CHAPTER VIII.
FORGING THE FIRST LINK.
Autumn, with its sobbing winds and falling leaves, was over now, andcold, sterile winter reigned supreme all around. Day after day thechill northern blasts swept over the busy town, bringing with them nowa tempest of blinding sleet, and again showers of softly-falling snow:rich people wrapped themselves warmly in their furs and velvet; and thepoor, gathering their tattered garments more closely round them,shivered under the touch of the icy king. But if winter days broughtcold, bleak winds and murky skies, they also brought many pleasures intheir train; and young hearts beat joyfully as the Christmas-tide drewnear, and bright visions of the festive season filled each youthfulmind.
Winnie especially was in a state of great excitement, for Mrs. Blakehad promised her a party with a real Christmas tree, to which she wasat liberty to invite as many of her school-mates as she chose. Onelittle trifle alone damped her happiness--namely, the command toinclude Ada Irvine in the list of her invitations; and although Winniepouted and pleaded her dislike of that young lady, Mrs. Blake remainedfirm, and insisted that her injunction should be carried out. "Yourfather was formerly on very intimate terms with Mr. Irvine, Winnie, andI will have no slight or disrespect shown to his daughter; so, eitherpost her an invitation or abandon the idea of a party altogether." Andwhen her step-mother spoke in that decided manner, Winnie knew she hadno alternative save to yield.
"I sincerely trust Ada Irvine will have the good sense to refuse," sheconfided to Nellie the day on which the invitations were about to beissued. "She'll spoil the whole affair it she comes, horrid old thing;and I did mean it all to be so nice. Ugh! she will surely neveraccept," and Winnie's face wore anything but an amiable expression.
School had not been such a very pleasant place those last few weeks,and many of the scenes which occurred there were certainly neitherseemly nor instructive. Open warfare reigned between Ada and Winnie,and the skirmishes were becoming serious as well as disagreeable; forWinnie, scouting all Nellie's proposals of being patient and winning bylove, made a fiery little adversary, and Ada Irvine's dislike of bothwas rapidly deepening into the bitterest hatred--the more so when shesaw Nellie rising gradually in the esteem of both teachers andscholars: the former being won by her steady attention and modestbehaviour; the latter by the simple, kindly spirit which characterizedall her actions. There was much still to call for patient forbearanceand quiet endurance; but Nellie could see the golden sunlight streamingthrough the clouds, and hopefully trusted that by-and-by every darkshadow would vanish and leave never a trace behind.
This state of matters was as gall and wormwood to Ada. Nellie'sgradual triumph, and Winnie's malicious delight thereat, roused everyevil passion in her nature; and out of her deadly hatred she meditateda sure revenge when the opportunity came in her way. What form itwould take she hardly knew; events would shape themselves somehow; andthen--the cold blue eyes glittered ominously at the thought of what shetermed her reckoning-day.
Many a tender, wistful thought Winnie sent to Miss Latimer, though shehad never managed to visit Dingle Cottage a second time. Her preciousvolumes were read and re-read over and over again; and it seemed as itAunt Judith's quiet, peaceful face shone forth from every page, and thesoft, kindly voice uttered each loving word and noble thought. Dickused to protest his utter weariness of Aunt Judith and her books, forday after day she was quoted to him with never-failing enthusiasm; buton those occasions when he did give expression to such sentiments,Winnie merely treated him to a hearty embrace, and pursued theinteresting subject with increased earnestness. In the meantime,however, her mind was so fully occupied with the forthcoming party thatnothing else was on her lips from morn till eve; and with regard toMiss Latimer, Dick had peace for a season.
Oh, what discussions took place in the old oak parlour over theapproaching festivity! How was it to be conducted? What was to be theprogramme for the evening? and who were to be included in the list ofinvitations?
"I suppose your friends will be able to dance, Dick?" inquired Winnieone night when they were sitting together talking as usual about thegreat event in prospect. "Mamma says we cannot play games all theevening."
"Well, I daresay they can do a hop or two when it's necessary,"answered the boy lazily. "Just you get hold of Archie Trollope andhe'll spin you round and round the room in a twinkle; not verygracefully, perhaps, but with no lack of energy. He's the boy to doit;" and Dick laughed as he pictured the charming spectacle with hismental eye.
Winnie looked dignified.
"If he cannot dance properly," she said, with a touch of contempt inher voice, "most assuredly he will not have the honour of dancing withme. I have no desire to figure ridiculously in a ball-room," and thelittle lady drew herself up proudly as she spoke.
Dick collapsed.
