby, who had decided in the negative. He was so woefully altered, he -looked so miserable and ill, he had aged so greatly in a few months, he -was so utterly unlike his former self, that, forgetful of the charity -which thinketh no evil, some who had been his friends had convinced -themselves that only a guilty conscience could account for the change in -him, and had treated him accordingly. - -Quite how the scandal grew no one could tell; but Stapleton had the -bitterness of knowing himself entirely unpopular and disregarded. Ladies -passed him in the public ways without recognition. Men, if they saw him -coming, turned into side streets; and things came to such a pass with -him that at last he wondered if he had a real and staunch friend left in -the town where, less than a year ago, he could have counted them by -hundreds. - -The people of Scourby were feeling bad-tempered with everything and -every one, because they considered themselves disgraced. The example set -by the town had been followed in other places, and Mr. Richard Lavender -had three men likeminded with himself to keep him in countenance, since -they also had been sent to Westminster, not as either Conservatives or -Liberals, but, as they themselves said, as Anarchists, and in opposition -to Religion and Respectability. - -These four men unwittingly did more for their country than they -intended. - -At Scourby there was much bickering between Churchmen and Dissenters, -who each blamed the other for what had happened. But they were united in -declaring that something must be done, so that at the next general -election that which was intolerable to them should be avoided. - -Mr. Whitwell came to the rescue. It occurred to him that this might be -an opportunity for a common ground of meeting between all sections of -the Church of Scourby. He, therefore, called on the Nonconformist -ministers and the clergymen, and succeeded in getting from them a -promise that for once they would sink their differences, and meet -together in the interests of the town. What he had to go through that -day, what arguments he found it necessary to use before he could -accomplish his object, he never told any one; but his favourite daughter -guessed it when he threw himself into a chair on his return, and said, -“Tom, play me something soothing, for I have never had such a day’s work -in my life.” - -Tom was an excellent musician, and knew well what her father liked, so -she gave him one exquisite strain after another until at last he was -ready to talk. “The ministers of Scourby,” he said, “have agreed to call -their people together to consider the present crisis, and to suggest -plans. First of all they are to have a meeting among themselves. The -vicar of the parish church wanted it in his schoolroom, but the -Congregational minister objected; he said his people would not go to the -church school, they would not trust the vicar enough for that, and he -suggested his own schoolroom. The vicar did not think his people would -go there, and eventually it was settled to have the preliminary meeting -here, so you and I are to drive into Scourby to-morrow, and fetch them -all to luncheon.” - -“Hornby Hall is acknowledged to be neutral ground, then? How glad I am. -Will the parsons let me be present at the meeting?” - -“I wish they would. I believe you could make a very good speech on -Christian union, Tom.” - -It is gratefully recorded, as one of the most hopeful signs of the -times, that this meeting of ministers was a success. For two whole hours -they elected to believe in one another, and each man endeavoured, to the -best of his ability, to give his brother ministers, whether of the -Episcopal or the Free Churches, credit for being actuated by the same -high motives as those which governed himself. They did not, therefore—as -they so easily might have done—frustrate the endeavours of the -layman-peacemaker, but loyally seconded them. - -Mr. Whitwell, as the host, was also the president. He proposed, after -luncheon, that they should open their conference by prayer, and called -upon a young Primitive Methodist minister to lead them. This gave the -right tone to the conversation, and a few words from Mr. Whitwell, -expressing the hope that there would be a concerted action on the part -of the Church to wipe out the stain which had been put upon the town, -were well received. Then the vicar proposed that a meeting of Christian -townsmen should be called to arrange some method of procedure. This was -seconded by the Wesleyan superintendent, and cordially carried. They -then proceeded to details, first settling upon the place of meeting, and -then upon the speakers. There were in all fourteen buildings in Scourby -erected for the worship of God, and in the name of Him whose great wish -for His disciples was that they might all be one; but it was decided -that neither of these would serve their purpose, it was safer to hold -the meeting in the town hall. It was to be called by letter, which each -man undertook to send to the members of his own church. Mr. Whitwell was -to preside over that meeting also, and the least political of the -ministers was to move a resolution of regret at what had occurred, and -determination to prevent a repetition of it. - -A large number of men responded to the invitation; many who took no -active part in politics feeling that they ought to be present on this -occasion. After the chief speeches had been made, the meeting was thrown -open for discussion, and it was at this juncture that some of the most -forcible words were uttered. Each speaker was allowed five minutes; and -several crisp little addresses were worthy of being remembered. - -“Sir,” said one, “let us petition Parliament to declare the election -void, because it is an insult to our Lord more than to us. And yet I -think it would not have happened if we had not been caught napping. Here -are all our ministers sitting on the platform together. How is it that -such a sight in Scourby was never witnessed before in the memory of -living man? If, as soon as the vacancy occurred, you gentlemen had -called us together, there might now be representing us in Parliament a -man of whom we might all be proud, instead of one of whom we are all -ashamed. Gentlemen, are you not supposed to be our leaders? Why, then, -did you leave us to ourselves in the late emergency?” - -“What we have always wanted is union,” said another. “The time has -surely come for it now. There are plenty of other men like Mr. Lavender, -ready to declare themselves haters of what we love. I hope other towns -will profit by our mistake. This is a meeting to be thankful for. We are -forgetting, for this one night, whether we are Radicals or -Conservatives, and only remembering that we are Christians. For God’s -sake, let us work shoulder to shoulder in the future.” - -John Dallington had invited Arthur Knight to come down and speak at that -meeting; and though he only had five minutes, he managed to make one of -his characteristic speeches. “Why,” he asked pertinently, “did the men -of this town believe in Richard Lavender instead of in you? Is the -British working man a fool, that he does not know his friends? What have -you, the representative Christian men of Scourby, called to be rulers of -men for their good, been doing that this thing should have happened to -you?” - -Mr. Whitwell was so delighted with Arthur Knight that he told his nephew -he must have him for his guest. “Come, too, John,” he said, “and let us -talk these things over. My wife and daughters will be glad to make your -acquaintance, Mr. Knight. Here is the youngest. Tom! Let me introduce -you to each other. Mr. Knight, of London—Miss Grace Thomasine Whitwell.” - -Tom blushed vividly; and as for Arthur Knight, he was so astonished that -he did not know what to say, for he suddenly became conscious that he -was looking into the bright face of the lady whom he longed to know, and -holding the hand that had rendered such kind service to some of his -people. He was going to exclaim, but Tom greeted him as a stranger, and -though her eyes were sparkling with fun, they said, as plainly as any -words could have done, “Do not dare to say that we have met before!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - DISCOVERED. - - -The alacrity with which Arthur Knight accepted Mr. Whitwell’s invitation -to spend the night after the Scourby political meeting at Hornby Hall, -and the readiness which he exhibited to prolong his visit, puzzled his -friend, John Dallington, exceedingly. It was as if Knight, one of the -busiest men in the land, had nothing whatever to occupy him, so entirely -did he yield himself to the passing pleasure of the time. John could not -guess what the circumstances were which gave to the incident an -irresistible charm, but Arthur felt as if he had found unexpectedly a -mine of treasure for which he had been willing to search the world over. -And Dallington was forced to acknowledge to himself that from some -reason or other his cousin Tom was more delightful, and his friend -Knight more happy than he had ever seen them. - -Naturally the talk at the supper-table was of Scourby and its troubles, -and of the other places where bye-elections had resulted in similar -returns. - -“It will be a lesson to us,” said Mr. Whitwell, “and I hope that in time -politics may assume a new aspect. After all, both parties are agreed -upon main points, for Conservatives and Liberals alike have, or are -supposed to have, the best interests of the nation at heart. Our -divisions are caused by our divergence of opinion as to the means by -which the same ends are to be secured.” - -“Exactly; and this may be said of our religious differences. We all, or -nearly all, believe that salvation is through faith in Jesus Christ, and -that to be a Christian is to be a believer in and a follower of Him. We -believe, too, that the peace and well-being of peoples is to be secured -through allegiance to Him. Is it not wonderful, then, that both in -Christianity and politics we often seem as far apart as the poles?” - -“Not at all wonderful,” said Tom, “seeing that man is always a combative -and disagreeable creature, and that the more civilised he is the more -stubborn is the animosity which he cherishes towards every one but -himself. Did you ever know a body of men in committee who did not waste -the time in discussion and disagreement?” - -“Yes, I have frequently observed the phenomenon, Miss Grace; and are not -most things the better for being threshed out in discussion? Many men -means many minds; and in ‘the multitude of counsellors there is safety.’ -There is not necessarily antagonism because there is difference of -method; but no one more regrets than I that these differences should be -accentuated until they actually create a division among those who ought -to be heart and soul together.” - -“What names do you propose to give the new parties, Mr. Knight?” asked -Miss Whitwell. - -“No names at all. We will try and get the things and name them -afterward. We want the party of righteousness to oppose the party of -wrong, that is all.” - -“But, of course, that is exactly what we have now,” said Dallington. -“Every man believes that his own party is for the right and the other is -not. It is a question of standpoint.” - -“Yes; but making allowances for that sort of thing, there is some common -ground upon which we can all meet, and men who have consciences ought to -occupy it while they make one grand united effort on behalf of those -whose existence is little more than a struggle.” - -“All life is a struggle, though,” said Dallington, “and working men must -have their share.” - -“I have been much interested in hearing of your plan in regard to your -own workpeople,” said Mr. Whitwell. “I hope it will succeed. You are -spending an immense sum of money on the new town which you are founding. -I know that because of the little I have tried to do on my own farm. I -hope you are not doomed to disappointment.” - -“I am not afraid of that. I am spending all that I have at present; but -my London places occupy valuable sites, which I shall have no difficulty -in selling. My hopes are sanguine in regard to my people, although I -know that human nature is a very difficult thing to deal with. The -people need new natures more than anything, but I believe that we are -all greatly influenced by our environments, and my men shall have a -chance.” - -“All sorts of good influences are being exerted upon young people -to-day,” remarked Mr. Whitwell, “and therein lies my hope for the -future.” - -“Yes; and the wisdom and patience of those home missionaries who have -taken London in hand appear unfailing,” said Knight, glancing at Tom, -who returned the glance with a comical smile. “Several educated men are -giving all their leisure to the boys belonging to my establishment, and -there are some ladies who are bringing about very happy changes in the -homes of the people.” - -“Miss Wentworth has not gone to Madeira this winter, Arthur, has she?” -asked Dallington. - -“No; and she spends all her days in doing good. There is a young lady, -too, who is occasionally seen by the bedside of the sick, who is like an -angel of light”—Tom flushed violently, and shook her head -warningly—“but” proceeded Knight, “perhaps the best work of all is that -which is accomplished by an individual who seems to have no name, but is -known as ‘the Basket Woman,’ because she carries to the doors of the -people all sorts of necessary articles in a basket and sells them. She -is a lady of culture and refinement, very good and sympathetic, and most -sensible too, and she has brought about quite a change in one of the -worst courts of London. She appears to be alone; and at first I wondered -what her friends could be thinking of to let her be there in the midst -of so much that is degrading; but now the men of the neighbourhood would -not let a hair of her head be hurt, so entirely has she won their -confidence and affection. The Basket Woman is preparing nearly five -hundred people for their new home in Wales as I think no one else could. -She heartens up the women, and looks well after the children, especially -the boys. She has a large number of the young crusaders under her care.” - -“What a wonderful movement that is!” commenced Mr. Whitwell; but Tom -interrupted him. - -“Excuse me, father. I must ask Mr. Knight to tell us more of this Basket -Woman. What is she like? Is she young or old?” - -“She is young and fairly good-looking, and quite devoted to her work. -But she gives me the impression of an individual who has had trouble, -and is even now undergoing considerable anxiety of some kind. She must -have private means, though she lives economically in cheap lodgings in -the neighbourhood of the people for whom she works, but she is able to -relieve distress when it is genuine.” - -“It cannot be Mary Wythburn! I must surely have met her sometimes if it -had been she!” exclaimed Tom, forgetting herself for a moment. - -“But you do not know Mr. Knight’s place or people, do you, Tom?” -inquired one of her sisters. - -“I do a little—that is, one or two of them. I went to see a poor woman I -heard of who was ill near that neighbourhood. But Mary Wythburn! Is it -possible?” - -“We had better tell Mr. Knight about Mary,” suggested Mr. Whitwell, and -John Dallington related the incident of the frustrated wedding. When his -friend had heard the story he was very doubtful as to Miss Wythburn and -the Basket Woman being the same individual. - -“My Paradise Grove friend is far too sensible to have acted in that -manner,” he said. - -“But I have a feeling that it is she,” said Tom. “I wish we had Mary’s -portrait that we might show it to Mr. Knight. Margaret Miller has one, I -will borrow it in the morning.” - -“You will be able to spend to-morrow with us, Mr. Knight?” queried Mrs. -Whitwell. “I am sure you will be interested in what my husband is doing -for his tenants.” - -“I shall have to leave about midday, unfortunately,” he said. “I have -made an appointment with the Basket Woman, who has been vainly trying to -waylay me for some time. She wishes to make a suggestion to me on behalf -of the people. The next day I have to be in Granchester again.” - -“That is where Dr. Stapleton’s rich brother lives. I wonder if the -doctor will go to your meeting, Mr. Knight?” Then followed a little -account of the doctor’s doings as far as they were known. - -The time passed all too quickly, although they talked far into the -night. Next morning John Dallington left early, and Arthur Knight had a -country ride with his host over the farm and along the roads. Tom was a -good horsewoman, and she accompanied them. Arthur enjoyed a long talk -with her; but she was determined not to give him the chance of seeing -her alone. He was intensely interested. He found her so pleasantly -piquant, so merry and entertaining, that sometimes he wondered if she -had two natures; for there was little to remind him of the sweet singer -who had comforted the blind woman only a short time before. He had no -opportunity to refer to the incident, or to say a word of their past -meetings, only as he was leaving Tom said, softly, “Give my love to -Sissie when next you see her, and also to the Basket Woman, if she -should prove to be Mary Wythburn.” - -He had a pressing invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Whitwell to repeat his -visit, and this he promised to do at no distant date; but for a little -time he was full of engagements. He wished, very sincerely, that he -might become better acquainted with the youngest daughter of his host, -who puzzled as much as she pleased him. - -Of course, he did not forget the commission which she had given him. - -“When are you going to tell me your name?” asked Arthur Knight, when the -lady in grey presented herself before him as a deputation from Paradise -Grove. - -The question disconcerted his visitor, whose cheeks flushed, while her -eyes sought the floor. - -“Excuse me, Mr. Knight,” she said, “the name does not matter. Please -call me the Basket Woman, as usual.” - -She stole a glance into his face, and saw that he was looking at her -intently; but she would not allow anything to interfere with the task -that she had on hand, and hastily proceeded to explain the cause of her -visit. - -“I come as a deputation from Paradise Grove,” she said. “Fanny Burton -was to have come with me; but, unfortunately, one of the children in the -Grove was seized with croup in the night, so that we could not both be -spared. Your astonishingly kind proposition has been the subject of much -talk among the people, but I am afraid you will find the scheme more -costly and troublesome than you have imagined.” - -“I suppose they are not enthusiastic, are they?” - -“Perhaps it cannot be said that on the whole they are. Years of dull -poverty and hopelessness have taken all the spirit of enterprise out of -some of them; but many quite appreciate the offer, and are looking -forward with interest and expectation. I think the idea magnificent. And -I do not mean a single individual of my people to be out of it.” - -“That is right. You will no doubt get your own way; and I am much -obliged to you.” - -“But, Mr. Knight, they are in trouble about their furniture. What are -they to do with that?” - -“Will they not take it with them? They will want it in the new place as -much as in the old.” - -“But you do not forget what the old places are like, do you? If you -remember, there is very little furniture to speak of in Paradise Grove. -The beds and tables and chairs are all old, and most of them broken. The -houses, since we tore down the dirty paper and had all the walls freshly -whitewashed, are much cleaner than they were, and there has been a -considerable quantity of soap and water brought to bear, not only upon -the walls, but upon the furniture also. But still, I think it would be a -great pity if these old things were put into your new houses. It would -be a great expense, too—almost as much as they are worth to take them -down.” - -“But what is to be done? They cannot do with absolutely empty houses, -and I am afraid very few of them have money to buy new tables and -chairs.” - -“Certainly they have not. How should they have?” - -“Do you propose that they should sell their old things and buy new with -part of the money?” - -“I think, if it is not an impossible thing, for you to have the -houses—those for the poorest people, at all events—furnished for them, -with a few plain things which are absolutely necessary; it will go a -long way to make your idea a success.” - -“Yes. And is the furniture to be mine or theirs?” - -“Yours, until they have paid for it.” - -“I suppose it might be possible, but it would be rather an undertaking -added to all the rest.” - -“Yes, I know it would, and am not surprised that you hesitate. But you -could get so large an order completed for the whole at much less cost -than the people could individually; and if you undertake the furnishing -as well as the building of these houses, you will be doing it all very -completely, and can fairly make better terms for the people than they -could for themselves. Many of the better class of workmen have made -their homes comfortable, and will probably prefer to take their -furniture with them. It is the very poor who would be helped. If I may, -I would suggest that those who have goods to sell should prepare a list -of them, and then arrange to have them sold at public auction. There -will be plenty of buyers among the poor who are to be left behind if the -things are sold cheaply, as, of course, they must be, and then whatever -they fetch, after paying expenses, might be put down to the credit of -the persons who were owners of the goods.” - -“Yes; some arrangement of the kind can no doubt be made. We will do the -best we can.” - -“Thank you. I was sure you would. I often try to picture their delight -when they are really settled in their new homes, with their friends -about them, and so much of joy and comfort which they never expected -added to their lot.” - -“It will be good to know that they all start comfortably in their new -homes. You have taken a great interest in them. I hope they will repay -your kindness.” - -“They have done that already. They need to be carefully dealt with; they -must not be demoralised with gifts, but helped to make themselves -comfortable by their own earnings, and then they will be all right. I am -delighted with the change in the Paradise boys and girls.” - -“Yes, so am I. You have dealt wisely with them, and gone far to prove -what an educated woman can do among those who, notwithstanding our -so-called system of education, are deplorably ignorant. I suppose you -had no idea, when you were graduating at the University, that you would -spend these months in slum-work.” - -“No, indeed, I had not,” she said, and suddenly stopped, and looked at -Arthur Knight in amazement. “Why do you suppose that I have had a -University training?” - -“I have heard so.” - -“But who could have told you? No one knows anything about me.” - -“Pardon me, Miss Wythburn. I was at Scourby yesterday, and I spent last -night at Mrs. Whitwell’s house near Darentdale. Your friend, Miss Tom -Whitwell, showed me your portrait. I had mentioned the Paradise grove -Basket Woman, and she cleverly jumped to the conclusion that you are -yourself.” - -“It was like Tom,” she said, and hid her blushing face in her hands, -overcome with emotion. Knight considerately allowed her a few minutes in -which to recover herself, which she speedily did, and said, trying to -laugh, “So I am found out at last. How are all my people, Mr. Knight?” - -“I suppose you know that your father and mother are not now in Scourby?” -he asked, gravely. - -“Yes, I know,” she said, “for I have been to see. I had no answer to two -letters, although I gave my address in them, so one day I went down to -find my home shut up. Do you know where my father and mother are, Mr. -Knight?” - -“You have been wrong, Miss Wythburn,” said Knight, gently, “so far as -your parents are concerned. They have been in London looking for you. I -am glad to be able to give you their present address.” - -“Oh, thank you, so much.” The Basket Woman could scarcely repress her -tears. - -“It is not my place to lecture you, and I apologise for doing so; but I -cannot help pointing out to you that you owe a greater duty to your -parents than you can possibly owe to strangers, even though the -strangers are the very poor, who greatly needed a friend. I quite -appreciate the real good you have been doing in Paradise Grove, but you -know as well as I that it ought not to have been done at the expense of -the happiness of your own father and mother.” - -“Yes, you are right,” she said, humbly; “but I think you do not know all -the facts of the case.” - -“I know some of them,” he said; “for instance, that you have the right -to wear the graduate’s cap and gown instead of the grey cloak.” - -“I prefer the grey,” she said, brightly, rapidly recovering herself; -“and although my conscience has not been at rest, I have spent the -happiest months of all my life in Paradise Grove. But I am glad you have -seen Darentdale. Is it not lovely?” - -“It is, indeed; it is almost as beautiful as our new place in Wales. Are -you going there with our people?” - -“Oh, yes; unless my father and mother object. I will always take them -into my confidence in future. I need not tell you, Mr. Knight, that the -thought of them and what I have done to pain them has made me constantly -unhappy.” - -“I can well believe that. I hope you will still be able to help the -people for whom you have made Paradise a real thing.” - -“Nay, that is what you are going to do, if you do not spoil your lovely -valley with houses and factories.” - -“I hope not; I think not. There are no tall, smoky chimneys, you know, -and there will be no noisy machines; all will work cleanly and silently, -thanks to the benign inventions of the age. And every house has a garden -attached to it.” - -“Oh, it will be delightful,” she said, rising to leave. “And I will lose -no time in going to see my dear ones now.” - -She could scarcely wait until evening, but as she had promised, she did -so. The talk with Mr. Knight had disturbed her considerably, and her -thoughts had flown back to her happy home life, and her pleasant college -days. She would not give up her work, she resolved nothing should cause -her to do that; but she was glad, indeed, to be going to live, though -only for a few days, the old calm, restful life. - -“It is all right,” she said, as soon as the people gathered in the -evening. “Your cottages will be plainly furnished for you, and you will -pay for the furniture, and add to it afterwards. And, oh! it is a most -lovely place to which you are going. The sea is like silver and the -woods are like Paradise—ah, not such a Paradise as you know here! Now, I -am going to take holiday for a week; you will grant me that, will you -not?” - -“Oh, yes, but mind you don’t stop longer than your time!” - -“No, I will not. And now I must say good-bye, for I shall be off before -any one is up in the morning. I must make the most of my time, you know; -a week is not long.” - -“She looks mighty glad about it,” said one to another, as soon as she -turned to go to her house. - -“Yes, she does that. I think it’s right what they say; and she ain’t -really no Basket Woman!” - -“Not she! She’s a lady, if ever there was one, and that I’ve said all -along.” - -Before she could close her door a man presented himself. - -“I want to send to my wife, ma’am,” he said. “I’m going to send her some -money, and tell her to get ready to go with me to this new place; but it -stands to sense as I don’t want all the neighbourhood, so to speak, to -know my affairs; and if so be as you’re too busy to help me, I don’t -rightly see what’s to be done.” - -“What do you want me to do?” The manner of the speaker was patient and -sweet as ever, and the tumult in her own heart was made to subside as -she rendered the service which the man required. - -“Well, I want a letter to go with the money, and I can’t write.” - -“Oh, I see. Here is some paper. Now tell me what you wish to say, and I -will write it. First, take a seat, and make yourself comfortable. Now, -are you ready? Tell me how to begin, then.” - -“My dear wife.” - -“Yes.” - -“I write these few lines to you, hoping to find you quite well, as it -leaves me at present; thank God for it.” - -“Yes.” - -“I’ve had the skyattiker very bad, indeed, lately——” - -“The what?” - -“Sky-attic-ker!” - -“Oh! ah! yes; sciatica. Thank you; go on.” - -“The skyattiker all down one side; but it is better now, through a -Basket Woman as give me some Holloway’s ointment. Beg pardon, ma’am.” - -“Not at all! Basket Woman—ointment—yes; what next, please?” - -“I hope the children are all right, bless their little hearts.” - -“Yes.” - -“I’ve got some news for you.” - -“Yes?” - -“Me and my mates are going out of town to live and to work, and I want -you to join me.” - -“Yes?” - -“So get things ship-shape with the post-office order what I send, and be -ready to come to me as soon as I send for you.” - -“What next?” - -“So no more at present from your affectionate husband, John Sturman.” - -“Affectionate husband, John Sturman. There it is, then,” and the writer -proceeded to blot the page and fold the sheet. But the man looked very -dissatisfied. - -“Stop a minute,” he said; “you had better put at the end of the letter: -‘P.S.—Excuse bad writing and bad spelling.’” - -The letter-writer’s laugh rang out merrily, but she faithfully added the -postscript. - -“Now for the address,” she said. “Have you a stamp?” - -The man afterwards confided to a mate that the thought of going out of -town seemed to have been “too much for the Basket Woman,” for he had -caught her “giggling like anything.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - A NEW MINISTER. - - -A church and congregation in Granchester were without a minister, and -had been for some time. If there were not many of them, there were many -minds among them, so that it was not quite easy to find a pastor who met -the wishes of them all. It was unfortunate. - -The congregation became smaller and smaller, the week-night service was -so neglected that there seemed little use in keeping it on at all, until -at length it dwindled into a prayer-meeting held by half-a-dozen men, -whose one cry was, “Send us a man,” one good brother on one occasion -solemnly adding, “and let him come clothed and in his right mind.” - -And at length he did. - -Every one was surprised that the Rev. George Collinson accepted the -invitation, for there was no doubt that he was a very superior man. He -preached one Sunday, and everybody was so delighted that they gave him a -unanimous invitation that same evening to become their pastor. And he, -without asking for time to consider, took them at their word and -accepted at once. - -Mr. Collinson knew very well what he was doing. He was young and full of -vigour, and desired earnestly the work of a minister. He enjoyed the -idea of occupying a difficult post, and coveted anything rather than -ease or inactivity. He foresaw the chances for work there were in Broad -street, and he was ready and even eager for the fray. The church that -had secured him was no longer to be considered unfortunate. He was a man -with a purpose, and this purpose was to live and work almost entirely -for the young. His few years of ministry had convinced him that this was -the future work of the Church. He had entered the profession with his -heart full of enthusiasm, and already he had been disappointed almost to -despair. But the formation of this Society of Young Crusaders had -reawakened his youthful interest, and now he meant to devote all his -powers to the service of the young, and he began as he meant to go on. -The adult population of Granchester had many preachers, the young should -at least have one. So he told the men of Broad Street who had invited -him, and they at once saw that he was a man of independent spirit, who -formed his own plans, and executed them without consulting others. He -accepted the salary that was offered him; but he had private means, and -was, therefore, not entirely dependent for support upon the church. This -fact, perhaps, at first contributed to his popularity, and it certainly -made it impossible for capricious people to starve him out if they -should ever desire to get rid of him, which he hoped they would not do. -The “welcome home” which he received was a hearty one, and he commenced -his work auspiciously. - -He was a ready speaker, and his sermons were short and practical. “There -is always something to do you good, though,” said the brother who had -prayed that he might come clothed; “and I find it helps you through the -week to have something to think of.” Whether his sermons cost him much -or little effort, no one knew; but there was one part of his work about -which there was no doubt. - -Mr. Collinson told them at the outset that he would live and work for -the young. - -“You begin too late,” he said to those who sought his aid for missions -and refuges, and other efforts to save the adults. “There is no hope for -England excepting in the salvation of her children.” - -“Well, there are the Sunday-schools,” was, of course, the answer, but -this always brought a peculiar smile to the face of the young minister. - -He spent the whole of the afternoon of his first Sunday at Broad Street -in the Sunday-school. The teachers were gratified, and they thanked him -for his presence. - -“Oh, do not thank me,” he said; “the Sunday-school is, of course, a part -of the church. This is, therefore, my school, and I intend to be present -at it every morning and afternoon.” - -Now this was quite a new idea; and the teachers were not sure that they -would like it. It had been a pet grievance with them that their old -minister was never seen in the school, excepting on special occasions -and by personal invitation. They were never tired of speaking about this -at teachers’ meetings, when he was absent, and sometimes even in his -presence. They often hinted, too, at the lack of sympathy manifested by -the church, as if they were not themselves the church, or at least the -most important part of it. They frequently declared that a minister’s -place was in the Sunday-school, and that his duty in this respect was -too often neglected. But all the same, when they were informed that the -minister intended always to be at the school, most of the teachers felt -embarrassed, not a few heads were shaken, and there were many muttered -hopes that he would not interfere. - -But he did, and that very speedily. - -At first he offered to take any class from which the teacher was absent; -and whenever he did so the children were very candid and unceremonious -in their expression of the wish that their teacher would remain absent -always. But the absentee was invariably visited the next day; and if he -had not provided a substitute, or had only a trivial reason to give for -his absence, that teacher was sure to have a bad quarter of an hour with -the minister. - -Then he adopted the plan of giving an address at the close of the -school, and the address was exceedingly like a lesson, for he had a -large blackboard on which he wrote points to be committed to memory; and -he asked many questions, which happened to be mostly addressed to the -classes that knew the least. After this had gone on for a few Sundays he -called a teachers’ meeting, and astonished the teachers by the -directness of his words to them. - -“The most important part of the work of the church,” he said, “is the -Sunday-school, which ought, therefore, to be in the hands of those whose -whole hearts are in it. It is so great, and of such infinite moment, -that it deserves to occupy the men and women of highest culture and -talent; but it is work which is best done by those who love it, for -without enthusiasm in the teachers Sunday-schools are a failure. I hope -you will not be offended—but in any case I dare not hold my peace—when I -say that in all departments of our own schools there are some classes -which greatly need reform. There is a lack of discipline which is fatal; -and I fear that sometimes whole classes are dismissed which have not had -any real teaching at all. Now, my friends, this work must not be left in -incompetent hands. For my own part, I tell you frankly that I dare not -be a party to anything so disastrous to the future well-being of this -church. Let no earnest teacher be discouraged; but let all who are not -in earnest reconsider their position. The first thing for us to do is to -form a Teachers’ Training Class, and let us also meet together for -mutual preparation of the lesson. What times will be most convenient to -you?” - -The teachers, as a whole, did not approve of the minister taking things -into his own hands in this fashion, and some of them ventured to say so. - -“We’ve took this school ourselves heretofore, and we’re masters here,” -said a man, his face flushing with anger. “If the minister likes to come -and visit us sometimes, and say an encouraging word to us, why, we shall -be glad to see him; but I, for one, ain’t agoing to be dictated to.” - -Mr. Collinson made no reply to this, and another spoke. - -“It is all very well to talk about training and preparation classes, but -few of us have time to attend them, for what with our two week-night -services, and all the things going on in the town, it is not easy to -take up two new subjects. I think we do enough if we come to school -Sunday after Sunday and take a class, for the children are so bad that -it is dreadfully hard work to do that.” - -But the new minister had his own way. - -“It is my school as well as yours,” he said. “I am at the head of it, -and while I wish to dwell in harmony with you all, yet, as I place a -higher estimate on Sunday-school work than any other, I am extremely -anxious that only teachers whose hearts are devoted shall attempt to -perform it. We must raise the whole character of this school; who will -stand by me in my endeavour to do this?” - -“I will,” said a voice; and every one looked in amazement at the -speaker, whose name was Stapleton. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - A TRICOLOUR CRUSADER. - - -Ernest Stapleton blushed when Mr. Collinson looked at him, and all the -teachers of the Broad Street School followed the minister’s example. For -he was only a boy, not yet seventeen years old, and he was not even an -acknowledged teacher, since he only helped with the library, and -occasionally took a class for its absent president. He had been -attracted to Broad Street by Mr. Collinson himself, who was already -known in Granchester as “The Friend of all the Boys.” When they looked -at Ernest this is what they saw: A straight boy, rather tall, with -well-developed limbs, and a strong face, whose brown hair curled over a -thoughtful brow, and whose grey eyes met the gaze of the teachers with -frankness and fearlessness. - -“How that boy is changed!” was the thought in the minds of several -persons who had known him all his life. And, indeed, he was; and the -secret of the change was declared to all by the little badge of ribbon -which he wore on his breast—the red, white and blue of Old England; the -blue for temperance, the white for purity, and the red for battle, or -endeavour. - -The very first thing which the Rev. George Collinson had done on his -settlement was to establish a branch of The Young Volunteer Crusaders. -It can scarcely be said that Ernest Stapleton was a volunteer, for he -had cost Mr. Collinson some trouble and solicitude before he was finally -enrolled; but the new minister had loved the boy, and prayed for him and -sought him with wisdom and patience, until at length he was won -altogether and entirely. The effort had been made only just in time. The -boy had been fast sinking into bad habits that would have weakened and -debased him; already his sisters used his name in irony, and declared -that “Ernest had not a bit of earnestness in him,” for he cared for -nothing but smoking and drinking, and other discreditable -self-indulgences; but now, happily, he was saved, and was showing brave -qualities of alertness, endurance, and good sense, such as delighted -every one who cared for him, and won from his friends the declaration -that “No boy had in him the making of a finer man than Ernest -Stapleton.” - -Mr. Collinson looked at him admiringly when his “I will” rang out in the -teachers’ meeting. - -“Yes, Ernest,” he replied, “I am glad to believe that you will, indeed, -stand by me, and help to raise the character of this school.” - -“But, sir, I am not a teacher,” he said, “I am only a boy, and I am -almost afraid to speak before those who are so much older and wiser than -I am; and yet, because I am young, and can look at all this from the -children’s standpoint, I should like, if I may, to express the hope that -all the teachers will agree with you, and have the training and the -preparation classes, and anything else that will make the Sunday-school -more helpful. You do not know how hard it is for boys and girls to be -right. Some fellows that I know, who belong to the Crusaders, had a -prayer meeting last night, and we all prayed to God to give us courage -not to pretend to be worse than we are. We are bad enough, I know -that——” - -The young speaker hesitated, and broke down, and the most prejudiced old -teacher in the room felt some sympathy for him. - -“Go on, Ernest,” said the minister gently, and the rest cheered the boy -with an encouraging clap. Presently he recovered himself. “We are not -good; we need a Saviour; but many of us would scorn to be as bad as we -make ourselves out to be, and there are some of the ‘boys’ ways’ which -those who teach us ought to know something about. But boys—the boys of -Broad street—will be as bad and black as—because it is supposed to be -the thing—some of them make themselves out to be—unless they are helped; -and what I want to say—and I hope you will not think me too -presumptuous—is this, that the old Sunday-school, as it is now carried -on, is not equal to the needs of new boys in these new times.” - -“Well, to be sure! What next!” exclaimed a lady teacher; and one or two -men felt as if a good horsewhipping would do the young upstart good; but -for the most part the teachers knew that Ernest had spoken the truth, -and though his words had given them pain, yet they were glad that he had -uttered them, and hopeful that the result would prove beneficial. - -“I, too, will stand by Mr. Collinson,” said the superintendent, “and by -right of the office with which you have invested me, I venture to repeat -Gideon’s words to his army, ‘Whosoever is fearful and afraid let him -return and depart.’ It is quite true that the usual Sunday-school, -though it has done splendid work in the past, is quite inadequate to the -needs of the children to-day, and if we are not willing to do anything -and everything to bring ourselves up to date, we had better stand aside -and yield the work to those who will.” - -The scene which followed could not be other than painful. One after -another of the teachers resigned; and the resignation of a few was -accepted, while the discriminating superintendent advised some to try -the new plans before they quite gave up. - -It was with an anxious heart that Ernest Stapleton went home after the -meeting. He was not at all sure that he had not been wrong, and the -author of much mischief; although with the usual confidence of youth he -had great faith in his own opinions. Still, he thought that Mr. -Collinson had approved of him, and if so, there was not much to fear, -for though he doubted himself a little, he doubted the minister not at -all; so his courage rose as he passed through the gates of his father’s -residence. - -He ran up the steps, whistling as he went; but on the top one he sighed, -and a fear which he had known before came back to him. He was afraid -that there was something wrong in his home. His father looked dreadfully -worried, and although he knew that among his men another strike was -impending, yet even that was not sufficient, he thought, to quite -account for so much anxiety. And his mother—his beautiful mother, whom -he loved so dearly—looked sometimes pale, and as if she had been crying. -Ernest wondered what it all meant, and feared that trouble was -impending. - -When he stepped into the hall he heard his uncle’s voice, and that, too, -he thought a little strange. Dr. Stapleton had visited them very rarely -until quite lately, but now it was no unusual thing for him to be there -once or twice in a week. - -The Doctor came forward to greet him. He was looking wretchedly ill and -worn, but he had always a cheery word for his nephew, whom he cordially -approved. - -“Well, Ernest, old boy, how are you? How are the Crusaders going on? Is -there much fighting at present?” - -“Plenty of fighting, uncle, though we do not have a big gun to accompany -us. How are you? Have you come to stay a few weeks, or will you run away -directly, as you generally do?” - -“I think my patients consider that I usually stay quite long enough. I -must try to get back by to-morrow evening. How many boys do you number -now in your regiment? Three hundred? That is splendid. I hope they will -all be faithful.” - -“Certainly something has improved the boys of Granchester,” said Miss -Stapleton. “They are not nearly as rude and coarse as they were. Mother -and I were remarking it the last time we went through the streets. -Although it was evening we did not hear a single boy swear. And that is -a thing that ought to be written in red ink among the chronicles of -Granchester. - -“You see, Mat, that these fellows are all capable of being taught and -persuaded, only the wrong teachers get hold of them. The best lessons -are not to be got in the streets; but it is in the streets that most -boys get their lessons. They are a little mistaken as to what manliness -is; but that is not their fault. How should they know if they are not -taught? They judge by the men whom they see. They seldom have the best -types exhibited to them.” - -“They know something of their fathers’ masters, I suppose?” - -“Yes; but all their fathers’ masters are not like our father. Many of -them do not treat their men properly.” - -“You see, Uncle Fred, what Ernest’s tendencies are! He is a Socialist. -And he is a poet of the people! Think of it! Ernest, you will let Uncle -Fred see your last attempt. Here it is, uncle. I made him give me a -copy.” - -Dr. Stapleton took the paper, and read— - - “THE LOWER ORDERS.” - - Who are the “lower orders,” - Not those who toil all day, - And for fair wages give good work, - As honest workmen may. - Such men are of the noblest - Who life’s rough paths have trod; - Faithful to wife, and kind to child, - And true to self and God. - - These are the higher orders, - The self-restrained and strong, - Too great to yield to selfishness, - Too proud to do the wrong; - Who copy Christ of Nazareth, - And live and toil as He, - And claim their right as freemen, - Since He has made them free. - - Men talk about “the masses,” - And call them “lowly born,” - But many are more worthy - Of reverence than of scorn. - Ah! some of wealth and place might learn - Of these heroic ones; - And well for dear old England - Were such her only sons! - - But of “the lower orders,” - Enough and hosts to spare - Has England for her sorrow, - And have we all for care. - The idle and the dissolute, - The cowardly and base; - Alas! for countries and for homes - That have to give them space! - - They are “the lower orders,” - Who practise low deceit; - The drones in hives of industry, - The loungers in the street, - The self-indulgent sons of vice, - The sullen and untrue, - Whose useless hands are stretched to take, - But are not skilled to do. - - There are no lower orders - But these—the self-made low. - Men are despised and scorned because - They choose to have it so. - Unworthiness, not poverty, - Alone supplies the ban - Which keeps the hand of fellowship - Of man from brother man, - - Cannot we lift the low ones - Up to a fairer height? - O! Love shall be the teacher, - And God will speed the right. - Let us go down in loving quest - These lowest ones to reach; - God’s heaven has room enough for all, - And His grace is for each. - -Dr. Stapleton said very little after reading the verses; he simply -congratulated his nephew, and advised him to continue doing that sort of -work; but when, after supper, the household had retired, and the two -brothers were consulting together in the library, the Doctor spoke of -the boy to his father. - -“It is a fine thing to have such a son,” he said; “he will be a help and -comfort to you, Felix.” - -“Perhaps,” was the reply; “but I am afraid of the boy’s judgment. When -he comes to know the truth about my circumstances I am afraid he will -turn against me. He has strict notions of honour and truth, and I am -glad that he should have. But what will he think of me?” - -“When are you going to tell him?” - -“I cannot tell him at all—and yet he must know soon.” - -“If I were you, Felix, I would take him into confidence at once. He is a -good boy and sensible, and his counsel may be as worth having and -following as that of any man of the world.” - -“But he believes himself the heir to a fortune. It will be a terrible -disappointment and come down for him.” - -“Oh, no! I think not. The young do not care for money as the old do. And -it is too bad to deceive him longer. Let us tell him the truth in the -morning. Who knows but that he may be able to throw a little light upon -the darkness?” - -“Will you help me to break the news to him before you leave?” - -“Yes, I will, and I cannot help hoping that good rather than harm will -come of it.” - -Ernest slept soundly, as a healthy boy should, whose conscience is at -peace, and he awoke the next morning in a most merry mood. He opened the -letter-bag, and made his sister chase him for a letter addressed to -herself, and then he tossed his youngest sister into the air and caught -her like a ball, after which he took her for a ride on his bicycle, -until she screamed with delight. - -He remembered all this years afterward; for it always seemed to him that -this was the morning when he suddenly grew out of boyhood into youth. - -When breakfast was finished his father sent for him into the library; -and as the boy entered the room, he knew that he was going to learn -something about the shadow which had so long hung above his home. - -“Ernest, my lad,” said Dr. Stapleton, gently, “your father has some bad -news for you, which it is harder for him to tell than for you to hear, -though it will trouble you greatly. You are young, but you are the -oldest son he has, and he has a right to look to you for sympathy and -help. You will not fail him, I know.” - -The boy looked pale—it was such a solemn address for his uncle to -make—but he left his seat, and went to his father’s side and stood with -his hand on his shoulder. - -“What is it, father?” he said. “Please tell me quickly. I have known for -some time that there was a trouble, though I cannot imagine what it is.” - -“Do you find your pocket-money enough for your needs, Ernest?” Mr. -Stapleton’s voice trembled a little, but he tried to speak as cheerfully -as he could. The boy looked surprised at the question. - -“It is now, father,” he said, “because I am more careful than I used to -be. Why? Has any one spoken to you about me? Indeed, father, I assure -you that I have no debts now.” - -“No, my son, it is I who have the debts. I am sorry to tell you that I -have had heavy losses, and that my riches have taken to themselves wings -and flown away.” - -“You mean that you are not as well off as you used to be, father? I have -guessed that lately. But there might be worse troubles than that, don’t -you think so?” - -“Yes, my son, and there are. I cannot pay my debts.” - -“Then let us part with some of the things we have. I will sell my pony -and my bicycle, and anything else that I have. We can sell this house -and our carriages, and go into a small place in the country, for, of -course, we must not live on other people’s property. If we cannot pay -for things, they do not belong to us, and we have no right to them.” - -“But, Ernest, think of your poor mother.” - -“It is of my beautiful mother that I am thinking all the time. Father, -we could not let any disgrace touch her, could we? There is no disgrace -in being poor, unless we pretend to be rich. You were rich once, so you -had a right to seem so; but now if the riches are gone, we shall be just -as happy. Do not doubt us, father; mother, Mat and I will not add to -your trouble. Be sure of that. Don’t become a bankrupt, father. Sell -everything, and let the money go as far as it will, and then after a -time we will pay the rest.” - -It was all easy and natural and simple to the boy; and Mr. Stapleton was -half convinced as he listened to him. “Perhaps it will be best,” he -said; “indeed, it is the more honourable way, but for the disgrace of -it.” - -Ernest opened his eyes widely. “Disgrace!” he cried. “There is no -disgrace if we pay people.” - -“Ah, Ernest,” said Dr. Stapleton, “you do not know what temptations -there are in such a crisis as this. I will tell you what happened to me -soon after I knew of your father’s troubles. Naturally, I would give all -that I have and more to save my brother. One night, when I was wondering -how I could get money, a man came to me and offered me a thousand pounds -as a fee for doing something which both he and I knew to be wrong. I -hesitated; for I have always endeavoured to act honourably in my -profession; but I thought of the use that thousand pounds would be in -our present difficulty to your father, and seeing me waver, he placed -the cheque on my table, and left me.” - -“Oh, Uncle Fred, I am so sorry; and I am sure father would not wish you -to do wrong for him, would you, father?” - -“No, Ernest, not when I am in my right mind, but a drowning man will -catch at any straw, and I don’t know what I might have said if your -uncle had asked me just then. But that was before Mr. Knight’s visit. I -do thank God for that man’s faithful talk to me.” - -“I thank God for him also,” said the Doctor. “I kept that cheque for -about thirty hours, Ernest, and then, I am glad to say, I sent it back. -Had I not have done so I never could have looked Arthur Knight in the -face again, and what would have been worse, my nephew would not have -respected me more.” - -“But you never could have done it, Uncle Fred, if it was really wrong,” -said Ernest. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - A HAPPY EXODUS. - - -“Mother, are you really sure that you can forgive me? It is so good to -have a mother, that I feel as if I can never be grateful enough.” - -“You are fully and freely forgiven, Mary. I have always known that my -child’s heart is right—it is her head that is wrong.” - -Mary Wythburn had found her parents, thanks to Arthur Knight’s -assistance, and she was supremely happy. It was wonderful that they had -not met before; but there is no place where it is so possible to lose -one’s self as London, and they had been within a few miles of each other -without once coming into contact. Mary had learnt many salutary lessons -during her voluntary absence from her parents. She felt herself more -than a year older, though less than that time had elapsed since she -disappeared from her home on the day fixed for her marriage. That the -marriage had not become an accomplished fact she never regretted; but -she would ever feel sorrow and humiliation as she thought of her own -cowardice in not facing the situation earlier. But that was all over -now, and the new life, with all its vivid interests, was that which of -all others she would have chosen. - -“Mr. Knight will not let me go with his people unless you give your -consent,” she said; “and, indeed, I could not myself go without it, for -I have never been really happy, knowing that I must be causing you pain -and anxiety.” - -“You never ought to have set yourself up as a teacher of others when you -were so failing in your own duty,” her father said; but it was the only -stern sentence that fell from his lips. “You shall go with these -people,” he added; “and if Mr. Knight will let us come too and help, as -far as we are able, in the good work, we will be very glad.” - -So Mary, who wept first for home and sorrow, afterward cried for joy, -and when the party of English folk went away to settle in one of the -loveliest parts of the north of mid-Wales, the Wythburns all accompanied -them. - -Arthur Knight had found the very place he wanted—a large space of -moorland and waste miles of land unoccupied, excepting for a few -farmhouses. The land was not in a very high state of cultivation; but -when, for the first time, he stood and gazed upon it, his imagination -covered it, as it was to-day, with bright and pleasant homes and long -bits of garden-land, in which the people might learn the joy of growing -their own flowers and vegetables. The place chosen was at the head of a -glen, which led down to Afon Wen, a small village on the shore. The -place itself—five miles from Afon Wen—was called Craighelbyl. There was -a large old house on the top of the hill standing in its own grounds, -which wore a very neglected and dejected appearance. It had been left to -itself for nearly a hundred years, and all sorts of interesting and -dreadful tales were told about it. It had belonged to “one of the great -families” years and years ago, and the old sailors could spin as good a -yarn about it as of the sea itself. The owner of the Hall had kept a -smuggling cellar on the coast; and it was said that a long underground -passage led from the Hall to the sea. This man had been an irreligious -Englishman, who had married a Welsh lady and treated her badly; and -there were dark stories of a crime once committed in the house, which -had in consequence stood tenantless for a long period. There were not -many things left in it; there was a little furniture, but it had -disappeared, nobody knew how; and if there did happen to be a table or a -chair in some of the cottages thereabouts which looked as if it did not -quite belong to the cottages, nobody knew how it came to be there, -certainly nobody belonging to this generation. The last person who had -occupied the house was a farmer, but he and his wife had died there. -Another farmer thought of taking it, but there was no land to be farmed, -little but moors and rocks and sea, and this man only spent a week -there, and it was such a stormy week as only this part of our country -knows. So he soon had enough of it, and he declared that the rooms were -so dismal that all the wealth of the Indies would not be payment enough -for him to stay. So, as there was no one to tempt him by offering him -such wealth, he left, and since then it had been empty. Some stone had -been taken away from the place and used to make walls; and, indeed, -sometimes they had talked of pulling the house down altogether, for the -sake of the materials. - -It was a happy thing for Arthur Knight and his people that this had not -been done, for of all his purchases this old house, perhaps, pleased him -the best. The ancient mansion was to be put to highest uses, and every -room in it was to echo with the joyous voices of the young people who -were learning to be good citizens, and Christian men and women. For -educational and social purposes no better place could have been -discovered. It was itself a lesson in Welsh history; and Mr. Knight had -expended a large sum of money in providing it with a good library, -pictures, and a museum, in keeping with its traditions. Round about this -house the new village had been planted. - -Mr. Knight hoped that there would be good fellowship between his English -and the Welsh, to the ultimate advantage of both. He could not tell what -the natives of Craighelbyl said about him and his people, because he did -not understand Welsh; but he found them quite willing to work for him, -and it was very much through them, and because any number of labourers -could be secured to unite in friendly rivalry with Englishmen, that the -township rose so rapidly to completion. It was fortunate for him that -the building trade was bad generally, and he had, therefore, no -difficulty in securing a colony of builders. - -One evening some young Welshmen were talking over the affairs of the -nation. “We are on the eve of a change,” said one, “when every man will -have what is right and true. It is coming.” - -“And soon—forthwith, as you may say. At least, that is my creed.” - -“Well, we are going to have a change anyhow, for Mr. Knight will bring -his people down to the top of the hill next Thursday.” - -“Thursday, is it? They have soon got the place ready. Shall you take his -offer?” - -“And move up there to work? Yes, I think I shall.” - -“I shall stay here. Three of us are going shares in a boat or two. It is -certain that the folk on Saturday half-holidays and so on will come down -here and want some rows on the sea, and we shall make a very good thing -of it.” - -The distance from the “large house” to the shore was four miles. The -hamlet by the sea had only about a dozen houses, and at first Mr. Knight -was half inclined to buy them all up, but even a millionaire has to be -careful in regard to his expenditure when he attempts such things as -Arthur Knight had done, so he left the place alone. The few inhabitants -were prepared to give the strangers on the hill top a kind welcome, -though, with true Welsh prudence, they would not commit themselves to -anything until time had been given to judge the Londoners and see of -what stuff they were made. - -Mr. Knight chartered a special train for the use of his people, and -there was a great crowd at Euston Station to see them off. The poor have -many friends, and there were some pathetic leave-takings among them. -Wales was “them furren parts” to those who, most of them, had never been -five miles away from London. The journey was a great event in their -lives, but a pleasant one, too; and this new emigration had much of the -novelty and excitement of expectation, with very little of the pain of -an emigration of the ordinary kind. - -When they had travelled rather more than half way the train stopped at a -small station, and the people were told to alight. - -“The master has thought of everything. At this place is a substantial -meal of sandwiches, bread and butter, and tea and coffee, all at his -expense,” they were told. - -The born leader of men knew how wearisome the journey might appear to -some of the women and children to whom the experience was the most -novel, and that when their heads and backs ached, and they got hungry, -their courage would begin to ooze away, and they would be half afraid of -the new life and regretful of the old; but this break in the journey -would cheer and refresh them all, and help them to complete the -remaining miles in better condition and spirits. It was but a little -thing, perhaps, but it was worth thinking of, and it was like Arthur -Knight to have arranged it. - -He himself met them at the station, with two or three friends who were -already domiciled, and who had each his special part to perform in the -new village. First, there was the Rev. James Davies, the minister of the -church, who was entering upon his work with as much enthusiasm as Arthur -Knight himself; who would be the friend and brother as well as the -preacher, and who deeply felt the solemnity of his position, for to him -the care of the souls of these people had been given. Next, there was -Dr. Armitt, whose duty it would be to keep the community in health, as -far as in him lay, who was to administer advice and medicine without -charge, and who was to perform the duties of a sanitary inspector, with -the right to prevent everything likely to affect the health of the -community. There was another important person, Mr. Freeman, the manager -of the trade department, at whose handsome store-rooms the people could -purchase all necessities of food and clothing, and whose business was to -be regulated on co-operative principles. Besides these there were a few -men and women helpers who had prepared the homes. By the help of Mr. and -Mrs. Hancourt, the Basket Woman, and Fanny Burton, the head of each -family had a card with the name or number of his house, for they had -been located beforehand so as to prevent confusion on their arrival. It -was evening when they arrived, and Mr. Knight had a fire burning and a -table spread in every house to give it a home-like appearance; and, full -of happy expectations, he awaited the result. - -Nor was he disappointed. When the train steamed in, and the people -sprang out of the carriages and looked around on the scene of beauty -before them, the pretty houses in the little town, the fair sunset light -on the hills, and the kind look upon the face of their master, they -raised a ringing cheer, and the boys began to sing “For he’s a jolly -good fellow” as boys only can sing. - -They were soon streaming down, and up toward their homes, each party -following their guide, and each naturally somewhat curious. Very soon -there were exclamations of delight and satisfaction—“Well, I never!” -“Did you ever!” “Ain’t it grand!” “We sha’n’t know ourselves here in -these fine places.” - -The men, a little incredulous, and half afraid that “things were not -what they seemed,” but that, somehow or other, Mr. Knight meant “having” -them over it, were sober in their praises and cautious in their joy. And -so were some of the women, though most of them were in raptures. - -“Now rub your shoes,” cried one mother to her children. “Don’t you know -what a mat is for?” - -Another turned to her husband with quivering lips (which he kissed) and -said, “Jim, here’s a chance for us; we’ve never had one before;” and Jim -replied, “Please God, we’ll make the best of it, old woman.” - -“Here’s a lovely home, father; scrumptious, isn’t it? And tea ready for -us! Why, here’s a loaf and everything we want to begin on. Isn’t it a -splendid kitchen?” - -“Mother, here’s a bath. Well, I never! I thought only gentlefolks’ -houses had baths in ’em. The poor wasn’t supposed to get dirty.” - -“Ain’t Mr. Knight a brick?” - -“He is the brickiest brick in the world.” - -“I’ll have a bath this very night. I wouldn’t go into that lovely bed -without being clean.” - -“And look at the cupboards and the nails.” - -“And, oh, what a lovely cooking-stove! If ever a man deserved to be sent -straight to heaven the master does!” Mr. Knight happened to hear this -last remark and was much amused by it. - -“But I don’t want to be sent to heaven yet,” he said. “I want to see how -you get on in your new homes, and to take care that you are able to earn -something to put in the lovely stove.” - -“Law, yes, sir. I hopes you’ll live to be a ’undered, and so we does -all; but we’ve all got to die sometime, you know, and you wouldn’t -object to heaven at last, I suppose.” - -There were two days for the people to enjoy before work commenced on -Monday; and the men and women had time to visit each other, and offer -congratulations, especially in regard to the new factories in which they -were to work. There was no heart of them all so full of joy and -gratitude as that of Arthur Knight; but when Sunday morning dawned over -the little place, he felt, as never before, the great responsibility -which rested upon him. That which he had been able to do for his people -had been done for humanity’s sake; but behind that motive was another -and a stronger one; and he knew, if no one else did, that it was all -_for Christ’s sake_. He was extremely anxious now that the people should -come to understand that, and should give the credit of all that was good -in his scheme, where it was due, to the Christianity which some of them -despised, and only a few rightly apprehended. - -They had been happily busy about their homes and in their gardens, and -had visited their future work-places with a good deal of interest and -curiosity, and they had swarmed into the Old House, and examined their -treasures there with the greatest delight; but the church had not yet -been open, excepting to a very few. It stood on the side of the hill, a -conspicuous and beautiful object, bearing its name on its front in -letters which might be read at a distance— - - “OUR FATHER’S HOUSE,” - -and the people knew that on the Sunday morning it was to be consecrated. -Word had also been sent to every house that Mr. Knight asked, as a great -favour to himself, that all the people—men, women, and children—would, -for that one morning, at least, go to church. Many of them wished he had -not; there was the inevitable question of clothes still to be -considered, and the men especially declared that they had not the least -idea “how to go on”; but good influences were brought to bear upon them, -Hancourt and his wife especially putting it to them whether it was not -worth while to endure even a little awkwardness rather than treat Mr. -Knight with ingratitude and unkindness, and so, at length, consent was -won all round. - -It was an ideal morning. The sun lighted up the blue sea in the -distance, and rested lovingly on sloping hills and green fields. A fresh -breeze blew across the space, and fanned the faces of the people as they -stood in little groups, each in their own doorway and garden. The men -and women were so proud of their new possessions, and so glad in the new -possibilities of their lives, that a touching tenderness, seldom seen -among them, was everywhere visible. Women stood with their hands on the -shoulders of their husbands and a strange light in their eyes, and men, -usually so rough that the children crept out of their way, looked so -kind because they were so happy, that the boys challenged them to a game -and the girls lifted up their faces to be kissed. - -And then the air was filled with exquisite music, for up the hills and -through the valley came the sounds of the Sabbath bells. They had not -rung before, and they came with a surprise to the people, who for a few -minutes hushed their voices and listened in quiet pleasure. And then, -for a little while, the homes were filled with the bustle of -preparation, and soon the green hill was dotted with ascending figures -of “young men and maidens, old men and children,” on their way to -“praise the name of the Lord, whose name alone is excellent.” - -One of the last to go was Fanny Burton, who had lingered in case any -laggards among the people needed shepherding. She found several, and -took them to church with her. “I will wait for you,” she said; “we must -not disappoint Mr. Knight to-day. It is his birthday—don’t you know?—and -such a little thing as he asks in return for all the great things he has -done for us, we couldn’t be so base as to deny him, not if we tried ever -so.” - -And all the people found a home in the Father’s House. The best places, -if there were any best, were allotted to those who had come in their -working attire, because they had no other. The children were not put -away in the gallery by themselves, but sat with their parents. The -church was light and bright and comfortable; the colours were -harmonious, and the arrangements simple and artistic. - -A great hush fell upon the congregation, and then the organ sounded -softly, and the choir began to sing the first public words heard in the -new sanctuary, “I will arise and go to my Father.” Next they knelt, and -repeated together the prayer which Christ taught His disciples; and lips -quivered and hearts throbbed as the old words, “Thy kingdom come, Thy -will be done on earth as it is in Heaven,” seemed to take new meanings. -Then the grand _Te Deum_ rang exultingly through the building, and -linked it to the sacred edifices of all the centuries, and the minister -offered a short dedicatory prayer:—“Let the glory of the Lord fill the -house of God. Let Thine eyes be open and Thine ears attend unto the -prayer that is made in this place. Choose and sanctify this house that -Thy name may be here for ever, and Thine eyes and Thy heart be here -perpetually. Here may Thy wandering children come home to Thee, their -Father; and here may they learn to love and to keep Thy statutes and Thy -commandments. And here may Thy Son, Jesus Christ our Saviour, see of the -travail of His soul and be satisfied, because through Him Thy children -turn to Thee and are reconciled. Here let the little ones call His name -blessed. Here may the old men find rest and peace in Him. And here may -men and women come to have all that is good in them strengthened, and -all that is evil cast out. From this place let us all go forth to do our -work and live our lives in the way that is pleasing in Thy sight. And so -let this our Father’s House be the dear home of all this people.” - -The service throughout was bright and attractive and conducted with -great reverence. The organ was a good one, and the hymns were sung to -well-known tunes. The sermon was short and very practical, and the -children were not forgotten. There was no inattention, no weariness -anywhere; and Mr. Davies was resolved that there never should be. He had -his chance now, for all the people were there, and he meant them all to -come again, not because Mr. Knight wished it, but because they chose to -come. The minister was not one to talk about himself, and therefore no -one knew how he had agonised in prayer to God for some souls to be given -him on that day, spending a whole night in prayer asking for Divine -light and guidance, so that this great opportunity might be used to its -fullest extent. It was a rousing little sermon, which called forth a -feeling of gratitude among the people. At its close there was silence -for a few minutes, in order that souls might be offered in secret to the -Lord, whose presence in His sanctuary so many people felt. - -And then Arthur Knight stepped upon the platform, and gazed upon the -faces, eager with interest, and beautiful with feeling, of these people -who belonged to him, and for whose welfare he was passionately -solicitous. - -“My friends,” he said, and there was a tremor in his voice which -instantly awoke a response, “I thank you for giving me the joy of -welcoming you one and all to our Father’s House, a building which by -prayer we have this day consecrated to our highest welfare, and one -which will be open every day, so that any of you may at any time come in -for quiet and rest, in which you may make known to Him your wants. I am -not afraid of desecrating either the church or the day, though I speak -to you on some subjects which, perhaps, hitherto we have not considered -religious; but I know it will not be easy to get you all together again, -and I cannot let slip the chance which has been given me. Mr. Davies -uttered a sentence which, if I had to preach a sermon, I would almost -take as my text—‘Every social reform that starts at Calvary will be -successful.’ I hope his words are true, though, indeed, I am sure of it, -for that is where this started. Several years ago, in a foreign land -where I knew no one but the two friends with whom I travelled, one was -taken ill. He knew that he had to die, and he was afraid, for death -opened his eyes, and he saw a Beyond, a Hereafter, of which he had been -sceptical before. Neither of us knew anything of religion, but we had -all heard of Jesus, and I remembered His death on Calvary, and the story -of His resurrection. So I prayed to Him, and asked Him, if He were -really living and able to save, to save my friend, and make it easy for -him to die. And we remembered some words of His: ‘Him that cometh unto -Me I will in no wise cast out’; and my friend asked Him to take him, and -to give him some assurance of His pardon and peace. And a most wonderful -change then came over the dying man; I think that his eyes saw the King -in His beauty, for his face grew radiant, and his voice triumphant, and -he said several times, ‘_He loved me, and gave Himself for me_,’ and he -told us that he was glad to depart and be with Christ, and so he died. I -think you will not be surprised to hear that I have never been the same -since. The Lord Jesus Christ has been a great deal more to me than a -person in history, or a great reformer, or anything of that kind; He has -been to me a living personal Saviour and Friend. I started from Calvary, -and because He had died there for my sins, I felt that I must give my -whole life to pleasing Him; so I studied the New Testament, which is the -revelation of Him; and I soon saw that the most acceptable thanks I -could offer Him would be to imitate Him as far as I could. You know how, -soon after my return home, my father died, and his business came into my -hands, and with it you, my people. And my prayer became one you have all -heard before, ‘Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?’ I think that by -degrees He has shown me. Because you were my own people I wanted you to -be good and happy. I could not bear to live in my own large house with -every luxury, and think of you, in miserable courts, cramped for space, -and denied most of the things which I liked. I was grieved, but not at -all surprised to find that many of you had left off caring about doing -the right; that men and women drank beer and gin to make them forget for -awhile their woes and wrongs; and that only those chiefly who knew the -love of God, or who were gifted with great strength of character, had -power to resist the demoralising influences that were around you. I soon -began to see that my duty was to make things better for you, and I have -tried to do it in the way that seemed to me the best. Many of you have -not had a chance, but you have one now, to make your life a different -thing altogether. The future is in your own hands; for me I can do no -more. I was a rich man, but I am a poor man now. If this venture is to -be made a success, it is you, not I, who must do it. If you choose to be -idle, and careless of the interests of the firm, we shall all be ruined -together. To-morrow you will begin work. You know all that I can tell -you of the great competition in the markets of the world, and how -articles that are badly made or expensive will be returned on our hands. -At my father’s dying request I have made a change in our productions, -and henceforth Knight’s goods are to be of the first class only. I am -told that I shall end my days in the workhouse. I am not afraid of it, -because I trust you. And this I declare, on this Sabbath morning, in -God’s house—you shall have a rightful share in all the profits that -accrue from your labour. Your houses can be in time bought by you, and -so can the business itself; and very glad shall I be if, on honourable -and just terms, we are able eventually to turn it into a co-operative -concern. There are two matters in regard to you respecting which I am -most anxious—one is work, and the other is character, the latter being -by far the more important. There are certain things in regard to the -manifestations of character which are in my power, and this power I -shall exert to the utmost. I will not have swearing, or drinking, or -gambling, or immorality carried on in any building or space that belongs -to me. This is a law, and the breaking of the law will be followed by -instant dismissal. Of that I am determined. But I pray you help me in -this, by voluntarily giving up habits which you know to be wrong. And if -you cannot hate sin, ask my Helper to help you; for Christ knows what -temptations are, and it is He only who can cleanse us at the source of -all our actions, the heart and the will. We have no police; you must be -your own policemen. I trust to the public opinion of our little -community, and to the efforts of all good men among you, to keep the -peace. At present—and I hope we shall remain so—we are simply a private -family, with whom no one outside has a right to interfere; and the -affairs of the village will be managed by a board chosen by you all. - -“No provision has been made here for three institutions, which we all -admit to be good where they are necessary; but which, I hope, will not -be necessary in our own village of Craighelbyl—they are the poor-house, -the hospital, and the Sunday-school. There is no poor-house, because we -do not mean to have any poor. There is to be a compulsory system of -insurance, by which an income for the sick and the aged will be -provided, and which will be supplemented by a scale of pensions to be -paid out of the profits of the business. I want every one to enjoy the -blessings of independence. In regard to the hospital, that is a splendid -thing for people who have not comfortable homes. But when we are sick it -would surely be better for us to remain with those who care for us -rather than be taken away among strangers. Dr. Armitt and Miss Wythburn -will be glad to train some of you young women who wish to be nurses, so -that to any home where sickness should unfortunately come a nurse can -come also if she be needed, and bring with her the requisites for a sick -room. Of course, if a fever should break out, other arrangements would -have to be made; but we will not anticipate this. An ambulance-class -will be at once formed, and one of the rooms of the gymnasium is to be -set apart for its use. - -“What I have next to say to you will, I am sure, surprise you. Our -day-schools are to be as excellent as they can possibly be made; but at -present there is no Sunday-school, though that is not exactly what I -mean, for I hope there will be quite a universal Sunday-school, but -there is as yet no special building set apart for it. If you desire a -Sunday-school on the old lines I will not oppose it. How can I when I -know how much of that which is best in England is the outcome of the -Sunday-school system? And our day-school buildings will be the best that -could be imagined for the purposes of the Sunday-school, if such an -institution should be required. But if I were a father I would trust the -religious teachings of my children to no one but myself. The home is the -true Sunday-school; mothers and fathers are the best teachers; it is in -the family that the children should learn that which is most important -for them to know. And I hope there will be little gatherings of -neighbours this afternoon, in which the right sort of schools will be -inaugurated. At the same time I am glad to give notice that in our -church there will be, every Sunday afternoon, a young people’s service, -to which all over thirteen are invited. - -“In regard to the church itself, will you bear with me while I say a few -words? Those of you who are Christians—and I am most thankful that you -are so many—represent, no doubt, every denomination of the one great -Universal Church. Divided upon some points though we are, we know that -there is for us all but one Saviour, that one God is our Father, and our -great hope is that at the last we shall live together as one family in -one heaven. It is surely possible, therefore, for us to worship together -in one building now. As you know, there is but one building provided in -Craighelbyl, and I hope that we shall never furnish material for a -division among Christians in this place. I am myself a Nonconformist, as -my father was before me. At the same time, I honour and revere the -Church of England. Ours is, of course, a Free Church. Personally, I -should like the beautiful Litany to be used here, and much of the -ordinary service; but this I leave to be decided by the majority of -members of the church. I hope that you all—Churchmen, Wesleyans, -Congregationalists, Baptists, Methodists, or whatever you are—will -resolve, for the credit of our common Christianity, to keep the peace -among yourselves, and that you will worship and work together for the -kingdom of God. The time has surely come for the establishment of one -great united Church, the members of which are resolved, if not to end -all strife and competition among themselves—which God grant!—at least, -to suspend all differences, and beneath the flag of truce to labour for -the suppression of the evil and misery of the world. My dear friends, I -congratulate you and myself on the fact that we are leading the way, and -that the multitudes of Christ’s disciples will surely follow. We are -doing what we can, but we need help and guidance lest we spoil our -endeavour by mistakes and failures. This is a day of great joy and -thankfulness; let us make it also a day of great prayer, that the spirit -of wisdom and understanding may be given to us. And may God bless us, -and make us blessings to each other. Amen.” - -“Amen!” heartily responded the people. - -There was a sedateness upon the faces of the people as they filed out of -the Church; but hope and resoluteness were visible there also. Many of -them were beginning a new life, indeed; and some remained behind to -pray; and others went to their homes with such joyful hearts that God -must have heard their song, if no one else did. - -As soon as Arthur Knight reached the road, a young man, who took off his -hat and stood bareheaded, addressed him. - -“You have forgotten me, sir, no doubt; but my name is Jones. It was I -who threw the stone at you on the first Sunday after your return to -England.” - -“Yes; I remember you. I am glad to find you are here.” - -“Sir, I want to give my life to you. I suppose you are not going to -settle down with us here, because you have your great work in the world -to do. We do not like you to go out as you do, alone. Oh, we know that -God will take care of you, and no harm will come to you; but sometimes -you must want a servant to do an odd thing for you, or some one you know -to speak to you.” - -“My dear fellow, no; I do not want a servant in the least. My habits are -far too simple, and my portmanteau is too small for that. I carry it in -my hand, and I stay with friends, so that there is no expense.” - -“Yes; we know. But a dozen young men are going to keep me and pay my -expenses. I am just to follow you about, but not to interfere with you -in any way. You won’t know that I am there unless you happen to want me. -But I shall be where you are, and I can let them know at home, here, how -you are and all about you. I shall be in the same train and the same -town. I shall hear you speak, and be near you all the time. Don’t say -No, please, sir; for we have all set our hearts upon it. I am to do it -for a year. I, who deserve it least, am to have the honour first, then I -shall go back to work, and the others each take a turn, sir; please do -give way on this thing, and let us have our own will in the matter.” - -Arthur Knight was much touched. - -“I do not know how it will answer, but since you desire it so much, we -will try this plan.” - -“Thank you, sir; thank you! All the fellows will be much obliged to you. -As for me, the fact is, sir, I—I—I love the very ground you tread upon!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - “GET ON, GET HONOUR, GET HONEST.” - - -Geoff and Sissie Hancourt were staying at Hornby Hall, and Miss Tom -Whitwell was having a splendid time with them. She had been introduced -to the parents of the children, and when she heard of the projected -emigration into Wales, she begged that during the time of the removal -the children might be her guests. - -“I will take as much care of them as their own mother could,” she said, -“and bring them to you when you are settled. We have already an -invitation to visit the place with the horrible name—what is it? -Craighelbyl. For Mrs. Wythburn has invited Margaret Miller and me to see -for ourselves the working of the millennium which the new Don Quixote is -bringing about; so if you will lend me the children, Mrs. Hancourt, I -promise not to keep them or run away with them, but to return them to -you, whole, and in good condition.” - -The little which Mrs. Hancourt knew of Tom was enough to assure her that -her darlings would be quite safe in her care, and she felt that it would -really be a relief to be free from the worry of them during that busy -time; though she found it difficult to part from them even for a week or -two. Tom, however, carried her point, and took the children with her. - -“It is a trying thing to be a mother, Margaret,” she said to her friend, -“and very bad for the emotional part of a woman’s nature. Poor Mrs. -Hancourt embraced those children and wept over them until her hands -trembled, and her eyes were swollen, and she looked ready to faint with -grief. She kissed their hands and their faces, and I think she would -have kissed their feet if she could conveniently have got at them. It is -a mysterious sort of love which a mother has, Margaret, but these -children are darlings. They are asleep now; come and look at them.” - -The friends were walking in the Hornby grounds, and as Tom uttered the -last words she lifted her eyes to the window of the room where she had -left Sissie comfortably tucked into the dainty little bed which she and -her sisters had prepared for her reception. - -The next moment a low cry of anguish broke from her, and Margaret, -looking in the same direction, felt as if her heart froze with horror. -The window had been pushed up, and standing outside on the sill was the -little figure in white which Tom had promised to restore to her mother. - -The child’s nightdress floated in the breeze, and she was looking up to -a swallow’s nest built in the roof, while clapping her tiny hands to see -if she could make a bird fly from it. - -“Oh, God, have mercy!” groaned Margaret, with white lips. “Don’t let the -child see us, Tom. Run upstairs; but do not startle her. Go into the -room quietly, and hold out your arms.” - -Tom flew up the stairs, and Margaret stood below under the window, -holding out the skirt of her dress to catch the child if she should -fall. - -There were three flights of stairs, and it appeared to Tom that it took -her an age to ascend them. She thought she could not pray; but body, -soul, and spirit seemed to go up to God in one voiceless but impassioned -cry of entreaty. - -She could scarcely breathe when she reached the door; but she opened it -gently, and said softly, “Sissie! Sissie!” - -The child was too much interested in the nest to hear her, and Tom felt -suddenly as if she had lost her voice. - -A chair stood by the window; the little one had evidently stood on it to -gain access to the sill. Would she step back to the chair now? - -“Sissie! Sissie, darling!” said Tom. But she was afraid to go too near -the window, for fear of frightening the little one. What should she do? -Had she better ring the bell and rouse the house? Or fetch Geoff to call -his sister? - -Presently it occurred to her that if she went softly round by the wall -she could manage to suddenly clutch the little form. And she tried; but -Sissie saw her, and Tom’s heart sank with dismay. - -“You can’t catch me, Miss Tom!” she said. - -And Tom opened her arms, and said, “Come to me, darling; I have -something for you.” - -The next moment Tom sank to the floor with the little one in her arms; -Sissie murmuring, in tones of contrition, “Poor auntie! Naughty, naughty -Sissie!” - -Almost directly there were steps on the stairs, and sobs in the voices -of those who tried to ask questions. - -But when Tom sat up, looking dazed, and Mr. and Mrs. Whitwell came into -the room with white faces, Sissie Hancourt was lying quietly in the -little bed, with her eyes closed as peacefully as if nothing had -happened. - -Margaret lifted her out and wrapped her in a shawl. “I am afraid you are -a very, very naughty little girl,” she said; “and I am sure you must be -scolded; indeed, I think you must be punished as well.” - -“I only wanted to look at the nest,” she said, “and I holded tight -nearly all the while. Geoff says there are some young ones in the nest.” - -“But you might have fallen down and killed yourself.” - -“Well, I don’t want you to scold me. I love my Auntie Tom the best.” - -Tom tried to take her, but she was feeling so weak and giddy that she -could not hold her. - -“I think,” said Mrs. Whitwell, “that we shall have to whip you, Sissie. -See how white Auntie Tom looks because you frightened her so much.” - -“Don’t be frightened, Auntie Tom; I won’t hurt you.” - -“You had better take her in hand,” said Mrs. Whitwell to her husband. It -was not the first time that she had passed a refractory and difficult -child over to the same management. - -“Go downstairs, all of you,” he said, “and leave Tom and me to deal with -her.” When they had left he sat with the child on his knee, and in grave -tones began to talk to her. “You do not want to be naughty, dear child, -but you will make us all very unhappy if you do such things as that. You -are only a little girl, but I am sure you know what is right and wrong, -and that getting out of a bedroom window is very wrong indeed. If you -want to see a nest, I will try to find one for you in a hedge to-morrow; -but you must not go and do what you like in this way without saying a -word to anybody. What would your father say if his little girl were to -fall from a window and be killed, and he should never see you any more? -And what would your mother do if there were no longer any little Sissie? -I shall be afraid to keep you in my house unless you promise me to be -good. When you are put to bed you must lie still, and go to sleep, as -other little girls do, because, you know, you say your prayers, and ask -God to bless you; but how can you expect Him to do it if you are so -naughty? He looks at you all the time, and takes notice of what you do; -so you must always try to be good and obedient. And you will in future, -won’t you, Sissie? Say you will; now promise me, there’s a dear little -girl.” - -There was a beautiful expression of thoughtfulness on the sweet little -face that was upturned to his, and the child passed her soft, cool hands -to and fro over the bald part of his head while he waited for the -promise. She did not speak for a moment or two, and then she said: “What -a big forehead you have got! It goes all over behind.” - -Tom took the child from her father with a hysterical laugh, which soon -changed to weeping. Then the little one began to cry, too, softly and -pitifully. “I will be good,” she said, “dear Auntie Tom. Put me to bed, -and I will be a little mousie, so still, and never, never do it again.” - -Tom’s nerves had been dreadfully shaken, and for some hours that night -sleep was out of the question; so she and Margaret had a long talk -together of that which was really uppermost in the minds of each. -Margaret had been earnestly desiring to confide in her friend, but had -not ventured to do so because she could not be certain of Tom’s -feelings. On this night, however, Tom herself introduced the subject. - -“Margaret,” she said, “you have not told me, as you ought to have done, -considering what good friends we have always been, that you are engaged -to my Cousin John; but I know you are, because he has told me so, and I -want you to accept my congratulations. Nobody in the world will be more -pleased than I to see you two happy together.” - -“It is most good of you, Tom. Thank you very much. I have told no one; -indeed, I am not sure that we are really engaged; but it is true that he -cares for me, and I—he wishes us to be engaged, and perhaps there is no -reason why we should not be. Do you know of any, Tom?” - -“Not any, Madge,” said Tom, demurely, “because I know you care for him -too. Poor fellow!” - -“Why is he a poor fellow, Tom? Because _two_ young women care for him?” - -“Oh, no! He is to be congratulated on that account. I love him very much -in a cousinly way; but if he wanted me to marry him, which he never has -done, I would not, for I think it would not be right, since we are -cousins. But I call him a poor fellow because I know how worried and -troubled he is.” - -“Is he, Tom? I expect he confides in you more than in me.” - -“I am sure he does; but you need not therefore be jealous, Margaret. -Some things he could not tell you.” - -“But you can, Tom, and I shall be most thankful if you will. Does his -mother hate me as much as she did? That is a great trouble to me also. -What would I not give if I could win Mrs. Hunter’s good opinion! But I -have no chance. She avoids me as much as possible, and when we happen to -meet she will not look at me or speak to me if she can help it. -Sometimes I think I will break through all reserve, and tell her that I -will not marry her son until she wishes it, for I do not mean to do so.” - -“You had better not say _that_, Margaret. Aunt is very one-sided and -narrow in many of her notions, and as stubborn as only a woman can be. -John’s happiness ought to be of far more consequence to you than his -mother’s good opinion. The one you can insure; the other you may -deserve, but it is doubtful if you will get it.” - -“You are not very encouraging, Tom; but I do not despair, -notwithstanding all that you say, and I know, of Mrs. Hunter. She will, -perhaps, receive me yet as a daughter some day, if I am patient. My -grandfather often says that all things come to those who wait, and I am -only in a hurry for John’s sake.” - -Margaret spoke the last three words with such tender emphasis that the -colour came into Tom’s face. She would never tell any one of the battle -which she had fought with herself over her cousin; but she thought the -victory was completely won, and had spoken quite sincerely when she -congratulated her friend. The two talked together of John, and when one -was not sounding his praises the other was. They both knew, though Tom -more than Margaret, of the many troubles that made him look grave, and -caused him—and them too, for the matter of that—many an anxious hour. He -was doing the right thing by his men; he was cultivating his land to its -fullest extent and farming on the most scientific principles; but at -present he had been able to do nothing toward paying off the mortgage, -which pressed heavily upon his mind. - -Margaret’s dreams were often of what she would do if she had a -legacy—how she would help John without his knowing who did it, and -change his losses into successes. But her love was able to do so little -to express itself; and her faith was so sorely tried when she saw that -he was not happy, that frequently she was not the bright Margaret which -she knew she ought to be. - -When she returned from her visit to Hornby Hall she found her -grandfather had been thinking of John Dallington also. - -“You will not be a penniless wife, Margaret,” he said; “and that reminds -me that I have never shown you our treasure-trove, or, to put it as I -ought, your treasure-trove, for really it all belongs to you. You will -not be surprised to hear that our bank is in the house, for I have told -you so already. That was one of the promises which I had to make to -Captain Dallington—namely, that I would keep in the house a certain iron -box which he gave into my charge. I often wonder why he did this; he was -a sensible man in many respects, but he had some of the most peculiar -and eccentric ideas. And the money which I was to use for your wants, -and in order to keep a comfortable home for you, is in the house. Would -you like to look at it?” - -“I should very much, indeed, Graf. Is it a heap of shining sovereigns, -such as you read of in books?” - -“Come with me, and you shall see. I wish we could give some of it to Mr. -Dallington; but he would not take it, of course, unless he had to take -you with it; and even then, though there is enough for you and your -children, there is not enough to buy back a farm or an estate, and I am -afraid there is nothing we can do.” - -As he was speaking, Mr. Harris led the way to his own room, and with a -key which he took from his pocket he opened a drawer, from which he took -another key. Then he removed a table and inserted this second key—a very -small one—into a hole in the wall. A door flew open, and all that -Margaret saw was another key, and a plaster wall in front. Mr. Harris -touched a spring, and the wall slid back, and then a box was discovered. -The opening of this box was watched with considerable interest by -Margaret, for she, who wanted nothing for herself, wanted much for the -man whom she loved. It was a deep iron box, and when it had in its turn -been unlocked she saw the gold she had dreamed of—a great pile of it, -and of notes, at the sight of which she burst into a low laugh. - -“Here is enough for John’s needs,” she said. “Oh, Graf, dear, we must -contrive for him to have some of it, because, you know, it belongs by -right to him; for if Captain Dallington had not made that will, John, -who is heir, must have had it all.” - -Margaret took some of the shining pieces almost caressingly, for she -thought of the beneficent power there might be in them, and was resolved -that she would get Mr. Harris to set his mind to the problem which often -troubled her—how to help John without offending him. - -“How much of this do we use every year, Graf?” she asked. - -“Very little, indeed,” was the reply, “for I have a source of income -which prevents me from using a penny of this money on myself. All this -you will know of some day, for my will is made, and all that I have, as -well as all that Mr. Dallington had, is left to you. You will never be a -rich woman, though, Margaret; and I hope you will be content to let Mr. -Dallington fight this battle of limited means himself. I am an old man -now, and I have learnt a few things in my life, and one is that if a -battle be fought nobly, even though one’s antagonist be ignoble, the -result is beneficial to a real, true man. John Dallington’s great -trouble is that he wants more money than he has. He must learn either to -do without it or to get it. That is the daily worry which is spoiling -many men’s lives; but John is made of stuff too good surely to let it -spoil his. Why does he not sell some of the land, and live on what is -left?” - -“Sell the land, Graf? Sell it, when it belonged to his father, and his -father before him?” - -“Yes, sell it; why not?” - -“Well, of course, if you cannot see why not, I can scarcely hope to make -you,” said Margaret, in tones which showed that she was offended. - -Mr. Harris smiled as he went into the shop to serve a customer; but he -believed that Margaret felt, as he did, that lack of money, so long as -the absolute necessaries of life could be secured, ought not to be -considered the great affliction which many people seemed to consider it. - -The customer proved to be Dr. Stapleton. It was a strange thing that the -only person taken into the doctor’s confidence was this man, whom he -often heard spoken of as an irreligious man who had “never been -converted.” He had been thus spoken of on this very day, and the doctor -had irritably replied that he hoped he never would be, for it would be a -great pity for Harris to be changed into the sort of thing that many -were who believed themselves undoubtedly converted. - -The shopkeeper threw open the door of his little sanctum, and the doctor -passed through. - -“I have not much time to spare,” he said, “but I wanted to tell you that -my brother will do the thing which you advised—not because you advised -it, though, but because he has a son. Do you know anything of the Young -Crusaders?” - -“Of course I do. My Margaret and Miss Tom Whitwell had the honour of -originating that movement.” - -“Well, my brother’s eldest boy, Ernest, is one of them. He is the finest -boy, handsome to look at, and grand to trust in. There was a scene to be -remembered the other day. Felix told the lad of his trouble, and he at -once seemed to comprehend it all. He told his mother and his sisters -more than they had guessed before, and then—it was the strangest -thing—he knelt down and prayed to God to give them all courage to do the -right. I would have called him a prig, but he isn’t one; he is a real, -frank, manly Christian, such as we all ought to be. It seems a pity that -the young are so much better than the old. But Ernest Stapleton is -splendid. He said that he had seen a pretty little cottage, large enough -to hold them all and one young servant, in a village two miles from -Granchester, which was to be had for £20 a year. He asked them where -would be the hardship, really, if they went there to live, and he and -his father did the best they could with the business, and made it firm -by the simple means of reducing the family expenditure and taking -nothing out of it. He said that if they could fearlessly state the -reason for the change, all whose opinion was worth having would think -well of them; and that if they did not, their consciences would be at -rest, for they would defraud no man; and that, with God’s smile on them, -they would not only get on, but they would get honour, and get honest, -too. And that boy is actually to have his way. The beautiful home and -estate, with all the pictures and carriages and the rest, are to be -sold; and my brother hopes that he can not only save himself from -bankruptcy, but pay everybody fifteen shillings in the pound now, and -the other five shillings in a year. Ernest says, and no doubt he is -right, that the threatened strike will collapse, since the men will work -for the wages which he is able to offer them, for a master who is honest -enough to act in such a way as that. What do you think of that for a -Twentieth Century boy, Harris?” - -“I should like to shake hands with him, doctor.” - -“And so you shall.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - A CITY OF HOMES. - - -It was Saturday afternoon at Craighelbyl. The sun shone on the woods and -the mountains and lighted the beautiful blue sea, while the birds sang -in the trees, and the flowers smiled upon the banks as if they all cared -for the London settlers and were doing their best to make them happy. It -was an ideal day for a holiday, not too hot to be unpleasant, but sunny -and breezy together; and the people, as they stood in the doorways of -their homes felt themselves drawn away to the objects of beauty on which -their eyes were resting; and many who had never thought of walking long -distances in London were preparing to go down to the sea, or up to the -highest point, in order to see the view. - -The first working-week was past, and the freshness of the new conditions -had gone with it. Everything that occurred in those few days would for -ever stand forth with crisp distinctness in the memories of the people, -to whom such experiences were so new as to have been previously even -undreamed of. Such a week no one had known before; and, the best of it -all was, that it was not merely one week in a life given as a great -treat, and never repeated: it was the beginning of a new life for them -all. - -“It is a pleasure to work in such a factory, and I will put in for the -master the best week’s work I have ever done in my life.” One of the -girls said this at the breakfast-table on Monday morning, and her father -repeated it to his fellow-workmen later in the day. It expressed what -every one felt. There was a unanimous resolve that Mr. Knight should not -suffer in his circumstances for all the good which he had done for his -people. - -“Bless him!” said a woman, who had worked for Mr. Knight, senior, nearly -fifty years. “Bless him! He will die as rich as Creasote, or else I -ain’t no prophet. Such a man as gives his goods to feed the poor, and -throwed up his London places ’cause they was dens, and don’t mount no -ladder hisself without trying to drag us all up arter him; why it stands -to sense as he have a reglar gold-mine in this world, and the cattle -upon a thousand hills hereafter. As for me I wish I had fifty pairs of -hands, they should all rattle along at railway speed before he should -lose a penny for all he has done for me.” - -“I wish I was cleverer at it,” rejoined a girl, who was working near -this woman. “I’ve never troubled to make myself a first-class worker, -nor I ain’t cared a bit about the work except for the pay; but now I -shall go to those evening classes, and learn all I can, and see whether -I can’t do credit to Mr. Knight. I’ve never took pains before, but I’ll -take pains now, as sure as my name is Sarann.” - -Many other “Saranns” made the same resolution, and Arthur Knight was -touched to see how gentle all his people seemed to become; and how they -continued to manifest their gratitude in a dozen ways, though many were -too shy to endeavour to express it in words. - -He was himself profoundly thankful for all that had been accomplished. - -But he was exceedingly solicitous as to the future. He took into his -confidence some of his helpers, and consulted them as to the best means -of meeting certain emergencies which he feared would arise. - -“The men will work in their gardens or go down to the shore, and perhaps -be quite happy for a time,” he said; “but afterward there may be a -reaction, and I am afraid their thoughts may go back a little -regretfully to the public-house bar where they sat and smoked and drank -and swore in perfect freedom. Perhaps if we cannot let them have the -beer they must have the skittles and the smoking. It is no use to try to -wind them up too high. You must help me to find some ways in which they -can all be amused.” - -“I am going to try to get them interested in gardening,” said Mr. -Wythburn. “Coming as I do from the country, I have been able to bring -with me a quantity of splendid peas and beans, as well as cabbages and -potatoes; and I have talked to a lot of the fellows this week about what -they can do with their bits of ground. The soil isn’t bad, and in a -fortnight’s time there will be some home-grown cress at the family -tea-tables, which will be a sort of first-fruits, and will encourage -them to get on with the planting or sowing of other things. I have -undertaken to give practical advice on the subject of crops to the -community, and am not without hope that digging will—for the present, at -all events—quite take the place of drinking.” - -“I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Wythburn,” said Mr. Knight, “and to -you all, for what you are doing for me. It will, I think, be a good plan -to call in the aid of those who happen to have been born in villages, -and get them to lend a hand to their more inexperienced neighbours.” - -“I have some creeping plants which will grow rapidly. We shall put them -outside the houses, and in a little time they will cover the new walls -with beauty. A word of commendation from you, Mr. Knight, will go a long -way to encourage the men.” - -“It shall certainly be spoken,” said Arthur Knight. - -But the men were even less interested in the outside of their homes than -were the women in the inside. It was the first time that they had ever -had a real home in the lives of many. And every woman took a pride in -making the best of what she had. The houses were plainly furnished—there -was nothing answering to a drawing-room so far as Mr. Knight’s -arrangements went; but there were two rooms besides the scullery, and -one of them, intended to be the living room of the family, was large, -light, and comfortable. There was plenty to be done still in order to -beautify the places, and add to their convenience; and the women, -especially the young ones, were eager to use up their Saturday -half-holiday for this purpose. - -The love of home is born with every Englishman, and the women in whose -hearts it does not live are untrue to the traditions of their race. -These women, who had been brought into Wales by Mr. Knight, had -forgotten many things; but few there were who did not honestly try to -remember the old lessons of their girlhood, when the word was passed -round to them: “The places are clean and comfortable, and you are -expected to keep them so.” And, therefore, on this Saturday there was an -immense amount of scrubbing and rubbing, of making dainty curtains and -pretty rosettes, of hanging up pictures and ornaments, and of showing in -a dozen ways how dear the new homes were becoming to the hearts of those -who dwelt in them. - -“Craighelbyl must have another name,” said Mary Wythburn; “something -that means a city of homes; for that is what our place will become.” - -“It is that already, thanks to Mr. Knight and to you, dear Basket -Woman,” said a girl, looking with loving eyes at her friend. “My father -is delighted at the thought that the rent which he pays is to be really -purchase-money, and that in ten years the house will be his own. Mr. -Knight does not know how he has saved father. Every Saturday he used to -sit and drink, and then come to our wretched home cross with himself and -every one else. To-day he is gone with Mr. Wythburn to get two trees to -plant in his own garden. Mr. Wythburn said he could take the men where -they could find young saplings which they might transplant. Father is -looking for a sycamore and an elder tree.” - -“The elder tree grows rapidly,” said Mary, “and perhaps that is the -reason why your father has chosen it.” - -“No, the reason is that there was an elder tree in the garden of the -house in which he was born, for my father was a country boy. I should -prefer a birch; but perhaps that would not grow, and the elder will. -Miss Wythburn, please, I am sent to you as a deputation. Some of the -girls want to know whether they may come and look-through your house to -see if they can imitate the pretty things which they are sure are in -it.” - -“Oh, no! Of course not. What impudence!” The exclamations were not Mary -Wythburn’s but Fanny Burton’s, whose face flushed with anger, and whose -tones were those of indignation. Mary laid a restraining hand upon -Fanny’s shoulder, and answered the request very differently. - -“I will ask my mother; and I am sure that she will be happy to show you -the clever contrivances about which she has been busy all the week. -There is nobody like my mother for the fancy-work which beautifies a -home. I believe that if she had nothing but an underground kitchen to -live in she would contrive to make it look pretty.” - -“But, of course, she does not want everybody to copy her ideas; it isn’t -very likely,” said Fanny, grudgingly. - -“Yes, Fanny; it is not only likely, but certain, that she will be glad -to see her plans repeated in any number of homes. My mother is a very -large-hearted woman indeed; it is worth while for you to know her better -than you do.” - -Fanny was silenced, and Mary Wythburn went away to arrange with her -mother for the object-lesson in housekeeping which some of the girls -wanted. Mrs. Wythburn was exceedingly amused. She was living in most -simple style, having taken very little furniture into the new home. But -Mary was right. No place could be other than pretty and home-like where -her mother was, and, though the house was new and the furniture plain, -there was something which made it look altogether different from all the -other houses in Craighelbyl. All the girls who wished passed through the -rooms and admired or criticised their arrangements, and the gentle -hostess not only allowed them to examine the objects which interested -them, but explained how they were made. This was greatly appreciated by -the young housekeepers, who were anxious to improve themselves and their -homes. - -Later in the season there would be introduced at Craighelbyl some -Saturday occupations and amusements for the people if it should be found -necessary; but at present they all—men, women, and children—were too -much interested in making their homes to care for anything else. - -The conveniences and beauties of the factory buildings, where most of -them had worked for ten hours a day during the week, had delighted and -encouraged them greatly, but it was each man’s home that made him feel -independent and glad. - -When the day was waning Mary Wythburn was sitting in her own little -room, when there came a tap at the door, and Fanny Burton entered in -response to the cheery “Come in” for which she listened. A close -friendship existed between the two girls, who had been so differently -educated but who were now brought together in constant intercourse. - -It was a beautiful evening. The setting sun dyed the mountains and the -sea, and lighted the stone houses of the new settlement. Birds sang on -the branches of the trees, and the scent of some wild flowers which had -been gathered in the woods filled the room. - -“What a change from Paradise Grove!” said Fanny. “It is not like the -same world. To be here, with all one’s own people, so near London, and -yet so far away from its misery, seems wonderful.” - -“Do you think the people regret any part of the old life, Fanny?” - -“Not yet. Perhaps they will, though; but surely not very much, nor for -long.” - -“Listen! There is singing.” - -“Oh, yes! There are to be all sorts of little gatherings this evening in -the homes of some of the men. They are so ready for Sunday that they -wish to begin it overnight. There will be no vacant places at church -to-morrow. Everybody who went last Sunday wishes to go again.” - -“I am glad of that, for Mr. Knight’s sake.” - -“And the people’s sake also. This has been the most beautiful week! -People’s hearts are full of joy and gratitude, and there have been a -hundred home missionaries among them, seeking to lead them to Jesus, and -so make the happiness more real and lasting. I don’t think there has -been a Christian man who dared to hold his tongue. I know of many for -whom the new life has become an accomplished thing this week.” - -“I am very glad. And to-morrow afternoon we are to have a Bible-class -under the beech-tree here. I hope it will be a class of women only, or -chiefly.” - -“It will be, because Mr. Knight has a meeting for men, and they will all -go. The life of the master is more eloquent than his words; but it is a -treat to listen to his addresses.” - -“I hope the desires of his heart will be fully gratified, and that he -will never be disappointed in this place.” - -“Oh, he never will be, surely! for God’s blessing will be upon such an -enterprise. How many changed lives there are among us! And my own is the -most changed of all. I have been thinking of the Sunday when you first -took me into your room, and talked with me, after I had offered up my -first prayer. I sometimes can scarcely think that I am I, so wonderfully -different is my whole life. And how much I owe to you, my own dear -friend. You have taught me what real religion is; and I am so happy that -no words can express my joy and thankfulness.” - -Miss Wythburn caressed the girl, whose voice faltered with emotion, and -her eyes grew dim with tears. - -“God has been very gracious to us both, and all,” she said, “and we must -show our gratitude by making other people as happy as we are. I wish we -could have all the East-end of London here with us.” - -“I am afraid I am glad we cannot,” said Fanny; “but I will not be -selfish. That would be too wicked.” - -Fanny thought of her own words half an hour later. She had said -good-night to Mary, and had turned at her own door, to take a last look -at the fading sunset, when a hand was laid upon her arm, and a voice -that seemed to bring Paradise grove back upon the scene said, “Is there -any room for me here?” - -Fanny turned, with a flush of anger on her face, and looked into the -eyes of Andromeda Jones. “No,” she said. “You have no right here. You -are not one of Mr. Knight’s workpeople. Go away!” - -“Don’t send me away, Fan. Think of what you used to be, and have some -pity for me. I am sick of the old life. I have walked all the way from -London because I want to be good, and have a home, and be saved like you -are.” And poor Drom’s voice died away in a sob. - -“There is no room here for you,” said Fanny, endeavouring to disregard -the words which still lingered in her ears. She did not want to pass on -to this interloper the good which she valued so highly. - -“No room? It is a wide place, and not crowded,” said Drom. “I am very -tired, for the way was long and dreary. You cannot mean that you will -not take me in after all? You have not been served so yourself, Fanny.” - -It was very true. The girl of the slums had become gentle, and refined, -and very happy, all because some one had taken her into a loving heart, -and she had been dealt with tenderly and graciously by the Divine Friend -and the human ones. She looked across at the western skies, with the -beautiful evening glow upon them and hesitated. One more would make very -little difference here, where there was enough and to spare of all good -things. That she knew, but did not wish to remember it now. It vexed her -exceedingly that this girl, whom she had never liked, but who would -always remind her of the worst part of the old life, should have -followed her there, and should still be so persistent. - -“You have not brought any clothes with you, I suppose?” - -“No, I had none to bring. There was but little work all the winter for -me, and I have been only able to keep myself, poorly enough, too; there -have been very few luxuries for me, I can tell you. Oh, Fan, I am so -sick of the old life. Can’t you help me to a chance?” - -“You know, Drom, this place is a private estate. No one has any right -here except by Mr. Knight’s permission.” - -“Oh, yes, I quite understand that. But you might speak for me, or get -the Basket Woman to do it.” - -The colour flashed into Fanny’s face. - -“The Basket Woman?” she said. “The lady of whom you speak is Miss -Wythburn.” - -“I can’t help it,” said Drom. “You know we always used to call her the -Basket Woman. I suppose you are mighty fond of her; she would do -anything you asked her, and Mr. Knight would do anything she asked him; -so it all depends on you whether I am to be sent away from the place -like a thief, or whether a home can be spared for me here. Anyway, as I -have walked more than twenty miles to-day, I suppose I may take a seat -on your doorstep for ten minutes.” - -Fanny began to feel ashamed of her inhospitable mood. “Come in, Drom,” -she said; “we must put you up somewhere for the night. If you go back to -London it must be by train, and there is no train from here till Monday. -We will make the best of it. But I must report the case to Mr. Knight, -of course; it is for him to decide it.” - -Fanny led the way into her own bedroom, which was plainly, but -comfortably, furnished. The only thing in it that was not absolutely for -use was a text, framed, and hung upon the wall. Mary Wythburn had given -it to her, and Fanny wondered sometimes whether the words had been -selected that they might preach a constant sermon. They were: “Freely ye -have received, freely give,” and they seemed fairly to stare at her on -this evening when she took her unwelcome guest into her room. “I cannot -feel glad to see her,” her thought replied to the text; “but I will be -good to her, because I have myself received so very much.” - -“This is too fine for me,” said Andromeda, as she looked at the white -bed and the clean aspect of the little chamber. “I can sleep anywhere, -Fan, for I am so dead beat.” - -“The more reason why you should be comfortable,” was the reply. “I can -make you up a little bed here while you have some supper. And you would -like a bath, wouldn’t you?” - -The poor overwearied girl cried a little, and Fanny relented and became -kind; but she was almost too tired to eat or think, and very soon she -was fast asleep. - -When she awoke the next morning the light was streaming into the room, -the soft winds were stirring the leaves into whispers, and the larks -were pouring down their music upon the happy earth. Fanny was kneeling -by the side of the bed, with an open Bible before her, and a look of -quiet happiness upon her face. Presently she closed the book, and her -eyes and her lips moved as if in prayer. Andromeda watched her most -curiously, lying very quietly the while, and wondering what it was that -Fanny was saying, and whether there was really a God who cared to -listen, and who could answer prayer. - -The eyes of the two girls met as Fanny arose from her kneeling posture, -and seeing that Drom was awake, she went swiftly toward her, and kissed -her. - -“Why do you do that? You know you don’t like me,” said Drom, but her -face lighted with pleasure, and her heart beat more quickly. - -“Yes, I do like you—a little,” said Fanny. “I am not a very affectionate -girl, but I have been reading about Jesus, and talking to Him, and after -that I always feel as if I love everybody.” - -“Even me?” - -“I was not good to you last night, Drom. I am sorry for it now. I am not -naturally good and kind, like Miss Wythburn, but I try to be. I am sure -what you have done, in following us down here, will please her, and I am -not going to be cross any longer. Will you let me lend you some clean -things? You and I are about the same height and size, so you will manage -nicely. See, I have laid out a dress.” - -Andromeda did not know what to say, so she said nothing in response to -the surprising kindness of Fanny, who went down to make things right -with her mother. This was not difficult, as Fanny was quite the ruling -spirit in the home, and when their visitor presently appeared at the -breakfast table she was greeted kindly, and a plate and cup and saucer -were set before her. Indeed, Mrs. Burton was much more pleased to -exercise her hospitality than Fanny was, and it was a real pleasure to -her to take the stranger under her protection, and show her the wonders -of the new place. - -“Come to church,” said Fanny’s mother, “and I will introduce you to Miss -Wythburn outside. She will have a kind word for you, I know. She has for -everybody.” - -“But I have not been to church for a long time.” - -“You will enjoy it all the more for that. Come out and look at the view -from our house. It is beautiful.” - -Indeed it was. Drom shaded her eyes, not more to keep out the light than -to hide her tears, which, for some reason that she could not understand, -were very near the surface. As she stood thus, a pleasant voice spoke to -her: “Good morning! How did you get here? I saw you arrive last night.” - -“I walked.” - -“Why?” - -“Because I wanted a chance and a home.” - -“And you shall have both,” said Mary Wythburn, placing a kind hand upon -the girl’s shoulders. “For Christ’s sake I welcome you, Andromeda, and -will find you some work to do.” - -“Oh! are you sure that I shall not be sent back? I have no home anywhere -now.” - -“You shall have one here,” said Mary, confidently. “This is a city of -homes, and there is certainly room for one stranger who desires to live -a better life.” - -“I do desire it,” said Drom. And Mary took her to church. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - A CHURCH IN CONFERENCE. - - -The second rest-day at Craighelbyl was even more peaceful and happy than -the first, for there was less excitement and a greater feeling of -at-homeness in the hearts of the people. Arthur Knight and his friends -wondered very much whether the response to the invitation of the church -bells would be as universal as before; but it was. At the appointed time -groups of neighbours, with their families, were seen wending their way -to the Father’s House with one accord. The people did not go, perhaps, -from the highest motives. Can it be said that all the members of any -congregation do? But so much were they impressed with the great kindness -and good feeling of the master, that they, one and all, were trying to -keep as right as they could, and many of them, knowing their own -weaknesses, were thankful for the strength and help which they received -from joining in the hymns and listening to the sermon. - -This notable Sunday was commenced with a communion service. The -invitation was given to “all members of churches who love our Lord Jesus -Christ in sincerity, and consider His laws of life and conduct binding -upon them.” And a large proportion of those who filled the building went -forward. This service was short and solemn; it was a time of -reconsecration to many, and it prepared them for what was to follow at -the close of the day. - -After the evening service those who had joined in the communion service -in the morning were requested to remain behind in order to attend the -first church meeting, and, indeed, to form the church itself. The church -was formed accordingly, and on a very simple basis. The following was -the creed:— - -“I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. - -“I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ the Redeemer of the world, as my -Saviour and Law-Giver. - -“I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Revealer, the Enlightener, and the -Comforter. - -“I take as my rule of life the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ, -believing that His laws are binding upon His disciples, and assured that -He who lived for thirty-three years among men has raised no impossible -standard of excellence and brotherly love in the Sermon on the Mount, -and the other words of His placed on record in the gospels.” - -This confession was inscribed in a book, and those who were prepared to -subscribe to it wrote their names beneath. - -At the close of this ceremony the minister, the Rev. James Davies, -offered a dedicatory prayer, and the people sang, on their knees, the -solemn and significant hymn,—fit to voice the faith and feelings of -those who are resolved to consecrate themselves entirely to God, and to -do His will, “the Lord being their Helper”—the hymn composed by Gregory -the Great, somewhere between the years 540 and 604, and translated in -1627—and as good for the new time as the old— - - “Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, - And lighten with celestial fire.” - -After the hymn, Mr. Davies gave a short address on the creed to which -they had given their adhesion, and the resolution contained in the last -clause of it. - -But the people would not leave until Mr. Knight had spoken, and he was -ready with a few words. - -“Dear Friends, you know, and I am sure many of you share, my belief, -that Christianity is a life, and that all real discipleship is eminently -practical. You have declared, by adding your signatures to this book, -that you mean to live up to your faith. I think you understand that my -heart’s desire and prayer to God is that our little community shall be -strictly governed on New Testament Principles, and, according to the -laws of the New Kingdom which Christ came to set up in the world. I -believe that those who have entered this kingdom, and who live in -communion with its Head, do receive daily enlightenment from Him who is -the Light of the World, and therefore I believe that the true rulers of -men must be those who are ruled by Jesus. Now, I ask you, the members of -Christ’s Church, to take upon yourselves the responsibility of the -management of this community, and to govern it according to the will of -your Master, as revealed in the New Testament, and in the events and -progress of these times. You surely know the right; _do it_, and, as far -as you can, see that others do it also. I invite you to become during -the next week a church in council; to consider certain things which -relate to the well-being of the community; to decide what, if any, -by-laws shall be made and enforced; to appoint an executive committee; -to settle certain sanitary, educational, and other matters; and -generally to undertake the responsibilities of our little State. You can -govern in your own right, which I hereby commit to you; or you can, if -you prefer to do so, submit your suggestions to the whole society. In a -little while, perhaps, we shall discover that the best way to rule will -be to have a number of men and women chosen and elected by the people; -but at present I ask you to appoint a committee of, say, twenty men and -women, who shall prepare and propose, not to the community, but to the -Church, certain resolutions touching the interests of us all. This will -be your first work to-morrow. I do not propose to be on this committee, -nor to interfere with it unless it should become absolutely necessary, -but to leave the management of affairs in your own hands. You know -better than I who are the wisest among you. I hope you will choose -these, and ask them to serve you, and that they will gladly do so to the -best of their ability. But, dear friends, do not forget that you can -legislate for our little world as well as our own small church; and that -it will depend very much upon your treatment of those outside the church -whether or not they are attracted to Christianity. May you, therefore, -be guided in all things by the spirit of love, fairness, and -righteousness; and may God give you the wisdom which you require! It is -for you to show yourselves disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, and to -win others to Him by your unselfishness, your consideration of others, -and your goodness of heart and life. If you are true to your Master we -shall have reason to rejoice in our Craighelbyl life. This is a great -trial place; it is a test of the real worth of Christian principles; -everything depends upon your faithfulness to Him. I hope you will hold -your deliberations here, in this sacred place, and that no spirit will -be exhibited contrary to His Spirit, and no laws enacted but those which -He would sanction.” - -The next evening the church again assembled. - -The first thing was to appoint an executive committee, numbering about -twenty. Mr. Knight and the minister asked to be allowed to stand aside -excepting as they were needed. Dr. Armitt, a Christian man of great -ability and kindliness, was first elected; then Mr. and Mrs. Wythburn -and their daughter; next Mr. and Mrs. Hancourt, but the latter excused -herself on account of her domestic duties. Fanny Burton was asked to -become a member, and she consented; and then a dozen of the working men -of the community, who were known to be wise and honourable men, in equal -proportions of young men and old, were asked to serve; and the business -before them was at once commenced. - -The first question which was settled affected the age at which the -children of the town should leave school. Two evenings were occupied in -discussing this; but it was eventually decided that the children were to -remain in the ordinary school until they were twelve, and that two -supplementary years were to be added, during which half the school -day—which was to be extended to seven hours—should be spent in the -ordinary and half in the technical school. - -This involved considerable self-denial on behalf of the parents; but one -man enthusiastically declared that at Craighelbyl the heroes and -heroines of the future were to be born and trained, and then sent forth -into the world to take the highest places everywhere, and teach other -men to copy the example of Knight’s own town. It was worth while, he -argued, for fathers to manage without the earnings of their children -when such issues as the reformation of the world depended upon it. And -although some of his neighbours laughed at his “tall talk,” they decided -that fourteen school years were none too many for the children of -Craighelbyl. - -The next matter settled was a law that all young people should pay into -a fund to provide them with an income in old age, and that a savings -bank belonging to Knight’s business should be at once established, in -order that some provision should be made for sickness. - -And yet another law was passed, that if any man or woman should tempt a -child to take intoxicating drink, he or she should be asked to at once -quit Craighelbyl. - -Another excellent resolution was passed affecting the women who were -employed in the factories. A young Crusader introduced the subject in -words that went directly to the point. “Most men,” he said, “are jealous -of the positions that women are making for themselves, and this feeling -renders us unjust. They work as many hours as men, and always for less -wages. If they do the same work why do they not have the same money? -Many masters would probably give them the same, but for the knowledge -that in so doing they would displease their men, who have always been -content that women should labour under this disadvantage. They do work -often that men might do, we say, and they are not to be encouraged in -it. But how many factory lads are there who are chivalrous enough to -prefer to keep their sisters? How many fathers who object to the money -which their daughters earn and bring home to pay for their board and -lodging? Yet we are full of complaints that factory girls do not make -good wives. How in the world are they to make good wives when they are -at work all day? They ought not to be expected to work as many hours as -we do; and I beg to propose that all who are willing shall sign a -petition to Mr. Knight, asking him to make a woman’s working day in -Craighelbyl two hours less than a man’s. (Murmurs of dissent were -heard.) Nay, with such helpers of womanhood as Miss Wythburn and her -assistants we may be quite sure that the women and girls would turn -those two hours to good account, and that in the end, we, the men of the -place, will be better off for the change. Of course it is all very well -for us to pass this resolution; you say Mr. Knight will be the only -loser by it. But the women would not be willing for him to lose, neither -would a man among us. What I mean is that we should offer to work one -hour a day longer for the same wages, and also that heads of households -should be willing to take a little less money for the ‘keep’ of -daughters or sisters; or, if that does not answer, that every man, who -is a man and deserves the name, should pay into a fund in order to make -this matter straight. Why, you know it is only of late years that women -have been expected to earn their own living, and it is only because the -men have grown more feeble and less gallant, less chivalrous, less -manly. Here at Craighelbyl we have a chance to show that we at least are -made of different stuff from many of our fellows. Let us set the example -of putting this women’s question upon another basis.” - -In consequence of this resolution the meeting had to be adjourned, and -two evenings were given to the discussion of the subject. Eventually, -however, it was agreed to ask Mr. Knight to make the women’s day an hour -less than the men’s, and to keep their wages at the same rate as before, -and to assure him that in Craighelbyl there would be enough volunteers -among the men to prevent his having any loss from the change. - -And it may be safely said that no action of the Craighelbyl Church in -conference created such a sensation throughout England and Wales as -this. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - THISTLES OR GRAPES? - - -“Are there any lodgings to let in Darentdale?” - -The village post-office closed early; and the postman had just called, -in his curious red cart, drawn by a gaunt horse that was celebrated for -getting over the ground quickly, and, having received the bag, was -hastening away to the nearest town. The postmistress, an active woman -who, having a paralysed husband, needed all her activity, had come to -the door to look after him, when a stranger arrived with a letter. “Too -late?” he asked; and she replied “Too late!” and was about to go in and -close the door, when his other question arrested her. - -Now, it happened that Mrs. Orley had been thinking only that afternoon -how well she could spare her best parlour and the bedroom over it, if by -doing so she could earn an honest pound or two. She knew that in many -villages there had been inquiries for lodgings, and wondered that none -of the inquirers came her way—and here stood one before her, as if in -answer to her thoughts. - -But Mrs. Orley was a wary woman, and the very coincidence of her thought -and his appearance created a doubt in her mind. - -“Lodgings?” she said, “No, I never heard of anybody who lets lodgings in -this village.” - -“No? Now, that is a pity, for a prettier village does not exist in -England.” - -“Maybe you’ve seen all the others. I haven’t, so I don’t pretend to say. -’Tis pretty enough for us.” - -“And healthy, I suppose?” - -“Yes; we live as long as most folks, especially in these days, when the -houses are better than they used to be.” - -“Well, I should like to stay here for a week or two, and I wouldn’t mind -paying fairly. I have taken a fancy to the place. I like the undulations -and the woods; and I think the squire’s house is very pretty. But I -suppose it is no use to stay longer. You know everybody. I have always -found that a postmaster is the best person in a place of whom to make -inquiries, so if you say there are no lodgings, I must go on to the next -village.” - -“How much did you want to pay? I have a sitting-room and a bedroom. I -wouldn’t mind obliging you if we can come to terms. Would you like to -look at the rooms?” - -“I should,” said the stranger, with alacrity; and no sooner had he seen -them than he declared that they were exactly what he wanted. - -“Make me an offer,” said Mrs. Orley. - -“I shall not give much trouble,” said the stranger. “Would a pound a -week satisfy you?” - -“I don’t want to hurt you,” said Mrs. Orley; “I will oblige you if you -like for a pound a week.” - -If she had mentioned a sum, it would have been half that amount. But the -stranger appeared pleased, and soon settled down, giving his name as -Samuel Smart. Mrs. Orley decided that he was an author, for he was -always writing. She was not surprised at his coming to Darentdale, for -she knew that a good deal had been written about the place, and no doubt -this man was making up a story in which Darentdale would figure to -advantage. So, being a kind-hearted woman and very fond of an innocent -bit of gossip, she told her lodger many interesting things about the -inhabitants of the village. She offered to introduce him to the parson -and the squire, but he declined her services in this respect, and only -made a few acquaintances on his own account. He bought a good many books -during his stay. He had a list of those which he wanted, and asked for -them one at a time of Mr. Harris. He had none in stock, but could always -get the volume in a day or two; so there was much coming and going -between the bookseller and the customer, and however busy with his pen -the stranger might be, he had plenty of time to spare for a talk with -him. - -“He interests me exceedingly,” he said to Mrs. Orley; and she told him -all she knew of Margaret and her grandfather. “Miss Miller is much more -interesting than the old man,” said the postmistress; but Mr. Smart did -not seem to think so, and she set him down as a confirmed old bachelor, -with very poor tastes and little knowledge of beauty. Margaret was a -great favourite of hers, and she was never tired of talking of her; but -only once did she succeed in arousing anything like feeling in Mr. -Smart. And that was when she had done something which she certainly -ought not to have done. - -For, of course, Mrs. Orley had sworn before a magistrate that she would -regard as sacred all letters that passed through her hands, and she did -not doubt that letters included postcards; and yet one morning she not -only read the whole contents of a postcard herself, but actually took -the card to her lodger, and he read it too. - -It was a very insulting postcard, written anonymously, and addressed to -Margaret Miller. - -“Read this, sir,” she said, handing it to him with the contents side up, -and he read it before he turned it and saw the address. - -Mrs. Orley was frightened; she did not think her lodger could exhibit so -much passion. “A coward!” he said, between his teeth, “and, of course, a -woman. Men are bad enough, but no man could do such a mean thing as -that. It takes a jealous, spiteful woman to insult another woman by -means of an anonymous postcard. Let us throw the thing on the fire.” - -Mrs. Orley snatched it away in alarm. “It is as much as my place is -worth not to deliver it,” she said, “and I’ve just bethought myself that -I ought not to have shown it to you; not that the envious thing who -wrote it cares how many people see it; it is put on a postcard on -purpose. But I don’t think it will hurt Miss Miller very much. Her lips -will tremble a little when she reads it, and she will ask herself if it -contains a lesson that she ought to learn and benefit by, and will read -it again to see, and then she will burn it and try to forget the -unkindness of it. That is her way.” - -“And a very good way, too,” said Mr. Smart, more gently, as he put on -his hat and went out. - -Mrs. Orley watched him a little after that; but she could never discover -that he took the slightest interest in Margaret Miller, or ever spoke to -her, or even looked at her if she happened to pass him in the street. - -He stayed at Darentdale three weeks, and when he left he asked his -hostess to accept an extra pound, which he declared was only her due, -because he had been so much more comfortable than he expected. - -He had appeared much interested in the scenery, the place and people, as -well he might be, for there was another village beside Craighelbyl in -which the summer passed ideally; and it was Darentdale, where all were -trying to make life as joyous as God intended it should be. It is one -thing to make a great effort of good work in order to float a scheme, it -is quite another to keep it going when the first enthusiasm has died -out. The little homes among the green were inhabited by no stronger -people than the rest of the world; but their friends were far-seeing and -patient, and exceedingly solicitous that there should be no failures. It -was known that many towns and villages had followed when Darentdale led -the way; and it could be said of more than a few places that all that -man could do to prevent sin and misery was being done in their locality. -Some complaints, indeed, were made that there was danger of a narrowing -of interests; but this was scarcely true. A farmer who puts forth all -his powers to keep every inch of his own land in good condition is yet -quite able to look at his neighbours’ farms, and even, by means of the -Press, to cast a glance over the whole wide world. The Darentdale -Church, united, for the sake of those who were outside, had plenty of -work on its hands, and a great solicitude in its heart. - -And there was a “revival” in Darentdale. There had to be—first, in the -church, where it was most needed; and, secondly, outside—among those -whom it was necessary to bring in. For those who worked the most -earnestly were not able to do, of themselves, that which they most -desired to do, and the more entirely they felt their own helplessness -the more entirely were they thrown upon God. - -They were disappointed again and again. One woman, who had been helped -and who had seemed grateful, relapsed into drunkenness, and was quite -candid. “I have been a fool,” she said, “to sign the pledge and pretend -that I want to be goody. But never again! A short life and a merry one -for me!” - -The way was too narrow, the fight too strenuous, for them. They needed a -Helper stronger than the human, and until they sought Him, the immoral -could not become moral, or the evil good. - -“We must pray more! Let us give an hour a day to intercessory wrestling -with God, that He will save the people, for they cannot save themselves; -neither can we save them; but we are sure that, if it be God’s will, -they must be saved,” said one. - -“And I am sure,” replied Mr. Harris, “that it is most certainly God’s -will that they should be saved.” But he prayed with the rest, for, -although he did not even now attend the ordinary religious service at -church or chapel, he was always present at the united meetings that were -public. - -The whole church, indeed, gave itself up to prayer, both private and -united; and, as is always the case, there were some remarkable incidents -proving that prayers were heard and answers abundant; one man, Benham, -declaring that after what he had seen he would never doubt again. “Since -that woman is changed,” he added, “I am sure that any one can be. There -is an alteration in this place, sure enough.” - -“There is,” said Nelson, who was the recipient of Benham’s confidences; -“but it is because good people mean it all much more than they used.” - -“Yes; and things will never be the same again, for now they know how to -look after the boys and girls. And this is the most promising thing of -all.” - -And indeed it was. The Darentdale Committee of Helpfulness set a very -high value on every young person living in the village. If he or she -should show vicious tendencies the best and ablest person among them -undertook the case. All the ingenuity and watchful love of wise parents -were brought to bear, and at present there had been no case that proved -invulnerable to these benign powers and influences. It soon became an -extraordinary thing to the Darentdale people that there could ever have -been a time when a child was of small account in the place. “We shall -make _men_ out of these,” was a consideration never overlooked now in -regard to the children. - -A very merry place was Darentdale during those summer evenings. There -were a dozen tennis-courts, and as many cricket-grounds, each presenting -a scene of most complete enjoyment. The young ladies played with the -poor girls. Mr. Dallington, the clergyman, and the Baptist minister, -each superintended some recreations, and all sorts of delightful games -were organised, in which lads and girls joined and their teachers -assisted. There were botany classes held in the fields and woods; there -were the sounds of sweet songs in the meadows, and open-air concerts in -the groves; there were gymnastic feats in the orchards, and races in the -lanes; but everything was under the supervision of Christian men and -women, who guided the conversation, and helped with the jokes, and made -it impossible for gambling or bad language to be mixed up with the play, -and who believed that in all this they were doing the Lord’s work as -certainly as when they were teaching in the Sunday-school. - -Margaret Miller and John Dallington were quietly waiting. The look of -youthfulness had passed from John’s face and form, but Margaret was as -sweet as ever. John shouldered his cross of care manfully, and Margaret -daily laid hers down at the feet of Him who is as able to bear our -sorrows as our sins; and both helped in the efforts that were being made -for the betterment of the people who had been, as they believed, -committed to their care. - -One thing had greatly delighted Margaret, and it was that her -grandfather, as she still called him, had undertaken the care of a dozen -of her Young Crusaders. At first, though neither he nor she knew it, -there had been a demur among some of the committee. - -“This must be kept in the hands of Christians,” one said “and we have no -proof that Mr. Harris believes in Christ.” - -But another replied, “Let us judge him by the Master’s rule, ‘By their -fruits ye shall know them.’ We cannot doubt that _He_ would deal very -tolerantly with such a man as Henry Harris if He were here now. No one -has ever heard him say a word against Christ in all the years we have -known him.” - -“And now he never says a word against anybody, he has become wonderfully -gentle and good. He will do no harm to the boys.” - -And this was certainly the feeling of the majority. As for Margaret, she -almost envied the boys, for she knew how wisely and lovingly they would -be trained. - -For two hours each evening Mr. Miller’s house and garden were open to -them, and for the first hour he gave them something to do with their -bodies—gardening, or quoits, or football, or cricket—and for the second -he was at their service to tell them tales or read to them, or take -walks with them, or anything else they pleased. Before they had been a -week with him they all loved him, and would have done anything or given -up anything for him. And he loved them greatly. He believed that every -boy had the making of a hero in him, and he sought to find out how to -develop the best of his nature and his powers. He liked to set the -eleven to some work or play which they liked, and take the twelfth away -where the two could talk confidentially to each other. The boy would -pour out his very soul to his friend, telling him his ambitions, his -troubles, his sins, and his hopes, as he had never told any one before. -And what wise counsel he received in return, what good words to be -treasured in the boy’s heart even after he became a man, no one knew but -God, not even the man or the boy himself. - -Mr. Harris was always very tired after the boys had gone. It was really -a bit of his very life that he gave them. If the heart be not put into -work of this kind very little is accomplished; but if it be heart work -it can only be done at great personal cost to the worker. But he was -always very happy, too, and had usually something to tell Margaret which -she was glad to hear. - -One evening Mr. Harris was walking over the fields with a lad called -Dick Nelson, a bright, mischievous boy, “worth saving at any price,” -Harris said to himself, when a question was put to him of a more direct -character than any which he had ever before been called to answer. They -were talking about men who had made England, especially the warriors and -the statesmen, and at length they mentioned General Gordon. “He would -have done more lasting work if he had been less general and more -Gordon,” said Harris. “He was a very fine man, but I have always wished -that he had not been a soldier. You know, Dick, that is one of my fads. -I don’t like war, but I like Gordon; he was a splendid Christian fellow, -true as steel.” - -“You don’t like him any better because he was a Christian, though, Mr. -Harris, do you?” asked the boy, looking curiously into the grey eyes -beneath the shaggy brows. - -“Don’t I? Indeed, I do,” said Harris, with a kindly smile. - -The lad was thoughtful for a moment too, and then an exciting incident -occurred; for they saw a fox running across a meadow, and of course the -boy must needs chase it. What boy could resist such a chance as that? He -came back hot, but pleased, and ready to endure the banter of his -friend, who had been watching with an indulgent look upon his benevolent -face, and thinking of his own boyhood as if it were but yesterday. After -that they had a talk about amusements; but when that subject had been -dropped, and a silence had fallen between them, the boy suddenly asked, -“Mr. Harris, what do you think about Jesus Christ?” - -Harris replied very gently, “I think He was the greatest and best Man -that ever lived.” - -“But don’t you think, sir,” said his questioner, wistfully, “that He -must have been more than a man to do all the things He did—that is, if -He ever did do them—I suppose we cannot be sure of that.” - -Harris detected the tones of regret in the boy’s voice. “Why cannot we -be sure?” he said. “The writers of the biographies of Jesus Christ are -certainly as much to be believed as any other writers, to say the least -of it; and for my part I have not any doubt that they told the truth -about Him. Dick, my boy, you cannot do without Jesus Christ. He is the -best Friend a man ever had—don’t doubt that; and as for a poor, -hard-working lad like you, why, you will find the world a very dark -place if you try to shut Him out of it.” - -“But I don’t want to,” said Dick. “I like to read about Him. There is -nothing sham about Him, is there, sir?” - -“Sham! There is nothing half so real as Jesus Christ,” and Harris took -off his hat. - -“I am glad you think so,” the boy said gently, putting his hand -affectionately on the arm of his master. - -Young Nelson never forgot this talk, and it influenced his whole life. - -Mr. Harris was half touched, half amused at the incident. He spoke of it -to Margaret that evening, for she kept all his confidences, and -thoroughly understood him. “I am not quite the sceptic I think myself, I -suppose,” he said. “Certainly, the longer I live the more am I impressed -by the strong personality of the marvellous Man of Nazareth. I think His -time is coming nearer; and it will be a happy time, indeed, for the -world. Do you see the signs, Margaret?” - -So they talked together; and presently he asked her to sing “one of the -old, old hymns,” and she sang “Jesus, the very thought of Thee,” and he -joined in as if he felt it. Indeed, that night, after Margaret had left -him, sitting as he loved to sit, with the blinds up, and the moonlight -filling the room, she heard him sing softly the words, which for so many -generations loyal lips have sung to Jesus; and she said to herself, -“Dear Graf! Why does he call himself an unbeliever?” - -In Darentdale those who were joined together in Christian love and -helpfulness had instituted a communion service which was for their -mutual comfort and edification. It was held usually in the house of the -clergyman, but although many church people attended, the number of -Nonconformists was still larger. They did not call it a sacrament, but -“a breaking of bread together,” and “all who loved the Lord Jesus in -sincerity” were invited to be present. A few evenings after the boy’s -question to Mr. Harris the friends were together as usual. The door of -the Vicarage was open, and they were singing a hymn of praise, the sound -of which floated through the garden, and reached the high road. Along -the road Mr. Harris was walking, and he stopped at the gate to listen. -Then he went noiselessly to the room where the meeting was held, and -took his seat at the door. Of course he was at once recognised. After -the hymn was sung a chapter was read, prayer was offered by any who -wished to pray, and the chairman asked any friend who could to speak. - -Mr. Harris rose and said a few words, which came from his heart, and -went to the hearts of others. He told them that he had not been quite -sincere in his profession of lack of faith in Christianity, that he had -believed always in Christ, but only lately in Christians. He said that -he had long ago put his trust in Jesus as the living Saviour, and could -say, “I know in whom I have believed”—although he had not thought it -necessary to join any part of the Church. “But now,” he said, “I have a -great hunger for the communion of saints! Unworthy as I feel myself, -yet, because I love our Lord, I ask you to let me join you in this -service. Will you receive me as one of yourselves? I love my Master, and -I love His brethren, and I crave your prayers and your help. I want to -be taught and strengthened. Let me take the lowest place among you, but -do not shut me out, for I believe that Jesus is the Christ, and that He -loved me, and gave Himself for me.” - -His voice grew rather unsteady—perhaps it was because he saw Margaret -weeping—and he resumed his seat. But the little company stood, and with -one accord they sang, - - Praise God from whom all blessings flow. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - “HIS OWN WAY.” - - -The reason why Mr. Samuel Smart spent that short holiday in Darentdale -became apparent a few weeks afterward when Margaret Miller received a -letter. The letter was as follows:— - -“DEAR MISS MILLER,—Pardon the presumption of an old man, who is a -stranger to you. I knew Captain Dallington, and I once saw you when you -were a little child of three, and since then I have heard of you, and of -the great host of Young Crusaders who, in all parts of the country, are -learning to be good citizens because they are trying to be good -Christians. - -“I am sorry that I have come to the end of my life, because life was -never so well worth living as now, when it is quite the fashion for a -man to give what he has got for the good of his fellows. I have -something which I also wish to give; but every man gives in his own way, -and I know—for I have dreamed of it by day and night—exactly how I wish -my gift to be administered. And I write to you because I have a great -hope that you will help me. - -“Let me tell you a little of myself. I was born in a narrow street in -Bristol, and my childhood’s home was a house of four small rooms. My -father was a bricklayer’s labourer, who earned eighteen shillings a -week. He married early, and there were seven children. My father was a -decent man, who did the best he could, and gave all his earnings to his -wife; but my mother was a poor, incapable creature, who had been a -factory girl from the time when she was ten years old until she was -married, and who had not the least idea how to make the best of the -small means she had. I can remember her as a young woman, with dirty -face and ragged dress and untidy hair, sitting for the most part of the -day on the doorstep or by the fire, gossiping with the neighbours or -reading cheap papers while the breakfast-things were still on the table, -and no dinner was ready for my father when he came home. We lived on -bread bought at the baker’s; we were all dirty and ragged; there was -always a baby, and my mother never seemed anything but miserable and -cross. She used to beat us savagely at times, and though I have often -tried, I do not remember any time when she took me into her arms, or -taught me a useful lesson. And yet she was not what is generally called -a bad woman; she was ignorant and incapable; she had been vain and -uncontrolled, she had married without serious thoughts, and had not the -energy to meet the circumstances of her life, or fulfil its tasks. - -“Our father was kind to us, and I do not think that he quarrelled with -my mother oftener than he could help; he never spent much money in the -public-house; he made his small wages go as far as they could without -his wife’s help, but she never seconded his endeavours, and our home was -as miserable as thousands of other working men’s homes are, and which -are made a thousand times more so by the hopelessness and idleness and -incapacity of the conscienceless women who are in them. - -“We children went very irregularly to school, but began to earn a few -coppers, or to pick up odds and ends of food for ourselves in any way -that offered. I liked the quay better than any place, and used to spend -whole days there, and at last a captain who was going to sea offered to -take me. I ran home to ask my father and mother if I might go. ‘I don’t -care where you go,’ said my mother; ‘go where you like, only don’t -bother me.’ My father went back with me to the captain, and talked with -him, telling him I had no clothes excepting those I wore, and that my -mother was not very strong and could not see to me, and asking the man -to treat me well; then he patted my head and told me to be a good boy, -and gave me a penny. - -“That was the last I saw of them for several years. Then I came back -with the ship, and went to see my people. Two of my brothers and a -sister had died, and my mother looked more miserable and dirty than -ever. I gave her some money but was sorry afterward, for the money was -worse than wasted, and my father was angry, and bade me, when I came -home again, give the money to him and not to my mother. I stayed a few -days at home, but there was no room for me, and after the first day I -felt that no one wanted me; and when the ship sailed again my heart was -hard and bitter, and I had resolved never to trouble my people with my -presence again. - -“That is more than fifty years ago. I am not going to inflict upon you a -detailed biography, nor to tell you how it has come about that the son -of a Bristol bricklayer’s labourer has become a rich man, and is alone -in the world without a single living relative. But so it is. I have been -in England five years; but though I have spared no pains or endeavours, -I can find no trace of my brothers or sisters other than the registers -of their deaths. They seem to have left no children behind them. - -“I am, therefore, free to do as I will with my money; and, naturally, I -should like it to benefit my native land. I have looked at the different -methods of doing good which others have adopted; but I do not quite like -any of them. I could leave a large legacy to a hospital; but it seems to -me better to nurse the poor in their own homes than in big places where -all are strangers. I could buy a people’s park, and present it to some -town which has none: but I have a hope that the future will bring the -people back to the villages. I could give my money to some grand scheme -for providing employment for the unemployed; but the worst of the -unemployed do not want work, and would not do it if they might. So many -benevolences commence at the wrong end of life. It is with the children -that Hope dwells. Your own Young Crusaders are the great makers of the -future, such as we wish it to be. But they are—most of them—working -lads. In a few years they will be falling in love with pretty faces, and -marrying them. And what then? Many girls are still in factories, as vain -and frivolous as girls ever were. What sort of wives will they make for -your Tri-colour Crusaders? How many years will it take for thriftless, -soulless women to undo what you are trying to do? - -“I think if you had wanted money for your Crusade I would have given you -some of mine. I am, however, greatly rejoiced that you do not flood the -country with appeals and begging letters, but that this vast and most -important organisation is, like the great Sunday-school system, carried -on at small cost, which is met by local voluntary contributions. - -“But that which I desire to see accomplished cannot well be done by -existing institutions, or without extra money. - -“My wish is to provide a Training Home for young women who are about to -be married, where they may stay, free of cost, for six months, and be -under the influence of Christian women at the same time that they are -practising such household duties and economies as pertain to the wives -of the poor; and for such only as have no mothers to teach them, or -those flighty young girls who are not willing to be taught. Plenty of -such cases must be known to city missionaries, district visitors, and -all the other kindly souls who look after the poor and take an interest -in girls. - -“Personally, I rejoice in the better wages now paid to the working man. -Whoever helps to make the prosperity of a nation should share in it. But -wages have less to do with the well-being of a family than most people -imagine. Two men are neighbours, they earn the same wages, pay the same -rent, have the same number of children; but in one case the people are -respectable and respected, in the other they are dejected, suspected, -and miserable. What makes the difference? A little bill announcing a -Band of Hope meeting is in the window of one, and a broken pane of glass -in the other. In the one case the man is steady and the woman is -industrious and thrifty, in the other, both man and woman are failures -in life and character. I know that human nature is exceedingly stubborn -and intractable, and that only the Spirit of God can change the heart; -but is not the Spirit always working? Have we not the right to hope that -many giddy young things, who would otherwise rush into married life -quite unprepared for its duties, may, under the influences of love and -happiness, be brought to take more serious views of their -responsibilities? I cannot imagine any better way of serving our country -than by helping to raise the character of the young mothers among the -people. I am casting no slur on the women of England as a whole; no one -has anything but praise for the hosts of loyal, loving, enlightened, -working mothers who are training their sons and daughters for high and -noble futures; but our great weakness and danger are in the multitudes -of other women, and it is the lowest class that is laid upon my thought. - -“But nothing can be done in this matter except by women of courage, -tact, and strong character and goodness. I can find the house and the -money; can you find the organisers and the workers? Will you, dear Miss -Miller, for the love of Christ and your poor miserable young sisters who -do not know Him, undertake the management of the home? and will you love -them and care for them, and teach them what goodness is? I ask you, -partly because you are yourself young, and can therefore understand and -sympathise with girls, and partly because, from all I know of you, I am -assured that you can carry this idea forward to success, and mostly for -another reason, which is my own alone. My friend Smart has told me all -about your private life and character. And I have no hesitation in -saying that if you will do your part I will do mine, and with all -possible speed. A large, substantial homestead near the coast, in the -north-east of Yorkshire, has lately come into my possession. It could be -ready for you in a month. It will accommodate forty persons; and I will -not only pay all the bills, but will give a present of five pounds’ -worth of household utensils to every girl who stays with you six months, -and satisfies you. I have an idea that this bribe may win some who would -not otherwise submit to any process of improvement, however kindly -performed. - -“I am only like many other men of my day in my wish to remain unknown, -and to do this thing anonymously. You may call me ‘Friend Philip’ if you -will; and all our communications had better pass through the hands of my -solicitors—Messrs. Smart, Watkin, and Smart. I cannot but hope that your -reply may be in the affirmative. Think of the lives you may influence, -the homes you may bless; and I pray you help me in this important work. -We shall be the pioneers of the movement. Before many years are passed -all the big cities—London, Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds, and my own -Bristol—will consider a Training Home for Mothers as great a necessity -as a workhouse or a gaol, and will support one out of the rates. This is -surely a crusade for women; and it is worthy of your best powers. But if -you will not undertake it I must find some other means of disposing of -my money.—Believe me, with great respect, yours faithfully, FRIEND -PHILIP.” - -Margaret might have been disposed to question the validity of this -letter but for one from Mr. Smart which accompanied it, and which stated -that the necessary funds for commencing the enterprise had already been -lodged with his firm, subject to her consent to act. She was, naturally, -greatly disturbed by the incident. How could she take up this work when -her hands were full already? And it was not of such a life that she -dreamed. No woman does. She may accept it, when God sends it, and find -it full of wonderful content and exquisite joy; but her early dreams are -of something very different from this. - -Margaret’s thoughts were of John. She hoped to prove that one young -woman was capable of making one young man a good wife—when the time -came. Her pleasantest occupations had to do with economical -housekeeping, and her imaginings were of a bright little home where -hands that love made clever were instead of gold. But in that home, in -her dreams, there was always a seat for John’s mother, who had at last -taken to her arms the Margaret whom she once despised and hated, and a -pang shot through the girl’s heart as she acknowledged that this dream -was as far from realisation as ever. She had declared that she would not -marry John without his mother’s consent, and his mother had shown no -sign of relenting. - -“Perhaps I am not to be happy, and God has sent me this work instead,” -she thought. - -John was to call upon her that evening, but she scarcely knew how to -wait until then. She must show him this letter even before Mr. Harris -saw it, for John had the greater right. And what would he say but what -she had said already, that this strange man who had written to her must -find some one else to use his money and do his work? - -And yet, as Margaret thought the words she corrected herself. “It is -God’s work, I am sure of that,” she said; “but I cannot think He wishes -me to do it.” - -Margaret did with her letter as, many years before, King Hezekiah did -with his. And then she tried to wait patiently. - -In the afternoon it occurred to her that it would be a good plan to -compel Mrs. Hunter to see her and talk to her openly. Naturally Margaret -shrank from the ordeal, but she thought it quite possible that good -might come of it. She would try to tell Mrs. Hunter that she need have -no fear that she would marry her son if that would be to separate him -from his mother, but she would point out to her that she had come to the -parting of the ways, and needed to decide on some action, and then she -would appeal to the mother’s love and see if the proud woman would not -yield a little. - -Poor Margaret! After nerving herself to the effort she entered the -garden of John’s house, and saw Mrs. Hunter at the window. But the -servant informed her that Mrs. Hunter bade her say that she was not at -home. - -So Margaret swallowed her disappointment and returned home. Happily for -her peace of mind, John came early enough to take tea with her. - -“Margaret, my darling,” he said, “I am hungry for your love. I must see -you oftener than once a week, or I shall become a very disagreeable -fellow. What is the matter?” His eyes were searching her face, and love -made them keen. He saw that she was labouring under some excitement. - -She thought she would not tell him quite at first about her visit to his -mother, if at all, for it would only give him pain. - -“I want my tea,” she said; “let us have it cosily together. Even Graf is -out, and I do not expect any one to call. I want to ask you something?” - -“What is it, my Madge?” - -“The name of this wild flower. It is new to me.” - -“Nonsense! It is not at all an uncommon flower. You must be blinded by -love, or you would have seen it before.” - -“Perhaps I am,” said Margaret, demurely. “Another cup?” - -But when the tea was drunk she could wait no longer. - -“I have a letter to show you. It is from a gentleman,” she said, -lightly. - -His brow clouded. “Who is he?” - -“Ah! that is what I do not know. But you need not be angry. He has made -me a proposal; but he is a very old man.” - -They read the letter together. At first John was pleased. - -“It is a capital idea,” he said. “It is just what is wanted. Does not -everybody say that the great design of the Zenana work in India is to -train mothers? And there is not a town of any size in England but has -hundreds of mothers such as this man had.” - -But as he read further he was not so satisfied. - -“What does the fellow mean?” he said. “How perfectly absurd! He asks you -to do it. A pretty thing, indeed! You have something else to do with -your life, Margaret. I want you.” But he was very pale, and a fear had -taken possession of him. - -“The letter has disturbed me a little,” she said; “but the writer surely -cannot mean that the scheme hangs upon my accepting or rejecting the -management of it. I am too young and inexperienced.” - -“Of course you are,” John rejoined, hastily. “But oh, my darling, we -must not wait longer. Why should we? I am of age. I can please myself. I -am not under my mother’s control, and she is wrong to try to thwart me. -We should have to be economical, for I am getting poorer every day, and -the lack of money tries and troubles me greatly; but you would not mind -that. Say you will marry me, and will not let my mother come between -us.” - -“John, dear, I dare not come between you and your mother. You are all -she has. There is no change for the better, is there? I tried to see her -to-day.” - -“You did?” - -“Yes, for I think if she would talk things over with me, she would feel -differently; but the servant told me that she was not at home.” - -“We will see her together, Margaret, and she shall talk with you.” - -“And, perhaps, it will be right for me to let her decide whether or not -I shall undertake this work?” - -“Nay, my darling, why should she decide? It is for you and me to decide, -and we have done it already.” - -But though he spoke confidently there was a great doubt at his heart all -the time, and Margaret had a curious feeling that she would have to go -to that old homestead in Yorkshire—if not willingly, then against her -will. - -“Talk to my cousin Tom about it,” said John, “and also to Arthur -Knight’s friend, Miss Wentworth. It is she who ought to undertake this -thing. She is just the person for it.” - -“Yes, I will see Tom to-morrow, and if she can spare the time we will go -to Miss Wentworth and lay the matter before her.” - -The next day Margaret and Tom had a long talk about it, and Tom was most -enthusiastic. - -“Margaret, I scarcely like to say it, because of John, for I do not know -what he could do without you; but you were made for this work. There is -nothing that so badly needs to be done just now, and God has given you a -very motherly nature on purpose for it. Do not hastily refuse this call. -I think it is from God.” - -“I have not told my grandfather yet, and I must. And we shall hear what -Miss Wentworth says about it. But, Tom, most of all I want to know -whether there is any hope of John’s mother receiving me kindly.” - -“Margaret, I am afraid there is not the very least chance of it. Aunt is -really dreadful about John’s love for you; and it is only right that I -should tell you.” - -“Then, Tom,” said Margaret, slowly, “I think I must do this thing that I -am asked; not that I am able or worthy, but because it is given me to -do. I dare not separate John’s mother from him, and the state of things -that exists at present is really injuring him; so, for his sake—yes, and -for another reason—I feel as if I must say Yes. It is such a splendid -mission to be engaged in.” - -“It is. And if I may help you, Margaret, I will. But we must not be -hasty. We have others to think of.” - -“Yes,” said Margaret; “and I think John’s mother shall decide it for -me.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - A VISIT OF INQUIRY. - - -Many troubles are worse in anticipation than in reality. Mr. Felix -Stapleton had cut the difficult knot of his affairs in the only right -and direct way; and all the haunting spectres that had filled his days -with care, and made his nights hideous, vanished at once. - -He had rebuilt the little mission chapel, which had been pronounced -unsafe; he had made atonement in some way to every man who had paid him -more for a house than it was worth; and he had met his liabilities like -a man and a Christian. - -Of course all this had not been done at small cost to himself. Much time -and thought had been given to his affairs, and competent advice sought -by him. It goes without saying that there had been many consultations at -which his brother and his son assisted, and they were frequently joined -by Mrs. Stapleton and her eldest daughter. In one point they were -decided and united, once for all: whatever came they would not forfeit -their own self-respect, and that of each other; nor would they do what -their consciences, cultivated by Christianity, declared to be wrong in -God’s sight, and dishonourable in the sight of the best men. And having -thus decided it was wonderful how easy and practicable all the rest -became. - -The Granchester folk were considerably surprised, and almost filled with -consternation, when they discovered that Mr. Stapleton’s house and -estate, and even his horses, carriages, and furniture, were for sale; -but he gained immensely from the fact that he was himself selling them, -and not his creditors. His place was so convenient and beautiful, and in -such excellent condition, that it sold exceedingly well, and with little -delay; and the wonder of it all scarcely lasted the proverbial nine -days. The greatest trouble Mr. Stapleton had was to get the money at -once, and pay it away as quickly; for this is not the way in which -business is done in these days; but he was a very determined man, and -even the lawyers had for once to be in a hurry. For a few days he had -much to endure—since it took that time for the people to make up their -minds whether he was a rogue or a hero—and one or two acquaintances -became less genial in their greetings and more cautious in their -dealings with him. But after the meeting of the creditors, when it was -understood what the man had really done, and how he had vindicated his -honour and Christian principle, he was treated with a respect which -almost amounted to veneration. One of the happiest memories of his life, -henceforth, was that of the testimony which the chairman bore to his -uprightness and sustained honour, and of the emphatic approval and -handshakings of the other men. - -And now himself and family were safely ensconced in their pretty country -cottage, and had entered upon their new life. Mr. Stapleton went off -every morning on the outside of the tram, and enjoyed his twopenny ride. -He was always accompanied by his son, and generally by his eldest -daughter, who now gave lessons on the violin, and had several pupils. -Mrs. Stapleton spent an hour in the garden daily, and was assisted by -some of the younger children. The girls were taking lessons in -housekeeping of their mother. The troubles of the family had brought -them all more closely together, and there was more love and brightness -among them than before. - -“Do you feel as if you have come down in the social scale, mother?” -asked Ernest one day. - -“Not in the least,” was the prompt reply. “My friends seem to have -settled in the affirmative the question, ‘Ought we to visit her?’ and -many of them have taken the trouble to come over and call. But they -quite understand that I am too busy now to give much time to social -civilities; and I am prepared to spend the rest of my days in the bosom -of my family.” - -As for Mr. Stapleton, the cloud had been lifted from him, and his step -became once more buoyant and free. And the best of it was that his -courageous example was followed by many other men, who would not have -had strength to be honest if he had not shown them the way. - -Before many weeks had passed an incident occurred which rendered it -possible that he might once more win his way to fortune, although, as he -often declared, if he were a millionaire he would never again live as -extravagantly as he had done; and, indeed, simple life was becoming -fashionable in many quarters. - -The story of Arthur Knight’s removal to Craighelbyl had been frequently -told in the illustrated and other newspapers, and it had excited great -interest. Some manufacturers who were finding the expenses of their -location in London and other large cities almost too heavy to be borne -were fascinated by the idea of getting away into some country district, -where the cost of living and production would be so much less as to -cover in time that of removal. Before long several firms had resolved -upon making a similar venture, and one or two limited liability -companies were formed for the same purpose. - -At a meeting of the managers of some of these companies it was resolved -to ask Felix Stapleton to undertake the requisite buildings; and, as may -be imagined, there was great rejoicing in his home at the news, as also -at the home of Dr. Stapleton; for his brother hastened to inform him, -and to ask his help and advice. “It could not come at a better time for -me,” he said. “Most of my men will go with me anywhere, and will work -for fair wages. The building trade is slack here so I shall have no -difficulty. I am advised to go to Craighelbyl, and see the place for -myself.” - -“Certainly, and I will go with you,” said the doctor. “I was wishing for -just such an opportunity. A daughter of a friend of mine is going -there—Miss Tom Whitwell—and I shall be glad to offer to be her escort. -How soon can you go? There is nothing like seeing for yourself, and I -would lose no time about it if I were you; for Knight’s idea is certain -to prove fruitful seed in more directions than one.” - -“Yes, there is no doubt of it. The day of the big cities is over, at -least in one respect. It has always been a mistake to plant new works in -the metropolis; London is for other purposes than to make kettles, or -shoes, or blankets in. It has been growing more beautiful and healthy -every year. And there are plenty of other places where the common work -of the factory can be better and more cheaply done than in her streets. -It is waste of many kinds to continue immense black works within the -sound of Big Ben. The laws of England will always be made in -Westminster, and her books within a two-mile radius of Paternoster Row, -while round about the Bank and the Exchange King Commerce will reign for -ever; and from the Thames will still go the ships that are to conquer -the world, not with their big guns but with their cargo.” - -“Ah! A cargo of rum and whisky!” - -“No, indeed. Do you suppose that England is going to stand that sort of -thing much longer? I am sure she will not, for, Fred, the Church is -waking up at last!” - -“Yes; I really believe she is.” - -“And, in the meantime, the denizens of ‘darkest London’ are being taken -out by thousands into the light of broad fields and green spaces, and -are being educated to love work by enterprising Englishmen who will -actually _make it pay_.” - -“They are sure to do that if it is to be done.” - -“I believe it is. There are great capacities for work in the ordinary -working man of England, and now, when so often he is given a share in -the profits which he helps to make, we shall be able to hold our own, no -matter who tries to block the way.” - -“Bravo, Felix! I congratulate you on the change of heart and head which -has taken place in you. And when will you go to Craighelbyl?” - -“On Monday. I should like to be at home on Sunday. They have asked me to -preach in our little village in the evening. Of course, I cannot preach -a sermon; but a man ought to have learnt something by his prosperities -and adversities, and all the ways in which God deals with his soul, and -I will gladly tell the people that which has been taught to me. And, -after all, they like that sort of thing. Even the parsons are the more -successful the more they let life teach them, and the more of the real -teachings of life which they put in their sermons. Too many of them -really do not understand the fierce temptations which beset men who are -doing the world’s business, and I suppose that is how it is that a man -may so often attend two services, and yet fail to grasp anything which -will help to keep him steady and true on the Monday.” - -“That is so. And although all congregations like to get from their -ministers what is called an intellectual treat—or, better still, a -spiritual treat—every one needs and appreciates the direct talk of a -practical man. But, Felix, we must keep to business now. Can you spare a -few hours to go over to Mr. Whitwell’s?” - -“Can _you_?” - -“Yes; I will drive across at once if you like. I shall be back in time -to see two patients this evening. It is always a pleasure to go to -Hornby Hall.” - -The master of the Hall was delighted to make the acquaintance of Felix -Stapleton, since he honoured the man, as many others did, for the -fidelity to Christian principles which he had exhibited. The two men had -much in common, and the time flew rapidly while they were together. - -“I shall be greatly indebted to you for taking my daughter under your -charge during her journey,” he said. “And I am sure you will enjoy your -visit. I should like to accompany you, too. But you will not find the -man who is the life and soul of the place there. I see from the papers -that Mr. Knight is trying to be in half-a-dozen places at once. He is -endeavouring to prepare for the next political battle, and there is no -time to lose, for a dissolution is imminent.” - -“Do you think so? That is my own opinion also.” - -“Oh, yes. The Government is in great straits. There must be an appeal to -the country, and that soon.” - -“It will be a big fight.” - -“It will, indeed, and fought on altogether new lines; for the conflict -will be between the Church and the world, and not, as before, between -two parties who themselves make half the difficulties that are supposed -to separate them.” - -“Are the churches ready?” - -“I think they are more nearly ready than ever before. They have made -their influence more surely felt during the last twenty years than at -any other time since the formation of the present British Constitution. -And this has naturally aroused the antagonism of the opposing powers, -who do nothing but sneer at the development of the Christian conscience -in politics; but the result will be that those who are for righteousness -will ignore their minor differences, and stand together in this -contest.” - -“If they do, the right will be victorious. Scourby means to lead the -way,” said Dr. Stapleton. “There is not, I think, the least fear that -Mr. Lavender will be returned again. The people have learned their -lesson thoroughly.” - -“I think so, though it remains to be seen.” - -“I did not tell you, Felix,” said the doctor, addressing his brother, -“that I had the pleasure of making one of a deputation from all the -religious societies of the town, to urge Mr. Whitwell to allow himself -to be nominated.” - -“I am glad to hear it. I need not ask whether you were successful, -because the feeling is strong that no man who is solicited by the united -churches can do other than accept the honour and responsibility.” - -“That is my own feeling,” said Mr. Whitwell. “But for this I should -certainly have declined, for I have no wish whatever to enter -Parliament; but I think in the present crisis every man should put his -patriotism before his own wishes or convenience.” - -“And in your case there can be no doubt of victory.” - -“I am not sure. I believe it will certainly be a hard fight.” - -“I hope every man will vote. There ought to be a law to compel him to do -so,” said Dr. Stapleton. - -“What!” cried his brother, “do you want to still further curtail the -liberty of the subject?” - -“I believe,” said Mr. Whitwell, “that Arthur Knight will have done a -great deal to bring about a better state of things in England. Have you -heard him speak, Mr. Stapleton?” - -“Yes; several times. He is a man of marvellous power and eloquence. What -he says goes directly to the hearts of his hearers. His personality is -so vivid, and his words and gestures are so telling, that it is -difficult to resist him. He sways an audience as few have been able to -do. I am sorry he is not at Craighelbyl.” - -“I should think he will probably be there during your visit,” said -Tom—and then she stopped, as if confused. - -“But he is quite on the other side of the country,” objected her father. - -“Yes? But the country is not a very broad one, and Mr. Knight is a good -traveller. I am sure he would wish to see you, Dr. Stapleton, and would -return, if possible, in time to do the honours of his own place.” - -Mr. Whitwell shook his head. “He is engaged just now on grave business,” -he said. - -“I suppose we are to have another eloquent man in our midst directly—the -young clergyman from Canada?” - -“Macdonald? Yes; I understand that he will rival Knight. It is another -case of Wesley and Whitfield. Only Macdonald is a very staunch -Churchman, and speaks in the interests of the English Church.” - -“What a good thing it is that the Church will hear him!” remarked the -doctor. - -“Dr. Stapleton, I wish you could persuade my friend, Margaret Miller, to -accompany us to Craighelbyl,” said Tom. - -“I could not urge her to do so now, for, although she does not yet know -it, I am afraid that her grandfather is ill.” - -“Mr. Harris ill!” - -“He is not well, certainly, and I am rather anxious about him. I want -him to consult a specialist.” - -“It would be a sad thing for us all if Mr. Harris were ill. We could not -spare him just now.” - -“I hope I may be mistaken. He is a fine man, and my best friend,” said -the doctor. “Felix, my time is up. I shall call for you, Miss Tom, at -nine o’clock on Monday morning. Our train leaves Euston at eleven.” - - -Three of the passengers who travelled into Wales by that train, although -they had as pleasant a journey as any of the rest, and were quite as -talkative, had each some thoughts which were kept entirely to the -thinker, and a profound secret from the others. They were going, as more -than a few other people had gone, in order to see for themselves the new -departure which created so much interest everywhere, and their -conversation was chiefly on this theme. Tom, too, was eager to see her -friend Mary Wythburn, and renew the friendship of the old school days, -and hear all that Mary would tell of her strange experiences since that -morning which she never liked to think about, when she had fled from her -friends rather than be married. Tom was very desirous, too, to introduce -to Mr. Stapleton the two children, Geoff and Sis, and discover how they -liked the new life. Tom’s stories of these prodigies were very amusing, -and helped to while away the tedium of the journey. But that which she -was thinking of the most frequently she told to no one; and perhaps Dr. -Stapleton and his brother were as little confidential as she. - -It was evening when they neared Afon Wen, and saw the beautiful blue sea -spread before them; but Craighelbyl looks its loveliest and best in the -evening lights, and the travellers agreed that a more charming situation -could scarcely have been found. - -Miss Wythburn and her father stood on the platform, and the two children -were beside them. As the train drew up, Sissy shouted, “Aunty Tom, what -have you brought me? I am such a great, good girl now.” - -The child was exceedingly useful, for the meeting might have had some -elements of awkwardness in it if she had not created a diversion. - -Mary hastened forward to greet her friend. “Oh, Tom! how good it is to -see you. But how pale and tired you are! The Welsh air will soon change -all that though. If you had but brought Margaret with you my joy would -have been perfect. How do you do, Dr. Stapleton?” - -The doctor looked so intently into the face that had seldom been absent -from his thoughts that Mary was obliged to turn from his keen gaze in -some confusion. Mr. Wythburn’s pleasure was very great; he had longed -for the sight of an old friend, and he had always liked the doctor. He -wished he might have come to stay for a month; and he promised himself -the greatest possible pleasure in showing him the features of the new -place in which Mr. Wythburn almost felt that he had a share. - -The two girls walked together to talk as girls will; and Tom was soon in -ecstasies about everything. “But I wish very much that Mr. Knight were -at home,” said Mary; “for the place never seems complete without him.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - “FOR CHRIST AND THE PEOPLE!” - - -“And you are really happy, Mary?” - -“As happy as it is possible to be in this world.” - -“And you do not require any one but these people to fill your heart and -life? You are sure that you have never regretted Alfred Greenholme?” - -Mary laughed merrily at the suggestion. “I do regret acting as I did, -Tom; but I thank God every day that instead of being Alfred Greenholme’s -wife I am at work among my dear people in this most beautiful place.” - -“And no doubt Mr. Knight fully appreciates your services?” - -“Mr. Knight appreciates everything that is done to help to make -Craighelbyl what he has set his heart upon its becoming—a model town -occupied by model people. It is not all easy, you know, Tom. We have -some obstreperous ones among us; but there is every inducement to the -people to behave well, because everything is done that can be thought of -to make them comfortable and happy.” - -“And they are certainly a merry set, if one may judge from last night.” - -“Yes; they have developed a capacity for enjoying themselves which is -remarkable when one remembers how they looked when they lived in -Paradise Grove.” - -“I really must congratulate you, Mary, on being able to assist in so -good and great a thing as this. I should have liked the chance myself.” - -“I am sure you would have, Tom. But now tell me of Margaret, and this -new idea of a training home for young housewives.” - -The two friends were together on the shore, with a long afternoon before -them, and much to talk about. Mary wanted to know all that Tom could -tell of Scourby and Darentdale, of old and mutual friends, and of the -success of the new plans for helping the poor to help themselves, which -had been tried for a longer time in the places adjacent to Tom’s home -than anywhere else. When she heard the particulars of the suggestions -contained in the letter which Margaret had received she was delighted, -and almost wished herself back again that she might help. - -“Margaret must undertake the management, and she will do it splendidly,” -she said. “Nothing must stand in the way. It is, of all other missions, -the one that is most needed in England.” - -“I am not at all sure that my Cousin John ought not to stand in the way. -There are always private interests to be considered, and it is not right -that they should be ignored. But if Margaret abides by her resolution -not to marry him until my aunt consents, I quite think she may count -upon several years for this work. But whoever shall attempt it will find -the task bristling with difficulties. Those girls who most need to be -made to think do not wish to; and they will not voluntarily go into -exile during the time of courtship—it is not likely.” - -“But the bribe of five pounds’ worth of furniture will secure many. And -I am sure there must be hosts of girls whose hearts and consciences are -made tender by love, and who would most thankfully embrace such an -opportunity of making themselves more worthy to be wives.” - -“Oh, yes! And it will be a great thing to help these; but I am afraid -the lowest of the low will not be reached.” - -“Even if it be so, it will be much to prevent the class just above the -lowest of the low from sinking down into it. What are you going to do -yourself, Tom? Will you help Margaret?” - -“Yes; I think so,” said Tom. “We have pulled together well, Margaret and -I; but I have not as much of the missionary spirit as she.” - -Mary laughed. “The real truth is, I think, that you will have to be -married. I am sure that in your secret soul you have a great love for -‘quiet household joys,’ shared by somebody.” - -“Shared by whom?” - -“Ah! we shall all know some day.” - -“When?” - -“How can I tell when? Perhaps soon. Certainly at the right time.” - -The days of Tom’s holiday passed very pleasantly in gambols and rambles -with the children, in walks over the hills with Mary and Dr. Stapleton, -and at the different classes which were vigorously carried on in the -delightful “Town of Progress.” Everything which they saw charmed the -visitors, and compelled the Doctor to remark that if Craighelbyls could -be multiplied England would at once deserve the name of Christian, which -years ago she claimed. - -Tom felt all the time that if only Mr. Knight were at home the thing -would be perfect. Since the place owed everything to him, he ought -really to have been there. She wondered many times whether he knew of -her visit, and whether it would make any difference to him if he did; -and, after much thought, she concluded that it would not. He was the one -man in England in whom the hopes of the people were centred; he had been -most kind and pleasant during those days when she had met him in London -and the short visit which he had paid at her father’s house, but it was -not likely that he, of all men, should give a second thought to her. - -And yet she rather resented one little circumstance. She had not felt -the slightest possible interest in the man until he had made her! Why -had he put that something into his manner, and then made no further -sign? - -Still, it was, of course, an indisputable fact that no one could see -Craighelbyl without feeling the keenest interest in Arthur Knight, so -that was, no doubt, the reason why Tom thought of him, not only every -day, but many times during the day. - -In the meantime Mr. Stapleton had been making the most of his time, and -had been assisted by the officials to the information which he desired. -That which he saw he most heartily approved. The buildings were not for -a year’s wear only, but were meant to last, and Mr. Knight had not put -the work into the hands of a contractor that it might be done cheaply, -but he had only cared to have it well done; and, consequently, all that -modern science had established in regard to public buildings, factories, -and the homes of the people had been used in the erection of -Craighelbyl. Mr. Felix Stapleton had his dreams. If he should ever be -able he would himself be the founder of a similar place. - -Neither he nor his brother could spare many days, even for the study of -so interesting a place as Craighelbyl, though the Doctor was -particularly charmed with some matters, and especially with the -experiences of Dr. Armitt, with whom he had many conversations. Mr. -Knight had placed Dr. Armitt at Craighelbyl, not so much that he might -cure the people when they were ill, as keep them well; and, -understanding this, the latter was trying various plans. Once a week he -gave a medical lecture; but his audience was a different one on each of -the four Thursdays of the month. One lecture was to men only, another -was to mothers, one was to children, and the fourth was an ambulance -lecture open to all. The Doctor knew how to make his talks chatty and -humorous; he had always some story to tell which raised a laugh, and he -was listened to the more regularly for that. Then, besides, there were -examinations, and competitions for prizes; and by these means he got -together the majority of the residents. He was also the Sanitary -Inspector of the place, and a merciless examiner he made; so that all -careless occupants of houses had a bad half-hour whenever he visited -them, for he was, as one woman said, “awfully masterful and -tyrant-like.” He was; and, what was more, he could keep it up, so that -it was really less trouble for the men and women to be regularly -particular and attentive to their duties than to clean and turn out -places while the Doctor stood fuming and storming by. And the Doctor did -this part of the work all the more thoroughly because the community was -at present in an entirely healthy condition. - -Dr. Stapleton would have liked to change places with him; and the two -men parted with the understanding that if a second doctor were required -Stapleton should be told of the circumstance. - -He was loth to leave Craighelbyl without that which he had really come -for—a talk with Miss Wythburn; and the time for his departure came -before he had the opportunity. But on the last night of his stay he -spoke to Mary’s father of that which was in his heart. - -“She is so much occupied with Miss Whitwell and with her work that I -have tried in vain to see her alone even for five minutes,” he said. - -“Perhaps Mary has intentionally contrived that it should be so,” said -Mr. Wythburn. “Women are curious creatures, Doctor, and they read men -like a book—or think they do. I don’t think Mary cares to get married to -any one. But you shall have a chance to ask her.” - -Tom Whitwell was not nearly ready to return, and neither could her -friend spare her so soon. It was, therefore, easily managed for the -Doctor to have his opportunity. - -“There need be no beating about the bush,” he said. “I think you must -know what brought me here, Miss Wythburn.” - -“Everybody knows that,” said Mary. “You came to see Craighelbyl.” - -“Yes; but, most of all, I came to see you. I am not vain enough or -stupid enough to suppose that you have ever thought of me since you left -Scourby.” - -“Oh, yes; I have thought of you often, Dr. Stapleton,” said Mary, -gently. - -“But I have thought of you every day, and in spite of myself. I have -tried to forget you, because I have feared that you could not return my -love; but I cannot help myself—there is no other woman in the world for -me.” - -Mary’s eyes filled with tears, for she was so sorry for him. She had -feared this all along, and yet had hoped she might be mistaken. She -liked the Doctor so much too—but that was all. - -“It is very good of you to care for me,” she said, “after all that has -happened; but I am sorry you do, because I can never be married. It -would not be right.” - -The Doctor misunderstood her, and answered angrily, “Why is it not -right, when Greenholme has been married all this time?” - -“I was not thinking of him, but of myself. I have my work here, and am -quite content. It is not every woman who desires to be married, or who -ought to take upon herself the responsibilities of a home. I have chosen -a different lot from many, but it is my own deliberate choice, and I -cannot go back from it.” - -“Pardon me,” said the Doctor, “it is a very unnatural choice. I think -the real truth must be, not that you cannot love, but that you do not -care for me. Your occupation is a noble one, but you would not be -prevented from doing the same kind of work if you were happily married. -Is not much of the philanthropic work of the time done by women whose -hearts are large enough to take in the whole world, and yet are true to -one?” - -But Mary did not wish to pursue that inquiry. - -“It is of no use, Doctor,” she said, “you must accept my decision as -final.” - -Dr. Stapleton did not feel that he could do so, but he judged it better -to say no more. He had still his work, and since the burden of his -brother’s affairs had been lifted from his shoulders, he was much more -happy than before. Moreover, he was trying to live down the unreasonable -prejudice of the people, who quite believed that there was something -wrong about him. Considering all the circumstances of his life, he was -not in a despairing mood when the train that carried him moved out of -the station, and he smiled back pleasantly into the merry face of Miss -Tom Whitwell, and waved her a farewell, which was also a congratulation -upon her extended holiday. - -“I am sorry they have not seen Mr. Knight,” said Tom; “it would have -made their visit much more pleasant.” - -“And yours too,” agreed Mary, glancing at the brown face of her friend; -“perhaps he will return before you leave, Tom. I wish he may, but he is -very busy just now. Father had a letter from him this morning; but it -was only a short one, and full of his hopes about the new General -Election, which is coming. He did not say when he would be back, but we -may hope it will be soon.” - -It was scarcely likely to be; for although Arthur Knight’s personal -interest in his people and their well-being was great, he was even more -solicitous in regard to his country. He rejoiced to know that from a -thousand pulpits and platforms the imperative duty of the Church was -being announced, and the need of Christian union insisted upon. To a -great extent, he knew, and deplored the knowledge, that the Church had -lost her hold upon the masses; and he thought that the coming contest -would be a life and death struggle in more respects than one. Would she -awake and put on her strength, and do the work to which God had -appointed her in the emergency that was at hand? He did not know; but he -hoped. - -If England would send to Westminster a body of picked men, pledged not -to party or to politics, but to Christ and His kingdom, determined to -make short work of even high positions and vested interests if they -stood in the way of righteousness and the people’s good, a body of men -of high character and sound sense and iron resolution, who were afraid -of nothing but the sin that disgraced the nation, a body of men chosen -by the united churches, and well-tested in the places they were to -represent, who would fight together under one banner, “_For Christ and -for the People_,” then, indeed, there was hope for the world and for the -Church. - -But if not? - -During that time of stress it was noticed that Arthur Knight’s voice -rang like a clarion. He spoke as he never had spoken before, and his -urgent thought and impassioned speech roused many thousands of men. -There was coming to be a look of stern determination on the faces of the -people that had seldom been seen during many years; and they were making -a promise—which they meant to keep—to themselves and one another, and -even to God. This is what it was: That they would not rest until -dishonesty and cruelty, drunkenness and impurity, were put away from the -high places and the low places in England. - -Many sneeringly asked, “Do you hope to convert the world by Acts of -Parliament?” and the reply was “No; we do not! Conversion is another -matter; but we will so punish the perpetrators of these wrongs, and so -restrict their power and influence, that they shall not insult the -better sense of the English people as they have so long done in past -years.” - -Committees were formed everywhere, and meetings were held in vestries -and in chapels, for the Church at last realised what her business was, -and meant to do it. - -In the very midst of the rush of meetings Arthur Knight stood aside for -two days and let them go on without him. He disappointed many people; -but he believed that he was doing something of the utmost importance -while absenting himself from the meetings. - -He spent those two days in listening to and talking with the Rev. Peter -Macdonald. - -Mr. Macdonald was the son of a Canadian farmer; and he was himself, to -use his own words, “a priest of the Church of England.” His ancestors -were Scotch, but they had settled in Canada before he was born. They -were nearly all members of the English Episcopal Church, and young Peter -early evinced a marvellous love of Church history. The result of his -study was that he dreamed day and night of what the Church might become -in England if only she were as great and as faithful as she might be. He -grew into a young man of fervid imagination and impassioned speech; and -conducted a mission in Canada which was productive of great good. Then -he longed to visit England, and at length his bishop sent him over with -many letters of introduction, which secured him a welcome in high -places. He was “of the Church Churchy,” as some one told Knight; but he -spoke as few of her sons have been gifted to speak. And the burden of -his speech was this:— - -“You have lost too many of the people! Get the people back. Our Church -is theirs, and they must come home. They threaten us with -disestablishment; _let us disestablish ourselves_. Let the endowments -and the positions go. They are as nothing in value compared with the -people.” - -Knight resolved that he would know this man. He found him at first -rather suspicious of the Dissenter, for such Arthur declared himself to -be, and Knight found some distasteful things in Macdonald; but neither -man was hard to win, and, when they had spent two days together, they -were fast friends, and had resolved to drop all differences, and fight -side by side for Christian unity. - -Instead, therefore, of ignoring each other, or laying plans to thwart -one another, these two young men of many gifts, who had also much -sanctified common-sense between them, resolved to work into each other’s -hands. Each, therefore, revealed his designs for the future in perfect -assurance that his confidence would not be abused. - -At last Macdonald said, “Knight, I am going to introduce you to one who -is a silent spectator of our work—a young man, but the greatest man in -England.” - -Knight rose from his seat in excitement. “The Prince?” he cried; and the -answer was, “Yes, the Prince.” - -Arthur Knight and Peter Macdonald both believed more in peoples than in -princes; but there was at this time in England a young man who had won -great respect and affection for his nobility of character and goodness -of life. He was not a Prince by title, though one of his parents was of -the Royal family; but the people called him “the Prince,” because he was -princely. It was known that he loved the people, as they loved him. His -tastes led him away from the pursuits and pleasures commonly adopted by -his peers, and he was foremost in every enterprise that had for its end -the amelioration of the conditions of the poor. He lived as quietly as -was possible, for rumour declared that some of his relatives were a -little jealous of his growing popularity; but it was impossible for him -to remain in obscurity, for he could not but have a share in the best -things of his time. - -“Do you know the Prince? How have you managed to make his acquaintance?” -inquired Knight. - -“In a very simple fashion. He came to a church in which I was preaching, -and after the service he invited me to his house. If only he had no -Royal blood in him, what a sublime work that man might do in England!” - -“The little Royal blood that he has in him will not hurt him, but do him -good,” said Knight. “You are honoured in having an acquaintance with -him; and do you really mean that he is coming here?” - -“No, I am to take you to him. He wants you to speak freely to him of all -your work, and you will find that his suggestions are worth their weight -in gold, for Solomon’s wisdom has been given to him.” - -A little later the three young men were seated together in a large room, -substantially, but not luxuriously, furnished. There was hope for the -country in such a trio—a descendant of the Royal Family, a son of a -Canadian farmer and a clergyman, and a layman, the son of a rich -manufacturer. That the three should have anything in common was one of -the wonderful signs of those wonderful times; but that they had in -common everything which each held dearest was more remarkable still. - -They conversed together, as young patriots must needs do, of their -country and the services which they desired to render her; and when they -parted, with a strong clasp of the hands and a “God speed you,” each -felt that he had received strength which would nerve him for his future -life whatever duties it might bring. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - YOUNG ENGLAND. - - -As soon as the dissolution of Parliament was declared, more than the -ordinary activity was displayed, and everywhere for a few days the usual -tactics were observed. The two “great parties,” as they were called, -sent representatives to the various towns, and these issued their -addresses, put in various forms of expression, but all meaning the same -thing: “Send me. I am for progress. Your interests will be supported, -and the Millennium will come, if only you do your duty and plump for -me;” or, “Send me. I am a patriot of the true colour, and all that is -most desirable for the Empire will be secured, with peace and -prosperity, if you obey your consciences and plump for me.” - -The immediate occasion of the dissolution was that Parliament was not -sufficiently united in regard to the age at which children should be -allowed to leave school and commence work. The Government and its -supporters said thirteen, the Opposition said fourteen, and got the -larger number of votes. - -In almost all the Parliamentary boroughs the work of the wire-pullers in -London, who tried to dictate to the voters as to the men who were to be -their representatives, was in vain. The towns had already chosen their -men. Almost without exception they were local men, well known to the -people, among whom they bore unblemished characters, and by whom they -were pronounced men of knowledge and ability. In the country, in more -than a few cases, the squire was the favourite candidate because he was -the squire; but the rule everywhere was not for the man to choose the -people, but the people to choose the man. For once in the history of -England the man did not solicit the suffrages of the voters, but they -requested him to allow them to place him in Westminster, in order that -he might serve them. - -It was agreed that there should be no canvassing, and there was -therefore less need than usual of workers and conveyances and all the -old-fashioned methods of impelling men to the poll. - -But there was an organisation, alert and active, which served the good -cause in a way so effective as to astonish the world. It was the society -of the Young Crusaders who came forward at this crisis and showed their -power, not only in their vast numbers, but in their complete discipline. -They took the country by storm. To every political meeting they sent a -representative who could speak, and who asked to be allowed to place the -wishes of the voters of the future before the voters of to-day. “The -laws you make now,” said they, “will affect us much more than they will -you. Ought we not, therefore, to have a voice in the matter?” And the -voice they raised moved men, and made them stand to their principles, -and gave them courage for the conflict. - -They succeeded in getting their colours adopted—“the red, white and blue -of Old England: the red for Battle, the white for Purity, and the blue -for Temperance.” The Crusaders were themselves seen everywhere during -the fray; their fresh young voices cheered and sang; they cried “Shame!” -whenever unfairness, or slander, or untruthfulness characterised a -speech, and shouted God speed when they knew and honoured the speaker. -It was a great change. For many years women had taken some part in the -political battles that had been fought; they had addressed meetings, and -canvassed householders, and driven in their carriages to the scene of -action; but it was a new thing for the lads to take part in an election. -They were at present without votes, but they were learning the duties of -citizens as thoroughly as they were learning their trades, and the real -questions that were at issue were questions in regard to which they were -often less ignorant than their fathers, because they had the advantage -of good, clear-headed, and impartial teachers. - -Of course, many of the newspapers published satirical articles every -day. Were the men of England so fallen, so lost to the sense of their -own manliness, as to be dictated to by a lot of little Sunday-school -boys? The producers of caricature and illustrators of all the comic -papers had a fine time, _Christian Society_ and other journals of a -similar type were more scurrilous than ever, and there was no end to the -sneers at religion and religionists which were produced. - -But, for the most part, those whom they were intended to hurt and -irritate were too busy to take any notice of them, and so went calmly on -their way. The constituencies were most earnestly appealed to not to -send men who were not altogether, as to their private life and -character, the upholders of purity, honesty, and uprightness. And the -greater number of the constituencies responded. A man might be rich, but -if he paid his workmen poorly it would be vain for him to seek the -suffrages of the people. Or he might be clever, and be able to talk -persuasively; but unless his life had been speaking in his favour he -need not hope to represent his fellow-men in Parliament. For there was a -new patriotism for the new times—a patriotism which placed in the -forefront of its political battle a banner, with the old device: -“Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin is a reproach to any people.” - -There were other banners with other legends, but they meant much the -same thing—“No More Working for Starvation Wages,” “No More Unemployed,” -“Send Clean Men to Make Clean Cities,” “For the Women and the Children’s -Sake,” “No More Brute Force,” “A True Man for True Men.” - -Arthur Knight declined the invitations of several cities to represent -them. He thought he could serve his country better outside than inside -of Parliament; and he was probably right, for it was not in him to be in -any sense a political man. But it needs no saying that he was intensely -interested in regard to this election. - -And he was one of the few men who do not mind being laughed at. He -laughed with the laughers when in the daily papers there were articles -intended to be funny with such headings as “A Government of -Grandmothers,” or “Old Maids in Office,” or “The Childishness of -Chivalry.” - -Among the meetings was one that was addressed by a young Crusader -already known to us. - -“Let young Mr. Stapleton talk to us,” shouted a workman, and the -suggestion was so heartily applauded that the lad was called upon by the -Chairman to say a few words. - -He was very nervous, as a boy in such a position ought to be; but his -voice was clear and distinct, and it rang through the meeting, touching -all hearts. - -“One of the rules of our order is that of obedience,” said Ernest, “and -since I am asked to try to speak I must do the best I can, only begging -you to be patient with me, since I am but a boy. The Young Crusaders are -all taking part in this election, because we believe that no previous -Parliament has had such grave issues depending upon it as this which is -now being elected. And we are encouraged, as all the world must be, by -the knowledge that, for the first time, Christian men of all -denominations occupy the same platform. The chosen of the Church will -surely be the chosen of the people. And therefore we pray you to choose -wisely. You are preparing an inheritance for us; let it be one that -shall not bring us shame. We ask of our leaders that they will prove -their power by making England better. We love our country, and, if -necessary, we will fight for her; but we want a Hercules to clean out -all the dark places and lead the people into the light. Help us, for we -are not all strong, by removing from us the temptations which might -cause us to fall. Send men to Parliament everywhere who will care more -for the good name of England and the future well-being of her sons than -for their own riches. You are our fathers. Oh! be great that we may be -proud of you and copy you. Let the cause you espouse be the people’s -cause, and especially the cause of the young people. Is it not more -important for you to secure us than wealth? Keep us on your side, and -make for us only such laws as shall tend for our good. And in return we -will honour you, and work for you, and love you. But my time to talk is -not yet come, and so I will cease trying, only I ask you to remember the -boys when you are making up your next legislature.” - -The young orator had made some long halts between his sentences, and -sometimes it had seemed as if he were reciting from some book which he -had studied; but on the whole he made an excellent impression. - -“There’s a good time coming when a youngster in a jacket can talk like -that,” said a man. - -“Yes,” replied another with a sigh; “the next generation will be better -than we are.” - -“If we do our duty by them! We were left too much to ourselves, you -know. Our grandfathers believed in the stick, and had their boys well in -hand. Our fathers went too much the other way, and didn’t care what -became of us, so long as we got out of their way. But our boys don’t -want to be let alone; they want to be looked after and helped; and if we -do it there will be a fine time to follow ours. I wish I could live to -see it.” - -“Well, anyway, we will put our man in, for he is one of the right sort.” - -“Oh, we shall do that, sure enough.” - -And so they did. - -There was no more bitter struggle anywhere than at Scourby, where Mr. -Whitwell and his friends had resolved upon wresting the seat from Mr. -Richard Lavender, though there were several other places in which the -battle was fought on the same lines. - -In Scourby, since the churches had decided to unite in Christian and -philanthropic endeavour of all kinds, there had been a marked change. -Every building consecrated to the worship of God had been a centre round -which all sorts of plans for ameliorating the condition of the poor had -been tried. One man, at his own expense, had rented a couple of -cottages, and there provided occupations of different kinds for those -who were out of work. Another cottage had been taken by a lady, who kept -it for the use of mothers who might come there to be helped in their -cooking, sewing, or anything else that they had in hand. The committee -of Helpfulness had been so successful that the whole town had been -canvassed, and there was no one in the place who had been overlooked or -disregarded. And, best of all, the children were under control in their -times of play as well as during their school hours. And all this told -upon the working men, on whose votes the election depended; so that, -although it could not even yet be said that they could be got to flock -into the different places of worship, they did not all flock to -public-houses; and they were permeated with the idea that their best -friends and staunchest helpers and supporters were Christians. - -It was strange that they had ever believed otherwise; but many of them -had, and the fact that at last they were being convinced of the truth -was an unspeakable gain. - -There were some lively scenes in Scourby. Mr. Richard Lavender was every -evening in some public-house or other, drinking with the voters, smoking -with them, and promising them everything which they liked to ask. But -the public-house business was not what it used to be. There were so many -other comfortable meeting-places for men in those days, and so many men -meant business of another kind, that the number of votes secured over -the pot and the glass were fewer than ever before. - -Still, there were enough of Lavender’s supporters to have interfered -with the right of free speech if the populace had permitted it. There -was one public meeting called in support of Mr. Whitwell which was the -scene of a disturbance. Men had been primed with beer, and sent on -purpose to disturb the proceedings, though as soon as Mr. Whitwell -appeared a most enthusiastic welcome was accorded him, and the cheers -quite drowned the hootings and the groans. But when the first speaker -commenced it was found that interruptions were to be the order of the -day; and then it was proved that an indignant working man cannot be -insulted with impunity. There were no cries of “Turn him out!” but -whenever in the audience a man endeavoured to prevent a speaker from -being heard, two men quietly seized him, and three or four others -surrounded him, and he was ejected with very little ceremony. Still, -even that was so unpleasant that Mr. Whitwell decided that his election -should not be won by talk at public meetings, and his spoken address was -a very short one. - -“At former political meetings,” he said, “the interrupters have been -lads and young men. Gentlemen, all is well now, for the _youth of -England is with us_. (Cries of “Hurrah!” “Thank God!” and “Don’t be too -sure of that!”) I cannot be too sure! I know. The Coming Race will set -many wrong things right. As for me, I am here not by my own wish, but -yours. Unless you think I am able to carry out your wishes you will not -send me to Westminster as your representative. You know me, for my life -has been before you many years. I do not believe that all men can be -equal; but I believe that no man ought to be poor. I do not think that -my farm ought to be cut up into allotments; but I think that every man -who wants a bit of ground for his own cultivation ought to be able to -hire or purchase it on easy terms, and that the men whom I employ should -get a fair share of the increase. I do not think that labour ought to -tyrannise over capital, or capital over labour, for neither can do -without the other; but I think that capital is for the many rather than -the few. I am sure that every man who is willing to work ought to have -work to do, and that his wages should be sufficient to keep in comfort. -But I also believe that every man ought to work; and if he is lazy, and -will not, then he should be starved until he does. I believe that it is -the duty, as it ought to be pleasure, of every father of a family to -work for his wife and children, and that he should be compelled to do -it. I believe that every brutal husband or father should be dealt with -according to the old law—‘With the measure ye mete, it shall be measured -to you again,’ and that any selfish drunkard who ill-treats a woman or a -child should be made to feel the same pain he has inflicted, to hunger -if he has made another hunger, and to be beaten if he has beaten -another.” Here there was an interruption, and Mr. Whitwell said -distinctly, “Yes, I would have the whip invariably punish cruelty.” Some -one cried, “It unmans a man to thrash him!” and the speaker replied, -“Any man who strikes a woman or a child is unmanned already; he is not a -man, but a coward.” “But,” he continued, “I would make it penal for a -landlord to receive rent for an insanitary house, or for a master to -compel his hands to work in unhealthy conditions; and I would have every -man, woman, and child enjoy some leisure as well as work, some pleasure -as well as duty. And, gentlemen, if a rich English merchant sends out an -unseaworthy ship, or a cargo deliberately intended to ruin a race of -savages, I would have him imprisoned. If a magistrate should take the -part of the rich against the poor, I would have him deposed. In a word, -what I long for, and will do my best to promote, is justice! Down with -hypocrisy, whatever garb it wears! Let us have real men, for the times -demand them. I do not say to you that I am one of these; I only say that -I will try to be; and, if I cannot hasten on the right, at least I will -not hinder it. Gentlemen, I shall say no more at any other time or in -any other place during this contest. The issue shall be as you desire!” - -Dr. Stapleton and Mr. Dallington walked away from the meeting together. - -“The streets are much more quiet than at the last election,” remarked -John; “but that is because the public-houses are now closed at ten, and -night is not made hideous by the shouts of half-drunken men and women.” - -“And the election will be as we wish it, for the same reason,” said the -Doctor. “I am not as advanced as some people in regard to total -abstinence, you know; but this Local Option arrangement is splendid.” - -“Ah! there has been a vote to-day, has there not, to decide whether the -public-houses shall be open or closed on the day of the election?” - -“Yes; and it is decided that they are to be closed.” - -“Really! The majority has it?” - -“Yes; and a very respectable majority it is. The figures were handed to -me as I left the hall. It was not a large vote—a good many abstained -from recording their wishes; but there is no mistake as to the desires -of the community that this issue shall not be befogged by drink.” - -“I am exceedingly glad to hear it. Then there is not a shade of doubt -but that our man will win?” - -“Not a shade!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - PEACE! - - -“Victory all along the lines!” - -This was the triumphant report made from a thousand pulpits on the -Sunday following the elections, and the _Te Deum_ was sung in the -churches with increased fervour. - -“So political!” said the objectors; but since politics had now become a -part of Christianity, why not? - -There was great rejoicing at Scourby and Darentdale and its -neighbourhood, for Mr. Whitwell was duly elected by a majority of -undreamed of magnitude. - -And if they could have understood it, there would have been still -greater gladness in the hearts of a million of the children of the -nation, for the first duty to which the members of the new Parliament -were pledged to address themselves was the amelioration of their -condition. Henceforth, every child’s life was to be considered sacred, -and of priceless value to the State. There were to be no more little -lives sacrificed to the passion of brutal men and women, for it was at -last recognised that every child born in England had a soul, had its -rights, its powers also, and possibilities; and if there were parents -who did not desire to own it and care for it, the country did. How it -was to be paid for, and who was to pay—whether it was to be housed, fed, -and trained by the State, which would recoup itself by certain services -rendered in the future; or whether unwilling parents should be compelled -to work for their own children; also, whether it would be more easy to -secure for the child the love and motherly ministrations which are -absolutely essential to its well-being in the home of its parents—or in -other homes, from parently, but childless, people, were details for the -Government to settle. “It is your duty to solve these and other problems -which are waiting,” said the people to their representatives. “It is our -will that every abuse which is a national disgrace shall be swept away; -and if you have not the ability to do it, or do not care to take the -necessary trouble, we have made a mistake in our choice, and shall call -upon you to vacate the seats which others can more worthily fill.” - -So it was perfectly understood that there were to be no more days weakly -and wickedly wasted by the stupid talk of obstructives, many of whom had -gone to Westminster hitherto for the expressed purpose of preventing the -opposite party from doing anything, since they were not strong enough to -do anything themselves. It had been prophesied years before that when -the Church “meant business” there would be change in many things, and -the Church meant business now, and was determined that henceforth in -England the Houses of Legislature should be composed of real men, with -not one idiot among them. And it will be readily understood that there -were, therefore, great rejoicings among all men and women who were the -true patriots of the land. - -But while these changes, for which, during many years, a silent -preparation had been going on, began to be accomplished, there were the -usual joys and sorrows in the domestic lives of the people. - -Henry Harris recorded his vote early, as did also Dr. Stapleton, and -then they both went away to London, the former to consult the greatest -physician of the day, and the latter to accompany him, and give him such -support as friendship could if he should need it. - -Persons in search of the dramatic elements of our life in its reality -would scarcely find them more developed than in the house of an eminent -doctor. In the waiting-room, where patients gather and await their turn, -what striking contrasts and vivid harmonies there are! Here is an -unloved wife, who yet desperately clings to the life that has so little -to offer here; and there is one so deeply loved that her husband would -part with his all to buy one little year longer which they might spend -together. Here is a man who might drop out of Society at once and never -be missed; and there is another, of whom it is said in the town of his -residence that he cannot possibly be spared, for there is no one, and -even no dozen of men, who could fill his place. Yonder is one for whom -his mother prays: “Oh, take him that he may do no more evil!” And here -another for whom ten thousand people pray, “Oh, spare him that he may -yet further bless us and glorify Thee!” And what breathless suspense -there is in the consulting-room of the great man! No prisoner at the bar -waits for the verdict of the jury with more consuming anxiety than does -the innocent man, whose heart is full of his wife and children, as the -perspiration stands in great drops on his forehead, while the sentence -of hope or of doom is pronounced by the oracle. He may be wrong, and -often is, this man whose fiat has such terrible power; but if he has a -heart it must often know the acutest pangs of sympathy. - -Mr. Harris was pale but calm when Dr. Stapleton introduced him. Really, -he did not share his friend’s fears. It was true that he had suffered -much, but not enough to indicate any disease that might prove fatal. Of -that he felt sure, or thought he did; but his eyes had read the faces of -the men and women who had waited as he had, and his feelings had been -greatly touched. It was more of them than of himself he thought while he -answered the physician’s questions and submitted to his examination. He -was surprised when the Doctor at last said, “If you can spare the time -to wait I should like to call a friend who understands these cases even -better than I.” - -“Certainly I can wait,” replied Harris; “I have no other errand in -London but this.” - -“Then I will see if he can be summoned,” said the Doctor, as he went -towards his telephone. - -“You are not quite sure whether there is anything the matter with me?” -asked Harris. - -“Perfectly sure,” was the reply; “but there may be something that can be -done.” - -The other doctor arrived, and Harris was not kept long in suspense. “I -am sorry to tell you that yours is a hopeless case.” It was put bluntly, -and yet the tones of the man’s voice were as gentle as he could make -them. - -“There is no cure for me?” - -“I am afraid none; at least, we do not know of any.” - -Harris’s face became white to the lips, and he did not speak for a few -seconds. Presently he said, “Very well. Other men have had to bear pain -for many years; what they have done I must do. I suppose it will be -years?” - -“Do you positively wish me to tell you?” - -“Most certainly; the exact truth, as far as you know it.” - -“I am afraid it will not even be months.” - -The doctor considerately left his patient for a few minutes after he had -thus pronounced sentence upon him. Stapleton was waiting anxiously. He -was almost certain there was no hope, and yet it was a keen -disappointment to him when he found his worst fears confirmed. - -“He will bear it like a man,” he said, “for there are few better and -braver men in the world than Harris. I am truly sorry. I shall lose a -friend whom I greatly respect. You can have no idea what a fine fellow -he is!” - -“Has he a wife and children?” - -“No; he has a granddaughter, or a ward, I do not know which—a young lady -who loves and honours him; but all the village in which he lives will -mourn him.” - -“The worst of it is the horrible suffering he must bear.” - -“Ah, yes! It is terrible to think of what it must be before release -comes. How long will it be?” - -“Three or four weeks probably, not more, though he is a strong man, and -I should judge that he has not played fast and loose with his -constitution.” - -When Stapleton joined his friend he was met with the kind smile which -always had a wonderful tenderness and sweetness in it, quite -characteristic of the man. It almost brought tears to Stapleton’s eyes -now, and he silently grasped the hand that was quite firm, and whose -clasp was as true as friendship itself. “It is all right, Stapleton,” he -said. “Do not grieve for me; and let us get home as soon as we can.” - -The short railway ride between London and Darentdale was through a -pretty well-wooded country. It had never appeared so beautiful as now to -the eyes that would soon be closed to it all. The man had loved Nature -in all her moods, and she seemed to put on her most beautiful garments -in which to receive the farewells of her friend. His eyes swam with -tears several times as they looked out at the cool woodland ways, the -green meadows, and the bright blue skies. When the train stopped at one -of the village stations a lark was pouring down a shower of song upon -them. Harris was glad it was so happy, but the whispering leaves seemed -to have more sympathy with him. It was as if they knew that his life was -as transient as theirs, and they were sorry for him as for themselves. -“We shall probably pass away together,” said his thought. “They will -fall to the ground, and so shall I. But I am no leaf, to perish when my -body withers. There is a future for me. Where? I shall soon know. I am -not afraid, for God is love.” - -“I suppose you would rather not talk,” said Dr. Stapleton. - -“Thank you. I have much to think of. I must put my house in order, you -know, since I shall surely die,” he answered. - -And then he thought of Margaret. He must make her future more sure. He -must indeed tell her everything now, and he would see Dallington first -of all. They must be married at once; there was really no reason why -they should not be; and if they were, and they both knew all, he would -have no misgivings in regard to his dear child to make his death the -harder. “Presently,” he reminded himself, “it will be too late to do; I -shall only be able to bear.” - -Margaret’s heart sank with dismay when she saw him. He looked like a man -who, though habitually calm, had been forced into a conflict so bitter -that it had taken his very life from him. She threw her arms around him, -and drew him to a chair, and put his head upon her breast, and kissed -him with the fervour and tenderness of a daughter. He had not told her -that he was ill; but she had feared, and now she knew. - -“Dear, darling, how tired you are!” she said. “I shall fetch a sponge -and bathe your face, and you must have some tea at once. Rest a little -first.” - -He did not speak, but lifted his hand caressingly to her face, and felt -that, but for distressing her, he must have sobbed. - -After partaking of some refreshment, however, he revived, and they both -tried to be cheerful. - -“How have you got on without me to-day?” he asked. “Has there been a -crowd of customers? Have you sold any more of the poets?” - -“At one time the shop was very full,” she answered. “There were three -people in it together, and all talking at once.” - -“How did you manage without assistance? Did you call Ann to help you?” - -“I could not, for Ann was in the midst of one of her most thrilling -stories, which she was recounting to the baker, and I knew that genius -does not like to be interrupted. But I was as adroit as I could be, and -my customers were patient; so we managed fairly. And I have such news -for you—James Peters is engaged.” - -“Really? Well, he’s a nice boy, and deserves a good wife. Who is it that -he has chosen?” - -“Guess!” - -“Nancy Jones? Emma Swift? Louisa Mellars? No? I give it up.” - -“I think it is very ungallant of you not to guess me. Why should it not -be me? I am tall enough and young enough and all the rest enough for -him, I hope.” - -“He knows better than to choose you, Madge. Tell me, now—Jennie Swain? -Well, I never!” - -“But so it is; Jennie has the prize, and a dozen of us have nothing but -the power and privilege of tearing our hair if we please.” - -“You respect your hair, Madge, far too highly to tear it.” - -So they talked on, while a great burden of fear was on Margaret’s heart, -and it seemed to Harris that the shadowy man with the scythe stood -behind his chair. - -There was presently a pause in the conversation; and afterward Harris -resolved to prepare Margaret a little for what was coming. - -“What do you think took me to London this morning, Madge?” he asked. - -“The train, dear.” - -“How clever a guesser _you_ are! And the train was punctual. I went to -see the great Doctor Fulton.” - -“I am glad you did, for Dr. Stapleton is young, and has had -comparatively little experience. Have you brought home some medicine? It -must be time for you to take it.” - -“It is no use to take the medicine. He says that nothing can cure me.” - -“Oh, Graf! Graf! You must not say such a thing as that to me.” - -“But you must know it, my darling, some time, and soon, for it is not -going to be long; and if you love me you will be glad of that, for the -pain of the disease which I have is terrible to bear, and it would be -hard for you to see me suffer.” - -“Oh, my dear, it cannot be! There is surely some other doctor who can do -something. What becomes of all this modern science that boasts itself so -much if it cannot help one in an emergency like this?” - -“It is all right, Madge, dear; a man must die some time. Of course, he -does not want to, and never would, but we all have to, you know. Life is -very short here, but it is continued somewhere—of that I am increasingly -sure.” - -A great darkness came over Margaret. What could she do if this best -friend of hers were to be taken now, when it seemed he could the least -be spared? - -“I will tell you all you ought to know, dear, about yourself, and give -you the keys so that you may find the money you will need, and——” - -A faintness came over him, and he gasped for breath. - -“Oh, not now,” cried Margaret. “Do not distress yourself. I will not -hear anything to-night.” - -“To-morrow, then.” - -“Yes, to-morrow, or next week, or any time. It does not matter about -me.” - -“Margaret, sing to me that hymn of Faber’s— - - “I worship Thee, sweet Will of God, - And all Thy ways adore, - -It will do us both good just now; if we sing the words we shall be able -to feel the sentiment.” - -But Margaret was on her knees by his side, sobbing out her grief. She -soon was ashamed of herself, however. She must bear up for his sake, who -had so much more to bear. - -“I cannot sing, dear,” she said; “but we will each have the book open -before us, and I will play it through.” - -She did so, and then he asked her to read to him. - -“The prayer of Jesus for His disciples, Margaret, and His words to -them—they are for you and for me, dear, as much as for any one else.” - -“Surely.” - -And Margaret read the wonderful words to which we all turn, quite -naturally, in the supreme moments of our lives, and which comfort us as -nothing else can do when death or trouble has forced itself into our -houses and will not be turned out. Margaret knew them by heart, and so -did Henry Harris, and yet they seemed to have new power and grace on -that evening, for the face of Harris was lighted with joy as he -listened. - -“‘Never man spake like this Man,’” he said. “His Sermon on the Mount is -for everyday life, and this, His last address, is for the evening, when -the working day is over and rest is near. I have not done all that I -might have done; but I am really tired, and shall be as glad of my rest -as if I had deserved it. I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for -Thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell in safety. Margaret, what a -marvellous conqueror of men is this Jesus Christ!” - -“Ah, yes!” said Margaret, with glowing eyes; “and all the world must -surely call Him Lord some day.” - -“Someday. Yes. I wonder which day it will be, Margaret. I think we could -sing now, dear. Let it be, ‘Jesu, lover of my soul.’” - -They sang it together—there is no hymn like it for such a time. Harris -had a good bass voice and Margaret a sweet mezzo-soprano; and the hymn -rose softly but melodiously to heaven. It is a fine prayer, and at the -same time a grand ascription of praise. When it was ended, Harris -repeated the collect, “Lighten our darkness,” and Margaret the Lord’s. -Prayer, and both hearts were calmed. - -“It is time you were in bed, dear,” Margaret said; “you are so tired.” - -“Yes, I think I shall sleep well to-night. Hark! the boys in the street -are crying the state of the poll! See if Whitwell is all right, dear.” - -“A magnificent majority,” said Margaret, holding the paper towards him. - -“Hurrah! I am very glad! The old bad times are past. The new aristocracy -of character takes its proper place. The best men, the true kings, whom -God will crown, will be henceforth the rulers of men. I hope you will -live long to enjoy it all, Margaret. As for me I shall be satisfied -when——” - -He fell back, and Margaret thought he had fainted. She called Ann -Johnson to open all the doors, while she tried to restore him. - -John Dallington and Dr. Stapleton at that moment came to bring the news -of the election, and, seeing the door open, entered. - -“He is faint!” cried Margaret, in agony. - -But Dr. Stapleton said, gently, “It is more than faintness. It is -perfect peace.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - FROM DARENTDALE TO HIGH SEATHORPE. - - -All was peace. It was impossible to look upon the stately face and form -of the dead man and not feel that Christ had laid His hand upon the -white brow, and said, “Peace, be still.” The doubts and impatience which -had characterised him in his earlier years were set at rest once for -all. The strife was over, the misgivings were quieted, and if the -questions were not yet answered, the questioner was asleep in deep -repose. - -Margaret could not at first believe that the kind heart which had loved -her, and the lips which had blessed her, were still for ever. - -“Dr. Stapleton, surely you can revive him,” she said, “and bring him -back again to life, if only for a few weeks.” - -“I would if I could, perhaps,” he said; “but no mortal power could do -it, and you should be thankful that he is spared the suffering which we -feared.” - -“For his sake, my darling, you must not mourn,” said John Dallington -tenderly, as he took her in his arms, and tears were in his eyes for her -sorrow. - -“Not mourn!” Had any one else uttered the words Margaret must have felt -that she was being mocked. She would mourn for him through the rest of -her life, for was he not the only father whom she had ever known, the -friend and protector of her infancy and girlhood? Oh, that she had loved -him more, that she had expressed her gratitude more earnestly! And yet -she was sure that he had understood, and was satisfied. - -The inhabitants of Darentdale were greatly shocked by the news of his -death. The familiar figure, the genial voice, the friendly hand had -seemed to belong to the place for ever. - -“Mr. Harris dead! Who will care for us now?” said the children. “There -is no one to take his place,” said the men. “He had a good word for us -all—he understood us,” said the women. There was no home which was not -darkened by the shadow that had fallen, and very few individuals who did -not sympathise with Margaret. - -But there was one person who laughed cruelly at that which brought -sadness to so many. John Dallington took the news to his mother. “He -died suddenly,” he told her, “but the doctors had only that day -pronounced him incurably diseased; so the sudden death was a blessing to -him.” - -“Did the doctors frighten him to death, then?” asked Mrs. Hunter. - -“I do not think he was afraid to die; he was too brave a man for that; -but his heart must have been very weak.” - -“And so my enemy is dead!” said Mrs. Hunter. “I can scarcely believe -it.” - -“He was not your enemy, mother. He was everybody’s friend. If you had -known him you must have known that.” - -“How I hated him!” said Mrs. Hunter. - -“Yes, and it was most absurd of you, mother, for he never injured you in -the least thing.” - -“Oh, yes, indeed, he did! He had my money. What will become of it now? -If he had been a just man he would have bequeathed it to me.” - -John was fast losing patience. This idea which had possessed his mother -was nothing less than a craze. - -“The money was not yours, and never could have been,” he said. “Do be -reasonable! How can you talk of justice, when you are so unjust in your -judgment of him? Oh, little mother, how much happier you would be if you -would only be kind! Do cast out the evil spirit of jealousy which has -poisoned so many years of your life, and see things as they are. There -will come a day when you, too, will need mercy——” - -“As Henry Harris does now.” - -“Yes; and as we shall soon. Be yourself merciful therefore now. He has -gone home to God. He is the Judge, and He only knew all about Mr. -Harris.” - -“Is there a God? He did not believe in one.” - -“How can you say so, mother?” - -“I am not the only one who says so.” - -“No one says so who knew the man. He certainly had what many of us have -not, the Christian spirit of love and helpfulness, which made him the -friend of everybody. But, mother, even if he was as wrong as you think -him, it is time to forgive him now. I wish you would do a kind thing for -me. Do you care for me in the least, my mother?” - -“You know that I care for no one but you, John.” - -“Then do me this kindness. Everybody will be calling on Miss Miller in -this her time of trouble. Will you not call too?” - -“That girl! How dare you ask me!” Mrs. Hunter started up in her fury, -and her eyes blazed forth on her son. Then followed a string of -invectives, and even of curses, such as made John shudder. As he looked -and listened, a great fear entered his heart. Surely his mother must be -going mad! It was impossible in any other way to account for her rage -and hate. She was in a frightful passion; her face was ghastly, her -hands clutched each other, and there was such a baleful light in her -eyes that John was grieved beyond expression. He tried to quiet her, but -it was of no use, and presently he forced her into her own room that the -servants might not hear her ravings. - -Poor John! “There is more trouble coming to me,” he said, and he was -right. - -It is only natural that there should be sorrow when a good man dies; the -world cannot afford to lose him, and the people feel in a sense -orphaned. At Darentdale they had never seen such a day in the memory of -the oldest inhabitant as that of the funeral of Henry Harris. Every shop -was closed, every window had its blind down. No arrangement was made for -a public funeral; but the people obeyed the impulses of their own -hearts, and the highest and the lowest showed their sorrow in every -possible way. The whole village stood around the grave, and sobbed forth -its grief. Positively the only persons who held aloof were Mrs. Hunter -and Mr. William Hunter. - -The Vicar held a service in the church; he was visibly affected as it -proceeded, for he felt that he had lost a friend. At the grave the -service was most impressive; and there was a ring of certainty in the -Vicar’s voice as he pronounced the words which seemed to him to carry -more meaning than ever now. “Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God -of His great mercy to take unto Himself the soul of our dear brother -here departed, we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to -earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the -Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall -change our vile body, that it may be like unto His glorious body, -according to the mighty working, whereby He is able to subdue all things -unto Himself.” The service did not close without earnest words to those -who felt themselves bereaved, urging them to carry on the good work -which Harris had begun, and to copy his character—a character which, the -Vicar declared, must have been founded on the religion of the Lord Jesus -Christ. - -It was not during the funeral, nor even for a day or two afterwards, -that the desolateness of her position forced itself upon Margaret, for -it is never while the body of the beloved one is in the house, and the -mind is forced to lend itself to the customary preparations for the -signs of mourning (stupid enough in themselves, but serviceable in that -they compel the thought from the acute woe of the first terrible -days)—it is never then that the loss is realised in its greatness. When -the last caller has spoken the condolences which he meant to be kind, -and the door is shut, enclosing the empty house, it is then that the -weight of the loss is most crushing. To Margaret everything seemed to -have gone with that presence which had pervaded the house. The shutters -had not been taken down from the windows of the little shop, but -Margaret knew without looking for them where the books were which he -loved, and the papers he had handled. The animals that he had fed looked -at her with wistful eyes that made Margaret weep afresh. The chair in -which he had sat seemed to hold a shadowy form, and Margaret could not -but throw herself beside it and cry— - - “O, for the touch of a vanished hand, - And the sound of a voice that is still!” - -It was not the time for her lover to speak of his love, or to urge its -claims. John felt that all that he could do was to sit sometimes by her -side, that she might get what comfort she could from his presence. She -was so entirely alone in the world that he thought she must consent to -marry him. What else should she do? And as he said this to himself a -great joy of hope filled him. He loved her so greatly—his own beautiful -darling, that he would gladly live with her in this little home, and -leave his own to his mother; or he would take her beyond the seas, and -work for her as a common emigrant, and feel himself a crowned king when -she rewarded him with her love. There was nothing—nothing that he would -not do to possess her; and surely the time was nearer than ever now. - -But a few days afterward a terrible thing happened, which put that for -which he longed even farther away than it had seemed before, and which -would have made a weaker woman than Margaret really ill. - -It was evening, and Ann Johnson had gone to visit some friends, so that -Margaret was left in the house alone. Her thoughts were very sad ones. -She was trying to face her future and arrange her course of action, but -it was very difficult. She shrank from a lonely lot, as every woman -does. And what was she to do? The new work that was waiting for her -seemed less attractive now. The poor girls who needed care and love and -training became less interesting to her mind as she thought of her own -position, and felt that she was herself a poor girl, needing everything. -And, besides, how could she give up the Old House, which her grandfather -had loved, and which belonged to her now? And, on the other hand, how -could she live in it without him? She was not obliged to remain there, -even if she did not accept the other engagement which had been offered -her, for Mr. Harris had property, and had left her with a competency. -But how could she go away and leave John? He had become unutterably dear -to her in this time of her sorrow, for he had been most thoughtful and -kind and strong for her, and she felt that she would have given much if -she might have laid her head upon his shoulder and said, “John, take me -anywhere you please, only do not leave me.” And might she not do this? -Was it right to let Mrs. Hunter keep them apart, and spoil both their -lives? She did not love John as Margaret did, or she would not have made -him unhappy. Surely she must give way at last. Why not now? If only she -could see her and talk to her! - -The front door was opened when Margaret’s thoughts had reached this -point. “Ann is back soon,” she said to herself, and then it was borne in -upon her that it was not Ann who was approaching. Neither was it John. -Who could it be that came so unceremoniously into the house? A nameless -fear possessed her, and she arose to meet her visitor. It was nearly -dark, and the lamps were not yet lighted; but she saw at a glance that -Mrs. Hunter stood before her. - -Mrs. Hunter in that house, unaccompanied, and at that hour! What could -it mean? Margaret held out her hand, and looked her full in the face, -and at that moment the swift conviction that had passed through John’s -mind passed through hers also—Mrs. Hunter had become insane. Hate had -made her mad. - -“Will you take a seat, Mrs. Hunter?” said Margaret, trying not to be -nervous. “I am afraid you must be tired after walking so far. It is a -beautiful night—at least—no—it rains, and I see you are wet. May I help -you to remove your cloak?” - -Mrs. Hunter answered not a word. She sat down wearily in the chair, and -passed her hand over her face; but the next instant she sprang up, and -to Margaret’s surprise—and, it must be confessed, to her terror also—she -seized her by the shoulders. - -“I have you now, you Margaret Miller,” she said in dreadful tones, “and -I shall make you do as I wish, for I will kill you—I will kill you if -you do not! Show me now, instantly, before any one comes, where is the -hidden treasure, the gold that belongs to me and mine, which you have in -this house?” - -Margaret was a strong young woman, with a considerable amount of -physical power, for which at the moment she felt thankful; but the grip -of Mrs. Hunter’s hands upon her was so violent that it was almost -certain that, small as she was, compared with Margaret, she could win a -victory over her opponent if it came to a struggle in deadly earnest. - -“What is there in this house which belongs to you?” said Margaret. “I do -not want to keep anything that is not mine.” - -“But you and that bad man have kept it—ah! I am glad he is dead; and -there is only you now—only you—and you are nothing! Give me my own! -Where is it? I want it for my son—the gold that his uncle had gained, -and which is his by right. The lack of it has ruined us! It has made a -wicked woman of me, and it will make me mad! Give it to me now! Show me -its hiding-place, and I will take it. Do as I tell you, or you shall -die!” - -Margaret said that she did not really know whether she could find it. -And in truth she felt that she would only too gladly give up every coin -there was. It was true, she supposed, that this gold, for which she -cared so little, was the thing which brought so much hate and misery, -and was the real cause of separation between John and his mother, and -also was the secret of her hatred. She would give it to the woman who -wanted it, and then, perhaps, the trouble would be over. - -“Let me get a light,” said Margaret, “and see if I can do as you wish. -It is nearly dark.” - -But Mrs. Hunter held her, and laughed wildly. - -“Ah! you think to escape me, but you shall not. I will go with you while -you get a light. But you do not need a light. I know the chest. Where is -it? Give me the keys. I will hold you till you do.” - -“If you hold me how can I get you the keys?” cried Margaret; and then -she felt herself turn cold with fear, for Mrs. Hunter began screaming -terribly. - -Margaret wondered what she could do. Her nerves had already been very -much shaken, and this seemed really more than she could bear. She would -like to have rushed into the street and summoned help, but she would not -do that for John’s sake; she must pacify and satisfy his mother in some -way, and get her home, and into John’s care before any one knew what had -occurred. As for the money—— - -At that moment Ann Johnson came in. She stared at Mrs. Hunter, and saw -what was the matter. Margaret signed to her to be quiet, but before she -could speak Ann rushed out of the house again, greatly to Margaret’s -vexation. But Ann had seen Mr. Dallington in the village, and had -decided that the right thing was to fetch him. She had the good sense to -speak quietly. - -“Your mother is ill,” she said. “She is at our house. Come directly, but -say nothing about it—we must keep it to ourselves.” - -There is no need to describe the scene which followed—a very painful -one, which the three persons who witnessed it never forgot. Ann showed -herself invaluable in the emergency, and John succeeded at last in -getting his mother home. - -Ann could not quite make up her mind whether Mrs. Hunter was insane or -intoxicated, but she had not much time to consider the question, for -Margaret had borne all that she could bear, and Ann’s hands were full -for the present. - -The next morning Margaret wrote accepting the management of the home for -training young girls for their future life. - -John called in the afternoon, looking so ill that Margaret’s heart ached -for him. She put her arms around him, and touched his forehead with her -lips. - -“Oh, my dear, I wish I could help you,” she said. “Yours is a worse -trouble than mine.” - -“Were you not frightened last night, Margaret?” - -“Yes, I was, and terribly surprised; but I saw at once that Mrs. Hunter -was ill. Is she better to-day?” - -“She is quiet and exhausted. Margaret, what am I to do?” - -“You must take care of her, and nurse her. Let Ann Johnson come and help -you. Mrs. Hunter seemed to like her. I cannot stay here, John, and you -must take this house, and all that is in it. I do not want the money. I -have no use for it, and I think your mother will get better, and look at -things differently, if I am no longer here to irritate her.” - -“I shall want some one to help me.” - -“Yes, you will, dear; but I must not come. It would make her worse if I -were near. Oh, John! John! I wonder why such trouble is allowed to come -to you. I would give my life to help you if I might; but you must bear -it all alone. Perhaps Mrs. Hunter is not really as ill as we fear.” - -“She is worse than I thought her. I am afraid of the future. Is there -hope anywhere? Margaret, you will always love me whatever comes?” - -“Always, always; be very sure of it; and when I may I will come to you. -But for the present you must take this house and the money, and let your -mother do as she likes with it.” - -“You are not exactly a woman of business, my dear,” said John. “You -cannot give up your house and money like this, you know. Neither must -you go away.” - -“Yes, John, I must—for the present, at all events. There is no other way -out of the difficulty.” - -John considered gravely. Love ought to be first, he thought; did not -every one say it was the greatest force in the world? But Duty? John -Dallington and Margaret Miller gave Duty the highest place in their -lives, and both knew that neither could be happy by trying to put even -love itself before it. - -“I can scarcely tell, I do not really know what is right,” said John. “I -could not put my mother into an asylum, unless it should become -absolutely necessary; and neither could I let her be a prisoner in her -own house. And just now I think that she is not in a fit state to be -left without my oversight, and, therefore, it seems necessary for me to -remain at home with her. As for you, my darling, I am afraid it would -not be safe to bring you to my home at present. And yet, how can I let -you go far from me? Cannot you remain here for awhile?” - -“No, John, I will go to High Seathorpe and commence this new work which -has been given me to do. I shall be the better for such an occupation. -It will absorb my thoughts and fill my days with congenial labour. I -wrote this morning accepting the position, and Ann posted the letter.” - -“Very well,” said John, with a sigh. “I suppose we must take life as we -find it. Perhaps things will right themselves, and bring us happiness by -the time that we are too old to enjoy it.” - -Margaret laughed gently. “We are both young,” she said, “and we shall be -faithful to each other. Nor shall we have long to wait. Let us do the -right and leave it. But, John, I must show you that money which your -mother thinks, and I think, ought to be yours. Come and see where it is; -and I hope you will agree with me as to what should be done with it. You -do not want to see it? But you must, please.” - -But John would not be persuaded; and his face flushed with anger. “I -will not see it,” he said. “I want to know nothing whatever about it. I -am sick of it. You ought to put it away in a bank; it is absurd of you -to keep it in the house. If it became known that you had it on the -premises you might be robbed or murdered on account of it. But I don’t -care what becomes of it so long as I never hear of it again. Sometimes -it seems that the only reason why you consent to marry me at all is that -that detestable money may be forced upon me.” - -Margaret turned away with tears in her eyes. John had never spoken to -her so angrily before; and at that moment she felt also as if she did -not care what became of the money. - -“Since we have to part so soon you might be kind to me,” she said; and, -of course, John called himself a brute, and begged her pardon. - -A few days later, Margaret and Ann Johnson locked up the house, and went -into Yorkshire to open the Home which was already prepared for its -purpose. - -Mr. Smart met them at High Seathorpe, a station between Scarborough and -Whitby, and took them to the house. It stood upon the moors, in a -sheltered hollow, with a few brave trees surrounding it, and from its -grounds, as well as from its windows, magnificent sea-views were to be -obtained. - -“I am glad to welcome you, for my client’s sake, Miss Miller,” said Mr. -Smart. “I am afraid he will never be able to see for himself how the -work on which he has set his heart progresses, for he is ill; but it is -a comfort to him that you have consented to come. I think you will like -your surroundings, and High Seathorpe is exceedingly bracing.” - -But Margaret was weary from her journey, and the place looked bleak and -cold in the grey of the evening. Her thoughts went back regretfully to -John, and also to her own cosy little home at Darentdale, so that for a -time she felt sad and fearful of the future, and her powers to endure -it. But when she reached the house a pleasant surprise awaited her. - -Mr. Smart ushered her into a large room, well warmed and lighted, and a -lady came forward, with both hands extended in greeting. - -“Miss Wentworth!” cried Margaret, in surprise. “Is it possible that you -are here! How can that have been brought about?” - -“Ah, my dear, you did not expect to see me. I have brought thirteen of -my girls to start this establishment. You will need me, I know, and I -shall need you too; for girls are much more difficult to manage than -boys. Come to your room, and let me make you feel at home at once.” - -It was a great relief to Margaret to find that not only was Miss -Wentworth at High Seathorpe, but that the work which she had come to -commence was already successfully inaugurated. She looked in at the -girls that night, and saw at a glance that the right ones were there. -When she opened the door one of them was saying: “I don’t care! It isn’t -nice to miss the courting, but my young man is a good fellow, and I mean -to make the most of this chance and learn how to be a real good wife to -him.” - -That little sentence was like a tonic to Margaret; for her sympathy and -interest were at once aroused, and she went away to dream once more of -pleasant hours spent in the service of others. - -The next morning she was ready for work, and before the day had passed -the girls had decided that she was trustworthy, and that they would like -her. One girl confided her love story to her also, and begged that she -would teach her how to cut out and make some shirt collars with her own -hands as a present for _him_. “There’s only one him in the world, you -know, miss,” she said; “though I suppose it is a hymn that may be sung -to the tune of the Old Hundred.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - A LETTER. - - -In the meantime the new Parliament had got to work, and the first thing -it did was to make an appeal to the Churches. This appeal reminded the -followers of Christ that it really rested with them, and not with -Parliament, to bring about the social reforms for which the nation was -crying. Parliament would do the Churches’ will, and make such laws as -they unanimously asked for; but if the Churches were not united -everything would be hindered. Everywhere the country was called upon to -send to those lesser parliaments, town councils, county councils, local -boards, school boards, and all representative bodies, only such men as -were known to uphold and to illustrate in their own lives the principles -and practices of Christianity. The flag of truce, therefore, was -generally uplifted, and beneath it the men of Christ stood side by side -without reference to name or party. - -Proofs were abundant that the Churches were keenly alive to their powers -and possibilities. A great revival had especially taken place in the -Episcopal Church, and it was as much a revival of brotherhood as of -anything. Its clergymen appealed to Nonconformists to help them, and the -response was general. Mr. Macdonald was rousing the people to -fever-heat. At the close of his addresses, when the collection was -taken, it was not unusual to find jewellery on the plates, put there by -ladies whose consciences had been aroused. But this was not the sort of -thing he wanted. Both he and Arthur Knight were seeking not so much to -alleviate the present sorrows of the poor, as to bring about an entire -change in Society; and they scorned this giving of conscience money by -those who, in their eagerness after cheap things or riches for -themselves, had brought the poverty about. Years before, a lady had -written a small booklet entitled, “Only a Factory Girl,” in which she -showed how, in the East-end of London, young people live. “Each house in -these crowded streets contains several families, and in many cases six -or eight people occupy a single room. One of our girls sleeps with a -family of six in one small room, that is let in the daytime to two -women, who are out on the streets all night.” This writer had gone on to -say:—“Factory girls by nature are like other girls; they crave a little -pleasurable excitement, and aspire to personal improvement. Can anything -be done to furnish them with what they need? Easily, if Christian women -will only do it. The need is a great one, but, happily, it is one far -more easily met than many others. All that is necessary is that there -shall be in every neighbourhood where these girls reside an institute to -which they may resort, where they will find instruction and sympathy, -innocent amusement, the society of their companions, and food at a -moderate price. Is it right that when their long and weary day’s work is -done, and they turn out into the streets at night, they should find -nothing open to them but the theatres, the music-halls, and the dancing -saloons, in which they are ever welcome? Is it not sad that, besides -these, the only other places to which they have the entrée are the -‘sing-song’ rooms connected with the larger public-houses—snares and -traps of the evil one to ruin both body and soul? The haunts of vice and -folly are open nightly to our factory girls, but should the Church of -Christ leave it to the world, the flesh, and the devil to care for -them?” - -The Churches and Parliament together answered that question now, as it -had not been answered before, with an emphatic _No_. They were not going -to allow these mothers of the future to be tempted thus. The outcome of -this pamphlet had been the excellent Shaftesbury Institute; for the -writer had pleaded: “We have quite a sufficient number of volunteers to -make the effort a success, and nothing hinders our entering on it except -the lack of premises.” These had been long ago supplied, and excellent -work was carried on within them. But the plea of “lack of premises” was -not now anywhere to be allowed; so men sternly determined. Lack of -premises, when there were churches and chapels with vestries and -school-rooms, which the people’s money had paid for, shut up all the -week? It would have fared ill with any one in the new times who kept the -good work of rescue waiting, while complaining of lack of premises. But -it was such endeavours as those of the author of “Only a Factory Girl” -which had brought the happy change about. - -And the new Parliament passed two short and simple rules which had an -immediate effect. The first provided that no one was to employ a girl in -work of any kind who did not pay her for her labour wages enough to -enable her to live respectably. And the second made it actionable for -any one to take rent without being assured that the rooms were only -occupied by the right number and the right kind of persons. - -Of course, there was a terrific howl from the quarters of vested -interests. But this Parliament was as strong and sturdy as that of -Oliver Cromwell, and a great deal more enlightened; so it simply closed -its ears to all noises, and went straight on, doing its duty. - -Its courage was in nothing more evident than in the very stringent -liquor law which was speedily passed, and which attacked drunkenness as -a deadly disease, and punished those who had been accessories. It also -insisted that for a third offence a drunkard could be taken to a Home -for Inebriates, and kept there until cured. - -Mr. Whitwell was able to meet his new responsibilities. Darentdale was -so near to London, and the rules of the latest House of Commons were so -sensible, that a man was not compelled to spend all the nights in -talking or listening to the talk of others; it was therefore possible -for the Member for Scourby to attend to his duties in Westminster, and -yet not altogether neglect those of his own farm and home. Tom always -met her father on Friday night, and his two leisure days were happy ones -for her as for the rest of his family. Quiet, self-effacing Mrs. -Whitwell could not bring herself to be glad that her husband was a -Member of Parliament, but her daughters were unfeignedly so; and it was -a pleasant sight to see them hovering around him, and questioning him as -to his votes and general conduct in the House. He electrified them one -day with news that they did not expect. - -“Have you read to-day’s paper?” he asked. “Did you see the account of my -speech?” - -“Your speech? Have you been speaking in the House?” - -“Yes; I have, indeed, and my speech was very well received, too. A man -has not much chance to be eloquent now, you know. I had not a new Bill -to bring in, or, of course, I should have been allowed to speak for half -an hour; it is not much one can say in ten minutes, but I said all there -was time to say as forcibly as possible. Some day I mean to introduce -the subject of these Retreats for Girls, and then what a chance I shall -have to make my powers of elocution known!” - -“You will be quite carried away by your own eloquence, dear; but that -will not matter if no one else is,” said Tom, soothingly, moving a -little from her father lest he should punish her for that saucy remark. - -“What did you talk about yesterday?” asked Mrs. Whitwell. - -“The railways. There are men who think they should all belong to the -State. I say they do, since any man may get shares in them, and since -they are managed by a part of the nation for the nation’s good. A -railway that does not serve the public cannot exist, you know; and the -companies are not as rich as they were, now that rates and fares are -lower; but if they were, I have no objection if they do honestly what -they undertake to do.” - -“You are an old Tory, father, whether they call you so or not. You must -know that the railway companies exist for the sole purpose of making -themselves rich. They are nothing but firms in business. All they do for -the people they do because they are compelled, in order to make the -thing pay.” - -“Very well. We are to judge by actions, since we cannot understand -motives. If the companies pay fair wages to their men, and keep faith -with the public, we have no right whatever to interfere with them. -Besides which, we have our hands too full of far more important things -than trying to get money out of the railway business; and that is what I -said yesterday. We do not exist for the purpose of interfering with any -business that is not injurious to the people.” - -“And did the other honourable gentlemen agree with you?” - -“Most of them did. Of course, we need money, since we are anxious to -benefit the people and tax them as little as possible; but we are not -going to be unwise enough to interfere with private interests unless -these clash with the welfare of the commonwealth.” - -“But did not any man get up and declare that railway interests do this, -since they make a few rich at the expense of the many?” asked Tom. - -“No; such a remark was not made.” - -“You are, indeed, a model Parliament.” - -“We are, at least, resolved not to waste time. Who do you think -congratulated me, and expressed his approval of what I had said?” - -“The Prince?” - -“No; almost as great a man as he—Mr. Macdonald.” - -There was a general smile at the mention of his name. - -“Of course that principle of yours would meet with his approbation,” -said Tom, “because of its bearing on other things than railways, and -especially those which touch him most closely. But I am glad Mr. -Macdonald has spoken to you. He must be a man worth knowing.” - -“He is a splendid fellow. I heard him a day or two ago. He addressed -those reverend Church dignitaries at the Conference in words that made -them feel. He besought them to disestablish the Church from the State -for the sake of reestablishing it in the hearts of the people. He -believes that if this were done the Dissenters would come over in whole -congregations.” - -“Does he? He may be a good talker, but he cannot have much knowledge of -human nature,” said Tom, “if he really believes that. Only think of the -numbers of people who would find their occupation gone if they were not -permitted to take part in the management of the affairs of their own -chapel. Life would lose half its interests for them.” - -“But they would be able to help in the management of their own church, -which would come to the same thing.” - -“No; it could not be the same. There would not be space nor opportunity -for half of them; and they would not like to be nobodies after being -important leaders in their own religious communities.” - -“But it is a grand idea,” said Mrs. Whitwell. “One Church, one people.” - -“Too grand for the English constitution,” said one of her daughters. - -“Mr. Macdonald does not think so. And he has been considering this all -his life. It may come, even if we do not live to see it, this one united -Church which is the dream of so many faithful hearts. I should like to -see our own beautiful old place crowded every Sunday, as it would be if -that which Macdonald hopes for should become an accomplished fact.” - -“I say, God grant it!” said Mrs. Whitwell. - -“And we all say Amen,” added her husband. “You will be able to hear for -yourselves what Macdonald thinks, for I have asked him to come and see -us, and speak to the people here; and he says he will.” - -“Oh, father, how could you? He must have invitations to all the best -houses in the land. I believe you think our old hall is a good-enough -place for the entertainment of any one.” - -“Yes, I do; and every one who comes appears satisfied and pleased. I -thought we should have had Mr. Knight with us again before this.” - -Tom did not mention a letter which she had in her pocket at that moment, -and which had given her some pleasure as well as amusement. This was the -letter— - - “DEAR MISS TOM,—As you said I must rite a leter to you all by meself I - will, and Sissy helps me. We like what you sent us verry much, and - Sissy says the appels are nicest of all, and the pares and filbuts - too. Mother thort we should be ill, but we wasn’t, not a bit, nor we - sharnt be if you send us some more. We mist you when you went away, - and it wasnt nice without you; so plees come back as soon as you can. - Mister Nite come to-day. He brort me a book, and Sissy a nedlkase, but - she likes my book best, and says I may have the nedlkase because she - pricks her fingers; but I don’t warnt it. Mother says Mister Nite - looks tired; and I heard her say to Miss Margrit that he expekted to - find you here. I told Sissy, and she arsked him was he sorry you gone, - and he said ‘Yes’; but he says he is com to see you, only she must not - tell, because it is a secrut. Sissy loves Mr. Nite, so she give him - that prutty pictyer you made, and Mister Nite says he shall keep it - for ever-never. It rained that day, so praps the pictyer got wet; but - Sissy says Mister Nite wuddent let it. I speld that word rong. I carnt - spel verry well, so pleese xkuse it; com agan to see us soon.—Your - fekshnut, - - “GEOFF.” - -Mr. Knight did not go to Darentdale as soon as Geoff’s letter led Tom to -expect. But they were all very greatly stirred by the visit of Mr. -Macdonald. He went to Darentdale and to Scourby, and addressed the -people, who were only too glad to have the opportunity of seeing and -hearing him. His mission was the means of a spiritual revival in -England, and Scourby and Darentdale shared in it. His appeals to those -who already professed to hold the Christian faith and live the Christian -life were exceedingly impressive. His cry everywhere was to the Church, -“Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord hath -risen upon thee.” In his own way, and to the members of his own Church, -he delivered much the same message as that of Arthur Knight; and the two -were evidently sent of God to meet the great need of the time. There is -a picture in that unique collection of pictures, all by the hand of one -painter, Wirtz, in Brussels, which frequently served him as a sort of -text. It represents the Man of the Future curiously contemplating the -things that interest the people of the present. He is a big man, and -there is nothing little about him, but he holds in his hand a flag, a -cannon, a pile of money, and a few other things which represent the poor -little aims of so many of the men and women of to-day. He cannot -understand where their power and charm lay. So, said Mr. Macdonald, will -it be with those who realise Christ’s ideal; and he pleaded that it was -not worth while for the Christian to trouble himself about any of those -things. - -For a week he stayed at the Whitwells, every day speaking at some -meeting. Tom was profoundly impressed. Day after day she accompanied him -and her father, and she listened to him with the deepening conviction -that she was herself living on too low a level. He stirred the very -depths of her nature, and it was as if she experienced a new conversion. -She had the opportunity of frequently talking with him, and she learned -to revere the man as if he were a prophet. He seemed to know so much and -to understand her so thoroughly that she half shrank from him even while -she was attracted to him. Among the members of her church religious -things were seldom talked about. She could not remember, since her -confirmation, that the clergyman, whom she yet trusted greatly, had -asked her any personal questions, or had any direct conversation with -her respecting her Christian life and experience; but Mr. Macdonald -could not talk with any one for ten minutes without bringing in the -subject of personal consecration. Tom felt sometimes as if her soul were -bared before him, and he knew all about her. He was a good guide—for -there was nothing of the priest about him—and he had an intense -realisation—as all must have who can arouse others—of the power of the -living Christ; so that his visit to Darentdale was the means of lasting -good. - -“It is as if the very house has been consecrated by his prayers,” said -Mrs. Whitwell. “We have never had as good a man within the walls -before.” - -And, indeed, all the members of the family were the same. Mr. Whitwell, -as he parted from his guest, expressed what the others felt when he -said: “You have brought a spiritual blessing to us all. It is good of -you to visit our small place when you are wanted in all the big towns.” - -“It has been a pleasure to me to visit you, Mr. Whitwell,” he said. “I -had heard of your family from my friend, Arthur Knight, and you have -given me a time of peace in the midst of strenuous labour. I am glad to -know your family too.” - -“They are well worth knowing, especially my youngest, with the masculine -name. She is not by any means a Tomboy, is she?” - -“She is very sweet and womanly,” said Macdonald. “She is, indeed, an -ideal woman. She must be an immense help and comfort to you.” - -“Yes, she is. I cannot tell what I should do without Tom. And she will -be better than ever now, for I think she has heard every sermon you have -preached in the neighbourhood. I am sorry they have been so few. Come to -us again when you can. Like Arthur Knight, you make us think, and do us -good.” - -The two men went to London together, and separated at the railway -terminus, each bent on his work. - -A fortnight later, Mr. Whitwell, with a very grave face, called his -youngest daughter into his study. “Tom, my dear,” he said, “I have a -letter from Mr. Macdonald which has greatly surprised me, and he has -enclosed one for you in it.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. - - -Miss Thomasine Grace Whitwell locked herself in her room, and read twice -over the letter which she had received from the Rev. Peter Macdonald. -The letter—a very short one, but one which went directly to its -purpose—was a manly declaration of the love of its writer. “I have known -you only a short time,” it said, “but I know you well enough to feel -that the greatest joy I could have would be in the knowledge that you -cared for me—a knowledge that would fill me with inspiration for my life -and work. I am not of those who think that a clergyman can better fulfil -his mission by debarring himself from the sweet domestic ties of home -and wife and children. He can, certainly, unless his wife be a real -helpmeet; but if she be, surely he will be the better fitted to help and -sympathise with the dwellers in the multitudes of homes which -Christianity has made possible for the people. I do not pretend that it -is entirely because I have seen your ministry of mercy among your people -that I ask you to come to my help; it is because I love you, and because -it is only since I have known you that the alluring picture of a home of -affection, with a gracious woman at its head, has formed itself in my -mind. It is frequently there now, and always it is of yourself that I -think in connection with it. Will you be good to me, and make the -picture a reality, not because I am worthy, but because you are kind?” - -It goes without saying that Tom was profoundly moved and impressed by -this letter, and equally surprised by it also. “What can such a man as -he see in me that he should care for me?” she asked herself, and the -answer was not forthcoming. She admired and revered Mr. Macdonald -exceedingly. It seemed to Tom that she had never been converted, or -experienced any real religion until she knew him, and listened to his -teachings; but it had never occurred to her that he could be like other -men, or that human love could be essential to his happiness. Tom was a -little disappointed as well as greatly astonished and flattered. - -She knew what her answer must be; and she also knew, though it filled -her with shame to acknowledge it to herself, that the true reason was -because another knight had won her fealty. Why _he_ was silent when she -had expected him to speak she could not tell. She felt sure now, since -months passed and brought neither Arthur Knight nor a word from him, -that her lot would be that of so many other women of her time—a lot -which contained great joy, if not the bliss of which almost every woman -dreams, and the larger ministry of love which embraces many instead of -one. And Tom deliberately chose it for herself now. There was only one -possible person for her; and if he did not wish to share her life, no -one else should. - -We are not going to tell any tales of Tom. She was a sensible girl—too -sensible, perhaps, to waste time and shed tears in useless regrets. And, -moreover, as she often said to herself, “No woman can have everything.” -She would not have liked to give up her share of philanthropic work -which was occupying the best energies of so many of the women of the -day; and she had only to do from compulsion what they did from choice. -Hundreds of educated women deliberately chose to be patriots instead of -parents; and they proved in their own experience that love is not -everything. They wisely saw what—happily for England and the Church—was -being increasingly realised, that fathers and mothers of children are -culpably unfaithful to their trust and duty who are busily engaged in -their endeavour to save other people’s children while their own are -unsaved; and now men and women who had families, instead of being -besieged with requests that they would leave their homes and preach in -the Sunday-school, or help in the Band of Hope, were left to meet the -responsibilities of their state, or, at the most, were asked to receive -and instruct, with the members of their own family, a few other boys and -girls who were not amenable to ordinary efforts. As for Tom, she knew -that it was a pleasure to her to be in the thick of the grand work of -the times, and this self-knowledge came to her aid. - -Her letter to Mr. Macdonald left no doubt as to its sincerity. Tom -showed it to her father before she sent it. - -“Are you sure that this is what you mean, Tom? There is no woman in -England who would not be proud of the honour which you are refusing to -accept,” he said. - -“I know that, father, quite well. Indeed, the honour lies upon me, and -afflicts me night and morn—the burden of this honour unto which I was -not born.” - -“Do not be flippant, my dear; this certainly should be considered -gravely.” - -“Father, don’t you know that I am really grave enough even to satisfy -you? I am not doing this thing hastily. Nothing would induce me to marry -Mr. Macdonald—because I do not care for him, and never could. I respect -him with all my heart, so, you see, there is no room left for love. Read -this letter, please, and see if it will do.” - -Mr. Whitwell drew his daughter to his side, and looked at her with the -anxiety of tenderness. Sometimes he had thought that Tom was not quite -her own merry self, and that there must be a reason for the change. He -told her so; and that little sentence spoken by her father was the most -powerful tonic she could have had. Tom became from that day as -mischievous and merry as ever. - -If Mr. Macdonald received her letter with great disappointment no one -ever knew it. He read it as final; and, after replying to it in a kindly -letter, which Tom kept as one of her treasures, he dismissed the thought -of marriage from his mind, and threw himself unreservedly into his work. - -As Arthur Knight was doing also. - -Mary Wythburn had shared with several other persons the belief that Tom -cared for her cousin, John Dallington, with a regard that was more than -cousinly, and she had imparted this belief to Mr. Knight in all good -faith. - -“But he is engaged,” he had objected. - -“Yes,” said Mary; “but it is doubtful if he and Margaret Miller are ever -married, for the opposition of his mother is very strong, and Margaret’s -life is full of other and larger interests. Mr. Dallington will be -faithful to her if she will let him be; but if she should really break -off the engagement I should expect to see him and Tom married speedily.” - -It was like Mary Wythburn. No one made fewer mistakes in the one great -work among the poor to which she gave her life, and few could have -blundered more in regard to other matters. - -John had more and more trouble with his mother, for hatred had made her -mad. Is not all hatred a species of insanity? Certainly the hatred that -is fed by jealousy and nourished by envy is well calculated to produce -it. Mrs. Hunter made no attempt to hide the disgusting truth. “I hate -her! I hate her!” she said a dozen times every day. John had terrible -misgivings. At present she was not often violent; but her son was afraid -to trust her. And he did for her all that a good son could do; he -neglected his love for her sake; he spent all the time with her that he -could spare from his farm; he read to her, sang to her, played games -with her; and there were times when he hoped that she would at last -become clothed with kindliness, and in her right mind. - -But one night an event occurred which robbed him of that hope. - -He was sleeping soundly, as a tired man who had passed a long day in the -open air ought to do, when he was suddenly awaked by shouts of “Fire!” -He sprang from his bed, and threw up the window. - -“Where is it?” he cried. - -“It is in the village—in the street—will you lend me a horse that I may -fetch the firemen and engine from Scourby?” - -“Certainly. I will be with you in a minute.” - -He hurried down, and found one or two of the men already on the spot; -and in a few moments two horses were carrying men as rapidly as possible -in the direction of Scourby. - -“Whose house can it be, I wonder? But, perhaps, it is no house at all,” -he thought, as he returned to his room and dressed hastily. It was a bad -fire evidently, for the flames were lighting up his place, although the -farm was some distance from the village. He felt that he must go and see -for himself. He went to the door of his mother’s room. It was locked, -and although he listened he could hear no sound, so he concluded she was -sleeping. He asked the housekeeper to be at hand in case Mrs. Hunter -should want anything; and, promising to return early, he started at a -rapid pace for Darentdale. - -“What place is it?” he asked the man whom he left; and the man hesitated -before replying: “It is Mr. Harris’s old house.” - -When John reached it he saw at a glance that the old place was -doomed—there was so much dry wood in it; the floors and wainscots, and -in some of the rooms even the ceilings were all of wood, and it was -blazing most fiercely. “How did it happen?” cried John. - -“Is there any one inside, sir?” asked a dozen persons at once. “We can -find no one. It is too late for rescue if there is.” - -Before John could reply his arm was grasped by a woman whose head and -face were wrapped in a shawl; and he was horrified to recognise his -mother. - -“I hate her! I have burnt her to death in her bed! I hate her!” she -said, first in a whisper and then in a shriek. John seized her, and he -shouted to the people, “There is no one in the house; Miss Miller and -her servant are in Yorkshire. Is it too late to save anything? There are -some valuables there!” - -“We must wait till the engines come,” was the answer. “The house seems -to have been set on fire in several places, and paraffin or spirit of -some kind must have been used.” - -Mrs. Hunter broke into a fiendish laugh. “Yes, I did it,” she said; “and -I have burnt her to death. She was there; I heard her breathe. I have -burnt her to death in her bed. I hate her! I hate her!” - -It was a terrible scene; John dragged his mother away, and one of his -men helped him to get her home, raving mad. - -He heard the engines rattling to the spot. He would like to have -remained, to protect Margaret’s interests, if necessary, but he could -not. He was sick with horror and dread, but he knew that he alone would -be able to manage the mad woman without violence. - -“She will never be sane again,” he said to himself that night. And his -foreboding was correct. She never was. Medical opinion pronounced her -hopelessly insane, and he was obliged, for her own self-preservation, to -allow her to be put under restraint at once, without the delay that -would have been extremely dangerous. - -Margaret was telegraphed for before the fire was out, and she hurried -back to find her home in ruins. - -Everything was gone but the walls. They stood firmly enough at present, -and none but Margaret knew what was concealed in one of them. - -She and Ann Johnson walked about among the ruins, thinking of all the -memories that were associated with them, and their hearts were full of -sorrow. - -“I am glad he died before this happened,” said Ann; “it would have -broken his dear heart, and killed him into the bargain.” - -Margaret felt very desolate as she stood among the ruins. John was not -there; he did not know that she had been sent for; he had not been able -to give a thought even to his love. She could have cried out, not for -him, but for her grandfather, as she always lovingly called him in her -thoughts. - -As soon as it was known in the village that she had arrived, a dozen -offers of hospitality reached her. But best of all Tom Whitwell hastened -down, thinking it possible that she might have arrived. Margaret was -unfeignedly thankful to see her friend. - -“You can do nothing. Come home with me,” said Tom. - -“I must see a magistrate. I have something to tell him,” answered -Margaret. “It is very important, and must be told at once.” - -“There is no magistrate nearer than my father, and he is at Scourby -to-day. What is it, Margaret?” - -“Do you think the walls are safe? There is something inside one of them, -something that belongs to your Cousin John; and I am afraid that if that -wall comes down, all these people would be tempted to take it.” - -Tom looked at her friend as if she thought Margaret must be going mad -too. - -“John also is in great distress,” she said, “for my aunt is—very ill.” - -“Will you drive me to Scourby first, Tom, and let us find your father? I -must have some one to act for me now, for John’s sake,” said Margaret. - -It was well for her that Mr. Whitwell happened not to be in London that -day. Margaret told him her strange story in a few words. It was like -bringing an old-time romance into modern prosaic days. - -“I must not act alone; I must get a brother-magistrate to come with me -and a few policemen,” he said. “Will you go home with Tom, Margaret, and -leave it to me?” - -Margaret was very willing to do that; she had much to hear from Tom, and -much to tell her too; and their confidences were more lengthened than -their drive. - -“Poor John! what a terrible thing it is for him!” she said. “And poor -Mrs. Hunter, too! I think it must have been her mental deficiency which -caused her so to dislike me.” - -Tom could not help smiling, but Margaret did not see the joke, until Tom -said, “I agree with you, dear, that no one in his or her sober senses -could help liking you.” - -“Oh, Tom, how can you joke at such a time?” - -“Indeed, I do not know, Madge, unless it is because of my inherent -wickedness. But I assure you that I do not feel very merry. It is a sad -enough time for us all. You must marry John now, Margaret. You cannot do -otherwise if you have a woman’s heart, or indeed a heart of any sort.” - -“How can I? We have only just commenced our home in Yorkshire, and the -man, whoever he is, will hold me to my agreement. Not that I am -necessary there, for the real, moving spirit of the thing is Miss -Wentworth. And as for that Andromeda Jones, whom Mary sent, she is -invaluable. She will make a most clever woman; she can influence those -girls as none of us can; she knows them and their ways so thoroughly; -and she loves them, and they love her.” - -“I expect she is what she is in consequence of the Craighelbyl training. -That is the place in which good characters are made.” - -“It is one of the places; and our High Seathorpe is another.” - -“How is your enterprise there going to answer, really?” - -“It will do much good to many young women, but it cannot do all. The -girls who are sent are young, but they are not young enough. It is -already too late to do all that we wish. The time to influence girls is -before they become engaged. I should like to hand over the engaged girls -to Miss Wentworth and Drom, with the other valuable assistants whom we -have, and myself to form a home for neglected girls between the ages of -twelve and fourteen; for that is the important age.” - -“Yes, it is; but, you know, Margaret, that girls as well as boys are to -be kept at the ordinary and the technical school now until they are -fourteen. And they are no longer to be trusted to anybody who likes to -take up the teaching profession for a livelihood; some of the best, and -ablest, and highest people of the land are undertaking the work of the -upper standards in the schools.” - -“Yes; I do not forget that, and I am most thankful for it. In a few -years such a place as that at High Seathorpe will surely not be -required. In the meantime, it is needed very greatly, only the worst of -it is that those who need it most will not come to share its -advantages.” - -“I wish they could be compelled. But I do not myself think so highly of -these big Homes, as they are called; they are very different from real -homes, you know, Margaret. If I ever have a home of my own—which I -suppose I never shall have—I should like to keep two rooms for the use -of poor little girls who have come to the turning-point in their lives, -and need a friend.” - -“Yes, I should like that, too,” said Margaret. - -“Very well,” rejoined Tom, “you can have the privilege at once. There -are several unused rooms in the Manor House.” - -It was late at night before Mr. Whitwell reached home. - -“We found your treasure-trove, Margaret,” he said, “and have placed the -contents in safe keeping at my London bank. It was a most astonishing -find. I had no idea that it would prove so valuable. You are a lady of -fortune.” - -“I do not feel that the money is mine, Mr. Whitwell. It belongs to Mr. -Dallington.” - -“No; that it certainly does not. It belongs to you. John’s uncle had -every right to do what he pleased with his own, and the terms of his -will could not have been more explicit than they were. You are his -heiress after Mr. Harris, the house and all that was in it being left -absolutely to you. I am glad that wall was not destroyed; but the thing -that puzzles me is where Captain Dallington got all that money, foreign -and English, and why he chose to hide it in a wall, instead of putting -it in a bank, or investing it in some way, as any other man would have -done. But he was always eccentric. I have been told that even as a boy -he was considered strange, and only a little better than an idiot; and I -think he must have remained so. But whatever may have been his reason, -he was evidently very fond of you. Do not answer me unless you please, -Margaret; but I have often wondered whether you know the secret of his -life and of yours.” - -“No, I do not, and I expect that now I never shall,” said Margaret. “For -some reason—and I am sure it was a good one—my grandfather—Mr. -Harris—never told me. Only on the evening on which he died he promised -that he would; but he was so weak and ill that I begged him to wait -until the next day, and the next day he was gone.” - -“It cannot be helped, my dear, and it does not matter. You are whatever -your life and character make you.” - -“And they could not be better,” said Tom, affectionately. - -“And it will not matter who you were when you are happily married to my -nephew,” continued Mr. Whitwell. “He is so good a fellow that it will be -too bad if you keep him waiting longer. His mother is quite out of the -question now, I am sure of that. And the best medical authority of the -land has declared it to-day, for I met Dr. Stapleton, who told me so. -That will be the way out of the difficulty. If you think this money -ought to be his, what is yours may be made his, in spite of the Married -Women’s Property Act.” - -Margaret returned to Yorkshire the next day without seeing John. She -rightly judged that it was better so. It was doubtful if John would ask -her again to marry him after all his trouble, and especially when he -knew the amount of her possessions. But the long railway ride gave her -time to think; and by the time she reached the Home her mind was fully -made up. - -The place had been speedily got into good working condition, and already -there were thirty girls who had been sent down from London, in order -that they might be prepared for the work that was before them. And there -were as many helpers as could possibly be needed. Miss Wentworth, who -knew London well, and who had spent her life and her money chiefly in -work among women and girls, knew exactly where to find the right women -to help, and the girls who would be the most benefited by their -ministrations. She had entered into the scheme with enthusiasm, and it -was she who was making it a success. - -Her large motherly nature made her very sympathetic. If the truth must -be told, she already loved every inmate in the Home; but she loved -Margaret the most of all, and when the girl laid her head upon her -shoulder, and told her all the history of her life, and confided the -secret about John, she was most tender and kind. - -“My dear child” she said, “you must marry your lover, and at once. Love -is not everything. I do not say it is; but it was meant to occupy the -first place where it has been given at all. This work is beautiful, but -it can go on without you; and no one else can take your place in that -other empty home which needs you so greatly. Now, you must write, and -tell all your story to our eccentric friend—Friend Philip, and I am very -much mistaken if he does not say as I do. I feel sure he will trust in -me, because his lawyer and I are such good friends, and he has seen for -himself how we go on with the work here. Write your letter as simply as -you like; when your story is known the rest will follow.” - -And so it did. The owner of High Seathorpe was ill; and it seemed to him -as he read Margaret’s letter that it was a great thing that she should -make the man whom she loved happy. He had discovered that there were -many other women longing to do the work which he most wished to see -done, and since they were well able to carry out his wishes, he was -perfectly willing to release Margaret, only stipulating that she should -occasionally visit and supervise the institution. - -But Margaret had not waited for his answer before she wrote to John. - -“We are both so lonely and desolate without each other,” she said, “that -if you still wish me to come to you, I will come at any time. Let me try -to comfort you a little; and perhaps we shall both find that we can -still do something for the great world though we live in a little one of -our own.” - -John was not slow in responding to that letter; and a few weeks after -its receipt the two were married quietly from Mr. Whitwell’s home, and -in the old church at Darentdale. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - WAS IT A DREAM? - - -It must not be forgotten that this is a forecast, as well as a story, -and the following is a dream if you prefer to think it so. - -It was about this time that an event occurred which showed the immense -strides upward which the conscience of some of the people had -accomplished. All the British world was electrified by the news that war -was imminent. An insult had been offered to the British flag, and of -course it was said that the honour of the nation was at stake. Some of -the newspapers hastened to magnify the occasion, and fierce articles -called upon the Government to demand satisfaction, unless, indeed, as -the writers declared they half-feared, all the manliness and pluck of -the British nature had died out. Men looked and felt very angry, and not -a few were eager for the fray—especially of those who knew that, however -fiercely the battle raged, they would themselves not be called away from -their own firesides. - -There were many peacemakers; but against them old accusations were made, -and they were scorned as the “Peace-at-any-price party.” They held their -own, and pleaded for unimpassioned consultations and temporising delays; -but they found that the Jingo spirit had been revivified. It was true -that England had the men who, at the expense of the nation, had been -kept in idleness for many years, in case—perhaps in the hope—that war -would break out. She had guns, too; but grave scandals about them had -been whispered, and though many thousands of pounds had lately been -spent upon “the last sweet things” in cannons and torpedoes, it was not -at all certain that these would not fail in the day of trouble because -of bad workmanship and inferior materials. As to the money, she -certainly had not got that. England was painfully paying off year by -year what she could of the enormous debt which she owed on account of -former wars, and the real fact was that she had not a penny which could -be honestly afforded for new ones. But, as usual, many wished to -withhold this truth from the nation’s ears at this moment, and much was -done to make the people forget everything excepting that there was a -stain on the national honour which could only be washed out in a sea of -blood. - -Yet there was one circumstance that made thoughtful men pause. - -Germany had invented a new gun, which was more awful in its power than -anything which had previously been dreamed of. Germany had tried to keep -its own secret, but there was an uneasy feeling abroad that it had been -sold by a money-loving traitor, and more than one other nation was in -possession of it. England did not yet know all that she wished of the -“patented” gun, and the Government was told that the secret must be -purchased at any price. - -But the Government hesitated. The members of this House of Commons were -not for war, but very strongly against it. The men now at the head of -affairs could not bear the thought of the slaughter of thousands of -their brothers. They had been sent to Westminster to govern men, not to -order them to be killed; and, though they could not close their ears to -the clamour of the war party, they maintained an attitude of firmness -that, while it gave great hope to the peaceable, irritated their -opponents. - -Moreover, England’s quarrel was with her neighbour, France. - -Some Frenchmen had gone over a boundary and taken to themselves a bit of -land, which the English had stolen a thousand years ago. They were -ordered off, and refused to go, and had been so very impertinent and -consequential that the English who held the bit of land had appealed for -help and sworn to be revenged. - -It was unfortunate that just at that time, in a little matter of trade -and commerce, France was feeling irritated. Otherwise it is possible -that an apology might have been offered and graciously accepted, and so -the peace have been kept. But France was silent, and English Ministers -were unhappy and anxious. - -“This is a case for arbitration!” said the Government. And so it might -have been if they could have induced the nation to keep quiet and cool -for a little time. But that curious general irritability of temper which -in the world’s history has so often been the cause of mischief, made the -multitude impatient and impassioned at this crisis. The cry for -Arbitration was loud, but the cry for War was louder. And it gathered in -force, day by day, until it seemed overpowering. - -It is humiliating to have to make the confession that even the Church -was not unitedly and entirely for peace. A large section was overwhelmed -with sorrow and disappointment on this account, and most earnestly -seconded the endeavour of the Government; but the men of peace had less -power than they thought they had. They made pathetic appeals to the -nation, but a large part of the nation refused to be moved by them. The -peace-people had soft voices, but the war-sowers were noisy and -clamorous, and drowned the pacific suggestions of the others. The -Government proposed that a council of arbitration should sit in Germany, -and that other nations should be asked to come between the two angered -peoples. But the English war party was in haste, and would not consent -to the delay. “Let us pray,” became the burden of many a sermon; but -“Let us fight!” was the suggestion more in keeping with the popular -temper of the times. - -Public pressure began to be increased. “A war would be good for trade,” -some said. Religion was all very well, but it would not always do to -abide by it. Besides, did not religion uphold war? Of course it did, for -the Bible was a book of battles. The new leaders of the people might be -deposed unless they proved themselves capable of responding to the -popular wish. Some of the newspapers were to blame for the agitation. -There were bloodthirsty leader-writers who were nothing less than -traitors to their country at this juncture. And there were agitators who -still further inflamed the passions of the people, until at last it was -proposed that the “Patriotic Party”—for such the war-makers impudently -called themselves—should form processions in the streets, and even storm -the Houses of Parliament, and compel the Government to obey their will. - -And then _the Prince_ came forward. - -There was no telling what might have happened by this time, but for the -sake of this one relative of the Royal family, who, because of the true -nobility of his character and great lovableness of his disposition, had -been singled out from all the rest and designated significantly “_The -Prince_.” Wherever he appeared the hearts of the people turned to him. -They called him “The Good and the Great”; for he was strangely gifted in -person and ability, and was, moreover, a born ruler of men. He was -certain to occupy the first position in the nation by right of his -singular powers, and though he kept in the background as much as -possible, far-seeing men knew that, not because he was of the Royal -House, but because of the kingly nature, which was God’s gift and not -man’s, he was one of the lights that could not be hid. Everybody loved -him, but mostly the poor, because whenever he had lifted up his voice to -plead it was for them, and because he had taken the trouble to -understand them. It was little wonder that he was beloved by all classes -in England, for, in truth, a princely prince had arisen. - -The Houses of Legislature received a request from the Prince that he -might be permitted to lay before them a suggestion. - -The Upper House, composed now of the new aristocracy, among whom were -the best representatives of the old nobility of England, immediately -decided to send a courteous assurance of welcome to the Prince, and the -Lower House added their response to that of their co-workers. - -When the Prince arrived both Houses united to give him audience. The -scene was indeed worthy of the time, and there is nothing better in the -whole history of England to be perpetuated, in the best way possible to -Art, than that which was enacted then. - -The whole assembly arose as the Prince entered and took his place beside -the Speaker’s chair, deferentially bowing to its occupant. The light of -earnest purpose shone in his eyes, and his voice was clear and strong as -he addressed the assembly. - -“Sir, my lords and gentlemen,—It is known to you that the wisdom of the -ancients is a treasure-trove for modern seekers; and the thought that is -in my heart to-day is one that has passed down to me through a long line -of heroes. I sorrow with my countrymen for the misunderstanding which -has arisen between ourselves and France, and which seems to be -developing into a quarrel that can only be healed by blood. But, sirs, -if war were declared between the two nations, as things are now it would -not be battle, but murder. We want our men for other things than that. -And so does fair France, with her broad fields spread out to the sun, -and her chivalrous men and women with their new ideas of life. In this -quarrel we are the aggrieved, and therefore have the right to declare -war. May we not also choose our mode of battle? Is it necessary—can it -possibly be right—to call out our soldiers, who have no part whatever in -this quarrel, and bid them go over and fight with French soldiers, who -are by no means unfriendly—nay, I will not call it fighting—shall we -allow them to kill each other in cold blood by thousands? It cannot be -right, and it is not necessary. Sir, I have to propose that England -should take the initiative, and request France to allow this dispute to -be settled by single combat of arms, so that one life should suffice and -the many be spared. And I hereby offer myself to you as the -representative of this nation, and declare my willingness and most -earnest desire to meet any man whom France may appoint, and to fight -with him to the death, in the cause of Old England, my own beloved -country, which may God bless and preserve! I make this entreaty because -I know that if I am allowed to have my will, and if I should die for the -nation, the blow that kills me will be also the death-blow to war. You -have not been able to get this quarrel settled by arbitration, but it is -the last time that such a suggestion will be powerless. Gentlemen, the -world needs an object-lesson; let it have it. Here am I, send me; and I -declare to you that by God’s help I will make it impossible that there -should ever again be a European war.” - -The Prince bowed first to the Speaker and then to the members, and -before the latter could recover from their astonishment he sat down. -Then a murmur filled the house, first of applause and next of demur. - -It was noble and brave of him, but it could never be allowed. The Prince -was too dear to the nation—better a thousand lesser men be sacrificed -than he. And, besides, this would be such an antiquated form of warfare; -it would make England ridiculous in the eyes of the world. Nor would -France agree to it. And who had she that was the peer of the Prince whom -England loved? Such things, as soon as the speakers had found their -tongues, were said one after the other, without in the least abating the -resolution of the Prince. He would not be convinced, and he prayed them -not to hinder him. The Republic of France, he was sure, had been growing -to hate war more and more during the last few years; and if Frenchmen -wished to fight, it was certainly not with England. Moreover, the times -were new, and new ideas had taken possession of the people in all -civilised countries. If some, still uncivilised, chose to laugh, what -did it matter, since the quarrel was none of theirs? Let England and -France be satisfied, and nothing more was needed. So said the Prince, -and more than a few agreed with him; and when the time for closing the -debate came a resolution was unanimously passed, thanking the Prince for -his magnanimous offer, and begging him to attend the meeting of the -House on that day week in order to receive the reply of England. - -Next morning the whole country was in a state of ferment. A good many -people tried to laugh off the whole circumstance as if it were something -too absurd to be worthy of sober consideration. But it was soberly -considered none the less; and it was soon apparent that a very large -proportion of the English people came to feel that the Prince’s offer -ought to be accepted. Not at first. At first there was a universal howl -against it. There were many men whose names were mentioned as far more -suitable for the sacrifice than he. But though the nation could compel -fifty thousand people to fight at its command, it was quite impossible -for them to compel any one man to do so; and though volunteers were not -wanting, the Prince would not yield. - -The New Party was unanimous in the opinion that the Prince should be -allowed to have his will, if France were willing. They loved the Prince -as dearly as the rest, but they saw that because his life was so -precious, it was the one to be forfeited. Its value would make it -acceptable to the French nation, and the fact that the Prince would -fight any man France might send would go far to pacify that -high-spirited people. Moreover, if the Prince were killed, his death -would be more mighty than any other force could possibly be toward that -on which their hearts were set, the abolition and extermination of war. - -That week seemed to fly by. At its expiration the Prince duly presented -himself to receive the nation’s reply to his proposition. Never was a -vote more solemnly taken than that which decided the issue at stake. It -was not a unanimous vote; but that the Prince should fight this battle -of his country was decided by an overwhelming majority. - -The subject had been rigorously excluded from the French Parliament -until it was formally laid before it in official despatches from -England, but naturally it had been well discussed in every other -gathering, small or large, of the French people. There was, therefore, -little need of delay; but a week was asked and given before a final -answer was decided upon. At length it was sent, and the whole world knew -that the quarrel of two great nations was to be decided by two of their -greatest sons. - -A request was sent in that the number should be augmented, and that ten -persons on each side should fight, but that was overruled, and the two -nations proceeded to fix the date of the most memorable duel that had -ever been fought. - -The Prince asked for a week, but the French proposed that it should be a -month, in order to give each man time to become perfect in the use of -the sword; for both the Prince and his antagonist declared the sword to -be the only weapon for the occasion. It had been easy to find a man in -chivalrous France. Indeed, there were so many volunteers that it was -necessary to decide the matter by lot. And, strangely enough, the lot -fell to Bayard, a descendant of the noble man whom even to-day France -delights to honour. - -The two young men spent the month in strict retirement, each setting his -own affairs in order. There was a great wish that the Prince might be -seen by the people, but this he refused. Also the date on which he would -set out on his journey was kept a secret; for there was a fear that the -populace would prevent by force the consummation of the idea. It had -been settled that the fight was to be on French soil, and in some spot -as far as possible removed from human habitations. It was to take place -in the morning of a day, the date of which, with all other details, was -settled by the two nations. - -Of course the papers were full of it. Every little scrap of information -that could be gained was printed in large type and eagerly read by the -people. As the time drew near the whole thing was felt by many to be -intolerable. There was something so cold-blooded about it that it -appeared a much more awful thing for these two lives to be lost than for -two armies to be annihilated. Foreign newspapers were especially severe, -and many a comic sketch of the two nations gone mad came to England and -went to France. Most foreigners appeared to regard it as a fiasco, and -declared that the battle of two would never occur. But, on the other -hand, a great many people were determined that it should, if only to -save the two peoples from being ridiculous in the eyes of each other; -and there were some spirited articles written to show up the absurdity -of the false sentiment of pity which could have borne a wholesale -massacre, but could not endure a single duel. - -The month seemed as long as two, but it wore away, though slowly; -indeed, the last few days were all too short. The people were determined -that their Prince should not go quietly out from their midst, and for -several days Buckingham Palace was watched by crowds that refused to be -dispersed, and stood quietly through the days and nights to wait their -chance. The multitude was augmented every day. At last it grew so -enormous that fears were entertained by the authorities of a catastrophe -of some kind. The police was insufficient, and the soldiers were told to -lie in readiness. - -On the evening before his departure the Prince caused the time to be -made known, and it was decided to form a triumphal procession to escort -him to the coast, the like of which had never been seen before. It could -not be allowed that all the pomp and glitter of battle should be -omitted, and the Prince consented to the martial music and the guard. - -The best regiments were chosen, and it was in the midst of the finest -English soldiers that the Prince rode through London. He looked every -inch a hero, full of courage and life. The crowds grew wild with -enthusiasm as they saw him, and their shouts rent the air. The band -played the National Anthem and “Rule Britannia,” and there was a great -cry, which was taken up by tens of thousands—_Come back safely, and we -will make you king!