CHAPTER XI.
Three was a good little gathering of the workers, many of whom werequite young persons. Among them Matilda was not a little surprised tosee Maria. But she warily sheered off from comments and questions, andtook a seat in another part of the room.
"We are here for a good talk to-night," said the minister, after theyhad sung and prayed. "I stand ready to meet difficulties and answerquestions. All who have any more little notes to lay on the desk,please bring or send them up, or ask their questions by word of mouth.I will take the first of these that comes to hand."
Mr. Richmond unfolded a paper and read it over to himself, in the midstof a hush of expectation. Then he read it aloud.
"If a member of the Relief Committee visits a sick person in want ofhelp, and finds another member of some other committee giving the helpand doing the work of the Relief Committee, which of them should takecare of the case?"
"It is almost as puzzling," said Mr. Richmond, "as that other question,what husband the woman should have in the other world who had had sevenin this. But as we are not just like the angels in heaven yet, I shouldsay in this and similar cases, that the one who first found andundertook the case should continue her care--or his care--if he or shebe so minded. The old rule of 'first come, first served,' is a goodone, I think. The Relief Committee has no monopoly of the joy ofhelping others. Let us see what comes next.
"'There are four people, I know, who go to read the Bible to one blindperson--and I know of at least two who are sick and unable to read,that nobody goes to.'
"Want of system," said Mr. Richmond, looking up. "The head of theBible-reading Committee should be told of these facts."
"She has been told," said a lady in the company.
"Then doubtless the irregularity will be set to rights."
"No, it is not so certain; for the blind person lives where it is easyto attend her; and the sick people are in Lilac Lane--out of the way,and in a disagreeable place."
"Does the head of the Bible-reading Committee decline these cases,having nobody that she can send to them?"
"She says she does not know whom to send."
"I will thank you for the names of those two cases by and by, Mrs.Norris; I think I can get them supplied. The question of theory I willhandle presently, before we separate."
"Here is another request," said Mr. Richmond, who knew Matilda'shandwriting,--"from a dear child, who asks to know 'what we shall do,when people will not hear the message we carry?' Why, try again. Go andtell them again; and never mind rebuffs if you get them. People did notlisten to our Master; it is no matter of wonder if they refuse to hearus. But He did not stop His labours for that; neither must we. 'Let usnot be weary in well-doing; for in due season we shall reap, if wefaint not.' I give her that for her watchword;--' _If we faint not_,remember.
"The next question in my hand is, 'what we are to do about welcomingstrangers?' The writer states, that six new scholars have lately cometo the school, and, to her certain knowledge, only two of them havereceived any welcome.
"Well," said Mr. Richmond, thoughtfully, "I must come to the words Ihad chosen to talk to you about. They answer a great many things. Youall remember a verse in the Epistle to the Ephesians which speaks of'redeeming the time, because the days are evil.'
"I dare say it has puzzled some of you, as it used once to puzzle me.How are we to 'redeem the time'? Another translation of the passagewill perhaps be clearer and help us to understand. '_Buying' upopportunities_.' The words are so rendered by a late great authority. Idon't know but you will at first think it just as hard to comprehend.How are we to 'buy up opportunities'?"
"I am sure I don't know," said Mrs. Swan, Ailie's mother. "I alwaysthought opportunities were given."
"So they are. But the privilege of using them, we often must buy."
"I don't see how."
"Let us come to facts, Mrs. Swan. Here are four opportunities in theschool, in the shape of new members added to it. How comes it theseopportunities have not been used? There are two other grandopportunities in Lilac Lane."
"Are we to buy them?" said Mrs. Trembleton.
"I do not see how else the difficulty can be met. They are worthbuying. But the next question is, What will you pay?"
There was a long silence, which nobody seemed inclined to break.