"The honour!" he gasped spasmodically--"the honour! My eye! listen tothe princess!" and rolling himself about in convulsions of laughter,the vulgar boy ended his merriment by tilting over his chair andlanding himself gracefully on the floor.
"Why not an honour, pray?" inquired Winnie, looking loftily on thesprawling form at her feet. "Is it not a _great_ privilege for anygentleman to dance with a lady?" and the indignant child laid specialstress on the word "great."
Dick rose, and treating her to a sweeping Sir Charles Grandison bow,replied, "You are right, madam; the honour is inestimable." At thisboth laughed, and continued the interrupted conversation.
"Ada Irvine has accepted her invitation, Dick," was Winnie's nextannouncement, given with ominous gravity. "No one ever imagined shewould do so, and all the school-girls are talking about it."
Dick gave a low whistle.
"Depend upon it, Win," he said solemnly, "there's something in thewind. Ada Irvine's not the girl to take such a step without having areason for so doing. I guess you and Nellie had better look out forsqualls, for if Miss Ada's not up to some low dodge, my name's notRichard Blake."
And even while they were speaking, the subject of their conversationsat up in her comfortable bedroom at Mrs. Elder's, thinking over thefirst link she was about to forge in the long chain of bitter maliceand deceit. She was seated in a low basket-chair before the fire,making a pretty picture with her long fair hair floating down her back,and her dainty figure nestling cosily amongst the soft cushions. Herblue eyes had an absent, far-away look, and the small white hands lyingon her lap were nervously interlaced one with the other.
"Yes," she muttered in a low, hushed voice, "I shall have my revenge,though I cannot as yet see the way clearly before me. I hardly knowtowards which I bear the greater hatred, but anyhow both willsuffer--Winnifred Blake for her malicious triumph and delight; NellieLatimer for her upsetting behaviour and quiet contempt. Oh, how Idetest them both!" and the girl's eyes gleamed angrily. There was amoment's silence; then she continued, knitting her white brow in aperplexed frown,--"I wonder how I shall manage? One thing is certain:I must do my best on Friday night--make a good impression on the Blakefamily, and cautiously poison their minds with respect to NellieLatimer. People are so credulous in this world, it is wonderful what aword skilfully thrown in will do, and how very easily it is credited;but I must be careful, and lay my plans with the greatest caution."
She spoke all this in a low undertone, as if fearful of beingoverheard, and her eyes wandered round the room with an uneasy lightshining in their depths. The fire-flames leaped and crackled, thepretty room was full of warmth and comfort; yet the girl shiveredviolently, and gave a scared glance towards the window as the wind wentwailing round the house like a sobbing child. What gave her thatstrange, restless feeling--that weariness of heart? She could hardlytell; only somehow the world seemed all changed of late, and theChristmas-tide so close at hand failed to afford the same joy andgladness it had done heretofore. A great black cloud seemed to behiding all the sunshine from her sight; a heavy weight would keepdragging at her heart-strings, and a continual thirst after revengepersisted in haunting
her every footstep.
Yet this time was a season of peace and holy joy--a time when handshould clasp hand with the fervour of warm friendship, and all pastslights and wrongs be blotted out for ever, leaving room for naught inthe heart save the pure Christ-like love which makes this world aheaven on earth. Night after night, as the Christmas-tide drew near,the sky spread itself over all--one curtain, of misty blue, studdedwith the bright, scintillating twinkle of myriads of happy stars.Every evening the quiet, peaceful moon shone forth rounder andmellower; the north wind tempered its cutting blasts and touched thesleeping earth gently, gently with its icy fingers; and thefrost-sparkles, glistering from lofty steeple and sloping roof, changedthe dingy town to a veritable fairyland.
At first Nellie had often wondered why Miss Latimer took such aninterest in the outside world, and what beauty she could see in thebusy city with its constant din and bustle. But that was over now, forshe had learned that the nature-world was as an open book to AuntJudith--a treasury from which she brought forth gold, silver, andprecious stones, and scattered them throughout the world in the shapeof grand, beautiful thoughts.
Nellie found life very pleasant just now at the little cottage inBroomhill Road. Miss Latimer and Aunt Debby vied with each other inevery endeavour to add to her comfort and happiness; while even AuntMeg roused herself occasionally from her selfish torpor and tried tobrighten the tiny home. She could gladden it wonderfully when shechose, for Miss Margaret possessed many pleasing traits of character;but, alas! she seldom did choose, and, as Miss Deborah quaintlyexpressed it, "one had to endure innumerable showers of rain for onegleam of sunshine." Nellie had become so accustomed, however, to theinvalid's whims and caprices, that she thought little, if at all, aboutthem, and in the meantime her whole attention was engrossed withWinnie's party. Miss Latimer had bought her a soft white muslin forthe occasion, and Miss Deborah was busy converting it into theprettiest party-dress imaginable. The young girl had been at firstslightly dubious about Aunt Debby's dress-making capabilities; but herdoubts were fast disappearing as she watched the gradual progress madeunder that lady's skilful fingers, and noted how beautifully andtastefully the work was done.
