Niece Catherine Part 15

'If He did, it would only be in His mercy, in order to expose you to the influence without which you will not seek the only lasting happiness.'

Mrs. Arderne sighed.

'I _will_ turn over a new leaf; you shall help me, dear. I have been very much worried of late, because my husband wants me to rejoin him soon in India, and I don't want to go out there. My babes must stay in England. I will not have their health injured, perhaps permanently, by my selfish longing to keep them with me; and how can I bear to part from the darlings?'

There was a tremor in the mother's voice.

Catherine clasped the little woman in her arms, and laid her cheek against her face.

'Oh, you might have told me sooner of your anxiety! Would it not have been easier to bear, if you had told some one, even me, who would have sympathised?'

'I knew you would say I must go. It _is_ my duty, I admit. Henry has let me have a long holiday trip--first to Australia, now to England. I have seen all my friends and relatives, and recovered my own health. With the exception that it is terribly hard to leave my children, there is not the slightest excuse for me to stay here.'

'Is the climate _really_ so bad?'

'For children, yes. They shall not grow up sickly because their mother thought more of her own happiness than of their welfare.'

'And you expressed a wonder, only a few minutes ago, that any one could desire faith which might entail self-sacrifice! Oh, you dear, brave little mother, even while you are lonely for want of your babies, will you not be proud and glad because you have loved them better than yourself? That is the way in which gladness comes from loving G.o.d. And it is He alone who can comfort you, to whom you can pray for Ted and Toddie; to whose loving care you can confide them, knowing that He can guard them better even than your love could do, were you always close beside them!'

Mrs. Arderne laid her hand on her companion's shoulder, and indulged in a hearty cry.

'Oh, Cath!' she said at last, 'I _must_ learn to love G.o.d now, for I shall be so lonely in India, and I must feel that I can do something for the babies when I am far away from them. He won't be angry and refuse to listen to me, will He, because so long as I was quite happy I did not serve Him?'

'The labourer who came at the eleventh hour into the vineyard received the same pay as those who had borne the heat and labour of the whole day. For G.o.d sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved.'

After another silence Mrs. Arderne said:

'When I go, you will take charge of Ted and Toddie? Promise me that, Catherine. Whether you live in Redan Cottage, or in your husband's home, you can give a shelter to my babes. There need be no difficulty about money, for I can make a liberal allowance for their comfort, and to do _something_ towards recompensing your care of them. This idea only occurred to me the other day, after I received Henry's letter asking me to come back soon to him, and then I felt I could have hugged you for refusing to be adopted by your Uncle Ross!'

'He did not want to adopt me, dear. I should have had a home of my own.

Still, perhaps he would not have liked me to bring Ted and Toddie on constant visits to Carm Hall; and if I have charge of them, I will never be parted from them.'

'If? Tell me you _will_, Catherine. I can only be happy about them if I leave them in your care.'

'I promise I will have them, if Uncle Jack does not refuse, and he is not likely to do that.'

'You do not speak of Brian's opinion.'

'There is no need. Brian will be glad for me to do anything in the world that I can do to ease your anxiety. Besides, are you not making me a most helpful offer? You are going to keep on your companion, letting her live at home. She would be altogether delighted, were it not that she will be parted from you!'

'You must write to me, Cath, very, _very_ often; and you won't let the babes forget me, will you? Oh, but I know you will not! Your salary must be doubled, so that you are no expense to Uncle Jack, and we will decide on a sum to pay for the board of Ted and Toddie. Dear child, it is a comfort to me to feel that you will benefit by my misfortune. You'll be able to save money, to help your lover, and in a few years Henry will bring me back to England.'

After a little more discussion of this plan, Mrs. Arderne sent Catherine to take the news to Redan Cottage.

CHAPTER XI

Confidences and an Attempt

Only Agatha was at home this evening, and her joy may be imagined.

'Oh, _Catherine_; you will come to live here, with those two dear children? We shall have you, just as we planned to do! and you are _glad_ to come!'

A short while ago the little girl would have said, '_I_ shall have you,'

and would not have troubled to question whether or not the arrangement would bring joy to others; but the influence of Catherine's teaching was working within this heart.

'Glad?--yes indeed, dearie!'

'And you will talk to me every day about G.o.d, until He seems real and near? Then I shall not be so dreadfully afraid of dying.'

The colonel returned to the house early in the evening, to be greeted by the radiant smiles of his niece and ward. The former rose from her low seat by Agatha's couch, and advanced to meet him with her hands outstretched, and cried,--

'I want to come "home" to stay, dear uncle. Will you have me?'

It was sweet for her to see the joyous light that broke over his face as he listened to her explanations, for she learned to understand more and more how much he had wanted her. His earnest words of welcome were not necessary, though they also were sweet to Catherine. Later, when he was walking back to Woodley Villa with her, she learned a fact which robbed her prospects of some of their joyousness, but which made her trebly thankful that she was to live 'at home' for the future.

They had reached the gate of Mrs. Arderne's house, when Uncle Jack laid his hand detainingly on his niece's arm, and said,--

'La.s.sie, you know that my pension is a very small one, and that it will die with me?'

'Yes?'

'When Agatha comes of age, if she lives, she will come into a tiny fortune; but meanwhile, the sum that was allowed me for her maintenance is barely sufficient.'

'Are you afraid that I shall prove an extravagant housekeeper?'

'No, dear,--no. But if I were to die,--what would become of Agatha?'

'Could I take care of her,--I mean, would she suffer if I had to provide for her altogether out of that sum which you say is barely sufficient?'

'You could do it, la.s.sie, but she would be a great tie.'

'I will never desert her while she needs me. Even if Brian would not let me have her with me, and you know that is an unnecessary supposition, I could make arrangements for her to board and lodge somewhere quite near, so that I could be often with her. You meant, did you not, that you could not bear to think of her being left lonely, and obliged to think and manage for herself? I would prevent that.'

Uncle Jack smiled, and squeezed the arm he was holding.

'G.o.d bless you, dearest,--you have taken a load of anxiety off my mind!

Yes, that _was_ all I meant. I couldn't endure the thought that my poor Agatha might be utterly alone. Probably my brother would offer her a home,--but I could not count upon that.'

'But you--you are not going to die soon. I mean you--you are not ill?'

'For a year past I have had need to be careful of myself. My heart is in a wrong condition, so the doctor tells me. In fact, la.s.sie, his warnings simply amount to this, which we all believe of ourselves,--that I might die any moment, if G.o.d so pleased.'

For a while Catherine was speechless. Then she realised the truth which the colonel's words had suggested--threatened his life might be, but it could not end until the Creator had ordained that he should die.