_ In front of St. Paul’s a halt was made, and from -the steps the Prince spoke to the people. - -“I am going glad of heart to fight this battle for you,” he said. “I do -not believe what is told me, that if I fall you will hate the French -people more than ever. God forbid! Hate war, and make up your minds that -this shall be the last blood shed in the cause of any quarrel between -the two nations. Take away the sting of death from me by giving me a -pledge, I pray you, that you will not revenge my death, and that -hereafter England will set the example of arbitration, as she has now -done of single combat.” - -A shout of approbation rent the air. Then there was a cry, “Into the -Cathedral!” and the Prince entered, and all else who could. There was no -rioting among the people—the occasion was too solemn for that—and they -waited patiently. Was it by accident that it was the time for the -morning service? A great hush fell upon the throng, and never before was -there so imposing a scene as then, all the more so because it was -unpremeditated. When the anthem was sung a thrill went through the -assembly, for the clear notes of a boy’s voice rang out the significant -words, “I know that my Redeemer liveth!” Men were not ashamed of their -tears that day. Who could help shedding them? - -But the Prince was not one of the weepers. His eyes shone with a lustre -that told of the high thoughts that filled his soul, and his steadfast -heart feared nothing. When he came out of the cathedral, and cast his -eyes over its proportions, there was a smile upon his lips, though he -knew how probable it was that he had seen the building for the last -time. - -All the way to Dover crowds of people attended him or flocked near to -get a glimpse of his benignant face. When at last the sea was in sight -he was glad, for the lengthened strain was beginning to tell upon him. - -The ship was decorated with flags, and some girls came forward to strew -flowers in his path. - -The Prince thanked the soldiers for their escort, and urged them to give -the weight of their influence to the peace party. “Men are wanted,” he -said, “for other things than to slay and be slain. If the armies were -disbanded, and the soldiers would learn the arts of peace, a better day -would dawn for the world. You could go _home_. God bless the homes of -England!” - -Never was vessel watched by so many eyes as this, which seemed to fly -across the Channel. Other ships hastened after it, and a thousand -prayers went up that the Prince might come again to the people who loved -him, and that the battle might be decided in his favour. - -They were asking the same in France for their Bayard, who had suddenly -become their hero. - -But is not this prayer, “God be on my side,” characteristic of every -fight? - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - WAS IT EXPEDIENT THAT ONE SHOULD DIE? - - -Our story has dealt with the people rather than with the upper classes; -but when a detailed history of these times shall be written, one of the -foremost places will certainly be given to the Prince. He had worked -quietly (the Society journals had kindly left him very much alone), and -he was, besides, only a young man, but his influence amongst the -aristocratic classes of England had been immeasurably great. His mother -was of the Royal family, but his father was a commoner, and he seemed to -have been born to such a heritage of sympathy as could not be confined -to any class. He had a passion for philanthropy, but his love of justice -was even stronger still. He regarded the rights of others, as he did his -own; and nothing could make him believe that England ought, or was -obliged, to have within her borders a million of people in poverty. But -the way out was by the gate of work and wages, and not alms; and so sure -was he of this that it was frequently remarked of him, “The Prince gives -nothing away.” What he gave, how he gave it, and to whom, were his own -secrets, and he kept them; but every one knew that in the length and -breadth of the land none was more really a friend to the poor than he. -Nor had any done more to convince his class that they who owned much of -the wealth of the land had no right to satisfy their consciences by -gifts of soup and coals to the poor, but that it was their duty to find -work and pay wages. He was a doughty champion who was always ready to -fight for the lowest; and his own people loved him the more because he -spoke the truth to them in tones that there was no mistaking. - -The age, that was rich in valiant young men, had none more true, and -honourable, and kingly than this man who had craved so earnestly to be -allowed to die for his country. - -It is needless to say that the New Tournament occupied both public and -private attention, to the exclusion of all other topics; until, if only -for the sake of relieving the strain, which every day became more -intolerable, everybody hoped that the matter would be decided speedily. -And, indeed, there was little reason for delay, excepting in the -circumstance that the two young men had asked for a week in which to -become better acquainted with each other. - -What passed between them was never known; only a written document, -signed by both of them, and containing reasons why the two nations -should trust each other, gave some indication of the themes on which -they conversed. - -It was a lovely spot among the hills that had been chosen for the fight; -and thither on a bright morning a great multitude repaired. Medical men -were on the spot, and several of the most eminent Judges of the two -countries. Many people went with the hope still in their hearts that the -contest would not really be to the death; but no such hope or wish was -in the mind of either of the brave knights who had come to fight for his -country. - -“Let the arrangements be as simple as possible,” the Englishman had -said. But no pomp or show could have added to the awful solemnity of the -occasion. As the two men faced each other, looking so resolute and -brave, and yet so gentle, a thousand eyes grew dim. They shook hands -cordially with each other, and spent a few moments in private -conversation. It was hoped that they would address the assembly, which, -indeed, consisted of the greatest men of all nations, and the hope was -not disappointed. - -“It is no time for words,” said the English Prince, “but the occasion is -a marked one, and perhaps words, however poor, may prove to be seeds -which shall hereafter grow into a harvest. The brave knight of France -has become my dear friend, and therefore there is no enmity, but only -love to each other in our hearts this morning; and our friendship is -none the less strong because one of us will certainly kill the other. We -are both more willing to-day than ever to sacrifice our lives in the -cause of peace and in the interests of our country. I am for England -with all my heart, and to the very backbone—brave, heroic, Christian -England. She has been spoilt by some faults, but the morning of her -regeneration has arrived, and I call upon you Englishmen, in God’s name, -to be worthy of her traditions, and arise to the demands of the new era -which is upon us.” Then, in a voice that pierced to the outer edge of -the crowd, he cried, “Never more shall war mean the slaying of -thousands! And _God bless England_!” - -The Frenchman’s speech was longer, and it called upon his countrymen to -live and die for fair France. - -Then the trumpeters gave the signal for the contest to begin, and men -held their breath—watching with their souls in their eyes. There was a -little play and parrying at first; but presently the men fought in -deadly earnest, and their flashing swords became stained with blood. -Suddenly there was a halt—the Prince’s sword had snapped, and a new one -was required. Then there was a cry for intervention. “Let the contest -cease! Enough! Enough!” But the young men would not yield to that cry, -and again there was a clashing of swords. The moments seemed ages to -those who looked on, and several fainted and could gaze no longer; -indeed, the excitement proved too great to be endured. But the contest -was not to be prolonged. Presently one fell from his horse, wounded -fatally. - -It was the English Prince. - -The doctors were at his side in a moment. He could still speak a few -words. - -“The wound is fatal, I know,” he said. “Bayard, where are you?” The -Frenchman took the Prince in his arms and put his head on his shoulder. - -“Forgive me,” he said, hastily. - -“Oh, do not ask that! We have no quarrel—the real fighters in a real war -seldom have. God bless you, Bayard, and your country—_Vive la France_! -But God bless my country too—old England! destined to be the leader in -peace and righteousness yet. God bless England! Bayard, say it, too.” -And the Frenchman repeated the words. Then the Prince whispered, “Better -I than you. To be with Christ.” - -And so he died. - - * * * * * - -A sense of infinite loss fell upon England, in which the whole world had -some share. And with the loss came not only pain, but anger. - -The Prince’s family had the worst of the sorrow to bear. And the upper -classes were loud in their execration. “Better a host were slain than -he,” they said. And the masses for once felt with them. So did the army, -which was likely, everybody thought, to give trouble in the future. The -time was altogether a dangerous one, and a terrible revolution might -have been brought in with blood but for those leaders of the people who -were able in the emergency to possess their souls in quietness. America -was saved once by the voice of a man who cried, “God is not dead, though -Lincoln is!” And now in England there were ten thousand men who, in -pulpits, on platforms, and through the Press, said the same thing. And -they earnestly besought their hearers to help in the great work of -preventing the Prince’s sacrifice from being non-effective. He had been -willing to die, as everybody knew; but only because he hoped that a -better life would come to many through his death. And now, if the people -were actuated by revenge and hatred, not only to France, but also to the -new English Government as well—as seemed likely to be the case—then, -indeed, the best blood of the land would have been shed in vain. And so -universal among Christian men was the adoption of this speech that the -people were quieted, and wise counsels prevailed, together with a -profound conviction that the Prince’s prophecy would be fulfilled, and -England become “the leader in peace and righteousness.” - -They brought the body of the beloved Prince home to England, and in that -sepulchre of kings, Westminster Abbey, they buried him. - -The publication of the Prince’s will created a profound sensation. - -The little which had been given to him by the nation was to go back to -whom it belonged. But that which had been given to him for his own use -and distribution, by private individuals, and which constituted a most -surprisingly large sum, was, he considered, entirely at his disposal. -The times had seen many gifts of enormous sums to the poor, not a few of -which had come from anonymous donors; but it was not before known that -so great had been the love of the people for their Prince, and so -absolute their confidence in him, that many had preferred to trust him -with their money, assured that he would use it wisely. It was to this -wealth that the will written by his own hand chiefly referred. It set -forth his faith that soon after his death the Government of England -would set an example of peace to the nations of the world by permitting -those who chose to withdraw from the British army, after making all -necessary arrangements for the calling together of volunteers from among -them in case of an emergency. The Prince declared that he had found -constant solace and strength from the thought of the joy with which -these men, now kept in idleness at the expense of the country, with no -rights as citizens, and unable for the most part to secure domestic -joys, would go home to their friends and take their rightful places in -the world. But he recognised the fact that at first they would be at a -disadvantage with their fellows because they had forgotten how to till -the ground, or choose and sell the merchandise, or guide the machine. -And he therefore directed that his money should be kept in trust until -required, and then used for the purpose of instructing the soldiers in -the arts of peace; and, if necessary, for providing for them in the -meantime, and until they could become engaged in remunerative -occupations. And he asked as a favour to himself that _the piece of land -which was the original cause of the quarrel should be set apart for the -free use of discharged English and French soldiers_. He knew that the -money which had been entrusted to him—much as it was—would be all too -little for so large a purpose, though he prayed that it might be wisely -managed by able and honest men, and so he left, as his dying bequest to -all who loved him, an importunate prayer that they would of their riches -add to the sum until it should answer the end designed. And the Prince -appointed as his executors his sister, the Archbishop of Canterbury, -Peter Macdonald, and Arthur Knight, whom he trusted to see that the -terms of his will were duly carried out. - -A committee was at once appointed to consider this remarkable will, and -work with the executors. And this committee proved itself to be composed -of men who had understanding of the spirit of the Prince, and -determination to give effect to his wishes. They lost no hours in -fruitless debate; nor did they cavil with one another in regard to -phrases, nor multiply difficulties which might never exist. They met -every day for a time, and as soon as possible were ready with their -report. - -The first fact which they made public was the gratifying one that the -money left by the Prince had already been doubled by the contributions -of rich men who had been waiting for some opportunity to dispose of part -of their wealth for the good of their country. This was the fruit of a -conviction that had been for many past years growing, that a Christian -man has no right to keep to himself the wealth which has been entrusted -to him. - -Another fact, which for the first time was put into words for the public -information, was the somewhat disquieting one, for the war party, that -it had now become exceedingly difficult to secure men for the British -Army. The youth of the nation of these times had no taste for swords, -and guns, and red coats. The veterans of the army often wondered what -England could possibly do if she had to engage in a big war while so -short of men. And although Englishmen believed still that their nation -was destined to lead the world, it was evident to all thoughtful minds -that it must be by other means than war, for even now she could not cope -with other nations in regard to military power. - -But, all the same, the Government was asked to reduce the standing army, -since it would be wiser to do that than to let it die out gradually and -ignominiously; and it was absolutely certain that this would be the case -in the near future, since the Christian Churches of England had enlisted -the youth of the nation in the grand army of the Young Crusaders, every -member of which had solemnly sworn to preserve peace. - -The committee, therefore, recommended the Government to give immediate -effect to the Prince’s will; to allow men who had already served ten -years in the army to leave it if they chose; and to give them, under -certain conditions, a lump sum, instead of a pension, so that they might -commence business or emigrate, or provide themselves with tools and -equipments for labour. Had all this happened before, there would have -been a great outcry that the already overstocked labour market would -become congested by the turning into it of thousands of new men; but -people were really wise enough now to see that it would be cheaper for -these men to work than to be kept in idleness at the expense of the -State, and they were learning to solve the problem of the -over-production of commodities by the industrial classes by making it -possible for the industrial classes themselves to enjoy the commodities -which they were producing. - -So the suggestions of the committee were accepted. - -“Our Quixotic Government can no further go,” said one of the papers next -morning; but its small light was snuffed out during the day, for the -journals that were of consequence took the other side, and it became -evident that the life and death of the Prince had converted an enormous -number of thinkers. - -Still, it was decided that such a drastic measure could not be carried -out till after an appeal to the people, and the House of Commons first -adopted the suggestion of the committee and then resigned. The step was -at once proved to have been unnecessary. The people were in advance of -their leaders, and had come to be their friends, and supporters of these -good measures. The world looked on in wonder as one after another of the -constituencies decided to return without opposition their present -representatives to the new Parliament. In only a few cases was there a -contested election, and in nearly every one of these there was returned -a man more strongly on the side of the people, and for peace, than the -one who had been deposed. The Government, therefore, went back to its -work with its hands greatly strengthened. - -And the first thing it did was to ask that a Council might be elected, -consisting of the same number as the House of Commons, and elected in -the same way, each constituency to send one man as the representative of -the united churches of the locality, whose duty it would be to act for -the churches in the direction of the social and domestic affairs of the -nation. This Council was to sit in London for ten days of each quarter; -and it was to take into consideration more than a few changes which were -now admitted to be within the range of practical politics. - -One of these was a new poor law. There was to be no more separation of -the aged poor from their friends. No more was the answer to an appeal -for help in the last extremity to be “The House or Nothing!” If an old -man or woman, or both, had sons and daughters, or grandchildren willing -to undertake the care of the failing life, if only a little pecuniary -assistance were given, the assistance was to be at once vouchsafed. -Young men who had become absolutely penniless through affliction, or -loss, or through no fault of their own were to be henceforth helped into -some sphere of work where they could live by their own earnings. If they -were ill, they were to be nursed back into health, or sent into a -convalescent home; if they were idiots, to an asylum; or, if incapable, -to a place where kindly patient teachers would foster the little spark -of intelligence within them. The children were to be taken away from the -workhouse into a home—or, rather, the great uncomfortable building was, -in some cases, to be itself altered and made home-like. But, for the -most part, the workhouse was to be true to its name. If a man refused to -work for his wife and children, he was to be captured and brought there -with them, and compelled to support himself and them, unless he -preferred to starve. If he treated them cruelly, he was to be, for the -second offence, punished with the lash; and it was wonderful how soon -this treatment made cowardly brutes civil in their treatment of those -who were weak. But, at the same time, everything was done that could be -to make the workhouse a city of refuge, where those who had made -themselves and one another wretched learned to love one another and be -happy. - -And over these buildings were painted the words which Christendom was -bent upon obeying, with shame that the obedience came so late: “All -things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to -them.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI. - FOR EVER AFTER? - - -Twelve months later an old year was passing away in perfect calm. If it -had been memorable for no other reason, the weather would have made it -so, for no year had been more stormy or wrought more violently than -this; now, however, as if it knew a late repentance, and had grown -ashamed and sorry for the excesses of its hot youth, it seemed to be -caring for nothing but to take and give the kiss of peace before it -died. Nature was in a mood of profound sympathy. Enough snow had fallen -to beautify all rugged and unlovely things; the wind had ceased its loud -tones, and only spoke in whispers; the moon spread its light over the -restful world, and the stars shone in the blue heavens like lamps of -gold. - -There were thousands of people waiting in the expectancy of faith and -hope, who felt that an augury of good had come to them with that night. - -There was a gathering of notable people in John Dallington’s house at -Darentdale, who intended together to see the old year out and the new -year in. Arthur Knight had issued an invitation to them all to meet at -Brent House in London, the home of his boyhood, but if they had done so -the meeting must have been without Margaret, for she declared that not -for all the friends she had would she leave her baby, or run the risk of -his taking cold on a journey, and therefore the meeting was at -Darentdale, since Margaret’s absence was not to be tolerated. - -It was a representative gathering, and Arthur Knight called it a -“stock-taking supper,” for they had met, not only to see one another, -but to consider their gains and losses. He was the first to arrive, and -Dr. Stapleton came next. Then followed Mr. Collinson, known all over -England now as the Children’s Pastor, because he had insisted that a -minister’s first duty was to the young of the congregation. Mr. -Stapleton, the builder, was also there; so was Mr. Emerson, the vicar of -Darentdale; and also Miss Wentworth and Mary Wythburn, besides Mr. -Whitwell and his daughter Tom, with several other friends and helpers, -among them a man who was ready to give his life for Arthur Knight, a -servant and companion, who always spoke of himself as “the boy who threw -the stone at the Knight.” There were also one visitor from America and -one from Germany. - -Darentdale presented a different appearance from that which it revealed -on the morning after its master had returned from his travels. There -were now no leaves on the trees nor primroses in the woods; and yet, as -he glanced over the scene, he thought it more lovely than ever. One -reason was that he had kept his resolution and redeemed the land. It was -a happy day to him, as well as to his uncle and cousin, when he paid off -the mortgage which had always been a trouble to him. And the means by -which he had been enabled to do this had in themselves been reasons of -rejoicing. He had been quite determined not to use a penny of his wife’s -money, even for so good an end. Equally determined was he that the -labourers on his farm should not suffer because he had a debt to pay. -The way out of his difficulty had been one proposed by his friend -Knight, who had come to him one day with a proposition. “Since your land -is so dear to you,” he said, “I do not ask you to sell it; but will you -let me have a few fields on a long lease that I may plant a factory and -some workmen’s houses upon it?” - -Dallington was only too glad to do this. There was a waste piece of land -that only grew gorse and bushes, and that land was now covered with -pretty houses, of which Dallington was as proud as Knight. - -The latter had conducted the American visitor over this place in the -morning, and he wanted to talk of nothing else. - -“Will you explain to me, Mr. Knight, what you mean by calling this new -colony of yours a Missionary Settlement?” he asked. - -“Certainly. It has been built wholly at the request of some of my -Craighelbyl people, whose money is invested in it. They are men who have -made the Welsh place a success, and who, happy in their new life, have -not forgotten their old companions in London. They petitioned me to -advance the money, and allow them to take it up in shares and manage it. -It is really a co-operative concern, as the Craighelbyl place is fast -becoming now. The factory is to produce second-class goods—that is, -articles which are to be worth every penny asked for them, and warranted -to wear, but without the finish, the polish, for which our other goods -are—if you will excuse the egotism of a manufacturer—known all over the -world. These men of mine are themselves conducting this factory, and -every man whom they employ is one who has been rescued from drunkenness -or some other wrongdoing. So, you see, it is more than a factory—it is a -mission of usefulness. Every foreman or manager is pledged to patience -and watchfulness. No one has been allowed to help in this matter who is -not known to be a strong and consistent Christian man. Of course, they -have had some disappointments. They told me to-day that already they -have had to send to the Asylum for drunkenness as incurable six men and -seven women; but they are hopeful that these will prove the only ones -who need go; and that the workpeople, brought away from the temptations -of London, will live sober and godly lives.” - -“You have greatly solved the problem of the poor by taking them from the -crowded centres of great cities.” - -“Yes; I do not think we could have accomplished all that has been done -excepting in this way. I know of more than four hundred manufacturers -who have taken their people and their work away from big towns to little -villages—where land is cheaper and the air is fresh—and there have -helped them to begin life again under new conditions. In this way -numbers become quite manageable. Every man, woman, and child is known to -the master and the mistress, who are now awake to their responsibility, -and understand that if they employ people it is their duty to look after -them and care for them. I believe there is not a Christian man in -England to-day who regards his _employés_ merely as hands to earn money -for him.” - -“Thank God!” - -“Yes, indeed, we have reason to thank God. There has been a great -awakening of the individual conscience in the Church.” - -“We in America consider your latest liquor law rather severe.” - -“We have had to be severe in order to be kind,” said Dr. Stapleton. “The -Legislature was resolved to stamp out drunkenness at any cost; and I -believe it is in a fair way to be accomplished now. We never required so -few prisons as we do now; and it was a good idea to use them as refuges -for drunkards, and compel every man or woman who had been thrice -convicted of drunkenness to live in them.” - -“This has been a marvellously executive year,” said Mr. Emerson. “It has -been like a dream. Only a few years ago, and at every Christmas time -there were numbers of men out of work, and some nearly starving, and now -there is work for every man who likes to do it.” - -“And, what is almost better still, every man has to work whether he -likes it or not,” said Mr. Stapleton. - -“You nearly had a revolution over that thing, though,” said the -American. “The liberty of the subject was in danger.” - -“Yes; only a Government that knew its own strength could have given such -an excellent definition of liberty as ours has,” replied Mr. Whitwell. -“Every man has liberty to do right, but no one has licence to do that -which is evil.” - -“But the happy change which has been brought about is not the work of -the Government. It is the work of a united Church,” said Mr. Emerson. -“That which has been accomplished might have been done long ago if the -Church had known its power and done its duty.” - -“You might have said if the Church had been Christian,” suggested Tom -Whitwell. - -“But no new thing has happened, nor has any new doctrine been preached,” -said Knight. “The only reason of all the change is that we have come to -believe that what was said in Nazareth eighteen centuries ago is true -and possible. We were told all along that the merciful were blessed, -that the pure in heart should see God, that those who hungered and -thirsted after righteousness should be filled, and we have simply -discovered that when Jesus gave His few plain directions regarding His -kingdom He did not make impossible regulations. That is all.” - -“Yes, that is all. But it is not a little.” - -“The best of it is that the light is flooding Germany and America as -well as England,” said the German guest. - -“And,” replied Arthur Knight, “Canada has been blessed that it has such -a son as Macdonald. How I wish he could have been with us to-night! He -has been invited to deliver his message in all the States of America. -What he has done for and in the Church of England only God knows. He has -been a second Wesley, or a Church Spurgeon, or a modern St. Francis of -Assisi. If he has not taught the people to love poverty, he has made -them ashamed of being afraid of it; and the young men of the Church are -being convinced that there are more desirable things than luxury, -wealth, and idleness, and they are proving that there are no such noble -men in the world as Englishmen who are Christians. Macdonald, too, has -done much to bring about that Christian union to which we owe -everything. A united Church has done what nothing else could do, and -completely lifted the poor and the degraded out of their former -position.” - -“One wonders now,” said Mr. Collinson, “how it could be that so many of -the best people never seemed to give any thought to their social and -relative duties.” - -“It is strange, indeed; but it can scarcely ever be the case again.” - -“Oh, surely not, for very shame! So many have come to realise that their -birth, and education, and wealth are given to them in trust for others, -that they will not dare to use them entirely for themselves in the -future.” - -“It is something that at last goodness and kindness are fashionable,” -said Miss Wentworth. - -“Do you think there is any hope of a general disarmament?” inquired the -German. - -“There is a hope, certainly. The events of the past months have made a -profound impression all over Europe and America. At present there is -assuredly no nation with sufficient courage to declare war.” - -“The people are disgusted with it; and now, as always, they form the -final Court of Appeal, in Germany as everywhere else.” - -“The best of it is that, so far as England is concerned, we have the -boys on our side,” said Mr. Collinson. “There is no sign so hopeful as -this. Your appeal, Mr. Knight, is bringing an abundant harvest of good.” - -“Yes; our hope is in the boys. I watched a number of them in the -gymnasium the other day, and a fine time they were having; but the -difference that a year or two has made in their language and behaviour -is very marked.” - -“Mr. Collinson, the children’s minister of Granchester, has had much to -do with that,” said Dr. Stapleton, “for he set the example, which other -ministers have followed.” - -“Ah, no!” said Mr. Collinson. “The originators of the Society of the -Young Crusaders have accomplished the greatest thing of the generation. -What fine fellows those boys are! They are the saviours of the nation! I -declare to you, Stapleton, that I never see your nephew without feeling -that I must take off my hat to him.” - -“Yes; if the Society goes on manufacturing men of this kind we need have -no fear for the future. They will finish what we begin. I am glad that -the girls are being well looked after, too,” said Miss Wentworth. - -“The great effort of the day on their behalf,” said Arthur Knight, “must -be to make them domesticated and home-loving, for our young Crusaders -are growing up with the idea that it is a disgrace to men to let their -sisters and daughters work for a living. That is the duty and privilege -of the male.” - -“The boys of England are having a splendid training now,” said Mr. -Whitwell. “Our plan—to put every boy that is born under the care of a -good Christian woman (his mother, if possible, and, if not, some -other)—is having excellent results.” - -“It is only going back to the old idea of the Church,” said Mr. Emerson. -“Every child is to have a godmother and godfather. All that is best in -these modern improvements has come from our section of the Church.” - -An amused silence which followed this remark was broken by a question, -put by the German, in regard to Craighelbyl, which Mr. Knight answered. - -“The cure for strikes everywhere is to give the people a direct share in -the business. Craighelbyl has adopted this plan from the first. The -people are buying their homes with the rent they pay. I gave them twenty -years in which to do it; but they got dissatisfied, and considered that -too long a time. Perhaps it was. I am getting recouped more quickly than -I expected; and the time is short yet. So I gave in. We talked the -matter over together, and I altered the term to fifteen years, at the -end of which time, supposing the rents to be faithfully paid, every -man’s house will be his own. But all men are not alike; some save money -more quickly than others, even though they earn but little more; so I -have had a sum fixed for every house, and if a man can pay it off in ten -years, or even less, I have no objection. Some will be their own -landlords in less than ten years, I believe.” - -“And what will you do with the business?” - -“If they are willing to unite together, and buy it as a co-operative -affair, I shall sell it to them. I think they will, for the old jealousy -which they used to feel towards each other, and the suspicion with which -they regarded any man who seemed to be doing well, are less than they -were.” - -“Everybody who serves in any capacity is chosen by vote, is he not?” -asked the American. - -“Excepting myself, the minister, the schoolmaster, and the doctor. -Eventually, perhaps,” said Knight with a smile, “they may choose -individuals to fill our places, but at present we have been given to -them, whether they liked us or not. In Craighelbyl the people are very -keen and critical. We have fine men there. Hancourt has been a splendid -manager of the business. I am sure he will always be triumphantly put -back in his place, whatever new candidates are forthcoming. We have an -Irishman for a doctor. The people pay no fees; they are doctored at my -expense, because it is very much to my advantage that I should have -healthy workpeople; and we have very little sickness, because the -sanitary arrangements are good, and the first symptoms of disease are -promptly seen and met.” - -“Do they all go to church?” inquired the German. - -“No; but a very large majority may be found there. They nearly all go to -the Sunday-evening concert, held from eight to nine in the lecture-hall, -where high-class sacred music is performed and sacred songs are sung.” - -“Do you pay these musicians and singers?” - -“No; they give their services very willingly, for they are our own -people. Those who have musical taste and talent receive an education in -music, as do those who are scientifically inclined in science.” - -“I suppose all education is free?” - -“Most certainly! You see, my point is that I shall be best served by an -educated, contented, and healthy set of people. It is all a matter of -self-interest.” - -During the laugh that greeted this assertion Mrs. Dallington arose, and -the ladies followed her into the drawing-room. Mary Wythburn sat before -the organ with a book of Mendelssohn before her, and the other guests -made themselves comfortable, to listen or think, as they pleased; but -Margaret and Miss Whitwell sought a quiet corner for talk. - -“Madge, how well and happy you look.” - -“And I look as I am! Dear old Tom, I hope you will stay a long time now, -for you do not know half the delightful things my baby can do. Your -father must spare you. To have you here is just the crown to my joy.” - -Margaret’s dark eyes were looking full into the face of her friend. - -“I suppose you are quite busy again, Margaret,” asked Tom. - -“Yes. There is plenty of work close at hand, and, you know, Tom, we -always said that the thing that was nearest was the right thing to do.” - -“But I am not so sure about that now as I used to be.” - -“Oh, you may be certain it is right in the main! We are going to have -‘At Homes’ every Saturday afternoon and evening for the youths and the -girls on the farm. I want the girls to copy my home as well as my dress. -We shall make them welcome, and see that they have good times—in the -drawing-room in the winter, and the garden in the summer; and we hope -they will be having an object-lesson all the time. I used to think this -sort of thing not altogether kind, and to be afraid that after -experiencing the comfort and refinement of such a home as ours they -would go back to their own abodes more discontented than ever. But I am -not afraid of that now, for the contrasts are not so great; they can all -have comfortable homes too.” - -“Ah! Darentdale led the way.” - -“It did; and I cannot tell you how thankful I am. It used to be shameful -that people were compelled to live in such utter, hopeless misery as -they did only a few years ago.” - -“Are you going to have the youths and the girls at the same time, and -together, at these ‘At Homes’ of yours?” - -“Certainly; why not? Were they not intended to be together?” - -“Your house will become a paradise of lovers, Margaret.” - -“I only hope it may. I promise myself all sorts of pleasures in watching -my friends making the discovery that they love and are beloved. Do you -know, Miss Thomasine Grace Whitwell, that there is nothing in all the -world half so well worth winning and having as that?” - -“That? What?” - -“You do not need me to tell you, I am sure.” - -“You were always romantic, Margaret. Our friend, Mary Wythburn, does not -agree with you.” - -“I am afraid not.” And she glanced significantly towards Mary, and Dr. -Stapleton, who had been the first to join her, and who had gone at once -to turn over the leaves of the music-book. “You know, Tom, we are all -committed to the task of securing the greatest happiness for the -greatest number; and whoever makes herself and one other individual -happy is doing something towards it.” - -“Margaret, you are getting most disgracefully frivolous. I shall move to -the piano. I am in danger here of being corrupted.” - -Mary had left the instrument, and some one was asking, “Will not Miss -Whitwell sing for us?” - -“Miss Whitwell is not at all in a singing mood,” she said; but John -Dallington added his request, and she was too good-natured to refuse. At -first she played a sonata, then a march; but “A song! a song!” cried her -friends, and she gave them a ditty of her own: - - “There was, among the fields of earth, - A little patch of ground, - Which loving hearts held priceless, - And tender hands hedged round,— - A small brown patch, with naught to show, - Save a weed here and there; - But it proved a triumph-trophy, won - By kindliness and care. - - “Frosts sealed it down in safe, close warmth - Till the cold passed away; - Then genial showers fell softly, - Then the sun shone all day, - And deft hands turned it over, - And treasures green and gold - With lavish generosity - Were given for it to hold. - - “And through the summer, beautiful - Was that same patch of ground, - For fragrant flowers, and rich, ripe fruits, - And golden corn were found. - And over it the glad birds sang - Their merry hymns and lays, - And near to it the hearts of men - Poured forth their Master’s praise. - - “And, best of all, He came to see - The patch of ground prepared, - And His eyes noted the green spot, - And knew how it had fared; - And smiled the gentle Master then, - For He saw what love had won, - And crowned the workers with the words: - ‘My faithful ones, well done!’” - -“Now, Margaret, it is your turn,” said the singer. “Give us something -merry.” - -“The Doctor will do that,” said John; and Stapleton gave “Rule, -Britannia!” with variations, that were very varied indeed. - -After a time, “Will not Mr. Knight favour us with a song?” asked -Margaret. “I know he does sing.” - -“Not often,” replied Arthur, as he took his seat at the piano, and -prepared to accompany himself. - -All eyes in the room turned affectionately towards him. - - “He is a man, take him for all in all, - We ne’er shall look upon his like again.” - -John Dallington made the quotation softly, so that only those nearest to -him heard it; but they realised its aptness as they looked at the truest -knight of the century. What a brave battle he had fought, and how little -he regarded himself as a hero! How unswervingly he had run his course, -turning neither to the right nor the left, but reaching the goal of his -desire only to lay his victor’s crown on the altar of his faith. A man -of remarkable talents, indeed, and thankful for every one of them; for -the high thoughts which he knew had been given to him, not made by him, -for the power to speak so that men were persuaded, for the health which -had enabled him to endure fatigue, and the wealth which he might use as -he pleased, and for the courage of his convictions, which had made him -do where others had but ventured to dream! He could not ignore it all on -this, the last day of the year, any more than others did, but he had -many misgivings and regrets to keep him humble. Strange to say, he was -feeling very lonely, though in the midst of his dearest friends; and -perhaps the sight of Dallington’s happiness made him realise more than -ever before that, however much he had gained, he had missed something -without which no man’s life is complete. His thoughts were with his -father. Some one a few minutes before had asked him whether he ever took -up a newspaper nowadays without seeing his own name in it; and he -answered half irritably, “Yes, very often,” for that was not a -particularly interesting item to him; then he wondered what his father -would think of it all if he could know; and a shadow of self-reproach -stole over him, and a fear, lest, after all, he had not done wisely and -well. But they were waiting for his song, and presently his voice, to -which he owed so much, rang out clearly, though in subdued tones:— - - “Give pardon to-night, - O God of the light! - For we are like children who wail in the shade, - Half afraid; - And look up to Thy face - For love, comfort, and grace. - Around Thee we gather— - Forgive us, our Father! - - “The day breaks at last, - The shadows are past, - And we must go forward, pursuing our way - Through the day; - Go Thou where we go, - Thy will make us know, - And, all danger scorning, - Go forth to the morning.” - -“The morning is almost here,” said Dallington. - -“Would you not like to meet the year outside? It is a glorious night.” - -The scene in the garden was so beautiful that few words were spoken. It -was as if the very world held its breath and listened. A silence fell on -every one, for every heart was full of prayer. Margaret forgot all her -guests for a few minutes, and slipped her hand within the arm of her -husband. Miss Whitwell stood a little apart from the rest, thinking her -own thoughts. Dr. Stapleton whispered to Miss Wythburn an old wish from -Shakespeare— - - “God give thee many days of happy years.” - -Arthur Knight repeated his own words: - - “Give pardon to-night, O God of the light!” - -Then the silence was so deep that it seemed almost as if their thoughts -could be heard. Perhaps they were! Miss Whitwell softly whispered -hers—“The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble, the name of the God of -Jacob defend thee; send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen -thee out of Zion; remember all thy offerings, and accept thy burnt -sacrifice; grant thee thy heart’s desire, and fulfil all thy mind.” Some -irresistible power drew her eyes to where Arthur Knight was standing, -looking perhaps the most sorrowfully of any of the party. He met her -look, and a thought flashed into his mind that electrified him. - -“Can it be possible! Did she really only care for Dallington as a -cousin! What does it mean? Can it be?——” - -With a sudden impulse of hope he stepped to her side. - -“Grace,” he said, “the old house in London is very solitary; and so is -the heart of its owner, in Craighelbyl as well as in London.” - -“Oh, no, no!” she said. “How can you be solitary when you have been so -honoured?” - -“Grace, do you know that I love you, that I have loved you all the time, -ever since I first knew you?” - -Again she whispered, “Oh, no, no!” scarcely knowing what she said. But -Arthur had put his arm around her, and could feel the beating of her -heart. “Oh, my darling,” he said, “is it possible that you can care for -me? I had not dared to hope it! Is it really true that we may begin the -year together—_together_?” - -The first stroke of the Darentdale church clock struck through the -silence of the night. Arthur drew the trembling girl more closely to -him, and held her fast while the slow bell sounded twelve times. She -tried to be perfectly still, and not even sigh forth the gladness that -was almost breaking her heart; but when the clock ceased, and the bells -pealed out, she lifted her eyes to his face for a moment, and he stooped -and kissed her. - -Then they remembered their friends, but no one seemed to have observed -them. The old formula, “A Happy New Year!” was on the lips of all; but -before it could be uttered some one began to sing the opening words of -the _Te Deum_, and everybody sang with a full heart: “We praise Thee, O -God; we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship -Thee, the Father everlasting.” Then dark forms were seen coming quietly -towards them; and presently Dallington said to Knight, “They are the -people from the village; they have come over the hill to wish you a -Happy New Year. Ah! the thousands who would like to do the same thing! -How well they sing!” And indeed they did sing, joining in the anthem, as -if every one was contrasting the joy of this New Year with the sorrows -of past days, and feeling such joy and thankfulness as could only be -expressed in praise to the Great Father. And that old grand psalm of the -ages, sung in many an august scene, never thrilled with fuller meaning -than now, when the stars looked down upon the singers, and the very air -of the night seemed alive with human emotion. So the anthem swelled to -its close—“O Lord, in Thee have I trusted; let me never be confounded!” - - - THE END. - - - LONDON: - W. SPEAIGHT AND SONS, PRINTERS, - FETTER LANE. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - _13 & 14, FLEET STREET, LONDON._ - - - - - JAMES CLARKE & CO.’S BOOKS. - - - Pamphlets. - - THE BEAUTY OF GOD, AND OTHER SERMONS. By T. VINCENT TYMMS. 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If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Nineteen hundred?</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A forecast and a story</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Marianne Farningham</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 26, 2022 [eBook #69638]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINETEEN HUNDRED? ***</div> - -<div class='tnotes covernote'> - -<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> - -<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='titlepage'> - -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>NINETEEN HUNDRED?<br> <span class='large'><em>A FORECAST AND A STORY.</em></span></h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>BY</div> - <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>MARIANNE FARNINGHAM,</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='small'><em>Author of “The Cathedral Shadow,” “The Clarence Family,” “Songs of Sunshine,” &c., &c.</em></span></div> - <div class='c002'><span class='large'>London:</span></div> - <div><span class='large'>JAMES CLARKE & CO., 13 & 14, FLEET STREET.</span></div> - <div>1892.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c004'>This little dream, of what, I hope, may be in the near -future, was dreamed several years ago, and much of it -written on paper, the rest having to wait for strength and -opportunity. But, meanwhile, the spirit of progressive love -has not had to wait, and already part of my dream has -come true, for the genius of “applied Christianity” is at -work, doing what I only saw in a vision. I take this fact -as an earnest that the other good things will follow. But -they will not unless it is realised that the hope of England -is in her young. And I affectionately dedicate this forecast-story -to all father-hearted men and mother-hearted -women who see in every child a treasure of priceless -value, a force of mightiest possibilities, to be redeemed -for Christ <em>at any cost</em>.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0'> - <tr> - <th class='c006'><span class='small'>CHAPTER</span></th> - <th class='c007'> </th> - <th class='c008'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>I.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Old England for Ever</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>II.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Sunday in the Country</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_8'>8</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>III.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Sunday in London</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_16'>16</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Cousin Tom</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_25'>25</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>V.—</td> - <td class='c007'>The Duty that is Nearest</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_33'>33</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Arthur Knight’s Inheritance</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_45'>45</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Mary Wythburn’s Wedding</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_53'>53</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VIII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Some Signs of the Times</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_63'>63</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IX.—</td> - <td class='c007'>In the Autumn</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_72'>72</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>X.—</td> - <td class='c007'>In Paradise</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_84'>84</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Our Parish</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_95'>95</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A New Order</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_106'>106</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>The Course of True Love</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_117'>117</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Defeat, or Victory?</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_127'>127</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A New Emigration</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_137'>137</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XVI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Christmas Day</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_147'>147</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XVII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Report of Progress</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_156'>156</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XVIII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Discovered</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_166'>166</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIX.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A New Minister</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_175'>175</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XX.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Tri-Coloured Crusader</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_179'>179</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>XXI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Happy Exodus</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_186'>186</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>“Get On, Get Honour, Get Honest”</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_199'>199</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXIII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A City of Homes</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_207'>207</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXIV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Church in Conference</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_216'>216</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Thistles or Grapes?</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_221'>221</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXVI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>His Own Way</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_229'>229</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXVII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Visit of Inquiry</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_237'>237</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXVIII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>“For Christ and the People!”</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_244'>244</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXIX.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Young England</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_252'>252</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXX.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Peace!</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_259'>259</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXXI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>From Darentdale to High Seathorpe</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_266'>266</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXXII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>A Letter</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_276'>276</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXXIII.—</td> - <td class='c007'>All’s Well that Ends Well</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_283'>283</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXXIV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Was it a Dream?</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_292'>292</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXXV.—</td> - <td class='c007'>Was it Expedient?</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_300'>300</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXXVI.—</td> - <td class='c007'>For Ever After?</td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_307'>307</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='chapter ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c009'> - <div><span class='sc'>Nineteen Hundred?</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'><em>A FORECAST AND A STORY.</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I.<br> <span class='large'>OLD ENGLAND FOR EVER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The good ship <em>Kenwick Castle</em> lay off Madeira. Few of her -passengers cared to land, for they were homeward bound, -and desired nothing so much as to get away speedily. Neither -were they as much impressed as on the outward journey, -by the soft brilliancy of the atmosphere and the picturesque -loveliness of the crimped coast of the island. The towering -peaks, the rainbow-spanned gorges and ravines, the dense -foliage of the forests, the vineyards and the plantations—made -up a picture worthy of admiration; but the eyes that -looked across the waters to the white houses of Funchal were -wearying for the quiet beauty of English meadows.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The scene between the ship and the shore was a lively one. -Boats flashed in the sun, and a clamorous company of Portuguese, -Moorish, and negro salesmen offered fruits, baskets, -chairs, and ornaments of all sorts, so that those who had -forgotten to bring presents for their friends might easily -purchase them now. Swimming boys—black-skinned and -coffee-coloured—were shouting for money to be thrown into -the sea to test their diving powers, and boatmen were eager -for customers. But the captain and the crew looked only for -fresh passengers, and did but wait with dogged patience until -they should arrive.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Two young men were leaning over the side of the vessel, -and watching the boats and the shore.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There are passengers coming,” said one. “It would indeed -be strange if Miss Wentworth were among them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Too strange to be true, I imagine. She is probably in -England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>“Yes. But she usually leaves Madeira about this time. I -wish she might happen to be going with us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So do I, heartily. And, look—look at the lady in the -second boat. She is very like her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How curious. It is really she. Let us see if we can help -her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They hurried to the gangway and welcomed with great -cordiality a lady whom everybody seemed glad to see, not a -young lady, however, but a placid, kindly-looking woman, tall -and matronly, who was between fifty and sixty years of age. -She thanked the young men who had eagerly offered their -services, but she evidently did not recognise them nor quite -understand their manifest pleasure.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How are you, Miss Wentworth? It is good to meet you -again. You have forgotten us, I see. We came out with you -six years ago in the <em>Drummond Castle</em>. My friend is John -Dallington, and I am Arthur Knight.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, I remember! You were both sent from England -to be out of the way; because your presence at home was -embarrassing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Exactly; and we have been together ever since. We have -travelled nearly all over the world; but they cannot do without -us any longer in England, so we are homeward bound, as -you are. Don’t you want to know how we have been getting -along since we parted from you at the hotel yonder?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall like to hear anything you have to tell me. You -are both so altered that I should not have known you. You -have grown, I think, and passed from youth into manhood. -Six years make a great difference when you are young. What -has become of the gentleman who went to take care of you? -Is he with you still?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, he is not. We must tell you of him presently.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They made a pleasant-looking trio, frequently, during the -three days that sufficed to carry them to England, as, with -chairs drawn together on the deck, they talked of the past -and the future. Miss Wentworth was an interested listener. -Her fifty years had made her very kindly and sympathetic, -and the motherliness of her nature rendered her the friend of -every one who came within her reach, and especially of the -young. She had been kind to the two youths, when, a little -sore-hearted and rebellious, they were outward bound, and -among the things which she had said to “hearten them up” -had been one which they had not forgotten. They were -therefore the more glad to see her now that their banishment -was ended, and they were about to begin life in earnest.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of the two young men, though Dallington was the more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>handsome, Knight was by far the more attractive. Rather -taller than the average Englishman, strong and graceful -in figure, with a broad forehead, masculine nose, firm lips, -and wide chin, he was the personification of strength and -manliness; but there was something about him which told -also of great tenderness, refinement, and self-mastery. There -was not a particle of self-assertion in him, and yet he was -one who would never be overlooked, even in a crowd. When -he entered a room people naturally observed him, when he -spoke everybody listened; for he had the rare gift of magnetic -influence, which seems to be possessed by only a few in a -century.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Miss Wentworth had recognised this on her first meeting -with him. She felt sure that if he lived the world would hear -of Arthur Knight, and she was full of desire that the life -so vigorous and forceful might be altogether on the side of -righteousness and truth. So wistful was she that she could -not let him go without one or two earnest words. She -believed that “the Christian is the highest type of man,” and -her faith in the power of the living Christ to draw and train -disciples was great. She had doubts of the presumption -which talks to people about “their souls,” yet she did summon -courage to say to those young men, who glibly informed her -that they did not believe in the Founder of the Christian -religion, “No, for you do not need Him now; but when you -do, you will find that He is both able and willing to help -you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>These words neither of the three had forgotten; and -Knight referred to them in one of their conversations.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I proved the truth of what you said, Miss Wentworth, in -a very extraordinary manner. I had not the slightest sympathy -with religion in any form. My mother died when I -was about three, I can scarcely remember her; but my father, -who was a Dissenter, took me to chapel with him always; -though I never really entered into the service. I did not join -in the prayer, for I did not want the things for which the -minister asked, and the sermons never concerned me. They -were for the most part disquisitions on texts, for which I did -not care, and they seemed to me to have nothing whatever to -do with the ordinary lives of the people. I cannot remember -ever hearing anything to make a false or selfish man uncomfortable, -and I could not see that those who were church -members were at all better than those who were not. And I -really believed that the whole thing was a farce.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I never went as far as that,” said Dallington. “But I did -not have as much of it as my friend. We were Church -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>people; and we had no prayer-meetings in the vestry, nor -psalm-singing at home.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I had enough of it, and it was really irksome; and when I -began to read books that were opposed to Christianity I -agreed with every word that was said, and decided that as for -religion there was absolutely nothing in it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I know now that there is. You were asking me about -my old tutor. He is dead; and it was at his death that I put -your words to the test. It was very painful. We were alone, -with none but Arabs near us. He was awfully ill; and when -the thought came to him that he would probably die, he was -altogether unnerved. The fact is that he was really afraid of -what might be after death. He said to me, ‘Arthur, if there -is a hereafter I am not prepared for it.’ Then I told him -what you had said.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>At this point of the conversation John Dallington arose -and walked to the side of the vessel.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Knight, if you would rather not talk about it, do not -tell me,” said Miss Wentworth, in a low voice.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I want you to know,” said Knight. “One cannot -talk much about it; but I ought to tell you, and I will. I had -never prayed before, but then with all my heart I called upon -Jesus Christ. I asked Him, if it were true, as so many people -believed, that He was really the living Saviour, to reveal -Himself now. And He did.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But your friend did not live.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; we did not ask for that. That was not what we most -wanted. What we needed was the assurance that there is -<span class='sc'>Some One</span> who sees us in our weakness and cares for our -pain, and hears us when we cry. The assurance came so certainly -that I have never doubted since. Hutton grew first -calm, and then radiantly happy—as I had never seen him -before. He looked up with a wonderful light upon his face, -as if he could really see what is beyond, and he died with the -name of Jesus upon his lips.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am very glad. And what of yourself?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course, I cannot explain things. Dallington and I -have received pretty regularly from England all the books -and journals which we could get; and I know that this is -a time of great doubt. I cannot answer the questions that -are asked. But”—and the young man bowed his head -reverently—“I believe in the Son of God, and I rest in His -salvation.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Such a conversation could not be a protracted one. Miss -Wentworth could only look the sympathy and joy which she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>felt; and Arthur Knight walked the length of the deck -twice, and then joined his friend. When the three met -again on the following day the talk was of a less serious -character.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wonder,” said Miss Wentworth, “if you are going to -rave against everything English, as so many of our countrymen -do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, indeed,” replied Dallington; “I think we shall be -more likely to err in the opposite direction. I, for one, am -proud of my country. I suppose we might learn a few things -from other nations, but I am very well satisfied to be an -Englishman.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What are you going to do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have an estate to look after,” said Dallington. “I am -going to take care of my mother, and find out the best way -of growing fruit and corn.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I am going to help my father,” said Knight. “He is -a manufacturer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But his son does not wish to be a manufacturer,” said -Dallington, significantly. “He hopes to talk the people of -England round to his ideas.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Knight’s face flushed almost painfully. “We cannot -always alter circumstances,” he said; “but I confess that there -is to me a marvellous fascination in a listening crowd. There -is, however, no lack of orators in England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A new man who has something to say, and knows how to -say it, has always his chance, though,” said Miss Wentworth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>What his dreams had been by night and day the young -man did not tell. He said, “My father’s business is a large -one. I have some ideas on the subject of heads and hands, or -masters and men; and hope I may have the opportunity of -putting them into practice.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! surely you have not been abroad to learn Socialism. -We English people are afraid of that,” said Miss Wentworth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And yet many are dissatisfied with things as they are.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly, and they have need to be. Side by side with -all the good there are evils of which every decent person is -utterly ashamed.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then why do the decent people allow them to exist?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose they cannot help it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But they could if they would. They have the power and -the influence, if they only had the will. Very much of the -wealth, too, is in the hands of religious people, and if only -they cared, as I think they ought, the great evils which are a -disgrace to England might be stamped out in a year.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you really think so?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>“I feel sure of it. Englishmen do but need to know God’s -greatness and their own, and then they could lift our country -up to its name as a Christian land.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Miss Wentworth laughed a little. “That would bring the -Millennium much sooner than it is expected,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Another Wesley is wanted, or even a non-political Gladstone, -that is all. The people are ready for the man who has -an understanding of the times.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was early in the morning, just after daybreak, that the -long-looked-for homeland appeared in sight. Nobody had -slept much that night, for the thoughts of the passengers -had gone on before their eyes to the green heights of -Plymouth Hoe. Yet it was not so much because of its -historical associations that it so haunted them, but because -it would give them the first glimpse of the old country. A -cheer arose from the throats of the watchers as soon as it -first came in sight, and preparations for disembarking were -so rapidly completed that every one was ready long before the -land was reached.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight stood with folded arms and glowing eyes -looking at the land. How he had dreamed of that moment, -and prayed, “Here am I, send me.” It was strange for a -modern young man to be thinking of St. Paul and of Peter -the Hermit, but he was. He believed, as they did, that he -had received a God-inspired impulse, and that he had a -message to deliver for which there were hundreds of thousands -of people waiting in this dear native land of his. He -was in a state of exaltation, tempered, however, with deep -humility. “I am not worthy, yet send me,” he said. “Let -me go to the crowded towns and the lonely villages, and tell -the people what Thou hast told me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He uttered the words aloud, for no one was quite close, and -the next moment he stepped ashore, and a man came forward -to greet him. “Welcome home, Mr. Arthur. I am very glad -to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How do you do, Hancourt? How is my father?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Knight is well, sir; so am I, only I am much worried. -As you said you wished to talk to me I have taken the liberty -to engage a private compartment for the journey to London,” -said the man.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very good. When does the train start?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Almost immediately. Can I look after your luggage?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Knight at once took leave of his travelling companions. “My -father’s chief business manager has come to meet me at my -request,” he said, “and we travel together. Good-bye, Dallington, -and thank you for everything, old fellow. Hope you will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>find your Margaret unchanged. I should be sorry to think -we had come to the end of the story. Remember, we are but -beginning it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will not forget,” answered Dallington.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Good-bye, Miss Wentworth. I am glad to have your -address. You will be sure to hear from me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>When they were in the carriage, Knight and Hancourt -looked steadfastly at each other before either spoke, and each -noted the changes which the years had made.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How is Mrs. Hancourt? And how are your children?” -asked Knight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They are very well, thank you. Mr. Arthur, I am not -sure that I ought to have met you, for there have been many -changes in the last few months, and I am no longer in your -father’s employment.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How is that? I thought my father could not do without -you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are wanted at home, sir. Mr. Knight has become a -universal manufacturer, and has an enormous business, or -a dozen businesses, and employs thousands of hands. He -has been for the last few years making money fast; but as -fast as he has got rich his workpeople have got poor, and that -is not right, Mr. Arthur.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You must take care what you say of my father, Hancourt.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very good, sir. I am out of the concern, so it is nothing -to me; but I hope you will let me tell you what is in my -heart.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Go on, then.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Lately, indeed almost ever since you went away, the -master has been cutting things very close and underselling -everybody, and to do that he has used the commonest material, -and has frequently lowered the wages of his hands. Many -things which go across the sea are not worth the cost of -carriage; they are just put together to look well and that is -all. I think it is a great pity, and I ventured to say so -to Mr. Knight, because he will lose his customers, and the -business will go down as quickly as it went up if he does not -change his method. But Mr. Knight told me he did not care -for that. He thinks it is no business of his that other English -manufacturers will be suspected because he has got England -a bad name, but I think it ought to be, and that such conduct -is unpatriotic. But excuse me, Mr. Arthur, I can’t help -getting warm over it. I want to ask you, however, if you -will not try and bring about a better state of things?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur felt as if a stone had been given him when he asked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>for bread. Could it be that this and not that was his duty? -How should he give up his cherished ideas, and the work to -which he honestly believed himself called, and come down to -business?</p> - -<p class='c011'>Hancourt broke in upon his musings. “You see, sir, I am -one of the people, and know what it is to work for starvation -wages, and so I thought I would try and enlist your -sympathy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What are you doing yourself?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Nothing, sir, and I have a wife and two children. But I -am afraid I have spoiled your home-coming.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Indeed, he had.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II.<br> <span class='large'>A SUNDAY IN THE COUNTRY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The door of the manor house was open, and the owner -stood on the step looking across green fields and sloping -hills. Both the man and the house were worthy of attention. -The man was a strong, straight young Englishman of twenty-three -years, a little above the average height, with a face full -of health and intelligence, a mouth and chin that showed -strength and firmness, grey eyes full of kindliness, and a well-shaped -head covered with crisp, brown hair. The house was -an old-fashioned English homestead, unpretentious, but substantial, -and with an air about it of comfort and plenty. It -was the sort of house always associated in our minds with -the pictures of rural life which emigrants keep in their hearts, -and painters put on the canvas.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The young man standing in the doorway was thinking not -of the house, but of the view that was visible from it; and, in -truth, it was a very pleasant one. The garden at his feet was -ample and well kept, and already the spring flowers were -making it beautiful. Around the outside there were shrubs -of many kinds, and beyond them the home close looked green -and sunny, while further still a little stream rippled and -sang, and woods and fields made the landscape fair. John -Dallington was by no means an emotional man, but his heart -beat quickly as he looked across the fertile English lands -that had been his father’s, and were now his own. He had -never experienced the land-hunger that some people know; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>but if he had he could scarcely have felt a greater sense of -satisfaction than that which filled him now.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“To think that so fair a piece of this wonderful little England -is really mine, to have and hold, and do as I please with!” -he thought. “I have seen nothing so peaceful and picturesque -in all my wanderings. It is indeed good to be at -home.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And he felt this all the more because his absence had been -a long one. More than six years had passed since on a cold, -wet morning he had parted from his mother, and turned his -back upon his home. It was better so he thought then, and -it was his conviction still. But the memory was rather -a painful one, though it came to him on a Sunday morning, -when everything seemed glad, and the contrast between the -present and the past was most striking.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington lost his father when he was between -sixteen and seventeen years old. He had only just left -school, and was beginning to learn the best way to farm -land when his father died unexpectedly and suddenly. -In his will he left everything to his wife, constituting her -sole executrix, with power to make any arrangements or -alterations she pleased until their child was of an age to -assume the control of the estate. The lad loved his mother, -and proudly endeavoured to take his place as her natural -companion and protector. But when, less than a year after -his father’s death, she married Mr. Daniel Hunter, everything -became changed. John and his step-father disliked each -other from the first, and the youth felt as an interloper in his -home. There were a few stormy scenes between the two, the -mother always taking sides with her husband; and then -John made his mother so angry, by some hot words, which he -uttered respecting a young lady in Darentdale whom she -disliked, that she decided to send him away from home forthwith, -and from that time until the previous evening the heir -had not seen his home. But he never forgot what his -future position was to be, and had spent considerable time in -study, and in examination of agricultural plans as followed in -the different countries which he visited. He was, therefore, -not altogether unready for his new duties. But he had been -in no hurry to return and take them upon himself. Even -when his lawyer’s letter reminded him that he had attained -his majority, and requested him to come home and claim his -rights, he did not do so; and it was not until his mother -wrote informing him that she was a second time a widow, and -needed him, that he started on his journey.</p> - -<p class='c011'>While waiting for his mother on this, his first Sunday -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>in England, his thoughts were full of kindliness toward her—“Poor -little mother, it must be hard for her to be twice a -widow. I wonder if Hunter really made her happy, and if -she cared very much for him. I shall never be able to understand -how it was that she married him—a man not fit to hold -a candle to my father, and with scarcely a particle of his -high principle and goodness! How could she do it? But it -is strange to me if she has not had to suffer for it, and she -certainly looks ill and miserable. It cannot be because she -loved him. I hope he was good to her. In any case I will -be. No woman can help liking to have her son with her, and -I will try to make up to her for the trouble she has had.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>At that moment the sound of the bells came across the -field, and John remembered that there was a mile to walk to -church.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother, it is time to start. Are you ready?” he cried, -and she came immediately—a small figure, short and slight, -but very dignified, and covered from head to foot in crape.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What a shrouded up little mother it is!” he said tenderly, -“and how uncomfortable you must be. Can you breathe at -all under that thick thing?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes. It is not so thick as it looks.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad to hear it. I don’t like the crape fashion in -the very least. It is a shame to cover up your face when it -looks so pretty with the grey hair above it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, you must see a great change in me, John. My hair -has got very grey during the last two years, and my sight is -failing me too. I am quite the old woman already.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not at all! Besides, you will be getting young again -presently. You must wear glasses; they are an improvement -to most people. And as for grey hair, what does that -matter? Everybody knows that it means many things besides -old age.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am old, though, older than my years.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Poor little mother; you have had plenty to make you so; -but you will soon feel better. Is not this a beautiful morning! -And you cannot guess how glad I am to be at home -with you. I used to read some poetry when I was away -about ‘England’s primrose meadow paths,’ and try to remember -what they looked like. It is a very agreeable change -to see them. This is a cosy little wood.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They were wending their way through the spinney, and -the scent of the spring flowers was very sweet. The air, too, -was full of music, for the birds were singing, and the chiming -of the bells came nearer with every step they took. Now -and then a thrush or blackbird sang to them as they passed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>a squirrel sprang among the trees, and the rabbits scuttled -across the path. The whole scene was so peaceful and lovely -that John Dallington felt like taking his hat off in instinctive -reverence for the beauty by which he was surrounded. He -did not want to talk, and his mother seemed equally willing -to be silent. Indeed, the finest sermon that could have been -preached to the young man was finding its way into his heart -as he walked toward the church that morning.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But when they emerged from the wood, and after crossing -a meadow reached the high road, his thoughts were at once -interrupted. The village of Darentdale was only a small one, -and every individual in it knew that the young squire had -come home to claim his own. There had been much talking -of neighbours about him, and the liveliest interest was excited -by his appearance. As he and his mother passed the -scattered houses, faces peeped from the windows, and doors -were softly opened to enable the occupants of the cottages to -have a longer look at Mrs. Hunter and her son. Every one -who passed glanced at the young man’s face, with an expression -first of curiosity, and then of confidence and pleasure. In -these days the villagers are not too much given to the “old-fashioned -practice of saluting their betters”: they do not -think that they have any; but on this Sunday morning all -the women seemed inclined to remember their manners of the -old style, and there was not a man who did not touch or raise -his hat as they passed. It was all very agreeable to John -Dallington, and the genial, hearty way in which he returned -each salutation had the effect of at once favourably impressing -his neighbours.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He’ll do, won’t he? Eh!” said a man who was leaning -over his garden gate.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, ah! he’ll do fine,” replied another, taking his pipe -from his mouth for a moment. “He’s growed into a very -likely lad, has he, and we shall do better with him nor we did -with t’other.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That’s my ’pinion also. He looks like a fine young -Englishman, though he have been a-living in foreign parts.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He’ll do, and that’s my verdict.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington was looking at the villagers with an interest -scarcely less keen than that with which they regarded -him. He knew more about them than might be imagined. -Newspapers, magazines, reviews, and other floating literature -dealing with the questions of the day had been regularly -transmitted to him during his absence, and he was, therefore, -well acquainted with things as they were. He had read of -bad harvests in England while lingering among the cornfields -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>of America; and “the bitter cry” of London had reached -him in New Zealand. Perhaps, as he looked at these subjects -from a distance, and studied them very impartially by -the aid of both Liberal and Conservative journals, he was as -able to decide concerning them as those who had remained -upon the scene. In any case, with the usual sanguine confidence -of youth, he quite believed he was; and had already -fully made up his mind in regard to his course of action. -One of the first things he meant to do next morning was -to go over the estate and “see to things,” especially keeping -his eyes open to the needs of the cottage tenants on the -farm.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“John, this is rather a trying ordeal,” said Mrs. Hunter, -as they entered the churchyard. “Everybody seems to be -looking at us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Never mind, mother; they are looking very kindly. And -here is Emerson, appearing not a day older than when I went -away. I suppose he is as good as ever. He used to work as -hard and live on as little as if he were the curate instead of -the vicar. How strange it will feel to be in the old pew once -more.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next minute they had taken their places; and as the -last strokes of the bells died away the sounds of the organ -were heard; and John knelt as he used to kneel when a little -boy at his mother’s side, to join in the General Confession, -and listen to the Absolution.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington had frequently availed himself of the opportunities -afforded him in distant lands of attending religious -services, but he never joined more heartily in the prayers -than he did on this occasion. They expressed exactly what -he felt, and the grand old Psalms and the <i><span lang="la">Te Deum</span></i> filled the -little old Darentdale church with strains that were sweeter to -his ears than any that he had heard in the grand cathedrals -of the Continent. But now his heart was full of peace and -goodwill, and he was in the mood to enjoy anything. How -could he help wishing to be good when he had so much for -which to be thankful? We hear plenty of talk about the -salutary effects of sorrow, but is not joy salutary too? It is -the miserable who are the most tempted to wickedness. If -there were only more happiness in the world, it is almost certain -that there would be more goodness also.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The services at Darentdale church were never unnecessarily -lengthened, and before long the congregation was filing out. -Most people waited to give some sort of respectful greeting -to Mrs. Hunter and her son. Considerable sympathy was -felt for the widow, though very little affection had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>manifested toward her late husband, and the villagers -managed to let the lady feel this.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Things are looking very much the same, mother. I miss -one or two of the older people, and some of the boys and -girls have grown up like myself; but, on the whole, there is -little change. How are the Dissenters getting on? Are -there any more chapels built?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes; one or two Methodists, besides the old Baptist -and the Salvation Army.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I must turn into one of them this evening, and see how -things look there!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope you will not take to chapel going!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why not, mother?” laughed John. “It is a rule of mine -to go everywhere, and see everything that I can. And it has -answered very well, too. I assure you that one sometimes -gets splendidly entertained in most unlikely places.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope you will not seek entertainment there, at all -events; though, of course, you must do as you like now.” -Mrs. Hunter accompanied the last clause with a significant -sigh of resignation.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is a privilege you have always given me,” he -answered, gently, “and I hope it has done me no harm. But -here we are in the wood again. Mother, haven’t you heard -people say that they love the very ground they tread on? -That is how I feel to-day. I wonder how it is that we all -have such a regard for land.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Because of what it brings forth, I suppose.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I scarcely think that accounts for it altogether. Of -course, as the land is such a marvellous producer of wealth, it -is only right and natural that it should be respected and well-treated. -But it is no thought of crops that makes me like to -look at it to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is as well, perhaps,” said Mrs. Hunter, grimly, “for -he who sets his heart upon crops in these days is likely to -become heart-broken.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I know they have been very poor for several seasons.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They have been utterly and wholly disappointing failures. -I can tell you, John, that you have been spared an immense -amount of worry by your residence abroad. Rain has come -when we wanted it dry, and drought when we needed rain. -Summers have had no sunshine, and winters no snow. This -last winter, indeed, has been more like the old-fashioned kind; -so, perhaps, the tide of misfortune is turning, and we may -hope for better things. I should like one change which I suppose -I shall not live to see, and that is the reduction of the -present high rate of wages paid to agricultural labourers.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>“High wages do you call them? What do you think you -could do with an income of sixteen shillings a week, mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now, John, you need not speak so indignantly. I trust -you have not imbibed any of those socialistic notions that -seem to be prevalent. It will be so much the worse for you if -you have, for you will find that the wages are higher than you -can afford to pay; and besides, the men are neither better nor -happier for receiving them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not a Socialist,” said John, and then a diversion -occurred.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why, who is this? Old Benham, isn’t it? Then he is -still at work about the place. How are you, George?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’m hearty, thank you, Master John, sir, and how’s yourself? -How you have altered to be sure; but I knowed it was -you when I seed you going down the lane this morning. And -how did you like them furrin parts, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, I liked them very much; but there’s no place like -home.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Werry true, sir, and I’m glad you think so, and it’s a -beautiful morning to welcome you back. We’re a going to -have a better season this year, Mr. John, you take my word -for it. When that ’ere tree in the holler is covered in leaves -by the fifteenth of April we allus gets a good summer. I’ve -noticed it, bless yer heart, hundreds of times.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you though?” said John, laughingly. “I should -not have thought it. You really look young for your years.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Benham did not understand where the joke was, but he saw -that he must have said a good thing, and laughed too. “And -I hope it <em>will</em> be a good season,” he added, “since it’s the -first in your home, and we be all glad, every man and boy on -the estate, as you’ve come into your own, and long may you -enjoy it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was all very pleasant to John Dallington, who would not -soon forget the first Sunday spent in his own place. In the -afternoon he walked across the fields where the young corn -was springing, and into the woods where bursting buds and -merry songs were eloquent of spring. The delight of possession -was very keen within him, and it, perhaps, more than -anything else, made this sunny Sunday in the country to be -for ever a delightful memory with him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the evening he did as he had said he would, and -attended the service at one of the Darentdale chapels. -There, as at the church, he was recognised, and cordially -welcomed. There was something in the young man’s appearance -that bespoke for him the universal favour of his kind. -His eyes were so frank and clear, the smile upon his lips was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>so cheery and real, the tones of his voice were so hearty, -that people trusted him and liked him at once. His presence -at the chapel doors excited the liveliest approbation. Was -the young squire a Dissenter? If so, then good times were -coming for the little “cause” at Darentdale.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very glad to see you, sir,” was the welcome given to him -by one of the principal men in the place, whose duty it was -to conduct strangers to their seats. He had not very much -of this work to do, for few strangers came to Darentdale, -and fewer still to the chapel; and so he was fain to open the -pew doors for the regular attendants, and, with a bow and a -smile, fasten them in their own rented domicile of the -Sabbath. But now there was a chance to distinguish himself, -and the air with which John Dallington was marshalled -up the aisle and into the best square pew at the top was -exceedingly impressive.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John looked about him for a moment with a little curiosity. -He had never been into the place before, and he was surprised -to see the numbers crowding the body of the chapel -and pressing forward in the gallery. The fact of their presence -was in itself sufficient to cause him to feel respect for -the service, for John Dallington had not yet grown to think -that he was right and everybody else wrong, and he entertained -a profound reverence for anything that could influence -numbers of people. He saw a plain-looking building, with -uncomfortable pews, each securely buttoned, and each filled -with persons. He saw a pulpit, rather more uncomfortable-looking -than the pews, which a man with benevolent face and -white hair presently entered, and was also shut in. And he -saw, immediately under the pulpit, a large pool of water. -He did not, as probably many young men would have done, -promise himself some fun out of the entertainment. He had -too much veneration in his composition for that. He had -felt no inclination to laugh at the use made of water in the -churches of the Continental cities which he had visited, and -it must be confessed that he had seen nothing to sigh over -either. It was evident that the people were sincere and -attached some significance to the act, and that was enough -for him. It was with precisely the same placid toleration -that he looked at the baptistery in Darentdale Chapel. And, -although he wondered how any one could prefer it to that -which he attended in the morning, it was not with a feeling -of indifference that the young man regarded the service. -His whole being was susceptible to all the influences of that -day, and he felt some stirring of heart when the people sang -together their hymn of praise. The sermon was not a bad -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>piece of oratory; the speaker knew his subject and handled -it courageously, and as it proceeded John began to understand -that the pool of water was not an ordinary adjunct to -the service, but that he was about to witness the rite peculiar -to the Baptist denomination.</p> - -<p class='c011'>His attention was held throughout; but when the minister -had descended from the pulpit and was standing by the -water, his heart gave a great bound. A girl who had been -sitting in one of the pews, and whose face had been hidden -from him by other people, quietly went to the side of the pool. -“Margaret does look lovely to-night,” whispered some one -behind him; and the next moment the girl lifted her eyes, -luminous with some mysterious exultation, and they met his -own. What happened after that he scarcely knew. As soon -as he could he left the place and started across the fields to -his home.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It was no use sending me away,” he said. “The boy’s -love is living yet. Margaret, Margaret, have you forgotten? -I never shall forget, and you are all the world to me still.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But he looked and felt much more troubled than glad as -he thus uttered his thought.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III.<br> <span class='large'>A SUNDAY IN LONDON.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>To be in London at any time is an experience that is worth -having; for all good things seem to tend to this wonderful -city, which is the very heart of the world! What might of -power and influence it possesses! What vivid life of all -kinds exists in it! Some people say it is not beautiful as -Paris, Brussels, and other cities are; but they are surely -mistaken. It has a beauty and a homeliness that is all its -own. No parks are more green; no streets are more -interesting. To Arthur Knight, as he drove from West to -East on his arrival, it seemed to him the fairest, as it was -certainly the dearest, of all the world. The trouble that had -been put into his mind by Hancourt, though a very personal -one, could not absorb his thoughts as he looked upon his -fellow-countrymen in the crowded thoroughfares. “If -London were Christian, there would be hope of the whole -world,” he said; and his was the dream of how many devout -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>souls beside! With his strong heart full of the enthusiasm of -youth, he did not for a moment consider the dream to be -impossible of realisation. And with the same buoyant hopefulness -he thought that something which he had to say would -hasten that consummation. He passed by the dwellings of -the rich, and, measuring others by himself, he peopled them -with young men who were ready to live or die in the true -service of their country. He believed that the time had come -for the new aristocracy to assert itself—the aristocracy of -character and helpfulness—the nobility of the future, whose -destiny it is to rule the world with righteousness. “This -little island ought to be full of friends,” he said, echoing the -thought of one of England’s greatest teachers. But when he -reached the East-end the awful contrasts of the metropolis -impressed and saddened him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was in this part of London that Arthur Knight’s home -was. Mr. Knight, senior, had not followed the fashion, and -sought out a suburban residence. He preferred to live near -his works, and could not bring himself to believe that a -railway ride every morning and evening would be a saving of -time, or strength, or money. He lived in an old house, surrounded -by a moderately large garden, in which, however, few -things flourished but shrubs. All around the garden was a -high wall, which completely shut the place out of sight; so -that, but for the noise, one might have fancied himself miles -away from the great city. Not only was the house an ancient -one, but the furniture in it was sombre and old-fashioned. It -was not a home-like house, for no woman presided over it; -only a couple of servants kept it in something like order, and -carried out the wishes of the master. A child’s voice was -never heard making music in it, and few guests ever entered -it. If people wanted to see the owner, they generally sought -him at his office, because there they were the most likely to -find him; and no one had come to the house by invitation for -several years. There were rooms enough in it to accommodate -a large family, but Mr. Knight had lived in it, after his son -went away, in complete solitude. He had often felt sorry -that he had sent the lad from him in anger, and had not -more patiently tried to bend the young will to his own; but -the anger had died away now, and he had begun to acknowledge -that he felt lonely.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was on Saturday evening that Arthur passed through -the well-remembered gateway. His heart beat rapidly as he -entered the house, and when he took his father’s hand in his -a great wave of tender feeling swept over him. His father -was all that he had in the world. Mother, brothers, sister-all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>were gone, and he had not yet found any one on whom he -could set his heart. But he owed everything to his father, -and he resolved that it should go hardly with him indeed but -that he would prove a loyal and helpful son now that he had -at last recalled him. The old man trembled as he met him. -He was as much altered as Arthur himself, and he looked as -if the years had dealt far less kindly with him than they had -with his son. Arthur could see that the meeting was trying -his father exceedingly, and during the evening he did his best -to keep the conversation on commonplace topics.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But after breakfast the next morning he could feel that -something was coming. The church bells were chiming in -all directions, and the young man’s heart was drawn towards -the quiet and restfulness which he knew might be reached in -a few minutes. But his father wanted him, and he thought -his duty was with him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We may as well have a talk about things, Arthur,” he -said. “I suppose you don’t care about going out? I have -given up my sittings in Queen-street. I used to do a great -deal for the place, as you know; but latterly they had a man -whom I could not get on with. He insulted me, and I don’t -take an insult twice from the same person. He told me that -I did not subscribe enough money, and I was not going to -stand such impertinence from anybody. I always thought the -Nonconformist places of worship were maintained on the -voluntary principle, but I don’t call it voluntary when a man -tries to bully you out of your money.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, indeed. I wish the question of money had not to -come so much to the front.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have saved the money that religion used to cost me, -that is all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Could you not have gone to some other church?” asked -Arthur, gravely. He could not answer his father’s chuckle -with a laugh.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course I could! There were enough to choose from; -but I know they are all alike in one respect—they are all -greedy and grasping for money.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It seems that nothing can be carried on without it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then let those who like such things pay for them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur was amazed. His father was indeed changed -since those old Sundays which he remembered so well, when -he had been taken to prayer-meeting, Sunday-school, and -service from early morning until late at night. He wondered -curiously how many orthodox sermons his father must -have heard, and what had been the good of them all to him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Trade is bad,” said the old man, after a pause.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>“Is it? I am sorry to hear that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope it will not give out just yet, because I have not -done all upon which I have set my heart. I have had some -heavy losses, too, and these are the things that eat into a -man’s life. But, still, I have not done badly after all, and I -may as well tell you at once.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Here he stopped, as if he would arouse his son’s curiosity; -but Arthur only waited in courteous deference until his -father chose to say the next thing. And it was rather long -in coming.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Arthur!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, father?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am almost a millionaire!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Father!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really and truly, if I am spared a few years longer, and a -kind Providence smiles on me still, I should not wonder if you -prove to be the heir to a million of money.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur stared at his father, who had spoken the last words, -as indeed they deserved to be spoken, in tones that were as -solemn as they were triumphant.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A million?” he echoed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is between ourselves, of course. Nobody else knows -exactly, and most people would scarcely believe me if I were -to tell them.” And Mr. Knight leaned back in his chair, and -laughed softly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur did not laugh; and presently his father glanced -keenly at him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, my son, what do you think of that?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think it is an enormous fortune, and that great responsibility -attaches to it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>In fact, his thoughts were so busy that he scarcely knew -what to say. It seemed to him that many of his dreams might -almost at once become accomplished facts. More than enough -money would be his to set in action the beneficent schemes -which, night and day, had haunted him during the last two -years. And what was there to prevent him from spending his -life in his own chosen way? The business indeed? Surely -the right thing would be to retire from it altogether. And -yet,—<em>would</em> that be right or best? Arthur Knight hungered -for people; and here in his father’s employ were several thousands -of them. Nay, he would not send all these adrift, since, -in a sense, he would inherit them as well as his father’s -fortune.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He arose from his seat in excitement, and paced the room, -his father, in the meantime, scrutinising him closely.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Arthur, I wonder if you have much business capacity?” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>he said, presently. “It is harder than ever now to make -money. Competition is so keen and the price of labour is so -great that one must be clever to make headway now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you have made your headway, father.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! I have not done nearly all that I want to do. Arthur,” -said the old man, suddenly, “if you had your own way, and -were perfectly free to choose, what would you like to do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am going to try to help you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Please to answer my question, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A young man has his dreams generally, I suppose. I -should like to talk to the people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A very impatient grunt met this assertion.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you mean that you would like to be a parson?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not exactly; but don’t you think it would be a good plan -if men of means gave themselves to the work of the Church, -so that all the money raised could go to beneficent purposes, -instead of the people having to consider the minister’s salary? -However, I do not feel that I ought to be a minister.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A Member of Parliament, Arthur? That you might very -well be. There’s a wretched set of muffs in Parliament now. -They ought to interfere in some matters more than they -do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a good thing that the markets of the world are open -to us,” said Arthur. “I wish, though, that some of our merchants -were a little more patriotic. They are sending out -such worthless goods that they are getting a bad name for -England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is not their fault, but the fault of the foreign dealers -who are crying out for cheap things, and will always buy at -the least price. A man must in self-defence put inferior -articles in circulation if people will not give the good price -for the good thing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But he might meet the difficulty by taking less profit for -himself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why in the world should he? He has himself to look -after. He offers the articles that are asked for at a price -which the people are willing to give. What more can be -expected of him?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur resolved to use caution in the disclosure of his -thoughts on the subject. For the next hour he kept his -father amused with tales of his adventures.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Later, Mr. Knight again brought business forward; and the -day of rest was to Arthur a very different one from that for -which he longed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They were still talking together when an unexpected -diversion arose.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>The gate which formed the only entrance to the grounds -of Brent House was always kept locked, and could only be -opened from the inside. There was a ring at the bell, and -when the boy unlocked it three men immediately stepped -inside. While the porter was asking their business, one of -them again opened the gate, and a dozen other men pressed -in. Mr. Knight and Arthur were endeavouring to discover -what it all meant, and they saw that a great crowd was in the -street. The frightened porter came breathlessly into the -room.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If you please, sir, here are men who say they are a deputation, -and they come on very particular business.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Tell them to take their particular business away, then, as -fast as they can.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The boy went out with the message, and soon came again.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They say they are your workmen, sir, and what they have -to say concerns you very much. And they say they are not -going until they have had their talk with you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, that’s it, is it? Set the dog on them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur rose hastily.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“May I see them, father? They seem respectful and quiet -enough. Let me hear what they have to say.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, Arthur; I would rather you keep out of it. Would -you let them tell you what they want if you were me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I certainly would.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Knight threw up the window.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now, then, you fellows, what is the meaning of this?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A man who was in the front touched his cap and cleared -his throat, and began a short speech.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Beg pardon sir, but we are come to lay our case before -you, man to man. We have been given to understand that -the factory in Chislehurst-street belongs to you, though it is -carried on in the name of Woolton and Company. We are -all employed at that factory; and we are not satisfied with -the wages. We want a rise, sir, begging your pardon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And so do we,” said another man, in tones that were far -less respectful. “We find that a good many of them works -at the back of Stepton belong to you; and it is impossible -for a man to keep his family respectable on the wages you -give. We’re going to strike and demand better pay, and we -have come here to-day to give you notice to that effect.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, we have,” began another, but Mr. Knight angrily -stopped him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If you don’t clear out of this directly I will have you all -arrested for trespass,” he said. “And you are very much -mistaken if you think this is the way to get what you want. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>If you have a case, lay it before the man from whose hands -you take your money, and approach me through him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A scornful laugh broke in here, and several voices said, “A -lot of good that would do!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I may as well tell you now you are here,” continued -Mr. Knight, “that this is no time to ask for higher wages. -Trade is bad, and the manufacturers are not getting the -money they ought. If you don’t like to take the wages you -can leave them. I could get your places filled to-morrow, -and with better men than you. So go about your business. -And remember, you are marked men. I shall know your -faces again, and you needn’t be surprised if you get notice -to quit.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Please to understand, sir,” said the first speaker, “that -we come as a deputation. Pretty well all your men are at -the back of us. And we was to tell you that we would give -you a week to consider it. We shall be glad to state our -grievances to you, and also to mention the terms we think -fair, if you will appoint an interview. Our Union will back -us, and we don’t mean to go on in the old way, and so we give -you notice.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Knight closed his window, and again ordered his -servant to set the dog loose; but the men quietly withdrew, -pulling the gate to behind them, not, however, before the -owner of the house and his son had another glimpse of the -waiting crowd outside.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Knight was in a rage. “What do you think of that -for a piece of impertinence?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How much can the men earn, father?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, different sums. Nobody has less than fifteen shillings -a week.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should hope not. That is very little for a man who has -a family.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, the family is no business of mine. I don’t employ -more men than I can help. I like women and boys better. -A woman is well off if she gets ten shillings a week, and she -does as much work as a man will do for a pound.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you ever thought what a fair and right thing it -would be to give your workpeople a share in your profits? -You know that both individuals and companies have tried -the plan, and found it answer. A man who has a stake in -the concern will be more likely to do his best, and to work -economically and diligently, than one who has no share in it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What nonsense, Arthur! They do have a share in the -profits when they get their wages, don’t they?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was inevitable that Arthur, being a young man, should -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>look at things differently from the old one—young men -always do. But he was sensible enough to be held in check -by the reflection that his father had—what he certainly had -not—experience. This made him resolve to be careful of his -words, and only to speak when an opportunity had been given -him to prove things. He knew, however, that sooner or later -he would have to tell his father what his own views were, -which he would certainly put into force if he had the opportunity, -because he thought it quite possible that when his -father was informed he would take care that his business -should be put in other hands. Arthur believed that wealth, -whether inherited or won, was a trust to be used for others.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It seems to me,” he said, “that their share is often not a -fair one. For instance, if I have invented an article which -meets the needs or tastes of my customers, I have the right to -what of financial good it brings if I can make the article with -my own hands; but if I have to employ other hands they -ought to have a much larger share than usually they do. -And if I am getting rich, I ought not to lay more and more -by, unless I give those who help me to get rich more and -more. The fact is, father, that a Christian man may not do -what others may. He cannot be selfish, and keep all the -good things that come in his way; he must help others, and -try to find his joy in that. You know money is no real good -to a man. He can only eat as much, and drink as much, and -wear as many clothes as others. But if he scatter his wealth, -and make a hundred or a thousand families better off because -he is rich, that seems to me splendid, and the lot of that -man must be the best in the world.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur glanced at his father as he finished. His words -had a curious effect upon the old man. He was bitterly disappointed, -and yet, as he listened to his son, he was conscious -of a feeling that was more like pride and gratification than -anger.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So those are your views, are they?” he said. “I am very -glad you have told me what I have to expect. But I am not -going to quarrel with you to-day. I will think what is the -next best thing to do. Would you not like a walk? I am -going to be busy for an hour or two.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur gladly went forth to mingle for a little in the life -of the metropolis. It was not much like Sunday down in the -East-end of the great city, where the stalls were in the -streets, and the shops were open, and there was a great -tumult among the people who were buying and selling, -arguing and quarrelling, and, above all, drinking and smoking. -Places of worship enough there were to contain them all, but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>few appeared to recognise the Father’s house, or to care to -enter it. The noise of London seemed to surge round the -churches and chapels, which are like harbours of refuge in -the stormy sea—only, most of the people preferred to be out -on the waters rather than within the calm. Centres of influence -and helpful service were these, every one of them. If -the ministers and the members did not work together with -those of other churches, they had each their own set of -workers, all honestly endeavouring to meet, in the way they -thought best, the needs of the neighbourhood. Many stories -of heroism and self-denial could be told of those who were -consecrating their life to this East-end work, and labouring -on, through good report and evil report, often with scant -success to encourage them. A few of the people were lifted -up and out of the mass of wickedness; but so few that they -seemed to make little difference, for the streets were as -terrible as ever. Still bad language shocked the ears of those -who did not live amongst it; still drunkenness and cruelty -appeared to flourish more than anything beside. And on this -day the men and women who talked together in angry voices -in some of the most densely-populated places were more -fierce than usual because one of their favourite public-houses -had lately been closed. Arthur Knight was shocked and -pained with what he saw and heard, but he was not rendered -hopeless and despairing. “They ought never to have been -suffered to get into this state,” he thought. “Nearly all -these men and women were once in the Sunday-school. How -is it that they were let to slip away from those who were -their best friends? But the hope of the future is with the -young. The present generation of the young must be -secured somehow.” And as he half-uttered aloud these -words he passed a large hall filled with boys and girls listening -delightedly to a man whom he half-envied, such power -had his eloquence over them. Then he thought of the latest -developments of Christian endeavour, and his heart leaped -with joy as he remembered that he could now become associated -in these and other services to humanity, so well and -wisely rendered in modern times; and it was with a happy -assurance that he went home, for the words that were upon -his lips was a prophecy in process of fulfilment: “The kingdoms -of this world <em>shall become</em> the kingdoms of our Lord -and of His Christ.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV.<br> <span class='large'>COUSIN TOM.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“Mother, how is Cousin Tom?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington had been enjoying a ride over his -farm before breakfast, and had returned, as he said, with an -enormous appetite. The morning was delightful, and the -sweet scent of the early spring flowers came in at the open -window as he spoke. Mrs. Hunter assumed a listening -attitude, and then replied, “If I am not mistaken, Tom is -coming to answer for herself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next moment John was at the door, and in time to -assist his cousin to alight from her horse; but she was by his side -before he could quite reach her. This lady with the incongruous -name, “Tom Whitwell,” was the youngest daughter of -Henry Whitwell, Esq., of Hornby Hall, the father of eleven -daughters and no son. Mr. Whitwell had waited very -anxiously for the son who did not come; and when the eleventh -daughter was announced, he declared that he did not wish to -look at her. But meeting the disappointed gaze of his wife he -relented.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Never mind, wife,” he said, “we will make the best of the -bad bargain. This last comer shall have a boy’s name, and a -boy’s education, and, as far as possible, a boy’s portion. She -shall be called Tom, after my father.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Whitwell suggested a compromise, and the baby was -eventually named Thomasine Grace Whitwell. But she had -always been called Tom, and to please her father she had endeavoured -to live up to her name. She early learned to ride -and row and play cricket. Her brown hair was cut short and -parted on one side, and she wore the most gentlemanly hats, -jackets, collars, boots, and gloves that could be bought. She -cultivated the lower notes of her voice, and when asked to sing -professed herself “only able to do bass.” She was fond of -mathematics and science, and considered herself a very logical -reasoner. She was a doughty defender of women, but a -merciless critic of their weaknesses. She tried to look at -things from a man’s standpoint, and laughed at the pleasures -and pursuits of her own sex. But she did not do this when -one of her friends, Margaret Miller, was near, for Margaret -had a way of smiling quietly, and saying, “There is no more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>womanly woman living, really, at heart, you know, than -little Tom Whitwell.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington thought that she looked as fresh as the -morning; her clear grey eyes were bright with pleasure; and -as she glanced into her cousin’s face her cheeks glowed, and -she was a vision of health and happiness that quite delighted -him. Tom had always been a favourite with John, and he -was unfeignedly glad to see her now.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You have really got back, John! And how well you look!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So do you, Tom; and not a day older than when I went -away.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, thank you! You have grown polite, I find. I cannot -return the compliment, for you look about ten years older.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do I indeed? I am glad of that. I want to be old, to -inspire you all with respect. Will you have some breakfast, -Tom?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If I do, it will be the third this morning. The air makes -one hungry. How do you like England, John?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I like it very much. I have been long enough away to -make me think the old country charming.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“‘No place like home,’ and all that sort of thing, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! And ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ -and all that sort of thing. You look splendid, Tom; and I do -believe you have grown. Would not you like to see the places -I have seen?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I would, indeed. You have been everywhere, haven’t you? -And I have been staying in England all the time. It is well -to be you, John.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is precisely my opinion. But I have seen nothing -more beautiful than the view from this window.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And truly. Of course I have seen many places a thousand -times more magnificent, but none more lovely and picturesque. -The world altogether is very beautiful, Tom. You come -upon proofs of it in unexpected places. There are countries -that everybody visits for the sake of their mountains or their -rivers, or some special features of interest; but those less -known are not the least lovely, and I have frequently enjoyed -most when I have expected nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is not a very happy world, though, John.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think it is! What has given you that idea?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, everything! I have seen two persons this morning, -one a woman and one a child, both poor and both suffering. -And the doctors are of no use. John, do you know I mean to -be a doctor myself?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Indeed?” laughed John. “Well, it may be desirable. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>human race is increasing at too rapid a rate. Some parts of -England are inconveniently crowded, and even the colonies -are getting overstocked; so that anything which helps to -thin the population will not be an unmixed evil. Taking all -things into consideration, I do not know a less objectionable -method of augmenting the death-rate than appointing a considerable -number of lady-doctors. And there is no reason in -the world why you should not be one of them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You know nothing about the matter, or you would not talk -so flippantly. When are you coming to Hornby? Father -would like to see you soon, and so would my sisters.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps I can ride back with you. You will not return -yet, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Before Tom could answer a dog-cart drove up to the door, -and the faces of both ladies flushed and looked confused.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Whom have we here?” asked John with interest.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is my stepson,” replied his mother shortly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The visitor entered, and was introduced as Mr. William -Hunter. John Dallington was kindly disposed, but he did -not like his mother’s stepson, who came in with a very free-and-easy -air, only removing a big cigar from his mouth to -enable him to speak.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How do, Dallington? Congratulate you, I’m sure. Good -morning, mother. How are you, Miss Whitwell? Feel myself -fortunate in meeting you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The new-comer threw himself into a chair and continued -to smoke his cigar. This irritated Dallington, who was not a -smoker, and disliked the habit in others. The coolness of -the man who could behave so rudely in the presence of ladies -annoyed him. “Do you dislike the smoke?” he asked of his -cousin.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Hunter laughed. “Miss Whitwell is probably herself -a smoker,” he said. “She is too sensible a lady to set herself -against smoking, for that would be to set men against her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom flushed violently. “It is scarcely worth while to -contradict you,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter interposed with some remarks upon the -weather; she was extremely anxious that the two young men -should be friends, but she had some misgivings, for she could -not but know that her son and son-in-law were of very -opposite natures, and that their tastes, therefore, were not -likely to be the same. John Dallington, however, was too -much interested in his cousin to give a second thought to -William Hunter. “Will you come into the garden, Tom?” -he said. “I have forgotten the names of some of the English -flowers, and you must remind me of them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>“I do so dislike that man,” she said, as soon as they were -on the outside of the house. “He is a most unpleasant -person, and not good either. Do not have much to do with -him, John; and you must remember that you are master, -and assert yourself accordingly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope he will behave himself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not think he knows how.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We must give him a few lessons. But never mind him -now, Tom. Tell me about yourself and everybody. What -have you been doing all this long time? Have you got -yourself engaged yet?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not I, indeed. There has been far too much to do. I -have been making myself a practical farmer, and I am great -on lands and soils and crops; so if you are at a loss, consult -your cousin.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you; I will with pleasure, for I am sure that I have -very much to learn.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I am sure that farming was never so difficult as now. -Father often looks worried, though he keeps wonderfully well, -on the whole.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad of that. I want to see him. I shall have plenty -to do, I find. I have actually already had an invitation to a -wedding.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mary Wythburn’s, I suppose? You must accept it, John. -I am to be one of the bridesmaids, and many of your old -friends will be there.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Give me a few names. First, the bridegroom: who -is he?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Alfred Greenholme is the bridegroom, Dr. Stapleton the -groomsman, and the vicar, Mr. Sherborne, will also be present -as a friend. The other bridesmaids are Hilda Copeland and -Margaret Miller.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom glanced at her cousin as she uttered the last name, -and saw that his countenance brightened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How is Miss Miller, Tom? Are you as good friends as -ever?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, we are good friends, and Margaret is very well. -Which are the flowers whose names you have forgotten?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid we have passed them. Let us go back and -look for them. I hope Alfred Greenholme is not as a man -what he was as a boy, or Miss Wythburn is little to be -congratulated.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She does not congratulate herself. In fact, I know that -she is wretched. There is nothing very tangible against Mr. -Greenholme. He is a lazy, self-pleasing, good-natured man; -but girls of these days—some of them, at all events—want -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>more than that. Mary Wythburn is a very clever girl, and -far-seeing, too. She denounces such people as Mr. Greenholme. -Like Mrs. Booth, she gets into a furious mood when -she sees hosts of poor wretches starving, because they cannot -get remunerative work to do, while men and women in good -circumstances—professing Christianity, too—seem to have -not a thought in life excepting that which touches their own -pleasure. She thinks that if we are real Christians we -cannot, and ought not, to be happy while so many are -miserable, and I agree with her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I often think the same. But she ought not to marry -Greenholme if she feels like that. And the invitations are -out?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; so I suppose the wedding will take place. But I shall -not quite believe it until I see her married. John, there are -hundreds, if not thousands, of the best people in England -who are absolutely weary of things as they are; and they are -growing determined to change them, too. You have come -home in time to help. We only want one or two men of -genius and grace to show us the way. I believe the way is -not through the giving of alms, for the money given to the -poor every winter is enormous—besides special magnificent -gifts for special purposes—and yet things are little better for -it all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Tom, have you been surreptitiously in correspondence -with my old comrade, Arthur Knight?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Who and what is Arthur Knight? He has a good name.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Has he not? And he is a true knight, too—a splendid -fellow, and great on this subject. He says things need not -be another year as they are; and declares that it only requires -a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull altogether to -accomplish such a revolution as shall crown England with -truer glory than she has ever known before.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I expect it is a revolution that we want. There has -been a great deal of pottering, but the right thing has yet -to be done. John, I must be going. Will you order my -horse?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, and ride with you. It will be like old times.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They had a delightful ride, and almost forgot that they -were not boy and girl together. They went the longest way -round, and yet reached their destination sooner than they -wished.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Hornby Hall was an old-fashioned manor house—large, -substantial, and comfortable—standing in its own grounds, -and itself covering considerable space. It was built in the -Gothic style, and had any number of large, low rooms, with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>thick walls, and ample chimney-corners and enticing window -seats.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The master, “a fine old English gentleman,” came forward -to greet his nephew with much cordiality, and John Dallington -felt proud of his uncle, as well he might, for he was -an upright man, who could not do a mean thing, stately in -form and spotless in character, a magistrate, a member of -the County Council, a man whose name was respected through -the whole province, whose keen grey eyes seemed to see -everything, whose courteous bearing delighted everybody, -who was beloved and honoured by the poor and admired and -trusted by the rich; a man without reproach, whose glory -was not in what he had, but in what he was. It was a privilege -to be related to him, as Dallington felt.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Welcome home, my boy,” he said, kindly. “I am glad -you have come into your own, and that we shall see something -of you again. I wish you health and happiness for -your new life. Come in, and be made much of by your aunt -and cousins; they are not all such forward things as Tom, -but they will be just as glad to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And indeed they appeared to be, and seemed bent on -spoiling the returned wanderer, who might have been a -veritable prodigal son, so eager were they to lavish the best -of everything upon him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John spent some very pleasant hours that day at Hornby -Hall, hearing the news and telling stories of his own experiences. -His cousins were merry girls, quick at repartee, and -full of good-humoured fun. Some of them were married, but -there were quite enough of them at home to fill the old house -with pleasant sights and sounds.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the afternoon Mr. Whitwell took his nephew over the -farm and showed him the improvements he had made during -his absence. “You must see my model cottages, John,” he -said. “The old places were falling into dis-repair, and were -not very comfortable to live in; but you will be pleased with -these, I think.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“These are scarcely like the old style of agricultural -cottages.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; are they? But the old style of thing will not do in -these days. You see they have large gardens. I am not a -Radical, you know, John, but a steady-going Conservative; -and that is how it is that I have come to see what a shame it -is for a man to work on a farm, and have spacious fields and -meadows all around him, and yet not have a patch of ground -large enough to grow a bed of cabbages or a few potatoes to -call his own. Monstrous, when you come to think of it!”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>“Yes, so it is,” assented Dallington; “but I should not -have thought that such ideas on your part were the outcome -of Conservatism.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Would you not? I am happy to say that most of the old -Tories of my acquaintance have come to have the same -opinion as I.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad to hear it. I shall have to do something to my -own cottages, I expect. Why, you have actually planted -these gardens with fruit trees.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! It does not do to expect too much from my -tenants. If they take care of the trees, and train them and -eat the fruit, it is as much as one has a right to look for.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They are very pretty cottages.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad you like them. And they are convenient. They -have rooms enough, and they are not too small. At one time -a man was satisfied with a four-roomed cottage, no matter -how many sons and daughters he had; but all that has passed -away before a better education, thank God!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The gardens look well kept.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They are; and they provide vegetables enough to last the -whole year. The people are all right, you know, if they have -fruit and vegetables, corn and milk.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you raised the rents?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; nor yet the wages. The men are quite alive to the -value of the house and garden. But come and look at the -crops.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The estate was, as John knew, strictly entailed. At Mr. -Whitwell’s death it would pass away from his family of girls -to the next heir, who was his brother’s son. But all the same -for that, indeed, partly because of it, the squire of Hornby -was scrupulously anxious to do the very best he could for the -property. The farm buildings were either new or kept in -perfect repair. He was careful not to impoverish any of the -land, but by all the means which modern science had made -possible he nursed it for the heir as carefully as if he had been -his son. The said heir was a young man of whom his uncle -did not approve, and, vain as it was, he could not keep the -wish from his mind that, since he had no sons of his own, -John Dallington had been the next in succession.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was late in the day when John left to go home, accompanied -part of the way by three of his cousins. Tom did not -go, but she stood at the window watching until they were -out of sight. Then her father called her into the library, -where the two were often together hard at work for many -hours.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is too late for those accounts, Tom, I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>“I think it is, father. They can wait until to-morrow, -cannot they?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! Very well. John has become a fine young -fellow, hasn’t he?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I think he is very much improved. I wonder if he -has seen his lawyer?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, poor fellow! No; he has not seen him yet. If he had -he would not be as light-hearted as he is. I think his father -did not treat him quite fairly. The lad ought to have been -told how things were. And then it was too hard for Dallington -to leave so much power in his wife’s hands. She has made -things a good deal worse for John. He will find it as much -as he can do to hold his own.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose he can sell part of his land?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, if he can get anybody to buy it. But land does not -now fetch the price it ought, and farming is not what it used -to be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom was silent for some minutes, and her face became first -red and then pale.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She wanted to say something to her father. Generally she -thought aloud in his presence, such good friends were they; -but she needed more courage than she had now.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At last she rose and stood beside him, putting her hand on -his shoulder, and turning her face so that he could not see it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Father,” she said, trying to steady her voice and speak in -her ordinary tones, “do you remember promising me that I -should have that mortgage, or whatever it is, for my -portion?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course I do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“May I have the papers and keep them in my possession -now?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why, what do you want them for, Tom? What possible -good could they do you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No good at all, only I should like them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell hesitated.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you think you are quite capable of taking care of -them? They are worth three thousand pounds, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I do not forget their value. You are not afraid to -trust me, father, are you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I trust you with everything, Tom, as you know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Mr. Whitwell said no more; and Tom waited.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Presently she sighed, and pressed her lips to her father’s -cheek. “Never mind,” she said, “if you would rather not. -I am sure you know best what is right and wise.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell arose, unlocked a safe, and took from it a -parchment.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>“Here it is,” he said. “Take care of it, and I think it -will be prudent of you to give it back into my charge when -you have looked it through.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom took the paper without a word, and her father did not -notice how pale she was. She kissed him, and, going swiftly -to her own room, locked the parchment in a drawer.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But that night she took it out and read it through, every -word. Then a strange expression came over her face, and -she folded up the parchment, muttering, “If only I dared! -If only I dared!” and held it above the flame of the candle, -so near that it began to be scorched. And then she opened -it, and spread it on the bed, and fell on her knees to pray, -but burst instead into a flood of tears.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V.<br> <span class='large'>THE DUTY THAT IS NEAREST.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Arthur Knight scarcely knew whether pleasure or -pain predominated in his mind during the first days -which he spent at home. London interested him intensely. -The vivid life, the untiring resolution, the concentrated energy -of the people amazed and delighted him. And when he saw -all that was being done to further the cause of righteousness, -he was as proud of his country as an Englishman ought to be. -But that which had presented itself to his mind as the blot upon -the picture, when he contemplated it from a distance, filled -him with as much wonder and sadness when he was on the -spot. Since his people could do so much, why did they not -do more? They had conquered so many worlds; why did -they not conquer their own? Were they as great as they -used to be? Were they not rather afraid of being great? -What was it that dominated most of the individuals that -made up a London crowd? It needed very little discernment -to discover that the one great desire of the people was -<em>to get on</em>—not to get <em>up</em>, or to rise higher in intelligence or -character, but to be able to pay a pound or two more of rent, -and a longer bill at the tailor’s, or grocer’s, or milliner’s. -Certainly there was nothing great, but everything that was -infinitesimally little, in such an ambition as that! But he -knew—a traveller in all lands must always know—that simple -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>living brings as much happiness as luxurious fare, and he -believed that if the spell could be broken, and the people who -were so eager to get on that they had not time to think of -other things could once get the fashion changed, they would -rise to their own capabilities, and, completely changing their -standpoint, would become really great in character and -achievement. And he believed that the time for this was -coming.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first ten days of Arthur’s return were very memorable -ones.</p> - -<p class='c011'>One of the incidents that ever afterward remained in his -memory was that of his first attempt to speak to English -people of that which was in his heart. He was passing down -the City-road when he noticed that men were rapidly entering -the historical Wesley Chapel. He went into the building, -and found that a Conference of Christian men had been -called to consider whether means could not be taken beforehand -to prevent the misery which every recurring winter -brought to the East-end of London. It was felt by the conveners -of the meeting that it would be a wise step to prepare -for the inevitable, and that the appalling distress might be to -a great extent prevented if good arrangements were made in -time.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight knew that the Wesleyans had been moving -forward for a considerable period. He knew, too, that the -last few years had seen the Salvation Army and other -organisations making extraordinary endeavours to stem the -tide of misery and sin, and that, indeed, every department of -the Christian Church was working for this end, with much -personal effort, and by means of enormous sums of -money both specially and annually contributed. But -the disappointing thing was that so little difference -seemed to have been made by it all. The world of -London was scarcely better. Still men cursed God and -died. Still there were cases of death from starvation and -cold; even in the last winter thousands of men were unemployed, -while drunkenness, cruelty and sin seemed as -strong as ever.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The speakers at the meeting referred to this in tones of -disappointment and sorrow. They could not but thank God -for what had been done; but they felt that the work was -piecemeal and inefficient. A paper was read suggesting -some new methods of raising money, and indicating some -fresh methods of service, and then the meeting was thrown -open, and any one who had anything to say which could be -said in five minutes was invited to say it.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>This was Arthur Knight’s opportunity. He waited until -several persons had spoken, and then he sent up his name, -and made his five minutes’ speech.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Much that we wish for could be accomplished in a single -year, in one way,” he said. “Christian brothers, let us be -heroic for Christ’s sake! Let us join our forces and work -together. We have our differences and divisions, and these are -the things that weaken us. How long shall we ourselves hinder -the fulfilment of our Lord’s prayer, ‘That they all may be -one, that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me.’ If -we were to lift up the white flag of truce and fight under it, -every Christian man, shoulder to shoulder, the battle of peace -and righteousness could be won. These things that you -deplore need not exist another year. England is so small, -and, therefore, so manageable. It is mapped out into parishes -and into Parliamentary divisions. You have no difficulty in -getting into contact with every man when you want his vote. -Your School Board officers know the number and age of every -child in the kingdom. It will be easy, therefore, for a committee -of church members to ascertain the circumstances of -every individual around the centre of a church or chapel. -Gentlemen, nearly two-thirds of the entire population of -England are members of some Christian church; the money, -the intelligence, the influence, the character, the ability of the -nation are mostly among these two-thirds. What of the -other third? Do you believe that we are powerless to deal -with it—two to one, and more? Why, we are strong enough -to see that every man has work to do, and every man -does it, that the idle shall be forced to labour, that -the inefficient shall be taught, that the sick shall be -nursed and the children fed, that our ships shall be laden -with good things only, that our people shall not be drunken, -that another language than that of swearing and blasphemy -shall be heard in our streets, that cruelty and vice shall hide -their heads. Sirs, we are the masters in England; why, then, -do we allow the things which shame us to exist? Only -because we are craven and selfish, and small when we ought -to be great; only because we care more for our denominations, -and our party, and our own personal ease than for Christ and -righteousness. Shall we change all this? You are able. Are -you willing and ready? Will you, sons of Wesley, who -occupy the middle position between the Church of England -and Nonconformity, lead the way?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Cries of “Yes, yes!” greeted this appeal, and when Knight -sat down many rose to their feet to echo his words. Later -they called for him to speak again; but it was found that he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>had left, and he did not know till afterwards what was the -result of his first speech.</p> - -<p class='c011'>His heart was beating rapidly as he went forth into the -London streets. He had only uttered a part of his convictions, -but he was thankful to have had the opportunity to do -that. He crossed over, and stood for a few minutes among -the graves of Bunhill Fields, and saw the names of the brave -men who had done the work which God gave them to do; and -he vowed that he would lose no chance of using his voice, -whenever and wherever he could, for he longed to see the -Church united in the work which was so evidently waiting to -be done.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But he had much to engross him in his own and his father’s -affairs. He spent some hours of every day in the office, -endeavouring to grasp the real state of things there, and -finding much to make him sad. His father was very disinclined -to give way to the men; and one of those much-to-be-regretted -labour disputes seemed inevitable. The men -appeared to have very little power, really, to secure that -which they wanted. Crowds of unemployed were always -ready to step into vacant places. For one situation there -would be fifty applicants, and this made it possible for masters -to be to some extent independent of the men, notwithstanding -the trades unions. And there had arisen an antiunionist -association composed of men who helped each other -and fought for each other, and who were now numerically -strong enough to resist the trades union men who in a strike -tried to keep them out of wharves, docks, and factories. -Mr. Knight, finding that women and boys could do his -work as well as men, and for less wages, had in his employ -many thousands of these, and this was a grievance of which -the men bitterly complained. It happened in an enormous -number of cases that men were idling about, and drinking, -while their wives were employed at factories, in consequence -of which the homes were wretched, and the children sorely -neglected. There were, indeed, a hundred wrongs that -called for reform, and a crying need of some one with a -clear head and a kindly Christian heart to put matters -straight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight knew from the first day that he spent in his -father’s office that under existing conditions it was no place -for him. He would not, he simply could not, for the sake of -all the wealth of the world, so do violence to his conscience, -and slay all that was best in him, as to continue to sell goods -that were next to worthless, and keep thousands of families -on the verge of starvation, while he was getting richer every -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>year. So much he settled with himself once for all, although -he equally resolved to have no rupture with his father.