 30 For vain man would be wise. Wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holiest state of matrimony? Wilt thou love and honor him, cherish and comfort him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live? It was Mr. Trecevon's voice that sounded down the aisles of the Park Street Church, asking these old solemn questions. It was Del Bronson's voice, sweet, full and clear, that answered him, I will. And the minister proceeded, After these vows thus solemnly made by you both in the presence of God and these witnesses, I pronounce you husband and wife, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Let us pray. Brief and solemn was the prayer. Then the bride and groom, followed by their special friends, moved down the aisle, and the sea of heads on either side turned and looked after, and stretched their necks to get a glimpse of their new pastor and his new wife, Reverend and Mrs. Homer Nelson. The bridal party went directly to the home of Mr. Jerome's sales for the purpose of receiving their friends. Bronson from behind window blinds said, as they watched the triumphal procession, it was very strange if she had a home that she didn't go to it to get married instead of choosing a place where she hadn't a single relation, but they had always heard that she was odd. Del had canvassed this question herself. Uncle Edward's dear home stood eagerly open for her, and she would have liked it just a little better to have gone out from that home in her bridal robes, but there were other considerations. She could count by the dozen people old and poor, and with few pleasures, would never forget the joy of attending their pastor's wedding. There were certain members of her Sabbath school class, factory girls, who rarely kept holiday. Her wedding would be a marked era in their lives, and there was a certain bright eyed little maiden who would be in a perfect flutter of wondering delight over a bride in real lace and diamonds, and that was Jenny Adams. Del decided to forego the pleasures of a Boston wedding and accept the hospitalities of Mr. and Mrs. Jerome's sales. So Jenny Adams and Jim Forbes were among the invited guests at the reception. Mrs. Ainsley also was present in a perfect bewilderment still as regarded her idea of things, calling the bride Delia at one moment and apologizing in blushing infusion the next. Del at one time was reminded forcibly of another wedding at which she had been a guest. She looked about her and counted those present who had been at that other wedding. There were the Winthrops of Boston and Mr. and Mrs. Tresavant. Only Mrs. Tresavant was the bride on that other evening, and Mr. Tresavant was not the groom. There also were Mr. Nelson and herself. With a little laugh at her own folly, she changed her position and took one opposite Mr. Nelson as she remembered standing for a few moments that other evening. She remembered just how he looked then, and she was trying to trace the changes when she heard Mr. Tresavant's voice near her. I don't remember, he said. Perhaps Mrs. Nelson will recall it? Mrs. Nelson, that was a new name, how unfamiliar it sounded. She looked about her in search of a Mrs. Nelson while Mr. Tresavant asked his question and awaited his reply. Mr. Nelson came to the rescue with grave voice but Mr. Visise. Mrs. Nelson, I think you cannot have understood Mr. Tresavant's question. And the bride turned with glowing face to her questioner. She had that very moment discovered who Mrs. Nelson was. Our new bride and groom did many things outside of the conventional groove in which such people are supposed to walk. Among others they did not take a bridal tour. There were matters in his parish that seemed to claim Mr. Nelson's immediate attention. There was a special work that he wished to do before the season changed. Mr. Nelson explained the matter in characteristic fashion to the wondering Mrs. Ainsley. The fact is we are not ready to go a journey. There is nowhere in particular that we want to go just now and we do particularly want to remain at home. I never could understand why people must rush off on the cars or steamboats just as soon as they are married. Sure enough, Mrs. Ainsley said, I don't know any good reason for it. Only people always do it and it seems rather strange not to. But you are queer, Delia. I always said so when you lived with me, you know. And since I have known so much more about you, I really think you are queerer than ever. It came to pass in the course of the following winter that the people of whom Del expected to see very little, she saw a great deal. Mrs. Tresavant fell into the habit of running to advise with Mrs. Nelson on all topics of interest. Life had opened in a new channel to that little woman. For the first time she began to take an interest in things outside of herself. She had opened her eyes, Mrs. Douglas said, and discovered that there were people in the world beside Mrs. Tresavant. They were very unlike still these two