"I am sure no one will have such a pretty dress, Aunt Debby," she saidone afternoon, coming into the parlour and finding Miss Deborah busyover the dainty garment. "It is so good of you to put yourself to allthis trouble for me, and I shall never be able to thank you as Iought." Nellie's eyes glistened as she spoke.
"You will soon find out your mistake, my dear," said Aunt Meg from hercouch by the fire. "I question if one of your friends will be dressedin so simple and cheap a material. Why, you will be a regular dowdy,and I told Judith so when she showed me her purchase. She could hardlyhave bought a less expensive fabric."
"Nonsense, Meg," put in Miss Deborah with a displeased frown and rapidglance at Nellie's amazed countenance; "don't place absurd ideas in thechild's head. You know perfectly well muslin makes a most appropriatedress for a young girl. I wonder what Judith would say were she tohear you speak in that manner?"
"Look like a saint, and preach to Nellie on the vanity and vexation ofthe human heart," replied the invalid, who seemed to be decidedly outof humour. "I am well aware of Judith's style, Debby: that is how shecovers her stinginess," and Miss Margaret gave a little sarcastic laughat this point.
"Hush!" almost shouted Miss Deborah, turning a pair of bright, angryeyes in the direction of the couch. "How dare you utter such anuntruth? Simply because one of your endless wishes was thwarted. Meg,I am ashamed of you!" and Aunt Debby resumed her sewing with an air ofheavy displeasure, while the invalid relapsed into sulky silence, thecause of her ill-humour being Aunt Judith's refusal that morning togrant her a new dressing-gown. "Wait a little longer, Meg; I canhardly afford it just now, and your old one still looks pretty andfresh," had been the quiet answer to the proffered request; but thatwas sufficient to upset the invalid's equanimity for the rest of theday, and no amount of kindness could soothe her wounded feelings.
Of course Nellie was ignorant of all this. Still, although she did notbelieve Miss Margaret's statement in reference to Miss Latimer'smeanness, the words left a sting, and the pretty dress seemed divestedof half its beauty. "Aunt Judith might have purchased something just atrifle more expensive," was the unuttered thought ever rising to herlips; but, oh! how her heart reproached her when, on the evening of theparty, Miss Latimer called her into the little sanctum, and, shuttingthe door, lifted a small box from the table and proceeded to unfastenthe lock.
"Aunt Debby has just been showing me your dress, Nellie," she said inher soft gentle voice, "and now that it is finished I think it verypretty indeed. I hardly know why, but I have an idea _you_ consider ittoo simple for evening wear; and although I am sorry should such be thecase, I cannot agree with you. The dress seems to me quite suitable,and its charm lies in its very simplicity. A little trinket round theneck, however, might be an improvement, and so, dear, I am going toforestall my Christmas present and give it to you now. I suppose youwill value it none the less because I used to wear it long ago in mygirlhood days;" and Miss Latimer, lifting a string of fairest pearlsfrom the box, clasped them round her niece's neck as she spoke.
Nellie's breath came quick and fast.
"O auntie! they are never for me," she gasped excitedly. "They are sobeautiful, and I have been thinking such horrid things."
Aunt Judith smiled. "I do not blame you, child. It is only naturalsuch thoughts should crop up; but, Nellie, I am not so very rich, andcannot afford to be lavish with my money. One never knows what mayhappen, and I must needs guard against a rainy day. No, no; notanother reproachful word. I like to see my child look fair and sweet.Good-night, dear." And kissing her softly. Miss Latimer pushed therepentant girl from the room with gentle hands. Then closing the door,she drew a low chair close to the fire, and, as she sat quietlythinking, the white, set look Nellie had noticed before settled overthe patient face, while the lips quivered and drooped like those of onein pain.
What was the mystery in Aunt Judith's life? What suffering had stampedits refining image on that noble, true face, and bore witness to thefiery trial through which she had passed?
Few knew of the life of complete self-renunciation lived out in thatlittle home--the quiet acceptance and patient bearing of a life-longsorrow, and the earnest endeavour day after day to follow closely theMaster's footsteps, and live his holy, blameless life. But some day inthe great hereafter, she knew the mystery of suffering would beexplained, and that there what was here sown weeping would be reaped injoy and gladness; and knowing this, Aunt Judith was content to wait.