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was troubled at the signs of seething discontent and -unrest which were visible; and he succeeded in winning a -promise from his father that he would consider one or two -suggestions that he made. He had mentioned Hancourt, and -although Mr. Knight would not promise to reinstate him, he -commissioned his son to visit him for the purpose of discovering -whether he would return if an offer were made him, -and, accordingly, on Saturday afternoon, Arthur made his -way to Hancourt’s residence. He was not at home, but as -his wife expected him shortly, he waited.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hancourt was a good-looking woman, with a pleasant -face, and with lady-like manners. The home was the picture -of neatness and comfort, and it was evident that its mistress -was a person of refined tastes and habits. The arrangements -of the house were artistic even, and there was a warmth and -homeliness about them which were to Arthur very attractive. -And Mrs. Hancourt could talk well. She had read -books, and thought about them. She had ideas of her own, -and a happy way of expressing them. She was a good listener, -too, and anxious to learn; and a very delightful half-hour -was passed by Arthur, who felt as if he had found a little -haven of refuge after a sea of trouble. Mrs. Hancourt had -two beautiful children—the one, a boy between seven and -eight; the other, a girl between five and six. A lovely picture -they made, standing together and looking through their blue -eyes into Arthur’s face with the frank fearlessness which -characterises English children. They came very demurely to -shake hands with Arthur, and the little girl, whom they called -Sissie, lifted her pretty face to be kissed, and was perfectly -willing to sit upon his knee, and to be told about little girls -whose faces were black. But after a time, when the conversation -became uninteresting, she said, “I like you, Mr. Arthur—you -are a nice man; but I like my brother best. Please -set me down.” And the children were soon happily at play -together by the window. After a time Mrs. Hancourt was -called away, and Arthur took a book, and appeared to be -engrossed by it. In reality, he was being greatly entertained -by the little ones.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now, Sissie, you are a prisoner, you know; the giant has -locked you up, but I am a knight coming to deliver you. -Look at me through the back of the chair—that is a strong -iron gate, a fortress. I shall climb over the bars of the gate, -and mount the tower, and pick you up, and carry you off, -and make you my wife.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>“And then shall I crown you with flowers?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, of course! Knights are always crowned with -flowers.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are they the crowns they wear in heaven, Geoff? Jane -told me we should all be crowned in heaven.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t think they are flowers—they are gold crowns they -have there.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are the gold crowns heavy?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose so; gold is the heaviest metal, I know, for I -learnt that in my lesson book.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, then, how their heads must ache! But perhaps they -haven’t any heads in heaven.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sissie, how foolish! Of course they have heads, or how -could they be crowned?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The girl was silent a little after that, but presently she -said, musingly, “I’m so afraid I shall forget—and I don’t -want to forget—but I can’t quite remember what heaven was -like.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sissie, what do you mean? Why, you never were in -heaven!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, Geoff! I was in heaven before I came here.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What nonsense! I’m sure you have never been in heaven, -at all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Haven’t I? Then where was I?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Geoff was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he said, -“I think it was like this: God thought He would like to -have a little Sissie, so He said, ‘Let there be Sissie!’ and -there was Sissie.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I suppose that was it. Geoffrey, say a little bit of -the ‘Fairy Queen.’”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Geoff repeated a few lines which he had been taught, but -his sister interrupted him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Geoff, where is the Fairy Queen now?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“In heaven, I expect,” was the answer.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How long has she been there?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Most all the time, I should think. You know, Sissie, our -Lord was in the grave three days; but common people like -the Fairy Queen have to stay longer—I should think about a -fortnight or three weeks.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Here the conversation abruptly terminated, for Arthur -Knight burst into a laugh so loud and startling that the children -were quite disconcerted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am so sorry, but I really could not help it,” he said. -And then the door opened, and Mr. Hancourt entered, looking -very pale and anxious.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Mr. Arthur,” he said, “I am sorry to see you here. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>hoped you were at home. I am afraid there will be a riot -this evening. The men who are disappointed are swearing -that they will seek your father and compel him to listen to -them. Indeed, they are talking very foolishly and wildly -about revenge, and all that sort of thing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Your money or your life, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Exactly. It is a great pity that Mr. Knight lives so near -the works. Most people reside a long way from their places -of business, somewhere in the country, where their men cannot -find them; but Mr. Knight has not chosen to do this, and -as the men know where to find him they are going to march -to his house. And they talk about having a band, and I am -afraid they have a great many sympathisers and friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I came to ask you if you could give me any advice, or say -what can be done.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid it is too late to do anything.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“In any case I must hasten home and stand by my father. -Will you come with me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>As soon as a cab could be procured they drove away, telling -the driver to make all possible speed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the crowd reached Brent House before them, and it -was a more ugly crowd than that of the week before. As -Hancourt and Arthur entered the gate, Mr. Knight showed -himself at the window, and this was a signal for all sorts of -cries and execrations.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Give us our rights!” “Hypocrite!” “Robber!” -“Tyrant!” “Live and let live, can’t you?” “Do as you’d -be done by, or it will be the worse for you!” “What did you -turn Hancourt away for?” “And Hamilton?” “And -Allen?” “Better men than you are!” These and worse -things were shouted by the crowd, which presented a very -threatening aspect.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Come into the house,” said Arthur to Hancourt. “We -can get in by the side door.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; I will not come in. I will be among the men, and see -if they will hear reason, while you go to your father.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur found Mr. Knight greatly excited.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wanted you to go for the police,” he said. “But I have -sent for them, and they will be here soon. The wretches! I -did not expect them to-day. I meant to have had the place -guarded to-morrow, but they have stolen a march upon me. -And yet I cannot think how they got in. Those stupid -servants must have undone the gate for them. What a -horrible noise they are making! But they are only bringing -worse things upon themselves.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Father,” said Arthur, “it is a pity to have all this fuss if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>we can help it. You are going to let me have a voice in the -business, are you not? And I will tell them so, and that -there will be two of us to consider their claims and -grievances.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Before Mr. Knight could answer he threw open the window, -and his clear voice rang through the crowd. “Men,” he said, -“I want you to give us a little time——” A stone was -thrown at him, which struck his head and knocked him -down.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was not the first time that a messenger of peace had been -misunderstood and ill-treated. Arthur thought at the -moment of other peacemakers, and he kept his temper.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He rose to his feet, and, with the blood streaming from his -head, he again faced the people. “The man who threw that -stone does not know me,” he said, “or he would not have -thrown it. I am Arthur Knight——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! the man who threw the stone knew that,” shouted -a voice.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am going to help my father in his business, and I promise -you that I will try to see that justice is done, both to him and to -you. If your grievances are real they shall be removed, as far -as I am able to arrange things; and if your claims are reasonable -and just they shall be met—if possible. I cannot tell -how far you are right. I know you are not at all right in -coming here to make a commotion, and calling names and -throwing stones—all this is unmanly and unworthy of you—but -you may think that you have some excuse, and I will hear -all you have to say about it if you choose three men, and let -them meet me on Monday evening at eight o’clock in the -office. Will you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, sir!” The words came in a great shout. The effect -of Arthur’s little speech had been marvellous. Where was its -power? In the words or in the man? These questions were -to be often asked in the future.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And what are we to do on Monday morning?” some one -asked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What are you to do? Why, go to work, to be sure, if you -want your wages. Don’t strike, don’t lose time. You cannot -afford that as well as we can, you know. Be in your places -on Monday morning, and do your best for us, and I promise -you that I will do my best for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>How was it that they all believed him? They certainly did. -There was not a man who doubted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Three cheers for the young governor!” said one, and a -hearty hurrah was raised.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you,” said Arthur, when the noise ceased, “I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>shall be glad now to see how much or how little I am -hurt.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sorry you are hurt at all, sir,” said one. “Now then, -mates, clear out! The youngster looks faintish like.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They vanished speedily, and then as Arthur turned from -the window he wondered where his father was, and what he -would say to him. He was not in the room, but Hancourt -was there, holding by the collar a pale, unkempt youth, who -looked considerably crestfallen and frightened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“This is the fellow who threw a stone at you, Mr. Arthur. -His name is Jones. As there was no policeman near I arrested -him myself. I suppose now that there is little need of their -services the police will soon be coming, and I will keep this -fellow until I can give him into custody.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Bring him into my room, and turn the key upon us both.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tea had been set on the table, some cold chicken, pie, cake, -and toast.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Come and have some,” said Arthur to his prisoner. “You -look hungry, and it is tea-time.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The lad could not keep his eyes from wandering to that well-spread -table. He was hungry, certainly, for he had scarcely -tasted food that day; but he did not think he was so far gone -as to eat the food of the man whom he had struck with a -stone.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now then,” said Arthur, “why don’t you begin? You -know it will be some time before they give you anything to -eat at the police-station. You had better get a meal while -you have the chance.” As he spoke he was tying a handkerchief -around his head.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish that stone hadn’t hit you,” said the youth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! I am sure you do, because it was a cowardly -thing to throw it, and no man likes to be a coward. I will cut -you some chicken.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A well-filled plate was put before the young man, who really -could not resist it; and if he could have got rid of the lump -in his throat he would have greatly enjoyed it, for such bread, -such ham, and such chicken he had never tasted before.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will you have a glass of milk?” said Arthur, pouring it -out. “I am not going to give you into custody, though a -whole army of police should come to take you, because, as -you say, you did not mean to hurt me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you, kindly, sir, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight let the young man go on with his meal in -comfort, and then he began to question him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now, which workshop are you in?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I ain’t in no workshop at all, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>“What do you do then?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! I do odd jobs, and earn a sixpence here and there.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose you work for my father?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What say, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You work for Mr. Knight, don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then what in the world are you here for if the quarrel is -none of yours?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I seed the men coming, and as there was a row on I thought -I’d come too.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! there are plenty of lads about like you, I suppose? -I have heard of you. Such as you do most of the mischief -that is done, don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That’s about it, sir,” said the lad, grinning as if he thought -it was a very fine thing, though that expression changed to -one of shame when Arthur looked at him steadily.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is not much gain to be got out of such a life as that, -you know,” said Arthur, gravely. “It is not anything to be -proud of really, is it? I think it is a pity for a strong, -likely lad such as you are to take up with that sort of thing. -I wouldn’t if I were you. I call it a waste of good power, -because you are sharp enough to make your way in the world -if you will only set about it in the right fashion.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I ain’t got nobody to show me the way, nor I ain’t got -nobody to help me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, you have! You’ve got me, and I shall be very -glad to help you. I will find some work for you, and if you -don’t know how to do it, you shall be taught, and put in the -way of earning an honest living. Will you do your best?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The lad hesitated. He really felt that he was giving up a -great deal. The prospect which Arthur held out was not very -alluring. He and his companions considered that “earning -an honest living” was far too slow a thing for them. But -somewhere under his ragged waistcoat the lad had a heart, -and Arthur had found his way to it, as to so many more of -the same kind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I will, sir!”—the words were spoken quite solemnly—“I -will, indeed, sir, to make up for hurting of ye.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very good! Shake hands upon it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The steady tramp of the policemen’s feet was heard in the -grounds, and Arthur opened the door. Hancourt came -forward.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Where is the boy?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, the boy is all right! I am not going to give him into -custody; and, Hancourt, will you tell those fellows that -things are quiet, and send them about their business? If -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>they see me with my head bandaged, I suppose they will -think they ought to do something, and there is nothing for -them to do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur was getting anxious. He had no doubt that his -father would be angry with him; but he had done what he -felt sure was the only right thing to do, and he was not -without hope that he would bring his father to his way of -thinking. But he was desirous of getting it over as soon as -possible, and he rang the bell and inquired of the servant if she -knew where Mr. Knight was. She replied that she had heard -him go into the library and shut the door some time ago.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur went at once to the room and knocked. There was -no response. He opened the door, and found the room empty. -Then he went to his father’s bedroom, and found it locked. -“Father!” he called, but there was no answer. He listened -a moment, and then, with all the force of his strong young -frame, he burst open the door, and saw what he feared to -see—his father lying on the floor in a state of unconsciousness!</p> - -<p class='c011'>No time was lost, and two doctors were speedily on the -spot; but they were able to do very little for the stricken -man. They did not pronounce the case hopeless; they said it -was possible that there might be partial recovery, but even -that was improbable. They feared it was the beginning of -the end, and the end might be not far off.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight was profoundly grieved. The love for -his father—which had always been in his heart, though for -years it had been restrained—was warm and strong now, as -he sat by the bedside of the unconscious man, and he forgot -everything but that he was his father, and had always been -generous and kind to him. How he wished he had come -home before! A flood of compassion filled his heart as he -pictured the lonely man in the solitary house, melancholy -and bitter. How joyless his life must have been! He -seemed to have had little to comfort him but the one fact -of his commercial success; and there must have been many -times when that failed, and he was altogether comfortless. -So far as the world judged him he was an honourable man. -His life had been pure from many of the vices of the age, -and as Arthur thought over these things he wished with all -his heart that he might recover, if only to find comfort in his -son. But there seemed little hope of that. The doctors -looked more grave at each visit, and made no secret of their -conviction that the days of Mr. Knight were numbered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>So Arthur had a son’s sacred duty to perform in nursing -and watching his father, his heart full of sorrow that he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>could not do more for him. He was very tender and affectionate; -and half hoping that some of his words might pierce -through the cloud over him, he told him of his love, and -uttered slowly and impressively those good words of the -wonderful Book which tell of a Father’s love and a Saviour’s -power. Arthur could not feel afraid to trust the dying man -to the compassionate Christ. He did not doubt that the -Great Father, who had loved and cared for this neglectful -child of His for so many years, would pity him because he -had lived out his life to such unworthy issues, and found it -so disappointing, and had made so many mistakes, and -suffered for them, as was inevitable, and that He would have -mercy upon him, whether at the last he was able to ask for it -or not. Arthur’s hope was not in his father, but in his God; -and there was no fear, but much faith in his prayers.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Illness and death are great softeners of human hearts. It -was wonderful how tender the people who knew Mr. Knight -became towards him when they heard that he was dying. -All thought the best and none the worst of him then. And -when they looked through the eyes of love and pity, instead -of those of censure, they were not long in finding his good -traits. Even his workpeople altered their tones. “After -all,” they said, “he had been no worse a master than other -men. Of course, he had tried to get all he could out of them; -it was only natural—other people did the same. And it was -not altogether his fault, perhaps, that he had not used better -materials; people would have nasty cheap things nowadays, -and they could not expect them to be cheap and good too.” -So they talked, the people whose hearts are mostly kind at -the bottom, not because they quite believed what they said, -nor because they did not understand the meaning of justice, -truth, and honesty, but because in the presence of death even -the hardest becomes pitiful.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a great comfort to Arthur Knight to know that -many kind inquiries were being made and much sympathy -shown for his father, and these things helped him through -the time of waiting.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was not a very long time either.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He has not the strength to rally,” said the doctors. “He -may have a gleam of consciousness towards the last, but -it is scarcely likely, and the end may come at any time.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The end came suddenly. Mr. Knight opened his eyes and -fixed them upon his son. “Arthur,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, father; I am here. I love you. What can I do for -you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The eyes closed wearily again for some minutes. Then they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>were once more lifted to the sorrowful and sympathetic face -bending over him, and the dying man made an effort to speak. -“Arthur—undo it all—if you can—and pray for me. God be -merciful—to me—a sinner.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Then, after a few minutes of struggle, his eyes closed, and -his face grew calm.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI.<br> <span class='large'>ARTHUR KNIGHT’S INHERITANCE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The stateliness of death was upon the still face of his -father when the son gazed upon it for the last time. A -wonderful peace and beauty, which had never been seen -before, was there; and as Arthur looked through his tears -he saw that all the wrinkles which care had made were -smoothed away, and something of the youthfulness which -he remembered had returned. Did it mean anything or -nothing, he wondered, this calm which is always so comforting -to those who look upon their dead? Love made -him tender; but neither it nor sorrow could make him unmindful -of facts. His father had not really been an irreligious -man. He had known his Lord’s will; but in many -things he had not done it. He had gone home to God with -the cry of mercy on his lips and in his heart; and his son -believed in nothing so entirely as in the compassion of the -Father, as Christ represented Him. Arthur was not afraid; -but he wondered where the dead man was now, and how it -fared with him. His father had appeared to be entirely -engrossed with the world of money-making and business; -and what sort of preparation was that for the hereafter -which was before him? Had the habit of worldliness so -hardened his heart that it had kept the weary wanderer from -going back to the Father? Arthur was thankful that he had -heard the dying lips pray, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” -What issues might have hung upon the prayer for the man -who was passing away he could not tell, but there was infinite -comfort in it for the one who remained. Yet he -mourned for what might have been. He knew enough of -his own heart, with its weaknesses and sins, to understand -how a man’s prayer has at the last to take the deprecating -tones of humility and confession. In the silent hours of his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>life he had dared to pray with Moses, “Show me Thy glory,” -and he to whom that is an answered prayer must needs abhor -himself in dust and ashes. He understood how natural it was -that a good and great man should have asked that the only -epitaph upon his tomb should be—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,</div> - <div class='line in2'>On Thy kind arms I fall;</div> - <div class='line'>Be Thou my strength and righteousness,</div> - <div class='line in2'>My Saviour, and my all.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight had uttered these words for himself many a -time. But still he knew, and never failed to realise, that -there is another side to it all. He delighted to dwell on the -heroic side of Christ’s men. He believed that what St. Paul -said every disciple of Jesus might say, “I can do all things -through Christ, who strengtheneth me,” and that the inspiring -song of victory which the Apostle raised might be echoed by -every one whom faith made strong: that the Christian indeed -should live so grand a life that he also might declare at the -last, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, -I have kept the faith.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>As he thought of all the possibilities which his father had -had, of the life which he had lived and the life that he might -have lived, he was filled with sorrow—just such sorrow as -many of us are preparing for those who know and love us -best. But Arthur had a child’s faith as well as a man’s -loyalty; and he did what we all have to do—and what, indeed, -we are all glad to do—he left his dead with God. He knew -every saving clause in the history of the life that had ended—what -relentings and repentances and upward wistful -glances there had been, and how fierce was the struggle -between the better and the worse nature of the man! God -knew it all, and that was enough. “I know not where he is; -but, O my Father! he is in Thy hands, commended to Thy -love, and I am not afraid to leave him with Thee,” he said; -and with these words he was comforted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The great manufacturer of the East-end had left a fortune -considerably in excess of the amount which he had mentioned -to his heir; and the young man was too sensible to feel other -than glad when he had the facts of his inheritance placed -before him in figures which told their own story. With the -exception of a few legacies to old servants, among whom -Arthur was gratified to see Hancourt’s name, everything was -left to him absolutely. Houses and lands, shares and investments -were all at his disposal, together with the business by -which they had been won. But to the new master these were -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>chiefly valuable as means to an end. That which thrilled his -soul, and caused his eyes to flash and his heart to glow, was -the fact that nearly three thousand persons, men and women, -youths and girls, looked to him for work and wages. He -needed no one to remind him that whatever of other thoughts -and plans were in his mind, the duty that lay the nearest to -him was the care of these people—their bodies and their -souls. And he never thought of this without a thrill of joy. -“They are <span class='sc'>My People</span>, and, God helping me, I will do my -duty by them,” he said, and he meant much more than most -men when he said it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was with considerable emotion that Arthur Knight went -through the factories and saw his people at work. They were -all English, like himself, and he felt drawn towards them for -this reason, if for no other—for he was a true-hearted patriot. -Many of them, too, were nearer him because they were -sharers in his faith, served the same Master, and hoped for -the same heaven. He thought he could tell which these were -by the look upon their faces, by their demeanour, and even -their dress: for his religion was very simple and sincere; -and he had not a doubt but that godliness exalts a man in -every respect, and is profitable altogether, for the present as -well as the future life. These men and women, who were -members of Christian churches, and, therefore, must be living -their daily life on a higher level than the rest, having nobler -motives to guide them, would, he hoped, be very much his -friends and helpers in his future efforts to benefit the others. -Knight looked upon them all, indeed, as his friends; a great -change and deterioration would have to be wrought in him -before he could regard them as “<em>hands</em>” merely; to him they -were men and women, boys and girls; they were heads and -hearts, much more than hands, and were to be his companions -as well as his servants in the future. To him “the fatherhood -of God” and “the brotherhood of man” were not well-sounding -phrases only, but very significant realities; but he -knew that he would have to prove this to his people before -they would believe it. So he was busy with plans, which he -confided to his friend John Dallington, who came to spend a -few days with him. He would at once provide a reading-room -for the men, and he would get Miss Wentworth and -her band of helpers to look after the women. For the boys—great, -rough, uncouth fellows as some of them were—he -had a warm heart, a resourceful brain, and a patient, tolerant -temper; and the first thing he did was to turn the top floor of -his house, which had hitherto been unoccupied, into class rooms -of different kinds for their especial comfort and benefit.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>One morning he told Dallington that he was going to see a -former <i><span lang="fr">employé</span></i> of his father’s, and invited him to accompany -him. “I must try to master the broad facts and general -principles of the business myself,” he said, “and I have a -hard spell of work before me. But Hancourt can help me. -I should like your opinion of him. Come with me and see -him. It is a pleasant errand. My father has left him a -hundred pounds, and I will give him the cheque with the -news. And Hancourt has two children well worth knowing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>When they reached the house the children were as usual -very much in evidence. “How do you do, Mr. Arthur?” said -the girl, and when he lifted her she put her arms around his -neck and kissed him. “Mother said I was to kiss you as soon -as ever I saw you, because your father is dead.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Sissie!” said Geoff, reprovingly. “You should not -talk about Mr. Knight to Mr. Arthur, now, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, she should,” said Arthur. “Are you sorry for me, -Sissie?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I am very sorry. Were you a good boy to your -father, Mr. Arthur?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not always, Sissie; and I am sorry for it now. You will -always be good to your father and mother, won’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t know. Mother says I’m very bad. Did you ever -have a mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; but that was a long, long time ago. She died when -I was such a little boy that I cannot even remember her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But what will you do now, when you have not either -a father or a mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t know, Sissie. I shall be very lonely. I think you -must come and see me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’m much obliged to you. Thanks very much.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>This was said in such a droll way that Dallington laughed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You shouldn’t laugh; it’s rude,” said the child. But her -brother rebuked her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is you who are rude, Sissie; isn’t she, mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid she is, Geoff.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is very entertaining,” said Dallington. “Sissie, will -you not be gracious, and give me a kiss, too?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you got any little girls at home?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; I am sorry to say I have not. Will you come home -with me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; I could not leave Geoff. He would be always in -trouble without me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then come to me for a little time now; for if you do not -I shall be jealous.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is ‘jealous’?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>“I am afraid you know the thing if you do not know the -word,” said Mrs. Hancourt.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is it to be naughty, mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, Sissie; and that is what you have been to-day. And -you must go to bed early. Indeed, you had better say ‘Good-night,’ -and go now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But let me say my prayers down here, mother, because I -always do, you know.” And without more ado the child -knelt down, and, folding her hands together, she said: “Oh, -God, please make Sissie a good girl!” and demurely added, -“And if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Sounds that were not devotional were heard from the other -parts of the room, and Mrs. Hancourt lifted the little one in -her arms. “I think, darling,” she said, “you had better -finish your prayers upstairs.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>When Mrs. Hancourt and the children had left, Arthur -told his news. “I have the pleasure to inform you, Mr. -Hancourt, that my father proved the respect which he had -for you by leaving you a small legacy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A legacy, sir?” exclaimed the man, in amazement. “A -legacy for me? Left me by Mr. Knight? Do let me call my -wife. Kate, come here! This is news, indeed. Mr. Knight -really had not any ill-feeling toward me, after all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! I am very glad,” said Mrs. Hancourt. “Mr. Arthur, -my husband, ever since Mr. Knight’s illness, has been wondering -if he had not been harsh and wrong.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, Kate, you would never guess the rest. Mr. Knight -has left us a legacy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is nothing to make a fuss about,” said Knight. “It is -only a hundred pounds. Here is a cheque for the amount.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A hundred pounds?” It was all that Hancourt could -say. He changed colour, and struggled for composure.</p> - -<p class='c011'>His wife had tears in her eyes. “You must please excuse -him,” she said to Arthur. “You do not know, you cannot guess, -what this money is to us, nor what we have gone through -lately.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Knight’s heart beat quickly. He had not felt so glad -before as he did now that he was rich. How possible it -would be for him to increase the happiness of other people if -only he used his inheritance wisely!</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Hancourt,” he said, “you were for a long time my -father’s right-hand man. Will you be mine? My father’s -most solemn legacy to me was his command to undo anything -which is wrong in the business. Justice shall be -done, as far as it is possible; but wisdom is a part of righteousness, -and I need to be much wiser than I am to do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>perfectly the part that is allotted to me. It is my firm conviction -that it is as possible to-day as ever to carry on a -business upon Christian principles, and I am going to try. -Will you help me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“With all my heart, sir,” said Hancourt, fervently. “And -I will try to deserve your confidence.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The first thing I wish you to do is to furnish me with all -the particulars of my constituency of labour. I want to know -my people. Make me out a list of their names, and write -beside each the sex, age, residence, religious denomination, -what work he does, what wages he gets, and anything and -everything there is to say about him. I hope in time to make -the personal acquaintance of every individual who works for -me. First, I must know the boys; and before another week is -gone I shall get them together in some suitable place, that -we may have a talk, and understand each other. I hope you -agree with me, Mr. Hancourt, that the hope of the future -is in the young. If we can secure them on the right side -everything is gained.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Hancourt was delighted. He had found a master after his -own heart. Hope had come back to him, and there was great -gladness in the little home in which he lived.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish, Dallington, you could give me a year,” said -Knight, as they drove back together. “It is not in my -inheritance of money, but in my inheritance of men that I -rejoice. These claim my first attention. I mean to make my -<i><span lang="fr">employés</span></i> my friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope you are not attempting the impossible. Many -masters before you have tried, and failed,” replied Dallington. -“Human nature is a very difficult thing to manage. Still, I -wish you success. You will do it if it can be done, because -you recognise the rights of brotherhood. But I am sorry -that before you have everywhere delivered that speech which -is in your mind you have all these new duties thrust upon -you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not sorry. I have the chance to test my theories -upon my own people; could anything be better? And, besides, -it is the busy people who will do this work that has to -be done. I am not going to delay my part, John. You and I -and many others will proclaim the fact that the Church must -not be afraid to take the greatness which the Master is -thrusting upon her, and that for His sake, and her own sake, -and the world’s sake, she must be an united and not a split-up -Church.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But people—even good people—love to fight.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well; and there is still the world, the flesh, and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>devil for them to attack. That they should waste their -strength in fighting one another after all these centuries of -Christian teaching seems to me wonderful. But I am sure -the Christian world is ready for a change. Already there are -dozens, soon there will be thousands, of preachers proclaiming -a truce, while the Church puts right the wrongs of the poor -and degraded in England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Knight found that his hands were full when he went -to look at the properties that had come into his possession. -Among the rest was an immense number of courts and alleys -near the places of business; and the heart of the young -owner of them grew very sad as he examined them. They -were most of them miserably old and dirty, and the women -and children whom he saw lounging about the doorways -looked sickly and filthy, too. He remembered what he had -once read—that men and animals were greatly influenced by -the character of the places in which they ate and slept; and -he ceased to wonder that some of the men of whom he had -heard were lazy, drunken, and blasphemous. The places -were not homes—they did not deserve the name. And to -think that his brother-men had to pass their hours of leisure -there or in a public-house!</p> - -<p class='c011'>He continued his researches, however, for some hours, after -which he felt utterly miserable and ashamed that such places -should form part of his inheritance.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was turning to go home when a lady accosted him. -“Excuse me,” she said, “people are telling me that you are -the owner of these houses. Will you be good enough to come -and look at one of them?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She spoke in a low voice, which thrilled with indignation, -and her eyes were blazing with a passion of anger.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have only been the owner for a few days,” said Arthur. -“I am not proud of them, I assure you, but very much -ashamed of them. I will do what I can as speedily as I can; -they cannot be changed by a miracle. I wish they could.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The girl did not reply; and Arthur followed her into the -most wretched house that he had ever seen, and into a room -where there was a hole in the roof and another in the floor, -and in the corner of which lay a woman suffering horribly -from rheumatic fever, while two wretched, half-clothed -children sat by her side, munching a piece of bread.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“This woman, a deserted wife,” said the young lady, “sews -packing-bags for the factory near. By working fourteen -hours a day she can earn eight shillings a week; and the man -who pays the wages has five shillings back for rent. It is -iniquitous, all of it! It is a shame to pay so little for so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>much work; and it is even worse robbery to take more than -a nominal rent for such a disgraceful place. Robbery! It -is murder! And the man who has committed it would -have to take his trial for it if there were any justice in -England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur looked into the flushed face lifted so accusingly to -his own with mixed feelings. He felt almost like a schoolboy -being scolded, or like the prisoner she had spoken of arraigned -before a judge who would have very little mercy; and he was -almost amused at her vehemence, too.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really—yes,” he stammered. “It is, as you say, iniquitous, -all of it. Believe me, so far as I am responsible, it -shall be changed. In the meantime, let me do what I can for -this woman. Cannot she be removed to the hospital? Allow -me——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He took some money from his purse and held it towards -her, but she refused it. “I have taken this case in hand,” -she said. “You will find plenty of others quite near if you -are really in earnest; but what all these people want is not -charity, but justice.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is good of you to visit and help them,” began Knight; -but the young lady smiled a peculiar smile that made him -feel uncomfortable.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Good?” she said. “If any of us were good, we would -surely be able to prevent such things as these.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Knight much wished to know something of the young lecturer -who had so taken him to task; but she dismissed him -with a stately bow, and there was nothing for him but to -leave, more resolute than ever to at once begin what really -appeared a hopeless task. But early the next morning he -had an inspiration.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was possible for him, with the money which he had and -could make, to take his business and his people out of this -terrible city altogether, and he would do it! What a chance he -had! He could plan a model town; and there set his people -to work under far different conditions. He felt that the -thought was a call from God, and he had some minutes of -such joyous thankfulness as come to few men in a lifetime. -Here was a bit of work that suited him exactly; and with -all the energy he had, he at once set about making the -thought an accomplished fact. He had an inheritance, -indeed, of duty and of joy.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII.<br> <span class='large'>MARY WYTHBURN’S WEDDING.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>John Dallington had his own troubles to bear, -although they were of a different character from those -of Arthur Knight. For a few weeks he rejoiced greatly in -his heritage, while the land of his fathers grew dearer to him -day by day; and then he learnt that only a part of it was -really his own, and that some of it had been mortgaged. -That there could be a debt upon his inheritance was a -possibility that had never once occurred to him; and the -fact was an exceedingly bitter one—indeed, he had not -known how to bear it. Years afterward he remembered the -lawyer’s office in which the unwelcome news was told him so -distinctly that he knew the pattern of the paper on the wall -and the number of panes in the window.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will redeem it,” he said; “I could not bear to let even a -bit of the land go. It will take me years to do it, no doubt, -but if I live it shall be accomplished.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A very worthy ambition,” replied the solicitor, who was -sorry for the young man, and sympathised with him. “It is -a good thing to have an object in life—keeps a man out -of mischief, you know, and helps him to put forth his best -powers. I assure you, Mr. Dallington, that there is nothing -like trouble of this sort for making a man of you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But it was with a sore heart and rueful countenance that -Dallington betook himself to his farm. He had been so sure -that it was his, to do as he liked with, and his fancy had -painted glowing pictures of what he would do for his mother, -and his cottage tenants afterwards. And now he must -economise, and deny himself the pleasure of making improvements, -and must be careful of his own personal expenses. -The thought made him sigh; not that he had -extravagant habits, but because he had already hoped to -persuade the lady of his heart to begin with him the new life -which was before him. That was out of the question now, -and he must not seek her, nor even think of her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>So he said to himself as he was moodily making his way -home, and he had no sooner said it than his heart gave a leap -of joy, for, there before him, in the little woodland path, -coming towards him with a flush upon her beautiful face, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>and her eyes shining like stars, was Margaret Miller. She -was used to these woods and loved them; but she would not -have been there that day had she expected to meet him there. -She steadied herself to speak to him with quiet friendliness, -but he took both her hands, and gazed in her face, -with his heart in his eyes, and could only say, “Margaret, -Margaret!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So they stood for a few moments, and a year of happiness -was in them; and then John remembered! If it had happened -yesterday he would have poured forth his love in a -torrent of words, and asked her at once to be his wife; but -now he must not, for stern duty forbade. As for Margaret, -she had not forgotten; and though, for an instant, her heart -sank with dismay lest he had read the truth, she soon recovered -herself, and helped him to do the same. But all the -pain went from him, and when he turned and walked back -with her, and the sweet summer sun kissed them both, while -the birds sang as if in sympathy with their joy, he felt -strong enough and brave enough to do everything. And -he took her at once into his confidence. Every one else did -the same; it was wonderful how many secrets of sorrow had -been given to Margaret to keep, young as she was; but it -was no wonder that Dallington felt the comfort and strength -of her sympathy. It was not news to Margaret that John -Dallington was not a rich man, for in a little place like -Darentdale few things are altogether hidden, and she could -not feel as sorry for his pain as she was glad to learn in what -the chief pain consisted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I was hoping,” he said, “that there might not be a really -poor person on my estate. I meant every man to have a -chance—and every woman, too. The cottages need rebuilding -badly, and the labourers ought to have some share -in the land; but what am I to do now?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It would not make much difference to your income,” said -Margaret, gently, “if you gave them half of one of your -meadows as allotments or gardens; and that would probably -furnish each of your labourers with a strip of ground. Even -if they had it rent free you would not lose very much; but if -you let them have it for the value of the grass it would not -cost them much either. It is too bad of those farmers who -charge the men higher rents for small pieces than they would -get for the larger ones.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington saw his way at once. “To be sure, I can -do that,” he said. “I intended to put a garden to each cottage; -but it does not matter where it is, and I have a field -that will do for that purpose exactly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>“And you have a stone quarry. Why not allow your men -to use your stone, and enlarge or rebuild their own cottages? -Labour is even more costly than materials, and you might -save that if you could induce the men to do the work themselves. -But I expect you would have to grant them leases, -unless they trust you more than they do most masters, so -that they could have no fear or possibility of being turned -out of the places they had renovated.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John thought it was beautiful of her to be so much interested; -and was she not as sensible as she was good? Then -they talked together of old times, and every care vanished -from them both.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall see you to-morrow,” he said, as they parted. “I -am going to Miss Wythburn’s wedding.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next day dawned auspiciously in Scourby, a manufacturing -town at the head of Darentdale, where the wedding -was to take place.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Wythburn’s face was a little tearful on that morning, -for Mary was her only child, and the mother’s heart was full -of solicitude. But with the self-repression characteristic of -mothers she was prepared to put her own feelings on one -side, and meet her friends with smiles as bright as she could -make them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The father of the bride did not pretend to smile at all, and -made no secret of his sentiments in regard to weddings. He -had been in a chronic state of grumblement since the day -was fixed. “They say that a man’s house is his castle; mine -is much more like a fancy fair,” he said. “People have -been coming in at all my doors as if they had a right; -the only person who has seemed to have no right to be upon -the premises is myself. I shall be glad when the fuss is -over.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>His wife was not disconcerted by this pretence at ill-temper, -for she knew how much—or, rather, how little—it -meant; and was assured that her husband would be genial -enough when the time arrived for his after-breakfast speech. -For she knew that Mr. Wythburn would not on any account -have had things other than they were, since he had long -wished to see his daughter married to his oldest neighbour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Some of Mary’s friends thought it a pity. The two were so -entirely different that it was doubtful if they had any tastes -or feelings in common. Alfred Greenholme was inactive, -self-indulgent, unambitious. Everything was too great an -exertion for him. He never wanted even to play at tennis, -nor to dance at an evening party. “There was no harm in -him,” people said. “He was a good-natured sort of fellow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>enough;” but he positively seemed to care for nothing but -lounging about and smoking cigars. But Mary Wythburn -was full of intense, vivid life. She had an enormous -capacity for work, and she used this capacity to the utmost. -Quiet, and even timid, in manner, she had such perfect -control over herself that few guessed how keen was her -desire to know and to do. She was an exceedingly clever -girl, and had availed herself to the utmost of all the educational -advantages which the modern spirit of fairness has -granted to women, and at school, college, and university she -had gained distinctions and carried off prizes. Her father -and mother had not hindered her; but she knew that though -they could not help feeling a little proud of her successes, -they did not altogether approve of her. They had her portrait -taken in the college cap and gown which became her so -well; and they said that, since the letters which she had the -right to put after her name meant something, she ought to use -them; but they both considered it a little unwomanly to be -too clever, and wished that she would settle down and be -married.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In another respect they scarcely understood their daughter. -Her nature was intensely sensitive and sympathetic. She -knew what it was to weep over sorrows that were none of -hers, and to be punished for sins which she had not committed. -Pain, want, wickedness, and woe were spectres that -haunted the girl, and would not let her forget them. Moreover, -Mary was grievously beset by doubt, which she endured -in loneliness because the least expression of it so shocked -those whom she loved that she had not the courage to say all -that was in her mind. She had once declared, with flushed -face and dilated eyes, on returning from visiting a woman -who was dying of cancer, that she did not, could not, would -not believe that the poor creatures who were so badly off in -this world would be also punished in the next, even for their -sins. Her father and mother, secure and comfortable in -their church-going consummateness, believing all that they -ought to believe, and never troubling themselves further, -asked her sternly if she read her Bible now. Truth to tell, -she read it very little. She tried to reconcile that which she -knew was in it with that which she saw in the world, and -finding the two apparently irreconcilable she yielded to -unbelief; and because she could not herself believe, began to -doubt the honesty of those who did. Poor Mary had lost her -child’s faith in the Fatherhood of God, and had failed to -apprehend the meaning of the sacrifice of His Son.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She sorely needed some one to help her. She was not in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>the least brave, though she was clever, and had simply -drifted into an engagement with Mr. Greenholme.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But when the wedding was drawing near she filled her -mother with consternation.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother,” she said, “I am really not sure that I can -marry Alfred after all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, my dear child! how you frighten me! What do you -mean?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t believe I care for him as people generally do care -when they are going to be married.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is there any one else for whom you care, Mary?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no, mother! There is not any one whom I like -better than Alfred; and he is very kind to me; but I do not -want to be married at all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That will come right, my dear. I am sure you would -not like to be an old maid; no woman does. Oh, yes, you -may think now you would not mind, because you are young; -but you would be very miserable afterward, and as Alfred’s -wife you will have every comfort. You must not think of -anything now but your promise.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So the preparations went on, and every one was pleased -with Mary.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was to be a quiet wedding. The three bridesmaids—Mary’s -girl-friends, the Misses Copeland, Miller, and Whitwell—had -arrived on the previous evening, since they all -lived some distance from Scourby. Miss Copeland was a tall -and graceful young lady who, for some reason or other, -appeared ill-tempered and irritable; Miss Miller was quiet -and happy; and Miss Whitwell as merry as a cricket.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton, a friend of the family, called early, and -asked after the health of the bride. “I am now going to see -her,” said Mrs. Wythburn; and she went away wearing the -bright look of love which makes mothers’ faces so beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But in a few minutes she came back, looking quite changed. -Her face had lost its colour, and she trembled so that she -could scarcely walk. She seemed to have become suddenly -blind, for although the drawing-room door stood open she -appeared to be feeling for the handle.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The only person who observed her was Margaret Miller, -who saw at a glance that either Mrs. Wythburn had been -taken suddenly ill, or something dreadful had happened. -Swiftly and silently Margaret went to her side, and, closing -the door behind them, led the shaking women into the dining-room.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is the matter, Mrs. Wythburn? I hope nothing is -wrong. Where is Mary?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>Mrs. Wythburn tried to speak, but at first no words could -be uttered. Margaret was as tender as a daughter. “Don’t -be frightened, my dear, whatever it is,” she said. “There is -a little mistake, somehow, perhaps. Or a little sudden faintness, -which will pass off presently.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>After a time Mrs. Wythburn managed to gasp out a few -words. “Margaret, there is great trouble. I do not know -what it is. Fetch my husband.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They had been married many years, but they were a very -kindly Darby and Joan, and the wife felt as if she could not -break to her husband the news that she had to tell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why, Martha, what is the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, John, God help us, for something terrible has -happened!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t give way, dearie; we have borne some troubles -together, and we will meet this. Tell me what it is. Is it -anything about Mary?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, it is. Mary—Mary is gone!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Gone where?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, that is it! Mary has not slept in her room, and she -is not in the house. No one has seen her this morning, and -she is not to be found anywhere. I have questioned the -servants; I have searched every room.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Here the poor woman’s feeling quite overcame her, and Mr. -Wythburn placed her on the couch and went straight to his -daughter’s apartment.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was true. The dainty little room was in perfect order, -save for the wedding finery that overflowed the wardrobe and -occupied some of the chairs. The bed was not disturbed, and -the gas was burning as it was last night. There was not a -scrap of paper anywhere to explain the strange absence of the -bride; only one thing was certain—that she was gone! -Vague fears took possession of the father’s mind: there must -have been foul play, for surely no girl in her senses would -run away from her own wedding! But what was to be done? -Of course there could be no marriage without a bride, and -the bridegroom must be warned. Mr. Wythburn tried to -control himself, but his face was ghastly and his hands -were shaking. His thoughts turned to Margaret Miller: he -knew that she would keep her senses and prove reliable, and -at that moment she appeared.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is it, Mr. Wythburn? Mary is not here. Ah! do -not be unnecessarily alarmed; Mary will explain it. Nothing -has happened to her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, Margaret, where can my child be, and what is to be -done? Alfred Greenholme——”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>“Yes; I will ask Dr. Stapleton to fetch him, and to see -that the church remains closed. I will manage it. We will -not have more talk than we can help. And, Mr. Wythburn, -do not give way to grief. Be sure that it will all come right -in the end. Oh, be sure that Mary is to be trusted! She -will, perhaps, be here presently, and laugh at all our fears.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret went at once to the room where Dr. Stapleton -still waited. He was standing and looking eagerly toward -the door when it was opened. He seemed to have a prevision -of some catastrophe.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is it?” he said. “Something wrong with Mary, -isn’t it? Tell me what it is. Is she ill?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret noticed that he looked white, as if with fear, and -that he used her Christian name when speaking of Miss -Wythburn.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I think there is no doubt that she is ill. I had -better tell you all the truth, Dr. Stapleton, for we are both -Mary’s friends and the friends of the family. Mary, for -some reason, left her home last night. Her room was not -disturbed, and no one has seen her this morning, or has the -slightest idea where she can be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton said nothing. He caught Margaret’s hands -and held them forcibly, looking in her face with staring eyes.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dr. Stapleton, please, I want you to help us. Some one -must go to Mr. Greenholme’s house. Will you go and ask -Alfred to come here at once? And will you tell the sexton -not to open the church until he hears from us? But it will -be better to say nothing of what has happened.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Still Stapleton did not speak or move.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think Mary will be here directly, do not you? I cannot -imagine her doing anything unusual. Please go directly, and -tell Mr. Greenholme.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret gave him a little push and put his hat in his -hand and opened the door. Even then he seemed scarcely to -understand, but he passed out mechanically, and Margaret -saw that he went in the direction of Mr. Greenholme’s -house.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She herself turned to meet the dismayed faces of the other -two bridesmaids.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, what is it?” asked Miss Whitwell. “Mr. -Wythburn has just rushed through the room saying that he -was going to search the garden for Mary. Is not Mary in the -house?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; she must have left the house last night, for she has -not slept in her bed. Hilda, your room was next Mary’s; did -you hear her in the night?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>“No. But Mary is a little peculiar. Perhaps she went -for a walk, and sprained her ankle or something. We had -better go through the grounds. I should not be surprised if -she went over the hill to Rayford. It was a magnificent -night, and the moon made it almost like day; but if she -attempted to go across the rocks she might well meet with an -accident.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, but she never would! What is the use of saying -such things?” exclaimed Miss Whitwell, and immediately -added, “Perhaps she is somewhere near, and we shall find -her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Margaret felt sure that she would not be found, and, -instead of joining the others, she went to Mrs. Wythburn, -who was still going into one room after another, and peering -into all sorts of unlikely places, searching for her missing -daughter and sobbing as if her heart would break.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Presently in came Alfred Greenholme and his father, the -former feeling more disturbed than he had ever felt in his life -before.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What in the world is the matter?” he said. “Stapleton -seems to have taken leave of his senses. He was as incoherent -as if he had been drinking; but I understand him -to say that Mary is missing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; he said what is true. Mary cannot be found.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then there must have been foul play. Where were her -jewels kept? Have they been stolen?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No,” replied Margaret; “nothing seems to have been -touched. All her wedding presents are exactly as they were, -and her jewels are in the drawer in which they were always -kept.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What am I to do?” asked Alfred. “Surely Mary will be -here presently. She will not get late for the wedding? She -fixed the time herself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am so sorry for you,” said Hilda Copeland. “Mary -must have been out of her senses.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Did she seem so? Was she ill last night?” demanded -Greenholme.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She did not say so. She was very quiet, though.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Quiet!” repeated Alfred, forgetting to be courteous. -“She was never other than quiet. But such conduct is perfectly -inexplicable. Are you sure Mary is not in the house, -Miss Miller?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Quite sure. We have looked everywhere.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Where is Stapleton? He might go and prevent the -carriages from coming. We do not want a row of them -standing in front of the house for an hour.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>“The servants will attend to that. There will be no -wedding to-day,” said Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do not say so. Mary may yet be in time. Is there no -letter, or something to explain where she is or what she has -done?” demanded the disappointed bridegroom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; we can find nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then she will be forthcoming presently.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But she was not; the searchers returned and looked at -each other in dismay.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The hours wore on. Mr. Greenholme thought the police -should be communicated with, but Mr. Wythburn was not -willing.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot have detectives trying to track my daughter,” he -said. “Mary is not a child unable to take care of herself. -We shall have a telegram presently, or a letter from her in -the morning.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Alfred Greenholme said very little. But when Mrs. Wythburn -came tremblingly towards him, and kissed him, he said, -“Do not be more anxious than you can help. We both know -Mary. Nothing dreadful can have happened. We must -wait. And let us keep our own counsel as much as we can, -and not set the whole town gossiping.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But many friends of the family called during the day, and -of course the news spread rapidly. The vicar came, and his -presence proved a great comfort, for he said what commended -itself to all. “Be sure that Mary is in God’s keeping. No -harm has come to her. For some reason or other Mary has -absented herself rather than be married. It is a very strange -thing; but we must not be too swift to blame her. She has -really lived a very independent life, you know, and she has -simply acted for herself now. Do you not think that is the -explanation, Miss Miller?” And Margaret had little doubt -that it was.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Greenholmes remained all day, for the trouble was one -to be shared between them. Alfred behaved very well; but -he seemed to suffer more annoyance than grief, and that is -decidedly the more easy to bear.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And late in the afternoon a telegram came for Mr. Greenholme. -It contained only these words: “Do not be anxious. -All is well. Mary.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It wrought instantly a change in the feelings of the household; -for anger and vexation took the place of grief and -anxiety. “It is too bad of Mary,” everybody said; and hot -words of blame were spoken freely. Nobody took her part -very courageously. Even Margaret admitted that her friend -had been, at the very least, guilty of great cowardice, while -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>Miss Copeland abused her in unmeasured terms; and only -Tom Whitwell pleaded that they would give her time to explain -before they judged and condemned her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It had been arranged that Mr. Dallington should drive his -cousin home. He had come, as he thought, to the wedding, -and seeing that there was to be none, he thought they should -leave early. Dr. Stapleton was to have taken Miss Miller to -Darentdale, but as he had not returned she accepted Dallington’s -invitation, and accompanied him and Miss Whitwell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I told you that I believed the wedding would not take -place, did I not, John?” asked the latter, as soon as they -had started.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, you did, Tom; but I consider that your friend has -disgraced her womanhood in acting as she has done. If I were -Greenholme I would never forgive her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am sure she will never ask him,” said Tom. “But she -has been a great coward through it all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She ought never to have allowed herself to be engaged to -him,” said Margaret; “but having done so she ought to have -gone through with it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And been miserable for ever after,” added Tom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then the clouds cleared away; for why should three -healthy happy young people be sad because one had been -stupid?</p> - -<p class='c011'>Late in the evening Dr. Stapleton called at Mr. Wythburn’s -to make inquiries. He only stayed a few minutes; and when -he left the vicar went with him. They parted after ten -minutes’ walk, and as they did so Mr. Sherborne looked -straight into the doctor’s eyes, and suddenly asked him a -question. “Stapleton, do you know where Miss Wythburn -is?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The doctor started violently, and the colour first came into -his face, and then left him pale.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I? No, indeed!” he exclaimed. “I wish to God I did!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If you know anything at all you ought to tell her -father.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What can I know?” stammered Stapleton.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the vicar lifted his hat and walked away without -another word.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII.<br> <span class='large'>SOME SIGNS OF THE TIMES.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Mary Wythburn’s disappearance was one of the -signs of the times. And, excepting to the parties -most nearly concerned, it was scarcely a nine days’ -wonder. To a great extent even their minds were speedily -set at rest, for a few days after the wedding was to have -taken place a letter reached her friend, Margaret Miller, -which explained in part the occurrence, though unquestionably -the real reason was that Mary’s heart was playing -truant.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dear Margaret,” it said, “I am so frightened at what I -have done that I do not know how to bear it; but you know I -am such a coward that I could not bravely face it all out as I -ought to have done. I simply dare not marry Alfred Greenholme, -and I dare not say so. Do go to my mother and -comfort her, and tell her that I am safe and well; but I cannot -let any one know where I am, for, of course, if I did I -should be fetched home; and I would rather die than go. -Margaret, I am doing what I have always known I ought to -do. I am at work on my own plans in this terrible London, -and, God helping me, I will make a few of my own sex better -and happier before I die. It makes me sick to see how -wretched and wicked they are. Please be my friend, and do -not let my dear father and mother, whom I love with all my -heart, be more miserable than they need be. Of course, I -know they are angry with me, and I deserve that they should -be; it is very hard for them that they could not have a -daughter like other people’s girls. I can bear their anger, -but they must not be anxious or sorrowful about me. I have -my cheque-book, and I can take care of myself for a little -while; but, oh, Madge! what would I not give to put my head -on your shoulder and have a good cry, and hear you scold -me (as I know you would). I am very thankful to sign -myself, still ever yours,</p> - -<div class='c013'><span class='sc'>Mary Wythburn</span>.”</div> - -<p class='c011'>In point of fact Mary Wythburn had not done an unheard-of -thing in preferring to work among the poor rather than be -married. Many girls had made the same choice; and many -men too. The world of the great East of London was the -scene of more heroic labours for the wretched than had ever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>been known before. Methodism had its centre there, from -which radiated all sorts of beneficent lights that flashed -across the darkness. The Congregationalists had a home -where good women who had given up their wealth for Christ’s -sake, and that of humanity, lived together in a little community, -and laboured in every conceivable way among the -poor. The Baptists had long led the Forward Movement, which -was another name for the “applied Christianity” in which -the Church had now come to believe. The Episcopal Church -had brought wealth, culture, and influence to bear upon the -problem of the outcasts. University men had chosen this -work instead of Parliamentary honours, or the accumulation -of money. And many a young lady had quietly disappeared -from society, and, receiving a pound or two a week from -her father for her personal needs, had gone to dwell among -the poor, as poor, in order to live a consecrated life of -Christian helpfulness. Mary Wythburn had but added one -to the already swelling multitude who had yielded to the -fascination of the modern ministry of love and service. -The old things repeated themselves—with a difference. The -piety which had moved men and women to withdraw from -the world and give themselves entirely to a religious life -was equally strong and impassioned in many of the young -men and women who were sworn disciples of Jesus now; -but they served Him by withdrawing from luxuries only, and -not from men. They took no vows upon them excepting the -usual ones which characterise the entrance into the Church, -but they put a different meaning into them. They heard a -call summoning them into the thick of the crowd, there to -do the works of their Master—to feed the five thousand, -to heal the sick, to open the eyes of the blind, to deliver -the captives; aye, to take the little children into their arms -and bless them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>For thoughtful people were most of all concerned about -the young. The State had given them enough schooling to -render them precocious, for it was compulsory and free; but -it had not educated them, for the conscience and the character -were very much untouched by the schools, since the -children left far too early to have had a chance to gain -anything more than the mere rudiments of elementary -training. The years at which they might begin to labour -were put back a little, but now there were thousands, where -fifty years before there had been dozens, earning their own -livelihood in factories and works of various kinds. This -massing of young people together, with little control over -their tongues or conduct, was having a terrible effect upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>the men and women of the next generation. Their conversation -was frequently of the most filthy kind, and juvenile -immorality was frightfully on the increase.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight had a shock as, sitting in his office one day -with the windows open, he overheard some of the girls in his -employ talking together, and he lost no time in providing a -place where Miss Wentworth and her helpers might begin a -beneficial work among these young people, many of whom, -though at present between fourteen and sixteen, would soon -be the mothers of children, and who for that, if no other -reason, needed greatly the womanly ministrations of Christian -love.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But it happened that at the first of the girls’ meetings in -the temporary evening homes prepared for their reception -Miss Wentworth could not be present, and, indeed, for several -weeks the young ladies who were to help her had about fifty -factory girls to themselves. Neither of them would ever forget -their experience. Provision had been made for the girls to -wash at the rooms, and take tea there, so that they might be -as long as possible under the influence of their friends, who -earnestly desired to render them real service, but who were -at their wit’s end to know how to accomplish it. The girls -brought curling-tongs, and spent most of their time in -“frizzing” their “fringes.” They were urged to join a -savings’ club, but said they were already in a “feather club,” -to which they paid, out of their earnings of seven or eight -shillings, a shilling a week for “fashion and finery,” and they -could not afford to save anything else. For some time it -seemed impossible to reduce them to any sort of order. They -at once gave nicknames to the ladies; and began by mimicking -their manner of speaking. One of the girls went to a -timid, nervous young lady, and, looking her full in the face, -said, “Blush! blush!” an order which was, of course, instantly -obeyed, to the great glee of those who stood around, and who -laughed uproariously. One impudent-looking girl had a -dreadful black eye, and in reply to a lady who kindly inquired -if she had met with an accident, said, “Mother did that. She -throwed a tater at me, and it hit my eye. My mother can’t -do nothing with me, and it makes her mad.” The words -were immediately sung in a sort of chorus: “<em>My</em> mother -can’t do nothing with <em>me</em>, and it makes her mad.” A lady -offered to give a little talk on the body, having made physiology -her favourite study; the girls sat and giggled the whole -time, at the end of which they dubbed their teacher, “Bones.” -The young ladies were very much troubled by the boys outside, -who waited about for the girls, and amused themselves -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>by knocking at the doors and climbing up to the windows, -and who became at last so troublesome that a policeman was -asked to take up his station near and keep order. The next -day many of the girls brought the policeman offerings of -flowers, and nearly all surrounded him, and began talking -and joking with him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is of no use to try. We shall never do them any good. -We must give it up and leave them to their fate.” But this -was not what those educated, Christ-obeying girls said. Some -whom they knew had gone away to work among the dwarfs -of the Congo, the fever-stricken men and women of the -jungle, and the lepers of Siberia; should these be less heroic -than they? They kept steadily on, and, after a time, a few -of the girls for whose salvation they agonised grew more -quiet than the rest, and these would distribute themselves -among the others and try to keep order during the prayer-time; -and, at last, now and then the young hearts of these -home missionaries were thrilled with such whispers as this: -“I do want to be better, please tell me how?” So they -worked faithfully.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But many signs of the times were less hopeful than this. -It was known in England, and especially in London, that few -financial ventures were so absolutely safe as those connected -with journalism, provided the popular taste was met. Those -who won the greatest popularity were those who wrote -down to the masses, and went even a little lower than they. -The sale of such journals was largely helped by religious -people, not that they approved the morality of the journals, -but because they were amusing, the gossip being of a spicy -nature, and the tales sensational and enthralling. For -several years almost all papers had become increasingly -personal in their character, and editors were willing to pay -large sums for little bits of news touching persons who were -in the least distinguished for position, possession, or power. -The society journals had always a large sale, especially those -that were the most unscrupulous in hunting for skeletons in -cupboards, and exhibiting them to the public at the rate of a -penny a week.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But lately there had been commenced a new journal, which -was giving intense pain, and covering with shame a large -section of the British people. Its registered title was <cite>Saints’ -Society</cite>, and the motto under the title, chosen in confessed -irony, was, “See how these Christians love one another.” It -existed for the express purpose of blackening the character -and showing up the weaknesses of all sections of the Church, -and was full of personalities of the vilest kinds. It would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>have done less harm if it had been boycotted by respectable -or even Christian people, but too many women and some men -bought the paper, and gloated over it in semi-secret circles, -because of what it told of individuals whom they knew. The -adults who did this could not perhaps be greatly harmed by -it, since, already, the process of deterioration must have gone -so far with their own characters that a little more made -almost no perceptible difference; but it was the young people -in their families who suffered most, and who, by hundreds -throughout the land, were declaring gleefully or angrily, -according to their temperament, that religion was a sham -and a fraud, which they declined altogether to uphold by any -adhesion of theirs.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the paper was chiefly supported by those who openly -hated anything bearing the Christian name. Certain individuals -in some sections of the Church had roused considerable -antagonism by harassing, with piecemeal legislation, -the supporters of existing evils. They had not the -energy and perseverance, perhaps they had not the power, to -destroy the wrongs of which they complained—that would -require a revolution—but they had made it disagreeable for a -good many people who coined money by, and were otherwise -interested in, the perpetuation of these wrongs, and this had -created a great amount of angry feeling. <cite>The Saints’ Society -Journal</cite> was the outcome of revenge.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But in one respect the journal was serviceable. It threw a -vivid light upon the standard of excellence which the world -expects in Christian people, and many readers turned away -from its columns with uneasy consciences. Even <em>The Saints’ -Society</em> had a generous word for real goodness, but for those -who professed to be religious and yet were not good it -had no mercy. It devoted a whole page to paragraphs -referring to incidents in which professors fell below their -ideal. The following are illustrations from a single number -of the paper:—</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Art and Artful.</span>—One day last week a young lady brought -a painting to a fine art depository in the West-end, and asked -the proprietor to buy it for two pounds. He looked at it, and -declared the price ridiculously high, inquiring, with a sneer, where -she got such a lofty estimate of her own talents. She replied that -she was in most urgent need of two pounds, and felt sure that the -picture was worth the money. He told her to take her picture -and clear out if she had no more sense than that. Then she -asked him what he would give her for it; and he replied that he -would pay her eighteen shillings. With trembling lips she said -eighteen shillings would not be enough, she must have more; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>would he not make it twenty-five? No, he replied, not a penny -more than eighteen shillings. Eventually, she left it on sale or -return, and was to call again in two or three days. It was an -exquisite little gem, and before the day was ended it was sold. -A gentleman bought it for ten guineas. Two days later, the -artist called again and saw the proprietor. Was her picture -sold? Oh yes, it was sold, and there was the money for it—eighteen -shillings. The poor girl began hysterically to beg for -more, and to ask in agony, what should she do? The dealer -in art ordered her to leave his premises, and not make a scene, or it -would become unpleasant for her; and after vainly trying to melt -the heart of stone of the art man, she went away cursing him. -But he is a much respected churchwarden of St. Ronald’s. Could -a wronged girl’s curse touch <em>him?</em>”</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Going Shares.</span>—A gentleman had in his employment a -skilled workman to whom he paid thirty-five shillings a week, -which is about the usual wages for the sort of work he did. -Ten years ago the workman saw how, by a slight alteration in a -machine, the work might be done much more advantageously, -and he told his master. ‘A very good idea, Smith,’ he said; -‘can you manage to set it down in writing and make a drawing -of it?’ Smith did so, and the master had it patented. He has -just died, leaving a fortune of sixty thousand pounds, made -chiefly, as all the world knows, by that improved machine. Did -he go shares with Smith? Oh, yes! This is how he went shares: -he gave him a pound for his idea; and before he died Mr. Jones -made things still more right by leaving two hundred pounds to -the hospital in which Smith is ending his days!”</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>A Case of Starvation</span> has just been brought to light in -King Court. A screaming child attracted the notice of the -police, who broke into the room from which the sounds issued. -A dead woman lay on the bare floor, and by her side a naked -female child was endeavouring to awaken the mother. There -was not a scrap of food in the place, and the only furniture was a -wooden stool, a table, a ginger-beer bottle, and an old blanket, -which partly covered the body of the corpse. The room was a -very small one; the floor was broken in several places; there -were three broken panes of glass in the window; the walls -were damp and dirty, and the ceiling far from waterproof. -An inquest will be held to-morrow. It has been ascertained -by our detective that the woman paid four shillings a week -for this room. We had some difficulty in finding the real -owner of the house; but we have discovered him to be -Mr. John Smith, of Albert Buildings. Mr. Smith is a deacon of -the Duke Street Church. The woman made sacks. By working -thirteen hours a day she could earn tenpence. She was employed -by Mr. Samuel Sneed, of Thames Place. Mr. Sneed attends the -church of Mole Street. He is the respected leader of the Band of -Hope.”</p> - -<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>“<span class='sc'>A Shocking Accident</span> has occurred in Westleigh, a London -suburb, to John Lane, the driver of a grocer’s van. His horse -stumbled, and he was thrown from his seat; the horse lost its -footing and fell on the unfortunate man. The vehicle was overturned, -and it was with difficulty the horse was removed; but -when this had been accomplished it was discovered that the man -was dead. Two of his brothers subsequently demanded his -watch, each declaring himself to be the elder, and the policeman -gave it to the one whose appearance pointed him out as the -senior. A disgraceful fight ensued, during which the watch got -injured. The man has left a wife and three children; but as the -widow was too much overcome with grief to demand the watch -for her deceased husband’s eldest son, and no one spoke for her -(<em>although two parsons were in the crowd</em>), she has lost the watch as -well as her husband.”</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Modern Girls.</span>—On Sunday evening, at seven o’clock, the -servant left in charge of No. 1. Freeman Street, was summoned -to the door by a loud peal of the bell. As soon as she opened it, -a company of rough girls rushed in, pushing the servant violently -into a back room and locking her in. They then proceeded to -ransack the house, and appropriated all the money, jewellery, -plate, and other moveable articles they could find, after which -they took what food there was, and departed. It is satisfactory -to be able to state that these girls—fifteen in number—were -found spending the stolen money in the Half Moon public-house, -in Bull Street—satisfactory, because so many of these things have -occurred lately, and the police have not been able to detect the -offenders. Unfortunately, however, thirteen of the girls managed -to escape after the policemen who endeavoured to arrest them -had been severely beaten, and the house in which they were found -almost wrecked by them. They were angry because the landlord -did not bar his doors against the upholders of the law, and -declared that they, who had hitherto been his best customers, -would ruin him. Our detective has interviewed two of the girls -who escaped, and they have informed him that every one of the -fifteen had at some time or other been scholars in a Sunday-school.”</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Last Night</span> a band of boys and girls assembled in Oxford -Street, and for an hour held revelry there before the police succeeded -in dispersing them. Several persons were robbed, and an -old lady was so much hurt that she had to be taken to the -hospital. The leader of the gang was the son of the Rev. J. B. -Yellowstone; and his seconder was the son of Mr. Waller, an -active Christian man and churchwarden.”</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>A Sailor’s Freak.</span>—A young man, who was under orders to -sail and return in the steamship <em>Smart</em>, has been summoned for -neglect of duty. He was one of Miss King’s saints, and having -been converted and signed the pledge, announced his intention of -never sailing under a flag which waved above a cargo of alcohol -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>going to foreign shores. But the young prig reckoned without -his host. He was compelled to keep his engagement, although -he made the discovery that the <em>Smart</em> carried both London gin -and Scotch and Irish whisky. Somewhere out at sea the ship fell -in with a fleet of fishing-boats. It was found that the <em>Smart</em> was -licensed, and the captain ordered the lad to serve the customers -who floated round the ship. This he refused to do. He was put -in chains, and kept on a diet of bread and water. But his insubordination -was repeated on several occasions, both while the -ship was on the sea and when she was in port. His defence was -that he did not engage to be a barman in a floating grog-shop, -but that his work was to help sail the ship. The magistrate, -however, informed him that he was to do as his captain bade him, -and in order to enforce the lesson he gave him six months’ hard -labour. Our grandmotherly legislators will, no doubt, ask a -question to-night in the House.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But there were happier signs than these, which told that a -new revival was silently spreading among the churches. In -confirmation of this, we will give one more illustration from -<cite>Saints’ Society</cite>.</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Quixotic Saints.</span>—We are informed that a very lively scene -took place at Green Place Chapel, at a church meeting. The -subject under consideration was the debt on the chapel. The -building is one of the most ornate in the neighbourhood, and -has a pretty spire and stained-glass windows. The seats are -lined and cushioned throughout. The pulpit is of marble—the -gift of Mr. Golden, the well-known distiller. Upon the chapel -there is a debt of nearly four thousand pounds. The minister -feels the pressure of this debt, and besought his people to do their -utmost to lessen it. Mr. Smith, one of the leading men, made -the following remarks:—‘Our minister is not the only one who -would be glad to see this debt removed, and I for one am prepared -to do what I can. I have the pleasure to hand over to the -treasurer, on my own behalf, a second donation of thirty pounds. -And I am happy to say that my daughters have, during the past -month, been working for the cause. They have written seven -hundred letters to well-known persons in all parts of the country, -begging for help; and though I grieve that, so strong is the spirit -of worldliness in the land, more than two-thirds of the persons -addressed have not even had the courtesy to respond, they have -yet received cheques and postal orders to the amount of twenty-seven -pounds eighteen shillings and sixpence.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“A working man in the meeting said, ‘Sir, it is our chapel and -we ought to pay for it ourselves. It is well known that our -brother whose daughters have been flooding the land with begging -letters could, if he would, write a cheque for the whole -amount of the debt. The place has been built in accordance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>with his wish, and I for one hope he will see his way to give -instead of beg.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“Mr. Shelve, a gentleman in the middle of the room, next arose -with a beaming smile upon his countenance. ‘I, sir,’ he said, -‘am the bearer of good news. Like our friend Mr. Smith, I have -written a few letters, and in response to one of these I have received -this cheque for one hundred pounds, which I have much -pleasure in presenting in the name of the giver.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“Very loud applause followed this announcement, and then a -man asked, in a quiet voice, ‘Will Mr. Shelve kindly give us the -name of the generous friend?’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“‘Certainly,’ was the reply. ‘The munificent gift is from Mr. -William Quellset.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“‘Then,’ said the questioner, who was still on his feet, ‘I beg -to propose that we respectfully return this cheque to the sender. -Mr. William Quellset can well afford to give a hundred pounds to -this chapel, and he is anxious to stand well with the people of -this neighbourhood, whom he intends, if possible, to represent in -Parliament. But no blessing could go with any amount of money -from such a man.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“There was some interruption, and the speaker corrected himself. -‘I beg pardon; I know nothing of the personal character -of Mr. Quellset. I will therefore change the form of my words -and say, No blessing could go with money made as he makes his. -I suppose everybody knows that he is the patentee of those -lozenges which are so attractive that probably the wives and -daughters of nine-tenths of the men present are eating them -every day—the lozenges to which he has not given the name -of opium, but which have done more than anything else to -make opium-eating universal amongst us. As our Government -grows opium, and is anxious to sell it, it has contented itself, as -you know, with imposing a duty on Mr. Quellset’s articles, and -many a statesman quiets his conscience in regard to this growing -evil by telling himself that the country is enriched by this increase -to its revenue. Sir, the country is being ruined by it. -The drink has slain its thousands and opium is slaying its tens -of thousands. Mr. Quellset has found out how to make it -palatable, and he has grown enormously rich; but surely, sir, we -do not now live in days when men think they can purchase -pardon and heaven by presenting to the Church a small part -of their ill-gotten gains. I hope there may be found some one to -second my proposition.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“‘I will do so,’ said a blunt, uneducated man, ‘and I cry shame -on any church which, for the sake of adorning its building, will -in such a way as Mr. Shelve proposes thus make friends of the -mammon of unrighteousness.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“‘Sir,’ said another, ‘I move that the grateful thanks of this -church be presented to Mr. Quellset for his munificent gift. We -have been patiently listening to a lot of arrant nonsense. We -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>have nothing to do with the way in which a man chooses to make -his money. If we had, I should say that Mr. Quellset has done -the country more good than harm. He has found a new employment -for men, women, and children. He pays better wages for -box-making and all the other branches of his industries than -they could earn in many ways. It is not yet proved that opium -does more harm than alcohol; and, for my own part, I believe -that all these good gifts of God, taken in moderation, are -useful. And, besides, beggars must not be choosers, and it -would be an insane thing to return a man’s money when we need -it so much.’</p> - -<p class='c014'>“Nevertheless” [added the journal], “this Quixotic company of -saints decided by a majority to return the cash, and pay its debts -by the practice of its own self-denial and generosity.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were many quiet souls filled with piety and patriotism -who thanked God and took courage when they heard this, for -there was a leaven working in the real Christian society of the -day which was destined eventually to bring about a marvellous -change.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And this change, like almost everything else in England, -had to do with politics.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX.<br> <span class='large'>IN THE AUTUMN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Little Darentdale led the way.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The summer had not yet died into winter, nor had the -leisure which comes into a country parish with the short -days and long evenings left the thoughts of the people free. -Nevertheless, some time and thought were given to an experiment -which John Dallington, urged by Arthur Knight, -had proposed should be tested in the village. The village -was a small one, and it was almost wholly agricultural. -There were about thirty persons who were employers of -labour, and the rest were employed by them. Thirteen were -looked up to as belonging to the moneyed classes, and of -these, Mr. Whitwell—who lived out of the village, but had -property in it—and John Dallington were the principal individuals. -They employed on their farms the largest number -of labourers, but besides these there were two smaller farmers, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>and several other persons who owned or rented a few acres of -land, a gentleman who had retired from his business in -London and had bought a good-sized house and garden, a -lady of limited income, who kept one servant, and the general -shopkeeper, who combined the businesses of chemist and -druggist, draper, grocer, and coal dealer, all in one. There -were, besides, two bakers, a blacksmith, a butcher, four -publicans, and Henry Harris.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We have everything in our own hands,” said John -Dallington, “and it ought to be possible for us to have each -man, woman, and child in our care, if not under our control. -We may not be able to make the villagers religious; but -surely it is possible so to govern our little world that there -shall be no poverty in it, but every one have a share in the -comforts and refinements which the richest enjoy. I find -that we have some poor to be relieved, and some evilly-disposed -persons—the most poor and the most miserable of -all—who must be helped out of themselves.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were eight persons in conference—the Vicar, the -Rev. George Emerson, the Baptist minister, the Rev. Henry -Marshall, and the chief supporter of the Methodists—Mr. -Rouse, who was also the principal tradesman in the place—Mr. -Whitwell, and Dallington. There was here, happily, -no bitterness between the Clergyman and the Dissenting -ministers. The men knew each other so well that they had -lost the disposition for fighting. In theory, of course, Mr. -Marshall thought the Church should be disestablished, and -when the time came he would do his duty, and vote to that -effect; in theory, too, Mr. Emerson thought the Dissenters -were schismatics, and ought to be repressed; but in practice -the men were brothers, who respected the good which they -saw in each other, and carried together the burden of the -souls of the people. Neither begrudged the other the success -which came to him, both mourned because they, though -helped by the Salvationists and Methodists, failed between -them to bring to the house of God as many as two-thirds of -the people of Darentdale. But for this sympathy which -existed between the Christian workers of the denominations, -Dallington would have had no hope whatever for the success -of his plan.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They had before them a list of the inhabitants, the joint -work of Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell, which gave all -necessary particulars of the family and circumstances of -each householder, together with certain facts touching their -character, religion, and occupation—a list quite easily drawn -up, since every individual was well known.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“Our parochial system has already parcelled out the -country,” began Mr. Emerson.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And placed a gentleman in every parish,” quoted Mr. -Marshall, with a significant smile.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Exactly; and to help him teach the people the Free -Churches have been established, so that it is certainly not -an impossible thing for us together to provide religious -instruction on the Sunday, and visitation during the week. -I do not quite know how it is that we have failed to get hold -of so many of the people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“For part of the trouble our collections are responsible,” -said Mr. Marshall. “The working classes do not care to be -asked continually for money.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not think they mind paying for what they have,” -said the Methodist. “The penny a week from our people -comes in readily enough, and the Salvation Army procures -immense sums from the working-classes. The real difficulty -is that men do not consider religion a thing worth paying for. -They judge it by its professors, and pronounce it a fraud or -a failure, because so many of us are not what we declare -religion makes people to be. There is not enough difference -between those who are naturally good and those who profess -to have been made good by grace.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Exactly,” said the clergyman. “Among the poor and -irreligious of this village there is no man so highly respected -as Mr. Harris, who never darkens the doors of church or -chapel.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; the carnal mind is still at enmity against God,” remarked -the Baptist minister. “But is not even that, to a -great extent, because the representatives of Christ have -failed to prove that they are the bringers of good tidings? -What is your gospel of help to the people, Mr. Dallington?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Better wages, better homes, more leisure, better amusements, -better education,” he replied, promptly; “every Christian -employer the friend and brother of his own people; every -church the centre of a religious activity which leaves none -near it untouched by brotherly love. And charity begins at -home, and everybody is to look after his own neighbour.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The little company knew that he was himself doing that -which he urged them to do, and this gave him the greater -power and influence.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The meeting was a very practical one. The farmers -declared that they would slightly increase the wages of their -men, and follow Dallington’s plan. Each cottager should -have a strip of land for a garden, and every one who was -willing to repair his own house during the winter should have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>the materials given him. They knew that Dallington had set -before him the task of winning back the whole of his inheritance, -but he would not do it at the expense of the comfort -and well-being of his men. Mr. Whitwell was not so -rich as he was thought to be, but a few pounds could be -spared which, paid in shillings, would make all the difference -to the families of some of his men. The only thing which -had hitherto prevented him from paying more in some cases -was his desire not to appear more generous than his neighbours.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was agreed at the meeting that there should be an invitation -sent to all the better-class people in the village to -come to the vicarage for consultation. After that, “all who -professed and called themselves Christians” were invited to -the same place, the vicarage being selected instead of the -schoolroom of the Baptist Chapel, out of deference to the -bigotry of a few Church people.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And so it was decided that when November came a wonderful -thing should happen. But in the meantime the -summer lingered, and John Dallington was in love with it. -One fine morning he said, “I am amazed at the manner in -which English people libel their own climate. Never -were such perfect summer days as these; nor is there, in -any part of the world, grander harvest scenery.” As he -spoke his eyes looked lovingly over the prospect before him, -which was, indeed, a pleasant one. The remark was made to -two of his cousins, Edith and Tom, who had ridden over to -Darentdale with a message from their father, and having -delivered it to the young farmer, whom they found where he -ought to have been, among his fields, were lingering by his -side. John’s hand was on the neck of the horse on which -his youngest cousin sat, and she glanced at him with a smile -half merry and half sad as he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I am glad that for once the season is behaving properly,” -she said. “It does not often, and it is well that you -should not find everything disappointing. All your hay is safely -in, I see; so is ours, and father is better tempered than ever in -consequence. But don’t be too sanguine. Remember the -proverb, ‘Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall -not be disappointed.’ I should be sorry to suggest evil; but -there are such things, even in this magnificent English -climate, as storms of wind and rain, and even hail, that spoil -the crops of the most hopeful men.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But they will surely respect John’s crops,” said Edith, -“especially after he has so complimented the weather. I am -glad you are courageous enough to grow corn at all, for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>it will scarcely pay you to compete with the foreign wheat -in the market. England will soon cease to be a corn-growing -country.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Never mind; let England grow men,” said Dallington, -“and all the other lands grow corn for them to eat. You -know the English-speaking race is destined to dominate the -world.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Say the worlds, while you are about it, John. You are a -true Englishman in conceit of your country. I think the -dominant race might be improved,” remarked Tom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So do I; but we are getting on all the same. The real -aristocracy—that of character—is realising its power a little, -and before you are many years older, Tom, you will see a -change.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes? Then I promise that when it comes I will remember -the words of the prophet John.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are winning golden opinions from your labourers,” -said Edith. “You have followed father’s example, I hear, -and given them pieces of ground for their own use. Now -that so much of the land produces nothing but grass it will -not mean as great a loss to you as gain to them. Old -Benham said to me, ‘Lor’, miss, our young master be a brick, -and no mistake;’ and, you know, to be called a brick is the -highest praise any one can hope for.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose that is because I have told him he shall have as -many bricks as he likes with which to build a wing to his -house.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid your men will not take the trouble to do the -work, even though you give the time and material.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think they will,” said John, quietly. “Indeed, I am -sure of it; and this is another prophecy for you to remember, -Tom. Are you not coming into the house? How -tired you look!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom answered hastily: “No, we cannot call; we saw Mr. -Hunter as we passed, and father will be expecting us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Tom is not well,” said Edith; “she is always tired now; -she has lost her appetite, and she does not sleep. I want -father to let us go away for a change——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do not be stupid, Edith,” interrupted Tom, irritably; “I -am all right, and where could we find purer air and more -bracing breezes than on our own farm? The sea? Oh, it is -not half as good as this! Besides, think of the poor wretches -in London being baked and boiled in stifling streets and -rooms! Good-bye, John, and a good harvest to you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Tom,” he said, “the poor people in London will not be -any cooler because you deny yourself sea-breezes.” But Tom -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>only lifted her hat in her most gentlemanly fashion, and rode -away with a smile on her lips that quivered with pain the -next moment.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John was very fond of his cousin, and was really troubled -at the change which he saw in her appearance, and which he -felt also, though he could not define it. He would probably -have ridden after her, but that his mind was turning in -another direction than that of Hornby Hall, for he knew -that Margaret Miller was at Scourby, and, guessing that she -would walk home in the evening, he was resolved at all -hazards to meet her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret’s home was in the centre of the pretty Darentdale -Village, and the name of it was “The Old House”—a -name which was appropriate since it was the oldest dwelling -in the place. The other inhabitants were a man whom she -called grandfather, whose name was Henry Harris, and his -housekeeper, Ann Johnson. The Old House had originally -belonged to John Dallington’s uncle, Captain Frank Dallington, -and it was he who brought Harris to Darentdale. -Margaret came with them, and since she was but a child they -at once made inquiries for a suitable person to act as foster-mother -to her as well as housekeeper to Harris. Ann Johnson -presented herself, and was accepted; nor had there been -reason to regret the appointment, for she had proved herself -warm-hearted, if somewhat rough, and entirely trustworthy, -though peculiar. The Old House had previously been empty -for some time, for Captain Dallington would neither let it -nor live in it; but he had it furbished up and comfortably -furnished, and then he spent some months in it with Harris. -There were plenty of rooms in the house, and one of them -which faced the front was turned into a bookseller’s shop. -But Darentdale folk were not great readers, and the trade -was so small that the people became rather suspicious about -the shop, and often wondered where Harris got the money to -enable him to live comfortably. He, however, vouchsafed no -information, and when Ann Johnson was questioned, she -always began telling a tale about somebody or other, -instead of giving a definite answer, so the Darentdalers had -nothing left but to exercise their imagination. Mr. Harris -was for some time no favourite in the place. Some said -he was an atheist, though he was pronounced generally -to be neither one thing nor the other. He did not go to -either of the inns to spend his evenings sociably with his -neighbours; but neither when a Temperance Mission was -held did he don the Blue Ribbon. As to politics, he acknowledged -that he was neither a Tory nor a Radical, but voted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>for the best man—as if the man had anything to do with -it when there was the party to support! The villagers -did not know what to make of a man who never called others -names, and had no principles at all. But he had now been -at Darentdale fifteen years, and it was strange how few -people there were in the parish who, at some time or other, -had not been helped by Henry Harris. There was nobody -like him for getting another out of a difficulty, and almost -every one had been glad to avail himself of the unostentatious -assistance that was always ready. But some people liked -Harris less on that account, and a few whom he had served -the most were the most sure that they owed him a grudge. -It is only noble people who know how to accept help -gracefully.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Nobody disliked him more than John Dallington’s mother. -But she had more reason than others for her disaffection, -because she had a settled conviction that Harris and his -granddaughter had money which she ought to have. Captain -Dallington, who was always a wanderer, did not return to -Darentdale after he had installed Harris and the child in the -Old House. He had now been dead some years, and when -his will was read his brother and his wife were astonished to -find how little he had to leave. What he had was bequeathed -to his relatives, excepting “the Old House, and all that was -in it,” which was left to Henry Harris and Margaret Miller -after him. The phrase—“and all that is in it”—had given -John Dallington’s mother many an unhappy hour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But what it was that was in it nobody outside the house -knew, excepting that for the last few years there was in that -Old House the most beautiful and interesting girl that -Darentdale ever owned. It was not her beauty alone, nor -her tall, graceful figure, nor her musical voice, nor her sweet, -brown eyes that were the attraction; but there was a charm -about her that could not be named, and generally could not -be resisted. Most people loved Margaret, even those who -did not want to.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret, visiting Mrs. Wythburn, found her preparing for -her departure. “We have made up our minds,” she said, “to -go to London. Mary is there, and my husband believes that -we shall be able to find her if we watch there. So we have -taken rooms as near as possible to the Bank; and we quite -hope to be successful in our search. We are willing that she -should remain at the work she has chosen to do; and we shall -no doubt eventually live in London altogether.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But it is a pity to leave the country for London now, -when the weather is so unusually hot.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>“Our child is enduring the heat somewhere, and so can we. -Besides, we cannot stay at Scourby. Do you know that -Alfred Greenholme is already engaged to Hilda Copeland?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; but I am not surprised. She is far more suitable for -him than our splendid Mary, who never could have been -happy as his wife. I hope you are not letting that trouble -you, Mrs. Wythburn?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps it is annoyance rather than trouble. Mrs. -Greenholme herself told me, and naturally, I had an unpleasant -ordeal to go through. But the worst of it is, -Margaret, that the people are setting very disagreeable -stories afloat. Mrs. Greenholme said it was reported in the -town that Mary and Dr. Stapleton had gone off together.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, the slanderous tongues! How dare they give utterance -to such abominable falsehoods! I should feel disposed to -try to trace the lie to its source, though really it would -be waste of time, for no one who knows Mary could -believe it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I am sure that something is wrong with Dr. Stapleton. -He is not in the least like himself. He looks ten years older -since Mary’s disappearance. And his charges are almost -double what they were. He is making the poor pay now, -which, you know, he never did before, for he has always been -most attentive and kind to those who could not pay him. He -is often away, and cannot be found; and when he is summoned -he is absent-minded and disagreeable. And people -say all this looks suspicious, especially as he and Mary were -known to be great friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, my dear Mrs. Wythburn, every one will know that it -is only a coincidence! Dr. Stapleton must have some trouble -which he does not care to publish; but, of course, it has -nothing to do with Mary. I am very sorry for him; he has -always been so kind and good. But I hope for every reason -that Mary will soon let you know where she is, and then all -this will be made right.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Wythburn entered the house while they were talking, -and he was in excellent spirits.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We shall be happy to see you in London, Margaret. We -have not yet selected our town house, but when we have there -will be a room for you in it. And we are going to catch -Mary and chastise her. We have spoiled the child by sparing -the rod. Now we shall alter all that!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is rather late to begin, is it not?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Better late than never. But do you know, Margaret, I -am coming to think that Mary is right. Some of us do not -deserve to be called Christians, or to have any comfort, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>because we spend our lives on such a low level. Mary shall -train up her parents in the way they should go.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That will suit Mary very well, no doubt; for that is what -all young people feel called upon to do in these days.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I think we needn’t be very unhappy about her. I am -thankful that on her birthday I made over that money to her -and gave her the cheque-book. She will not want for anything -that money can buy, and that is a great comfort.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let me help you to get ready,” suggested Margaret; and -before she left the boxes were packed, the carriage was -ordered, and Mr. and Mrs. Wythburn were almost as jubilant -as if they were going to London on their honeymoon.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The hot afternoon was wearing towards evening when -Margaret started on her homeward journey. She elected to -walk, for it was delightful to be out of doors, and having -nothing to cause her to hasten her steps, she might linger in -the green lanes and sunny fields as long as she pleased, and -so the burden of care was rolled away.</p> - -<p class='c011'>How blue the skies were and how fresh was the air! -Margaret felt that everything was friendly towards her. -The flowers seemed to look into her eyes as she touched them -with caressing fingers. She had always a feeling that they -knew who loved them, and could be happy or sad as other -and bigger things were. She never gathered them to die in -hot rooms, or faint their lives away, plucked and then -neglected. She loved and cared for them, and thought they -knew it. The birds were growing silent, but a few even now -sang to her, and she answered them.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Yes, my Father cares for you,</div> - <div class='line'>Little birds amid the blue;</div> - <div class='line'>Praise Him, and I praise Him, too.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>You know little of His care;</div> - <div class='line'>I, who feel Him everywhere,</div> - <div class='line'>Voice my love in praise and prayer.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>You a little while may sing:</div> - <div class='line'>I will love and praise my King,</div> - <div class='line'>Yonder, in unending spring.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>There was no one in sight, and Margaret’s sweet, clear -voice rose and fell as she pleased. Presently she was too -happy even to sing, for God seemed so near to her, and all -things so glad that her eyes grew dim for very sympathy -with the world. A little aside from the path, and near a -gate, was a beautiful ash-tree, whose roots provided a comfortable -seat, and she sat down to rest, and was presently -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>lost in thought. Some one was approaching, but she did not -see or hear him until he was almost close to her. Then she -arose and turned, her face lighted with the thought that had -been last in her mind, and confronted John Dallington.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He came eagerly forward, a great gladness in his heart.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret was glad, too, as the rose colour in her face might -have told him, and she lifted her eyes a moment to his with -all the pleasure in them; but they fell before his gaze, for it -told her almost too much.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Which way are you going? Home? So am I. Let us go -together—<em>together</em>.” He lingered on the word, for it was -sweet to him—he would that they should always go together! -“Margaret, say you are glad to see me, if you honestly can.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am unfeignedly glad,” said Margaret in a low voice, and -she asked herself how she could possibly be other than glad? -But she was almost frightened to find how great the joy was, -and how necessary it became that she should keep her -feelings under control.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ah! what a walk that was! They were both so young and -so noble—so loving, too,—and all Nature was in sympathy -with them. They had plenty to say—at least Dallington had; -but the moments when they said nothing, and a soft silence -fell upon them, were the sweetest, for they were side by side, -and could glance into each other’s eyes when they did not -hear the voice which was to the other the best-loved music of -the world.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Time passes swiftly under such conditions, and the distance -across the fields appeared as nothing. Quite before they -expected it the spire of Darentdale Church became visible, -and then Dallington turned from the path.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let us go this way,” he said. “We do not want to get -home just yet, do we?” Margaret hesitated. He asked, “Are -you too tired to go farther?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; I am certainly not too tired,” she said. “But I have -been away all day, and my grandfather may have wanted me. -I must return soon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well; we will not go far. But tell me about yourself,” -he said. “Do you know that I went to the chapel on -my first Sunday evening at home, and saw you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wondered very much what made you do that thing? It -could not have been pleasant; was it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Indeed, it was not.” Margaret was silent for a few -minutes; and then she continued, in the low tones which she -always used when she was deeply moved, “The fact is, that a -change has come over me lately. I was always helped to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>form habits which were of the better sort, and I thought -myself a very good Christian until a little while ago, when, -after I had read a book opposed to Christianity, I began to -really study the New Testament.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And what did you find?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I found Christ.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; it was not ‘of course’ at all. I had read it many -times, and found a great deal about Him that was interesting -and beautiful. But I had not found <em>Him</em>, which is quite a -different thing. It is as if I had been in the dark, and a -sudden flash had lighted up everything.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish the flash would come to me! I am anxious to see -that Sermon on the Mount put into living form.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But it can never be while it is considered to be merely an -exquisite literary production, to be praised and patronised. -It has to be acknowledged as a code of laws absolutely -binding on those who profess to be the disciples of Him who -proclaimed it. But it is impossible for these laws to be -entirely obeyed except by those who have found in Christ -the Regenerator of themselves. Don’t you think so? I used -to admire Him and venerate Him, and perhaps fear Him a -little; but now it is all so different; I know Him, a living, -reliable, present Friend and Companion. And I love Him -because He first loved me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dallington looked into the beautiful eyes, alive with feeling, -and said, “And He is really <em>real</em> to you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Real to me?” she cried. “I am not more real to myself. -And it is all so wonderful!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And that ceremony in the chapel was the outcome of all -this? And, I suppose, you mean to live up to it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am certainly going to try.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret let us try together. I cannot let you go without -telling you that which is my heart. Do you remember what -the last words were which I said to you before I went away?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret had grown pale, and was trembling. “You must -not say them again,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, indeed, I have been saying them ever since, and I -shall say them as long as we both live. I chose you for my -own dear love when I was a boy, and now that I see you as -you are—oh, Margaret, surely you must love me a little, -because you see how dear you have been to me all these -years!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you know,” said Margaret, very gently, “that I -must not let myself care for you. The old reasons remain -still.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>“I know of no reason in the world that should keep us -apart. When I spoke to you before I was not my own -master; but now I am free to decide for myself. Oh, my -darling, if you love me we shall be so happy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret turned from his pleading eyes as she answered, -“You have the duties and responsibilities of your position. -You must not be unfaithful to them. And you must not -marry one who is beneath you; and——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Beneath me! Oh, Margaret, do not talk nonsense! I -cannot bear it. The only inequality there is between you and -me is that I am not half worthy of you, not half good enough -for you. And you know already that I have my troubles—money -troubles, and others—so that life is going to be a -fight for me, as it is for most men. I am very much -worried already. No man needs a good wife to help him -more than I.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope you will find one, my friend,” said Margaret, bravely. -“No one would rejoice more heartily than I to see you happy -and prosperous. You must look for some one who can help -you financially as well as in every other way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dallington laughed a little bitterly. “My mother has -been telling me to marry money. I scarcely expected -Margaret Miller to give me the same advice. You are like -the rest of the world after all, I suppose. Do you mean to -marry money too, Margaret?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are you going to be cruel to me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, dear; but neither must you be to me. Margaret, -listen to me. I will not persecute you with unwelcome -attentions; but I will not give you up until I discover that -you are promised to another. You have grown so lovely and -so sweet that, of course, you may have already learnt to care -for some one else”—Margaret smiled—“but I do not think -you have; and if you say No to-day, I shall ask you again. I -have thought of you in every land to which I have gone. I -have compared, or rather, contrasted—all women with you. -Once, when I was ill, a strange feeling came over me that you -were praying for me. It was my greatest hope when I returned -to England that at last you would accept me. I have -been very faithful to you, Margaret, because I love you—I -love you! Darling, give me my answer now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They were standing under the shade of a tree in the lane -behind Margaret’s home, and none saw or heard but the birds. -The girl hesitated for a few seconds. It was no use to try to -persuade herself that she did not care for him, for she knew -better. He was searching her face with eager eyes, and she -dared not meet his passionate gaze. She had given him love -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>for love all along, and it was this that made it impossible for -her to care for those who in his absence had sought her hand. -Ah! yes, she loved him, and because she did his happiness -should be dearer to her than her own. Oh! if she could -believe that it would be really best for him, so that she might -give him the answer he wanted, and which was throbbing in -her heart and trembling on her lips! Might she? Dare -she? True love is always humble, and there were strong -reasons why Margaret’s should be especially so; and yet——</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, my darling, you do care for me!” he said, and -he drew her gently toward him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Care for you? Oh, John, John!” It was no use; love is -stronger than anything. She yielded herself for a moment -to his arms, and he took his first sweet kiss of love.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER X.<br> <span class='large'>IN PARADISE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Who is responsible for the naming of places?</p> - -<p class='c011'>Paradises and Edens are plentiful in London, if there -is anything in names: but some of them have surely received -their cognomens in bitter irony. Near Mr. Knight’s premises -was a court which was called Nightingale Lane, and -another known as Wild Rose Court, the houses in which -were, most of them, a disgrace to civilisation. But there -was another, containing about seventy dwellings, which rejoiced -in the name of Paradise Grove. Away at the -church, the sound of whose bells came in a sort of muffled -music, they used sometimes to sing about Paradise in the -anthem—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>O Paradise! O Paradise!</div> - <div class='line'>Who doth not crave for rest?</div> - <div class='line'>Who would not seek the happy land</div> - <div class='line'>Where they that love are blest?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>But this Paradise was hot and close and dreadfully dirty. At -the open windows of the little houses men sat in ragged shirts -and trousers, and worked off and on every day but Monday. -There was a smell of dirt everywhere, and the children, -escaping from the vigilance of the School Board officer, lay -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>about in the dusty road until they looked like heaps of dust -themselves. As for the language heard in Paradise, it was -astonishingly bad. The men could scarcely utter a sentence -without bringing in some oaths. The children, even when -they meant to say good-natured things to each other, used -the foulest of our language; and, worst of all, the girls raised -yells of laughter by their filthy conversation. There was not -a tree in Paradise Grove, nor a flower of any kind, but weeds -grew there, and ill thoughts and utter misery.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Were there no churches or chapels or missions near?</p> - -<p class='c011'>Oh, yes! But the Grove people did not believe in Christianity, -and declared themselves against humbugs. They -were fond of that word, and applied it to every one who was in -any way better than themselves.</p> - -<p class='c011'>No one had succeeded in effecting an entrance into the -hearts of the inhabitants of Paradise Grove until a young -woman, plainly dressed in grey cloak and hat, and having -a sweet, sad face, had called at the doors with a basket of -articles which she was anxious to sell. The people looked -at her a little suspiciously at first. If she had brought -tracts and magazines, she might go where she came from; -they had had such visitors before. But she assured them, -with a smile, that tracts and magazines were not in her line. -She had large pieces of beautiful soap, exceedingly cheap, -and would sell for a halfpenny a piece big enough for the whole -family. And she had good scrubbing-brushes and hairbrushes, -for which she would take a few pence only; and -little white table cloths; no one knew what a difference -it made to a room if a white cloth were put on a table before -the loaf was placed upon it. The Grove men and women -thought it perfect nonsense. Where was the good of wasting -money over such extravagances as table-cloths? There was -some sense in getting more to eat. When the people had -their way, and right was done, chickens and hares and -pheasants would be within the reach of the poor. If one -of them could be placed beside the loaf, <em>that</em> would be something -worth talking about. But in the meantime the woman’s -things were certainly cheap, and she appeared very anxious -to sell them; so now and then a purchase was made—especially -when the women found that they could pawn the -articles for as much as, or more than, they had given for -them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>By degrees the woman and her basket had come to be -familiar objects in Paradise Grove, and the people had grown -to like her a little. She never attempted to meddle with -them or lecture them. They tried once or twice to shock -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>and frighten her; but she did not seem afraid; only, at -first, it was noticed that if two men or women happened -to be quarrelling and fighting when she came, she turned -faint, and had to leave the neighbourhood. She never could -be got to take sides in a quarrel; and now and then, very -gently and unassumingly, she tried to put in a peacemaking -or quieting word, but generally she was content to sell the -articles she had brought, and explain their use.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The best of all was that the woman seemed to know about -ailments, and what could cure them. There was always some -one ill in Paradise Grove, and “the Basket Woman,” as they -called her, carried medicine which generally did the sick -ones good. Also, she made a very pleasant drink. It was -not ale, for you could drink a gallon of it, and it would not -get into your head; but it tasted something like ale, and was -almost as nice.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But whether it was crockery, or medicine, or drink, the -woman never would give it away or sell it on trust. Her -wares were both cheap and good, but she would be paid for -them; and so when she came they had to find their money. -And this very fact caused them to respect her and themselves. -Some of the women got quite an air of independence as they -talked to her, and some of the men, respectable in whole -shirts which she had sold them, held up their heads with an -expression of superiority which was altogether new.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Certainly the most popular person in Paradise was the -“Basket Woman.” But one day a Paradise girl, who rejoiced -in the name of Fan Burton, spread through the Grove the -news that their “Basket Woman” was not a basket woman -at all, but a lady, who only pretended to sell things -that she might “get round them.” Fanny had seen her -dressed and talking to a gentleman. Why this should make -any difference it would be difficult to tell; but after Fan had -cleverly and maliciously circulated this news, the women -chose to feel themselves “sold,” and a strange reaction set in. -“She has had us nicely!” said Fan. “Let’s pay her out for -it. I shouldn’t wonder if she turns out one of them female -detectives, or, perhaps, she’s worse; how do we know as that -drink and medicine ain’t poison? I don’t trust her one bit. -Well, I ain’t had none of her rubbish, except a scrubbing-brush, -and that can’t hurt me much.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Then other women took the same tone; one especially told -how she had been impudent enough to interfere when Mrs. -Broggins beat her Sammy, as if a woman mightn’t do what -she liked with her own brat. And what business was it of -that Basket Woman’s, so long as Sammy wasn’t killed? She -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>talked about fetching the police, she did—ah! she forgot herself -then; she was mostly a meek-faced thing enough, but -everybody had seen how she flared up about that boy—“a -himperant, hinterferen ’ussy” as she was!</p> - -<p class='c011'>Things looked rather black for the Basket Woman; and it -would have been well if some one could have warned her. -But there was no one to do it, and she came into the Grove -as usual, with a smile upon her face.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I beg your pardon,” she said, pleasantly, “I dare say you -know as well as anybody how to knit?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It ain’t no business of yours whether I do or not,” said -the woman, in tones that became louder with every word. -Then a shout came down the road. “Basket Woman! come -here! I want a talk with you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A loud guffaw from all the women at all the doors showed -that something had happened to make the dwellers in the -Grove angry. The Basket Woman was not very courageous, -and her first impulse was to fly; but she went toward the -person who had called her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will you have some wool?” she asked. But the person -addressed turned angrily upon her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Wool, indeed? No; nor anything else that you have. -I’ll tell you what you are! You are a sneaking hypocrite.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A flush shot over the refined face, the basket was put down, -and she faced the woman and the group that had gathered -curiously around her. “Now, what is the matter? And -what does all this mean?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A torrent of abuse was poured upon her. She stood perfectly -still, and her face was now white but firm. Presently, -when there was a lull, she said, in a quiet, penetrating voice, -“How hard and unkind you women can be!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Clear out! We don’t want none of your tongue!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall not go until you have let me say one thing,” she -said, becoming suddenly brave. “I have as much right as -anybody to come here and try to sell things. Why are you -angry with me? Have I ever done you any harm?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were more shouts of scorn and anger, and nobody -was courageous enough to say a word in favour of the -stranger. In the crowd was a woman whose child she had -nursed through two nights of croup, and another whose house -she had cleaned because the mistress’s hand had been hurt. -The Basket Woman looked into the faces of these women -with pathetic wonder and disappointment, while all sorts of -things were shouted at her and of her. Then she turned -sorrowfully, and, taking up her basket, walked slowly out of -the court.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“I hope you will let me come again, when you are not quite -so angry with me, because I like you, and I thought some of -you were my friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>As she said the words her eyes fell on the face of Fanny -Burton, who looked sorry for her part in the matter, and who -felt more than a little doubtful as to whether she had not -made a mistake. But the woman herself was so sorely disappointed -that the tears sprang to her eyes, and her lips -quivered, as she slowly, and with gentle dignity, made her -way along the court to the street at the end of it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Drive her out!” somebody hissed presently, and then -there was sound of hurrying feet behind her. She quickened -her steps a little, but before she reached the entrance to the -court a big boy of eighteen came hastily behind her and gave -her a push of so violent a character that she was propelled -suddenly into the street and fell. With a wild yell the -women took to their heels, and, running up Paradise Grove, -disappeared in their houses.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Basket Woman lay stunned in the street, her head -having come in contact with the kerb-stone, and she remained -for several moments insensible.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A lady who was passing in her carriage had seen the -sudden rush in the street, and immediately went to the aid of -the prostrate woman. Some water was brought, and presently -the white eyelids opened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My carriage is here,” said the lady, who had been -intently regarding her. “Let me take you home with me for -some tea.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no, thank you! My home is quite near. I can reach -it, I am all right now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You belong to the Helpful Ministry, I can see,” said the -lady, “by whatever name you may call yourself; and you -have received quite the customary thanks and pay. My name -is Wentworth, and I love girls, and am glad to find any who -need mothering; and just now you need not only a mother’s -love, but a mother’s skill also. Come with me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Basket Woman sighed, and glanced at the kind face -beside her. But the next moment she grew frightened, and -answered hastily, “Oh, no, I cannot do that. Thank you so -much, but I would rather go to my lodging.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well, I will help you,” said Miss Wentworth, for it -was she. “No? I must not do that? Ah! I quite understand. -But you may trust me. Here is my card. Will you -promise to come and see me? If not, I shall not leave until -I know where to find you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was very tiresome, the Basket Woman thought; but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>she took the card, and gave the promise, and then crept -back to her lodging, and went at once to her bed, where -she remained for some days, with ample time and opportunity -for testing the efficacy of her own medicines. Truth -to tell, while enduring considerable pain and weakness, -she much wished that she could have accepted the kind -invitation of Miss Wentworth; but afterwards she was -glad she had not. As soon as she was able she called on that -lady, but was relieved to find that she was out. And then she -gave herself afresh to her work. Paradise Grove was her -own “happy hunting-ground,” and, therefore, she had taken -two rooms, and thoroughly whitewashed and cleaned them, -and lived among the people. She was glad to find that the -ill-feeling which had been roused against her seemed all to -have died out, and, as there never had been any in her heart, -she went on with her work as if nothing had happened. She was -needed just then for a bad case of sickness, and before that -duty was through an incident occurred in connection with -Fanny Burton that gave the Basket Woman great joy.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was Sunday, and Paradise Grove was less savoury than -usual. It was also more active, for most of the cleaning and -washing were done on that day. Sunday, too, was the grand -cooking-day of the week; everybody in the Grove tried to get -a little hot meat on the Sunday. Often it was not possible, -for in the Grove were many of the victims of London’s cruel -sweating system, and many a woman worked fourteen hours a -day for less than a shilling. Considering this terrible fight for -life, and the environments of these people, the wonder was that -they were not worse than they were. Happily, however, the -system was doomed, for England was determined not to -endure it, and public opinion was so severe on the sweaters -themselves that their number became less every month. -There was in process of formation a new Volunteer Corps, -which already numbered thousands of employers of labour, -who were sworn to abolish slavery in London, and set every -man, woman, and child free. The Basket Woman, like many -others, was preparing the way for this consummation.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny Burton was busy on Sunday morning. First she -helped her mother scrub the floor of the living room, and -then she washed and ironed a pair of cuffs and a pocket handkerchief; -next she brushed her Sunday dress, putting a stitch -here and there to make it tidy. The fact was that Fanny -was going out. George Green had invited her, and she had -consented, to take a walk to Harleigh Furze; and, as she -herself would have said, she was “counting on it,” not altogether -for George’s sake, but still more for the sake of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>flowers and the ferns; for this poor, uneducated girl, who -spent the greater part of her life in a close factory, had the -love of flowers born with her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Hurry on the dinner, mother,” she said; “I want to go -out.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well; you must get it ready yourself, then,” was the -curt reply. “Nobody else can please you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>After dinner Fanny hastened from the Grove to the appointed -rendezvous to meet George. He was not there, and -the girl waited nearly half an hour before he appeared. When -he came there was a sheepish look on his face. “How are -you, Fan? You won’t mind, will you, if Drom Jones goes -with us? She asked me to take her, and I couldn’t say we -wouldn’t have her. And we won’t go to the Furze. Drom -wants to go to Addington Park instead, because it’s nearer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A look of scorn came into Fanny’s eyes. Andromeda Jones -(the Paradise Grove people were fond of fine names) was no -favourite of hers, and George knew that.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have been counting on Harleigh Furze all the week,” -she said, “and I shall go there. You can take Drom Jones to -the Park if you like. It will not be the first shabby trick you -have played me, George Green, but it will be the last.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t be stupid, Fan. What is a fellow to do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What he likes.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>At this moment Andromeda herself appeared on the scene, -and, without another word, Fanny walked away.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But it was not until she had quite got away from the -houses, and had walked some distance from the tram terminus, -that she succeeded in overcoming the ill-humour that -possessed her; and when she entered a field where no one -was in sight, the first thing she did was to sit down upon a -green bank and shed a few hot tears—not many, for Fanny -was a girl of spirit, and did not indulge in such weaknesses -as a rule. It was not jealousy in regard to George Green that -troubled her, for after the first feeling of annoyance had -passed away she did not give him a thought, but a restlessness -that had taken possession of her, and that caused her to -feel her own life to be altogether unsatisfactory. Not that it -had ever occurred to her to think about her life until lately; -but a subtle change had been going on within the girl which -could scarcely be explained or accounted for. Fanny was -active and curious, and had the desire to know which characterises -some young folk. She had been sent to school long -enough to learn to read, and she devoured everything that -came in her way. Her knowledge, therefore, was of a very -miscellaneous kind. Such periodicals as Paradise Grove -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>affected were always read by her, for she borrowed every -scrap that she saw, and until lately no girl more loved to -shock the sensibilities of the Christian girls working beside -her with impudent and blasphemous assertions than Fanny -Burton. But, thanks to the Basket Woman, Fanny had certainly -been growing more quiet and less confident lately. -Instead of glorying in her surroundings she was sickened -by them, and there had sprung up within her a great scorn -of herself and her own people, and an awakening desire after -better things.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And here was the girl on a beautiful Sunday afternoon -away from the dirt and the heat of Paradise Grove, and face -to face with Nature. Every step that she took drew her -farther from the town and closer to the heart of the green -forest. The flowers grew in the hedge, the daisies kissed -her feet, the soft air fanned her face, and the tall grasses -thrust themselves caressingly into her ungloved hands. It -seemed that a great hush settled down upon her, and a new -refinement of feeling, and then a strange hunger after God. -The unbelievers’ words and works, the clamour of the court -where she lived, the riotous behaviour and noisy talk of companions, -seemed to be like things she had known in a bad -dream; and now she was living in a new life. Was it earth -or heaven? And would the great God—in whom, after all, -she did hope—take notice of poor Fan Burton? I do not -think that the feelings which so moved this girl would have -been called into existence had she gone to the woods in company -with her associates, or had the occasion been the annual -picnic of the factory where she worked, or even a Sunday-school -treat, where she was one of several hundreds. But she -was alone with Nature and with God; and perhaps if we -could make this possible to those for whom we build mission-halls, -and provide crowded meetings, others would be -similarly affected.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The girl walked or rested, with some new beauty to arrest -her at every step, and with peaceful, purifying thoughts -floating in her mind, until presently there came through the -trees the sweet sound of church bells chiming their invitation -to prayer. For a few moments, with clasped hands, and -eyes that dared to look earnestly up to the blue skies, she -stood and listened; and then, impelled by she knew not what, -she knelt on the grass and offered her first prayer—a prayer -odd enough to raise a smile if there had been any one to hear -it, but sincere enough to win its way to heaven.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Our Father which art in heaven, if You can hear me, and -if You can help me, please do. I am so hard and so wrong, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>and such a fool, that I don’t know nothing, but I want to -know, and I want to be better; please make me want it more. -If You will help me I’ll try to be good, for Thine is the kingdom, -the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen. -There, now, I’ve prayed; I really have prayed; and if there -is Anything to hear, something will come of it. Anyway, it -has done me good to pray, and I will go back home and see -what is to be done next.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Sweeter than ever seemed the flowers, and greener the -trees, as the girl walked quietly and reluctantly away from -the wood, feeling almost as if something new was going to -happen. Nothing did happen until she had nearly reached -Paradise Grove, and then she saw a crowd.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is it, Bet?” she asked of one of the girls who was -standing near.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Only the Salvation Army, as usual, come to convert us -all,” was the reply.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny did not laugh, as her custom was, but she went -toward the crowd, and pushed her way in and listened. A -man was talking of the love of God and somehow Fanny understood -it, for her mind was full of the beautiful sights and -sounds of the wood, which seemed to make the fact of God’s -love not only possible, but most likely to her. She had heard -it all before, but did not understand the whole of the address. -The words which the speaker, in common with all evangelists, -used bewildered her. “Come to Jesus! Will you not come -now and be saved?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>After the address a hymn was sung, “How Sweet the -Name of Jesus Sounds!” and then there was a prayer, and -the meeting was over.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny had been watching her opportunity, and as the -speaker moved away she laid a hand on his arm. “Tell me,” -she said, “tell me quietly what you mean. How am I to come -to Jesus?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“In prayer,” said the man. “Jesus can hear every word -you say just as well as when He was on earth; and He -says, ‘Come unto Me.’ You ask Him to save and forgive you, -and He will.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A girl with a Salvation Army bonnet on came up, and was -about to take possession of Fanny, but she, looking up, saw -the Basket Woman, who had no basket, as it was Sunday, -and who was regarding the scene with interest. She saw -something in Fanny’s eyes as they met hers; and this -friend of the people understood, and was at the girl’s side -in a moment.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is it?” she asked, gently. “Can I do anything for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>you? Your name is Fanny Burton, isn’t it? Will you come -into my room, and have a talk with me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny looked rather frightened, but she turned her -face toward the home of the Basket Woman, who shook -hands with the Salvation Army girl as if she were her -friend.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I know Miss Burton—she lives near me, and I should like -to help her if I may,” she said courteously; and the other, -with equal good feeling, quitted the court and joined her -friends.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You have never been to my home, have you, Fanny? I -am glad you are coming now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The room into which Fanny went was plainly furnished -and was scrupulously clean. On the table were a snowy cloth -and shining glasses, and two or three knives and forks, which -Fanny thought looked like silver. There was a delicious -scent of coffee, too, in the place, and, as the girl looked around, -she thought, “This is too good for me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will not stay now, thank you,” she said aloud. “Perhaps -I will come again another time, when you have had your -supper, or whatever it is.