ministers' wives. Mrs. Tresavant was dollish and kittenish and whatever expresses the idea of childishness yet and would probably always remain so. Religion does not change our natures, it only tones them. Mrs. Tresavant leaned and always would lean on Mrs. Nelson, the stronger nature asserted itself. The beauty of it was that she chose just that person to cling to instead of some unsafe crop. Meanwhile, life still went hard with Mr. Tresavant, all the harder because he looked upon Mr. Nelson as a powerful rival, whose influence he resented instead of accepting him as a co-worker. Moreover, this poor man was dissatisfied with himself utterly and entirely, and when a man arrives at that state and yet makes no effort and indeed has no desire to get into a better condition of heart and life, he is to be pitied. Perhaps that is hardly fair. He did indeed desire a change, but that desire was not strong enough to make him willing to admit himself in the wrong. How will it all end, Mrs. Douglas asked, in a half-pettulent, half-hopeless tone, after she had been recounting one of Mr. Tresavant's deeds that seemed more than usually absurd? Her husband answered her reverently. God knows. I, God knew. The winter Sabbath morning was very bleak and blustering. Comparatively few people were abroad. The church bells were tolling dismally as if they had not much hope of coaxing people to come out in the snow and sleep. Up in Mr. Tresavant's parlor an anxious group were assembled. Mel and her husband were over by the window conversing in undertone. Mr. Tresavant paced the floor, making vain efforts to seem self-controlled and at ease. In a low chair near the fire the pale little mother sat holding a very snowflake of a baby in her arms. He needed only to glance at the limp form and heavy eyes of the wee darling to understand why there was such a look of terror on the mother's face and why Dr. Douglas stood so sadly looking down on them both. Mrs. Tresavant suddenly broke the stillness. Oh, Carol, don't go to church today. Everybody will excuse you. Don't leave us, Carol. Of course you will be excused, Dell said impulsively. It would have been better if she had kept quiet. Her voice seemed to annoy Mr. Tresavant. Nonsense, he said impatiently. Why should I not go to church? I don't belong to the privileged class who may stay at home on account of the weather. Dr. Douglas caught an imploring glance from the poor mother's eyes and turned toward her husband. He was used at such times to having people hang on his lightest word, so he said briefly, I think you will be justified in remaining at home, Mr. Tresavant. Mr. Tresavant was exceedingly annoyed. Had they decided to do with him whatever they would, he answered hodlily. Of course my own conscience must be my justifier in the matter. I shall preach as usual. Oh, Carol, what if if you should never see our little darling again? It was his wife's pitiful tones that murmured this appeal. The father's face paled visibly, but he answered in irritation. Laura, don't be so childish. The baby is better. His breathing is easier. And I don't feel in the least alarmed at the result. You have worked yourself into a very nervous state. Not a word said Dr. Douglas, nor did he move his watchful eyes from the sweet baby face. A close observer would have drawn no crumb of comfort from the look on that doctor's face. Mr. Nelson made one more effort. As he drew on his gloves preparatory to leaving, his wife had spent the night with Mrs. Tresavant in the sick room and had decided to remain with her. He crossed over to Mr. Tresavant's side and spoke in low tones. If you want to send a message, Brother Tresavant, you know I pass your church and shall be very glad to serve you. There is plenty of time. Thank you, said Mr. Tresavant. I will walk with you as far as my church. It is nearly time for service. It was in the midst of Mr. Tresavant's sermon, which was a peculiarly eloquent one, that one of the officers of the church walked up the aisle with that peculiar movement and look which be tokened a message so important that all embarrassment at delivering it at such a time was lost. The wondering clergyman paused as his parishioner ascended the pulpit's steps, half a dozen whispered words, and Mr. Tresavant grew as pale as the marble flower stand whereon his hand rested. He staggered backward a step, then suddenly turned and went swiftly and silently down the steps, down the aisle, out the door. It was Judge Benson who had been the messenger. His voice trembled visibly as he spoke to the waiting congregation. My friends, word has come to our pastor that the angel of death is hovering around his threshold, waiting for his only son. Let us pray. It was a very quiet room into which Mr. Tresavant presently burst. His wife was sitting in very nearly the position in which he had left her, their baby in her lap. Dr. Douglas knelt in front of her, his finger feeling carefully on the limp, damp wrist for the fluttering pulse. Mrs. Nelson