"Alas, it is not for so short a time," answered Mr Lennard; "the seed was sown by the tutor with whom he spent a year or more, and finally matured by this same Father Lascelles and his tutor at college. He is the very man with whom Mr Lerew read, I find. I wonder that he was not the means of his older pupil"s perversion."
"Mr Lerew is not so honest a man as your son," answered the general; "Mr Lerew was about to take orders, and would prove a useful tool, while it was more prudent to secure your son at once, as he, it was supposed, would inherit your property. I wish that I could offer you consolation; but I fear that you would consider me a Job"s comforter at the best."
Mr Lennard had come hoping to take Mary home; but she appeared scarcely able to undertake so long a journey, and Clara confessed that she herself was unwilling to return as yet to Luton. Poor Mr Lennard was nearly heart-broken on hearing from the doctor that he thought very badly of Mary"s case.
"Could I not take her abroad, to Madeira, or the south of France?" he asked.
"It would be, I feel confident, useless," was the melancholy answer; "had she strength to stand the journey, her life might possibly be prolonged for a few weeks; but she would probably lose more by the exertion of travelling than she would gain by the change. Here she is under loving care, and we may alleviate her sufferings."
Some more weeks wore by, and Mary grew worse. Mr Lennard felt, what some parents do not, that it was his duty, though a painful one, to tell his daughter that her days were numbered, and at the same time to afford her such comfort as, according to his knowledge, he could. He gently broke the subject.
"I know it," she answered. "I asked Clara if she thought I was dying, and she told me that the doctor said I could not recover; but, dear papa, I am prepared to go away to One who loves me, though I am sorry, very sorry, to leave you, and Clara, and the general, and those who have been kind to me."
The tears were falling from Mr Lennard"s eyes.
"You have been a dear good girl, and have enjoyed the blessing of baptism, and have been confirmed, and have received the sacrament; you shall receive it again if you wish, and I hope that G.o.d will take you to heaven."
"Oh, dear, dear papa, don"t speak so," answered Mary; "I know that I am a wretched sinner; I have done nothing to merit G.o.d"s love and mercy; but I know that Jesus Christ died for me, and that His blood cleanseth from all sin; and, trusting to Him, I am sure that He will receive me in the place He has gone before to prepare for those who love Him. I have faith in Christ; that is my happiness, hope, and confidence. I am not afraid to die, for I know that He will be with me through the shadow of the valley of death."
Mr Lennard gazed at her, unable to speak. He could not ask her further questions, but was revolving in his own mind the meaning of what she had said. She had no confidence in any of the objects which he had been accustomed to present to the minds of the dying, if he believed them to be good Churchmen, and if not, he had always urged them to repent of their sins and to take the sacrament, in the hope that thus G.o.d might receive them into heaven. Mary"s remarks had brought new light to his soul; she trusted solely to the _all-finished work_ of Christ, to whom she looked as her Saviour, with full a.s.surance that He would welcome her to heaven. She thought not, she spoke not, of any of the rites and ceremonies in which he had trusted himself, and had taught others to trust, rather than to the blood of the Atonement. She did not ask even him, her father, and, as he had fancied himself, a priest, to offer a prayer on her behalf. No, she was resting joyfully on Christ as her all-sufficient Saviour.
"I see it all now," he said, half aloud; "it is this of which the general has been speaking to me lately, but which I did not comprehend."
"Yes, dear papa; Jesus did it all long ago; He saved me then, and I am trusting in Him; that makes me so happy, so very happy," exclaimed Mary.
"I believe as you do," answered Mr Lennard; "would that I had known and taught your poor brother the same truth! it would have prevented him from falling into the toils of Rome."
"We can pray for him, that he may be rescued from them," said Mary.
"I wished to make him a sound Churchman, and taught him that there is but one true Church, and that that is the Church of England; and miserable has been the result," said Mr Lennard.
"Alfred may be brought back. G.o.d will hear our united prayers,"
whispered Mary.
"I cannot pray with faith that my prayer will be answered," he murmured.
"I did my utmost to instil the belief into him, and he has ever since been with those who have done their utmost to forward the same notion."
Mary now became her father"s comforter. She lingered with those who loved her for some time longer, proving an especial blessing to Clara, who had, as her ever-watchful nurse, constant employment and occupation for her thoughts and feelings. The general remained with his sister, and afforded Clara that instruction and guidance she so much needed, while he put into her hands such books as were best calculated to strengthen her mind and to do away with all traces of that mysticism which she had imbibed both before and during her life in the convent.
With clearer perceptions of truth than she had ever before enjoyed, she was now better able to perform her duties in life. She had written to her aunt, saying that she hoped some day to return home, but was at present employed in nursing her young friend Mary Lennard, whom she could not at present leave; but she did not think it necessary to speak of her escape from the convent, or to enter into other particulars, so that Miss Pemberton remained in ignorance of her change of opinions.