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, don’t say so. I do not like to eat alone. You do not -know how dull it is to be quite lonely, especially on Sunday,” -said the Basket Woman, and Fanny saw that there were tears -in her eyes. Fanny yielded instantly; and while they had -the simple meal together the Basket Woman talked to her on -all sorts of things. When the meal was over, and the coffee -drunk, they sat together in the pleasant room, and Fanny -told her friend where she had been, and some of the things -she had seen.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Fanny, I wish I had been with you! I love the -country so much. You went by tram, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and then I walked a long way. I think it was the -beautiful fields that made me feel queer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Queer? How do you mean, Fanny?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They made me sorry I am so bad, and they made me feel -as if I want to be better.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; that is just how they make me feel. Some day, -Fanny, not on Sunday though—perhaps next Saturday afternoon, -if you can spare the time—I should like so much to go -into the country with you. Would you be willing?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I should like it ever so much.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then we will go together, if nothing happens to prevent. -I was glad to see you listening to the Salvation Army. Did -you ever go to Sunday-school?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; when I was a little thing I used to go sometimes. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>There is a Mission-school, you know, just round the corner, -where me and the others went.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And why did you leave?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, we didn’t like the teacher for one thing; and, for -another, it was hot and close; and I like to walk about the -streets much better. I wish I hadn’t left, though, now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You can go back again; I am sure they would be glad to -see you. Why do you wish you had not left?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Because, perhaps, if I had stayed I should have known -more. I want to know things. I know nothing. I could not -even understand what the Salvation man said.” She paused -a moment, and then her eyes suddenly flashed into the grave, -kind face before her, and she said impetuously, “Oh, do tell -me if it is all real—religion, I mean, and God, and Jesus Christ, -and heaven, and all that they talk so much about!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, Fanny! It is quite real. I am more sure of that -than ever.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then please will you tell me all about it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The lady thus appealed to had surprised herself by the -dogmatic manner in which she had asserted the reality of -the Christian faith. The truth was that she had often -doubted, and sometimes been inclined to believe nothing; yet -now that a soul looked to her for light all the doubts seemed -strangely to vanish, and all the old lessons came back to her, -as she told the story of the Christ, and His beautiful life, and -the great kingdom which He came to set up. It was longer than -a sermon, but Fanny listened, with her eyes on the face that -kindled with joyous earnestness, and it never occurred to her -to yawn or feel tired.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I am sure,” she said at last, “that if only we do what -He wants us to do, and are not selfish and wicked, but are -true and kind, that is the best way to be happy. And He -will show us all the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then a warm impulse moved her, and she put her -arm suddenly around Fan’s waist and drew her to her knees, -and spoke softly to the Father in heaven for both of them, -and asked the living, loving Saviour to reveal His grace to -the girl by her side. It was done in the most natural manner, -and only occupied one or two minutes; but when they arose, -Fan was secured as a loyal disciple for ever.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I will never forget it,” she said, through her tears. -“I love you; I know you are a lady, and not used to this sort -of thing, and only come to do us good; and it was my fault -that you were set on that time; but you don’t know how I will -love you!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And you will really be my friend, Fanny, and help me? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>Ah, then we will make our Grove more like Paradise than it -has ever been before! Do you think you could persuade -the boys of the Grove to come and spend their evenings with -me, and will you help me entertain them, and see that they -have a real good time? I want to get them out of the streets, -and teach them how to enjoy better things than pitch-and-toss, -and swearing and cheating. But, of course, they will not -come if my evenings are dull. I mean them to be very lively; -and as you know what sort of things they like, your aid will -be invaluable.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I will come with pleasure. I know all the boys in the -court, and believe I could persuade them, one and all, to spend -their evenings with us; that is, if we make it worth their -while. I won’t quite exactly promise every evening until I -have talked it over with my mother. I didn’t use to think so -much of my mother as I do now; but I’ve thought a deal -about her lately, and I’m going to make things better for -mother. There ain’t no sense in trying to do other people -good, and neglecting your own mother, is there?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>What made the Basket Woman blush and look conscience-smitten -and uncomfortable? She did not speak for a moment -or two, and then, in a faltering voice, she said: “You are quite -right, Fanny; ask your mother, and I will ask mine.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XI.<br> <span class='large'>OUR PARISH.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The harvest was over, and it had been a good one. The -usual festivities were held, and were more really joyous -than such occasions frequently are. Already in many parts -of the country the true leaders of the people were looking -forward to the winter, not only in preparation, but with -resolution, and were manfully determined that, if they could -not prevent the usual sin, they would prevent some of the -attendant misery of the days of cold and gloom. Arthur -Knight was doing the work of two or three men. His brain -was busy in regard to his own people; but whenever and -wherever it was possible he was preaching his Gospel of -Christian unity for the world’s good. By the seaside, in the -mission hall, in drawing-rooms, in chapels by the dozen he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>was entreating, in words made eloquent by feeling, that the -Church would no longer mourn over the evils of the world, -but would set itself by one great united effort to remedy -them. And, happily, Knight was only one; there were a -dozen other men saying and writing the same thing.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And it was little Darentdale that led the way. By the aid -of quiet visits and persuasive talk a number of persons had -been led to acquiesce in the plan of making this special -harvest festival the occasion for a new start, which made -almost every heart in the village glad, for most working men -and women had the surprise of a rise of wages—“for no -earthly reason,” the people said, but for a very heavenly -reason, as all knew who were in the secret. This was what -everybody could appreciate, and did. The additional money -was no great sum; in many cases it was only a shilling a -week, and with it was expressed, as delicately as possible, a -hope that it would not find its way into the publican’s hands; -nor did it, for the event made the men desire their families -to share it. The beauty of the increase lay in the fact that it -had been voluntarily and freely given, without any threat of -a strike, and even without the asking. That was the wonder -of it!</p> - -<p class='c011'>Nor was this all. There were a few loafers in the parish, -and every one of these received on the same day an offer of -regular work at good wages. There were several who had -lost their characters, and each of these had another chance -given him. The lads and girls who had left the Sunday-school -received an invitation to tea at some ladies’ or gentlemen’s -home the next Sunday. Work was found for all who -could work, and even for poor old people who could do very -little, so that they might still feel themselves independent, -and not fear the workhouse. In connection with each of the -churches a room was to be fitted up for the purpose of “a -girls’ parlour,” or a “boys’ reading-room.” An invitation to -an “At Home,” with music and coffee, was signed by Margaret -and Tom, and sent to every man who was known to -frequent the public-house; while those who were steady, and -especially those of the people who were members of Christian -churches, were urged to “Come themselves and bring their -mates with them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So Darentdale led the way. It was all arranged quietly -and without ostentation, and this is what was accomplished—there -was no poor person in the parish to whom no friendship -and help was offered. It was the gladdest day the place -had ever known; for there is no joy so great as that of -“offering willingly” that which we have to men for Christ’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>sake. “It <em>is</em> more blessed to give than to receive.” -“There <em>is</em> that scattereth and yet increaseth.” There was no -man who took the extra money (which was not given as a -favour, but yielded as if it were a right—as, indeed, in most -cases it was) who did not resolve that he would put in a -better week’s work for the better week’s wage; but it was no -shrewd anticipation of this which gave to such men as -Whitwell, Dallington, and others the exuberance of that -never-to-be-forgotten-day. It would mean more work and -self-denial for themselves, they knew; but they faced most -joyously all that was involved in the effort which they were -making.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course there were a few people who shut themselves out -of the feast, and sneered at the music and dancing, all the -more angrily because they knew that they were not sharers -in some strange joy which they could not understand. Mrs. -Hunter and her stepson were among the number. William -smoked more cigars in that one day than he had ever consumed -in the same space of time before, for his nerves needed -soothing.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is more than a sane fellow can comprehend—madness, -I call it,” he said, between the whiffs; “throwing money away -on the lower orders. I told John so this morning; and what -do you think he said?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot tell, indeed; something about universal brotherhood -or other nonsense of the same kind,” said John’s -mother.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He said there were no lower orders!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Indeed?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; he said there must always be masters and men—persons -who represented property and persons who represented -labour: those who worked with the head and those -who worked with the hands; but no Christian man had a -right to selfishly keep his riches to himself; and that in this -country, with all the money that is going, no one ought to -know the meaning of the word ‘poverty’; and that it was -adding insult to injury to speak of lower orders.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And what did you say?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“‘Bosh!’ and he said ‘Perhaps,’ and then I said ‘Rot!’ -and he laughed. And I told him he was going dead against -the Bible, and casting pearls before swine; and that, instead -of thanking him, they would turn again and rend him. And -he said he was not doing it in the hope of getting thanks, and -was paid as he went on, whatever that might mean; and I -called him a fool.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You did?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>“Yes, I did; but I thought it better not to let him hear me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He will bring ruin upon us all with these stupid, new-fangled -notions.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He says they are not new-fangled, but as old as the Gospel -and the Sermon on the Mount.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot understand it. Somebody has got hold of him. -I suppose Margaret Miller and Arthur Knight have between -them turned his brain.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A set of hypocrites, pretending to be so much better than -their neighbours! I have no patience with them. But it -won’t last.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; it won’t last.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were four or five other houses in Darentdale where -those who stood aloof from the new movement tried to comfort -themselves also, as well as they could, by declaring that -it would not last, and no good would come of it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell had a royal time, -assisted by the other young ladies of the village. “Margaret, -can you find out what they do at ‘the public,’” asked Tom, -“because I am going to compete with the publican for the -favour of the men of our parish?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is, first of all, the drink.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; but my sisters are clever in the matter of eating and -drinking. They have coached me up in a few facts, the most -important of which is that the way to a man’s soul, as well as -his heart, lies through his stomach. We have acted accordingly, -and I really think that our viands are appetising -enough to insure any man’s reform.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And the men like to be amused, you know; they cannot -get on without that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, Margaret, you must sing your sweetest, and I will -talk to them. They liked to be talked to, don’t they? -especially about politics.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Most of all, I think a man likes to spend his evenings in -an armchair in a warm, well-lighted room, with a pipe in his -mouth, something to drink at his elbow, and a newspaper in -his hand.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If they could but do without the pipe! But I suppose -that would be too great a sacrifice. And it is no use to try -to ‘wind them up too high for mortal man beneath the sky’; -we must take them as they are. Old Benham once said to -me, ‘I ham as I ham, and I can’t be no hammer!’ There is a -profound truth in that remark, don’t you think so, Margaret? -But I am glad we have made up our minds to do something -for our brothers and sisters. The inequalities of life have -often made me bitter.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>“And how must poor women have felt who have struggled -to bring up respectably a family of children on the money -that it has cost us for dress!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The “At Home” was a great success. Two better persons -to manage it could not have been found than Margaret and -Tom. They had the rare gift of always being natural. -Many a philanthropic endeavour fails because the ladies -and gentlemen, though striving to do their best, and longing -to be useful, cannot feel perfectly at home among the poor, -and make them feel the same. The latter often mistake the -stiffness, which is more the result of nervousness than anything -else, for patronage and condescension, and they are -very quick to resent anything of that kind. It was greatly -because Margaret and Tom were already respected and -beloved that their invitation was so almost universally -accepted. They had some fun, both with the men and the -women.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Christmas comes early this year, Miss Tom, don’t it?” -one asked, with a wink at the men who sat opposite to -him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Does it, Nelson? I think it is about the same time as -usual. My almanack declares it to be on the 25th of December, -as it was last year, if you remember rightly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! I thought tea-fights and such things only comed at -Christmas. What’s all this mean, miss? Are religious people -more religious than usual, or what?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It only means that they are more friendly than usual.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They want to get us, don’t they?” The man’s eyes were -twinkling; but Tom answered quite seriously, “Yes, Nelson, -they want very much indeed to get you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And they are willing to bid for us in tea-fights, and -coffee, and even fires and newspapers?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and anything else that they can think of.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! that’s just what I says to my mate. I says, ‘It’s -like the ’lections used to be.’ I’ve had many a glass of -whisky for a vote; and I ain’t much of a hand at politics, so I -voted honest for the man as treated me most liberal; and so -I will now. I ain’t much of a hand at sermons and prayers -neither, but I wouldn’t mind obliging either church or chapel -for once in a way, if they’re after bidding for us; but, of -course, Miss Tom, I values myself at the highest price, as is -only natural.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Quite natural, Nelson. But you are mistaken this time. -The churches and chapels are not bidding against each other; -the people who”—Tom hesitated—“who are good, you know, -are joining together to try and make things a little better and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>more happy for those who are not as well off as themselves. -That is all it means.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And ain’t we agoing to be persuaded to go neither to -church nor to chapel?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; though we should all be glad if you went somewhere—we -don’t care where. You would have a welcome in either -case, of course.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, that beats all!” said Nelson. “And is this ’ere -room to be lighted up comfortably every night for us?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, it is; and we shall be glad if you will all come every -night and enjoy it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What’s this stuff I’m a-drinking, Miss Tom?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Beer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What sort o’ beer?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very nice beer, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, it’s A 1, and I’ve had four glasses; but it ain’t reg’lar -beer, cause, however much you drinks, you don’t get any forrader -with it. It won’t make you drunk, will it, now?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You surely do not want it to make you drunk, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well—no—not as I knows on,” said Nelson, slowly; and -the men around him laughed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I used to go to church when I were a boy,” said another -man, Benham; “but if I go anywhere now, I goes to the -Methodists when they has the open-air service. It don’t -agree with my health to be shut up in a close church or -chapel.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose you find a bar-room better ventilated?” said -Tom; and this time the laugh was against Benham.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I used to go to church when I were a boy,” echoed another -man. “My father were one of the singers, and he left all -through a quarrel about a anthem. He wanted ‘All people -that on earth do dwell’; but another man wanted ‘I will -arise’; my father wouldn’t give way, nor the other man -neither. Father says, ‘It shall be “All people that on earth -do dwell,”’ and the t’other says, ‘Cuss “All people that on -earth do dwell”’; and my father put on his hat, and walked -out of the church forthwith, and he never entered it again till -he were carried there; and that is the truth, and I do not -deceive you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The last words were spoken so solemnly that Tom had to -beat a retreat. But the evening passed pleasantly enough, -and Margaret’s singing was greatly appreciated.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next night the attendance was less, for some of the -men spent the evening at the public-houses, talking the -matter over; but our friends were not discouraged. They -resolved to keep on—and wait. They were trying to feel their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>way, and by a wise judiciousness overcome the suspicion and -opposition which they would probably encounter.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But from that seed-sowing harvest day could be dated a -most beneficent change in Darentdale. The homes of the -people put on a more comfortable appearance, and the spiritless -women, feeling that something was expected of them in -return for the sympathy and help which they received, began -to be more sprightly, and to take some pride in making their -rooms not only clean but pretty. By the end of the year but -few had grown weary in well-doing, and in many hearts that -had been hopeless before new hopes were springing up.</p> - -<p class='c011'>No one more approved this effort for the people than Mr. -Harris. He contributed nothing to the cakes and tea, but he -had done a kindness on his own account that was very acceptable, -for he had presented every poor person with an armchair! -And this he did as a sort of thank-offering for the -pleasure it was to him to know that a good man cared for his -Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But a few days after the harvest festival Margaret’s mind -was considerably disturbed by an anonymous letter. It ran -thus:—“A friend sends you this word of warning. Why do -you try to tempt a gentleman from his duty and fealty to -another? Already you and yours have wrongful possession -of a house and money that by right belong to him. Will you -rob him also of his good name, and cast a blight over his -life? If you care for him you will not do this; unless, -indeed, you are false and fast. Two hearts will break if he -be drawn into your meshes; for who and what are you, and -<em>who were your parents?</em> Has he come back to his native land -to be beguiled by one who will but try to drag him down to -her own level? His friends are determined to prevent this -sacrifice; so you will but cause him and them the more trouble -by your guile. A stigma attaches to you, which God forbid -that he should share.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>To the last sentence Margaret breathed a fervent Amen. -But it will be readily imagined that this letter caused her a -very bad half-hour. Had she really an enemy—she who was -used to seeing nothing but kindness in every face? And, if -so, what was the enemy’s name? She could not tell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the pain had a greater sting in it when the thought -suggested itself that perhaps this letter was not the work of -an enemy, but of a friend. For, after all, there was some truth -in it. Who and what was she, and who were her people? -She really could not answer the question, for she did not -know. And that was the reason why she had hesitated to -accept John Dallington.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>“The time has surely come for me to know,” she said. “I -have had vague fears, but they must be either dispelled or -confirmed now. It is not fair to me or any one else that I -should be left in any uncertainty.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris had a cosy little room opening out of the shop, -and here he usually sat during eight hours of every day in -case a customer should come and require books, papers, or -stationery. “I am for the eight-hour movement,” he used to -say, with a significant smile at Margaret. “Eight hours are -long enough for any man to work.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And she always agreed with him. “Especially when it is -such arduous work as yours, Graf, requiring such close -attention to detail, so exhausting for the brain and the arms, -as indeed all work is in these days of fierce competition. How -much did you take over the counter yesterday—fourpence -halfpenny?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, I had a good day! I sold a copy of Browning’s -poems, and the purchaser appeared much pleased with it.” -The purchaser in almost every case would be himself, for few -Darentdalers bought books or read them, and those who did -sent to London or ordered them through a bookseller in -Scourby. But Margaret and her grandfather had much quiet -fun over the shop, and were decidedly its best customers.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret loved the old man, and was as tender as a -daughter could be toward him; and how much he cared for -her all the years of her life had told. It was, nevertheless, -difficult for her to broach the subject that was uppermost in -her mind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Has there been a great rush of customers to-day, Graf?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, I have been quite busy enough for the greater part -of the day. Newspapers have sold well; they are very interesting, -for Parliament was last night discussing the question -of adopting that new gun—a noiseless, smokeless weapon -which can kill at the distance of a mile and fire three -hundred shots in succession. Other nations are adopting it, -and Christian England must not be behind. One good thing -about it is that any number of armies could be annihilated -in a day; so if the battles are fierce they will not be long.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dreadful! Surely they will never fight again now that -killing is so easy and so certain?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t know; I hope not. I think not, if England would -lead the way, as she ought, and would be always for peace.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am feeling very warlike this evening, Graf.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are you, Margaret? You are young to suffer from -nervous irritability. Do you feel as if you want to bang -something?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>“Yes, I do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Go up the house and down the house and bang all the -doors. No? You want something human? I am quite at -your service, my dear—bang me! I am substantial enough -for anything.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Graf, you are generally young and frivolous when I want -you to be staid and serious. Something has happened to me, -and I need help and advice.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really and truly, my child?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; very really and truly, indeed. I have had an anonymous -letter.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t read it, Margaret. I have had many such in my -time, denouncing me as a sceptic and an atheist, and consigning -me to the lowest regions. They don’t hurt you much -when you are used to them. Put your letter in the fire -unread, and forget all about it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I have read it, grandfather; I could not help that, and -I want you to read it, too.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think it would be better not.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Please, because I wish it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The old man read it through twice, and then looked at -Margaret, with a curious smile. “You need not mind this in -the least,” he said. “I suppose you know who wrote it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have not the slightest idea.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No? It was Mrs. Hunter, John Dallington’s mother.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mrs. Hunter! Oh! surely not? What can make you -think that?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not think it; I am sure of it. There has been an -attempt to disguise the writing, but it is certainly Mrs. -Hunter’s. Now, my dear, never tell any one that you have -had it as long as you live. Burn it, and forget all about it. -That is the only thing to do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Graf, you must be mistaken; it could not be Mrs. -Hunter.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well, my dear. Settle it so, and welcome. But I -do not believe there is any one else in Darentdale who would -have done it, unless her stepson did it, and I am sure he did -not. Never mind who wrote it, Margaret, nor what is in it. -Somebody is afraid that Dallington has fallen in love with -you. It is a proof of his great good sense and intelligence -that the suspicion is correct.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Grandfather,” said Margaret, in grave tones and with -trembling lips, “you have seen what this letter says. Please -tell me, who am I?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris began to look troubled, but he answered, “You -are Margaret Miller. I can tell you no more than that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>“Oh, but you must!” said the girl, pleadingly. “It is not -kind to me; it is not right to withhold anything from me -that touches me so closely.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, I can tell you one fact. You are fit to mate -with John Dallington or any other man. Your parents were -good people, and occupied a high position. They were married -in Spain, and I was present at their wedding.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Which of them was your child, grandfather?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Harris hesitated, but Margaret was urgent.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The time has surely come for you to be open with me,” -she said. “Dear old Graf, I cannot bear to trouble you; I -hate myself for doing it. If you think I ought not to ask -you, I will try to be silent; but it is hard to have a stigma -resting upon me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Child,” he said, angrily, “there is no stigma of any kind -attaching to you! Have I not told you so already?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Graf, do not be angry with me. Which of my parents -was your child?” Margaret repeated.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Neither,” said Harris, and he looked white and pained; -“but if you had been my own child I could not have cared -more for you, and you could not have given me more joy -through all these years. Your parents both died of cholera -in Spain—one two days after the other. There were perils -that beset their only child; and from these you were rescued -by Mr. Dallington, who was under an obligation to your -father, and who, in order to pay it, adopted you; and whose -will provided for you by leaving this house and all that is in -it to you after me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And is my name Margaret Miller, really?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, that is your name.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But there is a secret somewhere?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is; but the secret belongs to the dead. No person -living is affected by it; and it will die with me, for I swore -not to reveal it; nor will I, neither at the bidding of hate, -nor of love. You know enough, Margaret. Be content.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret bowed her head. “Thank you for telling me so -much,” she said; “and for the years of love and kindness -which have made my life so happy that I have scarcely -missed my father and mother.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have but done my duty and kept my promise. And you -see that you owe me nothing, Margaret, not even the obedience -and love of a granddaughter.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dear Graf, I owe you everything—all the gratitude, -goodwill, and affection of which I am capable. And I will -never forget it. We will be just as happy together now as -we have always been, and forget the anonymous letter. I am -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>sure that there is not a grain of truth in the insinuation that -we are enjoying money that ought to belong to others.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You know quite well, Margaret, that a man has a right to -leave his property to whomsoever he pleases. Mr. Dallington -was an eccentric man; but he was only right and just when -he took care that you should want for nothing. It was his -duty to do this—mark what I am saying, Margaret—<em>his duty</em>. -He would have been culpable if he had not done it. But he -did it in a curious, unusual way. Some day I will tell you -where you will find, on these premises, enough hard cash to -maintain you in the comfort you have been used to, and, at -the rate at which it is spent now, until you are eighty years -old. Now, Madge, my child, you know all that I can tell you; -and it is nobody’s business but ours. I want to talk to you -on another subject. We have all our troubles, my dear”—the -old man sighed as he said it—“and they are not very big -ones either, for they give us more worry than pain. But a -very little worry is large enough to spoil a life if we will let -it. You will not let this thing overshadow your life—if I -know you, I am sure you will not—for you are a believer in -the Christ——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And so are you, Graf,” interpolated Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And it seems plain to me, though, as everybody knows, I -am a sceptic and an unbeliever, that He meant all His -followers to live the same kind of life as He lived. Therefore, -my child, you will put yourself on one side in this -matter. Such petty things as anonymous letters are beneath -you now; you must be invulnerable to the little stings which -would force your thoughts upon yourself. Be a large-minded, -large-hearted Christian, or none at all, Margaret. -Christianity is not a creed; it is a life. Don’t you think so?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do, indeed, thanks to your teaching.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no! I am a very irreligious person; but I do not -want you to be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret was right in saying that she owed everything to -this old man, whom so many denounced. “He is perishing -in his sins,” a man had said of him once, because, when he -had been invited to a special service, he had replied with a -laugh that he would rather have one to himself by the river. -But Margaret, whom none ever heard say an unkind thing -of another, whose very presence raised the tone of a garden -party, who was the champion of the absent, whose loving -nature made itself felt everywhere, had formed her opinions -and habits after those of her guardian, and was much the -better for it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Graf,” said Margaret, “a young woman has no right to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>come between a mother and a son, has she? If Mrs. Hunter -regards me in this way I am sure Mr. Dallington must be -unhappy about it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I advise you not to mention this letter to him. He gave -me to understand that he was not in a position to marry immediately; -and while you are waiting things may right themselves. -In any case, he is of age, and has a right to choose -his own wife. I am glad he has chosen my child. He took -me by surprise, though, because I thought he would marry -Miss Tom Whitwell—for I have fancied many times since his -return that she cared for him. But everything is as it should -be. Hear what Browning says, ‘God’s in His heaven, all’s -right with the world.’”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the talk and the letter caused Margaret a sleepless -night, though it was not so much the letter as the suggestion -about her friend, Tom Whitwell. Can it be true? she asked -herself many times; and she was half afraid it was, now that -she thought things through. But she did not keep the trouble -to herself; and her cry, “Show me the right, and give me -strength to do it!” was certain of an answer.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XII.<br> <span class='large'>A NEW ORDER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Margaret Miller and Tom Whitwell read together -an account of some meetings at which Arthur Knight -had been speaking, and they confided to each other their own -ideas on the subject. As the reader knows, each had her own -reason for anxiety and trouble; but each felt that this was a -time for laying all personal affairs and feelings on one side, -and doing her part in the New Crusade which was being -fought.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We ought to do so, Margaret,” said Tom, “because I -believe that for the existing state of things women must bear -much of the blame. We have left off sending our knights to -battle for God and the right, and we encourage them instead -to take to money-grubbing in the city.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A good deal of heroism of a certain kind is practised, -though, even thus,” replied Margaret. “Many a man who -raises himself from a lowly position to a lofty one does it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>much more for the sake of his wife and children than for his -own.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! And dies on the field, content to have won a -carriage for his widow, and funds for the gambling purposes -of his sons. What astonishes me is that women can accept -such heroic sacrifices for such small ends. But I am afraid -that we are all becoming about as mean as mice; at least, if -we are to be measured by the topics of our talk at afternoon -tea.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! but we are not. We are so foolishly and wickedly -afraid of revealing our best to one another that we pretend -to be as frivolous and heartless as we possibly can. It is a -great fraud, and some of us have eyes keen enough to see -through it. I always find it difficult to keep from laughing -when you, Tom, make believe to be interested in the edifying -tales that are told about your neighbours.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is abominable, Margaret, and I hate it. Fine companions -for true men are we, if we are to be judged by our -own representations of ourselves! And we might do so much; -for we really have a good deal of power over men.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret smiled significantly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“‘Ah! wasteful woman,’” she quoted. “And yet, you -know, there is nothing a woman really cares so much about -as the good opinion of her male friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, I know it is the men’s fault in the first place; but we -are to be their helpers, not their slaves.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will tell you where I think our help might come in. -You remember when we were in London last we saw quite a -crowd of girls coming out of a low-looking public-house, some -of them half-tipsy?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should think I do remember it. Who that had once -seen such a sight could ever forget it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But the girls would never have gone in of themselves. It -was because of the young men who were there. The girls -would be easily dealt with if once they could understand that -that sort of thing disgusts men.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! but it doesn’t.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not quite sure of that. I believe it does—for every -man has a better and a worse self, and everything depends -upon which part of the man’s nature is influenced by the -woman whom he loves.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>At this point of the conversation Tom asked a very peculiar -and personal question, which brought the colour to her friend’s -face.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, have you any money?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have a little, enough for my needs.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>“What I have been wondering is whether you and I -together could spare some for the rent of a drawing-room in -London near that particular public-house, where we could try -our Darentdale plan with those creatures who are neither -boys nor men. People say that almost any lad, even the -roughest, will treat a gentlewoman with courtesy. We could -invite them, before they go into that place, to come into ours, -and there you might talk to them in your own way, and -perhaps I in mine. We might give two evenings in a week. -Our people would not mind if we were together, and we could -get home easily, though a little late, for the trains are so -good. If we can only succeed in a small way it is worth while -to try.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Tom, how brave you are! Something of the kind has -been floating in my own mind, but I should never have had -the courage to try without you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>When the true history of the world comes to be written it -will be seen how much in this remarkably formative period in -England was commenced in just such a simple manner as this -talk between our two friends.</p> - -<p class='c015'>It was on a cold, drizzling night, when the London streets -were as uncomfortable as only London streets can be, that two -well-dressed young ladies went up to a group of boys, all somewhere -in their teens, and invited them to come in and have a -cup of hot coffee and some buttered toast. The fair, smiling -faces of the girls and their friendly and gracious manners -forced the boys to courtesy, and eight of them—about half -the number—consented. They looked at their dirty hands -and boots when they were taken into the drawing-room with -comical seriousness.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, never mind!” said Tom. “Look at my boots; you -cannot keep clean on such a night as this. Have the coffee -while it is hot. And here are some potted beef sandwiches. -Perhaps you have not yet had your teas?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The boys laughed. “We have had our teas,” said one. “A -hextra meal don’t make no difference to the likes of us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And so, indeed, it seemed; for the coffee and eatables -disappeared in almost no time.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The boys were not as much surprised as boys would have -been twenty years before, at the invitation.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They are trying another dodge on us, that’s all,” whispered -one to his mates; but they looked with a little curiosity when -the plates and cups had been collected; and when, for a -moment or two, the ladies had left the room, a brisk bit of -betting went on.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>“Ten to one on Music!” “Thirteen to one on Sign the -Pledge!” “Twenty to one agin Gambling—look out!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We cannot tell how glad we are to see you,” said Tom, -rather nervously, as she took her seat. “You can spare time -to stop a little while, cannot you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That depends,” said one. “I’ve got a pressing engagement—very -pressing, indeed; but I’m always ready to oblige -a lady, specially such a stunner as you, miss.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you; much obliged for the compliment. Well, we -are going to tell you a story. You like tales, don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; but not true ones, mind.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well. Miss Miller will tell the first and I the -second.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>No one guessed the trouble to which the narrators had -gone to prepare these stories, nor the numbers of dreadful -boys’ books through which they had waded in order to -get some idea of the style which would be acceptable. -Some hair-breadth escapes there were, and a few things -to laugh at, especially in Margaret’s, which she told so -effectively that her audience was spell-bound. It was the -story of a poor boy, dreadfully tried and tempted, who, by -his self-control, and because, though he sometimes did the -wrong, he loved the right, made his way in the world, and -won the gratitude and respect of all who knew him. It was a -good story, well told, and the boys applauded it vigorously.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is a story of up, up, up,” said one.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is,” replied Tom. “That is a clever title for it, and -mine is a story of down, down, down!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course, the fellow was a religious cove.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly; he would not have done as he did if he had not -had <em>Some One</em> to help him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, but we ain’t religious—not much!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No? Ah! that accounts for some things,” said Tom, -glancing at the rags and the dirt and the unkempt hair -of the speaker—a glance so eloquent that every one understood -it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now let’s have yourn, miss; my engagements is a-pressing -me like anythink.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom was not herself prepared for the effect upon the boys -which her recital had, and Margaret listened in amazement. -She made the boy in the story live before her listeners, so -that they seemed to know him, and were entirely in sympathy -with him. They knew all about his uncomfortable home, and -his tobacco money, and his bets. He was a nice fellow, too, -and good-natured to his “pals” at first; but just because he -was selfish and weak, and could not say No at the right time, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>and because he never called upon God except to blaspheme -Him, and because he wouldn’t be a teetotaller, and was so -altogether mistaken in his ideas about manliness and honour, -his end was full of misery. Tom’s eyes filled with tears, and -her voice trembled as she described the downward progress of -this boy and his death; and when she finished with a little -prayer, “O Lord! for Jesus Christ’s sake, save these boys -from all that!” she could not repress a sob, which awoke an -answer in the hearts of almost all the boys.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The boys were subdued as they went away, and two or -three, at least, resolved to make their lives from that night a -story of “Up, up, up.” Most of them came on the next -appointed evening, and brought others with them. Of course, -all meetings were not successes; nor did the boys invariably -continue to be interested. All workers have some disappointments, -and Margaret and Tom had many. The habits -already formed by the boys were not suddenly broken, nor -was the evil in them readily subdued. But the effort was -yet a remarkably prosperous one; and, though small in its -beginning, it was the commencement of a very great thing -indeed. It was not quite at first evangelistic, in the usual -sense of the word, but it soon became so in the largest and -fullest sense. Our friends would not easily forget the first -devotional ten minutes they spent with the boys, nor did -they.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They was the realest prayers I ever heered, and they -fairly knocked me down,” said one of the boys.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But we mustn’t have the ladies knocked down, and some -of the chaps, and the gals, too, are mad about this thing; so -we’ll conduct them to the station.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And when that evening was over Tom said, admiringly, -“What gentlemen they are!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>After a time they saw that the thing would be too big for -them to cope with alone. They needed some one older, who -resided in London, to help and advise them. And at this -juncture Tom remembered that she had heard her cousin -speak of a lady who would probably be interested in this -movement.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret,” she said, “My cousin John has told me of a -Miss Wentworth, whom he met on board-ship, who is very -kind and philanthropic. I will get a letter of introduction -from him, and we will call and see her to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>This was done, and the older worker welcomed the young -ones with great cordiality, and listened full of sympathy to -the tale they had to tell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The thought has been given to you by God,” she said. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>“All our hopes for the future are in the young, and especially -in the boys. I have myself thought how well it would pay for -Christian women to give up all other work, and devote themselves -to mothers and the children alone. My house is -entirely at your service; I shall consider it most honoured to -be used in any way for the promotion of this enterprise. As -for myself, I am an old woman, and cannot do much; but -anything and everything which I can do will be most gladly -done. Do not scruple to ask me for money, or service, or -room. If only for Mr. Dallington’s sake, I should like to -prove myself your friend.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The girls were fortunate in having found so able a helper, -and they promised that Miss Wentworth should at once be -taken into their complete confidence.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first result of this was that that lady invited by letter -all the gentlemen’s boys whom she knew, and Margaret and -Tom had a drawing-room meeting of a different kind. They -were boys such as Arnold would have loved and Thring -believed in—sons, for the most part, of Christian parents, -fine specimens of young England, the statesmen and merchants -and professional men of the future. And these boys, -full of fun and ready for mischief, but generous and manly, -hating lies and cowardice as only English boys can, became -the nucleus of a grand army destined to save the nation and -lift it into a glory such as it had never known before.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret’s gentle voice and beautiful face won their way -immediately to the boys’ hearts. She told the same story as -before, but in different words and with a different significance, -leaving them to see how they might help those who were -down to rise; and that their education and position put upon -them the responsibility of doing so. Next, in glowing terms -she reminded them of the old Crusaders, and the Knights of -Chivalry, and besought these modern boys of England to -enter upon the new crusade, and drive out from their native -land the drunkenness and gambling, the impurity and misery -which were crowding round its holy places. She reminded -them that <em>they</em> must bring about the great reformation; that -<em>they</em> must acknowledge Christ, and for His sake the brotherhood -of man; it would be <em>their</em> sin and shame if poor women -were still to work for starvation wages, and wretched men -lose their manliness because they had lost their hope. She -took it for granted, she said, that they were Christian boys, -and that they would be true to the faith of their fathers, -which faith was not simply a belief in Christ as a Saviour, -though it was that first of all, but an obedience to Christ as -a law-giver, and that the command to love one another, to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>care for the poor, to acknowledge the equality of man, to be -strictly fair and honourable, were simple everyday duties incumbent -upon all who bore the name of Christ. She spoke -of the waste of God-given power in war, and urged them in -glowing words to pledge themselves never to uphold those -who pressed a national quarrel to murder; and she asked -them, now in their youth, and afterwards in their manhood, -to suspend for a while even the strife of political parties -until the wrongs of the poor and the ignorant were righted; -and to accomplish a grand mastery of self that they might -become the masters of the world. And then she bade them -win the love and reverence of women by being such brave, -high-minded, clean-souled men as they dreamed all Englishmen -should be.</p> - -<p class='c011'>After this Tom told her story, showing at every step how -if the boy who went down into the lowest depths of degradation -had had a strong man—a gentleman—to help him, it -would have been different. “But the young gentlemen,” -said Tom, “were smoking and drinking, and so busy in -robbing themselves of their own strength and manhood that -they took no notice of the poor wretches who were dying by -their side, and <i><span lang="fr">Noblesse oblige</span></i> had no meaning for them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But it has for us,” said a boyish voice, its owner rising -in the middle of the room; and Margaret was delighted -as she looked at him; a tall, straight, good-looking boy with -his brown curls tossed back from his forehead, and his blue -eyes flashing with fearless determination. “Let me tell the -ladies who have spoken that there are hosts of us quite ready -to form a new army of Volunteer Crusaders. But we want -a little help and encouragement; we are so cowardly, afraid -and ashamed of appearing as good as we are. Could not -another word for good be invented? We would rather face a -lion than the stigma of being called goody-goody; but let -nobody on that account suppose that our hatred of wrong, -and our indignation against the wrong-doer, is any less hot -in us than in our fathers. We have been born with consciences, -and we have energy enough to battle with anything. -You fellows, what do you say? Shall we, here in London, -and to-night, form a regiment of Soldiers of Peace? I -believe the idea would be taken up all over England; for the -boys I know—most of them, at all events—do not want to -disgrace their names. If we could really believe that we are -called to be heroes there is that in us which would help us to -rise to the name. Yes, and let us wear a rosette of the red, -white, and blue of Old England, which no boy shall wear -except worthily; the blue for temperance, the white for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>purity, and the red for battle or endeavour. These colours -have won renown in the past; they shall win higher renown -still in the new days for our country, for—” and the young -voice rang out like a bugle call—“we swear to God that -we will do our part to make our nation exalted by its -righteousness.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The boys shouted “Hurrah!” they could not help it; they -were wonderfully moved by the short harangue of their comrade, -Ned Northcote, a favourite of all who knew him. And -Tom trembled with excitement as she put her hand on the -arm of her hostess.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We must take this holy enthusiasm at its flow,” she said. -“Miss Wentworth, will you let your house be the rallying -ground for this grand new army?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And the older woman replied with quivering lips, “Only -too gladly! Never before was the house so consecrated as it -is to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She might well say so; for at that moment a boy’s voice, -in simple boyish language, was vowing for himself and his -fellows, all of them standing, with bowed heads and swiftly-beating -hearts, that they would live for the kingdom of -Christ, and be the King’s soldiers.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Here is a book. I think we should have a roll-call,” said -Tom. “I am not a boy; I almost wish I were to-night: but -I shall belong to the regiment. It is late now; will you -enrol your names in your own handwriting, and come again -to-morrow?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The movement became known through the Press. There -were several flourishing weekly journals and one daily -devoted to the interests of women, the columns of which -were chiefly occupied with the fashions and tit-bits of news -about “Society People.” A letter was addressed to each of -these describing the meetings here referred to, and appealing -to the ladies of England to help, by drawing-room meetings -and any other means that should offer, in the formation of a -national army of Volunteer Boy Crusaders, pledged to the -extirpation of evil and the uplifting of the standard of -righteousness.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Most of the editors of these papers inserted the letters -(and those who did not wished afterward they had done so), -and the response to them was marvellous. The religious -papers, of course, most willingly gave their assistance, and so -it came about that in a comparatively short time after the -meeting in Miss Wentworth’s room thousands of meetings -were being held in connection with churches of all denominations -in all parts of the country; for the idea had everywhere -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>caught the imaginations and consciences of Christian women, -and <em>God wills it</em> was borne in upon them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then it became evident what a wonderful preparation -for this had been going on during the past years. All sorts -of societies were already in existence, ready to be amalgamated. -There was the “Society of Christian Endeavour,” -which numbered thousands of young people; and it was easy -and natural to show how their endeavour, which was, firstly, -for their own religious advancement, should be, secondly, -definitely on behalf of other boys and girls less favoured -than they. Then there was “The Boys’ Brigade,” which had -made fine, soldierly lads of some of the roughest street boys -of the large towns, but which was regarded with suspicion by -some who feared that the organisation might be used as a -recruiting agency for military purposes. But it was found -that these boys were as ready, and even eager, to take the -Pledge of Peace as the rest; and so well disciplined were -they, so used to obey the officers under whom already they -served, that they were invaluable in the new army of young -crusaders. The Bands of Hope, too, had their thousands -already engaged in negative work, but thirsting to become -aggressive, who signed the new pledge, “We will,” after the -old one, “We will not.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>As to the Sunday-school, it renewed its youth. “Why, -this is what we have been trying to do all along; this is our -work,” said the teachers; and they were right, for there could -have been no such abundant harvest ready for reaping but -for the patient tilling and sowing which had been accomplished -in the Sunday-school.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Where are the headquarters of this great movement?” -was a question frequently asked. And the answer seemed a -strange one: “In the houses of a few women.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is growing too much for us,” said Tom. But on the -day when she said it more than a dozen ladies asked to be -allowed to do the clerical work of the endeavour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What put it in your minds?” one asked, and a bright -girl replied with a smile, “You should put your question differently, -and ask, ‘Who put it into our minds?’”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But, after all, every district, town, and village had to provide -its own headquarters. Nor was this difficult; for that -had happened for which devout souls had agonised in prayer -for many a weary year, and at last the Church was awake.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And it found everything ready for the new work, which was -yet not new, but as old as Christianity. A conviction forced -itself into many minds, as it might be, simultaneously, that -no new organisation, but the old-established ones, were called -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>to make the Great Endeavour, and that they had all the -necessary power and means, and especially they had what -was of greater importance than all else put together—<em>they -had the boys</em>.</p> - -<p class='c011'>One town after another, and villages by dozens, gathered -the boys into the new organisation; and it was officered by -the finest men of the district.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“This must not be left to uneducated, unequipped men; -you and I must take it up, or prove ourselves traitors to our -consciences.” Such words as these were spoken at many a -club. And the recruiting sergeants were the boys themselves. -“Father, you must come; you are clever; the boys -would obey you; and you know how to govern. Don’t leave -us to any duffers who like to take us in hand. We want real -men to manage and direct us.” So pleaded the boys; and -real men responded.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And yet it was very much a woman’s movement. It was -always a lady’s hand who pinned the rosette of significance -upon the boy’s breast when he enlisted. The sweet tones of -women’s voices commended the young soldiers to God when -they went forth to fight the peace-battles. They were welcomed -once every week when they came for counsel and encouragement -by motherly hands and sisterly commendation. -Every boy knew that some good woman held him in her -heart and mentioned him in her prayers, and would be glad -or sorry according to whether he proved faithful or the -reverse. For at the very foundation of this movement was -the principle of woman’s influence. Every lady-member of -the Christian Church with which the Branch was connected -was expected to take the oversight of some of the boys—not -less than two nor more than twenty being the number decided -upon. And these women, who, as might have been expected, -entered very heartily into the scheme, had to help and inspire -the boys in their uphill endeavour; and especially set them -to work upon those other boys who, at present, were their -opponents. One or two of these ladies, whom we know, -brought the old history of the Knights Templars to bear on -these modern times. Nor could anything better for their -purpose be conceived than the oath taken by this order—“I -swear to consecrate my words, my arms, my strength, and -my life to the defence of the mysteries of faith and that of -the unity of God. I also promise to be submissive and -obedient to the Grand Master of the Order. Whenever it is -needful I will cross the seas to fight; I will give help against -all infidel kings and princes, and <em>in the presence of three -enemies I will not fly, but fight if they are infidels</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>It was not far from Arthur Knight’s factories that -Margaret and Tom commenced these operations. He had -not seen these ladies, but he heard of what they were doing -from Dallington and Miss Wentworth, and between him and -them his idea was in a fair way of being accomplished, for -almost every young person was surrounded by an atmosphere -of kindness and good influences. By every means he was -endeavouring to prepare his people, and especially the young -ones, for a better life under happier conditions in his Land of -Promise, which was being got ready for them. It was a great -satisfaction to him to find how much of the work which he -considered his was being done for him by others. He had -heard of the Basket Woman, and was curious about her. But -among the helpers doing Christian work for his people there -was one of whom he thought more frequently than of all the -others, and that was the young lady who had spoken with -such vehement condemnation of the wretched houses that -belonged to him. Only once since had he seen her, and it was -when, hearing that the woman whom she visited was dying, -he went to the house to see if he could render assistance. -But the young lady was before him. As he pushed open the -door he saw a sight which he would never forget. By the -side of the couch which had been provided the girl knelt in -prayer, and he heard her soft voice pleading, “Oh, take Thy -servant, who has so long borne the burden and heat of the -day, into Thy Paradise above, where they hunger no more, -neither thirst any more, where the Lamb who is in the midst -of the throne shall feed them, and lead them unto living -fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from -their eyes.” He closed the door softly, and passed the little -window of that room bareheaded and with a reverent heart. -And he understood, as never before, when he walked over the -dusty stones, through the close court, what such words must -be to the poor, and how natural it was that Christ should have -thought of them first. “To the poor the Gospel is preached,” -and those who receive it are thereby lifted out of the greatest -depths of their misery. A wave of compassion passed over -Arthur Knight, and the resolutions he had formed grew -stronger than ever within him. He passed the house again -(it was strange what an attraction it held for him), hoping -that he might meet the young lady; but, instead, he heard -her voice singing sweetly the well-known strains, “I know -that my Redeemer liveth.” He waited a moment or two, -and then, realising the impertinence of such conduct, he -walked slowly away, hoping, however, that an opportunity of -making the acquaintance of the singer might be granted him. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>Could she be “the Basket Woman,” of whom he heard so -much? Or were there two ladies who had taken his poor -people into their compassion, besides those who originated -the Young Crusaders’ movement? Among all his engagements -Arthur Knight found time to wonder about this -mystery, for he could not help being vividly interested. -“It is absurd,” he said to himself; “but I cannot get that -young lady who lectured me out of my thoughts. Surely I -am not going to fall in love. That is the last thing I ought -to do. But I must see her again, somehow.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII.<br> <span class='large'>THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Even in small towns events follow each other so rapidly -that one subject of gossip soon pushes another into the -background, and in Scourby Mary Wythburn would have -been forgotten, except by a few of her own personal friends, -but for the fact that her name had been coupled with -that of Dr. Stapleton in a suspicious report which did -him great damage in the opinion of his fellow-townsmen. -The doctor was a young medical man who -was rapidly making his way in the town, and had many -friends. He was especially good to the poor, and for several -years attended them free of charge at their own homes, and -he also held at his house a medical mission. Twice a week his -consulting-room was almost like a small “Pool of Bethesda,” -for the number of halt and maimed who came to it for advice -and medicine. He always made them pay for these by their -attendance at a ten minutes’ talk which preceded the regular -business on which they came. But the doctor did not usually -address these people on religious topics. His faith in the -power of Christ to redeem them was strong and unquestioning, -but he knew that in the streets, through the -efforts of the Salvation Army and other evangelists, they -were at their own doors continually hearing of the way of -salvation. It was rather a gospel of self-help that Dr. -Stapleton preached to them. He wanted them to love God, -but since they could not do that because they did not as yet -love their fellow-men, he sought to make them at least love -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>themselves, which they were a long way from doing. So -he discoursed to them, in rousing words, on cleanliness and -health, on language and character, on habits and opinions, -and especially on the delight and the dignity of work. There -were some strange ideas among these people in regard to this -last subject; they actually talked of themselves as the working-classes, -while many of them were as idle as they could be. -Public movement was in the direction of shortening the -hours of labour for men; and it was hoped, therefore, that -since many of them only worked eight hours, the professional -classes might presently rest when they had been engaged for -twelve, and that women would not be expected to work for -more than sixteen. But these women who were helped by -Dr. Stapleton, whose homes were dirty and wretched, and whose -persons were untidy, did very little real work at all; and he -knew that if they could be persuaded to love, instead of hate, -it, a vast difference would at once be made to their lives. So -he did what he could, and very sympathetically, since he -knew under what terrible conditions many of them lived, and -how hard it is to keep a very little home entirely clean and -tidy.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton one morning noticed that the people appeared -to be offended with him. This vexed and made him irritable, -and it must be confessed that he had not a good temper -at the best of times. Just now, indeed, he was overwhelmed -with troubles of which few people guessed, though some were -evident enough. For one thing, a Parliamentary election -was impending, and a section of the Scourby men had decided -to lead the way in a new departure. There was to be a grand -fight for principle. Every one said that, though exactly -what the principle was remained undefined, only one thing -seemed clear, that the fight would be between the classes -who had property and character and those who had neither. -For a change had come into the political world, although -both the Government and the Opposition were slow to see it. -For several years Christianity had been aggressive to an -extent not previously known. The churches had become -iconoclastic; they had shut up public-houses by the score; -they had put gamblers into prison; they had insisted that -brutal husbands and fathers should be flogged; they had -suspended races, and closed music-halls, and cleared the -streets of evil houses, and altogether rendered themselves -so obnoxious that through the land there were risings of the -dangerous classes, who were everywhere choosing men after -their own hearts to represent them in Parliament.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In Scourby this section of the people had chosen Mr. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>Richard Lavender. He was an open reviler of religion and -morality, but he was bold as well as bad; he was clever at -invective, and perfectly unscrupulous in his words and deeds, -and therefore he was a favourite with too many of the people. -They loved to hear him call names; they applauded his sneers -at religion and respectability; he was no “bloated aristocrat,” -he was an outcast, as many of them were, and they were going -to stand by him, and send him to Westminster to be a thorn -in the sides of the respectables.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He appealed to the worst passions of the people, and told -them that both the aristocracy and the middle classes were -tyrants and oppressors of the poor; and the curious thing -was that some of them seemed to believe him. He roused -their antagonism by reminding them of the Bills that had -been passed—that now a man could not claim his wife’s -wages, or enjoy them unless she chose to give him them; -that he could not send his children out to work, and, indeed, -a man could no longer do what he liked with his own; -besides which he did not find a public-house in every street, -and often had a ten minutes’ walk before he could get his -drink. The liberty of the subject was in danger, and a stop -must be put to this sort of thing.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Lavender was one of three men who aspired to the -vacant seat. There was, of course, to be the usual fight -between the Conservatives and the Radicals. But the candidates -representing the two great parties were strangers, and -had been selected and sent down by the wire-pullers in -London, while Lavender was well known, and hail-fellow-well-met -to many of the people in Scourby. This gave him a -great advantage over Mr. Smith, the Conservative, and Mr. -Jones, the Liberal. On the evening of the day in question -there was to be a meeting of the supporters of the latter, and -those who were interested looked forward to it with some misgiving. -Lavender gloried in mob-law; and although there was -no society in the town that would have anything to do with him, -not the socialists, nor trades-unionists, nor any distinct organisation -of the people, it was yet known that he could count -upon a considerable following.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Many people feared that Lavender would be returned, and -among them was Dr. Stapleton.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the midst of his ill-humour Miss Whitwell called to -consult him about one or two poor patients to whom he had -been kind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am looking after some of Miss Wythburn’s pet women,” -she said. “I am so bad-tempered this morning, that I thought -I would go to them as a sort of diversion; and I feel more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>wretched than ever now. I think there must be a happy -hereafter for the very poor, they are so joyless here.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But they do not wish to leave the world. Every patient -wants to get well.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I could take you to a woman who is praying to die, but I -may not. There are plenty of them, though. Is not this a -wretched world?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not think so, neither do you, Miss Whitwell.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, I do! Why, everything is wrong. And men who -have power and strength and ability are droning away their -lives doing nothing—absolutely nothing. Why do you not -lift up your voice against the cruelty that is practised in this -town?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I haven’t a very strong voice. It would not make much -noise if I lifted it up all day.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dr. Stapleton, you are brutal!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I beg your pardon, Miss Whitwell. What do you want me -to do? I am sure the world is better than it ever was before.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad I did not live in it before, then. Things seem -to me dreadfully bad now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“All great growths are slow. But I believe that the right -is winning its way more rapidly than slowly, and in the long -run it is sure to conquer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom Whitwell laughed. “You are repeating your creed, -doctor. It is very proper of you; but you don’t believe it -this morning, do you now? One of your patients is ill -because she has had to stand twelve hours a day selling -flowers and ribbons over a draper’s counter. Another is ill -because a drunken husband brutally assaulted her; another -because her landlord did not keep his house in proper repair, -and the stairs gave way under her. A little child is dying -because he has never been properly fed; another because he -has been poisoned by foul drains; and yet another because -some men treated him to several drinks of gin. And we are -sending to represent us in the House of Commons Mr. Richard -Lavender.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton passed his hand across his brow wearily. -“Did you say you had a case on which you wished to consult -me?” he asked. “Where is this woman who will not see a -doctor?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“In Sloane-street, No. 40. But it is of no use for you to -go to her, for she will not see you. Cannot you prescribe for -her without?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly not. Can you describe her symptoms?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; only she is in great pain, and seems feverish, and -has no appetite, and cannot sleep.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>“Not uncommon symptoms these. Most patients have -them. Is she poor?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very, and in dreadful trouble about Mary Wythburn, -who was always good to her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have a little money to give away. I will call with it, -and perhaps I shall find some way of helping her. Excuse -me if I advise you to return. The town will be neither -pleasant nor safe later. What is this woman’s name?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Robinson. She says a doctor’s mistake made her a -widow, and that she never knew one yet who properly understood -his business. Good-bye, Dr. Stapleton.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom’s smile was full of pleasant mischief, but it soon -vanished. “Poor fellow, I am really afraid he did care for -Mary,” she said. “Certainly something is the matter with -him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next moment she met her cousin. “Tom,” she<a id='t121'></a> said, -“Scourby will be no place for you to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is what Dr. Stapleton has been telling me, and I am -obediently making my way home already.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you asked Stapleton to prescribe for you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; why should I? I am perfectly well. He ought to -prescribe for himself, he is looking miserably ill. Are you -going to the meeting? I wish you would call for him and -take him with you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A few hours later Dallington and the doctor were making -their way to the hall. The people were thronging the streets -and shouting “Lavender and Liberty for ever!” Every -election cry has the word liberty in it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Where do all these people come from?” asked Dallington. -“I did not think there were so many of this sort in -the town.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They do not often show themselves, but these are the -people we have to reckon with. They have been left too -much to themselves, and only tolerated for the use we can -make of them. They will turn upon us some day and pay off -old scores.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should not wonder if they do. Take care! Here is an -ugly rush! Can we get out of it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Before the words had left his lips the crowd was on the -two men. The doctor was well known as a friend of the -poor, and he thought that he was rather liked by the women, -who had been often helped through their troubles by him. -But there were a good many women in the crowd, and there -was no mistaking their hostile intentions towards him. He -was severely hustled, and when he turned and faced them -he looked into countenances full of malice. His hat was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>knocked off, his coat was torn, and, as he was only one man -against two hundred, he was not at all sure that his life was -not in danger. He had got separated from his friend, and -was wondering if he could find a way of escape, when a door -was opened, and he was drawn in by a man who had watched -the scene and resolved to help the doctor. Soon a loud -knocking was heard at the street door, and Stapleton’s name -was called. The door was cautiously opened, and a woman, -half-drunk and badly cut, was thrust in. Dr. Stapleton -bound up her wounds, the woman cursing him all the while. -At length the street grew more quiet, and he reached the hall -where the meeting was to be held, and found it a scene of the -greatest confusion. The chairman’s appearance and that of -the speakers called forth a storm of hisses and groans. He -tried to speak, but the people would not hear him; neither -would they allow the candidate to be heard. Evidently it -was a packed meeting of Lavender’s supporters. But there -was strange irony in their making themselves hoarse by -shouting, “Liberty! Liberty!” though, after all, it was no -new thing that the liberty they wanted was liberty to think -and do as they pleased, and compel everybody else to do the -same.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Somebody uttered in a lull the name of Stapleton. “Try -what you can do,” said the chairman. “I am sure they will -not hear me,” said the doctor, “since they will not listen to -you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And he was correct. There was a perfect yell when he -rose to his feet, and he sat down, as the others had done, -without being heard. There were a few remarks made for -the benefit of the reporters, and then the meeting concluded -in an uproar, as it had commenced. Dr. Stapleton noticed, -as he went home, a little heap of stones, which he did not -remember to have seen before. He understood its meaning -later. His servants had retired, and he was reading, when he -received a shock. A shower of stones came crashing through -the windows of his house, smashing glass and breaking -lamps, mirrors, and vases. One stone that, fortunately, fell -on the table instead of the person of the doctor, had a label -affixed to it, on which was written “Good-night, doctor, and -pleasant dreams to you!” Stapleton was rather comforted -by this when, having examined the house and discovered the -damage done to it, he read the inscription. “After all,” he -said, “this looks more like fun than fury.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington’s home-going was not much more satisfactory -than Dr. Stapleton’s. He entered the door of his -house with a sigh. He expected to find the chair in the most -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>comfortable corner of the room occupied by William Hunter, -and to see his mother looking anything but happy; and he -was agreeably surprised to find Mrs. Hunter alone. She was -in an affectionate mood, and took his arm as they went -together to the dining-room. “You must need some supper -after your drive, for I heard the sound of wheels. Why did -you not ride?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, I knew uncle would give me a lift; and, if not, I -should have enjoyed the walk.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Tom has been in. She is a dear girl, and very fond of you, -John.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; she is most kind and cousinly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter laughed softly. “I feel sure,” she said, significantly, -“that there is much more than a cousinly feeling -in Tom’s heart for you. But men are proverbially blind, and -cannot see what is plainly before them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother, what a fanciful little woman you are! I believe -you will never give up dreaming dreams until you become a -really old lady.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is no dream, John, but very sober reality. And it is -the great hope of my life that you should marry Tom. So it -is of hers.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I never shall, mother; so I trust you will at once disabuse -your mind of the thought.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do not say so. You could never have a more loving and -capable wife than Tom would make. And—John—cannot -you see that that would be the way out of all your difficulties?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John’s colour rose. “That is a way I cannot take,” he said. -“That will never, never be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter persisted. “It would undo the harm that I -have done,” she said, “and make me feel happy and forgiven.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother,” said John—and though he tried to be gentle his -voice was stern—“have I reproached you? There is nothing -to forgive! I am sure you only did what you felt you were -obliged to do, and that you did it for the best. I am young -and strong. I shall win back every yard of my father’s -estate in a few years, if work and thought can do it. But -the trouble and the difficulty are mine, not yours, and they -will not hurt me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“John, why should you keep them when you can blow them -away with a word of love to Tom?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Simply because I cannot speak the word. What do you -take me for?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“John—I must say it, even if you are angry with me—it -will break my heart if that which I hear is true.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>“What have you heard?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That you are courting Margaret Miller. Who is she that -she dare look at you?” Mrs. Hunter laughed unpleasantly. -“Why, nobody knows what she is, nor where she came from; -she may be the scum of the earth for all——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother,” John’s voice trembled, “you are my mother, and -I love you, and I will not be angry with you, but please never -speak in that way again of Miss Miller.” He paused a -minute to steady his voice, and for debate with himself as -to whether or not he should confide in his mother, and -decided to do so. “There ought to be no secrets between -us two, little mother, for whom have we but each other? -And so I will at once tell you the truth. I have chosen Miss -Miller to be my wife, and have asked her to accept my love. -I have plenty to think of besides marrying for some years to -come, but if I ever do marry, Margaret Miller will be my -bride.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter’s eyes blazed with fury; but her son would -not let her speak. He had seen his mother in a passion -before, and for her own sake as much as his he resolved that -he would not listen to her torrents of angry words.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Wait a moment, mother. All that I can be to you as -a son I will be; but I am a man now, and I must be allowed -to choose my own friends and, above all, my own wife.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He left her after these words, and perhaps his heart was as -heavy as his mother’s. He was sorry to vex her; but he was -himself vexed, too. It was too bad to bring his cousin Tom -into this discussion, and to suggest that most absurd idea! -There could not be a particle of truth in the suggestion that -Tom cared for him, except as a cousin; of that he was -absolutely certain. It was a pain, that was not without -shame, that her father held a mortgage on his land, but he -would never redeem it in that fashion. He knew that his -uncle had obliged his mother to arrange with him instead of -a stranger, and he knew, too, that she had almost exceeded -the terms of his father’s will in what she did. It was well -that he was in the hands of an honourable relative; but the -thing was a trouble to him, for the thought of a debt was -hard to bear. His case was an exceedingly common one. -How to be just as well as generous is a problem given to -many to solve.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But what troubled John Dallington more than anything -was a doubt that had crept into his mind about Margaret. -He did not know what it meant, but he felt that she was not -happy with him. She appeared anxious and afraid, and even -his love could not melt away a certain coldness which seemed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>to be creeping over her. Poor Margaret was fighting a battle -with herself in regard to her duty. She was uncertain as to -what she ought to do. Mrs. Hunter had been more successful -with Margaret than with John when she set herself to insinuate -into the mind of each the suspicion of Tom Whitwell’s -love for her cousin. The two friends spent much time -together in London, as well as in their homes; and Margaret’s -fear that the suspicion was correct grew rather than decreased.</p> - -<p class='c011'>We have seen how busy the two girls were; but they had -each plenty of time for thought, and Margaret, after observing -her friend closely, felt convinced that she had some secret -sorrow. And having made up her mind to that, she had -no difficulty in deciding what the sorrow was, nor how it -could be cured.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Margaret had quite as much sense as sentiment. She -was not a good heroine for a novel, because she was so very -much an all-round person. She thought of John first, and -then she thought of Tom, and, lastly, of herself; and she -meant to consider well before she placed her friend irrevocably -between herself and her lover. But the uncertainty -was trying; and when Mr. Dallington asked that he might -declare their engagement, Margaret said they were not really -engaged, and that it was her wish that they should not be.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot understand you, Margaret,” he replied. “I do -not believe that you are fickle, or that you did not know your -own mind; and it seems to me that since we love each other, -the most honourable thing is for us to be openly engaged. -But I cannot urge you further; it would be unmanly to do -so; and if I could I would not wring from you a reluctant -consent. But I will not at present believe that you finally -reject me. Do not be alarmed; I am not going to persecute -you with unwelcome attentions; but I shall ask you again, -for I cannot give up the hope of years even at your bidding; -and some day, perhaps, you will explain to me the reasons for -this change. Pardon me, I am sure there is something which -you are keeping from me to-day, and that you would not -quite treat me as you are doing if the reasons which you -have stated were the only ones.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington had reached the Old House in excellent -spirits, but Margaret had astounded and pained him beyond -measure. He little guessed how difficult had been the task -to Margaret; but how could she tell him either that his -mother had written an anonymous letter to her, or that she -felt warranted in believing that his cousin’s happiness would -be jeopardised if she agreed to his wishes? Since her talk -with Harris she did not dare to lay quite the same stress -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>upon the old doubt as to her parentage, but she hinted at it -again and Dallington would not allow her to proceed. “You -are yourself and that is enough for me,” he said; but -Margaret was very resolute, and he was leaving her, if not in -anger, in keen and sorrowful displeasure.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then, woman-like, her heart failed her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let us be friends,” she said. “And do believe that I -care more for your happiness than my own.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was very gentle; but he held her hands, and compelled -her to lift her eyes to his face.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do believe,” he said, “that you are not doing this for -your happiness. For some inexplicable cause you think it -your duty; but you are mistaken. Friends? Yes, certainly, -let us be friends, and very near and dear ones.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is not what I mean,” said Margaret. But her -strength seemed suddenly to fail her, and she left him -abruptly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ann Johnson watched her as she hastened to her own -room, and she thought she heard a sob as the door closed. -She wondered what it meant. She liked the young Squire -of Darentdale, and thought him almost good enough for -Margaret; but there was no knowing, and she resolved to -fortify her against him in case he was not all he seemed; she -therefore took an opportunity to relate one of her stories.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shouldn’t like to travel. I should be afraid it would -hurt my morals. I knowed a man who lived abroad, and a -nicer man before he went there couldn’t be, nor a kinder. I -seen him the day afore he went, and I seen him the day after -he come back. He were altered then, for he had a scar on -his face. I says to him, ‘How come them beauty spots on -you?’ and he says, ‘Oh, it were a bird that scratted me with -her sharp tallions’; but whether it were the truth I don’t -know. He didn’t always tell the truth; for he pretended to -fall in love with a lady as I knows, and he proposed to her, -and then he set to work to steal her heart away. And he -stole it, too; and they was going to be married—it was -almost as close as Miss Wythburn’s wedding—and then a -woman come as proved as she were his lawful wedded wife. -And all the while he had been that proper—not a bit trivial, -nor nothing of that, but pious enough to deceive a saint. My -opinion is as few men can stand them foreign parts; so you -be careful, dearie.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ann Johnson’s stories always made Margaret laugh, and -they did now, though she was sadly wondering where John -was, and what he was thinking of her.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV.<br> <span class='large'>DEFEAT OR VICTORY?</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>On the morning of the day of the election Scourby was -fairly quiet, although many of the people had taken a -holiday, and were spending it in the public-houses and the -streets. The noise would come later, when the votes had -been counted and the result was known. The greatest enthusiasm -was evinced whenever Mr. Lavender appeared on the -scene. If only the enthusiasm had been for a better man, -how good this feeling of exultation and loyalty would have -proved! Alas, for the nation that is not enthusiastic! Few -sights in England have been more pleasant than the rapture -with which the men have welcomed their Parliamentary representative, -when the man has been worthy. Such elections, -even when they have been stormy, have been among the -glories of our land. It was new for such men as Lavender -to be “the chosen of the people,” and because it was new -the steady, stable middle classes could not believe in it. But -much had been going on of which they had little idea. Unfortunately, -it had long been the case that many of the best -men of the Churches had altogether held aloof from politics, -when they ought to have been in the very forefront of the -battle. The reason they gave was that Christianity and -politics seemed to have little in common. Many a party -had had its birth in some public-house, and many a seat -had been won by exaggerations and lies told of the opposite -side, and by broadcast promises that had never been kept, -nor were ever intended to be. To buy the more ignorant -part of the working men by flattering their vanity, by setting -class against class, by misrepresentations, and the stirring up -of their worst passions of hate and selfishness—these had -been the policy of more than a few who had by these means -won the highest honours in the land; but men with consciences -educated at the Cross could not stoop to these things; -if they tried, they generally failed; and, in the end, far too -many withdrew from politics altogether, thereby exhibiting -a pusillanimity which was little creditable to themselves or -their Church, since, together, they were well able to insist -that political contests should be fought on quite other lines, -and with different weapons.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>In the meantime strong efforts were made by the opponents -of the Churches. The bar-room in many instances -was the canvassing ground, and one notable feature -in the case was that hundreds of young men were -Lavender’s adherents. When they grew older they might -become wiser; but at present a very large proportion of -young householders voted for him. The fact was that he -and his party had helped them to their votes, for certain -men who had cheap house-property had been careful -to encourage young men to become occupiers that they -might exercise the franchise; and these men had been -well looked after, not only on the eve of the contest, but for -more than a year, and had by this means been secured by -these far-seeing men of the world.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was these facts which gave to the new party its hopes; -and the party, not only in Scourby, but throughout the -country, was dangerous because of its numbers. It sought to -pose as “the Labour Party,” and whichever side can persuade -the multitude to believe it to be that is pretty certain of -success. But there were hundreds of honourable, high-souled -working men in Scourby who were as much humiliated -as the wealthiest, when the state of the poll was declared at -night.</p> - -<p class='c011'>For the figures proved the stubborn fact that, though -by only a small majority, Richard Lavender was duly -elected.</p> - -<p class='c011'>From the yells of delight, and the groans of disgust that -followed, two astute working men turned away with hot anger -and indignation in their hearts. “There will be a reckoning -for somebody or other over this,” said one. “What have all -the parsons been doing that they could not save the town -from such disgrace?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Smoking their pipes in their studies, I suppose. We -have been perfectly sold! Isn’t it a pity that none but fools -can be found to manage affairs? We ought to have had a -local man. Both the Tory and the Radical are complete -strangers to us. How is it that a man seldom represents his -own town, but nearly always comes seeking the suffrages of -some place that knows nothing about him, except what he and -the newspapers say?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, they are too well known in their own town. But -this shows that they are not of the best. If a man has lived -an honourable life, and served the interests of the town, he -ought to be chosen and sent to Parliament by the men who -know him. It is a disgrace if we cannot grow our own -members.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>“So I think. If this had happened a year ago, and Dr. -Stapleton had been a candidate, he would have gone in.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you believe all they are saying about him? It is -very strange that he has scarcely put in an appearance over -this election. It is really most mysterious.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was less mysterious than it seemed; and, perhaps, it will -be as well to let our readers into the secret, such as it is, -while we give the Scourby men a little breathing time. -Really, this election proved to be for the salvation of the town, -and the sting of shame was for the healing of the people; -but all this could not be accomplished in a day.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The truth is that Dr. Stapleton had cared for Mary Wythburn, -and, though he had never said so, she had guessed it, -and he feared she had. He did not believe that he had -awakened the slightest feeling in her toward him, nor that it -had influenced her decision in regard to Mr. Greenholme. -But when she disappeared he was overwhelmed with trouble -and anxiety, and he had been to London several times in the -vain hope of finding her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Indeed, worry had made him so ill, that he resolved to take -a few days for a holiday, and see his brother, Mr. Felix -Stapleton, of Granchester. He was ten years older than the -Doctor. Their mother died when they were both young, and -their father when Felix was twenty-nine and Frederick nineteen. -He left a small fortune to be equally divided; but -Felix needed money more than Fred, for he was married and -settled, while his younger brother was at college, preparing -for his future. His own share of his father’s money and part -of his brother’s enabled Felix to take full advantage of the -tide that led to fortune. He was a builder and contractor, as -his father had been before him, and a keen man of business. -He saw that Granchester was destined to a rapid increase, so -he bought up land and built houses upon it. His foresight -was abundantly rewarded; odd fields and acres and pieces of -land that had come into his possession were one after another -wanted, and he sold some of them at a considerable profit, -others he covered with houses. Several building societies -existed in the town, and hundreds of working men were paying -by degrees the money which would make the houses -in which they lived their own. This praiseworthy ambition -on their part had been a great financial benefit to Mr. Felix -Stapleton. He lived in a fine new house in one of the outskirts -of Granchester. It stood on a hill which commanded -the best view in the neighbourhood, and was itself—with its -bright red bricks, its towers and pinnacles and glass-houses—a -striking object, visible for many miles around. It goes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>without saying that Mr. Stapleton, having rapidly accumulated -wealth, had also rapidly accumulated honours, both -municipal and religious, and that his wife and daughters -were among the acknowledged leaders of Granchester -society.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton was very proud of his brother and all his -successes, and there was a glow at his heart when he stepped -from the train and saw his nieces on the platform, and beyond -them, outside the station, the carriage with the handsome -horses and smart livery servants, which told so pleasant a -story.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Here we are, Uncle Fred,” exclaimed two girlish voices -together. “Father could not come to meet you, so he sent us. -How are you? You don’t look well; you need doctoring -yourself, Doctor. You must get married, or have one of us -to keep house for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The girls took possession of him, and beamed upon him -with their bright eyes, and one of them at once offered to -prescribe for him. His sister-in-law gave him a sisterly -welcome, and half an hour afterward the strong grasp of his -brother’s hand brought a flush of joy to the Doctor’s face.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is good to see you, old fellow. I thought you never -meant to come again.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have been sticking pretty closely to work. And so have -you, I should say. Why, how grey you have grown!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Grey? Yes. Quite the old man. You must blame these -romping, rollicking boys and girls for that. A man with -such a family can scarcely keep his youthful appearance.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Doctor thought there could not be a more delightful, -well-appointed home in all England than this. The house -had every modern convenience that science could devise, and -it was artistic, as well as comfortable, in all its arrangements. -Mrs. Stapleton had proved herself equal to their -change of fortune, and the house had a very gracious lady at -the head of its domestic affairs. There had been no stint of -money anywhere. The young people had their own rooms, -simply but not cheaply furnished. The pictures were some -of the most beautiful and costly of modern times. All the -latest books were in the library, and all the latest fashions in -the drawing-room. Servants, with perfect manners, moved -about the place, forestalling the wishes of the household and -their guests. Dr. Stapleton had never dined before as he -dined at his brother’s table, nor listened to finer music than -that which was provided for him afterwards, nor slept in -such a sumptuous chamber. The next morning it seemed to -him that the proofs of immense wealth were even more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>abundant than had been apparent the night before. The -stables and coach-houses were buildings that might have -served a poor man for his home, and were filled with expensive -carriages and horses. And the gardens were fit for a -nobleman.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At the breakfast-table the members of the family appeared -dressed in exquisite taste. Not a bit of vulgar finery was to -be seen upon any of them. The children, not particularly -pretty, perhaps, had been made to look so by the careful -arrangement of hair and clothes. Stapleton was sure that -more than money was expended in order to produce the harmonious -whole which proved so attractive; and that thought, -care, culture, and talent had been summoned to the aid of his -brother and his sister-in-law in order to make their home what -it was.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A very merry party partook of the morning meal; for there -is always plenty of fun where young people live; and the -Doctor was glad to observe how clever and refined were even -the jokes. But he noticed something else which qualified his -pleasure, and this was a look of care and harassment which -sat like a black shadow upon the brow of his brother, who -took little food, and scarcely joined in the conversation. At -first this seemed to escape the notice of all but himself; but -at last his eldest daughter, Matilda, remarked upon it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is there anything you could eat, father? We will get it -from the ends of the earth if you will name it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Stapleton laughed. “My appetite has not come yet, -Mat; but perhaps it will later.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are worried as usual about those horrible men. I -wish you would retire from business altogether, and let the -wretched creatures find work somewhere else, or starve, as -they deserve to do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish I could retire,” said her father. “But, Mat, you -must not forget that the wretched creatures, as you call them, -have a right to live which equals your own.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is there another labour dispute on?” asked the eldest son, -a lad of sixteen.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, the usual thing. These labour strikes are constantly -occurring with us, Fred. I suppose you know a little about -them at Scourby?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes; we have had our troubles there, and the victories -have usually gone with the men.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The men are often very unreasonable. They ought not to -expect to be paid in bad times the wages which they receive -when trade is at its best; but they do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And they seldom save anything for a rainy day,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>remarked Mrs. Stapleton, “but live up to their income -every week, whatever it may be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And they are awfully extravagant,” said Matilda. “I -had the curiosity to ascertain how many of the girls in my -Sunday-school class were learning to play the piano, and -found that eight out of fourteen are taking lessons. And -their parents are buying pianos on the hire system—so much -a week for three years. Eight girls! And I believe that, -without exception, their parents are artisans. Is it not -absurd? I laughed at the idea, and this so offended one child -that she left the class. I told her it would be more to her -credit if she learned to scrub floors and mend stockings. -She became saucy, and said she knew already how to do those -things, and should not ask my leave to learn the piano or -anything else her parents pleased.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are most partial to the violin yourself, Mat, are you -not?” asked the Doctor.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh yes,” said her brother, answering for her. “Mat is -wild on the violin, and she has a little beauty.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I heard you playing it this morning, I think?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I am as lazy as any of my set, but my dear violin -can draw me out of bed in the dead of the night, we are such -great friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you think it right to keep that pleasure to yourself?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“To myself? Why, Uncle Fred, I am willing to play for -any one. I will play to you all day if you like.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you very much. But what I mean to suggest is, -that your Sunday-scholars may be musically inclined, too, and -can get as much real pleasure out of a cheap harmonium or -piano as you out of your harp and violin. Why, then, should -they not?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Matilda coloured partly with vexation. “I think the cases -are different,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, they are. You get your instruments without trouble, -and pay for them with a ‘thank you’ or a kiss; they have to -practise self-denial, and part from the weekly payments with -difficulty; but if they are willing to do this, why in the world -should they not? A working man has as much right to a -piano in his home, if he can pay for it, as you have. Surely it -is better to spend money on pianos than on beer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why, uncle, I declare you are a rabid socialist. I had no -idea you were such a dangerous character!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And you forget one little consideration,” added Mrs. -Stapleton. “The money with which these are bought has -all to come out of our pockets.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Indeed! I had certainly not looked at the matter in that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>light,” replied the Doctor, and he could not altogether repress -the ring of irony in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the mistress of the house adroitly introduced a happier -subject of conversation, and “Uncle Fred” resolved that he -would no more give utterance to sentiments that brought a -frown to his brother’s face. He enjoyed his visit very much, -and especially appreciated the attention paid him by his -sister-in-law, who drove a pair of beautiful ponies every day -for his especial benefit.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But he could not get rid of the feeling that all was not well -with Felix, who, however, vouchsafed no confidence until the -last evening of Fred’s stay.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When dinner was over the master of the house playfully -observed that no one would be invited to the library that -night but Dr. Stapleton. It was a hint which all understood -and respected.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Stapleton appeared nervous and ill at ease, first drawing -his brother’s attention to one thing and then to another, -and all the time pacing the room as if he could settle to -nothing. At last the Doctor broke the ice.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If you were a patient of mine, Felix, I should say that -you had something on your mind.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And so I have, old fellow. And I am afraid it is likely -to remain there. Fred, do you ever feel the need of confession? -I think it must be an immense relief to a man sometimes -to tell out his troubles and his sins.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot say that I have myself ever experienced the -longing; but I can imagine that in some cases, when a man -is borne down by a secret burden, it does him good to talk it -over with another.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will try it. In whom should a man confide if not in -his brother? And if I keep it much longer to myself it will -kill me. Mine is a very common trouble. Fred, I am in dire -need of money.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Doctor had felt that something terrible was -coming, and the end of his brother’s sentence seemed so -tame that he laughed outright. “You want money?” -he cried, incredulously; “then, my dear fellow, what must -<em>I</em> do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The tone and the laugh hurt Mr. Stapleton, and caused -him actual pain. “Ah! you do not understand,” he said; -“how should you? But it is true nevertheless.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course I have heard before of large businesses, with -plenty of capital at the back of them, coming to a standstill -for lack of ready-money. I remember one or two failures -where there was enough to pay everybody twenty shillings -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>in the pound when affairs were looked into. Is it something -of the same kind with you, Felix?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I could not pay everybody twenty shillings in the pound, -and that is not the worst of it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really! You amaze me! But,” and the Doctor gave a -glance at the books and the pictures, “you could realise -some money if it became necessary, for, of course, a man, -and especially a Christian man, must pay his debts.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Am I a Christian? Sometimes I doubt it,” said Mr. -Stapleton, bitterly. “You know, Fred, I have had nearly -twenty years of commercial success. And at first I deserved -it. Every bit of work that I did at the beginning was well -done; the houses that I built during the first ten years of my -business life will stand as long as houses of the kind ever do -or can. And chances flowed in upon me; and profits, honestly -gained, too, grew and increased year by year until it seemed -to me that my wealth was so enormous it would last for ever. -When this place and the things on it were bought I was justified, -or believed that I was, in spending the money; and -trade was so good that I had no difficulties whatever then. -But a change has taken place during the last few years, the -building trade has been slack, the cost of labour has been -great, and materials have been costly. Profits have fallen; -I have had some bad debts to contend with; and all the time -my own expenses have been increasing. It is not easy for a -man of my position to retrench, and I have been constantly -hoping for better times, and now——” He stopped, and -paced the room three or four minutes before he proceeded.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a pity you cut such a dash, old fellow,” said the -Doctor; “but I am sure your intentions were right enough.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If I had only myself I would not care. It is my wife and -children of whom I think. It has been my one great joy to -see how they have delighted in the beautiful things which -I have been able to give them; and how naturally the children -especially have taken to the new manner of life. How can I -now drag them down from the position in which I have placed -them? I cannot do it, God help me!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is very hard for you—harder, perhaps, than it would be -for them,” said the Doctor. “But things may right themselves -in time. Let me lend you my money. I have a couple -of thousands.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have not told you the worst. A drowning man will clutch -at straws. Fred, I have lost my own self-respect and I am -going to forfeit yours.” He hesitated, and finally said, “No, -it is no use; I cannot tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>“Oh, tell me the worst, old man. Make a clean breast -of it; you will feel better afterward. I will find some way -of helping you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The fact is that I am ashamed, and have reason to be, of -much of my later work. I have built houses that cannot -stand, without foundations and with thin walls, and green -wood, and everything of the cheapest. I have been in haste -to sell them, and they have sold all the more readily because, -as I had built them, people took them on trust—and now the -time of retribution is at hand. One house collapsed last -night in a high wind. I am afraid others will follow. Two -evenings ago a little mission-room which I built, and poor -people paid for with coppers hardly spared, and which is -packed on Sundays and many evenings beside, was pronounced -unsafe for occupation.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The builder groaned, and the Doctor buried his face in his -hands. He would rather have given all that he had, and ten -years of his life into the bargain, than have listened to such a -confession from the brother whom he had loved and -honoured. He knew that all this was common enough in -those days, but Dr. Stapleton held it a crime, nevertheless, -and that his brother should have committed it nearly broke -his heart.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Did they pass a vote of censure upon you at the mission -hall?” he asked, presently.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no! I have not heard that they blamed me; and I -have the usual excuses about dry rot and all that to offer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But—you know!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, alas! I know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Felix, there is one thing, at least, that you can do. -Rebuild this little mission chapel as it ought to be done. I -will pay for it, and the prayers of the grateful people may -help you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes. I have thought of that myself. Thank you, Fred. -I can do that, and I will, without your help. It will be like -an acknowledgment of my fault; but that I must not mind, -it is only justice. O God, I wish I could be just! That is -what I have not been. I cannot think how I could have done -some of the things which I have done. I think my conscience -has been asleep, and is awake now with a vengeance. But -competition is ruining many beside me. The little men do -some of the mischief. They work themselves for workmen’s -wages, and get a few to help them who are unskilled, and -therefore take less; and I suppose they get some profit, for -they go on for a few years, and then, having cheapened -things for every one else and having nothing to lose themselves, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>they fail—while the men of capital have to suffer for -their folly and ambition.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; perhaps some trades are being ruined in this way. -But if any people are able to prevent it, the big men, as you -call them, are; for they might make a stand, and insist on -having none but good work done, or giving up business -altogether. And, of course, capital ought not to monopolise -the trades. Other men, as well as you, have tried and hoped -for success.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly; and deserved it more than I. I have been too -grasping and ambitious. I am truly sorry now that I did not -find some plan of making my workmen sharers in my -prosperity. I have not trusted them, nor they me. Excepting -at first there has been no friendliness or goodwill between us, -and this has cost us both dear. I have lost thousands of -pounds through strikes, and more than a few through speculation. -Ah! if I could have my time over again, how -differently I would order my life! But I am afraid the crash -must come, though I am not quite sure even now that if I -had, say, seven or eight thousand pounds of ready-money, I -could not tide over the worst and wait for better times. Forgive -me, old fellow, I have put my burden on your shoulders, -though it still rests upon my own. Pray for me, as you used -to do. I cannot pray myself; and yet I am uttering words -of verity when I say that now, as never before in my life, my -one desire is to do the right, if I only could be sure what -it is.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The words came brokenly, and the speaker threw himself -wearily into a chair. The Doctor put his arm over his -shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You may count on me, you know, without my saying it. -I will go home to-morrow and think all this over, and come -and see you again soon. You must reduce your expenditure -in the meantime—that is certainly necessary and right; but -we will avert the crash if it can be done. Go to bed now, -Felix; you looked tired to death.” And the brothers parted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Scourby people were perfectly correct in their opinion -that Dr. Stapleton had a secret trouble on his mind. After -his return he was a very much sadder man than they had -ever known him. He gave offence to his patients by raising -his fees, and soon became conscious that his practice was -leaving him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And on the eve of the Scourby election a temptation -assailed him. Dr. Stapleton late at night was asked to -receive a visitor. At first the two men spoke on ordinary -subjects in ordinary tones, but afterwards they were lowered. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>Once only Stapleton’s voice rang out, indignantly, “Am I a -dog that I should do this thing?” and the two men, with -white faces, glared in each other’s eyes; but after awhile they -calmed down, and when, an hour later, the stranger left, -Stapleton himself let him out, neither lifting his eyes to the -other’s face.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Doctor fastened the door after his guest, and then -returned to his study, and locked himself into it. He did not -stand with his back to the fire, as is an Englishman’s wont, -but he stood with his back to the table and his face to the -fire for half an hour, thinking all the time of his brother, and -going over again the trouble which had been confided to him. -Presently one little sentence he had uttered came back to his -mind, and he repeated it aloud, “Am I a Christian? Am I a -Christian? Am <em>I</em> a Christian?” He clasped his hands -together on the mantelpiece, and leaned his head upon them, -and so stood, as if oblivious of time. At last he turned with -a sigh, and forced his eyes to the table which he had avoided, -and, as though it had been some venomous beast, he looked -at the only thing that lay upon it. It was a cheque for a -thousand pounds!</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XV.<br> <span class='large'>A NEW EMIGRATION.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“Oh, Mr. Arthur Knight, I do b’lieve you listened, because -you were so close to the door when it came open!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, Miss Sissie Hancourt, I did. The singing was so -beautiful; who could have helped it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight had tapped at the door of a room in which -an old blind servant, whom he had pensioned, was living; but -the tap had made so little noise that it was not heard, and he -waited a few moments to listen. A sweet, tender voice, which -he recognised with a throb of pleasure, was preaching that -wonderful sermon in song from the text, “Oh, rest in the -Lord, wait patiently for Him,” which few can hear without -being hushed into quietness. He wanted to make the -acquaintance of the singer, and to know who she was and -all about her, so he stood outside the door until the sweet solo -was ended; but from some cause the door opened almost -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>before the last word had died away, and his entrance was -precipitate. He apologised for it, and was sorry to disturb -the little party of three, who looked the picture of contentment. -The old servant was listening with a smile upon her -white face, and the singer, who was evidently getting as -much pleasure as she gave, held on her knees the little -talkative child, who looked for once entirely happy to be -silent.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The young lady rose to leave, after courteously responding -to Arthur’s greeting, and could not be persuaded to remain, -although Sissie pleaded earnestly enough. “It’s only Mr. -Knight; he doesn’t matter, you know. Do sing again. He -will be sure to go directly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, indeed,” said Arthur; “please do not let me interfere -in the least. How came you here, Sissie?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am only here till mother calls for me. Geoff was -coming, too, but he could not make haste to get ready. He -was sweeping his teeth such a long while.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What was he doing, Sissie?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sweeping his teeth, don’t you know, with a brush. -Everybody does it. Mother says we must take care of our -teeth, so Geoff is nearly always sweeping his to make them -quite clean. What are you all laughing at?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Sissie Hancourt, you are a rich treat,” said the young -lady, kissing her. “Now, be good, and wait with Mrs. Smith -until your mother comes for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t go, I like you. Mr. Knight, please go away yourself, -and then my nice young lady will stay.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do not be unkind to Mr. Knight, Sissie. My cab is -waiting, I heard it stop at the door. Good-bye, Mrs. Smith, I -shall come again soon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do, dearie, it is such a comfort to see you.” The poor -woman often spoke as if she saw, though she was quite blind. -Her young visitor shook hands with her, and touched her -shoulder caressingly, and then Knight conducted her to the -cab, looking rather wistfully into the pleasant face, and -wondering if he dare ask her name.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“May I tell you something?” he asked. “You spoke to -me some time ago about the dwellings of my people—do you -remember?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It was impertinent of me to do so; but I was feeling very -strongly for that poor woman, and, of course, I did not know -that you meant to do anything for your <i><span lang="fr">employés</span></i>.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How could you know? It is good of you to take so much -interest in the people; and because you do I should like to -tell you that I am preparing to take my works and workers -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>away together. I have bought some land in Wales, and am -building such dwellings as I think you would approve. Next -spring I hope the place will be ready, for there is a colony of -builders hard at work there. I could not do what I would -here, and it seemed to me that this would be the better way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What a good idea! Do you say that the place is already -in course of preparation? I see your name often in the -papers, but I have never read of this project.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; we have managed to keep it out of the papers, for a -wonder; but the place is being rapidly completed.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you told the people?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not yet. I have been wondering whether it would be -wiser to do so. Do you advise me to tell them soon?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do, partly that it may comfort them, and partly that -they may familiarise themselves with the idea. You have -not the <i><span lang="fr">élite</span></i> of the working-classes in your employment, and -the change which is needed is more in themselves than in -their circumstances, though when one thinks of the environment -of the people it is little wonder that some of them are -bad. I am glad they are to have a chance.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She drove away with a pleasant smile, and Arthur Knight -wished he could have talked with her for hours instead of -minutes. He was determined to find out who she was, if -possible, so he returned to Mrs. Smith and Sissie.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am sorry I frightened your friend away,” he said. -“What is the lady’s name?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is Miss Grace. She lives in the country, and sometimes -she brings me fruit and flowers and vegetables, and -she reads and sings to me. She has a beautiful voice,” said -Mrs. Smith.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is a pretty lady,” added Sissie, “and I shall go and -see her when I know where she lives.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Miss Grace? Is that her only name?” asked Knight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That was what she said we were to call her, and her home -is in Kent, but I don’t know where.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And that was all the information which Arthur Knight -could gain.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the evening of that day, after he had visited the classes, -where, under the best tuition that he could provide for them, -the boys and girls in his factories were being trained for -their future lives, his thoughts recurred to the remark which -Miss Grace had made respecting his people. It was quite -true; he had <em>not</em> the <em>élite</em> of the working classes in his -employment. The low wages, and the general system on -which the works had been carried on, had not secured many -of those men and women, who, because of their nobility of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>soul, their spotless character and high ability, belong truly -to the upper classes of this country, although they are but -artisans and labourers. There were a few of these, and -Knight knew and honoured them; but most of his men and -women were of the lower sort. He was not sorry for that, -for he and his helpers, including Miss Wentworth, who -superintended all sorts of pleasant endeavours for the girls, -believed that these same people could, by kindness and firmness, -be so brought under good influences that a change for -the better would be effected. And much had already been -accomplished. The language of the people had been purified -(though not until several had been dismissed for swearing), -and their behaviour and appearance had been greatly improved. -Every Sunday afternoon Mr. Knight held a service -for his own people in a tent which he had erected in his own -grounds, and he was greatly encouraged because this effort -helped considerably to bring master and men into more -intimate relationship with each other. His pleasant, hearty -addresses were appreciated, and as soon as the men understood -that his life in all its bearings was in full accord with -his words, many of them were prepared to give him a -respectful hearing. He had not convinced all that he was -their friend, but he was certainly going the right way to -do so.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And he decided that now he would take the people into his -confidence, and tell them about the places that were being -made ready for them, and of which he often thought with -pride. Accordingly, he invited them, one Saturday afternoon, -to assemble in his grounds; and they came—men, -women, and children—and filled the space before the old -house.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My friends,” he said, “I want to explain to you my plans -for the future, and make a proposition. In the first place, let -me tell you that I have determined to close all my works in -London, and I have to place before you a scheme of emigration.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>This announcement filled some of the people with dismay, -though others saw the twinkle in the master’s eyes, and -more than a few had an inkling of what was coming, -and waited with interest the development of their employer’s -idea.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I know what sort of places many of you live in, and they -are not the houses I should like you to have,” he said. “I -know the rents you pay, and that without a great addition to -your wages it is impossible for you to find better ones; and, -therefore, I say you must emigrate. But, knowing how dear -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>to most of you this old England is, I do not propose to ship -you off to other and foreign lands.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Loud cheers greeted this assurance.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You know that my father left me a large sum of money, -and much of it is already spent; so that it is quite possible, -unless you will help me, that I shall become a poor man. I -have spent the money in the purchase of an estate, on which I -am having built a model town, in a beautiful district in -Wales. You will find there friends to welcome you, who are -going to spend their lives in helping you, having already -taken up their abodes in these places. There is in course of -erection a church, a technical school, an elementary school, a -building which in time is to be a free library and reading-room, -and there is also a people’s park and recreation ground. -In neither of them is there a public-house, and I do not intend -that there ever shall be; but in connection with the library -and reading-room there are a refreshment and dining-room. -There are numbers of working men’s homes, comfortable, and -as pretty as one could make them, each with a piece of garden -attached to it, and each so built that it will be possible for a -man and his family to live in it in decency and comfort at the -lowest rent that will pay. The workshops and factories and -the whole place will be lighted by electricity, for plenty of -light is a necessity; and in each of them there will be an -abundance of those other necessities which God intended -should be free to all His children—plenty of beautiful, health-giving, -fresh air, and pure, good water. Now it rests with -you to make my plan a grand success, or a miserable failure; -for what I propose to do is to remove my business bodily, and -you with it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The excitement, which had been growing here became -intense, and a deafening cheer rang through the crowd.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My great wish is that you should be able to live under -very different conditions from the old ones—that you should -get fair wages for your work, and your money’s worth for -your money. If you are willing to agree to my stipulations, -then I will advance you the money which you require for -your travelling and other necessary expenses. You know that -this is an age of great competition. You know, too already, -that I have resolved not to have bad materials used or manufactured -in any business of mine. ‘Knight’s goods’ shall be -good, and worth the price that is charged for them, whatever -comes; on that I am quite determined, even if the determination -should mean ruin. But if you will help me it shall mean -honour, and the highest kind of prosperity to us all. I propose, -therefore, to pay you the wages which your trades -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>unions have decided are fair, but I want you, by extra industry -and skill, to earn more than your wages. I propose -that you should one and all become partners in the concern, -and share the profits according to the labour and skill which -you invest, so that if it be made a paying concern we shall all -get some benefit from it, and if a losing business we shall all -lose together. You know how to render it a success. Care, -ability, industry, and enthusiasm will make the thing go, and -the lack of these will bring everything to a standstill. If -you are men enough and women enough to carry this idea -forward, then I hope you will come with me. And bring -your children too. After receiving a good education, such as -will make them able to compete as artisans with Germans, or -Frenchmen, or any other nation under the sun, they shall be -taught also the trades of their fathers. But if any of you -love your bad habits better than this new idea, then do not -come with me, for I do not want you. If you mean to do as -little as you possibly can for your money, if you mean to be -loafers, and spend your wages in drink, we will not waste any -money in travelling expenses for you, because I shall not -employ you, nor allow you to live in any of my houses. If -there are any wives here in love with thriftlessness and idleness, -who will let the new houses get as untidy and uncomfortable -as the old ones, they may stay in London, for there -are no pawnshops in my new places, nor any room for wasteful, -idle people of any kind. But if you are willing to leave -the bad habits with the old life, and turn your faces to the -new, then you shall be assisted by all possible means. I want -you to be my friends, as I am yours; but it is only right to -tell you that you are not going to serve an easy, good-natured -sort of master if you serve me. Whoever breaks my rules -will leave my employment, so let none say that I have not -given due notice of my intention. To let a man or woman -off who is found lazy or drunken, or even incompetent, since -I am willing to provide instruction, is not to be really merciful -to him or her, and is to be unjust to the others. No gambling, -drinking, or dishonesty; but plenty of pleasure of the -best sort; plenty of music, entertainment, lovely scenery, -good wages, and as much real happiness as one can provide -for another—these are to be the accompaniments of your new -life. But happiness and well-being are not for others to -secure for us; we have to decide each for himself in regard -to these things. I appeal especially to the young, whose -lives are before them, if they will not resolve to make the -most of this opportunity. I now leave you all to make your -choice. A month from to-day you must hand in your decision -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>in writing to the foreman of your department, each writing -the word ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ and signing his or her name; and -the head of each household must also write the names and -ages of the family wishing to go. And some time in the -spring we will have our new emigration.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>More than a few went away to dream of the future, and -prepare for it. But Mr. Knight was mistaken if he thought -that his action would be universally appreciated and approved -by his employés; and if he could have overheard the remarks -which some made as they filed out into the streets, he would -have been considerably enlightened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What do you think of that, then?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I call it the crackling of thorns under a pot.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What I want to know is, where’s a fellow’s liberty to come -in?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That’s what I says; I ain’t agoing to be made a teetotaler -willy-nilly, and give up my beer for no young jackanapes like -him. Not I! I be a bit too old for that sort of thing. No, -no, says I, you don’t catch old birds with chaff, not a bit -on it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I says ditto. None of your buttercups and daisies, -and no publics for me. I am a man, I am, and I ain’t agoing -to be a child, nor yet a slave. I shan’t go.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, Jim, I guessed you wouldn’t as soon as I heard what -he said. You couldn’t be happy if you mightn’t get drunk -twice a week, could you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You mind your own business, and let me mind mine. I -shall do as I like, and you may do the same.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you; as for me, I shall try the new life. There -isn’t much to be got out of the old one, I’m thinking.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What nonsense it is for him to talk about sharing the -profits! As if he would! A fine lot will come to your -share!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’m not sure about that. A good many masters are trying -that on; and it answers, too! The men put better work in, -and more of it, if they think all the reward doesn’t go to -somebody else.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’d sell my chance for a pot of ale.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I dare say. A friend of mine down at Hull was in -just such a thing as this, and a fellow sold him his chance for -a shilling. But when the end of the year came he wished he -hadn’t, for his chance told up to seven pounds ten.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! a likely tale that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a true one, any way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall make my man go, because of Polly’s eyes,” said a -woman. “Polly’s eyes are dreadful bad.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>“What is the matter with them? Is it inflammation?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, its ulsters. The doctor says its her health fell in ’em, -and she wants fresh air. That settles the matter for us. -Fresh air she wants, and fresh air she shall have, now there is -a chance.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The fresh air will make a man of Polly,” said a person, -who was dressed in better clothes than most of the men.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Does the gentleman mean,” asked a young woman, timidly, -of the last speaker, “that we are all to go and live in the -country?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, that’s his idea. How would you like it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should love it. I go every summer for one half-day. -Oh, it must be beautiful to be always there, and see the green -grass and all the daisies and primroses.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, my gal! All very pretty while the summer lasts, -but when the winter comes where would you be?” said the -man who had been called Jim.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Out of the London fog,” was the reply, and there was a -general laugh at that.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But how about my father? I couldn’t leave him behind; -he’s only got me to work for him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well, then; you must put on your paper ‘Yes,’ and -your name, and then say, ‘I must take my family with me—that -is, my dad,’ and I bet something will be done for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What’ll you bet, Jack? There ain’t got to be no gambling -down there, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And a jolly good job, too,” said a young man who had -heard the last remark. “I lost a pretty penny on yesterday’s -horse, and where the money is to come from to pay up I -don’t know. I expect we shall be fools if we don’t take this -offer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>This opinion was decidedly in the majority. And, indeed, -the more the matter was talked over and commented upon -the more attractive did it become. And, as may be imagined, -there was a vast amount of talk during the rest of the day -and the Sunday. Paradise Grove was a most lively place for -once, and nobody wanted to be in his or her own house, but -everybody wanted a chat with the neighbours. Some of -the remarks were doleful enough, for most of the women -of Paradise Grove took a dislike to Mr. Knight’s idea, and -it is doubtful whether, but for the efforts of “the Basket -Woman,” they would have agreed to it. But she spent the -whole of that Saturday with them, and by her cheery congratulations -and hopeful words heartened everybody up. -The poor things, who had known nothing but grinding -poverty all their lives, shrank from the strangeness into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>which they were going, and believed beforehand that they -were certain to be, as one girl expressed it, “deadly dull.” -They did not want life to become strenuous. There was no -ambition in them. They would rather be as they were—in -the old familiar places, within reach of a gin-shop, and where -they might be lazy and untidy to their heart’s content, and be -free to do as they liked—than nerve themselves up to this new -life. They did not want to be better off, they said, they were -satisfied as they were, if people would only mind their own -business and leave them alone.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Their friend laughed at them, and drew the picture of their -future in glowing colours. She was not surprised at the -apathy of the poor; the rich are apathetic, too, with less than -half the reason. The dwellers in Paradise Grove were what -they were because of generations of neglect and suffering. -It was not their fault that they had no ambition, and no hope, -and she pitied and did not blame them. But she had made -up her mind that Paradise Grove should be left comfortably -vacant, and that the little company she had taken into her -care, and put down safely into her very heart, should enjoy to -the full the good things that had been offered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are you going down there, Basket Woman?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course I am. I should not like to be out of that. -Besides, I shall want to know how you will be getting on. -And you will want me just as much there as here.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And how about the parish doctor? What are we to do -without him?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You won’t want him. I expect you will all pay your own -doctor, or have a club doctor, or something of that sort.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And do you think Mr. Knight will allow any fun?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What nonsense! Of course he will want you to be as -merry as possible. Do you suppose he wants to make you -miserable? Does he look like it now?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will he allow dancing?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He will allow everything that is right. Why, you haven’t -begun to dream of the good times that are in store for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the people, even those who were willing, were anxious -about ways and means.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What are we to do for furniture, Basket Woman? Ours -looks a deal better since you’ve ’namelled it, or whatever ’tis -you’ve done. But most on ’em are poor bits of things, and -can’t be made naught else. They do very well when we’ve -only got a room, or, at most, two, to put ’em in; but they -won’t look nothing at all in a house; and I should be ashamed -to turn mine out for all the neighbours to see how poor they -be, and how few there is on ’em—I’d sooner not go at all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>“Yes, so would I,” said another. “And, besides, most of the -furniture in this Grove ain’t none too clean, and he won’t like -it, I reckon, if we takes all sorts of things down there with us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; that I am sure he will not,” replied the Basket -Woman, who wondered if Mr. Knight had the least idea of -half of the details involved in his scheme. “Shall I see Mr. -Knight for you, and explain your difficulties, and discover -what he can suggest? Will you send me to him as your -deputation?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, we will send you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I will take Fanny Burton with me. You will send -her, too, won’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, yes! hands up. There! we all agree.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t know whether it will be better to have a man or -two in the deputation.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, no! You go and settle everything for us. You don’t -want no man. I won’t say that they haven’t their rights, but -they’re poor fish whenever there’s anything got to be done. -You go, Basket Woman?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you must all tell me this! Will you abide by what -I settle for you? Do you trust me enough for that?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They looked at her, and then at one another, and then back -again at her; and next a man took his pipe from his mouth, -and clearing his throat, delivered himself of the following -sentences:—“I ain’t no speaker, I ain’t, but I say for one as -I’d trust that there Basket Lady any lengths. She’s the best -friend we’ve ever had in this ’ere Grove, and she knows us, -and what we like, and what we won’t stand; and she won’t -prove no sneak, I’ll lay my life on that. This Grove ain’t -been the same place since she come round a-basketing; nor -our homes ain’t been the same neither, and we’ve most of us -fell in love with our old women over again, all through her; -and I say, here’s our duty to her, and what she says is right -as between Mr. Knight and us, I’ll stand by.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Hear! hear! So we will all. Hooray for the Basket -Lady!” said another, and a hearty cheer was raised, in which -both men and women joined.</p> - -<p class='c011'>For a moment or two the recipient of all this public honour -could not speak. Her lips trembled, and her eyes filled with -tears. It was a grand time for her; how grand only those -can know who stake their happiness and very life on the good -of others. Two lines of a hymn rang through her soul—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh, happy if ye labour,</div> - <div class='line'>As Jesus did for men.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>It will seem strange to many who read these words, but it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>is the truth, that never before, and never after, in her whole -life did she know such a rush and ecstacy of gladness as she -knew then.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dear friends,” she said at last, “I thank you very much. -As long as I live I will be your friend; and I hope you will -not be afraid to go with me into this new life that Mr. -Knight has made possible for us. I will see him on Monday -morning, and on Monday evening, after work-time, I will let -you know what he says.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVI.<br> <span class='large'>CHRISTMAS DAY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“You are not like most women, my daughter Tom; you -can keep a secret?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But not from you, dear. I will tell you what you want to -know, really, if you put it in that way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell and his favourite daughter were spending a -cosy evening together in the library at Hornby Hall. The -lamps which lighted the room were shaded, the curtains were -drawn, and the fire burned brightly. Tom sat on a low chair -by her father’s side, and he laid his hand lovingly on the -short curls of her closely-cropped head. “Now, tell me if I -understand you rightly, Tom,” he said. “Instead of the -usual pocket-money which has been your share—a Benjamin’s -portion always, you know, because you are my youngest—you -want me to give you a pound a month. Next, you wish me to -forget that I have a mortgage on John’s land, which, indeed, -as you say, I no longer hold since you have it. I am not -going to ask you to tell me what is in your heart to do, Tom; -but you are too sensible not to remember that business is -business and right is right. I cannot afford to make John a -present of that deed, and he would not accept it if I did.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But he is dreadfully in want of money, isn’t he, father?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, he is; and so will you be soon if you try to make -twelve pounds a year do for your necessities. Does it not -cost you half-a-crown each time you go to London, even -travelling by third class? And you would not be content to -go up less frequently than once a week; for what would your -young Crusaders do if they did not see you, and what would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>happen to your old and sick people here if you never had a -shilling to give them?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But a pound a month would not be all I should have. I -have learnt how to earn money by my own talents and -industry. Has not that a grand sound?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What do you mean, dear?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have become a contributor of pictures to the daily -papers. You did not know that you had an artist in the -family, did you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, and I do not know it now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is too bad of you. Really, I have been earning a -little money in that way for some time past. There, you see, -I cannot keep a secret after all. But, seriously, father, I -feel so sorry for Cousin John. He looks most anxious and -miserable, excepting when he is doing something for others, -and then he brightens up. I know you are not rich, nor as -comfortably off as you might be if you would let that scapegrace -heir shift as he can by-and-by; but do you not think -that you could strain a point, and let me send that parchment -to Cousin John as a Christmas-box?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, Tom. It is very unreasonable of you to expect such a -thing. Besides, John wants more than a hundred and fifty -pounds a year to lift him out of his troubles. I have generally -credited you with a fair amount of good sense. Do not disappoint -me now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Tom was very persevering, and persistence generally -wins.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She was correct in saying that John Dallington looked full -of care. Indeed, neither he nor Margaret Miller would have -been able to bear the worries of that time equably, but for the -vivid interest which each was taking in the new life that was -developing around them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret was discovering how bitter one woman can render -the existence of another. Mrs. Hunter made her hatred of -the girl felt in a hundred ways. The village of Darentdale -was small, and it seemed that the two must frequently cross -each other. The glances of the lady’s eyes were always -vindictive and her words were barbed arrows. She was not -careful to hide her feelings, and everybody in the place knew -how heartily she hated the girl whom her son loved. -Margaret was constantly hearing, although she begged her -friends to keep silence, what Mrs. Hunter had said; and other -letters, unsigned, followed the first, and made her angry as -well as wretched. Every action of hers seemed to be misunderstood -and misrepresented, and the state of things became -intolerable.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>John Dallington, upon whose young head some grey hairs -were already to be seen, was often vexed as well as unhappy; -and a conviction began to force itself upon his mind that he -and Margaret would do well to end the present unsatisfactory -state of affairs by a speedy marriage. He would leave his -mother in undisturbed possession of the old home, and he -would take one of the better cottages on the estate, where he -and his bride would begin life together in a small way, and -work and economise, and love one another until more -prosperous times came. It was a very alluring prospect—if -he could only get Margaret to adopt it! He resolved that he -would at least compel her to think of it, and decided that on -Christmas Day, which was approaching, he would lay his -project before her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In Darentdale there were to be no special spasmodic gifts -of dinners and flannels on the occasion. For more than a -month two vestries belonging to the chapels and the church -schoolroom had been the scene of happy evenings of industry, -where young people had been busying themselves in all sorts -of ways, and especially in manufacturing pretty little -Christmas gifts, which had been disposed of at a sale, the -proceeds being divided among the workers. The superintendents—the -ladies and gentlemen who were trying to help -the people to independence, instead of demoralising them -with alms—were exceedingly gratified at the result; and it -was with a ring of exultation in her voice that Margaret -Miller said: “We have not in the whole of Darentdale a -single able person whose hands have not been busy for more -than a month.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was, accordingly, very great happiness in the village -on Christmas Day. John Dallington heard the bells ring -out their peal of gladness early in the morning, and experienced -for a few minutes the sort of joy which had filled him -in the spring when he first returned to England.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The post brought him several cards and congratulations, -and among the rest a large envelope addressed in the handwriting -of Tom Whitwell, which he opened before the others. -As soon as he saw the nature of its contents the swift colour -dyed his face and his pulse quickened. The envelope contained -the deed to which his thoughts had often referred, -and a note, which read thus: “<span class='sc'>Dear John</span>,—There need be -no ceremony between cousins, and so I hope you will let me -ask your acceptance of the accompanying Christmas gift, -with my love and best wishes. This is a day, you know, -when nobody feels vexed with anybody else, and Christian -humility fills all hearts, even those of young men. I rejoice, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>and so does father, in the splendid things you are doing -on your farm, and we want to have a little share in them. -Dear old John, you will be good, and let us have our hearts’ -desire, because of all the gracious associations of the season, -and because of the love of your two friends, Tom and her -father.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington went to church in the morning with his -mother, and had early dinner with her and Mr. William -Hunter afterward. Then he wrote a cheque which was due -to Mr. Whitwell on that day, and sealed it up together with -the deed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother,” he said, “I shall ride over to uncle’s and take -tea at Hornby this afternoon, if you have no objection.