stood a little apart, near enough to be ready for instant service should service be required, far enough not to seem to be a watcher of the voiceless agony in the mother's face. There was no quietness about Mr. Tresavant's entrance, nor in his manner. He was nearly wild with excitement and anguish. He had more than half believed his own words in the morning, and had gone away persuaded in his own mind that his child was better. It was evident now to the most unskilled eye that death had set his seal on the beautiful baby face, but Mr. Tresavant would not believe it yet. He rung the bell furiously. He sent an imperative message after Dr. Thomas. He declared there had been nothing done for the child that they were sitting stupidly by and letting him die. Dr. Thomas came and spoke that most hateful of all hateful sentences in the Chamber of Death. It was too late to do anything, if he had been called before he might have been of service. Dr. Thomas enjoyed this sentence. It was rarely that he had opportunity to say anything in the presence of Dr. Douglas. People who had confidence in the one were apt to ignore the other. Dr. Douglas set his lips a little more firmly and schooled himself to endure in utter silence while he continued his ministrations to the dying child. Dr. Thomas talked in his loudest professional tone on the cause and effect of disease and the utter absurdity of allowing people to die. Nobody listened to him, but that seemed to make no difference. In the midst of his harangue, Mrs. Tresavant summoned her husband to her side. Carol, won't you send him away? It is of no use. Dr. Douglas has done everything, everything, but baby is going. God has called him. He is going fast, and won't you send that man away? See his voice disturbs my darling. Mr. Tresavant went slowly over to the doctor's side. It had been easier to send for him than it was to dismiss him. He went, pondering what words he should say. He was already sorry for his hasty summons. There was no time for words to him, Mrs. Tresavant spoke sharply. Carol, oh Carol, come quick. He wants to kiss you. Oh my darling, my blessed little darling! The father turned quickly, but in that brief space the precious opportunity was gone. The sweet baby lips settled into the beautiful solemn stillness of death. The bright eyes were closed. Baby's last kiss lingered fresh on his mother's lips, but the poor father missed even this consolation. CHAPTER 31 For all this I considered in my heart, even to declare all this, that the righteous and the wise and their works are in the hand of God. Then occurred one of those wondrous miracles which Grace is quietly accomplishing through this world. At least the looker's on noticed it for the first time. The child-wife and child-mother, who had yielded all her life to whatever influence possessed her most strongly at the time, looked upon the beautiful face of her dead idol and was quiet and controlled. She kissed his closed eyes, his still lips, his rings of brown hair, his dimpled hands, long-clinging kisses. She nestled his lifeless form to her in a close embrace of unutterable yearning. Then she arose and laid him on the bed, and to her husband she said, Carol, he is ours just the same, you know, only God wanted him to come nearer to him. And I do not wonder. It is not strange that Jesus loves to have him. He could not bear to have him down here in danger and sorrow. I can understand that feeling. She roped him herself for his little coffin, lingering over every button and string, pressing the small cold foot ere she drew on the dainty stocking and fastened the kid's slipper for the last time. Only Del was with her, and to her quiet offers of assistance the poor mother answered, I like to do it all myself, you know, because he was so very timid. He never liked to have anybody but me to dress him. Of course it makes no difference now, but I can't help wanting to do it. How can you be sure that it makes no difference now? Well asked, with the tears dropping quietly on the soiled garments that she was gathering, and that baby had cast off forever. Mrs. Tressavant looked up quickly, a look of wistful eagerness. Do you think it may be possible that he would rather have my hands about him than any others even now? She asked, with trembling earnestness. It cannot be wrong to think so, and I do not know why it may not be possible for him to see you, his dear mama, bending over his body. I never could understand what harm there could be in giving free reign to our imaginations about such things. We are not likely to disappoint ourselves. Neither hath it entered into the heart, you know. Oh, Del, said Mrs. Tressavant, you do say such comforting things. You make me feel as if heaven were only upstairs or behind that screen. It used to seem so very far away, but I think it has come down to me. I used to wonder how Mrs. Sales could speak of her friends who had died as if they were only next door, but I understand it this minute. My darling