Newspaper Page Text
6
PEACE.
{Continued from Paqe 3.)
in squeaky, lisping tones, but the Doctor’s
deep bass made everything harmonize.
Afterward the Doctor himself sang, play
ing his own accompaniment—song after
song—and he sang well. Mrs. Caruthers
retired early, Sunbeam’s eyes closed as the
sun went down, and Dr. Caruthers was
away again until the dinner hour at nine.
The program next day was somewhat
different. Breakfast came at nine. Mar
garet had been up for two hours, busy—as
was usual with her—and her heart was sing
ing even when her lips were silent. Af
ter breakfast Margaret read again from
her Bible, by Mrs. Caruthers’ couch, and
then followed a long walk with Sunbeam.
On their return they found “Mummy,” as
Sunbeam called her, waiting at the lunch
eon table in her pretty boudoir, an! they
enlivened the meal with funny incidents
from their walk. Margaret then read,
talked, recited poems, sang some simple
old fashioned airs, and then related in a
piquant way some funny incidents from
her own lite, at which Mrs. Caruthers, for
getting her heartache, indulged in a soft
musical laugh—the first in many months.
While the invalid rested Margaret and
Sunbeam had a review of the dolls, and
many repairs were made to dresses, noses
and heads.
They were busy and happy until tea
time; after tea Margaret rolled Mrs. Ca
ruthers out on the shaded gallery and they
spent an hour in conversation that neither
of them ever forgot in after years, for it
was a sweet talk between two hearts.
Mrs. Caruthers sat quietly for sometime,
seemingly watching the changing tints in
the evening sky, and when she spoke it
was to say:
“Arthur tells me quite plainly that I
brought myself very near to death’s door
last week. I realize now, Margaret, God’s
great mercy in sparing my life.”
There were tears in Margaret’s blue
eyes. “You understand His mercy, but
not His love?” she asked.
“He is a great God, Margaret, and I am
the weakest and the most miserable of all
His creatures. I fear Him, but I can’t
make myself to love Him.”
“Don’t try! Don’t even think of your
love for Him. Think of His great love
for you. If you are weak and miserable
and lost, then you have the more need of
Him, for He is great and merciful. If
merciful, then loving also. ‘Hereby per
ceive we the love of God because He laid
down Hig life for us. Beloved, let us love
one another; for love is of God, and every
one that loveth Is born of God, and know
eth God. He that loveth not, knoweth
not God; for God is love.
‘ln this was manifested the love of God
toward us, because that God sent his only
begotten Son into the world, that we
might live through Him.
‘Herein is love, not that we loved God,
but that He loved us and sent His Son to
be the propitiation for our sins.’
Then, again: 'We love Him, because
He first loved us.’— there is no fear in love,
for perfect love casteth out fear, because
fear has torment. ‘He that feareth is not
made ‘perfect in love.' ”
“I loved my father, my husband, and my
little boy, Margaret, and God took them
from me.”
“God wishes us to love all mankind as
brethren, and yet to love Him most.
When we make an idol of one object He
takes it from us, for ‘He is a jealous God.’
Mrs. Caruthers, may I speak quite plainly
without offending?”
“Yes, dear; what is it?”
“Do you know I think you are quite self
ish?”
“Selfish—how?”
“Heaven, the Bible says, is a place of
peace and beauty far beyond the greatest
conception of the soul of man. Your loved
ones are all there.”
“Yes, oh, yes—my sainted father, my
patient, loving husband, and my innocent
baby are all there.’’
“Their happiness and joys are as far above
this world’s as Heaven is above the Earth.
They know no pain nor sorrow, and yet
you are grieving yourself away because
you cannot bring them back and could not
keep them here. And then, Mrs. Caruth
ers, instead of going to God you want Him
to come to you. blow, He is willing to
help you when you are willing to be helped
in His way; but, instead of putting your
hand In His and letting Him lead and di
rect you, you want to direct your own life.
You have lived entirely for this world and
its pleasures, and God requires that we
live for the next. We want to give up
all of self and live all for Jesus, and the
closer we walk with Him, the less tempta
tion this world has for us.”
Mrs. Caruthers’ eyes were overflowing
with tears. They were not the first she
had shed for her loved ones, but they were
tears of penitence and submission, and
they brought relief to her overburdened
heart.