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“None whatever, John. Give my love to them all. And -perhaps the girls will come over and spend to-morrow with -us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will ask them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom expected her cousin, but she could scarcely be quite -her old natural self. Mr. Whitwell at once gave John to -understand that anything special which he might have to say -must be said to Tom and not to him. Tom gave him no -opportunity. She soon rallied her powers of merriment, and -by the aid of her sisters a pleasant afternoon was spent. -John did not wish to prolong his stay, for, however delightful -the company of his cousins might be, he was hungering for -the few minutes which he had promised himself should be -passed with Margaret as the crowning joy of the day. But -neither did he intend to leave until he had put that deed -safely back into Tom’s hands. About seven o’clock he said, -in desperation, “Tom, may I have the honour of a five -minutes’ serious talk with you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly; it will give me great pleasure to be as serious -as even you can desire.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Where can it be? May we go into the library, uncle?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no!” said Tom, in frightened tones, “please let it be -here, so that my people can sympathise with me if the -seriousness should deepen into solemnity.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But John offered his arm and led her away, amid the -significant glances of her sisters.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She was the first to speak when the door closed upon them, -and they stood facing each other before the fire.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are not going to make a fuss, John, are you? Please -don’t! There is nothing whatever to be said.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, indeed, Tom, there is much for me to say. Do sit -down.” He saw that she was trembling, and thought it best -to go at once to the point. “Never had man such a kind -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>little cousin as I have; but, of course, it must not be. I -should never respect myself again if I did not meet and -discharge my liabilities, as other men do. I know you are -your father’s man of business, Tom dear, so I hand you this -cheque, due to-day, as well as the deed. And I think you had -better kiss me, and let us feel that we are now and always -the best of friends.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“John, do have it. I shall feel so bad if you will not. -And father will like to do it just as much as I. He does not -need this cheque. If you should become a rich man some -day you can make it all right then; but for the present do -let it be as if this had never been. There, it is a good thing -that I have not to parse that last sentence, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Tom, my mother sends her love; and will you all come -and spend the day with us to-morrow?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, John, I will do nothing until you put back that letter -into your pocket.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will be a hard experience for you, my little cousin, to -do nothing for the rest of your natural life.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>At this juncture, I am sorry to say that Tom Whitwell -disgraced herself by beginning to cry, and John Dallington -was genuinely distressed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! pray don’t do that, Tom. Try to be your own sensible -self. Why, you would never respect me again if I did -this thing; and I should be sorry indeed to forfeit your good -opinion. Try to look at this matter from a man’s point of -view, dear. Your kindness to me has blinded you; but suppose -I were William Hunter instead of John Dallington, -what would you think? I shall get over my difficulties. -They are not unusual ones, and I am strong enough to cope -with them. I shall buy back this paper which you so generously -wish to give me, and that will be so much the better -for us all round. Tom, do tell me that you think as I do!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom’s eyes, usually so merry, were suffused when she lifted -them to his face, and his mother’s suggestion flashed into his -mind. He was sure that Tom only cared for him as a cousin, -and yet if he could have taken her into his arms, and told her -that he loved her, he could see that it would be an easy way -out of the difficulty; and what good news it would be to take -home to his mother. And Tom could be made to care for him -in time, he really felt sure of that. Dear little Tom, she -looked very limp at that minute, and she was hating herself -heartily, too.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She struggled bravely for a moment or two, and then conquered -her weakness.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am a nice cheerful fellow for Christmas Day,” she said. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>“Excuse me, John, I am miserably disappointed; I think you -might give in, and let father and me have a little pleasure -for once. But you are so wilful. Come and look at this -picture. My sister Clara painted it, and gave it to father -this morning. He is very pleased with it, and Clara is really -clever.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John admired it, and several other new things which had -been given to his uncle on that day.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish I might be just such a man as he when I am -his age,” said John. “There is no man whom I honour as I -do my uncle. I hope I shall never give him reason to think -other than well of me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dear old dad!” said Tom. “There is no man like him -in the whole wide world; he is a king among men—a high, -august, imperial emperor, and, compared with him, all other -men are mice, especially some!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She felt better after the outburst, and presently the two -went together into the drawing-room, where they were -enjoying some music. Tom flushed at the look of her sisters, -but she knew that they knew better than to question her, for -she often boasted that she had brought her sisters up in the -way they should go, although they were all older than she. -Presently John left, and for the rest of the evening Tom -gave herself entirely to the entertainment of her father. -They were such good friends that he did not need to ask any -questions but one, “Have you left it in the library?” and she -said “Yes; shall it be chess?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John’s horse carried him swiftly along the way, which his -desire travelled before him. He knew what he should see, -and his heart longed for a glimpse of the beautiful lighted -face on which he would like to gaze for ever. The roads were -hard, and the moon shone brightly. It was a peaceful wintry -scene, and John’s heart was full of peace and goodwill. It is -true that he gave a few half-troubled thoughts to his cousin, -but he would not let himself suppose that more than -ordinary relationship had induced her to make the attempt -she had made. “Dear little Tom, she meant it kindly,” he -said, “but I am sorry to see her so weak. She never would -have cried if she had been quite well; it is not in the least like -her;” and then all his attention was centred upon that which -was before, not that which was behind him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ann Johnson opened the door directly he knocked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A beautiful night, Mr. Dallington, indeed. Yes, they are -at home, they haven’t been out since the morning. Oh, no; -it is not too late to wish me a merry Christmas, which it is, -though we don’t keep late hours in the country. Why, dear -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>me, there’s lots of houses in the great metrollops where they -are, as you may say, just about to commence their jovialities, -but I don’t care for that style: no great metrollops for -me, thank you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ann commenced one of her stories; but John stepped -toward the room whence he could hear the sound of the voice -he loved; and Ann let him pass into it without announcing -him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>To the eyes of Dallington there was no scene so exquisitely -home-like as that which he scarcely saw more clearly now -than his imagination had seen it as he rode through the -night. The room was old, and not large; it was furnished -with perfect taste; there was not a showy thing in the whole -apartment, but everything that was comfortable and cosy, -soft and bright seemed gathered there. Mr. Harris sat on -one side of the fire, nursing a cat, and Margaret on the -other, with her hand on the head of a dog. A lamp was near -on a small table, and the volume of Browning from which -she had been reading was laid beside it when John entered. -She glanced at him half shyly; she must not let him see how -very glad she was, but he did see, and his heart leaped for -joy. He took the hand she held toward him, and then, -yielding to the hunger of love which impelled him, he -gathered her in his arms for one moment, and kissed her -tenderly, twice. Afterward, he turned to Mr. Harris with an -apologetic remark, “See; I have some mistletoe, and it is -Christmas time, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well; if you consider that these give you the right, -well and good,” was the reply.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have a right, established on a better basis than that,” -he said. And Margaret, who was about to contradict him, -held her peace. She could not say that he had no right when -her heart was filled with such glad music at the very sight of -him. All day she had been asking herself, “Will he come?” -and it was of no use for her to try to disguise the fact that -an hour spent with him held a year of happiness for her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They had some fruit, and then, at the urgent request of -Mr. Dallington, Margaret went on with the reading, John -feasting his eyes upon her bright head and graceful form, -and watching the expressive face and sweet lips with a joy -that had much resolution in it. “Mine, my darling, my very -own, mine you are and must be; I would give the whole world -for you, and feel that it was too little.” So his thoughts ran -as he listened to the inflections of her beautiful voice, and -saw the light on her face. She left off occasionally to discuss -the passages she had read. “I am obliged to question Graf -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>now and then, to be sure that he understands,” she said, “and -he and I do not always agree as to the meaning. It is well to -have another opinion.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dallington gave his in a most hap-hazard way, and when -he was rebuked had the effrontery to confess that he had -thought less of the reading than the reader. Yet even he -could not do other than listen again to the well-known lines -of Rabbi Ben Ezra, and especially the closing stanzas—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in8'>“But I need, now as then,</div> - <div class='line in8'>Thee, God, who mouldest men!</div> - <div class='line'>And since, not even while the whirl was worst</div> - <div class='line in8'>Did I—to the wheel of life,</div> - <div class='line in8'>With shapes and colours rife,</div> - <div class='line'>Bound dizzily—mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in8'>“So, take and use Thy work,</div> - <div class='line in8'>Amend what flaws may lurk,</div> - <div class='line'>What strain o’ the stuff, what warpings past the aim!</div> - <div class='line in8'>My times be in Thy hand!</div> - <div class='line in8'>Perfect the cup as planned!</div> - <div class='line'>Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>So the time passed, and an hour seemed no time. They -moved to the piano, and sang Browning’s songs, after his -poetry. Dallington had a good voice, and he sang one after -another, concluding with</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“So the year’s done with!</div> - <div class='line in2'>(<em>Love me for ever!</em>)</div> - <div class='line'>All March began with</div> - <div class='line in2'>April’s endeavour;</div> - <div class='line'>May-wreaths that bound me</div> - <div class='line in2'>June needs must sever;</div> - <div class='line'>Now snows fall round me</div> - <div class='line in2'>Quenching June’s fever.</div> - <div class='line in2'>(Love me for ever!)”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>Then Margaret sang a song from “James Lee’s Wife”; -and so the hours flew by, and Dallington arose to leave.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ann Johnson will be angry with me, and think that I -belong more to what she calls ‘the great Metrollops’ than to -the country, if I keep such late hours,” he said. But Mr. -Harris wanted some music of another kind, and an hour was -spent in sacred songs and solos. At last John wondered what -his mother would say to him, and felt that he must not -linger longer. The old man, whose dreams were of long ago, -enjoyed the evening almost as much as the young folks did; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>and he discreetly gave them a few minutes alone after supper; -and this was John’s opportunity.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret,” he said, “I think you care for me a little, but -perhaps not enough to give me the answer that I want. It is -a very unsatisfactory state of things that exists between us -now: surely you feel it as I do. Why should we not end it -by being married at once?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The suddenness of the proposal took Margaret’s breath -away; and as she did not reply John continued: “I am asking -you to share my poverty with me. My mother must -remain undisturbed, and I should not like her income to be -less than it is; but we might begin life in a small way, and -be very happy together if you love me, Margaret. You do -not care for a great house and extravagant expenditure any -more than I do—not that any place would be too good for you, -my queen——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, John; you know it is not a question of money; but I -cannot marry you now, and you must see that for yourself. -There are several reasons, but one will suffice. I shall never -be married to you while your mother dislikes me as she does -now. I could not consent to come between you two. She has -no one to think of but you, and it would be too hard, after -being separated from you for so many years by the ocean, to -be estranged by something else.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How do you know that my mother dislikes you? She is -civil to you when you meet.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret smiled. “Yes—in a way—but it is impossible -for me to mistake the feeling with which she regards me. I -am very sorry, for my own sake as well as yours; but I could -never be happy if I made your mother miserable—because -she is your mother.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish she knew you, really.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid it would make no difference.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She knows that I love you, and hope to marry you, because -I have told her myself. She will relent after a time; but it -is hard to wait. At least grant me one favour, my darling. -Let me know from your own lips that you accept me, and -give me your promise, as I give you mine, that you will not -marry another.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret’s face paled a little. “I will give the promise, but -not accept it,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I give it and accept it, too,” answered John, promptly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The thought that kept repeating itself to Margaret was, -“If I could only be sure about Tom!” and she was wondering -all the time whether it would not be better to ask her friend -a direct question, and so get at the truth.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>“And for the rest we must wait,” she said aloud.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We need not wait an hour before we are pledged to each -other. Do grant me at least this, my dearest, so that I can -feel sure of you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Wait a week for that,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well; but you are not going to send me away without -a crumb of comfort, to-night of all other times. Tell me -in so many words that you love me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, John, you know—you must know! I love you better, -I think, than even my own happiness. Be content, my dear -one.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And he was.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVII.<br> <span class='large'>A REPORT OF PROGRESS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“May the New Year bring in better times for the people!” -This was the wish of the thousands.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“May the New Year bring in better people for the times!” -This was the wish of the tens.</p> - -<p class='c011'>As is often the case, the tens were more wise than the -thousands, for the times do not make the people, but the -people make the times; and if the makers are good, that -which is made is certain to be good also.</p> - -<p class='c011'>That year was a most wonderfully progressive year in -England: there had never been anything like it before. -There were forces at work to make it so, which, though they -were as old as Christianity itself, seemed to be more mighty -than ever, and the strongest of them all was love. People -said that there was a revival among the churches, but it -resolved itself into one fact—the members of the churches -were honestly trying to love one another more, not in word, -but in deed and in truth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was, perhaps, not a town nor a hamlet in which no -special effort was made to place things on a more satisfactory -basis than before. It could not be said that any one man -was instrumental in bringing this about, but Arthur Knight -certainly had a large share in it, and an indication of what -was done in one town will show how the whole country was -being affected.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the fascination of his own personal work among his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>people, for whom a strange, strong love was in his heart, he -hesitated sometimes as to that other work which he also -loved. Which was his duty—that which lay the nearest, or -that which was the clearest? He had made his resolve: he -would do both. He was young and strong, and he would -most gladly yield his strength, ay, and his life itself, to this -service. It is never the men of leisure who do the great -things, it is those who have not an hour to spare who add -new duties to old ones; and Arthur Knight was a man of -singular energy.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course, it goes without saying, that he was constantly -told that the time was inopportune for his particular crusade, -and that the poverty and wickedness of the people was not the -burning question of the day. But what he pleaded for was a -truce, and that all sorts of hostilities should cease while the -Christian men of England exerted their combined powers to -make England Christian. And the people were much more -ready for this than their leaders were.</p> - -<p class='c011'>As far as he could, therefore, he accepted all invitations, -and, thanks to the newspapers, he always had a good hearing. -But it was at Granchester—a city certain to be at the front -in such an enterprise—that he was made most to rejoice. An -invitation was, in the first place, sent to about two hundred -prominent men, irrespective of party or denomination. -Arthur Knight had not spoken to them for ten minutes -before all who were in the room became influenced by that -strong and vivid personality, which was the secret of his -power. His heart was on fire with his subject, and his language -was expressive, and as he spoke, first in indignation, -and then in pleading accents, he won over to his side almost -every man who listened. Shortly, he touched upon those -specific evils of the day which were filling men with shame -and indignation; and then, in terse, strong words, he denounced -the lethargy and cowardice of those who allowed -these things to exist. He declared that all things were ready -but the Church itself; and in words which burnt their way -into their hearts he called upon his hearers to show some -heroism for Christ, to give up their own ease, to share their -wealth—not always gotten Christianly—with the poor, to -be honest in their payments of wages, to come forth, like -St. George of old, and kill the dragon of indifference, selfishness -and wickedness, which was doing England such deadly -wrong.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We have had such a sublime history,” he said. “We -used to grow such brave and patriotic men! Do we belong -to another race than they? Is our country less dear to our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>hearts than to theirs? It is such a beautiful land, ‘a land of -hills and valleys, that drink water of the rain of heaven, a -land which the Lord seeketh and careth for, and His eyes are -always upon it from the beginning of the year even unto the -end of the year.’ But in this land—this land of blessing, -this little land—and because it is little so manageable—there -are scarcely unchecked powers of evil lifting their brazen -faces to our blue skies and pure air—greed, cruelty, lust, -drunkenness, slavery, hypocrisy, fraud. Do you know that -in this land of ours there are nearly five millions of people in -destitution and misery? But there are more than seven and -a half millions in our Sunday-schools. Of the thirty-six -millions who make up the population of Great Britain and -Ireland the churches claim a constituency of more than half. -Indeed, it is said that five-sevenths of our people profess and -call themselves Christians. Then, why, in the name of all -that is sacred and responsible, is it possible for these things -to flourish in our midst? Are we hypocrites, or are we -cowards? All the real strength of the nation is with those -who say they are on the side of the Christ. Most of the -power, most of the culture, most of the intelligence, yes, and -most of the money is on this side also. Then why do we weep -and whine over the sin and the misery of the world, since, if -for only one year the spirit of Christ were truly in us, and -we were content with one accord to stand together under the -white flag of Truce, we are well able to bring about that for -which we pretend to long and pray. There are subjects which -divide Christendom; let them wait while you set yourselves -to this work. You are not called to sacrifice any principle, -but to adopt a new one—the principle which keeps the -unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. Retain, if you must, -your different forms of church government, but, in the name -of Christ, unless you regard your sect and political party -more highly than you regard Him, put them behind you -while you do the work that presses. Study for a month or -two, side by side with the New Testament, the words of the -great teachers specially given to this generation and this -land—Carlyle, Ruskin, Browning, and Tennyson. They tell -you how to do this work, to which they have been urging you -with all their powers. We have had a magnificent inheritance -in these teachers, whom God sent to make us great; and yet -so craven are we that we are afraid to use our power to -compel a man to be clean-lipped and moral, and so powerless -that we cannot help him to help himself to be fed and -clothed. To-day there are women and girls drinking themselves -drunken by scores in every town, and selling themselves -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>as if no spark of God were in them; to-day there are -men the personification of cruel brutality and loathesome -vice; there are little children dying for bread, and old people -as wicked as they are wretched; man is hating his brother -man, and crushing him down that he may make money by -him, and there is a seething mass of misery and sin at our -very doors. And the saints are folding their hands and -sighing, ‘Oh, Lord! how long!’ Shame, shame, shame! -Surely the Lord sends back the question in indignant -answer. How long, indeed, before those who are sent to -the world as He was sent, awaken to a consciousness of their -high calling? Let him that nameth the name of the Lord -depart from iniquity; or if he will not, let him stand aside -with the brand of the hypocrite upon him. Let no one say, -Lord, Lord, and do not the things which He says. Let those -who are, on the whole, on the side of Christ join those who -are whole-hearted; let them swell the numbers of the heroes -and heroines, for there are hosts of them. Above all, let the -Church universal come together, and forgetting, at least for -awhile, the dividing lines, swear in the name of Christ to wipe -out the dark red blots that lie upon Christian England. Oh! -believe me, we have been too long and too utterly living for -self instead of God. We have thought that Christianity was -a creed only, instead of life and service. The time is surely -come for us to choose sides afresh—and there are only two -sides from which to choose, that of Christ, and that of -unrighteousness. I call upon you to divest yourselves of all -encumbrances. (Think of the man with the muck-rake calling -himself a Christian!) Come and arrange yourselves under -the Flag of Truce. Do you not know yet, after all these -years, what our Lord has been teaching all along, that the -world will never believe that God sent Jesus until His -disciples are one? It is the Church, and not the world that -hinders the coming of His Kingdom. But the Church will -follow its leading men. Let the remnant that has not bowed -the knee to Baal come forth and lead.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The address produced a profound impression, and there was -a solemn time of re-dedication of many lives. A subsequent -meeting was held, which was of a very practical character.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think I shall speak for many,” said one. “I know that -I do for myself, when I say that it has only been by keeping -down the voice of God’s Spirit within me that I have waited -for these words before acting. I am one of those who -thirsted for riches, and got them; but they have not satisfied -me. I for one pledge myself to give all that I have and am -for Christ.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>“And I pledge myself also,” said another. “We must -make some change if we would save our own sons. Many of us -are what we are because of the need to work which was upon -us in our youth. But our sons are content that the work was -done for them. Gentlemen, <em>how are they spending the -wealth which we gained</em>? I speak to many fathers, who know -that the money which they gave the best years of their life -to secure, is nothing but a curse to their sons. Many of the -young men of to-day are too idle to keep the positions which -we have won for them, and are spending what we have given -them, to work their own ruin.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The speaker’s voice died away in a sob, and everybody understood -what the trouble was which had made him prematurely -old and grey.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then Mr. Felix Stapleton arose, and everybody -looked at him with interest. “I am sorry for the fathers -whose sons bring trouble to them,” he said, “and I am also -a little sorry for those whose sons condemn them. What -many a man dreads more than anything in these days, when, -thank God, the boys of England are enlisting by thousands -in the army of the Young Crusaders, is the calm, clear-sighted -judgment of his own children. What would they -think of us if they knew all the secrets of our business -transactions? How would they rate our pious talk about -Christian brotherhood if they knew precisely our treatment -of those who work for us? Mr. Knight’s rousing words are -like a summons to arms; but the soldiers in Christ’s army -must be men without reproach. And who among us is? We -need grace to be true, and courage to do the right. We are -called to rule the world for the world’s good, and to stem the -tide of sin and misery; but first of all we must rule ourselves, -and our hands can only be strong if they are clean. -God pity me; I am speaking of myself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were a few who looked puzzled when Mr. Stapleton -thus concluded his short address, but his words would have -awakened more curiosity at another time. On the present -occasion most men were busily searching their own hearts, -and were, therefore, less disposed to criticise others.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When he left the hall, Arthur Knight left with him, and -the few minutes which they spent together in conversation -helped Stapleton at this turning-point in his life to take the -right course.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let us concentrate our thoughts upon two points,” said -another speaker. “What ought to be done, and how shall -we do it? We must not infringe upon the liberty of the -subject—no Englishman will stand that; neither must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>we constitute ourselves a company of private detectives. -But every man must bring his personal knowledge of -the world of human nature to bear upon any new work which -he may undertake. We all believe that the best way to aid -men is to help them to help themselves. This cannot be done -in the mass, but by one individual influencing another. -Before we go farther, let us resolve upon this one thing—<em>let -none of us become beggars for money</em>; there has been far too -much of that already. <em>Let us use the means that we have for -the development of our own idea.</em> And let us each begin at -home. Let every man amongst us who is an employer of -labour ask himself whether he is fair and honest in the -matter of wages. Is there any man, woman, or child working -for us at starvation prices? If so, our first duty is to remedy -that. No Christian man who is making money can grind -down his servants—no matter how unskilled may be their -work, nor how overstocked the market—without disgracing -his religion. Some of us have done this without knowing it, -because we let all these things be settled by middlemen; but -the responsibility is ours, and this ought to be seen to first.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Another speaker said: “Every church or chapel must be -the centre of all sorts of helpful ministries for the poor who -are around us. There is a great outcry because some of us -have moved away into the suburbs; but <em>the people</em> are around -these buildings in large numbers. Let us use some of -these places every day for the social work of the churches. -Many of us are looking out for good investments. Cannot -we find our opportunity here? I will take or buy one of the -cottages in the street nearest my own chapel, and make a -workshop for the unemployed of the bottom story, and an -evening recreation room of the top. At the chapel we have -particularly good arrangements for teas; I will see if we -cannot provide cheap and good dinners for the people there. -We must care more for the people and less for the buildings.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It will be seen how ready for immediate action these men -were, and indeed the need was then very pressing, both at -Granchester and everywhere else, for the winter had brought -more than the usual misery.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In some towns there was formed what was called “The -Committee of Helpfulness,” and it had abundant work on its -hands. An account of one will serve for all. Anything and -everything that love and thought could do was to be done; -but the main idea and aim before it was to secure the young. -The members of the committee could themselves only feel -their way to the full development of the new ministry, and -they called for volunteers.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>“We will begin with the smallest,” said a lady. “I will -belong to the Needlework Guild, because there is nothing else -I can do. There are poor women in the parish who are overworked -with their large families, and who will feel it a very -neighbourly thing if we send strong shirts for the boys and -dresses for the girls. I will try and enlist others who, like -myself, have been do-nothings; and we will utilise such odds -and ends of materials as we can find in our own houses, or -that may be given to us. If we have more than we need, we -will send some to London. Many children would attend both -the Sunday and day school more regularly but for the difficulty -of dress. This is only a little thing; but it will be -a relief to some of the mothers, which they will greatly -appreciate.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I ask to be put upon the committee of the Neighbours’ -Union,” said another member of the conference—a man of -fair means. “There are old persons and poor widows who -have appealed to our Poor Law Guardians in vain. They, in -order to keep down the rates, and to stamp out pauperism, -refuse outdoor relief, and offer the hospitality of the union -workhouse. But we can do better than that. Every parish -is probably able to take care of its very poor, and also to -become sufficiently acquainted with the people to know who -could be wisely helped, and who ought not to be helped at all. -Certainly we can undertake this. In twenty or thirty years’ -time there may be some national system of insurance against -sickness and old age; but we need not wait for that. The -strong and the active will have to help the sick and the old. -We have been doing it all along. Only now, let it be understood, -that the Neighbours’ Union exists in obedience to the -example of the Good Samaritan. It has been a disgrace to -the church organisations of any place, where life has been -rendered miserable, through poverty, to the sick and the -old.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I ask to be allowed to work at the other extreme of -our social life,” said a young man, “and be on the Children’s -Play Committee. We ought to have every child of the -parish in one or other of our Sunday-schools. There are -some who are not, but I think we shall find no difficulty -in getting every child into our play-places. First of all, we -must see that they have good times; and, secondly, we must, -while giving them the utmost liberty, endeavour to influence -them. And we must not rest until we get all our lads -enrolled among the Boy Crusaders.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>In this way, and others, the idea of brotherly kindness was -spreading; indeed, there was scarcely a church or chapel -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>in connection with which there was not some new activity; -and, what was better still, that New Year’s Day was, by -common consent, devoted to self-examination on the part of -those who professed to be the servants and followers of Jesus -Christ; and not only where men and women were assembled -together, but in the quietude of their own rooms thousands -were asking and answering, as in the presence of God, -the question which had haunted Dr. Stapleton, “Am I a -Christian?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>For the Doctor himself the answer had been found by -many people in Scourby, who had decided in the negative. -He was so woefully altered, he looked so miserable and ill, -he had aged so greatly in a few months, he was so utterly -unlike his former self, that, forgetful of the charity which -thinketh no evil, some who had been his friends had convinced -themselves that only a guilty conscience could account -for the change in him, and had treated him accordingly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Quite how the scandal grew no one could tell; but Stapleton -had the bitterness of knowing himself entirely unpopular and -disregarded. Ladies passed him in the public ways without -recognition. Men, if they saw him coming, turned into side -streets; and things came to such a pass with him that at -last he wondered if he had a real and staunch friend left -in the town where, less than a year ago, he could have -counted them by hundreds.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The people of Scourby were feeling bad-tempered with -everything and every one, because they considered themselves -disgraced. The example set by the town had been followed -in other places, and Mr. Richard Lavender had three men -likeminded with himself to keep him in countenance, since -they also had been sent to Westminster, not as either Conservatives -or Liberals, but, as they themselves said, as -Anarchists, and in opposition to Religion and Respectability.</p> - -<p class='c011'>These four men unwittingly did more for their country -than they intended.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At Scourby there was much bickering between Churchmen -and Dissenters, who each blamed the other for what had -happened. But they were united in declaring that something -must be done, so that at the next general election that which -was intolerable to them should be avoided.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell came to the rescue. It occurred to him -that this might be an opportunity for a common ground of -meeting between all sections of the Church of Scourby. He, -therefore, called on the Nonconformist ministers and the -clergymen, and succeeded in getting from them a promise -that for once they would sink their differences, and meet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>together in the interests of the town. What he had to go -through that day, what arguments he found it necessary to -use before he could accomplish his object, he never told any -one; but his favourite daughter guessed it when he threw -himself into a chair on his return, and said, “Tom, play me -something soothing, for I have never had such a day’s work -in my life.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom was an excellent musician, and knew well what her -father liked, so she gave him one exquisite strain after -another until at last he was ready to talk. “The ministers -of Scourby,” he said, “have agreed to call their people -together to consider the present crisis, and to suggest plans. -First of all they are to have a meeting among themselves. -The vicar of the parish church wanted it in his schoolroom, -but the Congregational minister objected; he said his people -would not go to the church school, they would not trust the -vicar enough for that, and he suggested his own schoolroom. -The vicar did not think his people would go there, and eventually -it was settled to have the preliminary meeting here, so -you and I are to drive into Scourby to-morrow, and fetch -them all to luncheon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Hornby Hall is acknowledged to be neutral ground, then? -How glad I am. Will the parsons let me be present at the -meeting?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish they would. I believe you could make a very good -speech on Christian union, Tom.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It is gratefully recorded, as one of the most hopeful signs -of the times, that this meeting of ministers was a success. -For two whole hours they elected to believe in one another, -and each man endeavoured, to the best of his ability, to give -his brother ministers, whether of the Episcopal or the Free -Churches, credit for being actuated by the same high motives -as those which governed himself. They did not, therefore—as -they so easily might have done—frustrate the endeavours -of the layman-peacemaker, but loyally seconded them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell, as the host, was also the president. He -proposed, after luncheon, that they should open their conference -by prayer, and called upon a young Primitive Methodist -minister to lead them. This gave the right tone to the conversation, -and a few words from Mr. Whitwell, expressing -the hope that there would be a concerted action on the part of -the Church to wipe out the stain which had been put upon -the town, were well received. Then the vicar proposed that a -meeting of Christian townsmen should be called to arrange -some method of procedure. This was seconded by the -Wesleyan superintendent, and cordially carried. They then -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>proceeded to details, first settling upon the place of meeting, -and then upon the speakers. There were in all fourteen -buildings in Scourby erected for the worship of God, and in -the name of Him whose great wish for His disciples was that -they might all be one; but it was decided that neither of -these would serve their purpose, it was safer to hold the -meeting in the town hall. It was to be called by letter, -which each man undertook to send to the members of his own -church. Mr. Whitwell was to preside over that meeting -also, and the least political of the ministers was to move a -resolution of regret at what had occurred, and determination -to prevent a repetition of it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A large number of men responded to the invitation; many -who took no active part in politics feeling that they ought to -be present on this occasion. After the chief speeches had -been made, the meeting was thrown open for discussion, and -it was at this juncture that some of the most forcible words -were uttered. Each speaker was allowed five minutes; and -several crisp little addresses were worthy of being remembered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sir,” said one, “let us petition Parliament to declare the -election void, because it is an insult to our Lord more than -to us. And yet I think it would not have happened if -we had not been caught napping. Here are all our ministers -sitting on the platform together. How is it that such a -sight in Scourby was never witnessed before in the memory -of living man? If, as soon as the vacancy occurred, you -gentlemen had called us together, there might now be representing -us in Parliament a man of whom we might all be -proud, instead of one of whom we are all ashamed. Gentlemen, -are you not supposed to be our leaders? Why, then, -did you leave us to ourselves in the late emergency?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What we have always wanted is union,” said another. -“The time has surely come for it now. There are plenty of -other men like Mr. Lavender, ready to declare themselves -haters of what we love. I hope other towns will profit by our -mistake. This is a meeting to be thankful for. We are -forgetting, for this one night, whether we are Radicals or Conservatives, -and only remembering that we are Christians. For -God’s sake, let us work shoulder to shoulder in the future.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington had invited Arthur Knight to come down -and speak at that meeting; and though he only had five -minutes, he managed to make one of his characteristic -speeches. “Why,” he asked pertinently, “did the men of -this town believe in Richard Lavender instead of in you? Is -the British working man a fool, that he does not know his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>friends? What have you, the representative Christian men -of Scourby, called to be rulers of men for their good, been -doing that this thing should have happened to you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell was so delighted with Arthur Knight that he -told his nephew he must have him for his guest. “Come, -too, John,” he said, “and let us talk these things over. My -wife and daughters will be glad to make your acquaintance, -Mr. Knight. Here is the youngest. Tom! Let me introduce -you to each other. Mr. Knight, of London—Miss Grace -Thomasine Whitwell.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom blushed vividly; and as for Arthur Knight, he was so -astonished that he did not know what to say, for he suddenly -became conscious that he was looking into the bright face of -the lady whom he longed to know, and holding the hand that -had rendered such kind service to some of his people. He -was going to exclaim, but Tom greeted him as a stranger, and -though her eyes were sparkling with fun, they said, as plainly -as any words could have done, “Do not dare to say that we -have met before!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVIII.<br> <span class='large'>DISCOVERED.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The alacrity with which Arthur Knight accepted Mr. -Whitwell’s invitation to spend the night after the -Scourby political meeting at Hornby Hall, and the readiness -which he exhibited to prolong his visit, puzzled his friend, -John Dallington, exceedingly. It was as if Knight, one of -the busiest men in the land, had nothing whatever to occupy -him, so entirely did he yield himself to the passing pleasure -of the time. John could not guess what the circumstances -were which gave to the incident an irresistible -charm, but Arthur felt as if he had found unexpectedly a -mine of treasure for which he had been willing to search the -world over. And Dallington was forced to acknowledge to -himself that from some reason or other his cousin Tom was -more delightful, and his friend Knight more happy than he -had ever seen them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Naturally the talk at the supper-table was of Scourby and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>its troubles, and of the other places where bye-elections had -resulted in similar returns.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will be a lesson to us,” said Mr. Whitwell, “and I hope -that in time politics may assume a new aspect. After all, -both parties are agreed upon main points, for Conservatives -and Liberals alike have, or are supposed to have, the best interests -of the nation at heart. Our divisions are caused by -our divergence of opinion as to the means by which the same -ends are to be secured.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Exactly; and this may be said of our religious differences. -We all, or nearly all, believe that salvation is through faith -in Jesus Christ, and that to be a Christian is to be a believer -in and a follower of Him. We believe, too, that the peace and -well-being of peoples is to be secured through allegiance to -Him. Is it not wonderful, then, that both in Christianity -and politics we often seem as far apart as the poles?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not at all wonderful,” said Tom, “seeing that man is -always a combative and disagreeable creature, and that the -more civilised he is the more stubborn is the animosity which -he cherishes towards every one but himself. Did you ever -know a body of men in committee who did not waste the time -in discussion and disagreement?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I have frequently observed the phenomenon, Miss -Grace; and are not most things the better for being threshed -out in discussion? Many men means many minds; and in -‘the multitude of counsellors there is safety.’ There is not -necessarily antagonism because there is difference of method; -but no one more regrets than I that these differences should -be accentuated until they actually create a division among -those who ought to be heart and soul together.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What names do you propose to give the new parties, -Mr. Knight?” asked Miss Whitwell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No names at all. We will try and get the things and -name them afterward. We want the party of righteousness -to oppose the party of wrong, that is all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, of course, that is exactly what we have now,” said -Dallington. “Every man believes that his own party is for -the right and the other is not. It is a question of standpoint.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; but making allowances for that sort of thing, there -is some common ground upon which we can all meet, and -men who have consciences ought to occupy it while they -make one grand united effort on behalf of those whose -existence is little more than a struggle.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“All life is a struggle, though,” said Dallington, “and -working men must have their share.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have been much interested in hearing of your plan in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>regard to your own workpeople,” said Mr. Whitwell. “I -hope it will succeed. You are spending an immense sum of -money on the new town which you are founding. I know -that because of the little I have tried to do on my own farm. -I hope you are not doomed to disappointment.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not afraid of that. I am spending all that I have at -present; but my London places occupy valuable sites, which -I shall have no difficulty in selling. My hopes are sanguine -in regard to my people, although I know that human nature -is a very difficult thing to deal with. The people need new -natures more than anything, but I believe that we are all -greatly influenced by our environments, and my men shall -have a chance.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“All sorts of good influences are being exerted upon young -people to-day,” remarked Mr. Whitwell, “and therein lies my -hope for the future.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and the wisdom and patience of those home missionaries -who have taken London in hand appear unfailing,” -said Knight, glancing at Tom, who returned the glance with -a comical smile. “Several educated men are giving all their -leisure to the boys belonging to my establishment, and there -are some ladies who are bringing about very happy changes -in the homes of the people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Miss Wentworth has not gone to Madeira this winter, -Arthur, has she?” asked Dallington.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; and she spends all her days in doing good. There is -a young lady, too, who is occasionally seen by the bedside -of the sick, who is like an angel of light”—Tom flushed -violently, and shook her head warningly—“but” proceeded -Knight, “perhaps the best work of all is that which is accomplished -by an individual who seems to have no name, but is -known as ‘the Basket Woman,’ because she carries to the -doors of the people all sorts of necessary articles in a basket -and sells them. She is a lady of culture and refinement, very -good and sympathetic, and most sensible too, and she has -brought about quite a change in one of the worst courts of -London. She appears to be alone; and at first I wondered -what her friends could be thinking of to let her be there in -the midst of so much that is degrading; but now the men of -the neighbourhood would not let a hair of her head be hurt, -so entirely has she won their confidence and affection. The -Basket Woman is preparing nearly five hundred people for -their new home in Wales as I think no one else could. She -heartens up the women, and looks well after the children, -especially the boys. She has a large number of the young -crusaders under her care.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>“What a wonderful movement that is!” commenced Mr. -Whitwell; but Tom interrupted him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Excuse me, father. I must ask Mr. Knight to tell us -more of this Basket Woman. What is she like? Is she -young or old?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is young and fairly good-looking, and quite devoted -to her work. But she gives me the impression of an individual -who has had trouble, and is even now undergoing -considerable anxiety of some kind. She must have private -means, though she lives economically in cheap lodgings in -the neighbourhood of the people for whom she works, but she -is able to relieve distress when it is genuine.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It cannot be Mary Wythburn! I must surely have met -her sometimes if it had been she!” exclaimed Tom, forgetting -herself for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you do not know Mr. Knight’s place or people, do -you, Tom?” inquired one of her sisters.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do a little—that is, one or two of them. I went to see -a poor woman I heard of who was ill near that neighbourhood. -But Mary Wythburn! Is it possible?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We had better tell Mr. Knight about Mary,” suggested -Mr. Whitwell, and John Dallington related the incident of -the frustrated wedding. When his friend had heard the -story he was very doubtful as to Miss Wythburn and the -Basket Woman being the same individual.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My Paradise Grove friend is far too sensible to have -acted in that manner,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I have a feeling that it is she,” said Tom. “I wish -we had Mary’s portrait that we might show it to Mr. Knight. -Margaret Miller has one, I will borrow it in the morning.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You will be able to spend to-morrow with us, Mr. -Knight?” queried Mrs. Whitwell. “I am sure you will be -interested in what my husband is doing for his tenants.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall have to leave about midday, unfortunately,” he -said. “I have made an appointment with the Basket -Woman, who has been vainly trying to waylay me for some -time. She wishes to make a suggestion to me on behalf -of the people. The next day I have to be in Granchester -again.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is where Dr. Stapleton’s rich brother lives. I wonder -if the doctor will go to your meeting, Mr. Knight?” Then -followed a little account of the doctor’s doings as far as they -were known.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The time passed all too quickly, although they talked far -into the night. Next morning John Dallington left early, -and Arthur Knight had a country ride with his host over the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>farm and along the roads. Tom was a good horsewoman, and -she accompanied them. Arthur enjoyed a long talk with -her; but she was determined not to give him the chance of -seeing her alone. He was intensely interested. He found -her so pleasantly piquant, so merry and entertaining, that -sometimes he wondered if she had two natures; for there was -little to remind him of the sweet singer who had comforted -the blind woman only a short time before. He had no opportunity -to refer to the incident, or to say a word of their past -meetings, only as he was leaving Tom said, softly, “Give my -love to Sissie when next you see her, and also to the Basket -Woman, if she should prove to be Mary Wythburn.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He had a pressing invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Whitwell to -repeat his visit, and this he promised to do at no distant -date; but for a little time he was full of engagements. He -wished, very sincerely, that he might become better acquainted -with the youngest daughter of his host, who puzzled as much -as she pleased him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course, he did not forget the commission which she -had given him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“When are you going to tell me your name?” asked Arthur -Knight, when the lady in grey presented herself before him -as a deputation from Paradise Grove.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The question disconcerted his visitor, whose cheeks flushed, -while her eyes sought the floor.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Excuse me, Mr. Knight,” she said, “the name does not -matter. Please call me the Basket Woman, as usual.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She stole a glance into his face, and saw that he was -looking at her intently; but she would not allow anything -to interfere with the task that she had on hand, and hastily -proceeded to explain the cause of her visit.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I come as a deputation from Paradise Grove,” she said. -“Fanny Burton was to have come with me; but, unfortunately, -one of the children in the Grove was seized with -croup in the night, so that we could not both be spared. -Your astonishingly kind proposition has been the subject of -much talk among the people, but I am afraid you will find -the scheme more costly and troublesome than you have -imagined.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose they are not enthusiastic, are they?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps it cannot be said that on the whole they are. -Years of dull poverty and hopelessness have taken all the -spirit of enterprise out of some of them; but many quite -appreciate the offer, and are looking forward with interest -and expectation. I think the idea magnificent. And I do -not mean a single individual of my people to be out of it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>“That is right. You will no doubt get your own way; -and I am much obliged to you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, Mr. Knight, they are in trouble about their furniture. -What are they to do with that?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will they not take it with them? They will want it in -the new place as much as in the old.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you do not forget what the old places are like, do -you? If you remember, there is very little furniture to -speak of in Paradise Grove. The beds and tables and chairs -are all old, and most of them broken. The houses, since we -tore down the dirty paper and had all the walls freshly -whitewashed, are much cleaner than they were, and there has -been a considerable quantity of soap and water brought to -bear, not only upon the walls, but upon the furniture also. -But still, I think it would be a great pity if these old things -were put into your new houses. It would be a great expense, -too—almost as much as they are worth to take them -down.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But what is to be done? They cannot do with absolutely -empty houses, and I am afraid very few of them have money -to buy new tables and chairs.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly they have not. How should they have?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you propose that they should sell their old things and -buy new with part of the money?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think, if it is not an impossible thing, for you to have -the houses—those for the poorest people, at all events—furnished -for them, with a few plain things which are -absolutely necessary; it will go a long way to make your -idea a success.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes. And is the furniture to be mine or theirs?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yours, until they have paid for it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose it might be possible, but it would be rather an -undertaking added to all the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I know it would, and am not surprised that you -hesitate. But you could get so large an order completed for -the whole at much less cost than the people could individually; -and if you undertake the furnishing as well as the -building of these houses, you will be doing it all very completely, -and can fairly make better terms for the people than -they could for themselves. Many of the better class of workmen -have made their homes comfortable, and will probably -prefer to take their furniture with them. It is the very poor -who would be helped. If I may, I would suggest that those -who have goods to sell should prepare a list of them, and then -arrange to have them sold at public auction. There will be -plenty of buyers among the poor who are to be left behind if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>the things are sold cheaply, as, of course, they must be, and -then whatever they fetch, after paying expenses, might be put -down to the credit of the persons who were owners of the goods.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; some arrangement of the kind can no doubt be -made. We will do the best we can.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you. I was sure you would. I often try to picture -their delight when they are really settled in their new homes, -with their friends about them, and so much of joy and comfort -which they never expected added to their lot.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will be good to know that they all start comfortably in -their new homes. You have taken a great interest in them. -I hope they will repay your kindness.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They have done that already. They need to be carefully -dealt with; they must not be demoralised with gifts, but -helped to make themselves comfortable by their own earnings, -and then they will be all right. I am delighted with the -change in the Paradise boys and girls.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, so am I. You have dealt wisely with them, and gone -far to prove what an educated woman can do among those -who, notwithstanding our so-called system of education, are -deplorably ignorant. I suppose you had no idea, when you -were graduating at the University, that you would spend -these months in slum-work.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, indeed, I had not,” she said, and suddenly stopped, -and looked at Arthur Knight in amazement. “Why do you -suppose that I have had a University training?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have heard so.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But who could have told you? No one knows anything -about me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Pardon me, Miss Wythburn. I was at Scourby yesterday, -and I spent last night at Mrs. Whitwell’s house near Darentdale. -Your friend, Miss Tom Whitwell, showed me your -portrait. I had mentioned the Paradise grove Basket -Woman, and she cleverly jumped to the conclusion that you -are yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It was like Tom,” she said, and hid her blushing face in -her hands, overcome with emotion. Knight considerately -allowed her a few minutes in which to recover herself, which -she speedily did, and said, trying to laugh, “So I am found -out at last. How are all my people, Mr. Knight?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose you know that your father and mother are not -now in Scourby?” he asked, gravely.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I know,” she said, “for I have been to see. I had no -answer to two letters, although I gave my address in them, -so one day I went down to find my home shut up. Do you -know where my father and mother are, Mr. Knight?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>“You have been wrong, Miss Wythburn,” said Knight, -gently, “so far as your parents are concerned. They have -been in London looking for you. I am glad to be able to -give you their present address.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, thank you, so much.” The Basket Woman could -scarcely repress her tears.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is not my place to lecture you, and I apologise for doing -so; but I cannot help pointing out to you that you owe a -greater duty to your parents than you can possibly owe to -strangers, even though the strangers are the very poor, who -greatly needed a friend. I quite appreciate the real good you -have been doing in Paradise Grove, but you know as well as -I that it ought not to have been done at the expense of the -happiness of your own father and mother.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, you are right,” she said, humbly; “but I think you -do not know all the facts of the case.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I know some of them,” he said; “for instance, that you -have the right to wear the graduate’s cap and gown instead -of the grey cloak.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I prefer the grey,” she said, brightly, rapidly recovering -herself; “and although my conscience has not been at rest, -I have spent the happiest months of all my life in Paradise -Grove. But I am glad you have seen Darentdale. Is it not -lovely?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is, indeed; it is almost as beautiful as our new place in -Wales. Are you going there with our people?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes; unless my father and mother object. I will -always take them into my confidence in future. I need not -tell you, Mr. Knight, that the thought of them and what I -have done to pain them has made me constantly unhappy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I can well believe that. I hope you will still be able to -help the people for whom you have made Paradise a real -thing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Nay, that is what you are going to do, if you do not spoil -your lovely valley with houses and factories.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope not; I think not. There are no tall, smoky -chimneys, you know, and there will be no noisy machines; -all will work cleanly and silently, thanks to the benign inventions -of the age. And every house has a garden attached -to it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, it will be delightful,” she said, rising to leave. “And -I will lose no time in going to see my dear ones now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She could scarcely wait until evening, but as she had promised, -she did so. The talk with Mr. Knight had disturbed -her considerably, and her thoughts had flown back to her -happy home life, and her pleasant college days. She would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>not give up her work, she resolved nothing should cause her -to do that; but she was glad, indeed, to be going to live, -though only for a few days, the old calm, restful life.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is all right,” she said, as soon as the people gathered -in the evening. “Your cottages will be plainly furnished for -you, and you will pay for the furniture, and add to it afterwards. -And, oh! it is a most lovely place to which you are -going. The sea is like silver and the woods are like Paradise—ah, -not such a Paradise as you know here! Now, I am -going to take holiday for a week; you will grant me that, -will you not?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, but mind you don’t stop longer than your -time!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, I will not. And now I must say good-bye, for I -shall be off before any one is up in the morning. I must -make the most of my time, you know; a week is not long.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She looks mighty glad about it,” said one to another, as -soon as she turned to go to her house.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, she does that. I think it’s right what they say; and -she ain’t really no Basket Woman!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not she! She’s a lady, if ever there was one, and that -I’ve said all along.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Before she could close her door a man presented himself.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I want to send to my wife, ma’am,” he said. “I’m going -to send her some money, and tell her to get ready to go with -me to this new place; but it stands to sense as I don’t -want all the neighbourhood, so to speak, to know my affairs; -and if so be as you’re too busy to help me, I don’t rightly see -what’s to be done.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What do you want me to do?” The manner of the -speaker was patient and sweet as ever, and the tumult in her -own heart was made to subside as she rendered the service -which the man required.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, I want a letter to go with the money, and I can’t -write.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, I see. Here is some paper. Now tell me what you -wish to say, and I will write it. First, take a seat, and make -yourself comfortable. Now, are you ready? Tell me how to -begin, then.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My dear wife.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I write these few lines to you, hoping to find you quite -well, as it leaves me at present; thank God for it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’ve had the skyattiker very bad, indeed, lately——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The what?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>“Sky-attic-ker!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! ah! yes; sciatica. Thank you; go on.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The skyattiker all down one side; but it is better now, -through a Basket Woman as give me some Holloway’s -ointment. Beg pardon, ma’am.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not at all! Basket Woman—ointment—yes; what next, -please?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope the children are all right, bless their little hearts.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’ve got some news for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Me and my mates are going out of town to live and to -work, and I want you to join me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So get things ship-shape with the post-office order what I -send, and be ready to come to me as soon as I send for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What next?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So no more at present from your affectionate husband, -John Sturman.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Affectionate husband, John Sturman. There it is, then,” -and the writer proceeded to blot the page and fold the sheet. -But the man looked very dissatisfied.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Stop a minute,” he said; “you had better put at the -end of the letter: ‘P.S.—Excuse bad writing and bad -spelling.’”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The letter-writer’s laugh rang out merrily, but she faithfully -added the postscript.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now for the address,” she said. “Have you a stamp?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The man afterwards confided to a mate that the thought of -going out of town seemed to have been “too much for the -Basket Woman,” for he had caught her “giggling like anything.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIX.<br> <span class='large'>A NEW MINISTER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>A church and congregation in Granchester were without -a minister, and had been for some time. If there -were not many of them, there were many minds among them, -so that it was not quite easy to find a pastor who met the -wishes of them all. It was unfortunate.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>The congregation became smaller and smaller, the week-night -service was so neglected that there seemed little use in -keeping it on at all, until at length it dwindled into a prayer-meeting -held by half-a-dozen men, whose one cry was, “Send -us a man,” one good brother on one occasion solemnly -adding, “and let him come clothed and in his right mind.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And at length he did.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Every one was surprised that the Rev. George Collinson -accepted the invitation, for there was no doubt that he was a -very superior man. He preached one Sunday, and everybody -was so delighted that they gave him a unanimous invitation -that same evening to become their pastor. And he, without -asking for time to consider, took them at their word and -accepted at once.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Collinson knew very well what he was doing. He was -young and full of vigour, and desired earnestly the work of a -minister. He enjoyed the idea of occupying a difficult post, -and coveted anything rather than ease or inactivity. He -foresaw the chances for work there were in Broad street, and -he was ready and even eager for the fray. The church that -had secured him was no longer to be considered unfortunate. -He was a man with a purpose, and this purpose was to live -and work almost entirely for the young. His few years of -ministry had convinced him that this was the future work of -the Church. He had entered the profession with his heart -full of enthusiasm, and already he had been disappointed -almost to despair. But the formation of this Society of -Young Crusaders had reawakened his youthful interest, -and now he meant to devote all his powers to the service of -the young, and he began as he meant to go on. The adult -population of Granchester had many preachers, the young -should at least have one. So he told the men of Broad Street -who had invited him, and they at once saw that he was a man -of independent spirit, who formed his own plans, and executed -them without consulting others. He accepted the salary that -was offered him; but he had private means, and was, therefore, -not entirely dependent for support upon the church. -This fact, perhaps, at first contributed to his popularity, and -it certainly made it impossible for capricious people to starve -him out if they should ever desire to get rid of him, which he -hoped they would not do. The “welcome home” which he -received was a hearty one, and he commenced his work -auspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was a ready speaker, and his sermons were short and -practical. “There is always something to do you good, -though,” said the brother who had prayed that he might -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>come clothed; “and I find it helps you through the week to -have something to think of.” Whether his sermons cost him -much or little effort, no one knew; but there was one part of -his work about which there was no doubt.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Collinson told them at the outset that he would live -and work for the young.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You begin too late,” he said to those who sought his aid -for missions and refuges, and other efforts to save the adults. -“There is no hope for England excepting in the salvation of -her children.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, there are the Sunday-schools,” was, of course, the -answer, but this always brought a peculiar smile to the face -of the young minister.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He spent the whole of the afternoon of his first Sunday -at Broad Street in the Sunday-school. The teachers were -gratified, and they thanked him for his presence.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, do not thank me,” he said; “the Sunday-school is, -of course, a part of the church. This is, therefore, my -school, and I intend to be present at it every morning and -afternoon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Now this was quite a new idea; and the teachers were not -sure that they would like it. It had been a pet grievance -with them that their old minister was never seen in the school, -excepting on special occasions and by personal invitation. -They were never tired of speaking about this at teachers’ -meetings, when he was absent, and sometimes even in his -presence. They often hinted, too, at the lack of sympathy -manifested by the church, as if they were not themselves the -church, or at least the most important part of it. They -frequently declared that a minister’s place was in the Sunday-school, -and that his duty in this respect was too often -neglected. But all the same, when they were informed that -the minister intended always to be at the school, most of the -teachers felt embarrassed, not a few heads were shaken, and -there were many muttered hopes that he would not interfere.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But he did, and that very speedily.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At first he offered to take any class from which the teacher -was absent; and whenever he did so the children were very -candid and unceremonious in their expression of the wish that -their teacher would remain absent always. But the absentee -was invariably visited the next day; and if he had not -provided a substitute, or had only a trivial reason to give for -his absence, that teacher was sure to have a bad quarter of an -hour with the minister.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Then he adopted the plan of giving an address at the close -of the school, and the address was exceedingly like a lesson, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>for he had a large blackboard on which he wrote points to be -committed to memory; and he asked many questions, which -happened to be mostly addressed to the classes that knew the -least. After this had gone on for a few Sundays he called -a teachers’ meeting, and astonished the teachers by the -directness of his words to them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The most important part of the work of the church,” he -said, “is the Sunday-school, which ought, therefore, to be in -the hands of those whose whole hearts are in it. It is so -great, and of such infinite moment, that it deserves to occupy -the men and women of highest culture and talent; but it is -work which is best done by those who love it, for without -enthusiasm in the teachers Sunday-schools are a failure. I -hope you will not be offended—but in any case I dare not -hold my peace—when I say that in all departments of our -own schools there are some classes which greatly need -reform. There is a lack of discipline which is fatal; and I -fear that sometimes whole classes are dismissed which have -not had any real teaching at all. Now, my friends, this work -must not be left in incompetent hands. For my own part, I -tell you frankly that I dare not be a party to anything so -disastrous to the future well-being of this church. Let no -earnest teacher be discouraged; but let all who are not in -earnest reconsider their position. The first thing for us to -do is to form a Teachers’ Training Class, and let us also meet -together for mutual preparation of the lesson. What times -will be most convenient to you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The teachers, as a whole, did not approve of the minister -taking things into his own hands in this fashion, and some of -them ventured to say so.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We’ve took this school ourselves heretofore, and we’re -masters here,” said a man, his face flushing with anger. “If -the minister likes to come and visit us sometimes, and say an -encouraging word to us, why, we shall be glad to see him; -but I, for one, ain’t agoing to be dictated to.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Collinson made no reply to this, and another spoke.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is all very well to talk about training and preparation -classes, but few of us have time to attend them, for what -with our two week-night services, and all the things going on -in the town, it is not easy to take up two new subjects. I -think we do enough if we come to school Sunday after Sunday -and take a class, for the children are so bad that it is dreadfully -hard work to do that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the new minister had his own way.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is my school as well as yours,” he said. “I am at the -head of it, and while I wish to dwell in harmony with you all, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>yet, as I place a higher estimate on Sunday-school work than -any other, I am extremely anxious that only teachers whose -hearts are devoted shall attempt to perform it. We must -raise the whole character of this school; who will stand by -me in my endeavour to do this?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will,” said a voice; and every one looked in amazement -at the speaker, whose name was Stapleton.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XX.<br> <span class='large'>A TRICOLOUR CRUSADER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Ernest Stapleton blushed when Mr. Collinson -looked at him, and all the teachers of the Broad Street -School followed the minister’s example. For he was only a -boy, not yet seventeen years old, and he was not even an -acknowledged teacher, since he only helped with the library, -and occasionally took a class for its absent president. He -had been attracted to Broad Street by Mr. Collinson himself, -who was already known in Granchester as “The Friend of -all the Boys.” When they looked at Ernest this is what they -saw: A straight boy, rather tall, with well-developed limbs, -and a strong face, whose brown hair curled over a thoughtful -brow, and whose grey eyes met the gaze of the teachers with -frankness and fearlessness.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How that boy is changed!” was the thought in the minds -of several persons who had known him all his life. And, -indeed, he was; and the secret of the change was declared to -all by the little badge of ribbon which he wore on his breast—the -red, white and blue of Old England; the blue for -temperance, the white for purity, and the red for battle, or -endeavour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The very first thing which the Rev. George Collinson had -done on his settlement was to establish a branch of The -Young Volunteer Crusaders. It can scarcely be said that -Ernest Stapleton was a volunteer, for he had cost Mr. Collinson -some trouble and solicitude before he was finally -enrolled; but the new minister had loved the boy, and -prayed for him and sought him with wisdom and patience, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>until at length he was won altogether and entirely. The -effort had been made only just in time. The boy had been -fast sinking into bad habits that would have weakened and -debased him; already his sisters used his name in irony, and -declared that “Ernest had not a bit of earnestness in him,” -for he cared for nothing but smoking and drinking, and other -discreditable self-indulgences; but now, happily, he was saved, -and was showing brave qualities of alertness, endurance, and -good sense, such as delighted every one who cared for him, -and won from his friends the declaration that “No boy had -in him the making of a finer man than Ernest Stapleton.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Collinson looked at him admiringly when his “I will” -rang out in the teachers’ meeting.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, Ernest,” he replied, “I am glad to believe that you -will, indeed, stand by me, and help to raise the character of -this school.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, sir, I am not a teacher,” he said, “I am only a boy, -and I am almost afraid to speak before those who are so -much older and wiser than I am; and yet, because I am -young, and can look at all this from the children’s standpoint, -I should like, if I may, to express the hope that all the teachers -will agree with you, and have the training and the preparation -classes, and anything else that will make the Sunday-school -more helpful. You do not know how hard it is for boys and -girls to be right. Some fellows that I know, who belong to -the Crusaders, had a prayer meeting last night, and we all -prayed to God to give us courage not to pretend to be worse -than we are. We are bad enough, I know that——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The young speaker hesitated, and broke down, and the -most prejudiced old teacher in the room felt some sympathy -for him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Go on, Ernest,” said the minister gently, and the rest -cheered the boy with an encouraging clap. Presently he -recovered himself. “We are not good; we need a Saviour; -but many of us would scorn to be as bad as we make ourselves -out to be, and there are some of the ‘boys’ ways’ which -those who teach us ought to know something about. But -boys—the boys of Broad street—will be as bad and black as—because -it is supposed to be the thing—some of them make -themselves out to be—unless they are helped; and what I -want to say—and I hope you will not think me too presumptuous—is -this, that the old Sunday-school, as it is now carried -on, is not equal to the needs of new boys in these new -times.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, to be sure! What next!” exclaimed a lady -teacher; and one or two men felt as if a good horsewhipping -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>would do the young upstart good; but for the most part the -teachers knew that Ernest had spoken the truth, and though -his words had given them pain, yet they were glad that he had -uttered them, and hopeful that the result would prove -beneficial.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I, too, will stand by Mr. Collinson,” said the superintendent, -“and by right of the office with which you have invested -me, I venture to repeat Gideon’s words to his army, ‘Whosoever -is fearful and afraid let him return and depart.’ It is quite -true that the usual Sunday-school, though it has done splendid -work in the past, is quite inadequate to the needs of the -children to-day, and if we are not willing to do anything and -everything to bring ourselves up to date, we had better stand -aside and yield the work to those who will.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The scene which followed could not be other than painful. -One after another of the teachers resigned; and the resignation -of a few was accepted, while the discriminating superintendent -advised some to try the new plans before they quite -gave up.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was with an anxious heart that Ernest Stapleton went -home after the meeting. He was not at all sure that he had -not been wrong, and the author of much mischief; although -with the usual confidence of youth he had great faith in his -own opinions. Still, he thought that Mr. Collinson had -approved of him, and if so, there was not much to fear, for -though he doubted himself a little, he doubted the minister -not at all; so his courage rose as he passed through the gates -of his father’s residence.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He ran up the steps, whistling as he went; but on the top -one he sighed, and a fear which he had known before came -back to him. He was afraid that there was something wrong -in his home. His father looked dreadfully worried, and -although he knew that among his men another strike was -impending, yet even that was not sufficient, he thought, to -quite account for so much anxiety. And his mother—his -beautiful mother, whom he loved so dearly—looked sometimes -pale, and as if she had been crying. Ernest wondered what it -all meant, and feared that trouble was impending.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When he stepped into the hall he heard his uncle’s voice, -and that, too, he thought a little strange. Dr. Stapleton -had visited them very rarely until quite lately, but now it -was no unusual thing for him to be there once or twice in a -week.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Doctor came forward to greet him. He was looking -wretchedly ill and worn, but he had always a cheery word for -his nephew, whom he cordially approved.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“Well, Ernest, old boy, how are you? How are the -Crusaders going on? Is there much fighting at present?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Plenty of fighting, uncle, though we do not have a big -gun to accompany us. How are you? Have you come to stay a -few weeks, or will you run away directly, as you generally do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think my patients consider that I usually stay quite -long enough. I must try to get back by to-morrow evening. -How many boys do you number now in your regiment? -Three hundred? That is splendid. I hope they will all be -faithful.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly something has improved the boys of Granchester,” -said Miss Stapleton. “They are not nearly as rude -and coarse as they were. Mother and I were remarking it -the last time we went through the streets. Although it was -evening we did not hear a single boy swear. And that is a -thing that ought to be written in red ink among the chronicles -of Granchester.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You see, Mat, that these fellows are all capable of being -taught and persuaded, only the wrong teachers get hold of -them. The best lessons are not to be got in the streets; but -it is in the streets that most boys get their lessons. They are -a little mistaken as to what manliness is; but that is not -their fault. How should they know if they are not taught? -They judge by the men whom they see. They seldom have -the best types exhibited to them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They know something of their fathers’ masters, I -suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; but all their fathers’ masters are not like our father. -Many of them do not treat their men properly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You see, Uncle Fred, what Ernest’s tendencies are! He -is a Socialist. And he is a poet of the people! Think of it! -Ernest, you will let Uncle Fred see your last attempt. Here -it is, uncle. I made him give me a copy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton took the paper, and read—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in8'>“<span class='sc'>The Lower Orders.</span>”</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Who are the “lower orders,”</div> - <div class='line in2'>Not those who toil all day,</div> - <div class='line'>And for fair wages give good work,</div> - <div class='line in2'>As honest workmen may.</div> - <div class='line'>Such men are of the noblest</div> - <div class='line in2'>Who life’s rough paths have trod;</div> - <div class='line'>Faithful to wife, and kind to child,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And true to self and God.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>These are the higher orders,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The self-restrained and strong,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>Too great to yield to selfishness,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Too proud to do the wrong;</div> - <div class='line'>Who copy Christ of Nazareth,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And live and toil as He,</div> - <div class='line'>And claim their right as freemen,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Since He has made them free.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Men talk about “the masses,”</div> - <div class='line in2'>And call them “lowly born,”</div> - <div class='line'>But many are more worthy</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of reverence than of scorn.</div> - <div class='line'>Ah! some of wealth and place might learn</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of these heroic ones;</div> - <div class='line'>And well for dear old England</div> - <div class='line in2'>Were such her only sons!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>But of “the lower orders,”</div> - <div class='line in2'>Enough and hosts to spare</div> - <div class='line'>Has England for her sorrow,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And have we all for care.</div> - <div class='line'>The idle and the dissolute,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The cowardly and base;</div> - <div class='line'>Alas! for countries and for homes</div> - <div class='line in2'>That have to give them space!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>They are “the lower orders,”</div> - <div class='line in2'>Who practise low deceit;</div> - <div class='line'>The drones in hives of industry,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The loungers in the street,</div> - <div class='line'>The self-indulgent sons of vice,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The sullen and untrue,</div> - <div class='line'>Whose useless hands are stretched to take,</div> - <div class='line in2'>But are not skilled to do.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>There are no lower orders</div> - <div class='line in2'>But these—the self-made low.</div> - <div class='line'>Men are despised and scorned because</div> - <div class='line in2'>They choose to have it so.</div> - <div class='line'>Unworthiness, not poverty,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Alone supplies the ban</div> - <div class='line'>Which keeps the hand of fellowship</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of man from brother man,</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Cannot we lift the low ones</div> - <div class='line in2'>Up to a fairer height?</div> - <div class='line'>O! Love shall be the teacher,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And God will speed the right.</div> - <div class='line'>Let us go down in loving quest</div> - <div class='line in2'>These lowest ones to reach;</div> - <div class='line'>God’s heaven has room enough for all,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And His grace is for each.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>Dr. Stapleton said very little after reading the verses; he -simply congratulated his nephew, and advised him to continue -doing that sort of work; but when, after supper, the -household had retired, and the two brothers were consulting -together in the library, the Doctor spoke of the boy to his -father.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a fine thing to have such a son,” he said; “he will be -a help and comfort to you, Felix.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps,” was the reply; “but I am afraid of the boy’s -judgment. When he comes to know the truth about my -circumstances I am afraid he will turn against me. He has -strict notions of honour and truth, and I am glad that he -should have. But what will he think of me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“When are you going to tell him?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot tell him at all—and yet he must know soon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If I were you, Felix, I would take him into confidence at -once. He is a good boy and sensible, and his counsel may be -as worth having and following as that of any man of the -world.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But he believes himself the heir to a fortune. It will be a -terrible disappointment and come down for him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no! I think not. The young do not care for money -as the old do. And it is too bad to deceive him longer. Let -us tell him the truth in the morning. Who knows but that -he may be able to throw a little light upon the darkness?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will you help me to break the news to him before you -leave?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I will, and I cannot help hoping that good rather -than harm will come of it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ernest slept soundly, as a healthy boy should, whose conscience -is at peace, and he awoke the next morning in a most -merry mood. He opened the letter-bag, and made his sister -chase him for a letter addressed to herself, and then he -tossed his youngest sister into the air and caught her like a -ball, after which he took her for a ride on his bicycle, until -she screamed with delight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He remembered all this years afterward; for it always -seemed to him that this was the morning when he suddenly -grew out of boyhood into youth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When breakfast was finished his father sent for him into -the library; and as the boy entered the room, he knew that -he was going to learn something about the shadow which had -so long hung above his home.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ernest, my lad,” said Dr. Stapleton, gently, “your father -has some bad news for you, which it is harder for him to tell -than for you to hear, though it will trouble you greatly. You -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>are young, but you are the oldest son he has, and he has a -right to look to you for sympathy and help. You will not -fail him, I know.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The boy looked pale—it was such a solemn address for his -uncle to make—but he left his seat, and went to his father’s -side and stood with his hand on his shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is it, father?” he said. “Please tell me quickly. -I have known for some time that there was a trouble, though -I cannot imagine what it is.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you find your pocket-money enough for your needs, -Ernest?” Mr. Stapleton’s voice trembled a little, but he -tried to speak as cheerfully as he could. The boy looked -surprised at the question.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is now, father,” he said, “because I am more careful -than I used to be. Why? Has any one spoken to you -about me? Indeed, father, I assure you that I have no debts -now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, my son, it is I who have the debts. I am sorry to -tell you that I have had heavy losses, and that my riches have -taken to themselves wings and flown away.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You mean that you are not as well off as you used to be, -father? I have guessed that lately. But there might be -worse troubles than that, don’t you think so?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, my son, and there are. I cannot pay my debts.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then let us part with some of the things we have. I will -sell my pony and my bicycle, and anything else that I have. -We can sell this house and our carriages, and go into a small -place in the country, for, of course, we must not live on other -people’s property. If we cannot pay for things, they do not -belong to us, and we have no right to them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, Ernest, think of your poor mother.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is of my beautiful mother that I am thinking all the -time. Father, we could not let any disgrace touch her, could -we? There is no disgrace in being poor, unless we pretend to -be rich. You were rich once, so you had a right to seem so; -but now if the riches are gone, we shall be just as happy. Do -not doubt us, father; mother, Mat and I will not add to your -trouble. Be sure of that. Don’t become a bankrupt, father. -Sell everything, and let the money go as far as it will, and -then after a time we will pay the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was all easy and natural and simple to the boy; and Mr. -Stapleton was half convinced as he listened to him. “Perhaps -it will be best,” he said; “indeed, it is the more honourable -way, but for the disgrace of it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ernest opened his eyes widely. “Disgrace!” he cried. -“There is no disgrace if we pay people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>“Ah, Ernest,” said Dr. Stapleton, “you do not know what -temptations there are in such a crisis as this. I will tell you -what happened to me soon after I knew of your father’s -troubles. Naturally, I would give all that I have and more -to save my brother. One night, when I was wondering how -I could get money, a man came to me and offered me a -thousand pounds as a fee for doing something which both he -and I knew to be wrong. I hesitated; for I have always -endeavoured to act honourably in my profession; but I -thought of the use that thousand pounds would be in our -present difficulty to your father, and seeing me waver, he -placed the cheque on my table, and left me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Uncle Fred, I am so sorry; and I am sure father -would not wish you to do wrong for him, would you, father?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, Ernest, not when I am in my right mind, but a -drowning man will catch at any straw, and I don’t know what -I might have said if your uncle had asked me just then. But -that was before Mr. Knight’s visit. I do thank God for that -man’s faithful talk to me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I thank God for him also,” said the Doctor. “I kept that -cheque for about thirty hours, Ernest, and then, I am glad to -say, I sent it back. Had I not have done so I never could -have looked Arthur Knight in the face again, and what would -have been worse, my nephew would not have respected me -more.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you never could have done it, Uncle Fred, if it was -really wrong,” said Ernest.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXI.<br> <span class='large'>A HAPPY EXODUS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“Mother, are you really sure that you can forgive me? -It is so good to have a mother, that I feel as if I can -never be grateful enough.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are fully and freely forgiven, Mary. I have always -known that my child’s heart is right—it is her head that is -wrong.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary Wythburn had found her parents, thanks to Arthur -Knight’s assistance, and she was supremely happy. It was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>wonderful that they had not met before; but there is no -place where it is so possible to lose one’s self as London, and -they had been within a few miles of each other without once -coming into contact. Mary had learnt many salutary lessons -during her voluntary absence from her parents. She felt -herself more than a year older, though less than that time -had elapsed since she disappeared from her home on the day -fixed for her marriage. That the marriage had not become -an accomplished fact she never regretted; but she would ever -feel sorrow and humiliation as she thought of her own -cowardice in not facing the situation earlier. But that was -all over now, and the new life, with all its vivid interests, was -that which of all others she would have chosen.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Knight will not let me go with his people unless -you give your consent,” she said; “and, indeed, I could -not myself go without it, for I have never been really -happy, knowing that I must be causing you pain and -anxiety.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You never ought to have set yourself up as a teacher of -others when you were so failing in your own duty,” her -father said; but it was the only stern sentence that fell from -his lips. “You shall go with these people,” he added; “and -if Mr. Knight will let us come too and help, as far as we are -able, in the good work, we will be very glad.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So Mary, who wept first for home and sorrow, afterward -cried for joy, and when the party of English folk went away -to settle in one of the loveliest parts of the north of mid-Wales, -the Wythburns all accompanied them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight had found the very place he wanted—a large -space of moorland and waste miles of land unoccupied, excepting -for a few farmhouses. The land was not in a very -high state of cultivation; but when, for the first time, he -stood and gazed upon it, his imagination covered it, as it was -to-day, with bright and pleasant homes and long bits of -garden-land, in which the people might learn the joy of -growing their own flowers and vegetables. The place chosen -was at the head of a glen, which led down to Afon Wen, a -small village on the shore. The place itself—five miles from -Afon Wen—was called Craighelbyl. There was a large old -house on the top of the hill standing in its own grounds, which -wore a very neglected and dejected appearance. It had been -left to itself for nearly a hundred years, and all sorts of interesting -and dreadful tales were told about it. It had belonged to -“one of the great families” years and years ago, and the old -sailors could spin as good a yarn about it as of the -sea itself. The owner of the Hall had kept a smuggling -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>cellar on the coast; and it was said that a long underground -passage led from the Hall to the sea. This man -had been an irreligious Englishman, who had married a -Welsh lady and treated her badly; and there were dark -stories of a crime once committed in the house, which had in -consequence stood tenantless for a long period. There were -not many things left in it; there was a little furniture, but it -had disappeared, nobody knew how; and if there did happen -to be a table or a chair in some of the cottages thereabouts -which looked as if it did not quite belong to the cottages, -nobody knew how it came to be there, certainly nobody -belonging to this generation. The last person who had occupied -the house was a farmer, but he and his wife had died there. -Another farmer thought of taking it, but there was no land -to be farmed, little but moors and rocks and sea, and this -man only spent a week there, and it was such a stormy week -as only this part of our country knows. So he soon had -enough of it, and he declared that the rooms were so dismal -that all the wealth of the Indies would not be payment -enough for him to stay. So, as there was no one to tempt -him by offering him such wealth, he left, and since then it -had been empty. Some stone had been taken away from the -place and used to make walls; and, indeed, sometimes they -had talked of pulling the house down altogether, for the sake -of the materials.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a happy thing for Arthur Knight and his people -that this had not been done, for of all his purchases this old -house, perhaps, pleased him the best. The ancient mansion -was to be put to highest uses, and every room in it was to -echo with the joyous voices of the young people who were -learning to be good citizens, and Christian men and women. -For educational and social purposes no better place could -have been discovered. It was itself a lesson in Welsh history; -and Mr. Knight had expended a large sum of money -in providing it with a good library, pictures, and a museum, -in keeping with its traditions. Round about this house the -new village had been planted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Knight hoped that there would be good fellowship -between his English and the Welsh, to the ultimate advantage -of both. He could not tell what the natives of Craighelbyl -said about him and his people, because he did not -understand Welsh; but he found them quite willing to work -for him, and it was very much through them, and because -any number of labourers could be secured to unite in friendly -rivalry with Englishmen, that the township rose so rapidly to -completion. It was fortunate for him that the building trade -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>was bad generally, and he had, therefore, no difficulty in -securing a colony of builders.</p> - -<p class='c011'>One evening some young Welshmen were talking over the -affairs of the nation. “We are on the eve of a change,” -said one, “when every man will have what is right and true. -It is coming.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And soon—forthwith, as you may say. At least, that is -my creed.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, we are going to have a change anyhow, for Mr. -Knight will bring his people down to the top of the hill next -Thursday.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thursday, is it? They have soon got the place ready. -Shall you take his offer?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And move up there to work? Yes, I think I shall.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall stay here. Three of us are going shares in a boat -or two. It is certain that the folk on Saturday half-holidays -and so on will come down here and want some rows on the -sea, and we shall make a very good thing of it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The distance from the “large house” to the shore was four -miles. The hamlet by the sea had only about a dozen houses, -and at first Mr. Knight was half inclined to buy them all up, -but even a millionaire has to be careful in regard to his -expenditure when he attempts such things as Arthur Knight -had done, so he left the place alone. The few inhabitants -were prepared to give the strangers on the hill top a kind -welcome, though, with true Welsh prudence, they would not -commit themselves to anything until time had been given -to judge the Londoners and see of what stuff they were -made.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Knight chartered a special train for the use of his -people, and there was a great crowd at Euston Station to see -them off. The poor have many friends, and there were some -pathetic leave-takings among them. Wales was “them -furren parts” to those who, most of them, had never been -five miles away from London. The journey was a great -event in their lives, but a pleasant one, too; and this new -emigration had much of the novelty and excitement of expectation, -with very little of the pain of an emigration of the -ordinary kind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When they had travelled rather more than half way the -train stopped at a small station, and the people were told to -alight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The master has thought of everything. At this place -is a substantial meal of sandwiches, bread and butter, and -tea and coffee, all at his expense,” they were told.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The born leader of men knew how wearisome the journey -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>might appear to some of the women and children to whom -the experience was the most novel, and that when their heads -and backs ached, and they got hungry, their courage would -begin to ooze away, and they would be half afraid of the new -life and regretful of the old; but this break in the journey -would cheer and refresh them all, and help them to complete -the remaining miles in better condition and spirits. It was -but a little thing, perhaps, but it was worth thinking of, and -it was like Arthur Knight to have arranged it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He himself met them at the station, with two or three -friends who were already domiciled, and who had each his -special part to perform in the new village. First, there was -the Rev. James Davies, the minister of the church, who was -entering upon his work with as much enthusiasm as Arthur -Knight himself; who would be the friend and brother as well -as the preacher, and who deeply felt the solemnity of his -position, for to him the care of the souls of these people had -been given. Next, there was Dr. Armitt, whose duty it would -be to keep the community in health, as far as in him lay, who -was to administer advice and medicine without charge, and -who was to perform the duties of a sanitary inspector, with -the right to prevent everything likely to affect the health of -the community. There was another important person, Mr. -Freeman, the manager of the trade department, at whose -handsome store-rooms the people could purchase all necessities -of food and clothing, and whose business was to be -regulated on co-operative principles. Besides these there -were a few men and women helpers who had prepared the -homes. By the help of Mr. and Mrs. Hancourt, the Basket -Woman, and Fanny Burton, the head of each family had a -card with the name or number of his house, for they had been -located beforehand so as to prevent confusion on their -arrival. It was evening when they arrived, and Mr. Knight -had a fire burning and a table spread in every house to give -it a home-like appearance; and, full of happy expectations, -he awaited the result.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Nor was he disappointed. When the train steamed in, -and the people sprang out of the carriages and looked around -on the scene of beauty before them, the pretty houses in the -little town, the fair sunset light on the hills, and the kind -look upon the face of their master, they raised a ringing -cheer, and the boys began to sing “For he’s a jolly good -fellow” as boys only can sing.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They were soon streaming down, and up toward their -homes, each party following their guide, and each naturally -somewhat curious. Very soon there were exclamations of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>delight and satisfaction—“Well, I never!” “Did you ever!” -“Ain’t it grand!” “We sha’n’t know ourselves here in these -fine places.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The men, a little incredulous, and half afraid that “things -were not what they seemed,” but that, somehow or other, -Mr. Knight meant “having” them over it, were sober in -their praises and cautious in their joy. And so were some of -the women, though most of them were in raptures.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Now rub your shoes,” cried one mother to her children. -“Don’t you know what a mat is for?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Another turned to her husband with quivering lips (which -he kissed) and said, “Jim, here’s a chance for us; we’ve never -had one before;” and Jim replied, “Please God, we’ll make -the best of it, old woman.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Here’s a lovely home, father; scrumptious, isn’t it? And -tea ready for us! Why, here’s a loaf and everything we -want to begin on. Isn’t it a splendid kitchen?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mother, here’s a bath. Well, I never! I thought only -gentlefolks’ houses had baths in ’em. The poor wasn’t supposed -to get dirty.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ain’t Mr. Knight a brick?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He is the brickiest brick in the world.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I’ll have a bath this very night. I wouldn’t go into that -lovely bed without being clean.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And look at the cupboards and the nails.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And, oh, what a lovely cooking-stove! If ever a man -deserved to be sent straight to heaven the master does!” -Mr. Knight happened to hear this last remark and was much -amused by it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I don’t want to be sent to heaven yet,” he said. “I -want to see how you get on in your new homes, and to take -care that you are able to earn something to put in the lovely -stove.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Law, yes, sir. I hopes you’ll live to be a ’undered, and -so we does all; but we’ve all got to die sometime, you know, -and you wouldn’t object to heaven at last, I suppose.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were two days for the people to enjoy before work -commenced on Monday; and the men and women had -time to visit each other, and offer congratulations, especially -in regard to the new factories in which they were to work. -There was no heart of them all so full of joy and gratitude -as that of Arthur Knight; but when Sunday morning dawned -over the little place, he felt, as never before, the great -responsibility which rested upon him. That which he had -been able to do for his people had been done for humanity’s -sake; but behind that motive was another and a stronger -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>one; and he knew, if no one else did, that it was all <em>for -Christ’s sake</em>. He was extremely anxious now that the people -should come to understand that, and should give the credit of -all that was good in his scheme, where it was due, to the -Christianity which some of them despised, and only a few -rightly apprehended.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They had been happily busy about their homes and in -their gardens, and had visited their future work-places with a -good deal of interest and curiosity, and they had swarmed -into the Old House, and examined their treasures there with -the greatest delight; but the church had not yet been open, -excepting to a very few. It stood on the side of the hill, a -conspicuous and beautiful object, bearing its name on its -front in letters which might be read at a distance—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<span class='fss'>OUR FATHER’S HOUSE</span>,”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c016'>and the people knew that on the Sunday morning it was to -be consecrated. Word had also been sent to every house -that Mr. Knight asked, as a great favour to himself, that all -the people—men, women, and children—would, for that one -morning, at least, go to church. Many of them wished he -had not; there was the inevitable question of clothes still to -be considered, and the men especially declared that they had -not the least idea “how to go on”; but good influences were -brought to bear upon them, Hancourt and his wife especially -putting it to them whether it was not worth while to endure -even a little awkwardness rather than treat Mr. Knight with -ingratitude and unkindness, and so, at length, consent was -won all round.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was an ideal morning. The sun lighted up the blue sea -in the distance, and rested lovingly on sloping hills and green -fields. A fresh breeze blew across the space, and fanned the -faces of the people as they stood in little groups, each in their -own doorway and garden. The men and women were so -proud of their new possessions, and so glad in the new -possibilities of their lives, that a touching tenderness, seldom -seen among them, was everywhere visible. Women stood -with their hands on the shoulders of their husbands and a -strange light in their eyes, and men, usually so rough that -the children crept out of their way, looked so kind because -they were so happy, that the boys challenged them to a -game and the girls lifted up their faces to be kissed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then the air was filled with exquisite music, for up the -hills and through the valley came the sounds of the Sabbath -bells. They had not rung before, and they came with a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>surprise to the people, who for a few minutes hushed their -voices and listened in quiet pleasure. And then, for a little -while, the homes were filled with the bustle of preparation, -and soon the green hill was dotted with ascending figures of -“young men and maidens, old men and children,” on their -way to “praise the name of the Lord, whose name alone is -excellent.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>One of the last to go was Fanny Burton, who had lingered -in case any laggards among the people needed shepherding. -She found several, and took them to church with her. “I -will wait for you,” she said; “we must not disappoint -Mr. Knight to-day. It is his birthday—don’t you know?—and -such a little thing as he asks in return for all the great -things he has done for us, we couldn’t be so base as to deny -him, not if we tried ever so.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And all the people found a home in the Father’s House. -The best places, if there were any best, were allotted to those -who had come in their working attire, because they had no -other. The children were not put away in the gallery by -themselves, but sat with their parents. The church was light -and bright and comfortable; the colours were harmonious, -and the arrangements simple and artistic.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A great hush fell upon the congregation, and then the organ -sounded softly, and the choir began to sing the first public -words heard in the new sanctuary, “I will arise and go to my -Father.” Next they knelt, and repeated together the prayer -which Christ taught His disciples; and lips quivered and -hearts throbbed as the old words, “Thy kingdom come, Thy -will be done on earth as it is in Heaven,” seemed to take new -meanings. Then the grand <i><span lang="la">Te Deum</span></i> rang exultingly through -the building, and linked it to the sacred edifices of all the centuries, -and the minister offered a short dedicatory prayer:—“Let -the glory of the Lord fill the house of God. Let Thine -eyes be open and Thine ears attend unto the prayer that -is made in this place. Choose and sanctify this house that -Thy name may be here for ever, and Thine eyes and Thy -heart be here perpetually. Here may Thy wandering children -come home to Thee, their Father; and here may they learn -to love and to keep Thy statutes and Thy commandments. -And here may Thy Son, Jesus Christ our Saviour, see of the -travail of His soul and be satisfied, because through Him -Thy children turn to Thee and are reconciled. Here let the -little ones call His name blessed. Here may the old men -find rest and peace in Him. And here may men and women -come to have all that is good in them strengthened, and all -that is evil cast out. From this place let us all go forth to do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>our work and live our lives in the way that is pleasing in -Thy sight. And so let this our Father’s House be the dear -home of all this people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The service throughout was bright and attractive and conducted -with great reverence. The organ was a good one, and -the hymns were sung to well-known tunes. The sermon was -short and very practical, and the children were not forgotten. -There was no inattention, no weariness anywhere; and Mr. -Davies was resolved that there never should be. He had his -chance now, for all the people were there, and he meant them -all to come again, not because Mr. Knight wished it, but -because they chose to come. The minister was not one to -talk about himself, and therefore no one knew how he had -agonised in prayer to God for some souls to be given him on -that day, spending a whole night in prayer asking for Divine -light and guidance, so that this great opportunity might be -used to its fullest extent. It was a rousing little sermon, -which called forth a feeling of gratitude among the people. -At its close there was silence for a few minutes, in order that -souls might be offered in secret to the Lord, whose presence -in His sanctuary so many people felt.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then Arthur Knight stepped upon the platform, and -gazed upon the faces, eager with interest, and beautiful with -feeling, of these people who belonged to him, and for whose -welfare he was passionately solicitous.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My friends,” he said, and there was a tremor in his voice -which instantly awoke a response, “I thank you for giving -me the joy of welcoming you one and all to our Father’s -House, a building which by prayer we have this day consecrated -to our highest welfare, and one which will be open -every day, so that any of you may at any time come in for -quiet and rest, in which you may make known to Him your -wants. I am not afraid of desecrating either the church or -the day, though I speak to you on some subjects which, perhaps, -hitherto we have not considered religious; but I know -it will not be easy to get you all together again, and I cannot -let slip the chance which has been given me. Mr. Davies -uttered a sentence which, if I had to preach a sermon, I -would almost take as my text—‘Every social reform that -starts at Calvary will be successful.’ I hope his words are -true, though, indeed, I am sure of it, for that is where this -started. Several years ago, in a foreign land where I knew -no one but the two friends with whom I travelled, one was -taken ill. He knew that he had to die, and he was afraid, for -death opened his eyes, and he saw a Beyond, a Hereafter, of -which he had been sceptical before. Neither of us knew -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>anything of religion, but we had all heard of Jesus, and I -remembered His death on Calvary, and the story of His -resurrection. So I prayed to Him, and asked Him, if He -were really living and able to save, to save my friend, and -make it easy for him to die. And we remembered some -words of His: ‘Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise -cast out’; and my friend asked Him to take him, and to give -him some assurance of His pardon and peace. And a most -wonderful change then came over the dying man; I think -that his eyes saw the King in His beauty, for his face grew -radiant, and his voice triumphant, and he said several times, -‘<em>He loved me, and gave Himself for me</em>,’ and he told us that -he was glad to depart and be with Christ, and so he died. I -think you will not be surprised to hear that I have never been -the same since. The Lord Jesus Christ has been a great deal -more to me than a person in history, or a great reformer, or -anything of that kind; He has been to me a living personal -Saviour and Friend. I started from Calvary, and -because He had died there for my sins, I felt that I -must give my whole life to pleasing Him; so I studied -the New Testament, which is the revelation of Him; -and I soon saw that the most acceptable thanks I -could offer Him would be to imitate Him as far as I could. -You know how, soon after my return home, my father died, -and his business came into my hands, and with it you, my -people. And my prayer became one you have all heard before, -‘Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?’ I think that by -degrees He has shown me. Because you were my own people -I wanted you to be good and happy. I could not bear to live -in my own large house with every luxury, and think of you, -in miserable courts, cramped for space, and denied most of -the things which I liked. I was grieved, but not at all surprised -to find that many of you had left off caring about doing the -right; that men and women drank beer and gin to make them -forget for awhile their woes and wrongs; and that only those -chiefly who knew the love of God, or who were gifted with -great strength of character, had power to resist the demoralising -influences that were around you. I soon began to -see that my duty was to make things better for you, and I -have tried to do it in the way that seemed to me the best. -Many of you have not had a chance, but you have one now, to -make your life a different thing altogether. The future is in -your own hands; for me I can do no more. I was a rich man, -but I am a poor man now. If this venture is to be made -a success, it is you, not I, who must do it. If you choose to -be idle, and careless of the interests of the firm, we shall all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>be ruined together. To-morrow you will begin work. You -know all that I can tell you of the great competition in the -markets of the world, and how articles that are badly -made or expensive will be returned on our hands. At my -father’s dying request I have made a change in our productions, -and henceforth Knight’s goods are to be of the first -class only. I am told that I shall end my days in the workhouse. -I am not afraid of it, because I trust you. And this -I declare, on this Sabbath morning, in God’s house—you shall -have a rightful share in all the profits that accrue from your -labour. Your houses can be in time bought by you, and so -can the business itself; and very glad shall I be if, on honourable -and just terms, we are able eventually to turn it into -a co-operative concern. There are two matters in regard to -you respecting which I am most anxious—one is work, and -the other is character, the latter being by far the more -important. There are certain things in regard to the manifestations -of character which are in my power, and this -power I shall exert to the utmost. I will not have swearing, -or drinking, or gambling, or immorality carried on in any -building or space that belongs to me. This is a law, and the -breaking of the law will be followed by instant dismissal. Of -that I am determined. But I pray you help me in this, by -voluntarily giving up habits which you know to be wrong. -And if you cannot hate sin, ask my Helper to help you; for -Christ knows what temptations are, and it is He only who -can cleanse us at the source of all our actions, the heart and -the will. We have no police; you must be your own policemen. -I trust to the public opinion of our little community, -and to the efforts of all good men among you, to keep -the peace. At present—and I hope we shall remain so—we -are simply a private family, with whom no one outside has -a right to interfere; and the affairs of the village will be -managed by a board chosen by you all.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No provision has been made here for three institutions, -which we all admit to be good where they are necessary; but -which, I hope, will not be necessary in our own village of -Craighelbyl—they are the poor-house, the hospital, and the -Sunday-school. There is no poor-house, because we do not -mean to have any poor. There is to be a compulsory system -of insurance, by which an income for the sick and the aged -will be provided, and which will be supplemented by a scale -of pensions to be paid out of the profits of the business. -I want every one to enjoy the blessings of independence. In -regard to the hospital, that is a splendid thing for people -who have not comfortable homes. But when we are sick it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>would surely be better for us to remain with those who care -for us rather than be taken away among strangers. Dr. -Armitt and Miss Wythburn will be glad to train some of -you young women who wish to be nurses, so that to any -home where sickness should unfortunately come a nurse can -come also if she be needed, and bring with her the requisites -for a sick room. Of course, if a fever should break out, other -arrangements would have to be made; but we will not anticipate -this. An ambulance-class will be at once formed, -and one of the rooms of the gymnasium is to be set apart -for its use.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What I have next to say to you will, I am sure, surprise -you. Our day-schools are to be as excellent as they can -possibly be made; but at present there is no Sunday-school, -though that is not exactly what I mean, for I hope there will -be quite a universal Sunday-school, but there is as yet no -special building set apart for it. If you desire a Sunday-school -on the old lines I will not oppose it. How can I when -I know how much of that which is best in England is the outcome -of the Sunday-school system? And our day-school -buildings will be the best that could be imagined for the -purposes of the Sunday-school, if such an institution should -be required. But if I were a father I would trust the religious -teachings of my children to no one but myself. The -home is the true Sunday-school; mothers and fathers are the -best teachers; it is in the family that the children should -learn that which is most important for them to know. -And I hope there will be little gatherings of neighbours -this afternoon, in which the right sort of schools will be -inaugurated. At the same time I am glad to give notice -that in our church there will be, every Sunday afternoon, -a young people’s service, to which all over thirteen are -invited.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“In regard to the church itself, will you bear with me -while I say a few words? Those of you who are Christians—and -I am most thankful that you are so many—represent, -no doubt, every denomination of the one great Universal -Church. Divided upon some points though we are, we know -that there is for us all but one Saviour, that one God is our -Father, and our great hope is that at the last we shall live -together as one family in one heaven. It is surely possible, -therefore, for us to worship together in one building now. -As you know, there is but one building provided in Craighelbyl, -and I hope that we shall never furnish material for a -division among Christians in this place. I am myself a Nonconformist, -as my father was before me. At the same -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>time, I honour and revere the Church of England. Ours is, -of course, a Free Church. Personally, I should like the -beautiful Litany to be used here, and much of the ordinary -service; but this I leave to be decided by the majority of -members of the church. I hope that you all—Churchmen, -Wesleyans, Congregationalists, Baptists, Methodists, or whatever -you are—will resolve, for the credit of our common -Christianity, to keep the peace among yourselves, and that -you will worship and work together for the kingdom of God. -The time has surely come for the establishment of one great -united Church, the members of which are resolved, if not -to end all strife and competition among themselves—which -God grant!—at least, to suspend all differences, and beneath -the flag of truce to labour for the suppression of the evil and -misery of the world. My dear friends, I congratulate you -and myself on the fact that we are leading the way, and that -the multitudes of Christ’s disciples will surely follow. We -are doing what we can, but we need help and guidance lest -we spoil our endeavour by mistakes and failures. This is -a day of great joy and thankfulness; let us make it also -a day of great prayer, that the spirit of wisdom and understanding -may be given to us. And may God bless us, -and make us blessings to each other. Amen.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Amen!” heartily responded the people.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was a sedateness upon the faces of the people as they -filed out of the Church; but hope and resoluteness were -visible there also. Many of them were beginning a new life, -indeed; and some remained behind to pray; and others went -to their homes with such joyful hearts that God must have -heard their song, if no one else did.</p> - -<p class='c011'>As soon as Arthur Knight reached the road, a young man, -who took off his hat and stood bareheaded, addressed -him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You have forgotten me, sir, no doubt; but my name is -Jones. It was I who threw the stone at you on the first -Sunday after your return to England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I remember you. I am glad to find you are here.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sir, I want to give my life to you. I suppose you are not -going to settle down with us here, because you have your -great work in the world to do. We do not like you to go out -as you do, alone. Oh, we know that God will take care of -you, and no harm will come to you; but sometimes you must -want a servant to do an odd thing for you, or some one you -know to speak to you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My dear fellow, no; I do not want a servant in the least. -My habits are far too simple, and my portmanteau is too small -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>for that. I carry it in my hand, and I stay with friends, so -that there is no expense.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; we know. But a dozen young men are going to -keep me and pay my expenses. I am just to follow you about, -but not to interfere with you in any way. You won’t know -that I am there unless you happen to want me. But I shall -be where you are, and I can let them know at home, here, -how you are and all about you. I shall be in the same train -and the same town. I shall hear you speak, and be near you -all the time. Don’t say No, please, sir; for we have all set -our hearts upon it. I am to do it for a year. I, who deserve -it least, am to have the honour first, then I shall go back to -work, and the others each take a turn, sir; please do give way -on this thing, and let us have our own will in the matter.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight was much touched.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not know how it will answer, but since you desire it -so much, we will try this plan.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you, sir; thank you! All the fellows will be much -obliged to you. As for me, the fact is, sir, I—I—I love the -very ground you tread upon!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXII.<br> <span class='large'>“GET ON, GET HONOUR, GET HONEST.”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Geoff and Sissie Hancourt were staying at Hornby Hall, -and Miss Tom Whitwell was having a splendid time -with them. She had been introduced to the parents of the -children, and when she heard of the projected emigration -into Wales, she begged that during the time of the removal -the children might be her guests.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will take as much care of them as their own mother -could,” she said, “and bring them to you when you are -settled. We have already an invitation to visit the place -with the horrible name—what is it? Craighelbyl. For Mrs. -Wythburn has invited Margaret Miller and me to see for -ourselves the working of the millennium which the new Don -Quixote is bringing about; so if you will lend me the children, -Mrs. Hancourt, I promise not to keep them or run away with -them, but to return them to you, whole, and in good -condition.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>The little which Mrs. Hancourt knew of Tom was enough -to assure her that her darlings would be quite safe in her -care, and she felt that it would really be a relief to be free -from the worry of them during that busy time; though she -found it difficult to part from them even for a week or two. -Tom, however, carried her point, and took the children with -her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a trying thing to be a mother, Margaret,” she said -to her friend, “and very bad for the emotional part of a -woman’s nature. Poor Mrs. Hancourt embraced those children -and wept over them until her hands trembled, and her -eyes were swollen, and she looked ready to faint with grief. -She kissed their hands and their faces, and I think she would -have kissed their feet if she could conveniently have got at -them. It is a mysterious sort of love which a mother has, -Margaret, but these children are darlings. They are asleep -now; come and look at them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The friends were walking in the Hornby grounds, and as -Tom uttered the last words she lifted her eyes to the window -of the room where she had left Sissie comfortably tucked -into the dainty little bed which she and her sisters had prepared -for her reception.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next moment a low cry of anguish broke from her, -and Margaret, looking in the same direction, felt as if her -heart froze with horror. The window had been pushed up, -and standing outside on the sill was the little figure in white -which Tom had promised to restore to her mother.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The child’s nightdress floated in the breeze, and she was -looking up to a swallow’s nest built in the roof, while -clapping her tiny hands to see if she could make a bird fly -from it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, God, have mercy!” groaned Margaret, with white -lips. “Don’t let the child see us, Tom. Run upstairs; but -do not startle her. Go into the room quietly, and hold out -your arms.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom flew up the stairs, and Margaret stood below under -the window, holding out the skirt of her dress to catch the -child if she should fall.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were three flights of stairs, and it appeared to Tom -that it took her an age to ascend them. She thought she -could not pray; but body, soul, and spirit seemed to go -up to God in one voiceless but impassioned cry of entreaty.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She could scarcely breathe when she reached the door; but -she opened it gently, and said softly, “Sissie! Sissie!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The child was too much interested in the nest to hear her, -and Tom felt suddenly as if she had lost her voice.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>A chair stood by the window; the little one had evidently -stood on it to gain access to the sill. Would she step back -to the chair now?</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sissie! Sissie, darling!” said Tom. But she was afraid -to go too near the window, for fear of frightening the little -one. What should she do? Had she better ring the bell -and rouse the house? Or fetch Geoff to call his sister?</p> - -<p class='c011'>Presently it occurred to her that if she went softly round -by the wall she could manage to suddenly clutch the little -form. And she tried; but Sissie saw her, and Tom’s heart -sank with dismay.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You can’t catch me, Miss Tom!” she said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And Tom opened her arms, and said, “Come to me, -darling; I have something for you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next moment Tom sank to the floor with the little one -in her arms; Sissie murmuring, in tones of contrition, “Poor -auntie! Naughty, naughty Sissie!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Almost directly there were steps on the stairs, and sobs in -the voices of those who tried to ask questions.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But when Tom sat up, looking dazed, and Mr. and Mrs. -Whitwell came into the room with white faces, Sissie Hancourt -was lying quietly in the little bed, with her eyes closed -as peacefully as if nothing had happened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret lifted her out and wrapped her in a shawl. “I -am afraid you are a very, very naughty little girl,” she said; -“and I am sure you must be scolded; indeed, I think you -must be punished as well.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I only wanted to look at the nest,” she said, “and I -holded tight nearly all the while. Geoff says there are some -young ones in the nest.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you might have fallen down and killed yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, I don’t want you to scold me. I love my Auntie -Tom the best.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom tried to take her, but she was feeling so weak and -giddy that she could not hold her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think,” said Mrs. Whitwell, “that we shall have to whip -you, Sissie. See how white Auntie Tom looks because you -frightened her so much.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t be frightened, Auntie Tom; I won’t hurt you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You had better take her in hand,” said Mrs. Whitwell to -her husband. It was not the first time that she had passed a -refractory and difficult child over to the same management.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Go downstairs, all of you,” he said, “and leave Tom and -me to deal with her.” When they had left he sat with -the child on his knee, and in grave tones began to talk to her. -“You do not want to be naughty, dear child, but you will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>make us all very unhappy if you do such things as that. -You are only a little girl, but I am sure you know what is -right and wrong, and that getting out of a bedroom window -is very wrong indeed. If you want to see a nest, I will try to -find one for you in a hedge to-morrow; but you must not go -and do what you like in this way without saying a word to -anybody. What would your father say if his little girl were -to fall from a window and be killed, and he should never see -you any more? And what would your mother do if there -were no longer any little Sissie? I shall be afraid to keep -you in my house unless you promise me to be good. When -you are put to bed you must lie still, and go to sleep, as other -little girls do, because, you know, you say your prayers, and -ask God to bless you; but how can you expect Him to do it -if you are so naughty? He looks at you all the time, and -takes notice of what you do; so you must always try to be -good and obedient. And you will in future, won’t you, -Sissie? Say you will; now promise me, there’s a dear little -girl.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was a beautiful expression of thoughtfulness on the -sweet little face that was upturned to his, and the child -passed her soft, cool hands to and fro over the bald part -of his head while he waited for the promise. She did not -speak for a moment or two, and then she said: “What a -big forehead you have got! It goes all over behind.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom took the child from her father with a hysterical -laugh, which soon changed to weeping. Then the little one -began to cry, too, softly and pitifully. “I will be good,” -she said, “dear Auntie Tom. Put me to bed, and I will -be a little mousie, so still, and never, never do it again.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom’s nerves had been dreadfully shaken, and for some -hours that night sleep was out of the question; so she and -Margaret had a long talk together of that which was really -uppermost in the minds of each. Margaret had been earnestly -desiring to confide in her friend, but had not -ventured to do so because she could not be certain of Tom’s -feelings. On this night, however, Tom herself introduced -the subject.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret,” she said, “you have not told me, as you ought -to have done, considering what good friends we have always -been, that you are engaged to my Cousin John; but I know -you are, because he has told me so, and I want you to -accept my congratulations. Nobody in the world will be -more pleased than I to see you two happy together.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is most good of you, Tom. Thank you very much. -I have told no one; indeed, I am not sure that we are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>really engaged; but it is true that he cares for me, and -I—he wishes us to be engaged, and perhaps there is no -reason why we should not be. Do you know of any, Tom?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not any, Madge,” said Tom, demurely, “because I know -you care for him too. Poor fellow!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why is he a poor fellow, Tom? Because <em>two</em> young -women care for him?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no! He is to be congratulated on that account. I -love him very much in a cousinly way; but if he wanted -me to marry him, which he never has done, I would not, -for I think it would not be right, since we are cousins. -But I call him a poor fellow because I know how worried and -troubled he is.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is he, Tom? I expect he confides in you more than in -me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am sure he does; but you need not therefore be jealous, -Margaret. Some things he could not tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you can, Tom, and I shall be most thankful if you -will. Does his mother hate me as much as she did? That is -a great trouble to me also. What would I not give if I could -win Mrs. Hunter’s good opinion! But I have no chance. She -avoids me as much as possible, and when we happen to meet -she will not look at me or speak to me if she can help it. -Sometimes I think I will break through all reserve, and tell -her that I will not marry her son until she wishes it, for I do -not mean to do so.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You had better not say <em>that</em>, Margaret. Aunt is very one-sided -and narrow in many of her notions, and as stubborn as -only a woman can be. John’s happiness ought to be of far -more consequence to you than his mother’s good opinion. The -one you can insure; the other you may deserve, but it is -doubtful if you will get it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are not very encouraging, Tom; but I do not despair, -notwithstanding all that you say, and I know, of Mrs. Hunter. -She will, perhaps, receive me yet as a daughter some day, if I -am patient. My grandfather often says that all things come -to those who wait, and I am only in a hurry for John’s sake.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret spoke the last three words with such tender -emphasis that the colour came into Tom’s face. She would -never tell any one of the battle which she had fought with -herself over her cousin; but she thought the victory was completely -won, and had spoken quite sincerely when she congratulated -her friend. The two talked together of John, and -when one was not sounding his praises the other was. They -both knew, though Tom more than Margaret, of the many -troubles that made him look grave, and caused him—and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>them too, for the matter of that—many an anxious hour. He -was doing the right thing by his men; he was cultivating his -land to its fullest extent and farming on the most scientific -principles; but at present he had been able to do nothing -toward paying off the mortgage, which pressed heavily upon -his mind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret’s dreams were often of what she would do if she -had a legacy—how she would help John without his knowing -who did it, and change his losses into successes. But her love -was able to do so little to express itself; and her faith was -so sorely tried when she saw that he was not happy, that frequently -she was not the bright Margaret which she knew she -ought to be.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When she returned from her visit to Hornby Hall she found -her grandfather had been thinking of John Dallington also.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You will not be a penniless wife, Margaret,” he said; “and -that reminds me that I have never shown you our treasure-trove, or, to put it as I ought, your treasure-trove, for really -it all belongs to you. You will not be surprised to hear that -our bank is in the house, for I have told you so already. That -was one of the promises which I had to make to Captain -Dallington—namely, that I would keep in the house a certain -iron box which he gave into my charge. I often wonder why -he did this; he was a sensible man in many respects, but he -had some of the most peculiar and eccentric ideas. And the -money which I was to use for your wants, and in order to -keep a comfortable home for you, is in the house. Would -you like to look at it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should very much, indeed, Graf. Is it a heap of shining -sovereigns, such as you read of in books?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Come with me, and you shall see. I wish we could give -some of it to Mr. Dallington; but he would not take it, of -course, unless he had to take you with it; and even then, -though there is enough for you and your children, there is not -enough to buy back a farm or an estate, and I am afraid there -is nothing we can do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>As he was speaking, Mr. Harris led the way to his own -room, and with a key which he took from his pocket he opened -a drawer, from which he took another key. Then he removed -a table and inserted this second key—a very small one—into -a hole in the wall. A door flew open, and all that Margaret -saw was another key, and a plaster wall in front. Mr. Harris -touched a spring, and the wall slid back, and then a box was -discovered. The opening of this box was watched with considerable -interest by Margaret, for she, who wanted nothing -for herself, wanted much for the man whom she loved. It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>was a deep iron box, and when it had in its turn been -unlocked she saw the gold she had dreamed of—a great pile -of it, and of notes, at the sight of which she burst into a low -laugh.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Here is enough for John’s needs,” she said. “Oh, Graf, -dear, we must contrive for him to have some of it, because, -you know, it belongs by right to him; for if Captain -Dallington had not made that will, John, who is heir, must -have had it all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret took some of the shining pieces almost caressingly, -for she thought of the beneficent power there might be -in them, and was resolved that she would get Mr. Harris to -set his mind to the problem which often troubled her—how to -help John without offending him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How much of this do we use every year, Graf?” she -asked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very little, indeed,” was the reply, “for I have a source -of income which prevents me from using a penny of this -money on myself. All this you will know of some day, for -my will is made, and all that I have, as well as all that Mr. -Dallington had, is left to you. You will never be a rich -woman, though, Margaret; and I hope you will be content to -let Mr. Dallington fight this battle of limited means -himself. I am an old man now, and I have learnt a few things -in my life, and one is that if a battle be fought nobly, even -though one’s antagonist be ignoble, the result is beneficial to -a real, true man. John Dallington’s great trouble is that he -wants more money than he has. He must learn either to do -without it or to get it. That is the daily worry which is -spoiling many men’s lives; but John is made of stuff too -good surely to let it spoil his. Why does he not sell some of -the land, and live on what is left?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sell the land, Graf? Sell it, when it belonged to his -father, and his father before him?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, sell it; why not?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, of course, if you cannot see why not, I can scarcely -hope to make you,” said Margaret, in tones which showed that -she was offended.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris smiled as he went into the shop to serve a -customer; but he believed that Margaret felt, as he did, that -lack of money, so long as the absolute necessaries of life -could be secured, ought not to be considered the great -affliction which many people seemed to consider it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The customer proved to be Dr. Stapleton. It was a strange -thing that the only person taken into the doctor’s confidence -was this man, whom he often heard spoken of as an irreligious -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>man who had “never been converted.” He had been -thus spoken of on this very day, and the doctor had irritably -replied that he hoped he never would be, for it would be a -great pity for Harris to be changed into the sort of thing -that many were who believed themselves undoubtedly converted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The shopkeeper threw open the door of his little sanctum, -and the doctor passed through.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have not much time to spare,” he said, “but I wanted -to tell you that my brother will do the thing which you -advised—not because you advised it, though, but because he -has a son. Do you know anything of the Young Crusaders?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course I do. My Margaret and Miss Tom Whitwell -had the honour of originating that movement.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, my brother’s eldest boy, Ernest, is one of them. -He is the finest boy, handsome to look at, and grand to trust -in. There was a scene to be remembered the other day. -Felix told the lad of his trouble, and he at once seemed to -comprehend it all. He told his mother and his sisters more -than they had guessed before, and then—it was the strangest -thing—he knelt down and prayed to God to give them all -courage to do the right. I would have called him a prig, -but he isn’t one; he is a real, frank, manly Christian, such -as we all ought to be. It seems a pity that the young are so -much better than the old. But Ernest Stapleton is splendid. -He said that he had seen a pretty little cottage, large -enough to hold them all and one young servant, in a village -two miles from Granchester, which was to be had for £20 a -year. He asked them where would be the hardship, really, -if they went there to live, and he and his father did the best -they could with the business, and made it firm by the simple -means of reducing the family expenditure and taking nothing -out of it. He said that if they could fearlessly state the -reason for the change, all whose opinion was worth having -would think well of them; and that if they did not, their -consciences would be at rest, for they would defraud no man; -and that, with God’s smile on them, they would not only get -on, but they would get honour, and get honest, too. And -that boy is actually to have his way. The beautiful home -and estate, with all the pictures and carriages and the rest, -are to be sold; and my brother hopes that he can not only -save himself from bankruptcy, but pay everybody fifteen -shillings in the pound now, and the other five shillings in a -year. Ernest says, and no doubt he is right, that the -threatened strike will collapse, since the men will work for -the wages which he is able to offer them, for a master who is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>honest enough to act in such a way as that. What do you -think of that for a Twentieth Century boy, Harris?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should like to shake hands with him, doctor.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And so you shall.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIII.<br> <span class='large'>A CITY OF HOMES.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>It was Saturday afternoon at Craighelbyl. The sun shone -on the woods and the mountains and lighted the beautiful -blue sea, while the birds sang in the trees, and the flowers -smiled upon the banks as if they all cared for the London -settlers and were doing their best to make them happy. It -was an ideal day for a holiday, not too hot to be unpleasant,<a id='t207'></a> -but sunny and breezy together; and the people, as they stood -in the doorways of their homes felt themselves drawn away -to the objects of beauty on which their eyes were resting; -and many who had never thought of walking long distances -in London were preparing to go down to the sea, or up to the -highest point, in order to see the view.