 CHAPTER XVI But he knoweth the way that I take. Mr. Tressavant stood over by the mantle, leaning his arm on it and resting one hand on his head. His face was very pale and his lips were pressed tightly together as if he were trying to control some strong feeling. They all sat in a low chair at a little distance, nervously picking to pieces a great pink rose chowering the leaves about the floor in reckless fashion. The pink on her cheek was deepened to a vivid crimson and the hands that pulled apart the heart of the rose trembled visibly. When Mr. Tressavant finally spoke, his voice was low and constrained. It is a most singular idea of duty, one that I cannot comprehend. I trust too entirely in your truth to believe for a moment that it is a flimsy excuse and that you are hiding your real feelings from me, but is it not a very trivial question to come between us? Not trivial to me, Mr. Tressavant. I thought you understood my position on this question. I have surely reason to consider it in a very solemn light. But, Del, I do not interfere with your views on the question. I have even told you that I respect them. What more would you have? But are you not in sympathy with them? That is, I do not carry my ideas to the same length that you do. Surely as a sensible woman, you do not require this of any man. I do not ask it of you. I ask it, she said, with trembling lips. On this one subject I ask it. I need it. I dare not do without it. Del, said Mr. Tressavant, and there was a touch of bitterness in the sarcasm of his tone. Do you really consider me in danger of becoming a drunkard because I do not deem it proper to sign a total abstinence pledge? His tone seemed to give her strength. She gave him the benefit of a full look into the depths of her great earnest eyes as she answered slowly and steadily. I do not consider even that impossible. I have known men as secure as you seem to be who have fallen victims. I do not consider any man absolutely safe who is not an absolute foe to liquor in all its forms. But it is not that phase of the difficulty that presents itself most forcibly to me. We are truly not in sympathy in regard to this thing. I have felt it keenly during the progress of our acquaintance. How much more sharply do you think I would feel it if my life were part of yours? There is another thing. I cannot feel that your views in regard to this subject are right. I cannot feel that God will bless you in them. You stand in the way of men who you know are in danger even if you are not, and you do not put forth a helping finger. You even by your silence and example encourage them in their evil way. You do this very thing with Mr. Elliot. You must know that he is in danger, and you know what an influence you have over him. Yet, how do you use it? And I look on and am powerless to help it, and sometimes it almost drives me wild. How do you think I could endure it under other circumstances? You exaggerate difficulties, he said, struggling with his own heart and trying to speak calmly. It is your nature to do so. You are excitable, easily moved to extremes, and you see mountains where there are only molehills. Young Elliot, for instance, is safe enough, a little fast for a young man in his position, but I am doing what I can to restrain him and hope to succeed in the end. Yet I do not think I deserve to be judged so harshly as you are judging me. I am trying in my way to do good in the world if it is not quite like your way. May not the master own it after all? Dahl's voice was very humble in answer. I do not want you or anyone to work in my way. I don't want to choose my way of working. I have asked God to show me his way. It is not a method of work but a principle of which we are speaking now. I consider total abstinence from everything that intoxicates a solemn Christian duty. You do not think any such thing. Now, Mr. Tresavond, how could we agree? By agreeing to disagree, you have a full and perfect right to think as you do, and, thinking so, are right in working to your views of duty. I accord this right to you. Can you not do the same by me? But can we both be right and both moving in opposite directions? Is there then no such thing as an enlightened conscience guiding toward the only right way? If I choose to think that making calls and visits on the Sabbath is a proper thing to do, have I full and perfect right to do so, and would you accord me that right? The cases are not parallel in the least, he said, changing his position uneasily. The one is a plain scripture injunction which we have no right to question. The other is at least only a difference of opinion. Now you have reached the very point where we should differ the most. I consider the one scripture injunction as plain and unquestionable as the other. When I hear my own poor father quoting the fact that you drink cider as an excuse for his business and his habits, can you wonder that I think the solemn declaration, if me to make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, as binding upon Christians as that other command, remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy? The first is not it is true in the form of a command, but should a Christian follow only commands without regard to the spirit of the gospel? That is true, he said gently, but Del, the precise path in which a man should walk is not always marked out for him in the Bible. He is left to be guided by his conscience, and you must learn to think that those who differ from