Mr Lennard had twice gone away in the hope of meeting his son and inducing him to attend the death-bed of his sister; but the priests, who were well-informed of the religious opinions of those who had taken charge of Mary, made him send various excuses, and poor Mary was deprived of the satisfaction of seeing her brother again. When Mr Lennard returned, Mary had become much weaker, and she could only whisper, "Pray for poor Alfred; don"t be angry with him--he may be brought back;" and her young spirit went to be with the Saviour in whom she trusted. Clara aided the general in comforting their friend.
The bereaved father found peace at last; but often before that, in the bitterness of his heart, he would exclaim, "It was that school, that abominable system of fasting and penance, and that accursed confessional, which killed her; and to have my poor weak misguided boy carried off and enslaved body and soul by those wolves in sheep"s clothing, it is more than I can bear! It was I--I alone, who in my blindness and ignorance and folly exposed them to the malign influences which have caused their destruction. I have been the murderer of my children!"
A few days after Mary"s funeral, Clara, with the general and Mr Lennard, returned to Luton. Miss Pemberton received her niece with a look of astonishment.
"Why, I expected to see you dressed as a nun, Clara," she exclaimed; "have you given up your vocation? Dear me! Mr Lerew will be very much disappointed; he fully expected that you would devote your fortune to Saint Agatha"s."
"I will explain matters to you, aunt, by-and-by," answered Clara, not wishing on her first arrival at home to enter into any discussion. "I hope that you have not felt yourself very solitary during my long absence."
"As to that, I can"t say I have been very lively, for the whole neighbourhood is divided, and because I go to church and confession, all of your father"s old friends have ceased to call on me; but of late I have begun to think that they are not altogether wrong. I must acknowledge that since Sir Reginald and Lady Bygrave, and Mrs Lerew, and two or three other people turned Catholics, my confidence in the vicar and the High Church has been a little shaken. Mrs Lerew wanted me to turn too; but I was not going to do that, and even the vicar did not advise it, though he said he couldn"t help his wife going over; for if so many went, people"s suspicions would be aroused, and he should be unable to establish his college."
"I am truly thankful that you did not go over," answered Clara. "I have learnt a good deal about the Ritualists of late, and I am very sure that their tendency is towards Rome. I have one favour to ask, that is, should Mr Lerew call, that you will not admit him, as it would be painful to me to see him again, for I cannot receive him as a friend."
"Why, have you found out anything about him?" asked Miss Pemberton, her conscience accusing her.
"There is much, aunt, to which, I object in him," answered Clara, firmly.
"Well, I don"t wish you to be annoyed, my dear, in any way," said Miss Pemberton; "and, in truth, I suspect that he wanted to get hold of your fortune for his new college. If he finds that he has no chance of that, I don"t think he will trouble you much."
"I would rather not think about him in any way," said Clara; "and do pray tell me how Widow Jones and Mrs Humble and her blind daughter, and the poor Hobbies, with their idiot boy, are getting on. I must go and see them and my other friends as soon as possible."
Clara then went on to make further enquiries about her poorer neighbours, and was grieved to find that her aunt had not troubled herself about them during her absence.
"It was all my fault," she said to herself; "I was placed here to help them, and I have neglected that very clear duty by giving way to delusive fancies."
Clara lost no time in carrying out her intentions, and was received with a hearty welcome wherever she went. Very frequently remarks were made which showed her that the poor had a clearer perception of the tendencies of the ritualistic system than she herself had previously possessed.
"We be main glad to see you again looking so like yourself, Miss,"
exclaimed Dame Hobby. "They said as how the vicar had got you to go into a monkery that he might spend your money to pay for his fripperies in the church, his candles, and that smoky stuff, and his pictures and gold-embroidered dresses, and flags and crosses, and all they singing men and women, and dressing up the little boys, as if G.o.d cared for such things, or they could make us love Him and serve Him better, for that"s my notion of what religion should do. The Bible says we can go straight to G.o.d through Jesus Christ, and pray to Him as our Father; and all these things seem to me only to stand in the way; and when we want to be praying, we are instead looking about at the goings on, and listening to the music. "Tisn"t that I haven"t a respect for the parson and the church; but when I go to church, I go to pray and to hear G.o.d"s word read and explained from the pulpit in a way simple people can understand."