hasn't gone very, very far away. Poor Carol, it is hard for him. I have always heard it was harder for fathers to part with their only sons. In silent wonderment Mrs. Nelson listened to this woman who had always seemed so worldly, so full of self and so very childish. Childlike she was still, but the great unselfish eternal love had penetrated to her very soul and whitened every thought. How beautiful he is, Mrs. Tressavant said a little later, as she stood with her husband beside the white casket and looked at the pure baby face in its peaceful sleep. Carol, how lovely he must be tonight. He has been long enough in heaven to catch some of its glory. Do you feel that, Laura? Her husband asked the question abruptly, almost harshly. Feel what, she asked him in a startled tone. Feel such a sense of the reality of heaven and the certainty of his presence there that it comforts you? I do, oh I do, she answered earnestly. Once I did not. Heaven was just a great dreary blank, but it is so near to-night and I can almost see my darling right in Jesus' arms. Carol, if it were not for that, I think I should die. I do not feel it at all, he spoke sternly and stood with folded arms and white drawn face looking down at the beautiful sleeper. His wife seemed odd and shocked. In all her own heart wanderings, or more properly heart ignorance, she had always convinced herself of her husband as standing on the heights of Christian knowledge and privilege. He, a minister of the gospel, must surely be safe and at peace. She had felt much the same since her own great enlightening, never imagining for a moment that his faith might be very dim. Now she seemed not to know what to say, so she softly touched the hand that rested on the table before her and was silent. It is all gloom, he said, breaking the silence. I cannot realize anything but death. That is real enough and awful enough. As for the rest it sometimes seems to me as if there were no such places heaven. That is a dreadful feeling, his wife said, catching her breath and speaking quickly. Dreadful, I know all about it. I felt so that time, you know, when I went forward in Mr. Nelson's church. Poor Carol, if you feel that way, I don't know how you can bear it. I do not know what would become of me. O Carol, you must have Christ to help you, or you cannot endure it. Mr. Tressavant went alone to the death chamber that night and paced up and down the silent room in agony of spirit. It is all blank, all blank, he groaned. I don't know where to turn. Laura has a support that I know nothing about, and yet I am a Christian. I surely am a Christian. I cannot have been preaching the gospel for so many years, and yet know nothing about it. O God, have mercy on me. My heart's idle is shattered, and I have no prop to lean upon, nothing but blackness. The Regent Street Church bell tolled and tolled on Thursday evening. Passersby wondered if that bell was going to toll all night, and the people sitting within the lecture room wondered if the one for whom it was tolling was never going to appear. It was not an unusual thing for Mr. Tressavant to be a few minutes late, but now it grew to be ten, fifteen, twenty minutes after the hour. Dr. Douglas and Judge Benson whispered together, and then both went and whispered to Mr. Sales. Then Mr. Sales leaned forward and questioned Mrs. Tressavant. She knew nothing about her absent husband. He had been away since dinner. She had waited tea for him, and finally had gone down without him. Had gone out after tea to Mrs. Nelson's, expecting to return in a few minutes, but had been detained until the bell tolled, and had come immediately to church, expecting to meet her husband there. Finally, Dr. Douglas went forward to the pastor's seat. Some unusual circumstance must have delayed their pastor, he said, and it was thought best not to wait longer but to commence the meeting. Shortly half an hour afterward the chapel door swung quietly on its hinges, and Mr. Tressavant came with swift steps down the aisle. His face was very pale, and there was a strange light in his eyes. Dr. Douglas arose to resign his seat, and was peremptorily motioned back while Mr. Tressavant took a seat in the front pew. The wondering and embarrassed doctor resumed his seat and his hymn-book, and Judge Benson cut short the remarks he was making and sat down. Sing just as I am, said the pastor, as Dr. Douglas turned the leaves in bewilderment, and after they had sung it, Mr. Tressavant arose and turned his pale face toward the waiting congregation. I have done so, he said, speaking with difficulty and in a trembling voice. Dear friends, I want to confess to you. I have been a blind leader. I have gone astray. My heart has been full of pride and worldliness and selfishness professing to be wise in Christ. I have not followed his example in any way. I have done you a great wrong. I did not know where I stood. I did not realize, in the least, what I was doing, until God arrested my footsteps. He sent an angel into our household to help me, but I made an idol of it and called it mine. Often, I think, when I knelt to pray, I worshipped at my boy's cradle instead of lifting my thoughts higher. Then the Father in Heaven looked on me in pity and took my darling away. For a time I felt as if earth and heaven were both blotted out, as if there were nothing anywhere but death, and I craved that. But God is merciful. He has not utterly cast me off. He has come close to me and held out his hands. I have been groping in the dark for years and years, but his blessed love has reached after me, and I feel tonight that though I am weak and trembling, but a babe in Christ instead of having years of Christian experience, yet I am in Christ. I have not felt that to a certainty in a long time, perhaps not in years, but the preciousness of the Christian faith surrounds me tonight, just as I am without one plea. Dear Christian friends, I believe God has forgiven me for all the wretched, blundering work that I have made during these years. Now I want to ask your forgiveness. I feel that I have injured you as a church. I have been a stumbling block in your way. I pray you for the sake of Christ, who has forgiven so much, to forgive your pastor. Long before he had ceased speaking, every head was bowed, and tears and sobs seemed to come from every heart. Let us pray, said Mr. Sales, the moment Mr. Trassevant resumed his seat, and none had ever heard Mr. Sales pray as he did then for pastor and people. Now all this happened three years ago. I cannot tell you of the intervening time, but the other evening there was a wedding in which you will be interested. Not a great many guests, but several with whom you are acquainted. The bride was in simple white muslin with very few decorations, but her eyes flashed like diamonds and her lips glowed like rubies, and her name is, or was, before Mr. Trassevant said a few words to her, Jenny Adams. It is strange what power these ministers possess. Mr. Trassevant was not three minutes in saying what he had to say, and yet thereafter they called Jenny Adams Mrs. Forbes. Ah, you should have seen the transformation in her husband. Mrs. Nelson, looking upon him and sending her thoughts back over the past, wished she might summon his former acquaintances from Lewiston to behold him now. The fact is that Mr. Forbes, in his new and well-fitting bridal suit, was undeniably a handsome man, as unlike as possible to the Jim Forbes who used to shamble through the straggling street of Lewiston in his soiled shirt sleeves. A rising man was Mr. Forbes. In the great factories he stood second in power to Mr. Sales himself. In the Mission Sabbath School he was assistant superintendent. In the Church Sabbath School he was one of the successful Bible-class teachers. In short Lewiston would never have recognized its old friend in the strongly built, strong-faced, heavily bearded, tastefully dressed bridegroom. Among the guests at the wedding were Mr. and Mrs. Edward Stockwell and Mr. Merrill. The latter had a gift to present to the bridegroom, a dainty and elegant and altogether perfect gold watch and chain. Great was Mr. Forbes' astonishment over this gift. Mr. Merrill had sought him out years ago and evinced an unaccountable interest in him but that the interest should climax in so costly a gift as this filled him with surprise. He was trying to express something of this feeling together with the gratitude in his heart. I don't know, he said, in his simple earnest fashion. I can't think how I came to have so many friends. I've had a great many all my life, it seems to me, but I think I find new ones every day. I don't know how it is. Do you hope to have a great many surprises when you get to heaven? Mr. Merrill asked the question which seemed such an abrupt transition from the subject and Mr. Forbes' eyes brightened as they always did at the mention of that dear home that was so real a thing to him. Surprises, he said inquiringly, I don't know that I quite take your idea. Yes, I expect surprises of happiness because you know I have not seen nor ear heard. But do you expect anyone to come to you and say, if it had not been for what you said and did at such a time, I would never have been here? The brightness glowed in Mr. Forbes' eyes now. I can't say that I expect it, he answered speaking eagerly. But sometimes I hope for it and occasionally I try to fancy how I should feel if I knew that I had been the means of leading one soul to Jesus. Do you know of no such instance? Mr. Forbes shook his head. No, he said humbly. I can't say that I do. I know of some that I hope I helped a little and my wife thinks I led her to become a Christian, but it was Mrs. Sales and Mrs. Nelson more than it was me. No, I am not sure of a single one. Let me make you sure then. I know of a certainty that words of yours led me to the light and joy of the Christian religion, and I expect to thank you for it through a blessed eternity. The earnest manly face was beautiful now. The surprise, the joy, the unspeakable thankfulness glowed in every feature, and as he listened to the story of the Sunday school lesson, explained so long ago, there were tears in his eyes as he said, I remember it perfectly, Johnny Fellows the boy was. He has gone west, but I think he's a Christian. He writes to me, good letters, I had one yesterday. Mr. Merrill, I shall never look at this watch without thinking what a wonderful honor the Lord has given me. I thank you for telling me, I feel helped. Mr. Edward Stockwell, Uncle Edward rather, as we in Dell have loved to call him, came over to where the two were standing. The passing years had brought great worldly honors to that good man. His story almost seemed a later addition of that one of old wherein God gave to his servant Job such an increase of prosperity. Very peculiar had been Mr. Stockwell's reverses, and equally peculiar was his rapid rise. Every scheme had prospered, every experiment had proved a marked success, and finally the firm which had carried under with it a large amount of his former wealth had suddenly righted itself and paid dollar for dollar, so even among the Boston millions he ranked again a millionaire. His hair was just a trifle grayer, and perhaps the sweet dignity in his face had deepened. It is not everyone tried in the fire who comes out such shining gold. This is not a proper time for business, he said, laying a kind hand on the bridegroom's shoulder, and I am sorry that it is imperative that I must leave for Boston tonight. That being the case, you must let me set straight that little money matter between us. Mr. Forbes remembered me in my time of need, and only those who have passed through such times know how thankful we are for friends then. Mr. Merrill, to whom this last sentence was addressed, smiled and bowed and left them. Mr. Forbes' face flushed painfully. I never meant to have anything said about that, he said, in an embarrassed tone. It was such a very trifle if I had known as much about business as I do now I would not have presumed to send it. I hope you won't notice it, Mr. Stockwell. It was very kind and thoughtful, Mr. Stockwell answered in his frank cordial tone, in which not a note of condescension was visible. I thank you for it now as I did then, to say nothing about it would not be fair nor right. I want to tell you about it. There came to me an opportunity to invest that money in a most satisfactory manner, and almost immediately after its arrival circumstances occurred that made it unnecessary for me to make personal use of it, so I determined to experiment with it, and the result has exceeded my own expectations. I cannot resist the belief that the Lord has peculiarly blessed that money, and I take the greatest pleasure in returning it to you to-night with what it has earned and a little gift of my own, knowing as I do that you will consider all money as belonging to your master. In vain did Mr. Forbes study the crisp stamped paper that was placed in his hands, the tears that blinded his eyes prevented his making out the figures. Not so, Rob Adams. Rob had arrived at that interesting and remarkable age when boys are everywhere and know everything. Not a word of Mr. Stockwell had escaped his sharp ears. Now he managed to get one glimpse with his sharp eyes of the magic figures, then he made a trumpet of his hands and whistled through them as softly as the circumstances of the case would admit, and stood first on one foot and then on the other, by way of exhibiting his glee. Presently he made his way around to his sister's side and whispered in her ear, What do you think of that, Jenny? Isn't he a brick? I tell you, that is what I call jolly, the tallest thing I ever heard. Rob, what are you talking about? The pretty little bride said, a dainty pink flush on her fair cheek. Aha! Wouldn't you like to know? You haven't seen it yet. The choicest bit of writing you ever laid eyes on, ten thousand dollars. That's what it is in black and white, all written out in dainty flourishes. I sighed the prettiest sight a fellow ever saw when his own names mixed up with it as Jim's is. Jolly! I wish I had ten cents to lend to somebody. Del, said Mr. Nelson softly, as he stood for a moment beside his wife, do you remember the first evening that that young man shambled into our temperance meeting out there in Lewiston? I was thinking of that very thing. I can see just how he looked. Did you ever see a greater change? Mr. Tressavon's thoughts were turned in the same direction. He came to Mrs. Nelson's side. There has been a great transformation, has there not, he said, his eyes resting on the bridegroom. Very great, Del, said, does it seem remarkable to you? I do not know that it does. The grace of God seems so wonderful to me that no transformation seems so great to hope for, to look for. And Del looking at him, looking at his wife, thinking of old times and of new times, did not wonder that he was not surprised.