This led to the mention of the portrait in the parlor. The old gentleman sighed, for he remembered how touchingly his kneeling daughter had appealed to it when he was last below. "I should think," said Emily, "Lucy would have it hung there, where you can see it from your chair,"
pointing to a vacant place on the wall.
After a moment"s pause, he replied, "since it has been changed to the new frame I have not thought it as natural." Joseph had purchased and brought from the city some years since ma.s.sive and heavy frames, and the sweet face so subdued and tender looked out of keeping with its surroundings.
After a few moments, Emily called the attendants to remain with her patient, and hastening to Mrs. Burns, asked if the old frames to the portraits were in existence. Together they ascended to the garret, found the very article for which they were searching, packed away with old rubbish. Almost trembling at her own daring, she carried it below, removed the picture from its ma.s.sive frame with the ready a.s.sistance of the house-keeper, and soon had it replaced in its old case. The question now was how to get it into the room.
Mrs. Burns said, "Lucy would never dare to propose the thing to her father. She has been trodden upon so long, she has no will of her own."
Determined to carry out her plan, now that she had gone so far, Emily arranged the cord and ta.s.sel so that she could hang it up in an instant, and setting it down at the door of the room, returned to her charge.
She playfully suggested to him the idea of a look from the window, and wheeled the chair around for that purpose, when quickly catching the frame from its hiding place, she suspended it from the nail before the sick man had noticed her absence from his side. She stood by him combing his thin, gray locks until her heart began to beat more freely, and then wheeling the chair back to its usual place, awaited with no little trembling, the result of her project. She now magnified in her own mind the oft repeated necessity for perfect quiet and freedom from excitement.
She took a book, and sat down, when she saw her patient give a start that almost threw him out of his chair, saying in a half frightened, though joyful tone, "My wife! _my wife!!_ my own dear Mary, do forgive me!"
Emily hastened to rea.s.sure the old gentleman who did not attempt to speak again for some minutes; but when she playfully told him of the pleasant surprise, she intended, he confessed that for a moment he thought his wife had appeared to him to upbraid him for his cruel treatment of her daughter. But now nothing could induce him to have her portrait removed.
CHAPTER XXI.
* * * * * "Thy natal day, Love bids it welcome, the love which hath smiled, Ever around thee, my gentle child!
Watching thy footsteps and guarding thy bed, And pouring out joy on thy sunny head.
Roses may vanish, but this will stay,-- Happy and bright is thy natal day." MRS. HEMANS.
_Tuesday, April 11th._
Walter has to-day taken his first exercise in walking alone. He is very proud of his achievement, but no more so than his little sister who stands at a short distance with outstretched arms and utters the encouraging words, "Come, dear brother; _come_ to sister!"
He makes the attempt, but is so elated that he does not regard the good old-fashioned precept, "Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall," and straightway he lies prostrate on the floor. But sister is not discouraged, and amidst shouts of delight on his part, and sweet musical tones on hers, he is placed against the wall and prepares for a new triumph. Pauline is not satisfied that there should be so few present to witness the astonishing feat. She runs to the library for her father. "Oh! papa, come quick, and see what Walter can do!" She soon a.s.sembled the whole household. Papa looked on with the most complacent of smiles, hardly knowing which to admire more, the new use to which his first-born son was determined to put his understanding, or the unselfish triumph of his little daughter. Caesar, Phebe and Ann loudly applauded the little fellow. This, as is often the case with persons of riper years, only made him top-heavy and brought him sooner down to his proper level. But nothing daunted, he started again, rendered almost wild by the hearty cheers of those around him. At last, mamma came to the rescue. The young hope of the house must rest for a season, in antic.i.p.ation of new trials and new victories.
_Evening._
Emily called to hear the last advices from Joseph Lee. The latest intelligence was quite encouraging. The patient is much more calm and sleeps well under the influence of powerful anodynes, and if nothing new occurs, bids fair to recover. If he were the most affectionate of brothers, Lucy could not feel more grateful. She wrote to his physician to spare no expense for the comfort of her brother, who would ere long, she hoped, be able to return home.
_Wednesday, April 19th._
This is the second anniversary of my wedding. How much happiness has fallen to my lot! My own Frank grows every day more dear to me. How fervently he prayed this morning for me and for himself, giving thanks to G.o.d for our happy union and the various blessings with which divine mercy has crowned it, and seeking for us still larger supplies of grace, that increased fidelity to its duties may perpetuate and multiply our joys. May G.o.d give me grace to prove myself a worthy help-meet! I often fear that I am too much engrossed with my earthly treasures. My husband, children and friends occupy too much of my time and thoughts, while I am liable to forget the Giver of these rich mercies. Oh, that I may not in this way bring upon myself his chastening rod! Oh, that all my earthly affections may be so sanctified as to be acceptable to my Father in heaven!
_Tuesday, May 2d._
This is my dear Walter"s birth-day. Through how many scenes have I pa.s.sed in one year! This was indeed the hour of nature"s trial. But oh!
how richly is the agony of the mother repaid by her joy at the sound of the sweet voice so soon calling her _mamma_! Next to _home_, the embodiment of all earthly joys, this is to me the sweetest word in all our language. From the bottom of my heart I pity the Stoic who cannot comprehend the full and precious import of the word _home_.
_Evening._
We have had quite a little fete in honor of our young Lenox. Phebe exercised all her skill in the preparation of a birthday cake, which was however intended for the guests, the children being perfectly content with a piece of the frosting.