your peculiar views may be conscientious in doing so. Perhaps, he added, with a sickly attempt at a smile, it may be part of your mission to reform me. I will try to be a faithful pupil, won't you take me in hand? But Del could not control her voice to answer him lightly. A sudden mist swam before her eyes. She looked down at the rose-leaves in utter silence. Her companion turned suddenly from his position by the mantel, pushed an ottoman just in front of her, and sat down. Del, he said, and his voice was gentleness and tenderness itself. Dear friend, won't you think this all over again and see if you can afford for a mere trifling difference of opinion to blast your life and mine? You have told me that you loved me, and surely I have offered you no mean gift, the strong, true, abiding love of a manly heart. I feel that I need you. I need your help and sympathy in my work. I believe that God would bless us in our efforts to work unitedly for him. It cannot be possible that you will let a very trifle come between us. Can you afford to be so indifferent to God's crowning gift, human love? The deep crimson glow went out entirely from Del's cheek, leaving it marble-like in its whiteness. A vivid sense of the desolateness and unlovingness of her life rushed over her. A vivid sense of the fullness of love and care and protection that this strong human arm offered for her to lean upon surged in upon her. Why not let herself be so blessed? Why should she be shut out from this crowning gift of God? She trembled with the great longing to follow the pleading of her own heart. Why not? He was a good man, a Christian man. She did not doubt in the least. Why let this trifle separate them? It was a trifle, surely. From the not-distant bar room came sounds of drunken revelry, voices many and loud, some oaths mingling with the coarse words and laughter. Her father's voice distinctly marked above the others came full upon her ear, loud and thick like a man half drunken. She shivered with pain. If all that could be banished from the world, what a father he might be. How many fathers, yes, and how many husbands might be saved. Yet here was this man sitting before her, his pale, pure face looking anxiously into hers. This man, who was almost her promised husband, thought the temperance movement throughout the land a misguided sort of fanaticism, thought that men might be educated to a moderate Christian use of liquors as of many other things that became improper if indulged in without restraint. Should she, whose life was pledged for a hand-to-hand struggle with what she believed to be the monster evil of the world, link that life with such lukewarmness as this? She drew a long, heavy sigh, then bending slightly forward, spoke with the tremulousness of suppressed emotion, not of indecision. Mr. Tresavant, I feel to my very soul the honor you have done me. I have given you proof of that, in that I have confessed to you that my heart answers, as my conscience will not. My life is pledged to a certain work in which you do not believe. I feel that I could not do that work which I have promised God to try to do if I became your wife. It is incomprehensible to me, he said in a low-placid tone, after a few moments of utter silence. It is incomprehensible to me, if you feel toward me what you profess, that you can let this strange chimera come between us. She looked at him searchingly, and after a moment spoke timidly. Is it any stranger than that you, professing to think almost as I do, should not be willing to yield one inch of your views to help me in what is such a solemn, terrible thing to me? Mr. Tresavant pushed his seat back with a sudden jerk. He was not a meek man by nature. He had been greatly humiliated that evening. He had been keeping himself under control for the past two hours. He spoke quickly and bitterly. I will not be forced into signing a pledge for any woman on earth, not even you. A perfect shower of rose-leaves torn in tiny bits fell at his feet, and Del sat erect and with clear, steady eyes looked into his. She was not meek by nature, either, not she. And she had the advantage of him in that she knew he stood on the weaker side and could not argue even to his own satisfaction in favor of his position. Her voice was clear and firm. Even Mr. Tresavant, we seem to understand each other. I can only repeat what I have told you before. I can never marry a man who will not array himself on the side of God and humanity in fighting against this awful wickedness. Mr. Tresavant arose without another word, walked over to a side table and possessed himself of his hat, then came back to Del and spoke in low husky tones, goodbye, to which he received no answer and seemed to expect none, for he turned away and went swiftly out at the open door and down the street. As for Del, you think she leaned on the window seat and shed hot-fitter tears. She didn't, such was not her nature. She looked at the fastenings of the blinds, drew down the shades, turned on the flame of the lamp a little more, noticing for the first time that it smoked. Then she went to the kitchen and gave her directions to Sally about the morning meal, as composedly as if she did not realize that she had just put from her the dearest and best thing that earthly life could ever offer her, stopping on her way back to seed that her father's room was in complete and dainty order. Arrived at her own room, she locked herself in, turned down the light to the lowest point that its smoky propensities would tolerate, and sat down to look the events of the evening squarely in the face. Nonetheless for her outward composure did she carry a very heavy heart. The long blank future stretched out dullly before her. She had turned away from the joy and blessedness that were held out for her. She realized in all its fullness what she might have been. She was not sorry for her evening's work, not in the least. She had nerved herself for the task. Her words had not been spoken under the impulse of the moment. They had been carefully and painfully and prayerfully gone over, when she saw that this question was to come to her. A little lingering hope there might have been that Mr. Trecevon's prejudices were not so deeply rooted as they had seemed, that he was more in sympathy with her work than she had thought, but never in instant hesitancy as to her duty in the matter, except during that one breathless moment down in the parlor. That was all past. She was very quiet, not regretful. She had asked God to show her the right way, and she believed fully and firmly that he had. So there was nothing to regret. But she could not help thinking that three score and ten was a very long time for people to live. She even wondered sadly what those people did who had to live seven, eight, and nine hundred years in the olden time. She was thankful that no such lot would be hers. There was a great deal of work to do, and she must not shirk it. But when it was all done, or better still, if the time should come soon for her to leave at all, come through no seeking of hers but because the king wanted his daughter at court and called her home, how pleasant it would be. She had no tears to shed. Her heart felt too heavy for tears. But she took her one unfailing friend, her little well-worn Bible, and turned its leaves rapidly, no loitering tonight over precious verses here and there. She knew what she needed tonight and turned straight to it. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. She felt herself in trouble. She had asked to be led. She felt that God was leading her. She did not murmur, but the way he had chosen for her feet seemed very hard. CHAPTER 17 LITTLE MANY'S DEATH How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past finding out. All day long had Del Bronson been in and out of Sam Miller's home, moving with that quick yet softly tread, which betokens that there is much to do and need for that sort of quietness that prevails when a solemn stranger is being entertained. She had spent much time there during the last three days. She came in now bearing a host of white flowers and went with them to the inner room. Mrs. Mason followed her and the two stood together looking down on Little Mamie. The child had never lain in so beautiful a resting place before, and surely no sleep could be sounder or sweeter than that which held the eyelids closed and raised a faint pure smile around the quiet mouth. Little Mamie had suffered her last stroke for the cause of rum. She would never shiver and pale again because of her father's unsteady step. In her little delicate coffin she slept undisturbed. Del showered the flowers over her, placed a tiny white bud in her little wax in hand, then stood waiting in pitying silence while the poor desolate mother studied through blinding tears the features of her lost darling. She is too sweet to be put in the ground, she moaned, only see what a smile on her face, and she holds the flower just as though she was looking at it when she dropped asleep. Oh, I can't have her buried in the ground. Oh, Miss Bronson, she is too sweet and pretty for that. She is not too sweet for heaven, Del said tenderly. You must not think of her as buried in the ground. You cannot imagine how beautiful the place is that she has gone to. But Mrs. Miller's heart was too sore for comfort. I wanted her to live, she sobbed. I needed her. I knew that she could do what I couldn't. She was fond of her father, Miss Bronson. You can't think how she loved him and he loved her too. Folks needn't think he didn't, for he did. He was like a lamb with her always when he was himself, and she could coax him to do most anything she wanted him to. She had begun to coax him to go to them temperance meetings of yours, and Miss Bronson, you know, he went once. And I know she could have got him over on the right side if she could only have lived, but now he'll go to ruin faster than ever, and God knows I wish I was dead and laid in the coffin with my darling. And then the great scalding tears burst forth afresh and dropped on the waxen face before her. So natural the little one looked that it seemed like she would put up her hand to wipe away the tears. What was there for Del to say? The way looked dark enough, certainly. The mother's one comfort in life had been her fair-haired, sweet-faced, gentle-voiced Mamie. And Del knew how, aside from all the deeps of love that the mother heart lavished on her one lamb, there was always the hope that the father would be won over from his evil ways by this child. He loved her. Del, who had seen them often together, did not in the least doubt it. And now nothing seemed more probable than that, stung by terrible remorse, goaded by every separate blow that he ever let fall on the frail body, stung especially by those last blows only the night before Mamie was taken sick, he would plunge recklessly into drink to drown his wretchedness. It was a dark, dark way. She could not wonder that the