Janet's Love and Service Part 13

He did not seem to doubt a welcome from her, or her father either, as he came in.

What the charm was, that beguiled Mr Greenleaf into spending so many hours in the minister's study, the good people of Merleville found it difficult to say. The squire's ill-concealed indifference to the opinions of people generally, had told against him always. For once, Mrs Page had been too charitable. He was not in a hopeful state, at least, in her sense of the term, and it might be doubted, whether frequent intercourse with the minister, would be likely to encourage the young man to the attainment of Mrs Page's standard of excellence. But to the study he often came, and he was never an unwelcome guest.

"If I am come at a wrong time, tell me so," said he, as he shook hands with Mr Elliott, over a table covered with books and papers.

"You can hardly do that," said the minister, preparing to put the books and papers away. "I am nearly done for the night. Excuse me, for a minute only."

Graeme lingered talking to their visitor, till her father should be quite at liberty.

"I have something for you," said Mr Greenleaf, in a minute. Graeme smiled her thanks, and held out her hand for the expected book, or magazine. It was a note this time.

"From Celestia!" she exclaimed, colouring a little.

Graeme did not aspire to the honour of Celestia's confidence in all things, but she knew, or could guess enough, about the state of affairs between her friend and Mr Greenleaf, to be wonderfully interested in them, and she could not help feeling a little embarra.s.sed, as she took the note, from his hands.

"Read it," said he.

Graeme stooped down to catch the firelight. The note was very brief.

Celestia was going away, and wished Graeme to come and see her, to-morrow. Mr Greenleaf would fetch her.

"Celestia, going away!" she exclaimed, raising herself up.

"Yes," said he, "have you not heard it?"

"I heard the farm was to be sold, but I hoped they would still stay in Merleville."

"So did I," said Mr Greenleaf, gravely.

"When will they go?"

"Miss Jones is to be a teacher, in the new seminary at Rixford. They are going to live there, and it cannot be very long before they go."

"To her uncle?"

"No, Celestia thinks her mother would not be happy there. They will live by themselves, with the children."

"How sorry Celestia will be to go away," said Graeme, sadly.

"She will not be persuaded to stay," said Mr Greenleaf.

Graeme darted a quick, embarra.s.sed look at him, as much as to say, "Have you asked her?" He answered her in words.

"Yes, I have tried, and failed. She does not care to stay."

There was only sadness in his voice; at least, she detected nothing else. There was none of the bitterness which, while it made Celestia's heart ache that afternoon, had made her all the more determined to do what she believed to be right.

"Oh! it's not that," said Graeme, earnestly, "I'm sure she cares. I mean if she goes, it will be because she thinks it right, not because she wishes it."

"Is it right to make herself and me unhappy?"

"But her mother and the rest. They are in trouble; it would seem like forsaking them."

"It need not. They might stay with her."

"I think, perhaps--I don't think--" Graeme hesitated, and then said hurriedly,--

"Are you rich, Mr Greenleaf?" He laughed.

"I believe you are one of those who do not compute riches by the number of dollars one possesses. So I think, to you I may safely answer, yes.

I have contentment with little, and on such wealth one pays no taxes."

"Yes; but--I think,--oh, I can't say what I think; but I'm sure Celestia is right. I am quite sure of that."

Mr Greenleaf did not look displeased, though Graeme feared he might, at her bold speech.

"I don't believe I had better take you to see her to-morrow. You will encourage her to hold out against me."

"Not against you. She would never do that. And, besides, it would make no difference. Celestia is wise and strong, and will do what she believes to be right."

"Wise and strong," repeated Mr Greenleaf, smiling, but his face grew grave in a minute again. Mr Elliott made a movement to join them, and Graeme thought of her neglected tea-kettle, and hastened away.

"Never mind," she whispered, "it will all end well. Things always do when people do right."

Mr Greenleaf might have some doubt as to the truth of this comforting declaration in all cases, but he could have none as to the interest and good wishes of his little friend, so he only smiled in reply. Not that he had really many serious doubts as to its ending well. He had more than once that very afternoon grieved Celestia by saying that she did not care for him; but, if he had ever had any serious trouble on the subject, they vanished when the first touch of anger and disappointment had worn away, giving him time to acknowledge and rejoice over the "strength and wisdom" so unhesitatingly ascribed by Graeme to her friend. So that it was not at all in a desponding spirit that he turned to reply, when the minister addressed him.

They had scarcely settled down to one of their long, quiet talks, when they were summoned to tea by Graeme, and before tea was over, Janet and the bairns came home. The boys had found their way up the hill when school was over, and they all came home together in Mr Snow's sleigh.

To escape from the noise and confusion which they brought with them, Mr Greenleaf and the minister went into the study again.

During the silence that succeeded their entrance, there came into Mr Greenleaf's mind a thought that had been often there before. It was a source of wonder to him that a man of Mr Elliott's intellectual power and culture should content himself in so quiet a place as Merleville, and to-night he ventured to give expression to his thoughts. Mr Elliott smiled.

"I don't see that my being content to settle down here for life, is any more wonderful than that you should have done so. Indeed, I should say, far less wonderful. You are young and have the world before you."

"But my case is quite different. I settle here to get a living, and I mean to get a good one too, and besides," added he, laughing, "Merleville is as good a place as any other to go to Congress from; there is no American but may have that before him you know."

"As for the living, I can get here such as will content me. For the rest, the souls in this quiet place are as precious as elsewhere. I am thankful for my field of labour."

Mr Greenleaf had heard such words before, and he had taken them "for what they were worth," as a correct thing for a minister to say. But the quiet earnestness and simplicity of Mr Elliott's manner struck him as being not just a matter of course.

"He is in earnest about it, and does not need to use many words to prove it. There must be something in it." He did not answer him, however.

"There is one thing which is worth consideration," continued Mr Elliott, "you may be disappointed, but I cannot be so, in the nature of things."

"About getting a living?" said Mr Greenleaf, and a vague remembrance of Deacons Fish and Slowcome made him move uneasily in his chair.

"That is not what I was thinking of, but I suppose I may be sure of that, too. 'Your bread shall be given you, and your water sure.' And there is no such thing as disappointment in that for which I really am labouring, the glory of G.o.d, and the good of souls."

"Well," said Mr Greenleaf, gravely, "there must be something in it that I don't see, or you will most a.s.suredly be disappointed. It is by no means impossible that I may have my wish, men of humbler powers than mine--I may say it without vanity--have risen higher than to the Congress of our country. I don't look upon mine as by any means a hopeless ambition. But the idea of your ever seeing all the crooked natures in Merleville made straight! Well, to say the least, I don't see how you can be very sanguine about it."

"Well, I don't say that even that is beyond my ambition, or beyond the power of Him whom I serve to accomplish. But though I may never see this, or the half of this accomplished, it does not follow that I am to be disappointed, more than it follows that your happiness will be secured when you sit in the Congress of this great nation, or rule in the White House even, which is not beyond your ambition either, I suppose. You know how a promise may be 'kept to the ear and broken to the heart,' as somebody says."