Chapter Seventh.
"O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, life hath snares!" --Longfellow.
A bright ray of sunshine stealing in between the silken curtains fellathwart Mildred's eyes and awoke her.
The fire was blazing cheerily on the hearth, Rachel was at hand to waitupon her, and she found it by no means unpleasant to sit still and haveher hair skilfully arranged for her instead of doing the work withher own hands, as she had been accustomed to do since she was quite alittle girl.
She occupied herself the while in reading aloud from the Bible,according to promise, and Rachel seemed well pleased to listen.
Her toilet completed, Mildred went to the library to answer her letter,while waiting for the breakfast bell, and there Mr. Dinsmore found her.
"That is quite right," he said. "Send my love to them all. But don'tclose your letter yet, you'll want to tell your mother about your ride.We'll take one that used to be a favorite with her."
Mildred looked up brightly. "I shall enjoy it all the more for knowingthat."
"You are accustomed to riding on horseback?" he said inquiringly.
"Enough to be able to keep my seat on a well behaved steed," sheanswered laughingly. "I hope to improve very much under your tuition,Uncle Dinsmore."
"Gyp, the pony I have assigned to you while you stay, is quite safe, Ithink; sufficiently spirited but well trained," he said, giving her hisarm to conduct her into the breakfast room, for the bell had rung.
"I hear you are going to ride, Mildred," Mrs. Dinsmore remarked as theyrose from the table. "Have you a riding habit?"
Mildred was very glad to be able to reply in the affirmative.
The horses were already at the door.
She hurried to her room and was down again in a few minutes arrayed ina manner that entirely satisfied Mrs. Dinsmore.
It was a delicious morning, riders and steeds seemed alike in finespirits, and Mildred had seldom found anything more enjoyable thanthe brisk canter of the next hour over a good road and through new andpleasing scenes.
On their return Mrs. Dinsmore followed her to her room.
"You must have some of your dresses made at once, Mildred," she said."Can you get out the materials and come now to the sewing-room to befitted? The black silk should be first, I think, and finished thisweek, that you may have it to wear to church next Sunday."
"You are very kind, aunt," Mildred said, looking much pleased; "but arenot the services of your seamstresses needed just now for yourself andthe children?"
"No; there is nothing hurrying," was the reply; "we all had falldresses made up in Philadelphia, and you must be prepared to showyourself to visitors; for our friends and neighbors will soon becalling on you, as well as on us; of course I shall take pride inhaving them find my husband's niece suitably attired."
Mildred was nothing loath to accept the offer; in fact was filled withan eager desire, natural to her age, to see how all these beautifulthings would look when made up, and how well they would become her.
But her love of independence and the industrious habits in which shehad been trained, alike forbade her to leave all the work to Mrs.Dinsmore's maids; her own deft and busy fingers accomplished no smallshare of it; the greater part of every day for the next two or threeweeks being occupied in that way.
Mrs. Dinsmore disliked exertion of any kind and seldom took a needle inher hand, but she had no distaste toward seeing others employed, andgenerally spent her mornings lounging in the sewing-room, ready to giveher opinion in regard to styles of trimming, and so forth, and enjoyinga comfortable sense of conferring a great favor thereby.
The black silk was completed in time to be worn on Mildred's firstSunday at Roselands, and Mrs. Dinsmore, subjecting her to a carefulscrutiny when she came down ready dressed for church, assured her thatshe was quite a stylish looking young lady, whom she herself was notashamed to exhibit to her acquaintance as belonging to the Dinsmorefamily.
A glance into a pier glass in the drawing-room told Mildred thecompliment was not undeserved, and I fear there was no little gratifiedvanity in the smile with which she turned away and followed her aunt tothe carriage waiting for them at the door, and that the consciousnessof her finery and its becomingness seriously interfered with theheartiness of her devotions in the house of God, and the attention sheshould have given to the preaching of the Word, and services of prayerand praise.
She was in some measure aware of this herself, and felt condemned onaccount of it; but was not helped to recover lost ground by the worldlyconversation carried on about her during the greater part of the day.
There was a good deal of friendly chat in the vestibule of the church,after the close of the services, neighbors and acquaintances gatheringabout the Dinsmores to welcome and congratulate them on their returnfrom their late trip, and inquire concerning their health and enjoymentof their lengthened sojourn in the North.
Mr. Dinsmore was extremely hospitable and fond of entertaining hisfriends, nor had he any scruples about doing so on the Sabbath; and athis urgent invitation two gentlemen and a very gayly dressed and livelyyoung lady accompanied his family and himself to Roselands to dine andspend the remainder of the day.
The talk was just what it might have been on any other occasion; ofpolitics, amusements, dress, anything and everything but the topicssuited to the sacredness of the day; and Mildred, while yielding tothe temptation to join in it, felt painfully conscious that in so doingshe was not obeying the command, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep itholy."