Clara found much the same opinions expressed by all she visited. The general came every day to see her, to strengthen and support her. His conversation had a very good effect on Miss Pemberton, whose eyes having once been opened to the tendencies of the ritualistic system, she was enabled to see it in its true light. She resolved to have nothing more to say to Mr Lerew, and to refuse to receive him, should he call. Soon after Clara returned home he had started on a tour to collect funds for his college, and as he was absent, Clara was saved from the annoyance she had expected. The general was fortunately paying a visit to Clara and her aunt when Mr Lerew at length came to call on Miss Pemberton to enquire why she had not during his absence attended church. It was agreed that it would be better to admit him. He tried to a.s.sume his usual unimpa.s.sioned manner as he entered the room; but the frown on his brow and his puckered lips showed his annoyance and anger. He had not had the early training which enables the Jesuit priest effectually to conceal his feelings. He had evidently heard that Clara had left the convent, as he showed no surprise at seeing her. He probably would have behaved very differently to what he did, had not the general been present. Shaking hands with all the party, he took a seat, and brushing his hat with his glove, cleared his throat, and then said, "I was afraid, Miss Pemberton, that you were ill, as you have not, I understand, favoured the church with your presence for the last two Sundays."
"I had my reasons for not going," answered Miss Pemberton; "and I may as well tell you that I purpose in future not to attend your church, as I see clearly that your preaching and the system carried on there leads Romeward; and I have no wish to become a Romanist or to encourage others by my presence to run the risk of becoming so either."
"Romanist! Romanist!" exclaimed Mr Lerew; "I have no dealings with Rome; I don"t want my people to become Romanists."
"The proof of the pudding is in the eating, Mr Lerew," answered Miss Pemberton, dryly. "I have expressed my resolution, and I hope to adhere to it."
Mr Lerew was not prepared with an answer; but turning to Clara, he said, "I trust, Miss Maynard, that though you have thought fit to abandon the sacred calling to which I had hoped you would have devoted yourself, you will still remain faithful to the Church."
"I cannot make any promise on the subject," answered Clara, being anxious not to say anything to irritate the vicar. "I believe that I was before blinded and led away from the truth, when I was induced to enter the sisterhood of Saint Barbara, and I now desire to retrieve my error."
"I understand you, ladies," exclaimed the vicar, losing command of his temper. "Remember that by deserting the Church you are guilty of the heinous crime of schism, for which, till repented of, there is no pardon here or hereafter. General Caulfield, I fear that you have much to answer for in having set the example in my parish; you will excuse me for saying so."
"It is you and those who side with you who are guilty of the schism of which you speak," said the general, mildly. "The Church of England protests clearly against the errors of Rome; and you, by adopting many, if not all those errors, are virtually cutting yourself off from that Church, although you retain a post in it. But let me explain that the schism spoken of in the New Testament is the departing from the truth of the Gospel, and the practices it inculcates; in other words, those who leave Christ"s spiritual Church. My great object is to draw my fellow-creatures into that Church; to induce them to accept Christ as the Way, the Truth, and the Life; to persuade them to grasp that hand so lovingly stretched forth to lead them to the Father. I ignore the schism of which you speak, invented by the sacerdotalists to alarm the uneducated. You have my reply, Mr Lerew, and I wish you clearly to understand that I purpose, with G.o.d"s a.s.sistance, by every means in my power to make known the truth of the Gospel in this parish and in every place where false teaching prevails."
"Then I shall look upon you as a schismatic and a foe to our Church,"
exclaimed Mr Lerew, rising.
"I have already explained to you the true meaning of schism," said the general, quietly, "and have particularly to request that all further discussion on this subject may cease. Miss Pemberton and her niece have expressed their sentiments, and you have long known mine. I trust that none of us will change; and anything further said on the subject can only cause annoyance."
Mr Lerew saw that he had lost his influence over Clara and her aunt, and not wishing to remain longer than he could help in the general"s society, quickly took his departure. He had not as yet seen Mr Lennard since his return, nor had he heard the cause of poor Mary"s death; he at once drove over to his house. Instead of the hearty manner Mr Lennard usually exhibited, he received his visitor with marked coldness. Mr Lerew was puzzled.
"I am sorry that my absence from home has prevented me hitherto from calling on you," he said; "but I rejoice to have you back, and I hope that you will a.s.sist at the celebrations in my church."
"I come to a sad home, deprived of my young daughter by death, and my son by his perversion to the Church of Rome," answered Mr Lennard, gravely, not noticing the last remark. "I know that my child has left this world for a far better; but I cannot forget that the seeds of her disease were produced by the system practised at the school you recommended, Mr Lerew, as also that my son"s perversion was much owing to the instruction received from the tutor under whom, by your advice, I placed him. The daughter of my late friend Captain Maynard has happily escaped from the toils you threw around her; and though I am ready heartily to forgive the injuries you have inflicted on me, I feel myself called on to expose the traitorous efforts you and others with whom you are a.s.sociated are making to uproot the Protestant principles of the Church. I believe that I am actuated by no hostile feeling towards yourself personally; but I will take every means in my power to put a stop to the practices which you pursue in your church."