"I think you see, my dear friends, what I mean. For welcoming thosefour strangers, somebody must give up his ease for a moment--must makea little sacrifice of comfort. It will be very little indeed, for thesethings pay as we go; we get our return promptly. The opportunities inLilac Lane must be bought, perhaps, with some giving up of time; ofpleasure, perhaps; perhaps we must pay some annoyance. It is so withmost of our opportunities, dear friends. He who serves God with whatcosts him nothing, will do very little service, you may depend on it.Christ did not so; who, 'though He was rich, yet for our sakes Hebecame poor, that we through His poverty might be rich.' He 'pleasednot Himself.' And we, if we are His servants, must be ready to give_everything_, if need be, even our lives also, to the work He calls usto do. We must buy up opportunities with all our might, paying not onlytime and money, but love, and patience, and self-denial, andself-abasement, and labour, and pains-taking. We cannot be rightservants of God or happy servants, and keep back anything. 'Let a manso account of us, as ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteriesof God;' and let us see that all the grace He gives us we use to thevery uttermost for His glory, in 'works, and love, and service, andfaith, and patience, and works.' My dear friends, if we have only_love_ in our hearts, love will buy up opportunities as fast as theycome; and always have the right money."
Mr. Richmond said no more, but after another hymn and a prayerdismissed the assembly. Maria and Matilda presently found themselvesside by side in the street.
"Maria," said the younger one, "don't you think you and I will go andread to those two poor people in the lane?"
"I guess I will!" said Maria, "when I get done being chief cook andbottle-washer to Mrs. Minny Candy."
"But before that, Maria?"
"When shall I go?" said Maria, sharply. "When it is time to getbreakfast? or when the potatoes are on for dinner? or when I am takingthe orders for tea? Don't be a goose, Matilda, if you can help it."
"We haven't much time," said Matilda, sighing.
"And I am not going to Lilac Lane, if I had it. There are enough otherpeople to do that."
"O Maria!"
"Well, 'O Maria,'--there are."
"But they do not go."
"That's their look out."
"And, Maria, you see what Mr. Richmond thinks about the Dows."
"I don't see any such thing."
"You heard him to-night."
"He didn't say a word about the Dows."
"But about trying again, he did. O Maria, I've thought a great manytimes of that Dows' house."
"So have I," said Maria; "what fools we were."
"Why?"
"Why, because it was no use."
"Mr. Richmond doesn't think so."
"He's welcome to go and try for himself. _I_ am not going again."
"What is the matter, Maria?"
"Nothing is the matter."
"But, Maria, ever since you joined the Band, I cannot remember onceseeing you 'buy up opportunities.' If you loved Jesus, I think youwould."
"I wouldn't preach," said Maria. "That is one thing I wouldn't do. If Iwas better than my neighbours, I'd let them be the ones to find it out."
Matilda was silent till they reached home.
"Where have you been, Matilda?" said her aunt, opening the parlour door.
"To see Miss Redwood, aunt Candy."
"Ask me, next time, before going anywhere. Here has Maria hadeverything to do since five hours ago,--all alone."
Matilda shut her lips firmly,--if her head took a more upright set onher shoulders she did not know it,--and went up-stairs after her sister.
"How is mamma, Maria?" she asked, when she got there.
<
br /> "I don't know. Just the same."
The little girl sighed.
"What is to be for breakfast?"
"Fish balls."
"You do not know how to make them."
"Aunt Erminia told me. But I shall want your help, Tilly, for the fishhas to be carefully picked all to pieces; and if we leave a bit as bigas a sixpence, there'll be a row."
"But the fish isn't soaked, Maria."
"It is in hot water on the stove now. It will be done by morning."
Matilda sighed again deeply, and knelt down before the table where herBible was open. "Buying up opportunities" floated through her head;with "works, and love, and service, and faith, and patience, andworks"* [*Alford's translation.]--"Christ pleased not Himself"--and thelittle girl's head went down upon the open page. How much love she musthave, to meet all the needs for it! to do all the works, have all thepatience, buy up all the opportunities! Tilly's one prayer was that shemight be full of love, first to God and then to everybody.
Such prayers are apt to be answered; and the next morning saw her gothrough all the details of its affairs with a quiet patience andreadiness which must have had a deep spring somewhere. She helped Mariain the tedious picking out of the fish; she roasted her cheeks infrying the balls, while her sister was making porridge; she attended tothe coffee; and she met her aunt and cousin at breakfast with anunruffled quiet sweetness of temper. It was just the drop of oil neededto keep things going smoothly; for Maria was tired and out of humour,and Mrs. Candy disposed to be ill-pleased with both the girls for theirbeing out at the Band meeting. She did not approve of the whole thing,she said. However, the sunshine scattered the clouds away. And when,after a busy morning and a pretty well got-up dinner, Matilda askedleave to go out and take a walk, she had her reward. Mrs. Candy gavepermission.
"Won't you come too, Maria?" she asked, when they went to their ownroom.
"There's no fun in walking," Maria answered, disconsolately.
"I am going to Lilac Lane."
"I hope you don't think there is any fun in _that_."
"But, Maria!----"
"Well, what?"
"I think there is something a great deal better than fun."
"You may have it all then, for me."
"Maria," said her little sister, gently, "I wish you wouldn't mind.Mamma will get well by and by, and this will be all over; and we aregetting along so nicely. Aunt Candy was quite pleased with the dinner."
"There's another dinner to get to-morrow," said Maria; "and I don'tknow what you mean by this being 'all over' when mamma gets well. Whatdifference will her getting well make? She will help, to be sure; butwe should have the same things to do--just the same."
Matilda had not reckoned on that, for she looked sober a minute or two.
"Well, Maria," she said then, clearing up, "I don't care. If Jesus hasgiven us this to do, you know, I _like_ to do it; because He has givenit to us to do."
Maria turned away impatiently.
"Maria," said her little sister, drawing nearer and speaking solemnly,"do you intend to ask Mr. Richmond to baptize you the next time he hasthe baptismal service?"
"If I do," said Maria, "_you_ need not trouble yourself about it."
And Matilda thought she had better let the subject and her sister bothalone for the present. She had got herself ready, and now taking herBible she went out. It was but a little way to the corner. There sheturned in the opposite direction from the one which would have takenher to church, and crossed the main street. In that direction, fartheron, lay the way to Lilac Lane; but at the other corner of the streetMatilda found an interruption. Somebody stopped her, whom she knew thenext instant to be Norton Laval.
"Why, it is Matilda Englefield!" he said. "You are just the one I wantto see."
"Am I?" said Matilda.
"I should think so. Come along; our house lies that way; don't yourecollect?"
"Oh, but I am not going that way now," said Matilda.
"Oh yes, but you are! Mamma says contradicting is very rude, but Ican't help it sometimes. Can you help it, Matilda?"
"People ought to be contradicted sometimes," Matilda said, with an archbridling of her head, which, to be sure, the child was quiteunconscious of.
"Not I," said Norton. "Come!"
"Oh, but I cannot, Norton. I wish I could. Not this time."
"Where are you going?"
"Up that way."
"Nobody lives up that way."
"Nobody? Just look at the houses."
"Nobody lives in those houses," said Norton.
"Oh, very well; then I am going to see nobody."
"No, Matilda; you are coming to see mamma. And I have something to showyou; a new beautiful game, which mamma has got for me; we are going toplay it on the lawn, when the grass is in order, by and by; and I wantyou to come and see it now, and learn how to play. Come, Matilda, Iwant to show it to you."
Matilda hesitated. It did not seem very easy to get rid of Norton; butwhat would become of the poor people in Lilac Lane? Would another timedo for them? Here was Norton waiting for her; and a little play wouldbe so pleasant. As she stood irresolute, Norton, putting his arm roundher affectionately, and applying a little good-humoured force, gave hershoulders without much difficulty the turn he wished them to take. Thetwo began to move down the street towards Norton's home. But as soon asthis was done, Matilda began to have qualms about her dress. Norton wasin a brown suit that fitted him, fresh and handsome; his cap satjauntily on his thick, wavy hair; he was nice from head to foot. AndMatilda had come out in the home dress she had worn while she and Mariahad been washing up the dinner dittoes. Looking down she could see alittle wet spot on the skirt now. That would dry. But then her bootswere her everyday boots, and they were a little rusty; and she had onher common school hat. The only thing new and bright about her was herBible under her arm. As her eye fell upon it, so did her companion'seye.
"What book have you got there?" he asked, and then put out his hand totake it. "A Bible! Where were you going with this, Matilda?"
"It is my Bible," said the little girl.
"Yes; but you do not take your Bible out to walk with you, do you, asbabies do their dolls?"
"Of course not."
"Then what for, Matilda?"
"Business."
"What sort of business?"
"Why do you want to know, Norton? It was private business."
"I like that," said Norton. "Why do I want to know? Because you areMatilda Englefield, and I like to know all about you."
"You do not know much yet," said Matilda, looking with a pleased look,however, up into her companion's face. It was smiling at her, with acomplacent look to match.
"I shan't know _much_ when I know all," he said. "How old are you? Youcan't make much history in ten years."
"No, not much," said Matilda. "But still--it may not be history toother people, but I think it is to one's self."
"What?"
"Oh, one's life, you know."
"But ten years is not a life," said Norton.
"It is, if one hasn't lived any longer."
"I would like my life to be history to other people," said Norton."Something worth while."
"I wouldn't like other people to know my life, though," said Matilda.
"Then could not help it, if it was something worth while," said Norton.
"Why, yes, Norton; one's life is what one thinks and feels; what nobodyknows. Not the things that everybody knows."
"It is what one _does_," said Norton; "and if you do anything worthwhile, people will know it. I wonder what there will be to tell of youand me fifty years from now?"
"Fifty years! Why, then I should be sixty-one," said Matilda; "and youwould be a good deal more than that. But perhaps we shall not live tobe so old."
"Yes, we shall," said Norton. "_I_ shall; and you must, too."
"Why, Norton, we can't _make_ ourselves live," said Matilda, in greatastonishment at this language.
"We
shall live to be old, though," said Norton. "I know it. And I wishthere may be something to be said of _me_. I don't think women ought tobe talked of."
"I do not see what good it would do anybody to be talked of, after hehas gone away out of the world," said Matilda. "Except to be talked ofin heaven. That would be good."
"In heaven!" said Norton. "Talked of in heaven! Where did you get that?"
"I don't mean that exactly," said Matilda. "But some people will."
"Who?"
"Why, a great many people, Norton. Abraham and Noah, and David, andDaniel, and the woman that put all she had into the Lord's treasury,and the woman that anointed the head of Jesus--the woman who, He said,had done what she could. I would like to have _that_ said of me, if itwas Jesus that said it."
Norton took hold of Matilda and gave her a little good-humoured shake."Stop that!" he said; "and tell me, is that why you are carrying aBible out here in the streets?"
"Oh, I haven't any use for it here, Norton."
"Then what have you got it here for?"
"Norton, there are some people in the village who are sick, or cannotread; and I was going to read to them."
"Where are they?"
"In Lilac Lane."
"Where is that?"
"You go up past the corner a good way, and just by Mr. Barth's foundryyou turn down a few steps, and turn again at the baker's. Then, alittle way further on, you strike into the lane."
"That's it, is it? I know. But do you know what sort of people live upthat way?"
"Yes."
"Well, there's another thing you _don't_ know, and that's the mud.You'd never have got out again, if you had gone to Lilac Lane to-day.It is three feet deep; and it weighs twenty pounds a foot. After youset your shoe in it, you want a windlass to get it out again."
"What is a windlass?" Matilda asked.
"Don't you know? Well, you _are_ a girl; but you are a brick. I'llteach you about a windlass, and lots of things."
"I shouldn't think you would want to teach me, _because_ I am a girl,"said Matilda.
They had reached the iron gate of Mrs. Laval's domain, walking fast asthey had talked; and in answer to Matilda's last remark, Norton openedthe gate for her, and took off his cap with an air as he held it forher to pass in. Matilda looked, smiled, and stepped past him.
"You are not like any boy I ever saw," she remarked, when he hadrecovered his cap and his place beside her.
"I hope you like me better than any one you ever saw?"
"Yes," said Matilda, "I do."
The boy's answer was to do what most boys are too shy or too proud for.He put his arms round Matilda and gave her a hearty kiss. Matilda wasgreatly surprised, and bridled a little, as if she thought Norton hadtaken a liberty; but on the whole seemed to recognise the fact thatthey were very good friends, and took this as a seal of it. Norton ledher into the house, got his croquet box, and brought her and it outagain to the little lawn before the door. Nobody else was visible. Theday was still, dry, and sunny, and though the grass was hardly greenyet and not shaven nor rolled nor anything that a croquet lawn ought tobe, still it would do, as Norton said, to look at. Matilda stood by andlistened intently, while he planted his hoops and showed his mallets,and explained to her the initial mysteries of the game. They even triedhow it would go; and there was no doubt of one thing, the time wentalmost as fast as the croquet balls.
