When I returned, and was about to close the door, Caroline said "no one will disturb us, and the room is very warm."
With my hand in hers, and my face on her pillow, I for the first time addressed my Heavenly Father in presence of a fellow creature. But I was not embarra.s.sed. He who looks from above, put words in my mouth and was near me.
As I arose and stood by the bed, I was startled by the moving of a shadow; and turning quickly to the door I saw my husband standing on the steps with his face buried in his handkerchief.
Pa.s.sing through this part of the town to visit a patient, he had stopped this morning instead of returning here this afternoon. I do not think he heard me; and if he did, I ought not to feel ashamed, when I dared speak in the presence of the High and Holy One. But I must confess it. I felt for the first time in my life sorry to see him.
"How came you here?" he asked in surprise.
"You forgot you gave me permission to ride out."
"And Caesar, where is he?"
"There," said I, pointing to the carriage, which was just stopping at the gate. "You must not talk much with her," I said smiling. "But you may talk a little _to_ her if she will be very quiet. I fear she has already had too much company." Promising to visit her again as soon as possible, I went with Frank to the carriage, when he returned to his patient. I found Pauline struggling hard to keep her eyes open, and on consulting my watch, concluded to postpone my call upon Mr. Lewis until another day. So I merely left the flowers in pa.s.sing, saying to his wife that I would endeavor to make him an early call.
"He has been lotting upon seeing you, maam. He says of the two, you better understand his feelings, seeing you"ve had the same." We hastened home, where the sleepy girl was glad to drink some milk and go to bed.
And now, dear mother, with remembrances of affection to the dear home-circle, I close this part of my journal, which I hope will interest you. I intend writing to Bell and Nelly in answer to theirs just received.
_Thursday, June 18th._
I gladly resume my journal; I feel lost without my writing. Emily appears really better. Of course she knows nothing of Mr. Benson"s intended departure. I have not been able to learn when he sails. He only says in his note, "as soon as his arrangements can be made." Emily seems indifferent to every thing; and, when mother and I talk cheerfully, turns her face away. But I have seen the tears trickle through her fingers when she thought herself unnoticed. To-day, however, she is brighter, and though not by any means as she once was, she appears to have made her mind up to some course; and to feel better for her decision. But this is mere suspicion. Time will show whether I am correct. This afternoon she sat up in the easy chair more than an hour, and amused herself with Pauline, who looked at her very seriously at first, as if she did not quite understand all these changes.
Early this morning, I begged a ride with Frank as far as Mr. Lewis"s, and told him my intention was to walk back. To the latter part of my proposition, he very unwillingly consented, as it is half a mile, and the heat is great. But with my parasol I thought I might venture.
Mrs. Lewis came into the little entry to receive me, and told me in a low tone, her husband was failing fast, and she thought, could not live many days. "He will be right pleased to see you. He has set his heart upon it." I then followed her up-stairs to the room. He is now wholly confined to the bed.
Every article of furniture, I observed, was scrupulously neat; and something in the appearance and conversation of the family reminded me forcibly of the household of the Dairyman, as described in Legh Richmond"s well known tract ent.i.tled "The Dairyman"s Daughter." There was an air of respectability, which is often felt, but which cannot easily be described.
Mr. Lewis was sitting bolstered up in bed. He could not breathe when lying down; and could only speak in a broken whisper, with long intervals between his words. Sitting with him was a married sister, who had followed him to this country, and who had now come to remain with him until after the closing scene.
I took my seat near the bed, and begged Mrs. Lewis to allow me to pa.s.s him the cordial with which he was constantly obliged to wet his lips.
With a courtesy she thanked me and resumed her sewing, while I addressed a few words to the poor sufferer.
"I am afraid you are too sick to hear me talk, you seem very ill this morning."
"All--peace--here," he whispered, laying his emaciated hand upon his breast.
I expressed very great pleasure that G.o.d had heard his prayer, and asked whether he felt any of the fears with which he was troubled at my last visit.
He shook his head; and when I held the cup to his mouth said, "I--can--trust--him. He--will--do--right."
This, then, was the source of his peace. My eyes filled with tears as I quoted the pa.s.sage of Scripture which came into my mind. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose soul is staid on Thee." I noticed that he looked exceedingly faint, and motioned to his wife, who immediately held some camphor to his nostrils, saying as she did so, that he could take no nourishment.
When he revived, I thought I had better retire; but he looked wistfully first at me, then at his wife, who caught his meaning and said, "He would like to have you read and pray with him as the Doctor does."
I made no reply. What could I say? She arose and gave me an old, well-preserved family Bible; and turning to the fourth of Hebrews, I was just commencing to read about "the rest that remaineth to the people of G.o.d," when a gentle knock at the outer door called Mrs. Lewis from the room. I went on, however, in compliance with a wistful look from the invalid, and read through the chapter, having in the mean time come to the conclusion, that if the sister would leave the room, I would try to comply with the dying man"s request. Just as I closed the book, she stepped softly behind me, and desired me to go below for a moment.
Explaining this in a word to Mr. Lewis, I complied with her wish.
Entering the lower room, I found Mr. Munroe, who had been requested by the Doctor to call. I was much interested in the account given by Mrs.
