St. Elmo Part 38

"Huldah, how is your father to-day?"

"Not as well as he was yesterday; but he is asleep now, and will be better when he wakes."

"Has the doctor been here to-day?"

"No, he has not been here since Sunday."

Edna stood for a while watching the labored breathing of the sleeper, and, putting her hand on Huldah's head, she whispered:

"Do you want me to read to you this evening? It is late, but I shall have time for a short chapter."

"Oh! please do, if it is only a few lines. It will not wake him."

The child rose, spread out her hands, and groped her way across the room to a small table, whence she took an old Bible.

The two sat down together by the western window, and Edna asked:

"Is there any particular chapter you would like to hear?"

"Please read about blind Bartimeus sitting by the roadside, waiting for Jesus."

Edna turned to the verses and read in a subdued tone for some moments. In her eager interest Huldah slid down on her knees, rested her thin hands on her companion's lap and raised her sweet face, with its wide, vacant, sad, hazel eyes.

When Edna read the twenty-fourth verse of the next chapter, the small hands were laid upon the page to arrest her attention.

"Edna, do you believe that? 'What things soever you desire, when ye pray believe that ye receive them, AND YE SHALL HAVE THEM!' Jesus said that: and if I pray that my eyes may be opened, do you believe I shall see? They tell me that--that pa will not live. Oh! do you think if I pray day and night, and if I believe, and oh! I do believe, I will believe! do you think Jesus will let me see him--my father--before he dies? If I could only see his dear face once, I would be willing to be blind afterward. All my life I have felt his face, and I knew it by my fingers; but oh! I can't feel it in the grave! I have been praying so hard ever since the doctor said he must die; praying that Jesus would have mercy on me, and let me see him just once. Last night I dreamed Christ came and put his hands on my eyes, and said to me, too, 'Thy faith hath made thee whole'; and I waked up crying, and my own fingers were pulling my eyes open; but it was all dark, dark. Edna, won't you help me pray! And do you believe I shall see him?"

Edna took the quivering face in her soft palms, and tenderly kissed the lips several times.

"My dear Huldah, you know the days of miracles are over, and Jesus is not walking in the world now to cure the suffering and the blind and the dumb."

"But he is sitting close to the throne of G.o.d, and he could send some angel down to touch my eyes, and let me see my dear, dear pa once--ah! just once. Oh! he is the same Jesus now as when he felt sorry for Bartimeus. And why won't He pity me, too? I pray and believe, and that is what He said I must do."

"I think that the promise relates to spiritual things, and means that when we pray for strength to resist temptation and sin, Jesus sends the Holy Spirit to a.s.sist all who earnestly strive to do their duty. But, dear Huldah, one thing is very certain, even if you are blind in this world, there will come a day when G.o.d will open your eyes, and you shall see those you love, face to face; 'for there shall be no night there' in that city of rest--no need of sun or moon, for 'the Lamb is the light thereof.'"

"Huldah--daughter!"

The child glided swiftly to the cot, and, looking round, Edna doubted the evidence of her senses; for by the side of the sufferer stood a figure so like Mr. Murray that her heart began to throb painfully.

The corner of the room was dim and shadowy, but a strong, deep voice soon dispelled all doubt.

"I hope you are better to-day, Reed. Here are some grapes which will refresh you, and you can eat them as freely as your appet.i.te prompts."

Mr. Murray placed a luscious cl.u.s.ter in the emaciated hands, and put the basket down on the floor near the cot. As he drew a chair from the wall and seated himself, Edna crossed the room stealthily, and, laying her hand on Huldah's shoulder, led her out to the front steps.

"Huldah, has Mr. Murray ever been here before?"

"Oh! yes--often and often; but he generally comes later than this.

He brings all the wine poor pa drinks, and very often peaches and grapes. Oh! he is so good to us. I love to hear him come up the steps; and many a time, when pa is asleep, I sit here at night, listening for the gallop of Mr. Murray's horse. Somehow I feel so safe, as if nothing could go wrong, when he is in the house."

"Why did you never tell me this before? Why have you not spoken of him?"

"Because he charged me not to speak to any one about it--said he did not choose to have it known that he ever came here. There! pa is calling me. Won't you come in and speak to him?"

"Not this evening. Good-bye. I will come again soon."

Edna stooped, kissed the child hastily, and walked away.

She had only reached the gate, where Tamerlane was fastened, when Mr. Murray came out of the house.

"Edna!"

Reluctantly she stopped and waited for him.

"Are you not afraid to walk home alone?"

"No, sir; I am out frequently even later than this."

"It is not exactly prudent for you to go home now alone; for it will be quite dark before you can possibly reach the park gate."

He pa.s.sed his horse's reins over his arm, and led him along the road.

"I am not going that way, sir. There is a path through the woods that is much shorter than the road and I can get through an opening in the orchard fence. Good evening."

She turned abruptly from the beaten road, but he caught her dress and detained her.

"I told you some time ago that I never permitted espionage in my affairs; and now with reference to what occurred at the greenhouse, I advise you to keep silent. Do you understand me?"

"In the first place, sir, I could not condescend to play spy on the actions of any one; and in the second, you may rest a.s.sured I shall not trouble myself to comment upon your affairs, in which I certainly have no interest. Your estimate of me must be contemptible indeed, if you imagine that I can only employ myself in watching your career. Dismiss your apprehensions, and rest in the a.s.surance that I consider it no business of mine where you go or what you may choose to do."

"My only desire is to s.h.i.+eld my pretty Gertrude's head from the wrath that may be bottled up for her."

Edna looked up fixedly into the deep, glittering eyes that watched hers, and answered quietly:

"Mr. Murray, if you love her half as well as I do, you will be more careful in the future not to subject her to the opening of the vials of wrath."

He laughed contemptuously, and exclaimed:

"You are doubtless experienced in such matters, and fully competent to advise me."

"No, sir; it does not concern me, and I presume neither to criticise nor to advise. Please be so good as to detain me no longer, and believe me when I repeat that I have no intention whatever of meddling with any of your affairs, or reporting your actions."

Putting his hands suddenly on her shoulders, he stooped, looked keenly at her, and she heard him mutter an oath. When he spoke again it was through set teeth:

"You will be wise if you adhere to that decision. Tell them at home not to wait supper for me."

He sprang into his saddle and rode toward the village; and Edna hurried homeward, asking herself: