She sent down word that she was ill, and that she would not come down.
Laura, Mrs. Allen, and even Zell, came to her, but she kissed them wearily, and sent them away. She saw that there was deep anxiety on all their faces. Pretty soon Hannibal came up with a cup of coffee.
"You must drink it, Miss Edie," he said, ""cause we"se all a-leanin"
on you."
Well-meaning words, but tending unconsciously to confirm her desperate purpose to sacrifice herself for them.
She lay with her face buried in the pillow all day. She knew that their money was almost gone, that provisions were scanty in the house, and to her morbid mind bags of gold were piled up before her, and Simon Crowl, as an ugly spectre, was beckoning her toward them.
As she lay in a dull lethargy of pain in the afternoon, a heavy jar of thunder aroused her. She sprang up instantly, and ran out bare-headed to the little rise of ground behind the house, and there, in the west, was a great black cloud. The darker and nearer it grew, the more her face brightened. It was a strange thing to see that fair young girl looking toward the threatening storm with eager, glad expectancy, as if it were her lover. The heavy and continued roll of the thunder, like the approaching roar of battle, was sweeter to her than love"s whispers. She saw with dilating eyes the trees on the distant mountain"s brow toss and writhe in the tempest; she heard the fall of rain-drops on the foliage of the mountain"s side as if they were the feet of an army coming to her rescue. A few large ones, mingled with hail, fell around her like scattering shots, and she put out her hands to catch them. The fierce gusts caught up her loosened hair and it streamed away behind her. There was a blinding flash, and the branches of a tall locust near came quivering down--she only smiled.
But dismay and trembling fear overwhelmed her as the shower pa.s.sed on to the north. She could see it raining hard a mile away, but the drops ceased to fall around her. The deep reverberations rolled away in the distance, and in the west there was a long line of light. As the twilight deepened, the whole storm was below the horizon, only sending up angry flashes as it thundered on to parts unknown. With clasped hands and despairing eyes, Edith gazed after it, as the wrecked floating on a raft might watch a ship sail away, and leave them to perish on the wide ocean.
She walked slowly down to the little arbor, and leaned wearily back on the rustic seat. She saw night come on in breathless peace. Not a leaf stirred. She saw the moon rise over the eastern hills, as brightly and serenely as if its rays would not fall on one sad face.
Hannibal called, but she did not answer, Then he came out to her, and put the cup of tea to her lips, and made her drink it. She obeyed mechanically.
"Poor chile, poor chile," he murmured, "I wish ole Hannibal could die for you."
She lifted her face to him with such an expression that he hastened away to hide his tears. But she sat still, as if in a dream, and yet she felt that the crisis had come, and that before she left that place she must come to some decision. Reason would be dethroned if she lived much longer in such suspense and irresolution. And yet she sat still in a dreamy stupor, the reaction of her strong excitement. It seemed, in a certain sense, peaceful and painless, and she did not wish to goad herself out of it.
"It may be like the last sleep before execution," she thought, "therefore make the most of it," and her thoughts wandered at will.
A late robin came flying home to the arbor where the nest was, and having twittered out a little vesper-song, put its head under its wing, near his mate, which sat brooding in the nest over some little eggs, and the thought stole into her heart, "Will G.o.d take care of them and not me?" and she watched the peaceful sleep of the family over her head as if it were an emblem of faith.
Then a sudden breeze swept a spray of roses against her face, and their delicate perfume was like the "still small voice" of love, and the thought pa.s.sed dreamily across Edith"s mind, "Will G.o.d do so much for that little cl.u.s.ter of roses and yet do nothing for me?"
How near the Father was to His child! In this calm that followed her long pa.s.sionate struggle, His mighty but gentle Spirit could make itself felt, and it stole into the poor girl"s bruised heart with heavenly suggestion and healing power. The happy days when she followed Jesus and sat daily at His feet were recalled. Her sin was shown to her, not in anger, but in the loving reproachfulness of the Saviour"s look upon faithless Peter, and a voice seemed to ask in her soul, "How could you turn away your trust from Him to anything else?
How could you think it right to do so great a wrong? How could you so trample upon the womanly nature that He gave you as to think of marrying where neither love nor G.o.d would sanction?"
Jesus seemed to stand before her, and point up to the robins, saying, "I feed them. I fed the five thousand. I feed the world. I can feed you and yours. Trust me. Do right. In trying to save yourself you will destroy yourself."
With a divine impulse, she threw herself on the floor of the arbor, and cried:
"Jesus, I cast myself at Thy feet. I throw myself on Thy mercy. When I look the world around, away from Thee, I see only fear and torment. If I die, I will perish at Thy feet."