Lewis to her pastor; and which she narrated in language above her station. I have often noticed that persons in humble life when speaking upon religious topics, are elevated by their theme, and by their familiarity with the language of scripture.
Mr. Lewis was born of pious parents who early dedicated him to G.o.d, and sought prayerfully to educate him in the fear of his Maker. He had lived a perfectly moral and peaceful life, having been able to support his family at least in comfort, until laid low by disease. When he was unable longer to work, they had moved to Crawford, as a place where his wife could find employment for her needle.
They had three children, the girl and boy I mentioned, and one between the ages of these two, who was at school. Mrs. Lewis felt that her husband was a Christian, and had been, for many years. But he was of an eminently timid spirit, distrustful of himself, and as he could not tell the exact time of his conversion, not having been exercised in mind like his wife, and many others whose experience he had heard or read, he had been unwilling to make a public profession of religion. He had, however, been in the daily habit of secret prayer, and of reading the scriptures; had taught his children faithfully, not only the practical duties of religion, but had endeavored to instil into their young minds the sacred doctrines of the gospel, as he had been taught them by his parents.
During the visit of the Doctor on Tuesday, the patient had given evidence of a saving change; and he had urged the sick man to give glory to G.o.d, and to hope in his mercy. This view of his case led the poor man to a train of reflection, which ended in the calm but complete trust he put in his Heavenly Father.
He had none of the rapture with which Caroline was sometimes borne as on angel wings, to heaven; but there were reasons to hope he was as truly a monument of grace. At the Doctor"s last call, he had humbly but earnestly expressed a desire to unite himself to the people of G.o.d, and to taste, at least, once on earth, of that feast of which our risen Lord has said, "Do this in remembrance of me."
The Doctor had requested our pastor to call and converse with him upon this subject. I expressed my fear that the invalid was too much fatigued; but Mr. Munroe said he should be very brief.
I waited below for about ten minutes, when Mrs. Lewis invited me to go up and join them in prayer. The regular season for the administration of the ordinance here will be the first Sabbath in July, but as Mr. Lewis will not probably live so long, it was concluded to have the service privately administered to him next Sabbath afternoon. Mrs. Lewis invited me to be present with the Doctor, which I promised to do, and left accompanied by Mr. Munroe, whose house lay in the same direction.
Mrs. Munroe has been absent ever since my arrival in Crawford, on a visit to her father"s. I told her husband, I antic.i.p.ated much pleasure in her acquaintance.
He says, he is under great obligation to the Doctor, for informing him of such cases as the one we had just witnessed. He is still so much of a stranger in the place, he has not found out who are the members of his parish. He enlarged particularly upon the great aid it was to a clergyman, as well as upon the great advantage it was to the town, to have a pious physician. He said it was often the case when physicians were otherwise, that they were unwilling to have a pastor visit their patients, vainly imagining that they might frighten and injure them.
Here he said, he everywhere met with evidence of the Doctor"s faithfulness to the souls as well as to the bodies of those to whom he was called.
This exactly accords with my own observation. I thank G.o.d that he has made my dear Frank an instrument of good.
As we were approaching Mr. Munroe"s house, he said, "I have been much surprised to hear that our neighbor Mr. Benson intends to leave his people, and to go to Europe. He said nothing to me upon the subject," he added, "when I met him on Sabbath morning. I should have supposed that he would have wished to spend the last Sabbath among his own people.
There is some mystery about it."
I made no reply; and after a pause, he inquired "Is he out of health?"
"He certainly appeared so the day he preached," I replied. I did my best to appear unembarra.s.sed, but cannot say that I entirely succeeded. He looked intently at me for a moment, but said no more.
When I left him, he added, he should not be surprised if Mr. Lewis did not live until the Sabbath, but he thought him prepared to die.
CHAPTER VII.
"Give him not all his desire, so shalt thou strengthen him in hope; Neither stop with indulgence the fountain of his tears, so shall he fear thy firmness.
Above all things, graft on him subjection, yea in the veriest trifle." TUPPER.
_Friday Evening, June 19th._
Emily continues convalescent, and her eye begins to have its former l.u.s.tre. She has sat in the chair nearly all the afternoon, while mother and I were sewing and Pauline played with her toys upon the floor. I am more than ever convinced that Emily"s sickness is connected with her mental trouble.
I am likely to have full employment for my needle. Little girls need so many changes, and Miss Pauline had none, on her arrival, however large her wardrobe may have originally been. Mother wishes to a.s.sist me; but I declined her kind offer.
Poor little Pauline! she had a hard time this morning, and so did her mamma. We had quite a controversy; but I will explain. Caesar was going to market in the village; and I told him if he would take the carriage, I would ride with him, as I wished to make a few purchases.
It is very warm; and I did not think it best for Pauline to accompany me, as she had generally done of late. She thought this very hard, and began to cry. I stepped back, and said, "Aunty sick; Pauline mustn"t cry," when she fairly screamed, and showed a very naughty temper. I saw there was to be a contest; and I told Caesar not to wait. "I must postpone my ride until another time." Then taking her in my arms I carried her to a room the farthest removed from Emily"s, and laying off my bonnet, attempted to take her into my lap.