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first working-week was past, and the freshness of the -new conditions had gone with it. Everything that occurred -in those few days would for ever stand forth with crisp distinctness -in the memories of the people, to whom such experiences -were so new as to have been previously even -undreamed of. Such a week no one had known before; and, -the best of it all was, that it was not merely one week in a -life given as a great treat, and never repeated: it was the -beginning of a new life for them all.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a pleasure to work in such a factory, and I will put in -for the master the best week’s work I have ever done in my -life.” One of the girls said this at the breakfast-table on -Monday morning, and her father repeated it to his fellow-workmen -later in the day. It expressed what every one felt. -There was a unanimous resolve that Mr. Knight should not -suffer in his circumstances for all the good which he had done -for his people.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Bless him!” said a woman, who had worked for Mr. -Knight, senior, nearly fifty years. “Bless him! He will die -as rich as Creasote, or else I ain’t no prophet. Such a man -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>as gives his goods to feed the poor, and throwed up his -London places ’cause they was dens, and don’t mount no -ladder hisself without trying to drag us all up arter him; -why it stands to sense as he have a reglar gold-mine in this -world, and the cattle upon a thousand hills hereafter. As -for me I wish I had fifty pairs of hands, they should all rattle -along at railway speed before he should lose a penny for all -he has done for me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish I was cleverer at it,” rejoined a girl, who was -working near this woman. “I’ve never troubled to make -myself a first-class worker, nor I ain’t cared a bit about the -work except for the pay; but now I shall go to those evening -classes, and learn all I can, and see whether I can’t do credit -to Mr. Knight. I’ve never took pains before, but I’ll take -pains now, as sure as my name is Sarann.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Many other “Saranns” made the same resolution, and -Arthur Knight was touched to see how gentle all his people -seemed to become; and how they continued to manifest their -gratitude in a dozen ways, though many were too shy to -endeavour to express it in words.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was himself profoundly thankful for all that had been -accomplished.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But he was exceedingly solicitous as to the future. He -took into his confidence some of his helpers, and consulted -them as to the best means of meeting certain emergencies -which he feared would arise.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The men will work in their gardens or go down to the -shore, and perhaps be quite happy for a time,” he said; -“but afterward there may be a reaction, and I am afraid -their thoughts may go back a little regretfully to the public-house -bar where they sat and smoked and drank and swore -in perfect freedom. Perhaps if we cannot let them have the -beer they must have the skittles and the smoking. It is no -use to try to wind them up too high. You must help me to -find some ways in which they can all be amused.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am going to try to get them interested in gardening,” -said Mr. Wythburn. “Coming as I do from the country, I -have been able to bring with me a quantity of splendid peas -and beans, as well as cabbages and potatoes; and I have -talked to a lot of the fellows this week about what they can -do with their bits of ground. The soil isn’t bad, and in a -fortnight’s time there will be some home-grown cress at the -family tea-tables, which will be a sort of first-fruits, and will -encourage them to get on with the planting or sowing of -other things. I have undertaken to give practical advice on -the subject of crops to the community, and am not without -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>hope that digging will—for the present, at all events—quite -take the place of drinking.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Wythburn,” said Mr. -Knight, “and to you all, for what you are doing for me. It -will, I think, be a good plan to call in the aid of those who -happen to have been born in villages, and get them to lend a -hand to their more inexperienced neighbours.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have some creeping plants which will grow rapidly. -We shall put them outside the houses, and in a little time -they will cover the new walls with beauty. A word of commendation -from you, Mr. Knight, will go a long way to -encourage the men.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It shall certainly be spoken,” said Arthur Knight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the men were even less interested in the outside of -their homes than were the women in the inside. It was the -first time that they had ever had a real home in the lives of -many. And every woman took a pride in making the best of -what she had. The houses were plainly furnished—there -was nothing answering to a drawing-room so far as Mr. -Knight’s arrangements went; but there were two rooms -besides the scullery, and one of them, intended to be the -living room of the family, was large, light, and comfortable. -There was plenty to be done still in order to beautify the -places, and add to their convenience; and the women, especially -the young ones, were eager to use up their Saturday -half-holiday for this purpose.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The love of home is born with every Englishman, and the -women in whose hearts it does not live are untrue to the -traditions of their race. These women, who had been -brought into Wales by Mr. Knight, had forgotten many -things; but few there were who did not honestly try to -remember the old lessons of their girlhood, when the word -was passed round to them: “The places are clean and comfortable, -and you are expected to keep them so.” And, -therefore, on this Saturday there was an immense amount of -scrubbing and rubbing, of making dainty curtains and pretty -rosettes, of hanging up pictures and ornaments, and of -showing in a dozen ways how dear the new homes were -becoming to the hearts of those who dwelt in them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Craighelbyl must have another name,” said Mary Wythburn; -“something that means a city of homes; for that is -what our place will become.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is that already, thanks to Mr. Knight and to you, dear -Basket Woman,” said a girl, looking with loving eyes at her -friend. “My father is delighted at the thought that the -rent which he pays is to be really purchase-money, and that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>in ten years the house will be his own. Mr. Knight does not -know how he has saved father. Every Saturday he used to -sit and drink, and then come to our wretched home cross with -himself and every one else. To-day he is gone with Mr. -Wythburn to get two trees to plant in his own garden. Mr. -Wythburn said he could take the men where they could find -young saplings which they might transplant. Father is -looking for a sycamore and an elder tree.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The elder tree grows rapidly,” said Mary, “and perhaps -that is the reason why your father has chosen it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, the reason is that there was an elder tree in the -garden of the house in which he was born, for my father was -a country boy. I should prefer a birch; but perhaps that -would not grow, and the elder will. Miss Wythburn, please, -I am sent to you as a deputation. Some of the girls want to -know whether they may come and look-through your house -to see if they can imitate the pretty things which they are -sure are in it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, no! Of course not. What impudence!” The exclamations -were not Mary Wythburn’s but Fanny Burton’s, -whose face flushed with anger, and whose tones were those -of indignation. Mary laid a restraining hand upon Fanny’s -shoulder, and answered the request very differently.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will ask my mother; and I am sure that she will be -happy to show you the clever contrivances about which she -has been busy all the week. There is nobody like my mother -for the fancy-work which beautifies a home. I believe that -if she had nothing but an underground kitchen to live in she -would contrive to make it look pretty.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But, of course, she does not want everybody to copy her -ideas; it isn’t very likely,” said Fanny, grudgingly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, Fanny; it is not only likely, but certain, that she -will be glad to see her plans repeated in any number of -homes. My mother is a very large-hearted woman indeed; -it is worth while for you to know her better than you do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny was silenced, and Mary Wythburn went away to -arrange with her mother for the object-lesson in housekeeping -which some of the girls wanted. Mrs. Wythburn was exceedingly -amused. She was living in most simple style, -having taken very little furniture into the new home. But -Mary was right. No place could be other than pretty and -home-like where her mother was, and, though the house was -new and the furniture plain, there was something which made -it look altogether different from all the other houses in -Craighelbyl. All the girls who wished passed through the -rooms and admired or criticised their arrangements, and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>gentle hostess not only allowed them to examine the objects -which interested them, but explained how they were made. -This was greatly appreciated by the young housekeepers, -who were anxious to improve themselves and their homes.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Later in the season there would be introduced at -Craighelbyl some Saturday occupations and amusements for -the people if it should be found necessary; but at present -they all—men, women, and children—were too much -interested in making their homes to care for anything else.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The conveniences and beauties of the factory buildings, -where most of them had worked for ten hours a day during -the week, had delighted and encouraged them greatly, but it -was each man’s home that made him feel independent and -glad.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When the day was waning Mary Wythburn was sitting in -her own little room, when there came a tap at the door, and -Fanny Burton entered in response to the cheery “Come in” -for which she listened. A close friendship existed between -the two girls, who had been so differently educated but who -were now brought together in constant intercourse.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a beautiful evening. The setting sun dyed the -mountains and the sea, and lighted the stone houses of the -new settlement. Birds sang on the branches of the trees, and -the scent of some wild flowers which had been gathered in -the woods filled the room.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What a change from Paradise Grove!” said Fanny. “It -is not like the same world. To be here, with all one’s own -people, so near London, and yet so far away from its misery, -seems wonderful.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you think the people regret any part of the old life, -Fanny?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not yet. Perhaps they will, though; but surely not very -much, nor for long.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Listen! There is singing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! There are to be all sorts of little gatherings -this evening in the homes of some of the men. They are so -ready for Sunday that they wish to begin it overnight. There -will be no vacant places at church to-morrow. Everybody -who went last Sunday wishes to go again.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad of that, for Mr. Knight’s sake.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And the people’s sake also. This has been the most -beautiful week! People’s hearts are full of joy and gratitude, -and there have been a hundred home missionaries -among them, seeking to lead them to Jesus, and so make the -happiness more real and lasting. I don’t think there has -been a Christian man who dared to hold his tongue. I know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>of many for whom the new life has become an accomplished -thing this week.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am very glad. And to-morrow afternoon we are to -have a Bible-class under the beech-tree here. I hope it will -be a class of women only, or chiefly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will be, because Mr. Knight has a meeting for men, -and they will all go. The life of the master is more -eloquent than his words; but it is a treat to listen to his -addresses.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope the desires of his heart will be fully gratified, and -that he will never be disappointed in this place.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, he never will be, surely! for God’s blessing will be -upon such an enterprise. How many changed lives there -are among us! And my own is the most changed of all. I -have been thinking of the Sunday when you first took me -into your room, and talked with me, after I had offered up -my first prayer. I sometimes can scarcely think that I am I, -so wonderfully different is my whole life. And how much I -owe to you, my own dear friend. You have taught me what -real religion is; and I am so happy that no words can express -my joy and thankfulness.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Miss Wythburn caressed the girl, whose voice faltered -with emotion, and her eyes grew dim with tears.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“God has been very gracious to us both, and all,” she said, -“and we must show our gratitude by making other people -as happy as we are. I wish we could have all the East-end -of London here with us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid I am glad we cannot,” said Fanny; “but I -will not be selfish. That would be too wicked.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny thought of her own words half an hour later. She -had said good-night to Mary, and had turned at her own -door, to take a last look at the fading sunset, when a hand -was laid upon her arm, and a voice that seemed to bring -Paradise grove back upon the scene said, “Is there any room -for me here?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny turned, with a flush of anger on her face, and looked -into the eyes of Andromeda Jones. “No,” she said. “You -have no right here. You are not one of Mr. Knight’s workpeople. -Go away!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t send me away, Fan. Think of what you used to -be, and have some pity for me. I am sick of the old life. I -have walked all the way from London because I want to be -good, and have a home, and be saved like you are.” And poor -Drom’s voice died away in a sob.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is no room here for you,” said Fanny, endeavouring -to disregard the words which still lingered in her ears. She -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>did not want to pass on to this interloper the good which she -valued so highly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No room? It is a wide place, and not crowded,” said -Drom. “I am very tired, for the way was long and dreary. -You cannot mean that you will not take me in after all? You -have not been served so yourself, Fanny.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was very true. The girl of the slums had become gentle, -and refined, and very happy, all because some one had taken -her into a loving heart, and she had been dealt with tenderly -and graciously by the Divine Friend and the human ones. -She looked across at the western skies, with the beautiful -evening glow upon them and hesitated. One more would -make very little difference here, where there was enough and -to spare of all good things. That she knew, but did not wish -to remember it now. It vexed her exceedingly that this girl, -whom she had never liked, but who would always remind her -of the worst part of the old life, should have followed her -there, and should still be so persistent.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You have not brought any clothes with you, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, I had none to bring. There was but little work all -the winter for me, and I have been only able to keep myself, -poorly enough, too; there have been very few luxuries for me, -I can tell you. Oh, Fan, I am so sick of the old life. Can’t -you help me to a chance?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You know, Drom, this place is a private estate. No one -has any right here except by Mr. Knight’s permission.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, I quite understand that. But you might speak -for me, or get the Basket Woman to do it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The colour flashed into Fanny’s face.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The Basket Woman?” she said. “The lady of whom you -speak is Miss Wythburn.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I can’t help it,” said Drom. “You know we always used -to call her the Basket Woman. I suppose you are mighty -fond of her; she would do anything you asked her, and Mr. -Knight would do anything she asked him; so it all depends -on you whether I am to be sent away from the place like a -thief, or whether a home can be spared for me here. Anyway, -as I have walked more than twenty miles to-day, I suppose -I may take a seat on your doorstep for ten minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny began to feel ashamed of her inhospitable mood. -“Come in, Drom,” she said; “we must put you up somewhere -for the night. If you go back to London it must be by train, -and there is no train from here till Monday. We will make -the best of it. But I must report the case to Mr. Knight, -of course; it is for him to decide it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Fanny led the way into her own bedroom, which was plainly, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>but comfortably, furnished. The only thing in it that was -not absolutely for use was a text, framed, and hung upon the -wall. Mary Wythburn had given it to her, and Fanny wondered -sometimes whether the words had been selected that -they might preach a constant sermon. They were: “Freely -ye have received, freely give,” and they seemed fairly to stare -at her on this evening when she took her unwelcome guest -into her room. “I cannot feel glad to see her,” her thought -replied to the text; “but I will be good to her, because I have -myself received so very much.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“This is too fine for me,” said Andromeda, as she looked -at the white bed and the clean aspect of the little chamber. -“I can sleep anywhere, Fan, for I am so dead beat.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The more reason why you should be comfortable,” was the -reply. “I can make you up a little bed here while you have -some supper. And you would like a bath, wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The poor overwearied girl cried a little, and Fanny relented -and became kind; but she was almost too tired to eat or -think, and very soon she was fast asleep.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When she awoke the next morning the light was streaming -into the room, the soft winds were stirring the leaves into -whispers, and the larks were pouring down their music upon -the happy earth. Fanny was kneeling by the side of the bed, -with an open Bible before her, and a look of quiet happiness -upon her face. Presently she closed the book, and her eyes -and her lips moved as if in prayer. Andromeda watched her -most curiously, lying very quietly the while, and wondering -what it was that Fanny was saying, and whether there was -really a God who cared to listen, and who could answer -prayer.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The eyes of the two girls met as Fanny arose from her -kneeling posture, and seeing that Drom was awake, she went -swiftly toward her, and kissed her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why do you do that? You know you don’t like me,” said -Drom, but her face lighted with pleasure, and her heart beat -more quickly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I do like you—a little,” said Fanny. “I am not a -very affectionate girl, but I have been reading about Jesus, -and talking to Him, and after that I always feel as if I love -everybody.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Even me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I was not good to you last night, Drom. I am sorry for -it now. I am not naturally good and kind, like Miss Wythburn, -but I try to be. I am sure what you have done, in -following us down here, will please her, and I am not going to -be cross any longer. Will you let me lend you some clean -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>things? You and I are about the same height and size, so -you will manage nicely. See, I have laid out a dress.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Andromeda did not know what to say, so she said nothing -in response to the surprising kindness of Fanny, who went -down to make things right with her mother. This was not -difficult, as Fanny was quite the ruling spirit in the home, -and when their visitor presently appeared at the breakfast -table she was greeted kindly, and a plate and cup and -saucer were set before her. Indeed, Mrs. Burton was much -more pleased to exercise her hospitality than Fanny was, and -it was a real pleasure to her to take the stranger under her -protection, and show her the wonders of the new place.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Come to church,” said Fanny’s mother, “and I will introduce -you to Miss Wythburn outside. She will have a kind -word for you, I know. She has for everybody.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I have not been to church for a long time.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You will enjoy it all the more for that. Come out and -look at the view from our house. It is beautiful.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Indeed it was. Drom shaded her eyes, not more to keep -out the light than to hide her tears, which, for some reason -that she could not understand, were very near the surface. -As she stood thus, a pleasant voice spoke to her: “Good -morning! How did you get here? I saw you arrive last -night.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I walked.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Because I wanted a chance and a home.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And you shall have both,” said Mary Wythburn, placing -a kind hand upon the girl’s shoulders. “For Christ’s -sake I welcome you, Andromeda, and will find you some -work to do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh! are you sure that I shall not be sent back? I have -no home anywhere now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You shall have one here,” said Mary, confidently. “This -is a city of homes, and there is certainly room for one -stranger who desires to live a better life.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do desire it,” said Drom. And Mary took her to -church.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIV.<br> <span class='large'>A CHURCH IN CONFERENCE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The second rest-day at Craighelbyl was even more peaceful -and happy than the first, for there was less excitement -and a greater feeling of at-homeness in the hearts of the -people. Arthur Knight and his friends wondered very much -whether the response to the invitation of the church bells -would be as universal as before; but it was. At the -appointed time groups of neighbours, with their families, -were seen wending their way to the Father’s House with one -accord. The people did not go, perhaps, from the highest -motives. Can it be said that all the members of any congregation -do? But so much were they impressed with the -great kindness and good feeling of the master, that they, one -and all, were trying to keep as right as they could, and many -of them, knowing their own weaknesses, were thankful for -the strength and help which they received from joining in the -hymns and listening to the sermon.</p> - -<p class='c011'>This notable Sunday was commenced with a communion -service. The invitation was given to “all members of -churches who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, and -consider His laws of life and conduct binding upon them.” -And a large proportion of those who filled the building went -forward. This service was short and solemn; it was a time -of reconsecration to many, and it prepared them for what -was to follow at the close of the day.</p> - -<p class='c011'>After the evening service those who had joined in the -communion service in the morning were requested to remain -behind in order to attend the first church meeting, and, -indeed, to form the church itself. The church was formed -accordingly, and on a very simple basis. The following was -the creed:—</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven -and earth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ the Redeemer of the -world, as my Saviour and Law-Giver.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Revealer, the Enlightener, -and the Comforter.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I take as my rule of life the teachings of the Lord Jesus -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>Christ, believing that His laws are binding upon His disciples, -and assured that He who lived for thirty-three years among -men has raised no impossible standard of excellence and -brotherly love in the Sermon on the Mount, and the other -words of His placed on record in the gospels.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>This confession was inscribed in a book, and those who -were prepared to subscribe to it wrote their names beneath.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At the close of this ceremony the minister, the Rev. -James Davies, offered a dedicatory prayer, and the people -sang, on their knees, the solemn and significant hymn,—fit -to voice the faith and feelings of those who are resolved to -consecrate themselves entirely to God, and to do His will, -“the Lord being their Helper”—the hymn composed by -Gregory the Great, somewhere between the years 540 and -604, and translated in 1627—and as good for the new time -as the old—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And lighten with celestial fire.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>After the hymn, Mr. Davies gave a short address on the -creed to which they had given their adhesion, and the resolution -contained in the last clause of it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the people would not leave until Mr. Knight had -spoken, and he was ready with a few words.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dear Friends, you know, and I am sure many of you -share, my belief, that Christianity is a life, and that all real -discipleship is eminently practical. You have declared, by -adding your signatures to this book, that you mean to live -up to your faith. I think you understand that my heart’s -desire and prayer to God is that our little community shall -be strictly governed on New Testament Principles, and, -according to the laws of the New Kingdom which Christ came -to set up in the world. I believe that those who have entered -this kingdom, and who live in communion with its Head, do -receive daily enlightenment from Him who is the Light of -the World, and therefore I believe that the true rulers of men -must be those who are ruled by Jesus. Now, I ask you, the -members of Christ’s Church, to take upon yourselves the -responsibility of the management of this community, and to -govern it according to the will of your Master, as revealed in -the New Testament, and in the events and progress of these -times. You surely know the right; <em>do it</em>, and, as far as you -can, see that others do it also. I invite you to become during -the next week a church in council; to consider certain things -which relate to the well-being of the community; to decide -what, if any, by-laws shall be made and enforced; to appoint -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>an executive committee; to settle certain sanitary, educational, -and other matters; and generally to undertake the -responsibilities of our little State. You can govern in your -own right, which I hereby commit to you; or you can, if you -prefer to do so, submit your suggestions to the whole society. -In a little while, perhaps, we shall discover that the best way -to rule will be to have a number of men and women chosen -and elected by the people; but at present I ask you to -appoint a committee of, say, twenty men and women, who -shall prepare and propose, not to the community, but to -the Church, certain resolutions touching the interests of -us all. This will be your first work to-morrow. I do not -propose to be on this committee, nor to interfere with it -unless it should become absolutely necessary, but to leave the -management of affairs in your own hands. You know better -than I who are the wisest among you. I hope you will -choose these, and ask them to serve you, and that they will -gladly do so to the best of their ability. But, dear friends, -do not forget that you can legislate for our little world -as well as our own small church; and that it will depend very -much upon your treatment of those outside the church -whether or not they are attracted to Christianity. May you, -therefore, be guided in all things by the spirit of love, fairness, -and righteousness; and may God give you the wisdom -which you require! It is for you to show yourselves disciples -of the Lord Jesus Christ, and to win others to Him by your -unselfishness, your consideration of others, and your goodness -of heart and life. If you are true to your Master we -shall have reason to rejoice in our Craighelbyl life. This is -a great trial place; it is a test of the real worth of Christian -principles; everything depends upon your faithfulness to -Him. I hope you will hold your deliberations here, in -this sacred place, and that no spirit will be exhibited contrary -to His Spirit, and no laws enacted but those which He -would sanction.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next evening the church again assembled.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first thing was to appoint an executive committee, -numbering about twenty. Mr. Knight and the minister -asked to be allowed to stand aside excepting as they were -needed. Dr. Armitt, a Christian man of great ability and -kindliness, was first elected; then Mr. and Mrs. Wythburn -and their daughter; next Mr. and Mrs. Hancourt, but the -latter excused herself on account of her domestic duties. -Fanny Burton was asked to become a member, and she consented; -and then a dozen of the working men of the -community, who were known to be wise and honourable men, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>in equal proportions of young men and old, were asked to -serve; and the business before them was at once commenced.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first question which was settled affected the age at -which the children of the town should leave school. Two -evenings were occupied in discussing this; but it was eventually -decided that the children were to remain in the -ordinary school until they were twelve, and that two -supplementary years were to be added, during which half -the school day—which was to be extended to seven hours—should -be spent in the ordinary and half in the technical -school.</p> - -<p class='c011'>This involved considerable self-denial on behalf of the -parents; but one man enthusiastically declared that at -Craighelbyl the heroes and heroines of the future were to be -born and trained, and then sent forth into the world to take -the highest places everywhere, and teach other men to copy -the example of Knight’s own town. It was worth while, he -argued, for fathers to manage without the earnings of their -children when such issues as the reformation of the world -depended upon it. And although some of his neighbours -laughed at his “tall talk,” they decided that fourteen school -years were none too many for the children of Craighelbyl.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next matter settled was a law that all young people -should pay into a fund to provide them with an income in -old age, and that a savings bank belonging to Knight’s -business should be at once established, in order that some -provision should be made for sickness.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And yet another law was passed, that if any man or woman -should tempt a child to take intoxicating drink, he or she -should be asked to at once quit Craighelbyl.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Another excellent resolution was passed affecting the -women who were employed in the factories. A young -Crusader introduced the subject in words that went directly -to the point. “Most men,” he said, “are jealous of the -positions that women are making for themselves, and this -feeling renders us unjust. They work as many hours as men, -and always for less wages. If they do the same work why do -they not have the same money? Many masters would -probably give them the same, but for the knowledge that in -so doing they would displease their men, who have always -been content that women should labour under this disadvantage. -They do work often that men might do, we say, -and they are not to be encouraged in it. But how many -factory lads are there who are chivalrous enough to prefer to -keep their sisters? How many fathers who object to the -money which their daughters earn and bring home to pay for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>their board and lodging? Yet we are full of complaints that -factory girls do not make good wives. How in the world are -they to make good wives when they are at work all day? They -ought not to be expected to work as many hours as we do; -and I beg to propose that all who are willing shall sign a -petition to Mr. Knight, asking him to make a woman’s -working day in Craighelbyl two hours less than a man’s. -(Murmurs of dissent were heard.) Nay, with such helpers of -womanhood as Miss Wythburn and her assistants we may be -quite sure that the women and girls would turn those two -hours to good account, and that in the end, we, the men of -the place, will be better off for the change. Of course it is -all very well for us to pass this resolution; you say Mr. -Knight will be the only loser by it. But the women would -not be willing for him to lose, neither would a man among us. -What I mean is that we should offer to work one hour a day -longer for the same wages, and also that heads of households -should be willing to take a little less money for the ‘keep’ of -daughters or sisters; or, if that does not answer, that every -man, who is a man and deserves the name, should pay into a -fund in order to make this matter straight. Why, you know -it is only of late years that women have been expected to -earn their own living, and it is only because the men have -grown more feeble and less gallant, less chivalrous, less -manly. Here at Craighelbyl we have a chance to show that -we at least are made of different stuff from many of our -fellows. Let us set the example of putting this women’s -question upon another basis.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>In consequence of this resolution the meeting had to be -adjourned, and two evenings were given to the discussion of -the subject. Eventually, however, it was agreed to ask Mr. -Knight to make the women’s day an hour less than the men’s, -and to keep their wages at the same rate as before, and to -assure him that in Craighelbyl there would be enough -volunteers among the men to prevent his having any loss -from the change.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And it may be safely said that no action of the Craighelbyl -Church in conference created such a sensation throughout -England and Wales as this.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXV.<br> <span class='large'>THISTLES OR GRAPES?</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“Are there any lodgings to let in Darentdale?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The village post-office closed early; and the postman -had just called, in his curious red cart, drawn by a gaunt -horse that was celebrated for getting over the ground -quickly, and, having received the bag, was hastening away to -the nearest town. The postmistress, an active woman who, -having a paralysed husband, needed all her activity, had -come to the door to look after him, when a stranger arrived -with a letter. “Too late?” he asked; and she replied “Too -late!” and was about to go in and close the door, when his -other question arrested her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Now, it happened that Mrs. Orley had been thinking only -that afternoon how well she could spare her best parlour and -the bedroom over it, if by doing so she could earn an honest -pound or two. She knew that in many villages there had -been inquiries for lodgings, and wondered that none of the -inquirers came her way—and here stood one before her, as if -in answer to her thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Mrs. Orley was a wary woman, and the very coincidence -of her thought and his appearance created a doubt in -her mind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Lodgings?” she said, “No, I never heard of anybody -who lets lodgings in this village.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No? Now, that is a pity, for a prettier village does not -exist in England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Maybe you’ve seen all the others. I haven’t, so I don’t -pretend to say. ’Tis pretty enough for us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And healthy, I suppose?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; we live as long as most folks, especially in these -days, when the houses are better than they used to be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, I should like to stay here for a week or two, and I -wouldn’t mind paying fairly. I have taken a fancy to the -place. I like the undulations and the woods; and I think the -squire’s house is very pretty. But I suppose it is no use to -stay longer. You know everybody. I have always found -that a postmaster is the best person in a place of whom to -make inquiries, so if you say there are no lodgings, I must go -on to the next village.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“How much did you want to pay? I have a sitting-room -and a bedroom. I wouldn’t mind obliging you if we can -come to terms. Would you like to look at the rooms?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should,” said the stranger, with alacrity; and no sooner -had he seen them than he declared that they were exactly -what he wanted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Make me an offer,” said Mrs. Orley.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall not give much trouble,” said the stranger. -“Would a pound a week satisfy you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I don’t want to hurt you,” said Mrs. Orley; “I will oblige -you if you like for a pound a week.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>If she had mentioned a sum, it would have been half that -amount. But the stranger appeared pleased, and soon -settled down, giving his name as Samuel Smart. Mrs. Orley -decided that he was an author, for he was always writing. -She was not surprised at his coming to Darentdale, for she -knew that a good deal had been written about the place, and -no doubt this man was making up a story in which Darentdale -would figure to advantage. So, being a kind-hearted -woman and very fond of an innocent bit of gossip, she told -her lodger many interesting things about the inhabitants of -the village. She offered to introduce him to the parson and -the squire, but he declined her services in this respect, and -only made a few acquaintances on his own account. He -bought a good many books during his stay. He had a list of -those which he wanted, and asked for them one at a time of -Mr. Harris. He had none in stock, but could always get the -volume in a day or two; so there was much coming and -going between the bookseller and the customer, and however -busy with his pen the stranger might be, he had plenty of -time to spare for a talk with him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He interests me exceedingly,” he said to Mrs. Orley; and -she told him all she knew of Margaret and her grandfather. -“Miss Miller is much more interesting than the old man,” -said the postmistress; but Mr. Smart did not seem to think -so, and she set him down as a confirmed old bachelor, with -very poor tastes and little knowledge of beauty. Margaret -was a great favourite of hers, and she was never tired of -talking of her; but only once did she succeed in arousing -anything like feeling in Mr. Smart. And that was when -she had done something which she certainly ought not to -have done.</p> - -<p class='c011'>For, of course, Mrs. Orley had sworn before a magistrate -that she would regard as sacred all letters that passed -through her hands, and she did not doubt that letters included -postcards; and yet one morning she not only read -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>the whole contents of a postcard herself, but actually took -the card to her lodger, and he read it too.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a very insulting postcard, written anonymously, -and addressed to Margaret Miller.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Read this, sir,” she said, handing it to him with the -contents side up, and he read it before he turned it and saw -the address.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Orley was frightened; she did not think her lodger -could exhibit so much passion. “A coward!” he said, -between his teeth, “and, of course, a woman. Men are bad -enough, but no man could do such a mean thing as that. It -takes a jealous, spiteful woman to insult another woman by -means of an anonymous postcard. Let us throw the thing -on the fire.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Orley snatched it away in alarm. “It is as much as -my place is worth not to deliver it,” she said, “and I’ve just -bethought myself that I ought not to have shown it to you; -not that the envious thing who wrote it cares how many -people see it; it is put on a postcard on purpose. But I don’t -think it will hurt Miss Miller very much. Her lips will -tremble a little when she reads it, and she will ask herself if -it contains a lesson that she ought to learn and benefit by, -and will read it again to see, and then she will burn it and -try to forget the unkindness of it. That is her way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And a very good way, too,” said Mr. Smart, more gently, -as he put on his hat and went out.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Orley watched him a little after that; but she could -never discover that he took the slightest interest in Margaret -Miller, or ever spoke to her, or even looked at her if she -happened to pass him in the street.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He stayed at Darentdale three weeks, and when he left he -asked his hostess to accept an extra pound, which he declared -was only her due, because he had been so much more comfortable -than he expected.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He had appeared much interested in the scenery, the place -and people, as well he might be, for there was another village -beside Craighelbyl in which the summer passed ideally; and -it was Darentdale, where all were trying to make life as joyous -as God intended it should be. It is one thing to make a great -effort of good work in order to float a scheme, it is quite -another to keep it going when the first enthusiasm has died -out. The little homes among the green were inhabited by no -stronger people than the rest of the world; but their friends -were far-seeing and patient, and exceedingly solicitous that -there should be no failures. It was known that many towns -and villages had followed when Darentdale led the way; and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>it could be said of more than a few places that all that man -could do to prevent sin and misery was being done in their -locality. Some complaints, indeed, were made that there was -danger of a narrowing of interests; but this was scarcely -true. A farmer who puts forth all his powers to keep every -inch of his own land in good condition is yet quite able to -look at his neighbours’ farms, and even, by means of the -Press, to cast a glance over the whole wide world. The -Darentdale Church, united, for the sake of those who were -outside, had plenty of work on its hands, and a great solicitude -in its heart.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And there was a “revival” in Darentdale. There had to -be—first, in the church, where it was most needed; and, -secondly, outside—among those whom it was necessary to -bring in. For those who worked the most earnestly were not -able to do, of themselves, that which they most desired to do, -and the more entirely they felt their own helplessness the -more entirely were they thrown upon God.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They were disappointed again and again. One woman, -who had been helped and who had seemed grateful, relapsed -into drunkenness, and was quite candid. “I have been a -fool,” she said, “to sign the pledge and pretend that I want -to be goody. But never again! A short life and a merry -one for me!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The way was too narrow, the fight too strenuous, for them. -They needed a Helper stronger than the human, and until -they sought Him, the immoral could not become moral, or the -evil good.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We must pray more! Let us give an hour a day to intercessory -wrestling with God, that He will save the people, -for they cannot save themselves; neither can we save them; -but we are sure that, if it be God’s will, they must be saved,” -said one.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I am sure,” replied Mr. Harris, “that it is most certainly -God’s will that they should be saved.” But he prayed -with the rest, for, although he did not even now attend the -ordinary religious service at church or chapel, he was always -present at the united meetings that were public.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The whole church, indeed, gave itself up to prayer, both -private and united; and, as is always the case, there were -some remarkable incidents proving that prayers were heard -and answers abundant; one man, Benham, declaring that -after what he had seen he would never doubt again. “Since -that woman is changed,” he added, “I am sure that any one -can be. There is an alteration in this place, sure enough.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is,” said Nelson, who was the recipient of Benham’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>confidences; “but it is because good people mean it all -much more than they used.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and things will never be the same again, for now -they know how to look after the boys and girls. And this is -the most promising thing of all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And indeed it was. The Darentdale Committee of Helpfulness -set a very high value on every young person living in -the village. If he or she should show vicious tendencies the -best and ablest person among them undertook the case. All -the ingenuity and watchful love of wise parents were brought -to bear, and at present there had been no case that proved -invulnerable to these benign powers and influences. It soon -became an extraordinary thing to the Darentdale people that -there could ever have been a time when a child was of small account -in the place. “We shall make <em>men</em> out of these,” was a -consideration never overlooked now in regard to the children.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A very merry place was Darentdale during those summer -evenings. There were a dozen tennis-courts, and as many -cricket-grounds, each presenting a scene of most complete -enjoyment. The young ladies played with the poor girls. -Mr. Dallington, the clergyman, and the Baptist minister, each -superintended some recreations, and all sorts of delightful -games were organised, in which lads and girls joined and -their teachers assisted. There were botany classes held in -the fields and woods; there were the sounds of sweet songs in -the meadows, and open-air concerts in the groves; there were -gymnastic feats in the orchards, and races in the lanes; but -everything was under the supervision of Christian men and -women, who guided the conversation, and helped with the -jokes, and made it impossible for gambling or bad language -to be mixed up with the play, and who believed that in all -this they were doing the Lord’s work as certainly as when -they were teaching in the Sunday-school.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret Miller and John Dallington were quietly waiting. -The look of youthfulness had passed from John’s face and -form, but Margaret was as sweet as ever. John shouldered his -cross of care manfully, and Margaret daily laid hers down at -the feet of Him who is as able to bear our sorrows as our sins; -and both helped in the efforts that were being made for the -betterment of the people who had been, as they believed, -committed to their care.</p> - -<p class='c011'>One thing had greatly delighted Margaret, and it was that -her grandfather, as she still called him, had undertaken the -care of a dozen of her Young Crusaders. At first, though -neither he nor she knew it, there had been a demur among -some of the committee.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>“This must be kept in the hands of Christians,” one said -“and we have no proof that Mr. Harris believes in Christ.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But another replied, “Let us judge him by the Master’s -rule, ‘By their fruits ye shall know them.’ We cannot doubt -that <em>He</em> would deal very tolerantly with such a man as Henry -Harris if He were here now. No one has ever heard him say -a word against Christ in all the years we have known him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And now he never says a word against anybody, he has -become wonderfully gentle and good. He will do no harm to -the boys.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And this was certainly the feeling of the majority. As for -Margaret, she almost envied the boys, for she knew how wisely -and lovingly they would be trained.</p> - -<p class='c011'>For two hours each evening Mr. Miller’s house and garden -were open to them, and for the first hour he gave them something -to do with their bodies—gardening, or quoits, or football, -or cricket—and for the second he was at their service -to tell them tales or read to them, or take walks with them, -or anything else they pleased. Before they had been a week -with him they all loved him, and would have done anything -or given up anything for him. And he loved them greatly. -He believed that every boy had the making of a hero in him, -and he sought to find out how to develop the best of his -nature and his powers. He liked to set the eleven to some -work or play which they liked, and take the twelfth away -where the two could talk confidentially to each other. The -boy would pour out his very soul to his friend, telling him -his ambitions, his troubles, his sins, and his hopes, as he had -never told any one before. And what wise counsel he -received in return, what good words to be treasured in the -boy’s heart even after he became a man, no one knew but -God, not even the man or the boy himself.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris was always very tired after the boys had gone. -It was really a bit of his very life that he gave them. If the -heart be not put into work of this kind very little is accomplished; -but if it be heart work it can only be done at great -personal cost to the worker. But he was always very happy, -too, and had usually something to tell Margaret which she -was glad to hear.</p> - -<p class='c011'>One evening Mr. Harris was walking over the fields with a -lad called Dick Nelson, a bright, mischievous boy, “worth -saving at any price,” Harris said to himself, when a question -was put to him of a more direct character than any which he -had ever before been called to answer. They were talking -about men who had made England, especially the warriors -and the statesmen, and at length they mentioned General -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>Gordon. “He would have done more lasting work if he had -been less general and more Gordon,” said Harris. “He was -a very fine man, but I have always wished that he had not -been a soldier. You know, Dick, that is one of my fads. I -don’t like war, but I like Gordon; he was a splendid Christian -fellow, true as steel.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You don’t like him any better because he was a Christian, -though, Mr. Harris, do you?” asked the boy, looking -curiously into the grey eyes beneath the shaggy brows.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Don’t I? Indeed, I do,” said Harris, with a kindly -smile.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The lad was thoughtful for a moment too, and then an -exciting incident occurred; for they saw a fox running across -a meadow, and of course the boy must needs chase it. What -boy could resist such a chance as that? He came back hot, -but pleased, and ready to endure the banter of his friend, -who had been watching with an indulgent look upon his -benevolent face, and thinking of his own boyhood as if it -were but yesterday. After that they had a talk about -amusements; but when that subject had been dropped, and -a silence had fallen between them, the boy suddenly asked, -“Mr. Harris, what do you think about Jesus Christ?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Harris replied very gently, “I think He was the greatest -and best Man that ever lived.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But don’t you think, sir,” said his questioner, wistfully, -“that He must have been more than a man to do all the -things He did—that is, if He ever did do them—I suppose we -cannot be sure of that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Harris detected the tones of regret in the boy’s voice. -“Why cannot we be sure?” he said. “The writers of the -biographies of Jesus Christ are certainly as much to be believed -as any other writers, to say the least of it; and for my -part I have not any doubt that they told the truth about Him. -Dick, my boy, you cannot do without Jesus Christ. He is -the best Friend a man ever had—don’t doubt that; and as for -a poor, hard-working lad like you, why, you will find the world -a very dark place if you try to shut Him out of it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I don’t want to,” said Dick. “I like to read about -Him. There is nothing sham about Him, is there, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sham! There is nothing half so real as Jesus Christ,” -and Harris took off his hat.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad you think so,” the boy said gently, putting his -hand affectionately on the arm of his master.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Young Nelson never forgot this talk, and it influenced -his whole life.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris was half touched, half amused at the incident. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>He spoke of it to Margaret that evening, for she kept all his -confidences, and thoroughly understood him. “I am not -quite the sceptic I think myself, I suppose,” he said. “Certainly, -the longer I live the more am I impressed by the strong -personality of the marvellous Man of Nazareth. I think His -time is coming nearer; and it will be a happy time, indeed, -for the world. Do you see the signs, Margaret?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So they talked together; and presently he asked her to -sing “one of the old, old hymns,” and she sang “Jesus, the -very thought of Thee,” and he joined in as if he felt it. -Indeed, that night, after Margaret had left him, sitting as he -loved to sit, with the blinds up, and the moonlight filling the -room, she heard him sing softly the words, which for so many -generations loyal lips have sung to Jesus; and she said to -herself, “Dear Graf! Why does he call himself an unbeliever?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>In Darentdale those who were joined together in Christian -love and helpfulness had instituted a communion service -which was for their mutual comfort and edification. It was -held usually in the house of the clergyman, but although -many church people attended, the number of Nonconformists -was still larger. They did not call it a sacrament, but “a -breaking of bread together,” and “all who loved the Lord -Jesus in sincerity” were invited to be present. A few -evenings after the boy’s question to Mr. Harris the friends -were together as usual. The door of the Vicarage was open, -and they were singing a hymn of praise, the sound of which -floated through the garden, and reached the high road. Along -the road Mr. Harris was walking, and he stopped at the gate -to listen. Then he went noiselessly to the room where the -meeting was held, and took his seat at the door. Of course -he was at once recognised. After the hymn was sung a chapter -was read, prayer was offered by any who wished to pray, -and the chairman asked any friend who could to speak.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris rose and said a few words, which came from his -heart, and went to the hearts of others. He told them that -he had not been quite sincere in his profession of lack of -faith in Christianity, that he had believed always in Christ, -but only lately in Christians. He said that he had long ago -put his trust in Jesus as the living Saviour, and could say, -“I know in whom I have believed”—although he had not -thought it necessary to join any part of the Church. “But -now,” he said, “I have a great hunger for the communion of -saints! Unworthy as I feel myself, yet, because I love our -Lord, I ask you to let me join you in this service. Will you -receive me as one of yourselves? I love my Master, and I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>love His brethren, and I crave your prayers and your help. -I want to be taught and strengthened. Let me take the -lowest place among you, but do not shut me out, for I believe -that Jesus is the Christ, and that He loved me, and gave -Himself for me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>His voice grew rather unsteady—perhaps it was because -he saw Margaret weeping—and he resumed his seat. But -the little company stood, and with one accord they sang,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Praise God from whom all blessings flow.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVI.<br> <span class='large'>“HIS OWN WAY.”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>The reason why Mr. Samuel Smart spent that short -holiday in Darentdale became apparent a few weeks -afterward when Margaret Miller received a letter. The -letter was as follows:—</p> - -<p class='c011'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Miss Miller</span>,—Pardon the presumption of an old -man, who is a stranger to you. I knew Captain Dallington, -and I once saw you when you were a little child of three, and -since then I have heard of you, and of the great host of -Young Crusaders who, in all parts of the country, are learning -to be good citizens because they are trying to be good -Christians.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am sorry that I have come to the end of my life, -because life was never so well worth living as now, when it -is quite the fashion for a man to give what he has got for -the good of his fellows. I have something which I also wish -to give; but every man gives in his own way, and I know—for -I have dreamed of it by day and night—exactly how I -wish my gift to be administered. And I write to you -because I have a great hope that you will help me.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let me tell you a little of myself. I was born in a narrow -street in Bristol, and my childhood’s home was a house of -four small rooms. My father was a bricklayer’s labourer, -who earned eighteen shillings a week. He married early, -and there were seven children. My father was a decent -man, who did the best he could, and gave all his earnings -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>to his wife; but my mother was a poor, incapable creature, -who had been a factory girl from the time when she was -ten years old until she was married, and who had not the -least idea how to make the best of the small means she -had. I can remember her as a young woman, with dirty -face and ragged dress and untidy hair, sitting for the most -part of the day on the doorstep or by the fire, gossiping -with the neighbours or reading cheap papers while the -breakfast-things were still on the table, and no dinner was -ready for my father when he came home. We lived on -bread bought at the baker’s; we were all dirty and ragged; -there was always a baby, and my mother never seemed -anything but miserable and cross. She used to beat us -savagely at times, and though I have often tried, I do not -remember any time when she took me into her arms, or -taught me a useful lesson. And yet she was not what is -generally called a bad woman; she was ignorant and incapable; -she had been vain and uncontrolled, she had -married without serious thoughts, and had not the energy to -meet the circumstances of her life, or fulfil its tasks.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Our father was kind to us, and I do not think that he -quarrelled with my mother oftener than he could help; he -never spent much money in the public-house; he made his -small wages go as far as they could without his wife’s help, -but she never seconded his endeavours, and our home was as -miserable as thousands of other working men’s homes are, -and which are made a thousand times more so by the hopelessness -and idleness and incapacity of the conscienceless -women who are in them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We children went very irregularly to school, but began -to earn a few coppers, or to pick up odds and ends of food -for ourselves in any way that offered. I liked the quay better -than any place, and used to spend whole days there, and at -last a captain who was going to sea offered to take me. I -ran home to ask my father and mother if I might go. ‘I -don’t care where you go,’ said my mother; ‘go where you like, -only don’t bother me.’ My father went back with me to the -captain, and talked with him, telling him I had no clothes -excepting those I wore, and that my mother was not very -strong and could not see to me, and asking the man to treat -me well; then he patted my head and told me to be a good -boy, and gave me a penny.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That was the last I saw of them for several years. Then -I came back with the ship, and went to see my people. Two -of my brothers and a sister had died, and my mother looked -more miserable and dirty than ever. I gave her some money -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>but was sorry afterward, for the money was worse than -wasted, and my father was angry, and bade me, when I came -home again, give the money to him and not to my mother. -I stayed a few days at home, but there was no room for me, -and after the first day I felt that no one wanted me; and -when the ship sailed again my heart was hard and bitter, -and I had resolved never to trouble my people with my -presence again.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is more than fifty years ago. I am not going to -inflict upon you a detailed biography, nor to tell you how it -has come about that the son of a Bristol bricklayer’s labourer -has become a rich man, and is alone in the world without a -single living relative. But so it is. I have been in England -five years; but though I have spared no pains or endeavours, -I can find no trace of my brothers or sisters other than the -registers of their deaths. They seem to have left no children -behind them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am, therefore, free to do as I will with my money; and, -naturally, I should like it to benefit my native land. I have -looked at the different methods of doing good which others -have adopted; but I do not quite like any of them. I could -leave a large legacy to a hospital; but it seems to me better -to nurse the poor in their own homes than in big places -where all are strangers. I could buy a people’s park, and -present it to some town which has none: but I have a hope -that the future will bring the people back to the villages. I -could give my money to some grand scheme for providing -employment for the unemployed; but the worst of the unemployed -do not want work, and would not do it if they -might. So many benevolences commence at the wrong end -of life. It is with the children that Hope dwells. Your own -Young Crusaders are the great makers of the future, such -as we wish it to be. But they are—most of them—working -lads. In a few years they will be falling in love with pretty -faces, and marrying them. And what then? Many girls are -still in factories, as vain and frivolous as girls ever were. -What sort of wives will they make for your Tri-colour -Crusaders? How many years will it take for thriftless, -soulless women to undo what you are trying to do?</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think if you had wanted money for your Crusade I -would have given you some of mine. I am, however, greatly -rejoiced that you do not flood the country with appeals and -begging letters, but that this vast and most important -organisation is, like the great Sunday-school system, -carried on at small cost, which is met by local voluntary -contributions.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>“But that which I desire to see accomplished cannot well -be done by existing institutions, or without extra money.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My wish is to provide a Training Home for young women -who are about to be married, where they may stay, free of -cost, for six months, and be under the influence of Christian -women at the same time that they are practising such household -duties and economies as pertain to the wives of the poor; -and for such only as have no mothers to teach them, or those -flighty young girls who are not willing to be taught. Plenty -of such cases must be known to city missionaries, district -visitors, and all the other kindly souls who look after the -poor and take an interest in girls.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Personally, I rejoice in the better wages now paid to the -working man. Whoever helps to make the prosperity of a -nation should share in it. But wages have less to do with -the well-being of a family than most people imagine. Two -men are neighbours, they earn the same wages, pay the same -rent, have the same number of children; but in one case the -people are respectable and respected, in the other they are -dejected, suspected, and miserable. What makes the difference? -A little bill announcing a Band of Hope meeting is in -the window of one, and a broken pane of glass in the other. -In the one case the man is steady and the woman is industrious -and thrifty, in the other, both man and woman are -failures in life and character. I know that human nature is -exceedingly stubborn and intractable, and that only the -Spirit of God can change the heart; but is not the Spirit -always working? Have we not the right to hope that many -giddy young things, who would otherwise rush into married -life quite unprepared for its duties, may, under the influences -of love and happiness, be brought to take more serious views -of their responsibilities? I cannot imagine any better way -of serving our country than by helping to raise the character -of the young mothers among the people. I am casting no -slur on the women of England as a whole; no one has anything -but praise for the hosts of loyal, loving, enlightened, -working mothers who are training their sons and daughters -for high and noble futures; but our great weakness and -danger are in the multitudes of other women, and it is the -lowest class that is laid upon my thought.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But nothing can be done in this matter except by women -of courage, tact, and strong character and goodness. I can -find the house and the money; can you find the organisers -and the workers? Will you, dear Miss Miller, for the love -of Christ and your poor miserable young sisters who do not -know Him, undertake the management of the home? and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>will you love them and care for them, and teach them what -goodness is? I ask you, partly because you are yourself -young, and can therefore understand and sympathise with -girls, and partly because, from all I know of you, I am assured -that you can carry this idea forward to success, and mostly -for another reason, which is my own alone. My friend -Smart has told me all about your private life and character. -And I have no hesitation in saying that if you will do your -part I will do mine, and with all possible speed. A large, substantial -homestead near the coast, in the north-east of -Yorkshire, has lately come into my possession. It could be -ready for you in a month. It will accommodate forty -persons; and I will not only pay all the bills, but will give a -present of five pounds’ worth of household utensils to every -girl who stays with you six months, and satisfies you. I have -an idea that this bribe may win some who would not -otherwise submit to any process of improvement, however -kindly performed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am only like many other men of my day in my wish to -remain unknown, and to do this thing anonymously. You -may call me ‘Friend Philip’ if you will; and all our communications -had better pass through the hands of my -solicitors—Messrs. Smart, Watkin, and Smart. I cannot -but hope that your reply may be in the affirmative. Think -of the lives you may influence, the homes you may bless; -and I pray you help me in this important work. We shall be -the pioneers of the movement. Before many years are passed -all the big cities—London, Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds, and -my own Bristol—will consider a Training Home for Mothers -as great a necessity as a workhouse or a gaol, and will support -one out of the rates. This is surely a crusade for women; -and it is worthy of your best powers. But if you will not -undertake it I must find some other means of disposing of -my money.—Believe me, with great respect, yours faithfully, -<span class='sc'>Friend Philip</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret might have been disposed to question the validity -of this letter but for one from Mr. Smart which accompanied -it, and which stated that the necessary funds for -commencing the enterprise had already been lodged with -his firm, subject to her consent to act. She was, naturally, -greatly disturbed by the incident. How could she take up -this work when her hands were full already? And it was -not of such a life that she dreamed. No woman does. She -may accept it, when God sends it, and find it full of wonderful -content and exquisite joy; but her early dreams are -of something very different from this.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>Margaret’s thoughts were of John. She hoped to prove -that one young woman was capable of making one young -man a good wife—when the time came. Her pleasantest -occupations had to do with economical housekeeping, and her -imaginings were of a bright little home where hands that love -made clever were instead of gold. But in that home, in her -dreams, there was always a seat for John’s mother, who -had at last taken to her arms the Margaret whom she once -despised and hated, and a pang shot through the girl’s heart -as she acknowledged that this dream was as far from realisation -as ever. She had declared that she would not marry -John without his mother’s consent, and his mother had shown -no sign of relenting.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps I am not to be happy, and God has sent me this -work instead,” she thought.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John was to call upon her that evening, but she scarcely -knew how to wait until then. She must show him this letter -even before Mr. Harris saw it, for John had the greater right. -And what would he say but what she had said already, that -this strange man who had written to her must find some one -else to use his money and do his work?</p> - -<p class='c011'>And yet, as Margaret thought the words she corrected -herself. “It is God’s work, I am sure of that,” she said; -“but I cannot think He wishes me to do it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret did with her letter as, many years before, -King Hezekiah did with his. And then she tried to wait -patiently.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the afternoon it occurred to her that it would be a good -plan to compel Mrs. Hunter to see her and talk to her openly. -Naturally Margaret shrank from the ordeal, but she thought -it quite possible that good might come of it. She would try -to tell Mrs. Hunter that she need have no fear that she would -marry her son if that would be to separate him from his -mother, but she would point out to her that she had come -to the parting of the ways, and needed to decide on some -action, and then she would appeal to the mother’s love and -see if the proud woman would not yield a little.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Poor Margaret! After nerving herself to the effort she -entered the garden of John’s house, and saw Mrs. Hunter -at the window. But the servant informed her that Mrs. -Hunter bade her say that she was not at home.</p> - -<p class='c011'>So Margaret swallowed her disappointment and returned -home. Happily for her peace of mind, John came early -enough to take tea with her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, my darling,” he said, “I am hungry for your -love. I must see you oftener than once a week, or I shall -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>become a very disagreeable fellow. What is the matter?” -His eyes were searching her face, and love made them keen. -He saw that she was labouring under some excitement.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She thought she would not tell him quite at first about her -visit to his mother, if at all, for it would only give him pain.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I want my tea,” she said; “let us have it cosily together. -Even Graf is out, and I do not expect any one to call. I want -to ask you something?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is it, my Madge?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The name of this wild flower. It is new to me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Nonsense! It is not at all an uncommon flower. You -must be blinded by love, or you would have seen it before.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps I am,” said Margaret, demurely. “Another cup?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But when the tea was drunk she could wait no longer.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have a letter to show you. It is from a gentleman,” -she said, lightly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>His brow clouded. “Who is he?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! that is what I do not know. But you need not be -angry. He has made me a proposal; but he is a very old man.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They read the letter together. At first John was pleased.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is a capital idea,” he said. “It is just what is wanted. -Does not everybody say that the great design of the Zenana -work in India is to train mothers? And there is not a town -of any size in England but has hundreds of mothers such as -this man had.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But as he read further he was not so satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What does the fellow mean?” he said. “How perfectly -absurd! He asks you to do it. A pretty thing, indeed! -You have something else to do with your life, Margaret. I -want you.” But he was very pale, and a fear had taken -possession of him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The letter has disturbed me a little,” she said; “but the -writer surely cannot mean that the scheme hangs upon my -accepting or rejecting the management of it. I am too young -and inexperienced.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course you are,” John rejoined, hastily. “But oh, my -darling, we must not wait longer. Why should we? I am -of age. I can please myself. I am not under my mother’s -control, and she is wrong to try to thwart me. We should -have to be economical, for I am getting poorer every day, and -the lack of money tries and troubles me greatly; but you -would not mind that. Say you will marry me, and will not -let my mother come between us.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“John, dear, I dare not come between you and your -mother. You are all she has. There is no change for the -better, is there? I tried to see her to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>“You did?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, for I think if she would talk things over with me, -she would feel differently; but the servant told me that she -was not at home.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We will see her together, Margaret, and she shall talk -with you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And, perhaps, it will be right for me to let her decide -whether or not I shall undertake this work?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Nay, my darling, why should she decide? It is for you -and me to decide, and we have done it already.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But though he spoke confidently there was a great doubt -at his heart all the time, and Margaret had a curious feeling -that she would have to go to that old homestead in Yorkshire—if -not willingly, then against her will.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Talk to my cousin Tom about it,” said John, “and also to -Arthur Knight’s friend, Miss Wentworth. It is she who -ought to undertake this thing. She is just the person for it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I will see Tom to-morrow, and if she can spare -the time we will go to Miss Wentworth and lay the -matter before her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next day Margaret and Tom had a long talk about it, -and Tom was most enthusiastic.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, I scarcely like to say it, because of John, -for I do not know what he could do without you; but you -were made for this work. There is nothing that so badly -needs to be done just now, and God has given you a very -motherly nature on purpose for it. Do not hastily refuse -this call. I think it is from God.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have not told my grandfather yet, and I must. And we -shall hear what Miss Wentworth says about it. But, Tom, -most of all I want to know whether there is any hope of -John’s mother receiving me kindly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, I am afraid there is not the very least chance -of it. Aunt is really dreadful about John’s love for you; -and it is only right that I should tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then, Tom,” said Margaret, slowly, “I think I must -do this thing that I am asked; not that I am able or worthy, -but because it is given me to do. I dare not separate John’s -mother from him, and the state of things that exists at -present is really injuring him; so, for his sake—yes, and -for another reason—I feel as if I must say Yes. It is such -a splendid mission to be engaged in.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is. And if I may help you, Margaret, I will. But we -must not be hasty. We have others to think of.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes,” said Margaret; “and I think John’s mother shall -decide it for me.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVII.<br> <span class='large'>A VISIT OF INQUIRY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Many troubles are worse in anticipation than in reality. -Mr. Felix Stapleton had cut the difficult knot of his -affairs in the only right and direct way; and all the haunting -spectres that had filled his days with care, and made his -nights hideous, vanished at once.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He had rebuilt the little mission chapel, which had been -pronounced unsafe; he had made atonement in some way -to every man who had paid him more for a house than -it was worth; and he had met his liabilities like a man and -a Christian.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course all this had not been done at small cost to -himself. Much time and thought had been given to his -affairs, and competent advice sought by him. It goes without -saying that there had been many consultations at which -his brother and his son assisted, and they were frequently -joined by Mrs. Stapleton and her eldest daughter. In one -point they were decided and united, once for all: whatever -came they would not forfeit their own self-respect, and -that of each other; nor would they do what their consciences, -cultivated by Christianity, declared to be wrong -in God’s sight, and dishonourable in the sight of the best -men. And having thus decided it was wonderful how easy -and practicable all the rest became.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Granchester folk were considerably surprised, and -almost filled with consternation, when they discovered that -Mr. Stapleton’s house and estate, and even his horses, carriages, -and furniture, were for sale; but he gained immensely -from the fact that he was himself selling them, and not -his creditors. His place was so convenient and beautiful, -and in such excellent condition, that it sold exceedingly -well, and with little delay; and the wonder of it all scarcely -lasted the proverbial nine days. The greatest trouble Mr. -Stapleton had was to get the money at once, and pay it -away as quickly; for this is not the way in which business is -done in these days; but he was a very determined man, -and even the lawyers had for once to be in a hurry. For -a few days he had much to endure—since it took that time -for the people to make up their minds whether he was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>a rogue or a hero—and one or two acquaintances became -less genial in their greetings and more cautious in their -dealings with him. But after the meeting of the creditors, -when it was understood what the man had really done, and -how he had vindicated his honour and Christian principle, he -was treated with a respect which almost amounted to veneration. -One of the happiest memories of his life, henceforth, -was that of the testimony which the chairman bore to his -uprightness and sustained honour, and of the emphatic -approval and handshakings of the other men.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And now himself and family were safely ensconced in their -pretty country cottage, and had entered upon their new life. -Mr. Stapleton went off every morning on the outside of the -tram, and enjoyed his twopenny ride. He was always accompanied -by his son, and generally by his eldest daughter, who -now gave lessons on the violin, and had several pupils. Mrs. -Stapleton spent an hour in the garden daily, and was assisted -by some of the younger children. The girls were taking -lessons in housekeeping of their mother. The troubles of -the family had brought them all more closely together, -and there was more love and brightness among them than -before.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you feel as if you have come down in the social scale, -mother?” asked Ernest one day.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not in the least,” was the prompt reply. “My friends -seem to have settled in the affirmative the question, ‘Ought -we to visit her?’ and many of them have taken the trouble -to come over and call. But they quite understand that I am -too busy now to give much time to social civilities; and I am -prepared to spend the rest of my days in the bosom of my -family.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>As for Mr. Stapleton, the cloud had been lifted from him, -and his step became once more buoyant and free. And the -best of it was that his courageous example was followed -by many other men, who would not have had strength to be -honest if he had not shown them the way.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Before many weeks had passed an incident occurred which -rendered it possible that he might once more win his way -to fortune, although, as he often declared, if he were a -millionaire he would never again live as extravagantly as he -had done; and, indeed, simple life was becoming fashionable -in many quarters.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The story of Arthur Knight’s removal to Craighelbyl had -been frequently told in the illustrated and other newspapers, -and it had excited great interest. Some manufacturers who -were finding the expenses of their location in London and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>other large cities almost too heavy to be borne were -fascinated by the idea of getting away into some country -district, where the cost of living and production would be -so much less as to cover in time that of removal. Before -long several firms had resolved upon making a similar -venture, and one or two limited liability companies were -formed for the same purpose.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At a meeting of the managers of some of these companies -it was resolved to ask Felix Stapleton to undertake the -requisite buildings; and, as may be imagined, there was -great rejoicing in his home at the news, as also at the home -of Dr. Stapleton; for his brother hastened to inform him, -and to ask his help and advice. “It could not come at a -better time for me,” he said. “Most of my men will go with -me anywhere, and will work for fair wages. The building -trade is slack here so I shall have no difficulty. I am advised -to go to Craighelbyl, and see the place for myself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly, and I will go with you,” said the doctor. “I -was wishing for just such an opportunity. A daughter of a -friend of mine is going there—Miss Tom Whitwell—and I -shall be glad to offer to be her escort. How soon can you -go? There is nothing like seeing for yourself, and I would -lose no time about it if I were you; for Knight’s idea is -certain to prove fruitful seed in more directions than one.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, there is no doubt of it. The day of the big cities is -over, at least in one respect. It has always been a mistake -to plant new works in the metropolis; London is for other -purposes than to make kettles, or shoes, or blankets in. It -has been growing more beautiful and healthy every year. -And there are plenty of other places where the common -work of the factory can be better and more cheaply done -than in her streets. It is waste of many kinds to continue -immense black works within the sound of Big Ben. The -laws of England will always be made in Westminster, and -her books within a two-mile radius of Paternoster Row, -while round about the Bank and the Exchange King Commerce -will reign for ever; and from the Thames will still go -the ships that are to conquer the world, not with their big -guns but with their cargo.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! A cargo of rum and whisky!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, indeed. Do you suppose that England is going to -stand that sort of thing much longer? I am sure she will -not, for, Fred, the Church is waking up at last!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I really believe she is.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And, in the meantime, the denizens of ‘darkest London’ -are being taken out by thousands into the light of broad fields -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>and green spaces, and are being educated to love work by -enterprising Englishmen who will actually <em>make it pay</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They are sure to do that if it is to be done.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I believe it is. There are great capacities for work in the -ordinary working man of England, and now, when so often -he is given a share in the profits which he helps to make, we -shall be able to hold our own, no matter who tries to block -the way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Bravo, Felix! I congratulate you on the change of heart -and head which has taken place in you. And when will you -go to Craighelbyl?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“On Monday. I should like to be at home on Sunday. -They have asked me to preach in our little village in the -evening. Of course, I cannot preach a sermon; but a man -ought to have learnt something by his prosperities and -adversities, and all the ways in which God deals with his -soul, and I will gladly tell the people that which has been -taught to me. And, after all, they like that sort of thing. -Even the parsons are the more successful the more they -let life teach them, and the more of the real teachings -of life which they put in their sermons. Too many of them -really do not understand the fierce temptations which beset -men who are doing the world’s business, and I suppose -that is how it is that a man may so often attend two services, -and yet fail to grasp anything which will help to keep -him steady and true on the Monday.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is so. And although all congregations like to get -from their ministers what is called an intellectual treat—or, -better still, a spiritual treat—every one needs and -appreciates the direct talk of a practical man. But, Felix, -we must keep to business now. Can you spare a few hours -to go over to Mr. Whitwell’s?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Can <em>you</em>?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I will drive across at once if you like. I shall -be back in time to see two patients this evening. It is -always a pleasure to go to Hornby Hall.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The master of the Hall was delighted to make the acquaintance -of Felix Stapleton, since he honoured the man, as many -others did, for the fidelity to Christian principles which he -had exhibited. The two men had much in common, and -the time flew rapidly while they were together.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall be greatly indebted to you for taking my daughter -under your charge during her journey,” he said. “And I -am sure you will enjoy your visit. I should like to accompany -you, too. But you will not find the man who is -the life and soul of the place there. I see from the papers -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>that Mr. Knight is trying to be in half-a-dozen places at once. -He is endeavouring to prepare for the next political battle, -and there is no time to lose, for a dissolution is imminent.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you think so? That is my own opinion also.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes. The Government is in great straits. There -must be an appeal to the country, and that soon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will be a big fight.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will, indeed, and fought on altogether new lines; for -the conflict will be between the Church and the world, and -not, as before, between two parties who themselves make half -the difficulties that are supposed to separate them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are the churches ready?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think they are more nearly ready than ever before. -They have made their influence more surely felt during -the last twenty years than at any other time since the -formation of the present British Constitution. And this -has naturally aroused the antagonism of the opposing -powers, who do nothing but sneer at the development of -the Christian conscience in politics; but the result will be -that those who are for righteousness will ignore their minor -differences, and stand together in this contest.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If they do, the right will be victorious. Scourby means -to lead the way,” said Dr. Stapleton. “There is not, I think, -the least fear that Mr. Lavender will be returned again. -The people have learned their lesson thoroughly.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think so, though it remains to be seen.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I did not tell you, Felix,” said the doctor, addressing his -brother, “that I had the pleasure of making one of a deputation -from all the religious societies of the town, to urge Mr. -Whitwell to allow himself to be nominated.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad to hear it. I need not ask whether you were -successful, because the feeling is strong that no man who is -solicited by the united churches can do other than accept the -honour and responsibility.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That is my own feeling,” said Mr. Whitwell. “But for -this I should certainly have declined, for I have no wish -whatever to enter Parliament; but I think in the present -crisis every man should put his patriotism before his own -wishes or convenience.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And in your case there can be no doubt of victory.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not sure. I believe it will certainly be a hard fight.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope every man will vote. There ought to be a law to -compel him to do so,” said Dr. Stapleton.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What!” cried his brother, “do you want to still further -curtail the liberty of the subject?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I believe,” said Mr. Whitwell, “that Arthur Knight will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>have done a great deal to bring about a better state of things -in England. Have you heard him speak, Mr. Stapleton?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; several times. He is a man of marvellous power -and eloquence. What he says goes directly to the hearts of -his hearers. His personality is so vivid, and his words and -gestures are so telling, that it is difficult to resist him. He -sways an audience as few have been able to do. I am sorry -he is not at Craighelbyl.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I should think he will probably be there during your -visit,” said Tom—and then she stopped, as if confused.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But he is quite on the other side of the country,” objected -her father.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes? But the country is not a very broad one, and Mr. -Knight is a good traveller. I am sure he would wish to see -you, Dr. Stapleton, and would return, if possible, in time to -do the honours of his own place.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell shook his head. “He is engaged just now -on grave business,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose we are to have another eloquent man in our -midst directly—the young clergyman from Canada?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Macdonald? Yes; I understand that he will rival -Knight. It is another case of Wesley and Whitfield. Only -Macdonald is a very staunch Churchman, and speaks in the -interests of the English Church.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What a good thing it is that the Church will hear him!” -remarked the doctor.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dr. Stapleton, I wish you could persuade my friend, Margaret -Miller, to accompany us to Craighelbyl,” said Tom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I could not urge her to do so now, for, although she does -not yet know it, I am afraid that her grandfather is ill.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Harris ill!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He is not well, certainly, and I am rather anxious about -him. I want him to consult a specialist.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It would be a sad thing for us all if Mr. Harris were ill. -We could not spare him just now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hope I may be mistaken. He is a fine man, and my -best friend,” said the doctor. “Felix, my time is up. I -shall call for you, Miss Tom, at nine o’clock on Monday -morning. Our train leaves Euston at eleven.”</p> - -<p class='c015'>Three of the passengers who travelled into Wales by that -train, although they had as pleasant a journey as any of the -rest, and were quite as talkative, had each some thoughts -which were kept entirely to the thinker, and a profound -secret from the others. They were going, as more than a few -other people had gone, in order to see for themselves the new -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>departure which created so much interest everywhere, and -their conversation was chiefly on this theme. Tom, too, was -eager to see her friend Mary Wythburn, and renew the -friendship of the old school days, and hear all that Mary -would tell of her strange experiences since that morning -which she never liked to think about, when she had fled from -her friends rather than be married. Tom was very desirous, -too, to introduce to Mr. Stapleton the two children, Geoff -and Sis, and discover how they liked the new life. Tom’s -stories of these prodigies were very amusing, and helped to -while away the tedium of the journey. But that which she -was thinking of the most frequently she told to no one; and -perhaps Dr. Stapleton and his brother were as little confidential -as she.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was evening when they neared Afon Wen, and saw the -beautiful blue sea spread before them; but Craighelbyl looks -its loveliest and best in the evening lights, and the travellers -agreed that a more charming situation could scarcely have -been found.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Miss Wythburn and her father stood on the platform, and -the two children were beside them. As the train drew up, -Sissy shouted, “Aunty Tom, what have you brought me? I -am such a great, good girl now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The child was exceedingly useful, for the meeting might -have had some elements of awkwardness in it if she had not -created a diversion.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary hastened forward to greet her friend. “Oh, Tom! -how good it is to see you. But how pale and tired you are! -The Welsh air will soon change all that though. If you had -but brought Margaret with you my joy would have been -perfect. How do you do, Dr. Stapleton?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The doctor looked so intently into the face that had seldom -been absent from his thoughts that Mary was obliged to -turn from his keen gaze in some confusion. Mr. Wythburn’s -pleasure was very great; he had longed for the sight of an -old friend, and he had always liked the doctor. He wished he -might have come to stay for a month; and he promised -himself the greatest possible pleasure in showing him the -features of the new place in which Mr. Wythburn almost felt -that he had a share.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The two girls walked together to talk as girls will; and -Tom was soon in ecstasies about everything. “But I wish -very much that Mr. Knight were at home,” said Mary; “for -the place never seems complete without him.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVIII.<br> <span class='large'>“FOR CHRIST AND THE PEOPLE!”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“And you are really happy, Mary?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“As happy as it is possible to be in this world.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And you do not require any one but these people to fill -your heart and life? You are sure that you have never -regretted Alfred Greenholme?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary laughed merrily at the suggestion. “I do regret -acting as I did, Tom; but I thank God every day that -instead of being Alfred Greenholme’s wife I am at work -among my dear people in this most beautiful place.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And no doubt Mr. Knight fully appreciates your -services?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Knight appreciates everything that is done to help -to make Craighelbyl what he has set his heart upon its -becoming—a model town occupied by model people. It is not -all easy, you know, Tom. We have some obstreperous ones -among us; but there is every inducement to the people to -behave well, because everything is done that can be thought -of to make them comfortable and happy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And they are certainly a merry set, if one may judge -from last night.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; they have developed a capacity for enjoying themselves -which is remarkable when one remembers how they -looked when they lived in Paradise Grove.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I really must congratulate you, Mary, on being able to -assist in so good and great a thing as this. I should have -liked the chance myself.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am sure you would have, Tom. But now tell me of -Margaret, and this new idea of a training home for young -housewives.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The two friends were together on the shore, with a long -afternoon before them, and much to talk about. Mary -wanted to know all that Tom could tell of Scourby and -Darentdale, of old and mutual friends, and of the success of -the new plans for helping the poor to help themselves, which -had been tried for a longer time in the places adjacent to -Tom’s home than anywhere else. When she heard the -particulars of the suggestions contained in the letter which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>Margaret had received she was delighted, and almost wished -herself back again that she might help.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret must undertake the management, and she will -do it splendidly,” she said. “Nothing must stand in the -way. It is, of all other missions, the one that is most needed -in England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not at all sure that my Cousin John ought not to -stand in the way. There are always private interests to be -considered, and it is not right that they should be ignored. -But if Margaret abides by her resolution not to marry him -until my aunt consents, I quite think she may count upon -several years for this work. But whoever shall attempt it -will find the task bristling with difficulties. Those girls who -most need to be made to think do not wish to; and they will -not voluntarily go into exile during the time of courtship—it -is not likely.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But the bribe of five pounds’ worth of furniture will -secure many. And I am sure there must be hosts of girls -whose hearts and consciences are made tender by love, and -who would most thankfully embrace such an opportunity of -making themselves more worthy to be wives.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes! And it will be a great thing to help these; but -I am afraid the lowest of the low will not be reached.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Even if it be so, it will be much to prevent the class just -above the lowest of the low from sinking down into it. -What are you going to do yourself, Tom? Will you help -Margaret?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I think so,” said Tom. “We have pulled together -well, Margaret and I; but I have not as much of the missionary -spirit as she.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary laughed. “The real truth is, I think, that you will -have to be married. I am sure that in your secret soul you -have a great love for ‘quiet household joys,’ shared by -somebody.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Shared by whom?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! we shall all know some day.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“When?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How can I tell when? Perhaps soon. Certainly at the -right time.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The days of Tom’s holiday passed very pleasantly in -gambols and rambles with the children, in walks over the -hills with Mary and Dr. Stapleton, and at the different -classes which were vigorously carried on in the delightful -“Town of Progress.” Everything which they saw charmed -the visitors, and compelled the Doctor to remark that -if Craighelbyls could be multiplied England would at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>once deserve the name of Christian, which years ago she -claimed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom felt all the time that if only Mr. Knight were at -home the thing would be perfect. Since the place owed -everything to him, he ought really to have been there. She -wondered many times whether he knew of her visit, and -whether it would make any difference to him if he did; and, -after much thought, she concluded that it would not. He -was the one man in England in whom the hopes of the -people were centred; he had been most kind and pleasant -during those days when she had met him in London and the -short visit which he had paid at her father’s house, but it -was not likely that he, of all men, should give a second -thought to her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And yet she rather resented one little circumstance. She -had not felt the slightest possible interest in the man until -he had made her! Why had he put that something into his -manner, and then made no further sign?</p> - -<p class='c011'>Still, it was, of course, an indisputable fact that no one -could see Craighelbyl without feeling the keenest interest in -Arthur Knight, so that was, no doubt, the reason why Tom -thought of him, not only every day, but many times during -the day.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the meantime Mr. Stapleton had been making the most -of his time, and had been assisted by the officials to the -information which he desired. That which he saw he most -heartily approved. The buildings were not for a year’s wear -only, but were meant to last, and Mr. Knight had not put -the work into the hands of a contractor that it might be -done cheaply, but he had only cared to have it well done; -and, consequently, all that modern science had established in -regard to public buildings, factories, and the homes of the -people had been used in the erection of Craighelbyl. Mr. -Felix Stapleton had his dreams. If he should ever be able -he would himself be the founder of a similar place.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Neither he nor his brother could spare many days, even for -the study of so interesting a place as Craighelbyl, though -the Doctor was particularly charmed with some matters, and -especially with the experiences of Dr. Armitt, with whom he -had many conversations. Mr. Knight had placed Dr. Armitt -at Craighelbyl, not so much that he might cure the people -when they were ill, as keep them well; and, understanding -this, the latter was trying various plans. Once a week he -gave a medical lecture; but his audience was a different one -on each of the four Thursdays of the month. One lecture -was to men only, another was to mothers, one was to children, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>and the fourth was an ambulance lecture open to all. The -Doctor knew how to make his talks chatty and humorous; -he had always some story to tell which raised a laugh, and -he was listened to the more regularly for that. Then, -besides, there were examinations, and competitions for -prizes; and by these means he got together the majority of -the residents. He was also the Sanitary Inspector of the -place, and a merciless examiner he made; so that all careless -occupants of houses had a bad half-hour whenever he visited -them, for he was, as one woman said, “awfully masterful and -tyrant-like.” He was; and, what was more, he could keep it -up, so that it was really less trouble for the men and women -to be regularly particular and attentive to their duties than -to clean and turn out places while the Doctor stood fuming -and storming by. And the Doctor did this part of the work -all the more thoroughly because the community was at -present in an entirely healthy condition.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton would have liked to change places with him; -and the two men parted with the understanding that if a -second doctor were required Stapleton should be told of the -circumstance.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was loth to leave Craighelbyl without that which he had -really come for—a talk with Miss Wythburn; and the time -for his departure came before he had the opportunity. But -on the last night of his stay he spoke to Mary’s father of that -which was in his heart.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is so much occupied with Miss Whitwell and with her -work that I have tried in vain to see her alone even for five -minutes,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perhaps Mary has intentionally contrived that it should -be so,” said Mr. Wythburn. “Women are curious creatures, -Doctor, and they read men like a book—or think they do. I -don’t think Mary cares to get married to any one. But you -shall have a chance to ask her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom Whitwell was not nearly ready to return, and neither -could her friend spare her so soon. It was, therefore, easily -managed for the Doctor to have his opportunity.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There need be no beating about the bush,” he said. “I -think you must know what brought me here, Miss Wythburn.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Everybody knows that,” said Mary. “You came to see -Craighelbyl.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; but, most of all, I came to see you. I am not vain -enough or stupid enough to suppose that you have ever -thought of me since you left Scourby.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes; I have thought of you often, Dr. Stapleton,” -said Mary, gently.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>“But I have thought of you every day, and in spite of -myself. I have tried to forget you, because I have feared -that you could not return my love; but I cannot help myself—there -is no other woman in the world for me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary’s eyes filled with tears, for she was so sorry for him. -She had feared this all along, and yet had hoped she might -be mistaken. She liked the Doctor so much too—but that -was all.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is very good of you to care for me,” she said, “after -all that has happened; but I am sorry you do, because I can -never be married. It would not be right.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Doctor misunderstood her, and answered angrily, -“Why is it not right, when Greenholme has been married all -this time?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I was not thinking of him, but of myself. I have my -work here, and am quite content. It is not every woman who -desires to be married, or who ought to take upon herself the -responsibilities of a home. I have chosen a different lot from -many, but it is my own deliberate choice, and I cannot go -back from it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Pardon me,” said the Doctor, “it is a very unnatural -choice. I think the real truth must be, not that you cannot -love, but that you do not care for me. Your occupation is a -noble one, but you would not be prevented from doing the -same kind of work if you were happily married. Is not much -of the philanthropic work of the time done by women whose -hearts are large enough to take in the whole world, and yet -are true to one?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Mary did not wish to pursue that inquiry.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is of no use, Doctor,” she said, “you must accept my -decision as final.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton did not feel that he could do so, but he -judged it better to say no more. He had still his work, and -since the burden of his brother’s affairs had been lifted from -his shoulders, he was much more happy than before. Moreover, -he was trying to live down the unreasonable prejudice -of the people, who quite believed that there was something -wrong about him. Considering all the circumstances of his -life, he was not in a despairing mood when the train that -carried him moved out of the station, and he smiled back -pleasantly into the merry face of Miss Tom Whitwell, and -waved her a farewell, which was also a congratulation upon -her extended holiday.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am sorry they have not seen Mr. Knight,” said Tom; -“it would have made their visit much more pleasant.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And yours too,” agreed Mary, glancing at the brown face -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>of her friend; “perhaps he will return before you leave, Tom. -I wish he may, but he is very busy just now. Father had a -letter from him this morning; but it was only a short one, -and full of his hopes about the new General Election, which -is coming. He did not say when he would be back, but we -may hope it will be soon.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was scarcely likely to be; for although Arthur Knight’s -personal interest in his people and their well-being was great, -he was even more solicitous in regard to his country. He -rejoiced to know that from a thousand pulpits and platforms -the imperative duty of the Church was being announced, -and the need of Christian union insisted upon. To a great -extent, he knew, and deplored the knowledge, that the -Church had lost her hold upon the masses; and he thought -that the coming contest would be a life and death struggle -in more respects than one. Would she awake and put on her -strength, and do the work to which God had appointed her in -the emergency that was at hand? He did not know; but he -hoped.</p> - -<p class='c011'>If England would send to Westminster a body of picked -men, pledged not to party or to politics, but to Christ and -His kingdom, determined to make short work of even high -positions and vested interests if they stood in the way of -righteousness and the people’s good, a body of men of high -character and sound sense and iron resolution, who were -afraid of nothing but the sin that disgraced the nation, a -body of men chosen by the united churches, and well-tested -in the places they were to represent, who would fight -together under one banner, “<em>For Christ and for the People</em>,” -then, indeed, there was hope for the world and for the -Church.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But if not?</p> - -<p class='c011'>During that time of stress it was noticed that Arthur -Knight’s voice rang like a clarion. He spoke as he never -had spoken before, and his urgent thought and impassioned -speech roused many thousands of men. There was coming -to be a look of stern determination on the faces of the people -that had seldom been seen during many years; and they were -making a promise—which they meant to keep—to themselves -and one another, and even to God. This is what it was: -That they would not rest until dishonesty and cruelty, -drunkenness and impurity, were put away from the high -places and the low places in England.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Many sneeringly asked, “Do you hope to convert the -world by Acts of Parliament?” and the reply was “No; we -do not! Conversion is another matter; but we will so punish -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>the perpetrators of these wrongs, and so restrict their power -and influence, that they shall not insult the better sense of -the English people as they have so long done in past years.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Committees were formed everywhere, and meetings were -held in vestries and in chapels, for the Church at last -realised what her business was, and meant to do it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In the very midst of the rush of meetings Arthur Knight -stood aside for two days and let them go on without him. -He disappointed many people; but he believed that he was -doing something of the utmost importance while absenting -himself from the meetings.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He spent those two days in listening to and talking with -the Rev. Peter Macdonald.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Macdonald was the son of a Canadian farmer; and he -was himself, to use his own words, “a priest of the Church -of England.” His ancestors were Scotch, but they had -settled in Canada before he was born. They were nearly -all members of the English Episcopal Church, and young -Peter early evinced a marvellous love of Church history. -The result of his study was that he dreamed day and -night of what the Church might become in England if -only she were as great and as faithful as she might be. He -grew into a young man of fervid imagination and impassioned -speech; and conducted a mission in Canada which -was productive of great good. Then he longed to visit -England, and at length his bishop sent him over with many -letters of introduction, which secured him a welcome in high -places. He was “of the Church Churchy,” as some one told -Knight; but he spoke as few of her sons have been gifted to -speak. And the burden of his speech was this:—</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You have lost too many of the people! Get the people -back. Our Church is theirs, and they must come home. -They threaten us with disestablishment; <em>let us disestablish -ourselves</em>. Let the endowments and the positions go. They -are as nothing in value compared with the people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Knight resolved that he would know this man. He found -him at first rather suspicious of the Dissenter, for such -Arthur declared himself to be, and Knight found some distasteful -things in Macdonald; but neither man was hard to -win, and, when they had spent two days together, they were -fast friends, and had resolved to drop all differences, and -fight side by side for Christian unity.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Instead, therefore, of ignoring each other, or laying plans -to thwart one another, these two young men of many gifts, -who had also much sanctified common-sense between them, -resolved to work into each other’s hands. Each, therefore, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>revealed his designs for the future in perfect assurance that -his confidence would not be abused.</p> - -<p class='c011'>At last Macdonald said, “Knight, I am going to introduce -you to one who is a silent spectator of our work—a young -man, but the greatest man in England.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Knight rose from his seat in excitement. “The Prince?” -he cried; and the answer was, “Yes, the Prince.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight and Peter Macdonald both believed more in -peoples than in princes; but there was at this time in England -a young man who had won great respect and affection for -his nobility of character and goodness of life. He was not a -Prince by title, though one of his parents was of the Royal -family; but the people called him “the Prince,” because he -was princely. It was known that he loved the people, as they -loved him. His tastes led him away from the pursuits and -pleasures commonly adopted by his peers, and he was foremost -in every enterprise that had for its end the amelioration -of the conditions of the poor. He lived as quietly as -was possible, for rumour declared that some of his relatives -were a little jealous of his growing popularity; but it was -impossible for him to remain in obscurity, for he could not -but have a share in the best things of his time.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you know the Prince? How have you managed to -make his acquaintance?” inquired Knight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“In a very simple fashion. He came to a church in which -I was preaching, and after the service he invited me to his -house. If only he had no Royal blood in him, what a sublime -work that man might do in England!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The little Royal blood that he has in him will not hurt -him, but do him good,” said Knight. “You are honoured in -having an acquaintance with him; and do you really mean -that he is coming here?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, I am to take you to him. He wants you to speak -freely to him of all your work, and you will find that his -suggestions are worth their weight in gold, for Solomon’s -wisdom has been given to him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A little later the three young men were seated together in -a large room, substantially, but not luxuriously, furnished. -There was hope for the country in such a trio—a descendant -of the Royal Family, a son of a Canadian farmer and a -clergyman, and a layman, the son of a rich manufacturer. -That the three should have anything in common was one of -the wonderful signs of those wonderful times; but that they -had in common everything which each held dearest was -more remarkable still.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They conversed together, as young patriots must needs do, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>of their country and the services which they desired to render -her; and when they parted, with a strong clasp of the hands -and a “God speed you,” each felt that he had received -strength which would nerve him for his future life whatever -duties it might bring.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIX.<br> <span class='large'>YOUNG ENGLAND.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>As soon as the dissolution of Parliament was declared, -more than the ordinary activity was displayed, and -everywhere for a few days the usual tactics were observed. -The two “great parties,” as they were called, sent representatives -to the various towns, and these issued their addresses, -put in various forms of expression, but all meaning -the same thing: “Send me. I am for progress. Your interests -will be supported, and the Millennium will come, if only you -do your duty and plump for me;” or, “Send me. I am a -patriot of the true colour, and all that is most desirable for -the Empire will be secured, with peace and prosperity, if you -obey your consciences and plump for me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The immediate occasion of the dissolution was that Parliament -was not sufficiently united in regard to the age at -which children should be allowed to leave school and -commence work. The Government and its supporters said -thirteen, the Opposition said fourteen, and got the larger -number of votes.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In almost all the Parliamentary boroughs the work of the -wire-pullers in London, who tried to dictate to the voters as -to the men who were to be their representatives, was in vain. -The towns had already chosen their men. Almost without -exception they were local men, well known to the people, -among whom they bore unblemished characters, and by -whom they were pronounced men of knowledge and ability. -In the country, in more than a few cases, the squire was the -favourite candidate because he was the squire; but the rule -everywhere was not for the man to choose the people, but the -people to choose the man. For once in the history of England -the man did not solicit the suffrages of the voters, but they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>requested him to allow them to place him in Westminster, in -order that he might serve them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was agreed that there should be no canvassing, and -there was therefore less need than usual of workers and conveyances -and all the old-fashioned methods of impelling men -to the poll.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But there was an organisation, alert and active, which -served the good cause in a way so effective as to astonish the -world. It was the society of the Young Crusaders who came -forward at this crisis and showed their power, not only in their -vast numbers, but in their complete discipline. They took the -country by storm. To every political meeting they sent a -representative who could speak, and who asked to be allowed -to place the wishes of the voters of the future before the -voters of to-day. “The laws you make now,” said they, -“will affect us much more than they will you. Ought -we not, therefore, to have a voice in the matter?” And the -voice they raised moved men, and made them stand to their -principles, and gave them courage for the conflict.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They succeeded in getting their colours adopted—“the -red, white and blue of Old England: the red for Battle, the -white for Purity, and the blue for Temperance.” The -Crusaders were themselves seen everywhere during the fray; -their fresh young voices cheered and sang; they cried -“Shame!” whenever unfairness, or slander, or untruthfulness -characterised a speech, and shouted God speed when -they knew and honoured the speaker. It was a great change. -For many years women had taken some part in the political -battles that had been fought; they had addressed meetings, -and canvassed householders, and driven in their carriages to -the scene of action; but it was a new thing for the lads to -take part in an election. They were at present without votes, -but they were learning the duties of citizens as thoroughly -as they were learning their trades, and the real questions that -were at issue were questions in regard to which they were -often less ignorant than their fathers, because they had the -advantage of good, clear-headed, and impartial teachers.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course, many of the newspapers published satirical -articles every day. Were the men of England so fallen, so -lost to the sense of their own manliness, as to be dictated to -by a lot of little Sunday-school boys? The producers of -caricature and illustrators of all the comic papers had a fine -time, <cite>Christian Society</cite> and other journals of a similar type -were more scurrilous than ever, and there was no end to the -sneers at religion and religionists which were produced.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But, for the most part, those whom they were intended to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>hurt and irritate were too busy to take any notice of them, -and so went calmly on their way. The constituencies were -most earnestly appealed to not to send men who were not -altogether, as to their private life and character, the upholders -of purity, honesty, and uprightness. And the greater -number of the constituencies responded. A man might be -rich, but if he paid his workmen poorly it would be vain for -him to seek the suffrages of the people. Or he might be -clever, and be able to talk persuasively; but unless his life -had been speaking in his favour he need not hope to represent -his fellow-men in Parliament. For there was a new -patriotism for the new times—a patriotism which placed in -the forefront of its political battle a banner, with the old -device: “Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin is a -reproach to any people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were other banners with other legends, but they -meant much the same thing—“No More Working for Starvation -Wages,” “No More Unemployed,” “Send Clean Men to -Make Clean Cities,” “For the Women and the Children’s -Sake,” “No More Brute Force,” “A True Man for True -Men.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight declined the invitations of several cities to -represent them. He thought he could serve his country -better outside than inside of Parliament; and he was probably -right, for it was not in him to be in any sense a political man. -But it needs no saying that he was intensely interested in -regard to this election.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And he was one of the few men who do not mind being -laughed at. He laughed with the laughers when in the daily -papers there were articles intended to be funny with such -headings as “A Government of Grandmothers,” or “Old -Maids in Office,” or “The Childishness of Chivalry.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Among the meetings was one that was addressed by a -young Crusader already known to us.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let young Mr. Stapleton talk to us,” shouted a workman, -and the suggestion was so heartily applauded that the lad -was called upon by the Chairman to say a few words.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was very nervous, as a boy in such a position ought to -be; but his voice was clear and distinct, and it rang through -the meeting, touching all hearts.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“One of the rules of our order is that of obedience,” said -Ernest, “and since I am asked to try to speak I must do the -best I can, only begging you to be patient with me, since I -am but a boy. The Young Crusaders are all taking part in -this election, because we believe that no previous Parliament -has had such grave issues depending upon it as this which is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>now being elected. And we are encouraged, as all the world -must be, by the knowledge that, for the first time, Christian -men of all denominations occupy the same platform. The -chosen of the Church will surely be the chosen of the people. -And therefore we pray you to choose wisely. You are preparing -an inheritance for us; let it be one that shall not -bring us shame. We ask of our leaders that they will prove -their power by making England better. We love our -country, and, if necessary, we will fight for her; but we want -a Hercules to clean out all the dark places and lead the -people into the light. Help us, for we are not all strong, by -removing from us the temptations which might cause us to -fall. Send men to Parliament everywhere who will care -more for the good name of England and the future well-being -of her sons than for their own riches. You are our fathers. -Oh! be great that we may be proud of you and copy you. -Let the cause you espouse be the people’s cause, and -especially the cause of the young people. Is it not more -important for you to secure us than wealth? Keep us on -your side, and make for us only such laws as shall tend for -our good. And in return we will honour you, and work for -you, and love you. But my time to talk is not yet come, and -so I will cease trying, only I ask you to remember the boys -when you are making up your next legislature.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The young orator had made some long halts between his -sentences, and sometimes it had seemed as if he were reciting -from some book which he had studied; but on the whole he -made an excellent impression.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There’s a good time coming when a youngster in a jacket -can talk like that,” said a man.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes,” replied another with a sigh; “the next generation -will be better than we are.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If we do our duty by them! We were left too much to -ourselves, you know. Our grandfathers believed in the stick, -and had their boys well in hand. Our fathers went too much -the other way, and didn’t care what became of us, so long as -we got out of their way. But our boys don’t want to be let -alone; they want to be looked after and helped; and if we -do it there will be a fine time to follow ours. I wish I could -live to see it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Well, anyway, we will put our man in, for he is one of the -right sort.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, we shall do that, sure enough.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And so they did.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was no more bitter struggle anywhere than at -Scourby, where Mr. Whitwell and his friends had resolved -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>upon wresting the seat from Mr. Richard Lavender, though -there were several other places in which the battle was -fought on the same lines.</p> - -<p class='c011'>In Scourby, since the churches had decided to unite in -Christian and philanthropic endeavour of all kinds, there -had been a marked change. Every building consecrated -to the worship of God had been a centre round which all -sorts of plans for ameliorating the condition of the poor had -been tried. One man, at his own expense, had rented a couple -of cottages, and there provided occupations of different -kinds for those who were out of work. Another cottage -had been taken by a lady, who kept it for the use of mothers -who might come there to be helped in their cooking, sewing, -or anything else that they had in hand. The committee of -Helpfulness had been so successful that the whole town had -been canvassed, and there was no one in the place who had -been overlooked or disregarded. And, best of all, the children -were under control in their times of play as well as during -their school hours. And all this told upon the working men, -on whose votes the election depended; so that, although it -could not even yet be said that they could be got to flock -into the different places of worship, they did not all flock -to public-houses; and they were permeated with the idea that -their best friends and staunchest helpers and supporters were -Christians.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was strange that they had ever believed otherwise; but -many of them had, and the fact that at last they were being -convinced of the truth was an unspeakable gain.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were some lively scenes in Scourby. Mr. Richard -Lavender was every evening in some public-house or other, -drinking with the voters, smoking with them, and promising -them everything which they liked to ask. But the public-house -business was not what it used to be. There were so -many other comfortable meeting-places for men in those -days, and so many men meant business of another kind, that -the number of votes secured over the pot and the glass were -fewer than ever before.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Still, there were enough of Lavender’s supporters to have -interfered with the right of free speech if the populace had -permitted it. There was one public meeting called in support -of Mr. Whitwell which was the scene of a disturbance. -Men had been primed with beer, and sent on purpose to -disturb the proceedings, though as soon as Mr. Whitwell -appeared a most enthusiastic welcome was accorded him, -and the cheers quite drowned the hootings and the groans. -But when the first speaker commenced it was found that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>interruptions were to be the order of the day; and then -it was proved that an indignant working man cannot be -insulted with impunity. There were no cries of “Turn him -out!” but whenever in the audience a man endeavoured -to prevent a speaker from being heard, two men quietly -seized him, and three or four others surrounded him, and he -was ejected with very little ceremony. Still, even that was -so unpleasant that Mr. Whitwell decided that his election -should not be won by talk at public meetings, and his spoken -address was a very short one.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“At former political meetings,” he said, “the interrupters -have been lads and young men. Gentlemen, all is well now, -for the <em>youth of England is with us</em>. (Cries of “Hurrah!” -“Thank God!” and “Don’t be too sure of that!”) I cannot -be too sure! I know. The Coming Race will set many -wrong things right. As for me, I am here not by my own -wish, but yours. Unless you think I am able to carry -out your wishes you will not send me to Westminster -as your representative. You know me, for my life has been -before you many years. I do not believe that all men can be -equal; but I believe that no man ought to be poor. I do -not think that my farm ought to be cut up into allotments; -but I think that every man who wants a bit of ground for his -own cultivation ought to be able to hire or purchase it on -easy terms, and that the men whom I employ should get a -fair share of the increase. I do not think that labour ought -to tyrannise over capital, or capital over labour, for neither -can do without the other; but I think that capital is for the -many rather than the few. I am sure that every man who is -willing to work ought to have work to do, and that his wages -should be sufficient to keep in comfort. But I also believe -that every man ought to work; and if he is lazy, and will -not, then he should be starved until he does. I believe that -it is the duty, as it ought to be pleasure, of every father of a -family to work for his wife and children, and that he should -be compelled to do it. I believe that every brutal husband -or father should be dealt with according to the old law—‘With -the measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you -again,’ and that any selfish drunkard who ill-treats a woman -or a child should be made to feel the same pain he has -inflicted, to hunger if he has made another hunger, and to be -beaten if he has beaten another.” Here there was an interruption, -and Mr. Whitwell said distinctly, “Yes, I would -have the whip invariably punish cruelty.” Some one cried, -“It unmans a man to thrash him!” and the speaker replied, -“Any man who strikes a woman or a child is unmanned -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>already; he is not a man, but a coward.” “But,” he continued, -“I would make it penal for a landlord to receive rent -for an insanitary house, or for a master to compel his hands -to work in unhealthy conditions; and I would have every -man, woman, and child enjoy some leisure as well as work, -some pleasure as well as duty. And, gentlemen, if a -rich English merchant sends out an unseaworthy ship, or -a cargo deliberately intended to ruin a race of savages, I -would have him imprisoned. If a magistrate should take the -part of the rich against the poor, I would have him deposed. -In a word, what I long for, and will do my best to promote, -is justice! Down with hypocrisy, whatever garb it wears! -Let us have real men, for the times demand them. I do not -say to you that I am one of these; I only say that I will try -to be; and, if I cannot hasten on the right, at least I will -not hinder it. Gentlemen, I shall say no more at any other -time or in any other place during this contest. The issue -shall be as you desire!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dr. Stapleton and Mr. Dallington walked away from the -meeting together.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The streets are much more quiet than at the last election,” -remarked John; “but that is because the public-houses are -now closed at ten, and night is not made hideous by the shouts -of half-drunken men and women.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And the election will be as we wish it, for the same -reason,” said the Doctor. “I am not as advanced as some -people in regard to total abstinence, you know; but this -Local Option arrangement is splendid.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! there has been a vote to-day, has there not, to decide -whether the public-houses shall be open or closed on the day -of the election?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and it is decided that they are to be closed.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really! The majority has it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and a very respectable majority it is. The figures -were handed to me as I left the hall. It was not a large vote—a -good many abstained from recording their wishes; but -there is no mistake as to the desires of the community that -this issue shall not be befogged by drink.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am exceedingly glad to hear it. Then there is not a -shade of doubt but that our man will win?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not a shade!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXX.<br> <span class='large'>PEACE!</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>“Victory all along the lines!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>This was the triumphant report made from a thousand -pulpits on the Sunday following the elections, and the <i><span lang="la">Te -Deum</span></i> was sung in the churches with increased fervour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“So political!” said the objectors; but since politics had -now become a part of Christianity, why not?</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was great rejoicing at Scourby and Darentdale and -its neighbourhood, for Mr. Whitwell was duly elected by a -majority of undreamed of magnitude.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And if they could have understood it, there would have -been still greater gladness in the hearts of a million of the -children of the nation, for the first duty to which the members -of the new Parliament were pledged to address themselves -was the amelioration of their condition. Henceforth, -every child’s life was to be considered sacred, and of priceless -value to the State. There were to be no more little lives sacrificed -to the passion of brutal men and women, for it was at last -recognised that every child born in England had a soul, had -its rights, its powers also, and possibilities; and if there were -parents who did not desire to own it and care for it, the -country did. How it was to be paid for, and who was to pay—whether -it was to be housed, fed, and trained by the State, -which would recoup itself by certain services rendered in the -future; or whether unwilling parents should be compelled to -work for their own children; also, whether it would be more -easy to secure for the child the love and motherly ministrations -which are absolutely essential to its well-being in the -home of its parents—or in other homes, from parently, but -childless, people, were details for the Government to settle. -“It is your duty to solve these and other problems which are -waiting,” said the people to their representatives. “It is our -will that every abuse which is a national disgrace shall be -swept away; and if you have not the ability to do it, or do -not care to take the necessary trouble, we have made a mistake -in our choice, and shall call upon you to vacate the seats -which others can more worthily fill.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So it was perfectly understood that there were to be no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>more days weakly and wickedly wasted by the stupid talk -of obstructives, many of whom had gone to Westminster -hitherto for the expressed purpose of preventing the opposite -party from doing anything, since they were not strong -enough to do anything themselves. It had been prophesied -years before that when the Church “meant business” there -would be change in many things, and the Church meant -business now, and was determined that henceforth in -England the Houses of Legislature should be composed -of real men, with not one idiot among them. And it will -be readily understood that there were, therefore, great rejoicings -among all men and women who were the true -patriots of the land.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But while these changes, for which, during many years, -a silent preparation had been going on, began to be accomplished, -there were the usual joys and sorrows in the domestic -lives of the people.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Henry Harris recorded his vote early, as did also Dr. -Stapleton, and then they both went away to London, the -former to consult the greatest physician of the day, and the -latter to accompany him, and give him such support as -friendship could if he should need it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Persons in search of the dramatic elements of our life -in its reality would scarcely find them more developed than -in the house of an eminent doctor. In the waiting-room, -where patients gather and await their turn, what striking -contrasts and vivid harmonies there are! Here is an unloved -wife, who yet desperately clings to the life that has so -little to offer here; and there is one so deeply loved that her -husband would part with his all to buy one little year longer -which they might spend together. Here is a man who might -drop out of Society at once and never be missed; and -there is another, of whom it is said in the town of his residence -that he cannot possibly be spared, for there is no -one, and even no dozen of men, who could fill his place. -Yonder is one for whom his mother prays: “Oh, take him -that he may do no more evil!” And here another for whom -ten thousand people pray, “Oh, spare him that he may yet -further bless us and glorify Thee!” And what breathless -suspense there is in the consulting-room of the great man! -No prisoner at the bar waits for the verdict of the jury with -more consuming anxiety than does the innocent man, whose -heart is full of his wife and children, as the perspiration -stands in great drops on his forehead, while the sentence of -hope or of doom is pronounced by the oracle. He may be -wrong, and often is, this man whose fiat has such terrible -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>power; but if he has a heart it must often know the acutest -pangs of sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Harris was pale but calm when Dr. Stapleton introduced -him. Really, he did not share his friend’s fears. It -was true that he had suffered much, but not enough to -indicate any disease that might prove fatal. Of that he -felt sure, or thought he did; but his eyes had read the faces -of the men and women who had waited as he had, and -his feelings had been greatly touched. It was more of them -than of himself he thought while he answered the physician’s -questions and submitted to his examination. He was surprised -when the Doctor at last said, “If you can spare -the time to wait I should like to call a friend who understands -these cases even better than I.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly I can wait,” replied Harris; “I have no other -errand in London but this.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then I will see if he can be summoned,” said the Doctor, -as he went towards his telephone.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are not quite sure whether there is anything the -matter with me?” asked Harris.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Perfectly sure,” was the reply; “but there may be something -that can be done.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The other doctor arrived, and Harris was not kept long in -suspense. “I am sorry to tell you that yours is a hopeless -case.” It was put bluntly, and yet the tones of the man’s -voice were as gentle as he could make them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is no cure for me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid none; at least, we do not know of any.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Harris’s face became white to the lips, and he did not -speak for a few seconds. Presently he said, “Very well. -Other men have had to bear pain for many years; what they -have done I must do. I suppose it will be years?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you positively wish me to tell you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Most certainly; the exact truth, as far as you know it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid it will not even be months.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The doctor considerately left his patient for a few minutes -after he had thus pronounced sentence upon him. Stapleton -was waiting anxiously. He was almost certain there was no -hope, and yet it was a keen disappointment to him when he -found his worst fears confirmed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He will bear it like a man,” he said, “for there are few -better and braver men in the world than Harris. I am truly -sorry. I shall lose a friend whom I greatly respect. You can -have no idea what a fine fellow he is!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Has he a wife and children?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; he has a granddaughter, or a ward, I do not know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>which—a young lady who loves and honours him; but all the -village in which he lives will mourn him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The worst of it is the horrible suffering he must bear.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, yes! It is terrible to think of what it must be before -release comes. How long will it be?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Three or four weeks probably, not more, though he is a -strong man, and I should judge that he has not played fast -and loose with his constitution.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>When Stapleton joined his friend he was met with the -kind smile which always had a wonderful tenderness and -sweetness in it, quite characteristic of the man. It almost -brought tears to Stapleton’s eyes now, and he silently -grasped the hand that was quite firm, and whose clasp was -as true as friendship itself. “It is all right, Stapleton,” he -said. “Do not grieve for me; and let us get home as soon as -we can.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The short railway ride between London and Darentdale -was through a pretty well-wooded country. It had never -appeared so beautiful as now to the eyes that would soon be -closed to it all. The man had loved Nature in all her moods, -and she seemed to put on her most beautiful garments in -which to receive the farewells of her friend. His eyes swam -with tears several times as they looked out at the cool woodland -ways, the green meadows, and the bright blue skies. -When the train stopped at one of the village stations a lark -was pouring down a shower of song upon them. Harris was -glad it was so happy, but the whispering leaves seemed to -have more sympathy with him. It was as if they knew that -his life was as transient as theirs, and they were sorry for -him as for themselves. “We shall probably pass away -together,” said his thought. “They will fall to the ground, -and so shall I. But I am no leaf, to perish when my body -withers. There is a future for me. Where? I shall soon -know. I am not afraid, for God is love.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose you would rather not talk,” said Dr. Stapleton.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank you. I have much to think of. I must put my -house in order, you know, since I shall surely die,” he -answered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then he thought of Margaret. He must make her -future more sure. He must indeed tell her everything now, -and he would see Dallington first of all. They must be married -at once; there was really no reason why they should not -be; and if they were, and they both knew all, he would have -no misgivings in regard to his dear child to make his death -the harder. “Presently,” he reminded himself, “it will be -too late to do; I shall only be able to bear.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>Margaret’s heart sank with dismay when she saw him. He -looked like a man who, though habitually calm, had been -forced into a conflict so bitter that it had taken his very life -from him. She threw her arms around him, and drew him -to a chair, and put his head upon her breast, and kissed him -with the fervour and tenderness of a daughter. He had -not told her that he was ill; but she had feared, and now she -knew.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dear, darling, how tired you are!” she said. “I shall -fetch a sponge and bathe your face, and you must have some -tea at once. Rest a little first.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He did not speak, but lifted his hand caressingly to her -face, and felt that, but for distressing her, he must have -sobbed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>After partaking of some refreshment, however, he revived, -and they both tried to be cheerful.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How have you got on without me to-day?” he asked. -“Has there been a crowd of customers? Have you sold any -more of the poets?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“At one time the shop was very full,” she answered. “There -were three people in it together, and all talking at once.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How did you manage without assistance? Did you call -Ann to help you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I could not, for Ann was in the midst of one of her most -thrilling stories, which she was recounting to the baker, and -I knew that genius does not like to be interrupted. But I -was as adroit as I could be, and my customers were patient; -so we managed fairly. And I have such news for you—James -Peters is engaged.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Really? Well, he’s a nice boy, and deserves a good wife. -Who is it that he has chosen?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Guess!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Nancy Jones? Emma Swift? Louisa Mellars? No? -I give it up.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I think it is very ungallant of you not to guess me. Why -should it not be me? I am tall enough and young enough -and all the rest enough for him, I hope.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He knows better than to choose you, Madge. Tell me, -now—Jennie Swain? Well, I never!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But so it is; Jennie has the prize, and a dozen of us have -nothing but the power and privilege of tearing our hair if we -please.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You respect your hair, Madge, far too highly to tear it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>So they talked on, while a great burden of fear was on -Margaret’s heart, and it seemed to Harris that the shadowy -man with the scythe stood behind his chair.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>There was presently a pause in the conversation; and -afterward Harris resolved to prepare Margaret a little for -what was coming.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What do you think took me to London this morning, -Madge?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The train, dear.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How clever a guesser <em>you</em> are! And the train was -punctual. I went to see the great Doctor Fulton.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad you did, for Dr. Stapleton is young, and has -had comparatively little experience. Have you brought home -some medicine? It must be time for you to take it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is no use to take the medicine. He says that nothing -can cure me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Graf! Graf! You must not say such a thing as -that to me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you must know it, my darling, some time, and soon, -for it is not going to be long; and if you love me you will be -glad of that, for the pain of the disease which I have is -terrible to bear, and it would be hard for you to see me -suffer.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, my dear, it cannot be! There is surely some other -doctor who can do something. What becomes of all this -modern science that boasts itself so much if it cannot help one -in an emergency like this?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is all right, Madge, dear; a man must die some time. -Of course, he does not want to, and never would, but we all -have to, you know. Life is very short here, but it is continued -somewhere—of that I am increasingly sure.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A great darkness came over Margaret. What could she do -if this best friend of hers were to be taken now, when it -seemed he could the least be spared?</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I will tell you all you ought to know, dear, about yourself, -and give you the keys so that you may find the money -you will need, and——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A faintness came over him, and he gasped for breath.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, not now,” cried Margaret. “Do not distress yourself. -I will not hear anything to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“To-morrow, then.