It was late in the evening when the visitors left, and she retired toher room weary and sleepy, hurried through the form of devotion, givingbut little heart to it, and was soon in bed and asleep.
She tried to do better the next morning, but her thoughts ran very muchon dress and the vanities of earth.
"How could she help that?" she asked herself, half despairingly, halfin excuse, "she must assist in making her clothes, and decide, too, howit should be done."
Another dress was begun that day, and head and hands were fullyoccupied over it.
Her uncle insisted on a ride or walk every day, callers began to come,hours had to be spent in the drawing-room, and work on the new dressesto be pushed all the harder the rest of the day to recover lost time.
Then she must attire herself in her most becoming finery, and drive outwith Mrs. Dinsmore to return her calls, during which the talk generallyran upon the merest trifles, furnishing no food for mind or heart.
Flatteries and compliments were showered upon our heroine, for shewas pretty, graceful and refined, quick at repartee, self-possessed,without being conceited, well informed for her years, and a goodconversationalist.
Her aunt and uncle were altogether satisfied with the impression shemade; but her parents would have been sorely troubled could they haveknown how the world and its vanities were engrossing the thoughts oftheir beloved child, to the exclusion of better things.
There were brilliant entertainments given in her honor; first, by Mrs.Dinsmore, afterward by others who had been her invited guests.
The weather continuing remarkably mild and pleasant for some weeks,there were excursions gotten up to various points of interest in thevicinity; there were dinner parties and tea drinkings; days when thehouse was filled with gay company from morning to night, or when Mr.and Mrs. Dinsmore visited in like manner at the houses of neighboringplanters, taking Mildred with them.
Then there were drives to the city: in the daytime to shop for morefinery, in the evening for the purpose of attending some place ofamusement,--now a concert, now a lecture, and at length the opera andthe theatre.
Into these latter and questionable, not to say forbidden, places ofresort, to one reared as Mildred had been, she was at first decoyed;but becoming intoxicated with their sensual sweets, she went again andagain of her own free will.
Thus for a month or more she ran a giddy round of worldly pleasures,scarcely taking time to
think, and refusing to listen to the warningsand upbraidings of conscience.
But her gayeties began to tell unfavorably upon her health, therecovery of which had been her principal object in leaving home, andshe was obliged to relinquish them in part.
Then a long storm set in, confining her to the house for a week, andkeeping away visitors. She was forced to stop and consider, and a long,loving letter from her mother coming just then, freighted with words ofChristian counsel, had a blessed effect in helping to open her eyes toher guilt and danger.
In the silence and solitude of her room, the sighing of the windwithout, and the rain and sleet beating against the windows, the onlysounds that reached her ear, Mildred read and wept over this letter,and over the mental review of the life she had been leading sincecoming to Roselands.
To a mere worldling it might have seemed innocent enough, but not soto Mildred's enlightened conscience; a butterfly existence was not theend for which she had been created; yet she could not shut her eyesto the fact that that was the best that could be said of her life oflate; she had been neither doing nor getting any good, but rather thecontrary--injuring her health by her dissipations, setting an exampleof worldliness, and falling behind in the Christian race.
She had not neglected the forms of religious service,--had attendedchurch every Sunday, read her Bible, and repeated a prayer night andmorning; but all, as she now saw with grief and shame, with a sadlywandering heart, thoughts full of dress and earthly vanities.
Alas! how far she had wandered out of the way in which she hadcovenanted to walk! and that though she had proved in days past, that"Wisdom's ways were ways of pleasantness, and all her paths were peace."
And as she questioned with herself whether she had found real enjoymentin these by-paths of worldliness and sin, she was forced to acknowledgethat in spite of much thoughtless gayety and mirth, there had been nogenuine, solid happiness, but instead a secret uneasiness which shevainly strove to banish, and could only forget for a time in the giddyround of amusement.
Should she go on as she had begun? No: by the help of God she wouldturn and find again the path she had left; even as her mother in thistimely letter advised and entreated.
Mrs. Keith knew to some extent, the worldly atmosphere of the houseinto which her young daughter had gone, and she had written with thefear in her heart that Mildred might succumb to its temptations even asshe had done.
She entreated her to be on her guard, watching unto prayer and thuskeeping close to the Master.
"And, dear daughter," she added, "should you ever find that you havewandered, lose not a moment in returning to him and pleading forcleansing, for pardon, and restoration to his favor through his ownprecious blood. Let not Satan tempt you to stay away one moment withthe lie that the Lord is not ever waiting to be gracious and everready and willing to forgive; or that he would have you delay tillyour repentance is deeper or you have done something to atone in somemeasure for your sin.
"God's time is always now; to the back-slider in heart or life, aswell as to the impenitent sinner; and to both he says: 'Him that comethunto me, I will in no wise cast out!'"