Was it the moonlight only that made the night luminous? No, for the glory of the Lord shone around, and the peace that "pa.s.seth all understanding" came flowing into her soul like a shining river. The ugly phantoms that had haunted her vanished. The "black hand that seemed pushing her down," became her Father"s hand, shielding and sustaining.
She rose as calm and serene as the summer evening and went straight to Mrs. Allen"s room and said: "Mother, I will never marry Simon Crowl."
Her mother began to cry, and say piteously:
"Then we shall all be turned into the street."
"What the future will be I can"t tell," said Edith, gently but firmly.
"I will work for you, I will beg for you, I will starve with you, but I will never marry Simon Crowl, nor any other man that I do not love."
And pressing a kiss on her mother"s face, she went to her room, and soon was lost in the first refreshing sleep that she had had for a long time.
She was wakened toward morning by the sound of rain, and, starting up, heard its steady, copious downfall. In a sudden ecstasy of grat.i.tude she sprang up, opened the blinds and looked out. The moon had gone down, and through the darkness the rain was falling heavily; she felt it upon her forehead, her bare neck and arms, and it seemed to her Heaven"s own baptism into a new and stronger faith and a happier life.
CHAPTER x.x.xV
CLOSING SCENES
The clouds were clearing away when Edith came down late the next morning, and all saw that the clouds had pa.s.sed from her brow.
"Bress de Lord, Miss Edie, you"se yoursef again!" said Hannibal, joyfully. "I neber see a shower do such a heap ob good afore."
"No," said Edith, sadly; "I was myself. I lost my Divine Friend and Helper, and I then became myself--poor, weak, faulty Edith Allen. But, thanks to His mercy, I have found Him again, and so hope to be the better self that He helped me to be before."
Zell looked at her with a sudden wonder, and went out and stayed among her flowers all day.
Laura came and put her arms around her neck, and said,
"Oh, Edie, I am so glad! What you said set me to fearing and doubting; but I am sure we can trust Him."
Mrs. Allen sighed drearily, and said, "I don"t understand it at all."
But old Hannibal slapped his hands in true Methodist style, exclaiming, "Dat"s it! Trow away de ole heart! Get a new one! Bress de Lord!"
Edith went out into the garden, and saw that there were a great many berries ripe; then she hastened to the hotel, and said:
"Oh, Mrs. Groody, for Heaven"s sake, won"t you help me sell my strawberries up here?"
"Yes, my dear," was the hearty response; "both for your sake and the strawberries, too. We get them from the city, and would much rather have fresh country ones."
Edith returned with her heart thrilling with hope, and set to work picking as if every berry was a ruby, and in a few hours she had six quarts of fragrant fruit. Malcom had lent her little baskets, and Hannibal took them up to the hotel, for Arden would not even look toward the little cottage any more. The old servant came back grinning with delight, and gave Edith a dollar and a half.
The next day ten quarts brought two dollars and a half. Then they began to ripen rapidly, the rain having greatly improved them, and Edith, with considerable help from the others, picked twenty, thirty, and fifty quarts a day. She employed a stout boy from the village, to help her, and, through him, she soon had quite a village trade also.
He had a percentage on the sales, and, therefore, was very sharp in disposing of them.
How Edith gloated over her money! how, with more than miserly eyes, she counted it over every night, and pressed it to her lips!
In the complete absorption of the past few weeks Edith had not noticed the change going on in Zell. The poor creature was surprised and greatly pleased that the flowers grew so well for her. Every opening blossom was a new revelation, and their sweet perfume stole into her wounded heart like balm. The blue violets seemed like children"s eyes peeping timidly at her; and the pansies looked so bright and saucy that she caught herself smiling back at them. The little black and brown seeds she planted came up so promptly that it seemed as if they wanted to see her as much as she did them.
"Isn"t it queer," she said one day to herself, "that such pretty things can come out of such ugly little things." Nothing in nature seemed to turn away from her, any more than would nature"s G.o.d. The dumb life around began to speak to her in many and varied voices, and she who fled from companionship with her own kind would sit and chirp and talk to the birds, as if they understood her. And they did seem to grow strangely familiar, and would almost eat crumbs out of her hand.
One day in June she said to Hannibal, who was working near, "Isn"t it strange the flowers grow so well for me?"
"Why shouldn"t dey grow for you, Miss Zell?" asked he, straightening his old back up.
"Good, innocent Hannibal, how indeed should you know anything about it?"
"Yes, I does know all "bout it," said he, earnestly, and he came to her where she stood by a rosebush. "Does you see dis white rose?"