"I must run home, Norton," Matilda said at last.
"Why? I don't think so."
"I know I must."
"Well, do you like it?" He meant the game.
"Oh, it's delightful!" was Matilda's honest exclamation. Norton pushedback his cap and looked at her, pleased on his part. It came intoMatilda's head that she ought to tell him something. Their two faceshad grown to be so friendly to each other.
"Norton," she said, gravely, "I want you to know something about me."
"Yes," said Norton. "I want to know it."
"You don't know what it is."
"That's the very thing. I _want_ to know it."
"Norton, did you ever see anybody baptized?"
"Babies," said Norton, after a moment's recollection.
"Well, if you would like to see me baptized, come to our church Sundayafter next."
"You?" said Norton. "Haven't you been baptized?"
"Not yet."
"I thought everybody was. Then if you have not been yet, why do you?Whose notion is that?"
"It is mine."
"_Your_ notion?" said Norton, examining her. "What do you mean by that,Matilda?"
"I mean, I want to be baptized; and Mr. Richmond is going to do it forme."
"What's it for? what's the use? I wouldn't if I were you."
"It is joining the church. Don't you understand, Norton?"
"Not a bit. That is something I never did understand. Do you understandit?"
"Why, yes, certainly."
"Let's hear, then," said Norton, putting up his croquet balls.
"Mr. Richmond has explained it so much, you know, I couldn't help butunderstand."
"Oh, it's Mr. Richmond, is it?"
"No; it's the Bible."
"Let's hear, then," said Norton. "Go on."
Matilda hesitated. She found a difficulty in saying all her mind tohim; she did not know whether it was best; and with that she had asuspicion that perhaps she ought to do it. She glanced at him, andlooked away, and glanced again; and tried to make up her mind. Nortonwas busy putting up his croquet hoops and mallets; but his face lookedso energetic and wide awake, and his eye was so quick and strong, thatshe was half afraid to say something that might bring an expression ofdoubt or ridicule upon it. Then Norton looked up at her again, a keenlook enough, but so full of pleasure in her that Matilda's doubts wereresolved. He would not be unkind; she would venture it.
"I want you to know about me, Norton," she began again.
"Well," said Norton, "so do I; but it seems difficult, somehow."
"You do not think that, for you are laughing."
Norton gave her another look, laughing rather more; and then he cameand stood close beside her.
"What is it, Matilda?" he asked.
"I don't want you to think that I am good," she said, looking upearnestly and timidly, "for I am not; but I want to be; and beingbaptized is a sign of belonging to the Lord Jesus, so I want to bebaptized."
"It isn't a sign of anything good," said Norton. "Lots of people arebaptized, that aren't anything else, I know. Lots of them, Matilda.That don't change them."
"No, that don't change them, Norton; but when they _are_ changed, thenthe Bible says they must be baptized."
"What for?"
"It is just telling everybody what they believe, and what they are.It's a _sign_."
"Then when you are baptized, as you mean to be, that will be tellingeverybody what _you_ believe and what you are?"
"Yes."
"It would not tell me," said Norton, "be-cause I should not understandthe sign. I wish you would tell me now in words, Matilda."
"I don't know if I can, but I'll try. You know water makes thingsclean, Norton?"
"Sometimes."
"Well, if it is used it does," said Matilda. "The water is a sign thatI believe the Lord Jesus will take away my sins, and make me clean andgood, if I trust Him; that He will wash my heart, and that He has begunto do it. And it will be a sign that I am His servant, because that iswhat He has commanded His servants."
"What?"
"That; to be baptized, and join the church."
"Matilda, a great many people are baptized, and keep all their sinsjust the same."
"Oh, but those are make-believe people."
"No, they are not; they are real people."
"I mean, they are make-believe Christians."
"How do you know but you are?"
"I _think_ I know," said Matilda, looking down.
"But other people won't know. Your being baptized will not meananything to them, only that somebody has coaxe
d you into it."
"It will mean all that, Norton; and if I am true they will _see_ itmeans all that."
