Medoline Selwyn's Work Part 42

"I wish your father would pray that I might have the opportunity to come.

The difficulties in the way just now seem insuperable, but with G.o.d's help they could be removed."

"Yes, indeed. I've knowed folks that was a hurt to Christians took out of the world uncommon sudden," Mrs. Blake remarked, with a very meaning nod of her head.

"I do not want Mr. Winthrop to die," I said, with quick alarm. "If I had to choose, I think I would rather die myself."

"I didn't know you liked him that well. I reckoned he was hard to please."

"I acknowledge that he is; but then a word of praise from him is worth a great deal," I frankly replied.

"I believe you are in the way to win his approval. A pure, unselfish life must gain the respect of every honest soul, soon or late," Mrs. Lark.u.m said, with gentle a.s.surance.

There was no more said on the subject. But the thought that Mr. Bowen was praying for me made me feel more confident that everything would turn out best for me, and for those also in whom I was most interested.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE ENCOUNTER AT ST. MARK'S.

I did not forget through the week Mrs. Le Grande's eagerness for Mr.

Winthrop to attend church, and although not permitting myself, if possible, to impute false motives to others, I concluded it was not anxiety for his spiritual well-being that prompted the desire on her part. However I resolved to ask him, and was very anxious that he should grant my request. The day dawned bright and clear, one of those hopeful days with promise of the coming summer in the clear s.h.i.+ning of the February sun. At breakfast Mr. Winthrop spoke of the rare loveliness of the morning; the blue of the sky, soft and tender as a mother's eye, with here and there a fleecy cloud such as painters love to put on their canvas. Away to the south, the sea was dimpling and sparkling in ten thousand broken ripples, with here and there a brave vessel sailing away over the cold, heaving waters.

Mr. Winthrop seemed in more genial mood than he had been for a week; and when he left the table I followed him to the door, where he stood gazing with eyes trained to take in intelligently the charming scene. I stood silent, entering in a very half-hearted manner into his keen enjoyment of the picture painted by G.o.d's own hand, spread out before us.

"It is no use for a man to attempt copying that living, throbbing scene, nor yet to describe it," he said, with an air of dissatisfaction.

"To copy would be easy, compared with creating it," I suggested timidly.

"Yes; but when, and by whom done? That is the question that maddens one,"

he answered after a long pause.

"The Bible says the same hand that was nailed to the cross on Calvary created it. 'By whom also the worlds were made,'" I murmured.

"Ah, if we only had some evidence of that; but it is all dark, dark, on the other side of death, and on the other side of life too. Whence came we--whither do we tend? What power sent Sirius and all that galaxy of suns marching serenely through s.p.a.ce? We, in our little planet-s.h.i.+p, falling into line, going like comets one day, and then vanis.h.i.+ng; but the worlds moving on unconscious of our departure, and yet some power controls them and us. Medoline, to have my faith anch.o.r.ed as yours is, to a beneficent, all-powerful G.o.d, I would be willing to die this instant if I might be absorbed into Him, or be taken into his presence forever. You who can calmly accept your religion as you do the atmosphere you inhale, should live as far above earthly pa.s.sions and entanglements, as those light clouds hanging in yonder vault are above the earth; nay, rather like the stars which only touch us by that law of the universe that holds the remotest stars together."

"Have you tried any more earnestly to find the G.o.d of the Bible than you have done Boodh or Vishnu, or other man-created deities?" I asked.

He turned to me in his keen, incisive way:--"No, Medoline, I cannot say that I have--not since boyhood, at least, when my mother, who loved the G.o.d whom Israel served so indifferently, endeavored to train my rebellious will to His service."

"You have lived all these years G.o.dless?"

"In plain English, yes."

"Then that great star, Sirius, you just spoke of, and all the other suns, and their systems, as well as the humblest created things, have fulfilled the purposes of their Maker's will, save the last supreme effort of His power--man, originally made a 'little lower than G.o.d.' I wonder that I honor you as I do, when you deny the existence of my G.o.d and Saviour."

He looked down at me with a gentleness at which I was surprised, and his next question did not lessen this.

"Would you be terrified if death, in some form, were suddenly to seize you, dismissing you from your present environments into the unclothed state, could you trust, to the uttermost, this mighty Being whose friends.h.i.+p you so confidently claim?"

I paused before replying. Certainly death just then did not seem welcome.

I loved life and enjoyed it, and longed for its fuller experiences. As I studied his question, there came a fear that, since I clung with such desire to life, I could not be fitted for higher places. No doubt he saw the pained, uncertain look on my face, which his question had caused.

"If G.o.d wished for me to leave this world," I said, slowly, "no doubt he would give me the necessary grace and fort.i.tude to do so patiently; but I do not want to die now, unless it is His will. I love my life, and would like to serve my generation for a good many years. There are such grand opportunities to be useful to others."

"That is a more healthy type of piety than I would have given you credit for. I am glad you are not anxious to leave us. The Superior powers are apt to humor such fancies in the young, and remove them from this distasteful world."

I saw that a lighter mood was taking the place of his more serious one of a few minutes before, and I hastened to make my request. "Won't you come to church with me this bright morning, Mr. Winthrop?"

He looked at me with that clear, honest gaze that always seemed to penetrate my deepest thoughts.

"Why do you make that request? You have never asked me before."

A guilty blush crimsoned my face, and I murmured something about wanting him to go particularly that morning, and then hastily entered the house.

As I put on my bonnet and cloak for church, I made up my mind never to make a request of him again without being able to give a good, honest reason for it.

The bell of St. Mark's began ringing as I went down the broad staircase.

I paused a moment at the library door, and then went on to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Flaxman usually awaited me. I was surprised to find her sitting near the fire, a book in her hand, and no preparation made for church.

"You must go alone this morning, I fear."

"Are you not well?"

"No, dear; I cannot even plead a headache. I might go deeper, though; for I have had a heartache of late."

"Have you got bad news from Hubert?"

"On the contrary, I have had better news than usual from him in his last few letters; but, dear, I may have other anxieties than merely personal ones."

"Our anxieties should send us to G.o.d's house, and not keep us away--don't you think?"

"Yes, in most cases. Some day I may explain all this to you, Medoline; but not now."

"Good-bye, then," I said, kissing the sweet, gentle face, and thinking I knew what was keeping her at home. As I pa.s.sed into the hall, I saw Mr.

Winthrop coming down from his own room; but I did not pause to speak, thinking he was on his way to the library. My hand was on the door, when he called me back.

"After inviting me to church, are you going without me?"

I turned and saw that he was taking his hat.

"Are you really going?"

"Yes, really. I would be rude, indeed, to slight your first invitation."

"Do you come this morning merely because I invited you?" I asked, incredulously.

"Do you consider it courteous to inquire too minutely into the motives of your friends?"