Pauline"s tiny set of china was brought in requisition. This was a present from her father on her own birth-day, which we celebrate on the sixth of June, the day on which we received her as a precious boon from heaven. The dear girl, with Ann for an a.s.sistant, arranged the table in the dining-room, and issued the invitations in behalf of her brother; and when her feast was ready went round from room to room to lead in her guests.
None of the household were omitted, though Ruth was obliged to excuse herself as she had been previously invited to officiate as bridemaid in the village. Papa and mamma were permitted to occupy seats together on one side of the table, a privilege which the gentleman acknowledged by a low bow. Grandmamma and aunt Emily sat opposite. Master Lenox was in his high chair at the head of the table, with good Caesar and Phebe beside him. Pauline took the seat which I usually occupied, with Ann by her side.
Our sable friends had joined in the birth-day sports of Ma.s.s"r Frank and Misse Emily, and felt no embarra.s.sment in sitting with us on such an occasion, in honor of which Phebe had donned a new turban of brilliant hues, and Caesar had given his face, eyes, and teeth an extra shine. But Ann felt it necessary to apologize for the liberty, and said "Miss Pauline would have it so."
The Doctor replied pleasantly, "All"s right, Ann, Pauline knows what is proper." As for the child, her duties became rather onerous. She flew around the table, moving one here and another there, until at length her guests were arranged to her satisfaction. Then she resumed her own seat.
Thinking that he had waited quite long enough, Walter, with a quick motion jumped up in his chair, and helped himself to a large piece of the sugared cake which stood before him. Pauline was shocked, and said "Please, brother, don"t do so, I was just going to ask papa to say grace." But her papa was laughing so much that he declined to officiate as chaplain, and advised her to distribute her treat at once.
To tell the whole truth, the young gentleman, in honor of whom the invitation was given, did not get to himself much credit by his conduct on the occasion. He upset everything within his reach, and was only appeased when his obliging friend at his side allowed him the free use of his curly head for a plaything, when he soon had his little fingers so tangled in the wool as to allow the rest of the company an opportunity to enjoy themselves in peace.
If all the truth must be told, the grave Doctor, from whom we should least have expected trouble, did not certainly distinguish himself by sobriety. Indeed I was obliged to request his mother to dismiss him from the table, unless he could control his risibles.
Never was matron more perplexed and annoyed by the conduct of guests than was our hostess. Flushed with excitement, her brow knit with anxiety lest some one should be overlooked, she flew around, and then remembering that this was not mamma"s manner, she returned to her seat and there tried to do the honors in the most approved style.
_Friday, May 12th._
Lucy has received a letter from Joseph in reply to one from her, urging him to come home. In it he manifests the most horrible disregard of his own state, just arising from what appeared to be his death-bed, and also of the gradually dying condition of his father, and refuses ever to go beneath "the accursed roof while the old man lives." The deeply afflicted sister is horrified beyond measure, but of course will conceal the letter from her father.
Squire Lee has often asked, if Joseph is not coming home, and feels grieved that his son left him in anger. He confessed to the Doctor, a few days ago, that the sins of Joseph lay heavily upon his conscience, at the same time repeating a quotation from the morning reading in which the woe was p.r.o.nounced upon Eli and his house "because his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not."
_Sat.u.r.day, May 13th._
I called at Squire Lee"s to-day, and happening to have Pauline with me, I took her up into the old gentleman"s room. He appeared extremely feeble, and after I had said a few words to him, and was turning to take a seat, Lucy led Pauline toward the bed. With a look of horror upon his countenance, he screamed, "Who is she? _Who is she?_ I don"t want her here. Oh, let her go away!"
The poor child began to cry, and I hastily led her from the room, wondering why the sight of her should cause such unusual agitation. Lucy sent a servant to beg me to go into the parlor, where she would soon meet me. I took Pauline in my lap, but it was some time before I could succeed in soothing her. She said, "the sick man makes dreadful faces at me."
Lucy said, her father wished her to apologize to me, and to say, that the child resembled so strongly a lady he had known when in Europe, that for a moment he thought her standing before him. "But when I told him,"
she added, "it was your little girl, he was relieved at once. I think,"
continued she, with slight agitation, "father must have had some unpleasant a.s.sociations, connected with the lady, he mentioned, for he was laboring under strong excitement, while the perspiration stood in drops upon his brow."
On my return, I related to Frank what had happened; he said I had better avoid taking Pauline there again, since such excitements might prove fatal to his patient. I don"t remember that the old gentleman ever saw her before.
CHAPTER XXII.
* * * * ""Tis with our souls As with our eyes, that, after a long darkness, Are dazzled at th" sudden approach of light; When in th" midst of fears we are surpris"d With unexpected happiness; the first Degrees of joy are mere astonishment." DENHAM.
_Sat.u.r.day, May 20th._
I have been to-day with Emily and Pauline to make some calls. On our return, we drove to the small tenement occupied by the Reynolds family.
We found the contented, happy wife busy in the performance of her household duties. She said, she wanted to sing for joy at the reformation of her husband. He was well with the exception of a dreadful faintness at his stomach, the consequence of leaving off the stimulus to which he has been so long accustomed. She said, she had sometimes thought of applying to the Doctor for a remedy; "but," she added with emotion, "after all he has done for us, I do not wish to trouble him."