“What you say is true, Margaret. I’ve
been selfish and blind and self-willed, but
I will be different now if God will help me.
You must help me, too, Margaret, and
never fear to speak plainly. You are
God’s own messenger of light and peace.
Now roll me in, dear, for I would rest.”
And she drew Margaret’s face down and
kissed her good-nignt.
Thus drifted away the rare days of
June, the hot days of July, and a part of
August, but Margaret was so happy and
so busy that she did not heed their flight.
She could not realize that two months had
passed her coming to their house,
when Mrs. Caruthers gave her handsome
remuneration for that length of time.
None of her duties were onerous; indeed,
she thought it all play. She read and
talked and sang to Mrs. Caruthers, and
rolled her about the house and yard when
she was strong enough for it. She romped
and played with Sunbeam, took her for
walks, and gave her lessons in sewing on
her doll wardrobe. She helped Mrs. Cad
dy with the house sewing, made changes
in dresses as suggested by Mrs. Caruthers,
and did several pieces of wonderful em
broidery for that lady of which she was
truly and rightly proud. She lent a help
ing hand and gave a kind word to all the
servants as she found them needing it,
whether cook or maid. “As busy as Miss
Margaret” was a by-word with them.
“She is an angel’’ averred the maid. The
cook turned on her, ladle in hand, “Huh!
she be a leddy, born an’ bred.”
There was no part of selfishness in Mar
garet: every thought and act was for oth
ers, but the others, from master and mis
tress to humblest servant, thought and did
for her and made her little surprises that
caused her heart to best with love and
gratitude.
But we must not think that these happy
days brought no temptations to Margaret;
there were many “little foxes,” and Mar
garet went often to her own room, where,
kneeling down by the big, easy chair, she
prayed for “help from on High”; and that
help kept her the same gentle, unassuming
Margaret Delan that she had been in days
less bright and happy. Mrs. Caruthers
loved her, treated her like a younger sis
ter, and under Margaret’s ministrations
she grew stronger, both physically and
spiritually. Together they planned a
great work to be done for the Master, and
Margaret often carried supplies to the
needy, at the request of her invalid charge.
Mrs. Caruthers introduced her to the
few friends who now came in, and many
wondered at the bond of affection that
bound two persons so dissimilar. In the
course of the evening they would beg of
her the treat of one recitation, and Marga
ret would comply without any affectation,
her timidity showing in a slight flush of the
cheeks and a tremble in her voice, but
soon she would lose herself in her recita
tion and many went away wishing for
that sweet girl’s wonderful talent.
The Rev. Dr. Hildreth, pastor of the
most fashionable church of the city, a very
old and dignified gentleman, was so much
pleased with Margaret’s gentle manners
and direct way of speaking (he learned
much of her from Mrs. Caruthers) that,
when taking leave, he held both her hands
and said: “My dear child, if I had daugh
ters I would want them like you. May
God bless you and keep your gentle heart
ever pure and innocent. May an old man
ask for a daughter’s kiss? ”
Margaret’s face flushed crimson, there
were tears in her eyes, when she kissed
him and then slipped out.
Dr. Caruthers was present; his eyes
flashed, and he walked the room in rapid
strides. The old Doctor turned on him
with, “Ta-ta, boy, you jealous of an old
man’s kiss? Because I got the first one,
perhaps? Well—well—l shall soon expect
another,” and he laughed so long and so
heartily that at last Dr. Arthur had to
join him.
Mrs. Caruthers did not hear of the joke
between the two gentlemen, and Dr. Ar
thur had not realized it before—how much
Margaret was to him. He had been so
very busy that he had not had time to
think of his own affairs. He khew that
merely to feel her presence in the room
was great happiness, and there was some
thing missing when she was away, some
thing that made him restless and unhappy.
He thought it all over, now taking all
points into consideration, and decided that
Margaret must be his wife—that she was
just the little woman for whom he had
been looking and waiting.
It was true she had been quite cool to
him of late, and had seemed to avoid him,
but there was a soft expression in her tell
tale eyes—when he could surprise her into
looking at him—that reassured his san
guine heart.