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, to-morrow, or next week, or any time. It does not -matter about me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Margaret, sing to me that hymn of Faber’s—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I worship Thee, sweet Will of God,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And all Thy ways adore,</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c016'>It will do us both good just now; if we sing the words we -shall be able to feel the sentiment.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>But Margaret was on her knees by his side, sobbing out -her grief. She soon was ashamed of herself, however. She -must bear up for his sake, who had so much more to bear.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I cannot sing, dear,” she said; “but we will each have the -book open before us, and I will play it through.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>She did so, and then he asked her to read to him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The prayer of Jesus for His disciples, Margaret, and His -words to them—they are for you and for me, dear, as much -as for any one else.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Surely.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And Margaret read the wonderful words to which we all -turn, quite naturally, in the supreme moments of our lives, -and which comfort us as nothing else can do when death or -trouble has forced itself into our houses and will not be -turned out. Margaret knew them by heart, and so did Henry -Harris, and yet they seemed to have new power and grace on -that evening, for the face of Harris was lighted with joy -as he listened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“‘Never man spake like this Man,’” he said. “His Sermon -on the Mount is for everyday life, and this, His last -address, is for the evening, when the working day is over and -rest is near. I have not done all that I might have done; -but I am really tired, and shall be as glad of my rest as if I -had deserved it. I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, -for Thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell in safety. Margaret, -what a marvellous conqueror of men is this Jesus -Christ!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, yes!” said Margaret, with glowing eyes; “and all the -world must surely call Him Lord some day.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Someday. Yes. I wonder which day it will be, Margaret. -I think we could sing now, dear. Let it be, ‘Jesu, -lover of my soul.’”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They sang it together—there is no hymn like it for such a -time. Harris had a good bass voice and Margaret a sweet -mezzo-soprano; and the hymn rose softly but melodiously -to heaven. It is a fine prayer, and at the same time a grand -ascription of praise. When it was ended, Harris repeated the -collect, “Lighten our darkness,” and Margaret the Lord’s. -Prayer, and both hearts were calmed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is time you were in bed, dear,” Margaret said; “you -are so tired.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I think I shall sleep well to-night. Hark! the boys -in the street are crying the state of the poll! See if Whitwell -is all right, dear.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“A magnificent majority,” said Margaret, holding the -paper towards him.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>“Hurrah! I am very glad! The old bad times are past. -The new aristocracy of character takes its proper place. -The best men, the true kings, whom God will crown, will be -henceforth the rulers of men. I hope you will live long to -enjoy it all, Margaret. As for me I shall be satisfied -when——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He fell back, and Margaret thought he had fainted. She -called Ann Johnson to open all the doors, while she tried to -restore him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington and Dr. Stapleton at that moment came -to bring the news of the election, and, seeing the door open, -entered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He is faint!” cried Margaret, in agony.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Dr. Stapleton said, gently, “It is more than faintness. -It is perfect peace.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXI.<br> <span class='large'>FROM DARENTDALE TO HIGH SEATHORPE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>All was peace. It was impossible to look upon the stately -face and form of the dead man and not feel that Christ -had laid His hand upon the white brow, and said, “Peace, be -still.” The doubts and impatience which had characterised -him in his earlier years were set at rest once for all. The -strife was over, the misgivings were quieted, and if the -questions were not yet answered, the questioner was asleep -in deep repose.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret could not at first believe that the kind heart -which had loved her, and the lips which had blessed her, were -still for ever.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Dr. Stapleton, surely you can revive him,” she said, “and -bring him back again to life, if only for a few weeks.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I would if I could, perhaps,” he said; “but no mortal -power could do it, and you should be thankful that he is -spared the suffering which we feared.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“For his sake, my darling, you must not mourn,” said -John Dallington tenderly, as he took her in his arms, and -tears were in his eyes for her sorrow.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not mourn!” Had any one else uttered the words -Margaret must have felt that she was being mocked. She -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>would mourn for him through the rest of her life, for was he -not the only father whom she had ever known, the friend and -protector of her infancy and girlhood? Oh, that she had -loved him more, that she had expressed her gratitude more -earnestly! And yet she was sure that he had understood, -and was satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The inhabitants of Darentdale were greatly shocked by the -news of his death. The familiar figure, the genial voice, -the friendly hand had seemed to belong to the place for ever.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Harris dead! Who will care for us now?” said the -children. “There is no one to take his place,” said the men. -“He had a good word for us all—he understood us,” said the -women. There was no home which was not darkened by the -shadow that had fallen, and very few individuals who did not -sympathise with Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But there was one person who laughed cruelly at that -which brought sadness to so many. John Dallington took -the news to his mother. “He died suddenly,” he told her, -“but the doctors had only that day pronounced him incurably -diseased; so the sudden death was a blessing to him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Did the doctors frighten him to death, then?” asked -Mrs. Hunter.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not think he was afraid to die; he was too brave a -man for that; but his heart must have been very weak.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And so my enemy is dead!” said Mrs. Hunter. “I can -scarcely believe it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“He was not your enemy, mother. He was everybody’s -friend. If you had known him you must have known that.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How I hated him!” said Mrs. Hunter.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, and it was most absurd of you, mother, for he never -injured you in the least thing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, indeed, he did! He had my money. What will -become of it now? If he had been a just man he would have -bequeathed it to me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John was fast losing patience. This idea which had -possessed his mother was nothing less than a craze.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The money was not yours, and never could have been,” he -said. “Do be reasonable! How can you talk of justice, -when you are so unjust in your judgment of him? Oh, -little mother, how much happier you would be if you would -only be kind! Do cast out the evil spirit of jealousy which -has poisoned so many years of your life, and see things as -they are. There will come a day when you, too, will need -mercy——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“As Henry Harris does now.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; and as we shall soon. Be yourself merciful therefore -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>now. He has gone home to God. He is the Judge, and -He only knew all about Mr. Harris.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is there a God? He did not believe in one.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How can you say so, mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am not the only one who says so.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No one says so who knew the man. He certainly had -what many of us have not, the Christian spirit of love and -helpfulness, which made him the friend of everybody. But, -mother, even if he was as wrong as you think him, it is time -to forgive him now. I wish you would do a kind thing for -me. Do you care for me in the least, my mother?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You know that I care for no one but you, John.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Then do me this kindness. Everybody will be calling on -Miss Miller in this her time of trouble. Will you not call -too?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That girl! How dare you ask me!” Mrs. Hunter -started up in her fury, and her eyes blazed forth on her -son. Then followed a string of invectives, and even of -curses, such as made John shudder. As he looked and -listened, a great fear entered his heart. Surely his mother -must be going mad! It was impossible in any other way to -account for her rage and hate. She was in a frightful -passion; her face was ghastly, her hands clutched each other, -and there was such a baleful light in her eyes that John was -grieved beyond expression. He tried to quiet her, but it was -of no use, and presently he forced her into her own room that -the servants might not hear her ravings.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Poor John! “There is more trouble coming to me,” he -said, and he was right.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It is only natural that there should be sorrow when a good -man dies; the world cannot afford to lose him, and the people -feel in a sense orphaned. At Darentdale they had never seen -such a day in the memory of the oldest inhabitant as that of -the funeral of Henry Harris. Every shop was closed, every -window had its blind down. No arrangement was made for -a public funeral; but the people obeyed the impulses of their -own hearts, and the highest and the lowest showed their -sorrow in every possible way. The whole village stood -around the grave, and sobbed forth its grief. Positively -the only persons who held aloof were Mrs. Hunter and -Mr. William Hunter.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Vicar held a service in the church; he was visibly -affected as it proceeded, for he felt that he had lost a friend. -At the grave the service was most impressive; and there was -a ring of certainty in the Vicar’s voice as he pronounced the -words which seemed to him to carry more meaning than ever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>now. “Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of His -great mercy to take unto Himself the soul of our dear -brother here departed, we therefore commit his body to -the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, -in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal -life, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change our -vile body, that it may be like unto His glorious body, -according to the mighty working, whereby He is able to -subdue all things unto Himself.” The service did not close -without earnest words to those who felt themselves bereaved, -urging them to carry on the good work which Harris had -begun, and to copy his character—a character which, the -Vicar declared, must have been founded on the religion of -the Lord Jesus Christ.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was not during the funeral, nor even for a day or two -afterwards, that the desolateness of her position forced itself -upon Margaret, for it is never while the body of the beloved -one is in the house, and the mind is forced to lend itself to -the customary preparations for the signs of mourning (stupid -enough in themselves, but serviceable in that they compel the -thought from the acute woe of the first terrible days)—it is -never then that the loss is realised in its greatness. When -the last caller has spoken the condolences which he meant to -be kind, and the door is shut, enclosing the empty house, it is -then that the weight of the loss is most crushing. To -Margaret everything seemed to have gone with that presence -which had pervaded the house. The shutters had not been -taken down from the windows of the little shop, but Margaret -knew without looking for them where the books were -which he loved, and the papers he had handled. The -animals that he had fed looked at her with wistful eyes that -made Margaret weep afresh. The chair in which he had sat -seemed to hold a shadowy form, and Margaret could not but -throw herself beside it and cry—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“O, for the touch of a vanished hand,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And the sound of a voice that is still!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>It was not the time for her lover to speak of his love, or to -urge its claims. John felt that all that he could do was to sit -sometimes by her side, that she might get what comfort she -could from his presence. She was so entirely alone in the -world that he thought she must consent to marry him. -What else should she do? And as he said this to himself a -great joy of hope filled him. He loved her so greatly—his -own beautiful darling, that he would gladly live with her in -this little home, and leave his own to his mother; or he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>would take her beyond the seas, and work for her as a -common emigrant, and feel himself a crowned king when she -rewarded him with her love. There was nothing—nothing -that he would not do to possess her; and surely the time was -nearer than ever now.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But a few days afterward a terrible thing happened, which -put that for which he longed even farther away than it had -seemed before, and which would have made a weaker woman -than Margaret really ill.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was evening, and Ann Johnson had gone to visit some -friends, so that Margaret was left in the house alone. Her -thoughts were very sad ones. She was trying to face her -future and arrange her course of action, but it was very -difficult. She shrank from a lonely lot, as every woman does. -And what was she to do? The new work that was waiting -for her seemed less attractive now. The poor girls who -needed care and love and training became less interesting to -her mind as she thought of her own position, and felt that -she was herself a poor girl, needing everything. And, -besides, how could she give up the Old House, which her -grandfather had loved, and which belonged to her now? -And, on the other hand, how could she live in it without him? -She was not obliged to remain there, even if she did not -accept the other engagement which had been offered her, for -Mr. Harris had property, and had left her with a competency. -But how could she go away and leave John? He had become -unutterably dear to her in this time of her sorrow, for he had -been most thoughtful and kind and strong for her, and she -felt that she would have given much if she might have laid -her head upon his shoulder and said, “John, take me anywhere -you please, only do not leave me.” And might she not -do this? Was it right to let Mrs. Hunter keep them apart, -and spoil both their lives? She did not love John as -Margaret did, or she would not have made him unhappy. -Surely she must give way at last. Why not now? If only -she could see her and talk to her!</p> - -<p class='c011'>The front door was opened when Margaret’s thoughts had -reached this point. “Ann is back soon,” she said to herself, -and then it was borne in upon her that it was not Ann who -was approaching. Neither was it John. Who could it be -that came so unceremoniously into the house? A nameless -fear possessed her, and she arose to meet her visitor. It -was nearly dark, and the lamps were not yet lighted; but -she saw at a glance that Mrs. Hunter stood before her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter in that house, unaccompanied, and at that -hour! What could it mean? Margaret held out her hand, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>and looked her full in the face, and at that moment the swift -conviction that had passed through John’s mind passed -through hers also—Mrs. Hunter had become insane. Hate -had made her mad.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will you take a seat, Mrs. Hunter?” said Margaret, -trying not to be nervous. “I am afraid you must be tired -after walking so far. It is a beautiful night—at least—no—it -rains, and I see you are wet. May I help you to remove -your cloak?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter answered not a word. She sat down wearily -in the chair, and passed her hand over her face; but the next -instant she sprang up, and to Margaret’s surprise—and, it -must be confessed, to her terror also—she seized her by the -shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have you now, you Margaret Miller,” she said in dreadful -tones, “and I shall make you do as I wish, for I will kill -you—I will kill you if you do not! Show me now, instantly, -before any one comes, where is the hidden treasure, the -gold that belongs to me and mine, which you have in this -house?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret was a strong young woman, with a considerable -amount of physical power, for which at the moment she felt -thankful; but the grip of Mrs. Hunter’s hands upon her was -so violent that it was almost certain that, small as she was, -compared with Margaret, she could win a victory over her -opponent if it came to a struggle in deadly earnest.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What is there in this house which belongs to you?” said -Margaret. “I do not want to keep anything that is not -mine.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But you and that bad man have kept it—ah! I am glad -he is dead; and there is only you now—only you—and you -are nothing! Give me my own! Where is it? I want it for -my son—the gold that his uncle had gained, and which is his -by right. The lack of it has ruined us! It has made a -wicked woman of me, and it will make me mad! Give it to -me now! Show me its hiding-place, and I will take it. Do as -I tell you, or you shall die!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret said that she did not really know whether she -could find it. And in truth she felt that she would only too -gladly give up every coin there was. It was true, she supposed, -that this gold, for which she cared so little, was the -thing which brought so much hate and misery, and was the -real cause of separation between John and his mother, and -also was the secret of her hatred. She would give it to the -woman who wanted it, and then, perhaps, the trouble would -be over.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>“Let me get a light,” said Margaret, “and see if I can do -as you wish. It is nearly dark.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Mrs. Hunter held her, and laughed wildly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! you think to escape me, but you shall not. I will go -with you while you get a light. But you do not need a light. -I know the chest. Where is it? Give me the keys. I will -hold you till you do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If you hold me how can I get you the keys?” cried Margaret; -and then she felt herself turn cold with fear, for Mrs. -Hunter began screaming terribly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret wondered what she could do. Her nerves had -already been very much shaken, and this seemed really more -than she could bear. She would like to have rushed into the -street and summoned help, but she would not do that for -John’s sake; she must pacify and satisfy his mother in some -way, and get her home, and into John’s care before any one -knew what had occurred. As for the money——</p> - -<p class='c011'>At that moment Ann Johnson came in. She stared at -Mrs. Hunter, and saw what was the matter. Margaret -signed to her to be quiet, but before she could speak Ann -rushed out of the house again, greatly to Margaret’s -vexation. But Ann had seen Mr. Dallington in the village, -and had decided that the right thing was to fetch him. -She had the good sense to speak quietly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Your mother is ill,” she said. “She is at our house. -Come directly, but say nothing about it—we must keep it to -ourselves.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There is no need to describe the scene which followed—a -very painful one, which the three persons who witnessed it -never forgot. Ann showed herself invaluable in the emergency, -and John succeeded at last in getting his mother -home.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Ann could not quite make up her mind whether Mrs. -Hunter was insane or intoxicated, but she had not much -time to consider the question, for Margaret had borne all -that she could bear, and Ann’s hands were full for the -present.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next morning Margaret wrote accepting the management -of the home for training young girls for their future -life.</p> - -<p class='c011'>John called in the afternoon, looking so ill that Margaret’s -heart ached for him. She put her arms around him, and -touched his forehead with her lips.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, my dear, I wish I could help you,” she said. “Yours -is a worse trouble than mine.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Were you not frightened last night, Margaret?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>“Yes, I was, and terribly surprised; but I saw at once that -Mrs. Hunter was ill. Is she better to-day?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is quiet and exhausted. Margaret, what am I to do?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You must take care of her, and nurse her. Let Ann -Johnson come and help you. Mrs. Hunter seemed to like -her. I cannot stay here, John, and you must take this house, -and all that is in it. I do not want the money. I have no -use for it, and I think your mother will get better, and look -at things differently, if I am no longer here to irritate her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I shall want some one to help me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, you will, dear; but I must not come. It would make -her worse if I were near. Oh, John! John! I wonder why -such trouble is allowed to come to you. I would give my life -to help you if I might; but you must bear it all alone. -Perhaps Mrs. Hunter is not really as ill as we fear.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is worse than I thought her. I am afraid of the -future. Is there hope anywhere? Margaret, you will always -love me whatever comes?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Always, always; be very sure of it; and when I may I -will come to you. But for the present you must take this -house and the money, and let your mother do as she likes -with it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are not exactly a woman of business, my dear,” said -John. “You cannot give up your house and money like this, -you know. Neither must you go away.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, John, I must—for the present, at all events. There -is no other way out of the difficulty.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John considered gravely. Love ought to be first, he -thought; did not every one say it was the greatest force in -the world? But Duty? John Dallington and Margaret -Miller gave Duty the highest place in their lives, and both -knew that neither could be happy by trying to put even love -itself before it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I can scarcely tell, I do not really know what is right,” -said John. “I could not put my mother into an asylum, unless -it should become absolutely necessary; and neither could I -let her be a prisoner in her own house. And just now -I think that she is not in a fit state to be left without my -oversight, and, therefore, it seems necessary for me to -remain at home with her. As for you, my darling, I -am afraid it would not be safe to bring you to my home at -present. And yet, how can I let you go far from me? -Cannot you remain here for awhile?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, John, I will go to High Seathorpe and commence this -new work which has been given me to do. I shall be the -better for such an occupation. It will absorb my thoughts -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>and fill my days with congenial labour. I wrote this morning -accepting the position, and Ann posted the letter.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well,” said John, with a sigh. “I suppose we must -take life as we find it. Perhaps things will right themselves, -and bring us happiness by the time that we are too old to -enjoy it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret laughed gently. “We are both young,” she said, -“and we shall be faithful to each other. Nor shall we have -long to wait. Let us do the right and leave it. But, John, I -must show you that money which your mother thinks, and I -think, ought to be yours. Come and see where it is; and -I hope you will agree with me as to what should be done with -it. You do not want to see it? But you must, please.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But John would not be persuaded; and his face flushed -with anger. “I will not see it,” he said. “I want to know -nothing whatever about it. I am sick of it. You ought to -put it away in a bank; it is absurd of you to keep it in the -house. If it became known that you had it on the premises -you might be robbed or murdered on account of it. But I -don’t care what becomes of it so long as I never hear of -it again. Sometimes it seems that the only reason why you -consent to marry me at all is that that detestable money -may be forced upon me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret turned away with tears in her eyes. John had -never spoken to her so angrily before; and at that moment -she felt also as if she did not care what became of the money.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Since we have to part so soon you might be kind to me,” -she said; and, of course, John called himself a brute, and -begged her pardon.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A few days later, Margaret and Ann Johnson locked up the -house, and went into Yorkshire to open the Home which was -already prepared for its purpose.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Smart met them at High Seathorpe, a station between -Scarborough and Whitby, and took them to the house. It -stood upon the moors, in a sheltered hollow, with a few brave -trees surrounding it, and from its grounds, as well as from its -windows, magnificent sea-views were to be obtained.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad to welcome you, for my client’s sake, Miss -Miller,” said Mr. Smart. “I am afraid he will never be able -to see for himself how the work on which he has set his heart -progresses, for he is ill; but it is a comfort to him that you -have consented to come. I think you will like your surroundings, -and High Seathorpe is exceedingly bracing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Margaret was weary from her journey, and the place -looked bleak and cold in the grey of the evening. Her -thoughts went back regretfully to John, and also to her own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>cosy little home at Darentdale, so that for a time she felt sad -and fearful of the future, and her powers to endure it. But -when she reached the house a pleasant surprise awaited her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Smart ushered her into a large room, well warmed and -lighted, and a lady came forward, with both hands extended -in greeting.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Miss Wentworth!” cried Margaret, in surprise. “Is it possible -that you are here! How can that have been brought -about?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah, my dear, you did not expect to see me. I have -brought thirteen of my girls to start this establishment. -You will need me, I know, and I shall need you too; for girls -are much more difficult to manage than boys. Come to your -room, and let me make you feel at home at once.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a great relief to Margaret to find that not only -was Miss Wentworth at High Seathorpe, but that the work -which she had come to commence was already successfully -inaugurated. She looked in at the girls that night, and saw -at a glance that the right ones were there. When she opened -the door one of them was saying: “I don’t care! It isn’t -nice to miss the courting, but my young man is a good -fellow, and I mean to make the most of this chance and learn -how to be a real good wife to him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>That little sentence was like a tonic to Margaret; for her -sympathy and interest were at once aroused, and she went -away to dream once more of pleasant hours spent in the -service of others.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The next morning she was ready for work, and before the -day had passed the girls had decided that she was trustworthy, -and that they would like her. One girl confided her -love story to her also, and begged that she would teach her -how to cut out and make some shirt collars with her own -hands as a present for <em>him</em>. “There’s only one him in the -world, you know, miss,” she said; “though I suppose it is a -hymn that may be sung to the tune of the Old Hundred.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXII.<br> <span class='large'>A LETTER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>In the meantime the new Parliament had got to work, and -the first thing it did was to make an appeal to the -Churches. This appeal reminded the followers of Christ that -it really rested with them, and not with Parliament, to -bring about the social reforms for which the nation was -crying. Parliament would do the Churches’ will, and make -such laws as they unanimously asked for; but if the -Churches were not united everything would be hindered. -Everywhere the country was called upon to send to those -lesser parliaments, town councils, county councils, local -boards, school boards, and all representative bodies, only -such men as were known to uphold and to illustrate in their -own lives the principles and practices of Christianity. The -flag of truce, therefore, was generally uplifted, and beneath -it the men of Christ stood side by side without reference to -name or party.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Proofs were abundant that the Churches were keenly alive -to their powers and possibilities. A great revival had especially -taken place in the Episcopal Church, and it was as -much a revival of brotherhood as of anything. Its clergymen -appealed to Nonconformists to help them, and the response -was general. Mr. Macdonald was rousing the people to -fever-heat. At the close of his addresses, when the collection -was taken, it was not unusual to find jewellery on the -plates, put there by ladies whose consciences had been -aroused. But this was not the sort of thing he wanted. -Both he and Arthur Knight were seeking not so much to -alleviate the present sorrows of the poor, as to bring about -an entire change in Society; and they scorned this giving of -conscience money by those who, in their eagerness after -cheap things or riches for themselves, had brought the -poverty about. Years before, a lady had written a small -booklet entitled, “Only a Factory Girl,” in which she showed -how, in the East-end of London, young people live. “Each -house in these crowded streets contains several families, and -in many cases six or eight people occupy a single room. One -of our girls sleeps with a family of six in one small room, -that is let in the daytime to two women, who are out on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>streets all night.” This writer had gone on to say:—“Factory -girls by nature are like other girls; they crave a little -pleasurable excitement, and aspire to personal improvement. -Can anything be done to furnish them with what they need? -Easily, if Christian women will only do it. The need is a -great one, but, happily, it is one far more easily met than -many others. All that is necessary is that there shall be in -every neighbourhood where these girls reside an institute -to which they may resort, where they will find instruction -and sympathy, innocent amusement, the society of their companions, -and food at a moderate price. Is it right that when -their long and weary day’s work is done, and they turn out -into the streets at night, they should find nothing open to -them but the theatres, the music-halls, and the dancing -saloons, in which they are ever welcome? Is it not sad that, -besides these, the only other places to which they have the -entrée are the ‘sing-song’ rooms connected with the larger -public-houses—snares and traps of the evil one to ruin both -body and soul? The haunts of vice and folly are open -nightly to our factory girls, but should the Church of Christ -leave it to the world, the flesh, and the devil to care for -them?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Churches and Parliament together answered that -question now, as it had not been answered before, with an -emphatic <em>No</em>. They were not going to allow these mothers -of the future to be tempted thus. The outcome of this -pamphlet had been the excellent Shaftesbury Institute; for -the writer had pleaded: “We have quite a sufficient number -of volunteers to make the effort a success, and nothing -hinders our entering on it except the lack of premises.” -These had been long ago supplied, and excellent work was -carried on within them. But the plea of “lack of premises” -was not now anywhere to be allowed; so men sternly determined. -Lack of premises, when there were churches and -chapels with vestries and school-rooms, which the people’s -money had paid for, shut up all the week? It would have -fared ill with any one in the new times who kept the good -work of rescue waiting, while complaining of lack of premises. -But it was such endeavours as those of the author of -“Only a Factory Girl” which had brought the happy change -about.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And the new Parliament passed two short and simple rules -which had an immediate effect. The first provided that no -one was to employ a girl in work of any kind who did not -pay her for her labour wages enough to enable her to live -respectably. And the second made it actionable for any one -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>to take rent without being assured that the rooms were only -occupied by the right number and the right kind of -persons.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course, there was a terrific howl from the quarters of -vested interests. But this Parliament was as strong and -sturdy as that of Oliver Cromwell, and a great deal more -enlightened; so it simply closed its ears to all noises, and -went straight on, doing its duty.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Its courage was in nothing more evident than in the very -stringent liquor law which was speedily passed, and which -attacked drunkenness as a deadly disease, and punished -those who had been accessories. It also insisted that for a -third offence a drunkard could be taken to a Home for -Inebriates, and kept there until cured.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell was able to meet his new responsibilities. -Darentdale was so near to London, and the rules of the latest -House of Commons were so sensible, that a man was not -compelled to spend all the nights in talking or listening to -the talk of others; it was therefore possible for the Member -for Scourby to attend to his duties in Westminster, and yet -not altogether neglect those of his own farm and home. -Tom always met her father on Friday night, and his two -leisure days were happy ones for her as for the rest of his -family. Quiet, self-effacing Mrs. Whitwell could not bring -herself to be glad that her husband was a Member of -Parliament, but her daughters were unfeignedly so; and it -was a pleasant sight to see them hovering around him, and -questioning him as to his votes and general conduct in the -House. He electrified them one day with news that they did -not expect.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Have you read to-day’s paper?” he asked. “Did you see -the account of my speech?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Your speech? Have you been speaking in the House?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I have, indeed, and my speech was very well -received, too. A man has not much chance to be eloquent -now, you know. I had not a new Bill to bring in, or, of -course, I should have been allowed to speak for half an hour; -it is not much one can say in ten minutes, but I said all -there was time to say as forcibly as possible. Some day I -mean to introduce the subject of these Retreats for Girls, -and then what a chance I shall have to make my powers of -elocution known!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You will be quite carried away by your own eloquence, -dear; but that will not matter if no one else is,” said Tom, -soothingly, moving a little from her father lest he should -punish her for that saucy remark.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>“What did you talk about yesterday?” asked Mrs. -Whitwell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The railways. There are men who think they should all -belong to the State. I say they do, since any man may get -shares in them, and since they are managed by a part of the -nation for the nation’s good. A railway that does not serve -the public cannot exist, you know; and the companies are -not as rich as they were, now that rates and fares are -lower; but if they were, I have no objection if they do -honestly what they undertake to do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are an old Tory, father, whether they call you so or -not. You must know that the railway companies exist for -the sole purpose of making themselves rich. They are -nothing but firms in business. All they do for the people -they do because they are compelled, in order to make the -thing pay.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well. We are to judge by actions, since we cannot -understand motives. If the companies pay fair wages to -their men, and keep faith with the public, we have no right -whatever to interfere with them. Besides which, we have our -hands too full of far more important things than trying to -get money out of the railway business; and that is what I -said yesterday. We do not exist for the purpose of interfering -with any business that is not injurious to the people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And did the other honourable gentlemen agree with you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Most of them did. Of course, we need money, since we -are anxious to benefit the people and tax them as little as -possible; but we are not going to be unwise enough to -interfere with private interests unless these clash with the -welfare of the commonwealth.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But did not any man get up and declare that railway -interests do this, since they make a few rich at the expense -of the many?” asked Tom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; such a remark was not made.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You are, indeed, a model Parliament.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We are, at least, resolved not to waste time. Who do -you think congratulated me, and expressed his approval of -what I had said?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The Prince?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; almost as great a man as he—Mr. Macdonald.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was a general smile at the mention of his name.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Of course that principle of yours would meet with his -approbation,” said Tom, “because of its bearing on other -things than railways, and especially those which touch him -most closely. But I am glad Mr. Macdonald has spoken to -you. He must be a man worth knowing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>“He is a splendid fellow. I heard him a day or two ago. -He addressed those reverend Church dignitaries at the Conference -in words that made them feel. He besought them to -disestablish the Church from the State for the sake of reestablishing -it in the hearts of the people. He believes that -if this were done the Dissenters would come over in whole -congregations.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Does he? He may be a good talker, but he cannot have -much knowledge of human nature,” said Tom, “if he really -believes that. Only think of the numbers of people who -would find their occupation gone if they were not permitted -to take part in the management of the affairs of their own -chapel. Life would lose half its interests for them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But they would be able to help in the management of -their own church, which would come to the same thing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; it could not be the same. There would not be space -nor opportunity for half of them; and they would not like to -be nobodies after being important leaders in their own religious -communities.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But it is a grand idea,” said Mrs. Whitwell. “One -Church, one people.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Too grand for the English constitution,” said one of her -daughters.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Macdonald does not think so. And he has been considering -this all his life. It may come, even if we do not live to -see it, this one united Church which is the dream of so many -faithful hearts. I should like to see our own beautiful old -place crowded every Sunday, as it would be if that which -Macdonald hopes for should become an accomplished fact.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I say, God grant it!” said Mrs. Whitwell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And we all say Amen,” added her husband. “You will -be able to hear for yourselves what Macdonald thinks, for I -have asked him to come and see us, and speak to the people -here; and he says he will.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, father, how could you? He must have invitations -to all the best houses in the land. I believe you think our old -hall is a good-enough place for the entertainment of any one.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I do; and every one who comes appears satisfied -and pleased. I thought we should have had Mr. Knight with -us again before this.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom did not mention a letter which she had in her pocket -at that moment, and which had given her some pleasure as -well as amusement. This was the letter—</p> - -<p class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Miss Tom</span>,—As you said I must rite a leter to you -all by meself I will, and Sissy helps me. We like what you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>sent us verry much, and Sissy says the appels are nicest of -all, and the pares and filbuts too. Mother thort we should -be ill, but we wasn’t, not a bit, nor we sharnt be if you send -us some more. We mist you when you went away, and it -wasnt nice without you; so plees come back as soon as -you can. Mister Nite come to-day. He brort me a book, -and Sissy a nedlkase, but she likes my book best, and says I -may have the nedlkase because she pricks her fingers; but I -don’t warnt it. Mother says Mister Nite looks tired; and -I heard her say to Miss Margrit that he expekted to find -you here. I told Sissy, and she arsked him was he sorry -you gone, and he said ‘Yes’; but he says he is com to see -you, only she must not tell, because it is a secrut. Sissy -loves Mr. Nite, so she give him that prutty pictyer you made, -and Mister Nite says he shall keep it for ever-never. It -rained that day, so praps the pictyer got wet; but Sissy says -Mister Nite wuddent let it. I speld that word rong. I carnt -spel verry well, so pleese xkuse it; com agan to see us soon.—Your -fekshnut,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Geoff</span>.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Knight did not go to Darentdale as soon as Geoff’s -letter led Tom to expect. But they were all very greatly -stirred by the visit of Mr. Macdonald. He went to Darentdale -and to Scourby, and addressed the people, who were only -too glad to have the opportunity of seeing and hearing him. -His mission was the means of a spiritual revival in England, -and Scourby and Darentdale shared in it. His appeals to -those who already professed to hold the Christian faith and -live the Christian life were exceedingly impressive. His cry -everywhere was to the Church, “Arise, shine, for thy light -is come, and the glory of the Lord hath risen upon thee.” In -his own way, and to the members of his own Church, he -delivered much the same message as that of Arthur Knight; -and the two were evidently sent of God to meet the great -need of the time. There is a picture in that unique collection -of pictures, all by the hand of one painter, Wirtz, in -Brussels, which frequently served him as a sort of text. It -represents the Man of the Future curiously contemplating -the things that interest the people of the present. He is a -big man, and there is nothing little about him, but he holds -in his hand a flag, a cannon, a pile of money, and a few other -things which represent the poor little aims of so many of the -men and women of to-day. He cannot understand where -their power and charm lay. So, said Mr. Macdonald, will it -be with those who realise Christ’s ideal; and he pleaded that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>it was not worth while for the Christian to trouble himself -about any of those things.</p> - -<p class='c011'>For a week he stayed at the Whitwells, every day speaking -at some meeting. Tom was profoundly impressed. Day -after day she accompanied him and her father, and she -listened to him with the deepening conviction that she was -herself living on too low a level. He stirred the very depths -of her nature, and it was as if she experienced a new conversion. -She had the opportunity of frequently talking with -him, and she learned to revere the man as if he were a -prophet. He seemed to know so much and to understand -her so thoroughly that she half shrank from him even while -she was attracted to him. Among the members of her -church religious things were seldom talked about. She could -not remember, since her confirmation, that the clergyman, -whom she yet trusted greatly, had asked her any personal -questions, or had any direct conversation with her respecting -her Christian life and experience; but Mr. Macdonald could -not talk with any one for ten minutes without bringing in -the subject of personal consecration. Tom felt sometimes -as if her soul were bared before him, and he knew all about -her. He was a good guide—for there was nothing of the -priest about him—and he had an intense realisation—as all -must have who can arouse others—of the power of the living -Christ; so that his visit to Darentdale was the means of lasting -good.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is as if the very house has been consecrated by his -prayers,” said Mrs. Whitwell. “We have never had as good -a man within the walls before.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And, indeed, all the members of the family were the same. -Mr. Whitwell, as he parted from his guest, expressed what -the others felt when he said: “You have brought a spiritual -blessing to us all. It is good of you to visit our small place -when you are wanted in all the big towns.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It has been a pleasure to me to visit you, Mr. Whitwell,” -he said. “I had heard of your family from my friend, -Arthur Knight, and you have given me a time of peace -in the midst of strenuous labour. I am glad to know your -family too.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“They are well worth knowing, especially my youngest, -with the masculine name. She is not by any means a -Tomboy, is she?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She is very sweet and womanly,” said Macdonald. “She -is, indeed, an ideal woman. She must be an immense help -and comfort to you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, she is. I cannot tell what I should do without Tom. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>And she will be better than ever now, for I think she has -heard every sermon you have preached in the neighbourhood. -I am sorry they have been so few. Come to us again when -you can. Like Arthur Knight, you make us think, and do -us good.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The two men went to London together, and separated at -the railway terminus, each bent on his work.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A fortnight later, Mr. Whitwell, with a very grave face, -called his youngest daughter into his study. “Tom, my -dear,” he said, “I have a letter from Mr. Macdonald which -has greatly surprised me, and he has enclosed one for you -in it.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXIII.<br> <span class='large'>ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Miss Thomasine Grace Whitwell locked -herself in her room, and read twice over the letter -which she had received from the Rev. Peter Macdonald. The -letter—a very short one, but one which went directly to its -purpose—was a manly declaration of the love of its writer. -“I have known you only a short time,” it said, “but I know -you well enough to feel that the greatest joy I could have -would be in the knowledge that you cared for me—a knowledge -that would fill me with inspiration for my life and -work. I am not of those who think that a clergyman can -better fulfil his mission by debarring himself from the sweet -domestic ties of home and wife and children. He can, -certainly, unless his wife be a real helpmeet; but if she be, -surely he will be the better fitted to help and sympathise -with the dwellers in the multitudes of homes which -Christianity has made possible for the people. I do not pretend -that it is entirely because I have seen your ministry of -mercy among your people that I ask you to come to my help; -it is because I love you, and because it is only since I have -known you that the alluring picture of a home of affection, -with a gracious woman at its head, has formed itself in my -mind. It is frequently there now, and always it is of yourself -that I think in connection with it. Will you be good to -me, and make the picture a reality, not because I am worthy, -but because you are kind?”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>It goes without saying that Tom was profoundly moved -and impressed by this letter, and equally surprised by it -also. “What can such a man as he see in me that he should -care for me?” she asked herself, and the answer was not -forthcoming. She admired and revered Mr. Macdonald exceedingly. -It seemed to Tom that she had never been converted, -or experienced any real religion until she knew him, -and listened to his teachings; but it had never occurred to -her that he could be like other men, or that human love -could be essential to his happiness. Tom was a little disappointed -as well as greatly astonished and flattered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She knew what her answer must be; and she also knew, -though it filled her with shame to acknowledge it to herself, -that the true reason was because another knight had won -her fealty. Why <em>he</em> was silent when she had expected him -to speak she could not tell. She felt sure now, since months -passed and brought neither Arthur Knight nor a word from -him, that her lot would be that of so many other women of -her time—a lot which contained great joy, if not the bliss -of which almost every woman dreams, and the larger ministry -of love which embraces many instead of one. And Tom -deliberately chose it for herself now. There was only one -possible person for her; and if he did not wish to share her -life, no one else should.</p> - -<p class='c011'>We are not going to tell any tales of Tom. She was a -sensible girl—too sensible, perhaps, to waste time and shed -tears in useless regrets. And, moreover, as she often said -to herself, “No woman can have everything.” She would not -have liked to give up her share of philanthropic work which -was occupying the best energies of so many of the women of -the day; and she had only to do from compulsion what they -did from choice. Hundreds of educated women deliberately -chose to be patriots instead of parents; and they proved in -their own experience that love is not everything. They -wisely saw what—happily for England and the Church—was -being increasingly realised, that fathers and mothers of -children are culpably unfaithful to their trust and duty who -are busily engaged in their endeavour to save other people’s -children while their own are unsaved; and now men and -women who had families, instead of being besieged with -requests that they would leave their homes and preach in -the Sunday-school, or help in the Band of Hope, were left to -meet the responsibilities of their state, or, at the most, were -asked to receive and instruct, with the members of their own -family, a few other boys and girls who were not amenable to -ordinary efforts. As for Tom, she knew that it was a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>pleasure to her to be in the thick of the grand work of the -times, and this self-knowledge came to her aid.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Her letter to Mr. Macdonald left no doubt as to its -sincerity. Tom showed it to her father before she sent it.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are you sure that this is what you mean, Tom? There -is no woman in England who would not be proud of the -honour which you are refusing to accept,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I know that, father, quite well. Indeed, the honour lies -upon me, and afflicts me night and morn—the burden of this -honour unto which I was not born.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do not be flippant, my dear; this certainly should be -considered gravely.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Father, don’t you know that I am really grave enough -even to satisfy you? I am not doing this thing hastily. -Nothing would induce me to marry Mr. Macdonald—because -I do not care for him, and never could. I respect him with -all my heart, so, you see, there is no room left for love. Read -this letter, please, and see if it will do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mr. Whitwell drew his daughter to his side, and looked at -her with the anxiety of tenderness. Sometimes he had -thought that Tom was not quite her own merry self, and -that there must be a reason for the change. He told her so; -and that little sentence spoken by her father was the most -powerful tonic she could have had. Tom became from that -day as mischievous and merry as ever.</p> - -<p class='c011'>If Mr. Macdonald received her letter with great disappointment -no one ever knew it. He read it as final; and, after -replying to it in a kindly letter, which Tom kept as one of -her treasures, he dismissed the thought of marriage from his -mind, and threw himself unreservedly into his work.</p> - -<p class='c011'>As Arthur Knight was doing also.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary Wythburn had shared with several other persons the -belief that Tom cared for her cousin, John Dallington, with -a regard that was more than cousinly, and she had imparted -this belief to Mr. Knight in all good faith.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But he is engaged,” he had objected.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes,” said Mary; “but it is doubtful if he and Margaret -Miller are ever married, for the opposition of his mother is -very strong, and Margaret’s life is full of other and larger -interests. Mr. Dallington will be faithful to her if she will -let him be; but if she should really break off the engagement -I should expect to see him and Tom married speedily.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was like Mary Wythburn. No one made fewer mistakes -in the one great work among the poor to which she gave her -life, and few could have blundered more in regard to other -matters.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>John had more and more trouble with his mother, for -hatred had made her mad. Is not all hatred a species of -insanity? Certainly the hatred that is fed by jealousy and -nourished by envy is well calculated to produce it. Mrs. -Hunter made no attempt to hide the disgusting truth. “I -hate her! I hate her!” she said a dozen times every day. -John had terrible misgivings. At present she was not often -violent; but her son was afraid to trust her. And he did -for her all that a good son could do; he neglected his love for -her sake; he spent all the time with her that he could spare -from his farm; he read to her, sang to her, played games with -her; and there were times when he hoped that she would at -last become clothed with kindliness, and in her right mind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But one night an event occurred which robbed him of -that hope.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He was sleeping soundly, as a tired man who had passed a -long day in the open air ought to do, when he was suddenly -awaked by shouts of “Fire!” He sprang from his bed, and -threw up the window.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Where is it?” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is in the village—in the street—will you lend me a -horse that I may fetch the firemen and engine from Scourby?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly. I will be with you in a minute.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>He hurried down, and found one or two of the men already -on the spot; and in a few moments two horses were carrying -men as rapidly as possible in the direction of Scourby.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Whose house can it be, I wonder? But, perhaps, it is no -house at all,” he thought, as he returned to his room and -dressed hastily. It was a bad fire evidently, for the flames -were lighting up his place, although the farm was some -distance from the village. He felt that he must go and see -for himself. He went to the door of his mother’s room. It -was locked, and although he listened he could hear no sound, -so he concluded she was sleeping. He asked the housekeeper -to be at hand in case Mrs. Hunter should want anything; -and, promising to return early, he started at a rapid pace -for Darentdale.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“What place is it?” he asked the man whom he left; -and the man hesitated before replying: “It is Mr. Harris’s -old house.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>When John reached it he saw at a glance that the old place -was doomed—there was so much dry wood in it; the floors -and wainscots, and in some of the rooms even the ceilings -were all of wood, and it was blazing most fiercely. “How -did it happen?” cried John.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Is there any one inside, sir?” asked a dozen persons at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>once. “We can find no one. It is too late for rescue if -there is.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Before John could reply his arm was grasped by a woman -whose head and face were wrapped in a shawl; and he was -horrified to recognise his mother.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I hate her! I have burnt her to death in her bed! I hate -her!” she said, first in a whisper and then in a shriek. John -seized her, and he shouted to the people, “There is no one in -the house; Miss Miller and her servant are in Yorkshire. Is -it too late to save anything? There are some valuables -there!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We must wait till the engines come,” was the answer. -“The house seems to have been set on fire in several places, -and paraffin or spirit of some kind must have been used.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mrs. Hunter broke into a fiendish laugh. “Yes, I did it,” -she said; “and I have burnt her to death. She was there; I -heard her breathe. I have burnt her to death in her bed. I -hate her! I hate her!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a terrible scene; John dragged his mother away, -and one of his men helped him to get her home, raving -mad.</p> - -<p class='c011'>He heard the engines rattling to the spot. He would like -to have remained, to protect Margaret’s interests, if necessary, -but he could not. He was sick with horror and dread, -but he knew that he alone would be able to manage the mad -woman without violence.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“She will never be sane again,” he said to himself that -night. And his foreboding was correct. She never was. -Medical opinion pronounced her hopelessly insane, and he was -obliged, for her own self-preservation, to allow her to be put -under restraint at once, without the delay that would have -been extremely dangerous.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret was telegraphed for before the fire was out, and -she hurried back to find her home in ruins.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Everything was gone but the walls. They stood firmly -enough at present, and none but Margaret knew what was -concealed in one of them.</p> - -<p class='c011'>She and Ann Johnson walked about among the ruins, -thinking of all the memories that were associated with them, -and their hearts were full of sorrow.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am glad he died before this happened,” said Ann; “it -would have broken his dear heart, and killed him into the -bargain.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret felt very desolate as she stood among the ruins. -John was not there; he did not know that she had been sent -for; he had not been able to give a thought even to his love. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>She could have cried out, not for him, but for her grandfather, -as she always lovingly called him in her thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c011'>As soon as it was known in the village that she had arrived, -a dozen offers of hospitality reached her. But best of all Tom -Whitwell hastened down, thinking it possible that she might -have arrived. Margaret was unfeignedly thankful to see her -friend.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You can do nothing. Come home with me,” said Tom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I must see a magistrate. I have something to tell him,” -answered Margaret. “It is very important, and must be told -at once.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is no magistrate nearer than my father, and he is at -Scourby to-day. What is it, Margaret?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you think the walls are safe? There is something -inside one of them, something that belongs to your Cousin -John; and I am afraid that if that wall comes down, all these -people would be tempted to take it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom looked at her friend as if she thought Margaret must -be going mad too.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“John also is in great distress,” she said, “for my aunt is—very -ill.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Will you drive me to Scourby first, Tom, and let us find -your father? I must have some one to act for me now, for -John’s sake,” said Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was well for her that Mr. Whitwell happened not to be -in London that day. Margaret told him her strange story -in a few words. It was like bringing an old-time romance -into modern prosaic days.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I must not act alone; I must get a brother-magistrate to -come with me and a few policemen,” he said. “Will you go -home with Tom, Margaret, and leave it to me?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret was very willing to do that; she had much to -hear from Tom, and much to tell her too; and their confidences -were more lengthened than their drive.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Poor John! what a terrible thing it is for him!” she said. -“And poor Mrs. Hunter, too! I think it must have been her -mental deficiency which caused her so to dislike me.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Tom could not help smiling, but Margaret did not see the -joke, until Tom said, “I agree with you, dear, that no one in -his or her sober senses could help liking you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, Tom, how can you joke at such a time?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Indeed, I do not know, Madge, unless it is because of my -inherent wickedness. But I assure you that I do not feel -very merry. It is a sad enough time for us all. You must -marry John now, Margaret. You cannot do otherwise if you -have a woman’s heart, or indeed a heart of any sort.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>“How can I? We have only just commenced our home in -Yorkshire, and the man, whoever he is, will hold me to my -agreement. Not that I am necessary there, for the real, -moving spirit of the thing is Miss Wentworth. And as for -that Andromeda Jones, whom Mary sent, she is invaluable. -She will make a most clever woman; she can influence those -girls as none of us can; she knows them and their ways so -thoroughly; and she loves them, and they love her.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I expect she is what she is in consequence of the -Craighelbyl training. That is the place in which good -characters are made.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is one of the places; and our High Seathorpe is -another.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“How is your enterprise there going to answer, really?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It will do much good to many young women, but it cannot -do all. The girls who are sent are young, but they are not -young enough. It is already too late to do all that we wish. -The time to influence girls is before they become engaged. I -should like to hand over the engaged girls to Miss Wentworth -and Drom, with the other valuable assistants whom we have, -and myself to form a home for neglected girls between the -ages of twelve and fourteen; for that is the important -age.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, it is; but, you know, Margaret, that girls as well as -boys are to be kept at the ordinary and the technical school -now until they are fourteen. And they are no longer to be -trusted to anybody who likes to take up the teaching profession -for a livelihood; some of the best, and ablest, and highest -people of the land are undertaking the work of the upper -standards in the schools.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I do not forget that, and I am most thankful for it. -In a few years such a place as that at High Seathorpe will -surely not be required. In the meantime, it is needed very -greatly, only the worst of it is that those who need it most -will not come to share its advantages.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I wish they could be compelled. But I do not myself -think so highly of these big Homes, as they are called; they -are very different from real homes, you know, Margaret. If I -ever have a home of my own—which I suppose I never shall -have—I should like to keep two rooms for the use of poor -little girls who have come to the turning-point in their lives, -and need a friend.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, I should like that, too,” said Margaret.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Very well,” rejoined Tom, “you can have the privilege -at once. There are several unused rooms in the Manor -House.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>It was late at night before Mr. Whitwell reached home.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We found your treasure-trove, Margaret,” he said, “and -have placed the contents in safe keeping at my London bank. -It was a most astonishing find. I had no idea that it would -prove so valuable. You are a lady of fortune.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I do not feel that the money is mine, Mr. Whitwell. It -belongs to Mr. Dallington.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; that it certainly does not. It belongs to you. John’s -uncle had every right to do what he pleased with his own, and -the terms of his will could not have been more explicit than -they were. You are his heiress after Mr. Harris, the house -and all that was in it being left absolutely to you. I am glad -that wall was not destroyed; but the thing that puzzles me is -where Captain Dallington got all that money, foreign and -English, and why he chose to hide it in a wall, instead of putting -it in a bank, or investing it in some way, as any other -man would have done. But he was always eccentric. I -have been told that even as a boy he was considered strange, -and only a little better than an idiot; and I think he must have -remained so. But whatever may have been his reason, he was -evidently very fond of you. Do not answer me unless you -please, Margaret; but I have often wondered whether you -know the secret of his life and of yours.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No, I do not, and I expect that now I never shall,” said -Margaret. “For some reason—and I am sure it was a good -one—my grandfather—Mr. Harris—never told me. Only on -the evening on which he died he promised that he would; but -he was so weak and ill that I begged him to wait until the -next day, and the next day he was gone.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It cannot be helped, my dear, and it does not matter. -You are whatever your life and character make you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And they could not be better,” said Tom, affectionately.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And it will not matter who you were when you are happily -married to my nephew,” continued Mr. Whitwell. “He is -so good a fellow that it will be too bad if you keep him -waiting longer. His mother is quite out of the question now, -I am sure of that. And the best medical authority of the -land has declared it to-day, for I met Dr. Stapleton, who told -me so. That will be the way out of the difficulty. If you -think this money ought to be his, what is yours may be made -his, in spite of the Married Women’s Property Act.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Margaret returned to Yorkshire the next day without -seeing John. She rightly judged that it was better so. It -was doubtful if John would ask her again to marry him after -all his trouble, and especially when he knew the amount of -her possessions. But the long railway ride gave her time to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>think; and by the time she reached the Home her mind was -fully made up.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The place had been speedily got into good working condition, -and already there were thirty girls who had been -sent down from London, in order that they might be prepared -for the work that was before them. And there were -as many helpers as could possibly be needed. Miss Wentworth, -who knew London well, and who had spent her life -and her money chiefly in work among women and girls, knew -exactly where to find the right women to help, and the girls -who would be the most benefited by their ministrations. -She had entered into the scheme with enthusiasm, and it -was she who was making it a success.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Her large motherly nature made her very sympathetic. If -the truth must be told, she already loved every inmate in the -Home; but she loved Margaret the most of all, and when -the girl laid her head upon her shoulder, and told her all the -history of her life, and confided the secret about John, she -was most tender and kind.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“My dear child” she said, “you must marry your lover, and -at once. Love is not everything. I do not say it is; but it -was meant to occupy the first place where it has been given -at all. This work is beautiful, but it can go on without you; -and no one else can take your place in that other empty home -which needs you so greatly. Now, you must write, and tell -all your story to our eccentric friend—Friend Philip, and I -am very much mistaken if he does not say as I do. I feel -sure he will trust in me, because his lawyer and I are such -good friends, and he has seen for himself how we go on with -the work here. Write your letter as simply as you like; -when your story is known the rest will follow.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>And so it did. The owner of High Seathorpe was ill; and -it seemed to him as he read Margaret’s letter that it was a -great thing that she should make the man whom she loved -happy. He had discovered that there were many other -women longing to do the work which he most wished to see -done, and since they were well able to carry out his wishes, -he was perfectly willing to release Margaret, only stipulating -that she should occasionally visit and supervise the -institution.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But Margaret had not waited for his answer before she -wrote to John.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We are both so lonely and desolate without each other,” -she said, “that if you still wish me to come to you, I will -come at any time. Let me try to comfort you a little; and -perhaps we shall both find that we can still do something -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>for the great world though we live in a little one of our -own.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>John was not slow in responding to that letter; and a few -weeks after its receipt the two were married quietly from -Mr. Whitwell’s home, and in the old church at Darentdale.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXIV.<br> <span class='large'>WAS IT A DREAM?</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>It must not be forgotten that this is a forecast, as well as a -story, and the following is a dream if you prefer to think -it so.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was about this time that an event occurred which showed -the immense strides upward which the conscience of some -of the people had accomplished. All the British world was -electrified by the news that war was imminent. An insult -had been offered to the British flag, and of course it was said -that the honour of the nation was at stake. Some of the -newspapers hastened to magnify the occasion, and fierce -articles called upon the Government to demand satisfaction, -unless, indeed, as the writers declared they half-feared, all -the manliness and pluck of the British nature had died -out. Men looked and felt very angry, and not a few were -eager for the fray—especially of those who knew that, however -fiercely the battle raged, they would themselves not be -called away from their own firesides.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were many peacemakers; but against them old accusations -were made, and they were scorned as the “Peace-at-any-price -party.” They held their own, and pleaded for unimpassioned -consultations and temporising delays; but they -found that the Jingo spirit had been revivified. It was true -that England had the men who, at the expense of the nation, -had been kept in idleness for many years, in case—perhaps in -the hope—that war would break out. She had guns, too; but -grave scandals about them had been whispered, and though -many thousands of pounds had lately been spent upon “the -last sweet things” in cannons and torpedoes, it was not at all -certain that these would not fail in the day of trouble -because of bad workmanship and inferior materials. As to -the money, she certainly had not got that. England was -painfully paying off year by year what she could of the enormous -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>debt which she owed on account of former wars, and -the real fact was that she had not a penny which could be -honestly afforded for new ones. But, as usual, many wished -to withhold this truth from the nation’s ears at this moment, -and much was done to make the people forget everything -excepting that there was a stain on the national honour -which could only be washed out in a sea of blood.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Yet there was one circumstance that made thoughtful men -pause.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Germany had invented a new gun, which was more awful -in its power than anything which had previously been -dreamed of. Germany had tried to keep its own secret, but -there was an uneasy feeling abroad that it had been sold by -a money-loving traitor, and more than one other nation was -in possession of it. England did not yet know all that she -wished of the “patented” gun, and the Government was told -that the secret must be purchased at any price.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the Government hesitated. The members of this -House of Commons were not for war, but very strongly -against it. The men now at the head of affairs could not -bear the thought of the slaughter of thousands of their -brothers. They had been sent to Westminster to govern -men, not to order them to be killed; and, though they could -not close their ears to the clamour of the war party, they -maintained an attitude of firmness that, while it gave great -hope to the peaceable, irritated their opponents.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Moreover, England’s quarrel was with her neighbour, -France.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Some Frenchmen had gone over a boundary and taken to -themselves a bit of land, which the English had stolen a -thousand years ago. They were ordered off, and refused to -go, and had been so very impertinent and consequential that -the English who held the bit of land had appealed for help -and sworn to be revenged.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was unfortunate that just at that time, in a little matter -of trade and commerce, France was feeling irritated. Otherwise -it is possible that an apology might have been offered -and graciously accepted, and so the peace have been kept. -But France was silent, and English Ministers were unhappy -and anxious.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“This is a case for arbitration!” said the Government. -And so it might have been if they could have induced the -nation to keep quiet and cool for a little time. But that -curious general irritability of temper which in the world’s -history has so often been the cause of mischief, made the -multitude impatient and impassioned at this crisis. The cry -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>for Arbitration was loud, but the cry for War was louder. -And it gathered in force, day by day, until it seemed overpowering.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It is humiliating to have to make the confession that even -the Church was not unitedly and entirely for peace. A -large section was overwhelmed with sorrow and disappointment -on this account, and most earnestly seconded the -endeavour of the Government; but the men of peace had -less power than they thought they had. They made pathetic -appeals to the nation, but a large part of the nation refused -to be moved by them. The peace-people had soft voices, but -the war-sowers were noisy and clamorous, and drowned the -pacific suggestions of the others. The Government proposed -that a council of arbitration should sit in Germany, and that -other nations should be asked to come between the two -angered peoples. But the English war party was in haste, -and would not consent to the delay. “Let us pray,” became -the burden of many a sermon; but “Let us fight!” was the -suggestion more in keeping with the popular temper of the -times.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Public pressure began to be increased. “A war would be -good for trade,” some said. Religion was all very well, but -it would not always do to abide by it. Besides, did not religion -uphold war? Of course it did, for the Bible was a book -of battles. The new leaders of the people might be deposed -unless they proved themselves capable of responding to the -popular wish. Some of the newspapers were to blame for -the agitation. There were bloodthirsty leader-writers who -were nothing less than traitors to their country at this juncture. -And there were agitators who still further inflamed -the passions of the people, until at last it was proposed that -the “Patriotic Party”—for such the war-makers impudently -called themselves—should form processions in the streets, -and even storm the Houses of Parliament, and compel the -Government to obey their will.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And then <em>the Prince</em> came forward.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was no telling what might have happened by this -time, but for the sake of this one relative of the Royal -family, who, because of the true nobility of his character and -great lovableness of his disposition, had been singled out -from all the rest and designated significantly “<em>The Prince</em>.” -Wherever he appeared the hearts of the people turned to -him. They called him “The Good and the Great”; for he -was strangely gifted in person and ability, and was, moreover, -a born ruler of men. He was certain to occupy the -first position in the nation by right of his singular powers, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>and though he kept in the background as much as possible, -far-seeing men knew that, not because he was of the Royal -House, but because of the kingly nature, which was God’s -gift and not man’s, he was one of the lights that could not -be hid. Everybody loved him, but mostly the poor, because -whenever he had lifted up his voice to plead it was for them, -and because he had taken the trouble to understand them. It -was little wonder that he was beloved by all classes in England, -for, in truth, a princely prince had arisen.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Houses of Legislature received a request from the -Prince that he might be permitted to lay before them a -suggestion.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Upper House, composed now of the new aristocracy, -among whom were the best representatives of the old -nobility of England, immediately decided to send a courteous -assurance of welcome to the Prince, and the Lower House -added their response to that of their co-workers.</p> - -<p class='c011'>When the Prince arrived both Houses united to give him -audience. The scene was indeed worthy of the time, and -there is nothing better in the whole history of England to -be perpetuated, in the best way possible to Art, than that -which was enacted then.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The whole assembly arose as the Prince entered and took -his place beside the Speaker’s chair, deferentially bowing to -its occupant. The light of earnest purpose shone in his eyes, -and his voice was clear and strong as he addressed the -assembly.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Sir, my lords and gentlemen,—It is known to you that the -wisdom of the ancients is a treasure-trove for modern -seekers; and the thought that is in my heart to-day is one -that has passed down to me through a long line of heroes. I -sorrow with my countrymen for the misunderstanding which -has arisen between ourselves and France, and which seems -to be developing into a quarrel that can only be healed by -blood. But, sirs, if war were declared between the two -nations, as things are now it would not be battle, but murder. -We want our men for other things than that. And so does -fair France, with her broad fields spread out to the sun, and -her chivalrous men and women with their new ideas of life. -In this quarrel we are the aggrieved, and therefore have the -right to declare war. May we not also choose our mode of -battle? Is it necessary—can it possibly be right—to call -out our soldiers, who have no part whatever in this quarrel, -and bid them go over and fight with French soldiers, who -are by no means unfriendly—nay, I will not call it -fighting—shall we allow them to kill each other -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>in cold blood by thousands? It cannot be right, -and it is not necessary. Sir, I have to propose -that England should take the initiative, and request -France to allow this dispute to be settled by single combat -of arms, so that one life should suffice and the many be -spared. And I hereby offer myself to you as the representative -of this nation, and declare my willingness and most -earnest desire to meet any man whom France may appoint, -and to fight with him to the death, in the cause of Old -England, my own beloved country, which may God bless and -preserve! I make this entreaty because I know that if I am -allowed to have my will, and if I should die for the nation, -the blow that kills me will be also the death-blow to war. -You have not been able to get this quarrel settled by arbitration, -but it is the last time that such a suggestion will be -powerless. Gentlemen, the world needs an object-lesson; let -it have it. Here am I, send me; and I declare to you that by -God’s help I will make it impossible that there should ever -again be a European war.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Prince bowed first to the Speaker and then to the -members, and before the latter could recover from their -astonishment he sat down. Then a murmur filled the house, -first of applause and next of demur.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was noble and brave of him, but it could never be allowed. -The Prince was too dear to the nation—better a thousand -lesser men be sacrificed than he. And, besides, this would be -such an antiquated form of warfare; it would make England -ridiculous in the eyes of the world. Nor would France agree -to it. And who had she that was the peer of the Prince -whom England loved? Such things, as soon as the speakers -had found their tongues, were said one after the other, without -in the least abating the resolution of the Prince. He -would not be convinced, and he prayed them not to hinder -him. The Republic of France, he was sure, had been growing -to hate war more and more during the last few years; and if -Frenchmen wished to fight, it was certainly not with England. -Moreover, the times were new, and new ideas had taken -possession of the people in all civilised countries. If some, -still uncivilised, chose to laugh, what did it matter, since the -quarrel was none of theirs? Let England and France be -satisfied, and nothing more was needed. So said the Prince, -and more than a few agreed with him; and when the time for -closing the debate came a resolution was unanimously passed, -thanking the Prince for his magnanimous offer, and begging -him to attend the meeting of the House on that day week in -order to receive the reply of England.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>Next morning the whole country was in a state of ferment. -A good many people tried to laugh off the whole circumstance -as if it were something too absurd to be worthy of sober consideration. -But it was soberly considered none the less; and -it was soon apparent that a very large proportion of the -English people came to feel that the Prince’s offer ought to -be accepted. Not at first. At first there was a universal -howl against it. There were many men whose names were -mentioned as far more suitable for the sacrifice than he. -But though the nation could compel fifty thousand people to -fight at its command, it was quite impossible for them to -compel any one man to do so; and though volunteers were -not wanting, the Prince would not yield.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The New Party was unanimous in the opinion that the -Prince should be allowed to have his will, if France were -willing. They loved the Prince as dearly as the rest, but they -saw that because his life was so precious, it was the one to be -forfeited. Its value would make it acceptable to the French -nation, and the fact that the Prince would fight any man -France might send would go far to pacify that high-spirited -people. Moreover, if the Prince were killed, his death would -be more mighty than any other force could possibly be toward -that on which their hearts were set, the abolition and extermination -of war.</p> - -<p class='c011'>That week seemed to fly by. At its expiration the Prince -duly presented himself to receive the nation’s reply to his -proposition. Never was a vote more solemnly taken than -that which decided the issue at stake. It was not a unanimous -vote; but that the Prince should fight this battle of his -country was decided by an overwhelming majority.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The subject had been rigorously excluded from the French -Parliament until it was formally laid before it in official -despatches from England, but naturally it had been well -discussed in every other gathering, small or large, of the -French people. There was, therefore, little need of delay; -but a week was asked and given before a final answer was -decided upon. At length it was sent, and the whole world -knew that the quarrel of two great nations was to be decided -by two of their greatest sons.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A request was sent in that the number should be augmented, -and that ten persons on each side should fight, but that was -overruled, and the two nations proceeded to fix the date of the -most memorable duel that had ever been fought.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Prince asked for a week, but the French proposed that -it should be a month, in order to give each man time to -become perfect in the use of the sword; for both the Prince -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>and his antagonist declared the sword to be the only weapon -for the occasion. It had been easy to find a man in chivalrous -France. Indeed, there were so many volunteers that it was -necessary to decide the matter by lot. And, strangely -enough, the lot fell to Bayard, a descendant of the noble man -whom even to-day France delights to honour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The two young men spent the month in strict retirement, -each setting his own affairs in order. There was a great wish -that the Prince might be seen by the people, but this he refused. -Also the date on which he would set out on his journey -was kept a secret; for there was a fear that the populace -would prevent by force the consummation of the idea. It -had been settled that the fight was to be on French soil, and -in some spot as far as possible removed from human habitations. -It was to take place in the morning of a day, the -date of which, with all other details, was settled by the two -nations.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Of course the papers were full of it. Every little scrap of -information that could be gained was printed in large type -and eagerly read by the people. As the time drew near the -whole thing was felt by many to be intolerable. There was -something so cold-blooded about it that it appeared a much -more awful thing for these two lives to be lost than for two -armies to be annihilated. Foreign newspapers were especially -severe, and many a comic sketch of the two nations gone -mad came to England and went to France. Most foreigners -appeared to regard it as a fiasco, and declared that the battle -of two would never occur. But, on the other hand, a great -many people were determined that it should, if only to save -the two peoples from being ridiculous in the eyes of each -other; and there were some spirited articles written to show -up the absurdity of the false sentiment of pity which could -have borne a wholesale massacre, but could not endure a -single duel.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The month seemed as long as two, but it wore away, though -slowly; indeed, the last few days were all too short. The -people were determined that their Prince should not go -quietly out from their midst, and for several days Buckingham -Palace was watched by crowds that refused to be dispersed, -and stood quietly through the days and nights -to wait their chance. The multitude was augmented every -day. At last it grew so enormous that fears were entertained -by the authorities of a catastrophe of some kind. The police -was insufficient, and the soldiers were told to lie in readiness.</p> - -<p class='c011'>On the evening before his departure the Prince caused the -time to be made known, and it was decided to form a triumphal -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>procession to escort him to the coast, the like of which -had never been seen before. It could not be allowed that all -the pomp and glitter of battle should be omitted, and the -Prince consented to the martial music and the guard.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The best regiments were chosen, and it was in the midst of -the finest English soldiers that the Prince rode through -London. He looked every inch a hero, full of courage and -life. The crowds grew wild with enthusiasm as they saw -him, and their shouts rent the air. The band played the -National Anthem and “Rule Britannia,” and there was a -great cry, which was taken up by tens of thousands—<em>Come -back safely, and we will make you king!</em> In front of St. -Paul’s a halt was made, and from the steps the Prince spoke -to the people.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am going glad of heart to fight this battle for you,” he -said. “I do not believe what is told me, that if I fall you -will hate the French people more than ever. God forbid! -Hate war, and make up your minds that this shall be the -last blood shed in the cause of any quarrel between the two -nations. Take away the sting of death from me by giving -me a pledge, I pray you, that you will not revenge my death, -and that hereafter England will set the example of arbitration, -as she has now done of single combat.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>A shout of approbation rent the air. Then there was a -cry, “Into the Cathedral!” and the Prince entered, and all -else who could. There was no rioting among the people—the -occasion was too solemn for that—and they waited patiently. -Was it by accident that it was the time for the morning service? -A great hush fell upon the throng, and never before -was there so imposing a scene as then, all the more so -because it was unpremeditated. When the anthem was sung -a thrill went through the assembly, for the clear notes of a -boy’s voice rang out the significant words, “I know that my -Redeemer liveth!” Men were not ashamed of their tears -that day. Who could help shedding them?</p> - -<p class='c011'>But the Prince was not one of the weepers. His eyes -shone with a lustre that told of the high thoughts that filled -his soul, and his steadfast heart feared nothing. When he -came out of the cathedral, and cast his eyes over its proportions, -there was a smile upon his lips, though he knew how -probable it was that he had seen the building for the last -time.</p> - -<p class='c011'>All the way to Dover crowds of people attended him or -flocked near to get a glimpse of his benignant face. When -at last the sea was in sight he was glad, for the lengthened -strain was beginning to tell upon him.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>The ship was decorated with flags, and some girls came -forward to strew flowers in his path.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Prince thanked the soldiers for their escort, and urged -them to give the weight of their influence to the peace party. -“Men are wanted,” he said, “for other things than to slay -and be slain. If the armies were disbanded, and the soldiers -would learn the arts of peace, a better day would dawn for -the world. You could go <em>home</em>. God bless the homes of -England!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Never was vessel watched by so many eyes as this, which -seemed to fly across the Channel. Other ships hastened after -it, and a thousand prayers went up that the Prince might -come again to the people who loved him, and that the battle -might be decided in his favour.</p> - -<p class='c011'>They were asking the same in France for their Bayard, -who had suddenly become their hero.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But is not this prayer, “God be on my side,” characteristic -of every fight?</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXV.<br> <span class='large'>WAS IT EXPEDIENT THAT ONE SHOULD DIE?</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Our story has dealt with the people rather than with the -upper classes; but when a detailed history of these -times shall be written, one of the foremost places will -certainly be given to the Prince. He had worked quietly -(the Society journals had kindly left him very much alone), -and he was, besides, only a young man, but his influence -amongst the aristocratic classes of England had been immeasurably -great. His mother was of the Royal family, but -his father was a commoner, and he seemed to have been born -to such a heritage of sympathy as could not be confined to -any class. He had a passion for philanthropy, but his love -of justice was even stronger still. He regarded the rights of -others, as he did his own; and nothing could make him -believe that England ought, or was obliged, to have within -her borders a million of people in poverty. But the way out -was by the gate of work and wages, and not alms; and so -sure was he of this that it was frequently remarked of him, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>“The Prince gives nothing away.” What he gave, how he -gave it, and to whom, were his own secrets, and he kept them; -but every one knew that in the length and breadth of the -land none was more really a friend to the poor than he. Nor -had any done more to convince his class that they who owned -much of the wealth of the land had no right to satisfy their -consciences by gifts of soup and coals to the poor, but that -it was their duty to find work and pay wages. He was a -doughty champion who was always ready to fight for the -lowest; and his own people loved him the more because he -spoke the truth to them in tones that there was no mistaking.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The age, that was rich in valiant young men, had none -more true, and honourable, and kingly than this man who -had craved so earnestly to be allowed to die for his country.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It is needless to say that the New Tournament occupied -both public and private attention, to the exclusion of all -other topics; until, if only for the sake of relieving the -strain, which every day became more intolerable, everybody -hoped that the matter would be decided speedily. And, -indeed, there was little reason for delay, excepting in the -circumstance that the two young men had asked for a week -in which to become better acquainted with each other.</p> - -<p class='c011'>What passed between them was never known; only a -written document, signed by both of them, and containing -reasons why the two nations should trust each other, gave -some indication of the themes on which they conversed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a lovely spot among the hills that had been chosen -for the fight; and thither on a bright morning a great -multitude repaired. Medical men were on the spot, and -several of the most eminent Judges of the two countries. -Many people went with the hope still in their hearts that the -contest would not really be to the death; but no such hope -or wish was in the mind of either of the brave knights who -had come to fight for his country.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Let the arrangements be as simple as possible,” the -Englishman had said. But no pomp or show could have -added to the awful solemnity of the occasion. As the two -men faced each other, looking so resolute and brave, and yet -so gentle, a thousand eyes grew dim. They shook hands -cordially with each other, and spent a few moments in -private conversation. It was hoped that they would address -the assembly, which, indeed, consisted of the greatest men -of all nations, and the hope was not disappointed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is no time for words,” said the English Prince, “but -the occasion is a marked one, and perhaps words, however -poor, may prove to be seeds which shall hereafter grow into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>a harvest. The brave knight of France has become my dear -friend, and therefore there is no enmity, but only love to each -other in our hearts this morning; and our friendship is none -the less strong because one of us will certainly kill the other. -We are both more willing to-day than ever to sacrifice our -lives in the cause of peace and in the interests of our country. -I am for England with all my heart, and to the very -backbone—brave, heroic, Christian England. She has been -spoilt by some faults, but the morning of her regeneration -has arrived, and I call upon you Englishmen, in God’s name, -to be worthy of her traditions, and arise to the demands of -the new era which is upon us.” Then, in a voice that pierced -to the outer edge of the crowd, he cried, “Never more shall -war mean the slaying of thousands! And <em>God bless -England</em>!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Frenchman’s speech was longer, and it called upon his -countrymen to live and die for fair France.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Then the trumpeters gave the signal for the contest to -begin, and men held their breath—watching with their souls -in their eyes. There was a little play and parrying at first; -but presently the men fought in deadly earnest, and their -flashing swords became stained with blood. Suddenly there -was a halt—the Prince’s sword had snapped, and a new one -was required. Then there was a cry for intervention. “Let -the contest cease! Enough! Enough!” But the young -men would not yield to that cry, and again there was a clashing -of swords. The moments seemed ages to those who -looked on, and several fainted and could gaze no longer; -indeed, the excitement proved too great to be endured. But -the contest was not to be prolonged. Presently one fell -from his horse, wounded fatally.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was the English Prince.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The doctors were at his side in a moment. He could still -speak a few words.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The wound is fatal, I know,” he said. “Bayard, where -are you?” The Frenchman took the Prince in his arms and -put his head on his shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Forgive me,” he said, hastily.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, do not ask that! We have no quarrel—the real -fighters in a real war seldom have. God bless you, Bayard, -and your country—<i><span lang="fr">Vive la France</span></i>! But God bless my -country too—old England! destined to be the leader in peace -and righteousness yet. God bless England! Bayard, say -it, too.” And the Frenchman repeated the words. Then -the Prince whispered, “Better I than you. To be with -Christ.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>And so he died.</p> - -<hr class='c017'> - -<p class='c011'>A sense of infinite loss fell upon England, in which the -whole world had some share. And with the loss came not -only pain, but anger.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The Prince’s family had the worst of the sorrow to bear. -And the upper classes were loud in their execration. “Better -a host were slain than he,” they said. And the masses for -once felt with them. So did the army, which was likely, -everybody thought, to give trouble in the future. The time -was altogether a dangerous one, and a terrible revolution -might have been brought in with blood but for those leaders -of the people who were able in the emergency to possess -their souls in quietness. America was saved once by the -voice of a man who cried, “God is not dead, though Lincoln -is!” And now in England there were ten thousand men -who, in pulpits, on platforms, and through the Press, said -the same thing. And they earnestly besought their hearers -to help in the great work of preventing the Prince’s sacrifice -from being non-effective. He had been willing to die, as -everybody knew; but only because he hoped that a better -life would come to many through his death. And now, if -the people were actuated by revenge and hatred, not only to -France, but also to the new English Government as well—as -seemed likely to be the case—then, indeed, the best blood of -the land would have been shed in vain. And so universal -among Christian men was the adoption of this speech that -the people were quieted, and wise counsels prevailed, together -with a profound conviction that the Prince’s prophecy would -be fulfilled, and England become “the leader in peace and -righteousness.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>They brought the body of the beloved Prince home to -England, and in that sepulchre of kings, Westminster Abbey, -they buried him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The publication of the Prince’s will created a profound -sensation.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The little which had been given to him by the nation was -to go back to whom it belonged. But that which had been -given to him for his own use and distribution, by private individuals, -and which constituted a most surprisingly large -sum, was, he considered, entirely at his disposal. The times -had seen many gifts of enormous sums to the poor, not a few -of which had come from anonymous donors; but it was not -before known that so great had been the love of the people -for their Prince, and so absolute their confidence in him, that -many had preferred to trust him with their money, assured -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>that he would use it wisely. It was to this wealth that the -will written by his own hand chiefly referred. It set forth -his faith that soon after his death the Government of England -would set an example of peace to the nations of the -world by permitting those who chose to withdraw from the -British army, after making all necessary arrangements for -the calling together of volunteers from among them in case -of an emergency. The Prince declared that he had found -constant solace and strength from the thought of the joy -with which these men, now kept in idleness at the expense of -the country, with no rights as citizens, and unable for the -most part to secure domestic joys, would go home to their -friends and take their rightful places in the world. But he -recognised the fact that at first they would be at a disadvantage -with their fellows because they had forgotten how -to till the ground, or choose and sell the merchandise, or -guide the machine. And he therefore directed that his money -should be kept in trust until required, and then used for the -purpose of instructing the soldiers in the arts of peace; and, -if necessary, for providing for them in the meantime, and -until they could become engaged in remunerative occupations. -And he asked as a favour to himself that <em>the piece -of land which was the original cause of the quarrel should be set -apart for the free use of discharged English and French soldiers</em>. -He knew that the money which had been entrusted to him—much -as it was—would be all too little for so large a -purpose, though he prayed that it might be wisely managed -by able and honest men, and so he left, as his dying bequest -to all who loved him, an importunate prayer that they would -of their riches add to the sum until it should answer the end -designed. And the Prince appointed as his executors his -sister, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Peter Macdonald, and -Arthur Knight, whom he trusted to see that the terms of his -will were duly carried out.</p> - -<p class='c011'>A committee was at once appointed to consider this remarkable -will, and work with the executors. And this committee -proved itself to be composed of men who had understanding -of the spirit of the Prince, and determination -to give effect to his wishes. They lost no hours in fruitless -debate; nor did they cavil with one another in regard to -phrases, nor multiply difficulties which might never exist. -They met every day for a time, and as soon as possible were -ready with their report.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first fact which they made public was the gratifying -one that the money left by the Prince had already been -doubled by the contributions of rich men who had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>waiting for some opportunity to dispose of part of their -wealth for the good of their country. This was the fruit of a -conviction that had been for many past years growing, that -a Christian man has no right to keep to himself the wealth -which has been entrusted to him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Another fact, which for the first time was put into words -for the public information, was the somewhat disquieting -one, for the war party, that it had now become exceedingly -difficult to secure men for the British Army. The youth of -the nation of these times had no taste for swords, and guns, -and red coats. The veterans of the army often wondered -what England could possibly do if she had to engage in a -big war while so short of men. And although Englishmen -believed still that their nation was destined to lead the -world, it was evident to all thoughtful minds that it must be -by other means than war, for even now she could not cope -with other nations in regard to military power.</p> - -<p class='c011'>But, all the same, the Government was asked to reduce the -standing army, since it would be wiser to do that than to let -it die out gradually and ignominiously; and it was absolutely -certain that this would be the case in the near future, since -the Christian Churches of England had enlisted the youth -of the nation in the grand army of the Young Crusaders, -every member of which had solemnly sworn to preserve -peace.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The committee, therefore, recommended the Government -to give immediate effect to the Prince’s will; to allow men -who had already served ten years in the army to leave it if -they chose; and to give them, under certain conditions, a -lump sum, instead of a pension, so that they might commence -business or emigrate, or provide themselves with tools and -equipments for labour. Had all this happened before, there -would have been a great outcry that the already overstocked -labour market would become congested by the turning into -it of thousands of new men; but people were really wise -enough now to see that it would be cheaper for these men -to work than to be kept in idleness at the expense of the -State, and they were learning to solve the problem of the -over-production of commodities by the industrial classes by -making it possible for the industrial classes themselves to -enjoy the commodities which they were producing.</p> - -<p class='c011'>So the suggestions of the committee were accepted.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Our Quixotic Government can no further go,” said one of -the papers next morning; but its small light was snuffed out -during the day, for the journals that were of consequence -took the other side, and it became evident that the life and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>death of the Prince had converted an enormous number of -thinkers.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Still, it was decided that such a drastic measure could not -be carried out till after an appeal to the people, and the -House of Commons first adopted the suggestion of the -committee and then resigned. The step was at once proved -to have been unnecessary. The people were in advance of -their leaders, and had come to be their friends, and supporters -of these good measures. The world looked on in -wonder as one after another of the constituencies decided to -return without opposition their present representatives to -the new Parliament. In only a few cases was there a -contested election, and in nearly every one of these there was -returned a man more strongly on the side of the people, and -for peace, than the one who had been deposed. The Government, -therefore, went back to its work with its hands greatly -strengthened.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And the first thing it did was to ask that a Council might -be elected, consisting of the same number as the House of -Commons, and elected in the same way, each constituency to -send one man as the representative of the united churches of -the locality, whose duty it would be to act for the churches -in the direction of the social and domestic affairs of the -nation. This Council was to sit in London for ten days of -each quarter; and it was to take into consideration more than -a few changes which were now admitted to be within the range -of practical politics.</p> - -<p class='c011'>One of these was a new poor law. There was to be no -more separation of the aged poor from their friends. No more -was the answer to an appeal for help in the last extremity -to be “The House or Nothing!” If an old man or woman, -or both, had sons and daughters, or grandchildren willing -to undertake the care of the failing life, if only a little pecuniary -assistance were given, the assistance was to be at once -vouchsafed. Young men who had become absolutely penniless -through affliction, or loss, or through no fault of their own -were to be henceforth helped into some sphere of work where -they could live by their own earnings. If they were ill, they -were to be nursed back into health, or sent into a convalescent -home; if they were idiots, to an asylum; or, if incapable, to a -place where kindly patient teachers would foster the little -spark of intelligence within them. The children were to be -taken away from the workhouse into a home—or, rather, the -great uncomfortable building was, in some cases, to be itself -altered and made home-like. But, for the most part, the workhouse -was to be true to its name. If a man refused to work -<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>for his wife and children, he was to be captured and brought -there with them, and compelled to support himself and them, -unless he preferred to starve. If he treated them cruelly, he -was to be, for the second offence, punished with the lash; -and it was wonderful how soon this treatment made cowardly -brutes civil in their treatment of those who were weak. But, -at the same time, everything was done that could be to make -the workhouse a city of refuge, where those who had made -themselves and one another wretched learned to love one -another and be happy.</p> - -<p class='c011'>And over these buildings were painted the words which -Christendom was bent upon obeying, with shame that the -obedience came so late: “All things whatsoever ye would -that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXVI.<br> <span class='large'>FOR EVER AFTER?</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c010'>Twelve months later an old year was passing away in -perfect calm. If it had been memorable for no other -reason, the weather would have made it so, for no year had -been more stormy or wrought more violently than this; now, -however, as if it knew a late repentance, and had grown -ashamed and sorry for the excesses of its hot youth, it seemed -to be caring for nothing but to take and give the kiss of -peace before it died. Nature was in a mood of profound -sympathy. Enough snow had fallen to beautify all rugged -and unlovely things; the wind had ceased its loud tones, and -only spoke in whispers; the moon spread its light over the -restful world, and the stars shone in the blue heavens like -lamps of gold.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There were thousands of people waiting in the expectancy -of faith and hope, who felt that an augury of good had come -to them with that night.</p> - -<p class='c011'>There was a gathering of notable people in John Dallington’s -house at Darentdale, who intended together to see the -old year out and the new year in. Arthur Knight had issued -an invitation to them all to meet at Brent House in London, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>the home of his boyhood, but if they had done so the meeting -must have been without Margaret, for she declared that not -for all the friends she had would she leave her baby, or run -the risk of his taking cold on a journey, and therefore the -meeting was at Darentdale, since Margaret’s absence was not -to be tolerated.</p> - -<p class='c011'>It was a representative gathering, and Arthur Knight -called it a “stock-taking supper,” for they had met, not only -to see one another, but to consider their gains and losses. -He was the first to arrive, and Dr. Stapleton came next. Then -followed Mr. Collinson, known all over England now as the -Children’s Pastor, because he had insisted that a minister’s -first duty was to the young of the congregation. Mr. Stapleton, -the builder, was also there; so was Mr. Emerson, the -vicar of Darentdale; and also Miss Wentworth and Mary -Wythburn, besides Mr. Whitwell and his daughter Tom, with -several other friends and helpers, among them a man who -was ready to give his life for Arthur Knight, a servant and -companion, who always spoke of himself as “the boy who -threw the stone at the Knight.” There were also one visitor -from America and one from Germany.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Darentdale presented a different appearance from that -which it revealed on the morning after its master had -returned from his travels. There were now no leaves on the -trees nor primroses in the woods; and yet, as he glanced over -the scene, he thought it more lovely than ever. One reason -was that he had kept his resolution and redeemed the land. -It was a happy day to him, as well as to his uncle and cousin, -when he paid off the mortgage which had always been a -trouble to him. And the means by which he had been -enabled to do this had in themselves been reasons of rejoicing. -He had been quite determined not to use a penny of his wife’s -money, even for so good an end. Equally determined was he -that the labourers on his farm should not suffer because he -had a debt to pay. The way out of his difficulty had been -one proposed by his friend Knight, who had come to him one -day with a proposition. “Since your land is so dear to you,” -he said, “I do not ask you to sell it; but will you let me have -a few fields on a long lease that I may plant a factory and -some workmen’s houses upon it?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Dallington was only too glad to do this. There was a -waste piece of land that only grew gorse and bushes, and -that land was now covered with pretty houses, of which -Dallington was as proud as Knight.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The latter had conducted the American visitor over this -place in the morning, and he wanted to talk of nothing else.</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>“Will you explain to me, Mr. Knight, what you mean by -calling this new colony of yours a Missionary Settlement?” -he asked.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly. It has been built wholly at the request of -some of my Craighelbyl people, whose money is invested in -it. They are men who have made the Welsh place a success, -and who, happy in their new life, have not forgotten their old -companions in London. They petitioned me to advance the -money, and allow them to take it up in shares and manage it. -It is really a co-operative concern, as the Craighelbyl place is -fast becoming now. The factory is to produce second-class -goods—that is, articles which are to be worth every penny -asked for them, and warranted to wear, but without the -finish, the polish, for which our other goods are—if you -will excuse the egotism of a manufacturer—known all over -the world. These men of mine are themselves conducting -this factory, and every man whom they employ is one who -has been rescued from drunkenness or some other wrongdoing. -So, you see, it is more than a factory—it is a mission -of usefulness. Every foreman or manager is pledged to -patience and watchfulness. No one has been allowed to help -in this matter who is not known to be a strong and consistent -Christian man. Of course, they have had some disappointments. -They told me to-day that already they have had to -send to the Asylum for drunkenness as incurable six men and -seven women; but they are hopeful that these will prove the -only ones who need go; and that the workpeople, brought -away from the temptations of London, will live sober and -godly lives.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You have greatly solved the problem of the poor by -taking them from the crowded centres of great cities.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; I do not think we could have accomplished all that -has been done excepting in this way. I know of more than -four hundred manufacturers who have taken their people and -their work away from big towns to little villages—where land -is cheaper and the air is fresh—and there have helped them -to begin life again under new conditions. In this way numbers -become quite manageable. Every man, woman, and -child is known to the master and the mistress, who are now -awake to their responsibility, and understand that if they -employ people it is their duty to look after them and care for -them. I believe there is not a Christian man in England -to-day who regards his <i><span lang="fr">employés</span></i> merely as hands to earn -money for him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Thank God!”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, indeed, we have reason to thank God. There has -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>been a great awakening of the individual conscience in the -Church.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We in America consider your latest liquor law rather -severe.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“We have had to be severe in order to be kind,” said Dr. -Stapleton. “The Legislature was resolved to stamp out -drunkenness at any cost; and I believe it is in a fair way to -be accomplished now. We never required so few prisons as -we do now; and it was a good idea to use them as refuges for -drunkards, and compel every man or woman who had been -thrice convicted of drunkenness to live in them.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“This has been a marvellously executive year,” said Mr. -Emerson. “It has been like a dream. Only a few years ago, -and at every Christmas time there were numbers of men out -of work, and some nearly starving, and now there is work for -every man who likes to do it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And, what is almost better still, every man has to work -whether he likes it or not,” said Mr. Stapleton.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You nearly had a revolution over that thing, though,” -said the American. “The liberty of the subject was in -danger.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; only a Government that knew its own strength -could have given such an excellent definition of liberty as -ours has,” replied Mr. Whitwell. “Every man has liberty to -do right, but no one has licence to do that which is evil.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But the happy change which has been brought about is -not the work of the Government. It is the work of a united -Church,” said Mr. Emerson. “That which has been accomplished -might have been done long ago if the Church had -known its power and done its duty.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You might have said if the Church had been Christian,” -suggested Tom Whitwell.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But no new thing has happened, nor has any new doctrine -been preached,” said Knight. “The only reason of all the -change is that we have come to believe that what was said in -Nazareth eighteen centuries ago is true and possible. We -were told all along that the merciful were blessed, that the -pure in heart should see God, that those who hungered and -thirsted after righteousness should be filled, and we have -simply discovered that when Jesus gave His few plain directions -regarding His kingdom He did not make impossible -regulations. That is all.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes, that is all. But it is not a little.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The best of it is that the light is flooding Germany and -America as well as England,” said the German guest.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And,” replied Arthur Knight, “Canada has been blessed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>that it has such a son as Macdonald. How I wish he could -have been with us to-night! He has been invited to deliver -his message in all the States of America. What he has done -for and in the Church of England only God knows. He has -been a second Wesley, or a Church Spurgeon, or a modern -St. Francis of Assisi. If he has not taught the people to -love poverty, he has made them ashamed of being afraid of -it; and the young men of the Church are being convinced -that there are more desirable things than luxury, wealth, -and idleness, and they are proving that there are no such -noble men in the world as Englishmen who are Christians. -Macdonald, too, has done much to bring about that Christian -union to which we owe everything. A united Church has -done what nothing else could do, and completely lifted the -poor and the degraded out of their former position.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“One wonders now,” said Mr. Collinson, “how it could be -that so many of the best people never seemed to give any -thought to their social and relative duties.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is strange, indeed; but it can scarcely ever be the case -again.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, surely not, for very shame! So many have come to -realise that their birth, and education, and wealth are given -to them in trust for others, that they will not dare to use -them entirely for themselves in the future.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is something that at last goodness and kindness are -fashionable,” said Miss Wentworth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you think there is any hope of a general disarmament?” -inquired the German.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“There is a hope, certainly. The events of the past months -have made a profound impression all over Europe and -America. At present there is assuredly no nation with sufficient -courage to declare war.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The people are disgusted with it; and now, as always, -they form the final Court of Appeal, in Germany as everywhere -else.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The best of it is that, so far as England is concerned, -we have the boys on our side,” said Mr. Collinson. “There -is no sign so hopeful as this. Your appeal, Mr. Knight, is -bringing an abundant harvest of good.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; our hope is in the boys. I watched a number of -them in the gymnasium the other day, and a fine time they -were having; but the difference that a year or two has made -in their language and behaviour is very marked.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Mr. Collinson, the children’s minister of Granchester, has -had much to do with that,” said Dr. Stapleton, “for he set -the example, which other ministers have followed.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>“Ah, no!” said Mr. Collinson. “The originators of the -Society of the Young Crusaders have accomplished the -greatest thing of the generation. What fine fellows those -boys are! They are the saviours of the nation! I declare to -you, Stapleton, that I never see your nephew without feeling -that I must take off my hat to him.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes; if the Society goes on manufacturing men of this -kind we need have no fear for the future. They will finish -what we begin. I am glad that the girls are being well -looked after, too,” said Miss Wentworth.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The great effort of the day on their behalf,” said Arthur -Knight, “must be to make them domesticated and home-loving, -for our young Crusaders are growing up with the -idea that it is a disgrace to men to let their sisters and -daughters work for a living. That is the duty and privilege -of the male.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The boys of England are having a splendid training now,” -said Mr. Whitwell. “Our plan—to put every boy that is -born under the care of a good Christian woman (his mother, -if possible, and, if not, some other)—is having excellent -results.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It is only going back to the old idea of the Church,” -said Mr. Emerson. “Every child is to have a godmother and -godfather. All that is best in these modern improvements -has come from our section of the Church.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>An amused silence which followed this remark was broken -by a question, put by the German, in regard to Craighelbyl, -which Mr. Knight answered.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The cure for strikes everywhere is to give the people a -direct share in the business. Craighelbyl has adopted this -plan from the first. The people are buying their homes with -the rent they pay. I gave them twenty years in which to do -it; but they got dissatisfied, and considered that too long a -time. Perhaps it was. I am getting recouped more quickly -than I expected; and the time is short yet. So I gave in. -We talked the matter over together, and I altered the term -to fifteen years, at the end of which time, supposing the -rents to be faithfully paid, every man’s house will be his -own. But all men are not alike; some save money more -quickly than others, even though they earn but little more; -so I have had a sum fixed for every house, and if a man can -pay it off in ten years, or even less, I have no objection. -Some will be their own landlords in less than ten years, I -believe.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And what will you do with the business?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“If they are willing to unite together, and buy it as a co-operative -<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>affair, I shall sell it to them. I think they will, -for the old jealousy which they used to feel towards each -other, and the suspicion with which they regarded any -man who seemed to be doing well, are less than they -were.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Everybody who serves in any capacity is chosen by vote, -is he not?” asked the American.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Excepting myself, the minister, the schoolmaster, and -the doctor. Eventually, perhaps,” said Knight with a smile, -“they may choose individuals to fill our places, but at present -we have been given to them, whether they liked us or not. -In Craighelbyl the people are very keen and critical. We -have fine men there. Hancourt has been a splendid manager -of the business. I am sure he will always be triumphantly -put back in his place, whatever new candidates are forthcoming. -We have an Irishman for a doctor. The people pay -no fees; they are doctored at my expense, because it is very -much to my advantage that I should have healthy workpeople; -and we have very little sickness, because the sanitary -arrangements are good, and the first symptoms of disease are -promptly seen and met.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do they all go to church?” inquired the German.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; but a very large majority may be found there. -They nearly all go to the Sunday-evening concert, held from -eight to nine in the lecture-hall, where high-class sacred -music is performed and sacred songs are sung.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Do you pay these musicians and singers?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“No; they give their services very willingly, for they are -our own people. Those who have musical taste and talent -receive an education in music, as do those who are scientifically -inclined in science.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose all education is free?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Most certainly! You see, my point is that I shall be best -served by an educated, contented, and healthy set of people. -It is all a matter of self-interest.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>During the laugh that greeted this assertion Mrs. Dallington -arose, and the ladies followed her into the drawing-room. -Mary Wythburn sat before the organ with a book of Mendelssohn -before her, and the other guests made themselves -comfortable, to listen or think, as they pleased; but Margaret -and Miss Whitwell sought a quiet corner for talk.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Madge, how well and happy you look.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“And I look as I am! Dear old Tom, I hope you will stay -a long time now, for you do not know half the delightful -things my baby can do. Your father must spare you. To -have you here is just the crown to my joy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>Margaret’s dark eyes were looking full into the face of her -friend.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I suppose you are quite busy again, Margaret,” asked -Tom.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Yes. There is plenty of work close at hand, and, you -know, Tom, we always said that the thing that was nearest -was the right thing to do.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“But I am not so sure about that now as I used to be.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Oh, you may be certain it is right in the main! We are -going to have ‘At Homes’ every Saturday afternoon and -evening for the youths and the girls on the farm. I want the -girls to copy my home as well as my dress. We shall make -them welcome, and see that they have good times—in the -drawing-room in the winter, and the garden in the summer; -and we hope they will be having an object-lesson all the time. -I used to think this sort of thing not altogether kind, and -to be afraid that after experiencing the comfort and refinement -of such a home as ours they would go back to their own -abodes more discontented than ever. But I am not afraid of -that now, for the contrasts are not so great; they can all -have comfortable homes too.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Ah! Darentdale led the way.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“It did; and I cannot tell you how thankful I am. It used -to be shameful that people were compelled to live in such -utter, hopeless misery as they did only a few years ago.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Are you going to have the youths and the girls at the -same time, and together, at these ‘At Homes’ of yours?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Certainly; why not? Were they not intended to be -together?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Your house will become a paradise of lovers, Margaret.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I only hope it may. I promise myself all sorts of pleasures -in watching my friends making the discovery that they -love and are beloved. Do you know, Miss Thomasine Grace -Whitwell, that there is nothing in all the world half so well -worth winning and having as that?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“That? What?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You do not need me to tell you, I am sure.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“You were always romantic, Margaret. Our friend, Mary -Wythburn, does not agree with you.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I am afraid not.” And she glanced significantly towards -Mary, and Dr. Stapleton, who had been the first to join her, -and who had gone at once to turn over the leaves of the -music-book. “You know, Tom, we are all committed to the -task of securing the greatest happiness for the greatest -number; and whoever makes herself and one other individual -happy is doing something towards it.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>“Margaret, you are getting most disgracefully frivolous. -I shall move to the piano. I am in danger here of being -corrupted.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Mary had left the instrument, and some one was asking, -“Will not Miss Whitwell sing for us?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Miss Whitwell is not at all in a singing mood,” she said; -but John Dallington added his request, and she was too -good-natured to refuse. At first she played a sonata, then a -march; but “A song! a song!” cried her friends, and she -gave them a ditty of her own:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“There was, among the fields of earth,</div> - <div class='line in2'>A little patch of ground,</div> - <div class='line'>Which loving hearts held priceless,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And tender hands hedged round,—</div> - <div class='line'>A small brown patch, with naught to show,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Save a weed here and there;</div> - <div class='line'>But it proved a triumph-trophy, won</div> - <div class='line in2'>By kindliness and care.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Frosts sealed it down in safe, close warmth</div> - <div class='line in2'>Till the cold passed away;</div> - <div class='line'>Then genial showers fell softly,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Then the sun shone all day,</div> - <div class='line'>And deft hands turned it over,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And treasures green and gold</div> - <div class='line'>With lavish generosity</div> - <div class='line in2'>Were given for it to hold.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“And through the summer, beautiful</div> - <div class='line in2'>Was that same patch of ground,</div> - <div class='line'>For fragrant flowers, and rich, ripe fruits,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And golden corn were found.</div> - <div class='line'>And over it the glad birds sang</div> - <div class='line in2'>Their merry hymns and lays,</div> - <div class='line'>And near to it the hearts of men</div> - <div class='line in2'>Poured forth their Master’s praise.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“And, best of all, He came to see</div> - <div class='line in2'>The patch of ground prepared,</div> - <div class='line'>And His eyes noted the green spot,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And knew how it had fared;</div> - <div class='line'>And smiled the gentle Master then,</div> - <div class='line in2'>For He saw what love had won,</div> - <div class='line'>And crowned the workers with the words:</div> - <div class='line in2'>‘My faithful ones, well done!’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>“Now, Margaret, it is your turn,” said the singer. “Give -us something merry.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“The Doctor will do that,” said John; and Stapleton gave -<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>“Rule, Britannia!” with variations, that were very varied -indeed.</p> - -<p class='c011'>After a time, “Will not Mr. Knight favour us with a -song?” asked Margaret. “I know he does sing.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Not often,” replied Arthur, as he took his seat at the -piano, and prepared to accompany himself.</p> - -<p class='c011'>All eyes in the room turned affectionately towards him.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“He is a man, take him for all in all,</div> - <div class='line'>We ne’er shall look upon his like again.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>John Dallington made the quotation softly, so that only -those nearest to him heard it; but they realised its aptness as -they looked at the truest knight of the century. What a brave -battle he had fought, and how little he regarded himself as -a hero! How unswervingly he had run his course, turning -neither to the right nor the left, but reaching the goal of his -desire only to lay his victor’s crown on the altar of his faith. -A man of remarkable talents, indeed, and thankful for every -one of them; for the high thoughts which he knew had been -given to him, not made by him, for the power to speak so -that men were persuaded, for the health which had enabled -him to endure fatigue, and the wealth which he might use as -he pleased, and for the courage of his convictions, which had -made him do where others had but ventured to dream! He -could not ignore it all on this, the last day of the year, any -more than others did, but he had many misgivings and -regrets to keep him humble. Strange to say, he was feeling -very lonely, though in the midst of his dearest friends; and -perhaps the sight of Dallington’s happiness made him realise -more than ever before that, however much he had gained, he -had missed something without which no man’s life is complete. -His thoughts were with his father. Some one a few -minutes before had asked him whether he ever took up a -newspaper nowadays without seeing his own name in it; -and he answered half irritably, “Yes, very often,” for that -was not a particularly interesting item to him; then he wondered -what his father would think of it all if he could know; -and a shadow of self-reproach stole over him, and a fear, lest, -after all, he had not done wisely and well. But they were -waiting for his song, and presently his voice, to which he -owed so much, rang out clearly, though in subdued tones:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in10'>“Give pardon to-night,</div> - <div class='line in10'>O God of the light!</div> - <div class='line'>For we are like children who wail in the shade,</div> - <div class='line in14'>Half afraid;</div> - <div class='line in8'><span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>And look up to Thy face</div> - <div class='line in8'>For love, comfort, and grace.</div> - <div class='line in8'>Around Thee we gather—</div> - <div class='line in8'>Forgive us, our Father!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in8'>“The day breaks at last,</div> - <div class='line in8'>The shadows are past,</div> - <div class='line'>And we must go forward, pursuing our way</div> - <div class='line in8'>Through the day;</div> - <div class='line in8'>Go Thou where we go,</div> - <div class='line in8'>Thy will make us know,</div> - <div class='line in8'>And, all danger scorning,</div> - <div class='line in8'>Go forth to the morning.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>“The morning is almost here,” said Dallington.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Would you not like to meet the year outside? It is a -glorious night.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The scene in the garden was so beautiful that few words -were spoken. It was as if the very world held its breath and -listened. A silence fell on every one, for every heart was -full of prayer. Margaret forgot all her guests for a few -minutes, and slipped her hand within the arm of her husband. -Miss Whitwell stood a little apart from the rest, -thinking her own thoughts. Dr. Stapleton whispered to -Miss Wythburn an old wish from Shakespeare—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“God give thee many days of happy years.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>Arthur Knight repeated his own words:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c012'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Give pardon to-night, O God of the light!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>Then the silence was so deep that it seemed almost as -if their thoughts could be heard. Perhaps they were! -Miss Whitwell softly whispered hers—“The Lord hear thee -in the day of trouble, the name of the God of Jacob defend -thee; send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen -thee out of Zion; remember all thy offerings, and accept -thy burnt sacrifice; grant thee thy heart’s desire, and fulfil -all thy mind.” Some irresistible power drew her eyes to -where Arthur Knight was standing, looking perhaps the -most sorrowfully of any of the party. He met her look, and -a thought flashed into his mind that electrified him.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Can it be possible! Did she really only care for Dallington -as a cousin! What does it mean? Can it be?——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>With a sudden impulse of hope he stepped to her side.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Grace,” he said, “the old house in London is very solitary; -and so is the heart of its owner, in Craighelbyl as well -as in London.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>“Oh, no, no!” she said. “How can you be solitary when -you have been so honoured?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Grace, do you know that I love you, that I have loved -you all the time, ever since I first knew you?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Again she whispered, “Oh, no, no!” scarcely knowing what -she said. But Arthur had put his arm around her, and could -feel the beating of her heart. “Oh, my darling,” he said, “is -it possible that you can care for me? I had not dared to -hope it! Is it really true that we may begin the year -together—<em>together</em>?”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The first stroke of the Darentdale church clock struck -through the silence of the night. Arthur drew the trembling -girl more closely to him, and held her fast while the slow -bell sounded twelve times. She tried to be perfectly still, -and not even sigh forth the gladness that was almost -breaking her heart; but when the clock ceased, and the -bells pealed out, she lifted her eyes to his face for a moment, -and he stooped and kissed her.</p> - -<p class='c011'>Then they remembered their friends, but no one seemed -to have observed them. The old formula, “A Happy New -Year!” was on the lips of all; but before it could be uttered -some one began to sing the opening words of the <i><span lang="la">Te Deum</span></i>, -and everybody sang with a full heart: “We praise Thee, O -God; we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord. All the earth -doth worship Thee, the Father everlasting.” Then dark -forms were seen coming quietly towards them; and presently -Dallington said to Knight, “They are the people -from the village; they have come over the hill to wish you -a Happy New Year. Ah! the thousands who would like to -do the same thing! How well they sing!” And indeed they -did sing, joining in the anthem, as if every one was contrasting -the joy of this New Year with the sorrows of past -days, and feeling such joy and thankfulness as could only be -expressed in praise to the Great Father. And that old -grand psalm of the ages, sung in many an august scene, -never thrilled with fuller meaning than now, when the stars -looked down upon the singers, and the very air of the night -seemed alive with human emotion. So the anthem swelled to -its close—“O Lord, in Thee have I trusted; let me never be -confounded!”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE END.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>LONDON:</span></div> - <div><span class='small'>W. 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Crown 8vo, cloth, 2s. 6d.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Roslyn’s Trust.</span> By <span class='sc'>Lucy C. Lillie</span>, Author of -“Prudence,” “Kenyon’s Wife,” “The Household of Glen -Holly.” Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.</p> - -<p class='c019'>“<em>I have seldom, if ever, read a work of fiction that moved me with so much -admiration.</em>”—<span class='sc'>George MacDonald.</span></p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>For the Right: A German Romance.</span> By <span class='sc'>Emil -Franzos</span>. Given in English by <span class='sc'>Julie Sutter</span> (translator of -“Letters from Hell”). Preface by Dr. <span class='sc'>George MacDonald</span>. -Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. Third Edition.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Dinah’s Son.</span> By <span class='sc'>L. B. Walford</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, -3s. 6d.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Hagar: A North Yorkshire Story.</span> By <span class='sc'>Mary -Linskill</span>, Author of “Between the Heather and the Northern -Sea,” “The Haven under the Hill,” &c., &c. Crown 8vo, 1s.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Lillo and Ruth</span>; or, Aspirations. By <span class='sc'>Helen Hays</span>. -Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Mertonsville Park; or, Herbert Seymour’s Choice.</span> -By Mrs. <span class='sc'>Woodward</span>. Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Clarissa’s Tangled Web.</span> By <span class='sc'>Beatrice Bristowe</span>. -Crown 8vo, cloth, 5s.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Sister Ursula.</span> By <span class='sc'>Lucy Warden Bearne</span>. Crown -8vo, cloth, 5s.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Priscilla; or, The Story of a Boy’s Love.</span> By <span class='sc'>Clara -L. Willmets</span>. Cloth, 1s. 6d.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The Cathedral Shadow.</span> By <span class='sc'>Marianne Farningham.</span> -Fifth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d.; gilt -edges, 4s.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The Snow Queen.</span> By <span class='sc'>Maggie Symington</span>. Third -Thousand. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 1s. 6d.; gilt edges, 2s.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='large'>BY AMELIA E. BARR.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>“<em>Mrs. Barr’s stories are always pleasant to read. They are full of sweetness -and light.</em>”—<span class='sc'>Scotsman.</span></p> - -<p class='c019'>“<em>In descriptive writing, in simplicity and gracefulness of style, and in perfect -mastery over her characters, Mrs. Barr can hold her own with any living English -novelist.</em>”—<span class='sc'>Glasgow Herald.</span></p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c021'> - <div><em>NOW READY.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c022'><span class='sc'>Friend Olivia.</span> Crown 8vo, 6s.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c021'> - <div>In a variety of handsome cloth bindings, or bound uniformly, crown 8vo.</div> - <div class='c003'><em>THREE SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE EACH.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c021'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>In the Press.</em> <span class='sc'>A Sister to Esau.</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>She Loved a Sailor.</span> <em>Just Ready</em></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Last of the MacAllisters</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Woven of Love and Glory</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Feet of Clay</span> (<em>with portrait of author</em>)</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Household of McNeil</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>In Spite of Himself</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>A Border Shepherdess</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Paul and Christina</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Squire of Sandal Side</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Bow of Orange Ribbon</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Between Two Loves</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>A Daughter of Fife</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Jan Vedder’s Wife</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c021'> - <div>⁂ <em>A new and cheap edition of</em> “<span class='sc'>Jan Vedder’s Wife</span>” <em>is now issued. In paper cover, price 1s. 6d.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The Harvest of the Wind, and Other Stories.</span> -By <span class='sc'>Amelia E. Barr</span>. Crown 8vo, paper, 1s.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='large'>NOVELS BY EMMA JANE WORBOISE.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><em>NEW AND CHEAP EDITION.</em></div> - <div class='c003'>⁂ <em>These Novels, which have hitherto been sold at Five Shillings</em></div> - <div><em>each, are now issued at</em></div> - <div class='c003'><em>THREE SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE EACH.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Thornycroft Hall</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Millicent Kendrick</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>St. Beetha’s</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Violet Vaughan</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Margaret Torrington</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Fortunes of Cyril Denham</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Singlehurst Manor</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Overdale</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Grey and Gold</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Mr. Montmorency’s Money</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Nobly Born</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Chrystabel</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Canonbury Holt</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Husbands and Wives</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The House of Bondage</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Emilia’s Inheritance</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Father Fabian</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Oliver Westwood</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Lady Clarissa</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Grey House at Endlestone</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Robert Wreford’s Daughter</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Brudenells of Brude</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Heirs of Errington</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Joan Carisbroke</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>A Woman’s Patience</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Story of Penelope</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Sissie</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Abbey Mill</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Warleigh’s Trust</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Esther Wynne</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Fortune’s Favourite</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>His Next of Kin.</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><em>The following 3s. 6d. Volumes are now issued at Three Shillings each.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Married Life; or, The Story of Phillip and Edith</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Our New House; or, Keeping up Appearances</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Heartsease in the Family</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Maude Bolingbroke</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Amy Wilton</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Helen Bury</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='large'><em>BOOKS FOR THE HOLIDAYS. SPECIAL OFFER.</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>A limited number of the following Novels, published at <span class='sc'>Four -Shillings and Sixpence</span>, are now offered at <span class='sc'>Two Shillings and -Sixpence</span>.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Campion Court</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Evelyn’s Story</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Lottie Lonsdale</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Sir Julian’s Wife</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Lillingstones</span></div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Wife’s Trials</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c003'> -</div> -<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> - -<div class='chapter ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c009'> - <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - - <ol class='ol_1 c002'> - <li>P. <a href='#t121'>121</a>, changed “The next moment she met her cousin. “Tom,” he said” to “The - next moment she met her cousin. “Tom,” she said.” - - </li> - <li>P. <a href='#t207'>207</a>, changed “was an ideal day for a holiday, not too hot to be pleasant” - to “was an ideal day for a holiday, not too hot to be unpleasant”. - - </li> - <li>Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. - - </li> - <li>Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINETEEN HUNDRED? ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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