"They might see it all the same without your being baptized. Whatdifference would that make?"
"It is _obedience_," said Matilda, firmly. "And not to do it would bedisobedience. And it is profession of faith; and not to do it, would beto say that I don't believe."
Norton looked amused, and pleased, and a little puzzled.
"You have not told me anything about you, after all," he said; "for Iknew it all before."
"How did you know it?"
"Not this about your being baptized, you know, but about _you_."
"What about me?"
"I say, Matilda, when will you come and play croquet again?"
"I don't know. But, O Norton, I must go now. I forgot all about it. Andthere was something else I wanted to say. I wish you would be a servantof Jesus too?"
Matilda gave this utterance a little timidly. But Norton only looked ather and smiled, and finally closed the question by taking her in hisarms and giving her two kisses this time. It was done without a bit ofshamefacedness on his part, and with the energy and the tenderness tooof affection. Matilda was extremely astonished and somewhatdiscomposed; but the evident kindness excused the freedom, and on thewhole she found nothing to object. Norton opened the iron gate for her,and she hurried off homewards without another word.
In a dream of pleasure she hurried along, feeling that Norton Laval wasa great gain to her, and that croquet was the most delightful ofamusements, and that all the weariness of the day's work was taken outof her heart. She only regretted, as she went, that those poor peoplein Lilac Lane had heard no reading; but she resolved she would go tothem to-morrow.
There is one time, however, for doing everything that ought to be done;and if that time is lost, no human calculation can make sure a secondopportunity. Matilda was to find this in the case of Lilac Lane. Thenext day weather kept her at home. The second day she was too busy togo on such an expedition. The third was Sunday. And when Monday came,all thoughts of what she had intended to do were put out of her head byher mother's condition. Mrs. Englefield was declared to be seriouslyill.
The doctor was summoned. Her fever had taken a bad turn, he said. Itwas a very bad turn; for after a few days it was found to be carryingher swiftly to death's door. She was unable to see her children, or atleast unable to recognise and speak to them, until the very last day;and then too feeble. And the Sunday when Matilda had expected to bebaptized, saw her mother's funeral instead.
Anne and Letitia came up from New York, but were obliged to returnthither immediately after the funeral; and the two younger girls wereleft to their grief. It was well for them now that they, had plenty ofbusiness, plenty of active work on hand. It was a help to Maria; aftera little it diverted her thoughts and took her out of the strain ofsorrow. And it was a help to Matilda, but in a more negative way. Itkept the child from grieving herself ill, or doing herself a mischiefwith violent sorrow; it was no relief. In every unoccupied moment,whenever the demands of household business left her free to do what shewould, the little girl bent beneath her burden of sorrow. Kneelingbefore her open Bible, her tears flowed incessantly every moment whenthe luxury of indulgence could be allowed them. Mrs. Candy did not seethe whole of this; she was rarely in the girls' room; yet she sawenough to become uneasy, and tried all that she knew to remedy it.Clarissa was kind, to her utmost power of kindness. Even Maria wasstirred to try some soothing for her little sister. But Matilda couldnot be soothed. Maria's instances and persuasions did, however, at lasturge her to the point of showing a part of her thoughts and disclosingthe thorn that pressed sharpest on her mind. It was, that she had notpleased her mother by doing her best in the studies she had pursued atschool. Matilda had always been a little self-indulgent; did nottrouble herself with study; made no effort to reach or keep a goodplace in her classes. Mrs. Englefield had urged and commanded her invain. Not obstinately, but with a sort of gay carelessness, Matilda hadlet these exhortations slip; had studied when she was interested, andlagged behind her companions in the pursuits she found dry. And now,she could not forgive herself nor cease her sorrowing on account ofthis failure.
Maria in despair at last took Mrs. Candy into her confidence, andbesought her to comfort Matilda, which Mrs. Candy tried her best to do.She represented that Matilda had always been a good child; had lovedand honoured her mother, and constantly enjoyed her favour. Matildaheard, but answered with sobs.
"I am sure, my dear," her aunt said, "you have nothing to reproachyourself with. We are none of us perfect."
"I didn't do what I could, aunt Candy!" was Matilda's answer.
"My dear, hardly anybody--the best of us--does all he might do."
"I will," said Matilda.