After many solicitations to go with him
to visit that patient of his, and many re-
WOMAN’S WORK.
fusals from Margaret on the plea of home
duties, he found her one morning without
an excuse. Mrs. Caruthers, being present,
said:
“Yes, go, my dear. I feel really strong
this morning, and Sunbeam and I will
have a long talk.”
Mother and the little daughter had be
come much more to each other. Marga
ret enjoyed the ride, leaning back in the
luxurious buggy and drawn so easily and
rapidly by the lively, spirited*
horse. She had supposed that the Doctor
was taking her to see one of his charity
patients, and was much surprised when he
drew up at the very handsomest residence
in the city.
‘O, Dr. Caruthers!” she gasped. “It
isn’t here you spoke of bringing me?”
“Most assuredly, Margaret, for in that
palace lives the worst poverty that earth
ever knows.”
Margaret was trembling in every nerve,
but her composure returned and a great pity
filled her soul when she saw a troubled coun
tenance above a pillow that was scarcely
whiter than the face, or hair, or long, bony
hands.
“I have brought a little friend to see
you, Mrs. Winters,” said the Doctor, plac- 1
ing his fingers on the sick woman’s pulse.
Two keen grey eyes were raised to Mar
garet’s face, and through those eyes the I
mind read the character like the page of '
a book. But Margaret did not flinch
from the searching look. |
“Well,” said the sick woman querulous- .
iy. ‘
“I came to see you at Dr. Caruthers’ ;
request,” answered Margaret, scarcely
knowing what to say.
“Well, what do you want?’’
“Nothing,” answered Margaret, simply.
“What did you come for? I find that
people who come to me generally have
their own interest in view.”
“I am sorry I came, Madam.”
“Come, speak up, did you never hear of
Mrs. Winters, the millionaire?’’
“No,” answered Margaret so truthfully I
that the woman could not doubt her. “I ,
never heard of her. The truth is, Madam i
I thought the Doctor was taking me to see
one of his charity patients.”
“Charity patient? Well that is rare!
I suppose you are disappointed,” sarcas
tically.
“Yes, I am sorry I came.”
“What?” incredulously.
“I can be of no service to you, Madam.”
“Perhaps I could be of service to you.’’
“No, you cannot,” very positively.
“What! Don’t you recognize the fact
that I could make you an heiress?”
“I have more than you.” ’
“What have you?” in bitterly sarcastic |
tones.
“I have Christ.” The sick woman’s
eyes gleamed, and every nerve in her
worn face twitched with pain and anger.
“How do you know that?” fiercely.
“Because He says: ‘I am in you and
ye in Me.’ ”
“How do you know that is for you?”
“By the peace and joy in my heart.”
The grey eyes moved from Margaret for
the first time, and rested on the Doctor.
They told him plainly—“you never told
me this,” and then they closed. When
she raised them again to Margaret, there
was only a great longing in their tear
dimmed depths.
“Child,” she begged, “I will give you all
I have for that joy and peace.”
“It cannot be bought, or sold. Jesus
says: ‘Ask and ye shall receive,’ and
again, ‘Whosoever will, let him take of the
water of life freely.’ ”
“Ask for me, child,” she whispered.
Margaret knelt at once by the couch,
laid her face in one of the thin hands, and
prayed an earnest yet simple prayer for
the birth of this sinner into new life and
love, to which Dr. Caruthers gave a heart
spoken “Amen.”
The poor woman was crying softly. Dr.
Caruthers gave her a soothing portion and
then withdrew. Margaret whispered a
few words in her ear, kissed her on the
forehead, and followed the Doctor out.
“Margaret, I have talked with that wo
man every day since she has been stricken,
and she would hem me off with sarcastic
raillery every time. Your gentle assur
ance broke down her wall ot stoicism at
once.”
“It was God’s mercy. Give Him the
glory,” murmured Margaret. She was
thinking deeply on her own words. Had
she been a Jonah to say she was sorry she
had come? An earnest prayer went up from
her heart: “Lead me wheresoever Thou
wilt, but be Thou my support and com
fort.’’
The next day Margaret went again to
Mrs. Winters’, taking her own precious
Bible with her. Dr. Arthur held to his
point of taking her again in his buggy al
most in spite of herself He left her again
at the door, and in the course of an hour
called in to see the patient. Mrs. Winters
Addressed him in the old, abrupt way;
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