poor mother wept and moaned over this open coffin, refusing to be comforted. There was but one ray of comfort. She turned again and again to that. But Mrs. Miller think, you have not lost her, she has only gone a little way, and isn't it good to remember that she will never suffer any more? You know, this last spoke in hesitatingly, for she knew she was treading on sensitive ground. You know she had a great deal to suffer here, and that is all over now. No more pain or trouble of any kind for little Mamie. Mrs. Miller rose up from her crouching posture beside the coffin and dried her eyes while she spoke rapidly, almost fiercely. You don't understand, Miss Bronson. You didn't know my Mamie as I knew her. She would have borne everything that she did, yes, and a great deal more to save her father. That was her one thought day and night. I don't understand it at all. I tried to. I tried to take in what you've said to me about God hearing our prayers, and I've tried to pray. The other night I prayed all night long to him to save my Mamie's life for her poor father's sake, and it all did no good. Here she lies dead, and her father will go to ruin. I suppose it must be so, but I can't understand it. I can't believe that she will be happy up there in heaven when she looks down and sees her father and mother miserable. She loved us so, you know. Poor morning mother. She had built her hopes on this fair bit of clay that lay motionless before her, and now she had nothing on which to cling. Del stood looking at her with great sad eyes, uncertain what to say or whether it would be well to say anything. At last she ventured timidly. Mrs. Miller, there is one verse in the Bible that comforts me more than almost any other. His ways are not as our ways, it says, and I think of that constantly. When I make plans and God seems to come in between them and brush them all away, then I remember that he can certainly plan better than I, and that he wants the people whom I am trying to help, wants them for his own, you know, a great deal more than I possibly can, and that quiets me. Mrs. Miller only dimly understood her meaning. She knew nothing of the abiding trust that lived in Del's heart, but she knew that Del's father was in the same awful snare as her husband, and she knew that Del's heart was heavy over it. She had come to understand the young girl during these months. They were waging war against a common foe, and while she worked for her father, Mrs. Miller knew that she still had given time and thought to Mamie's father, thus it was that she had let this girl dress little Mamie for the last time and lay her in her coffin bed and cover her with flowers. Everything was done now, and already the people were beginning to gather to the funeral, so Del drew the poor mother away. What a pitiful thing it was, yet what a wonderful thing this human love! Here was this mother looking her last on her one treasure, her only child, yet mourning chiefly even then for her husband, who had surely been the means of placing her thus early in her narrow bed, as though one of his cruel blows had sent her suddenly to join the dead. The house had been very neatly and even tastefully arranged. Del had tried to give it as little as possible the appearance of a drunkard's home. The burden was heavy enough to bear without exposing the wounds more than was necessary to the outside world. The people were few and scattering who came to little Mamie Miller's funeral. This emeline Elliot led the choir, but she did not come, neither did the choir. But the mother had said only a little while before, couldn't they sing a hymn, do you think? Mamie loved to hear singing so much. And Del had answered unhesitatingly, yes they would sing a hymn. So now she looked about her, somewhat startled to find that no choir appeared. It was the usual custom she knew in Lewiston. It had not occurred to her that they would not be likely to come because it was only Sam Miller's child. So when, after much looking about her and much questioning of Tommy Truman, she began to understand the matter, she turned with flashing eyes to Mr. Tresivant. She had not seen him save from the pulpit since that evening when he bade her goodbye three weeks before. But she spoke to him at this time as though she had seen him but yesterday. Mr. Tresivant, Mrs. Miller wishes to have singing. I don't know how to manage it, he said, looking troubled. If I had known it before, I would have tried to induce some of the choir to come, but there is not one of them here. I can manage it, Del said briefly. I will sing. Will you wish to sing entirely alone? He asked her in a startled way. No, she said, looking past him toward the doorway where someone was entering, Mr. Forbes will sing with me. Now it chanced that Jim Forbes, mindful of his old friendship for Sam Miller and of sundry red-cheeked apples that he had given little Mamie, thereby winning himself to love her, had asked and obtained an hour's leave of absence to attend the funeral, and had also chanced that Del, sitting beside him in Sabbath school, had occasionally heard him burst forth into splendid song, so now she went forward at once to claim his assistance. He was startled and confused and gratified all in one. But, Miss Bronson, I can't sing anything that you can, he said, blushing fiercely. Then I will sing something that you can, she answered quickly. You can sing, there is sweet rest in heaven, for I've heard you. Well, we will sing that. But, said Mr. Tresavante, on being informed of the selection, do you think that will be quite appropriate for so young a child? Yes, said Del, with stern eyes and firmly set lips, entirely so, if anyone ever needed rest from the heavy burdens of life it is poor little Mamie. So it came to pass that never was a sweeter and tenderer requiem more sweetly sung than that which floated around Mamie Miller's coffin. But Del tried in vain to soften the despairing feelings in her heart, and find appropriateness to the services that followed. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord, quoted the clergyman. And Del thought of the bruises and scars all over the poor little body, and felt rebelliously that rum had taken her away. When he talked of the providence of God, she thought drearily of the bottle of rum in Sam Miller's closet. In vain she tried to make the service seem other than sacrilege. Her faith was strong enough to grasp the thought that dear little Mamie was at rest, but it seemed to her overwrought heart that it was the earthly father's cruelty, not the heavenly father's love, that had taken her from earth. Very dark looked the world. Sam Miller's heavy, half averted face and bloodshot eyes, and the bowed mother's look of absolute despair, were alike suggestive of bloom and hopelessness. And the clergyman's smooth, gentle tones, as he dwelt upon the great army of little children redeemed unto God, jarred painfully. The little children were safe and glad. Yes, she believed that, but the fathers, such as these who had abused their trust, and made it impossible that their little ones should stay with them, should they be soothed to rest and sleep by the words of peace? Ah, me! Dal was down in the depths where so many Christians often fall. She had lost sight of the thought that in spite of the woe and want and wickedness and weariness of this wicked world, God reigns. Well, the very small procession followed Mamie to that little grave under a maple tree, and the father bit his white lips until the blood came on them, and the mother moaned in the very bitterness of desolation as they lowered that tiny coffin, and the minister's calm voice said, Earth to earth and ashes to ashes and dust to dust, and then they went back to the dreary house, the father and mother and Dal. All the rest went away to their work, to their study, to their play. But Dal came back and set the chairs in less formal array, and drew up the paper shades, and put away in a little box one small wreath that had lain on Mamie's breast, put it with a curl of hair and a little speck of a locket that Mamie had worn and loved, and made a cup of tea and a bit of toast that the poor mother could not eat. Finally she must go home. They would have to take up their burden of living alone. She could not help it. There was no excuse for longer tarrying. Out on the gate, through which she would have to pass, leaned Sam Miller. She was sorry for that. The stricken mother might have pity in her heart for him, but Dal felt little. Her heart was bitter toward him. She did not want to meet him or speak to him. He held open the gate for her to pass, and as she was doing so, swiftly and with a silent bow, he stopped her. Miss Bronson, I suppose your father can do without me tonight, he said hesitatingly. Yes, Dal said. He would not be expected that night. There was something else, he said, as she was moving on. I think, I mean, will you tell your father that he will have to get someone else to do his work after this? I can't come there any more. Dal turned eager, hopeful eyes upon his face. I am so glad to hear you say so, she said earnestly. I have been hoping you would find better work. Where are you going? I don't know, he said, with a grave determined face. I haven't got to that yet. I only know what I ain't going to do, and I'll tell you what it is, Miss Bronson, because I think you will be glad to know. I ain't going to touch another drop of rum, so help me, God. I promised my little Mamie that when I was all alone with her a few minutes the night before she died, and I mean to keep the promise. My wife don't know anything about it yet, but Mamie knows, and God knows. It is impossible to give you an idea of the solemnity of Sam Miller's tones. They impressed Del with a sense of respect, such as she had certainly never felt before for him, and also a certain sense of awe as if he were being sustained and strengthened by some unforeseen power. She held out her hand to him, having no words to say. He grasped it eagerly, and then asked in a very quiet, determined tone, Have you got your pledge book about you, Miss Bronson? I mean to sign the pledge, and I'd like to do it tonight, partly because I shall feel stronger after it's done, and then I think Mamie would like it. And your wife, Del, said, as she drew forth her unfailing pocket companion, a tiny black-covered pledge book. Why, Sam, only think what a world of comfort you are going to bring to her sad heart tonight. Yes, it will comfort her. Mamie thought of that, too. She planned that I should tell her after we come back from her grave. Then he rested the little pledge book on the post of the gate, and wrote with steady hand the name Samuel Miller. Home through the deepening twilight's bed, Del, home and up to the quiet of her own room, her heart was in a tremble of thanksgiving and self-recroach, how utterly she had just trusted her father. With the very weapon which she in her wisdom had felt sure would destroy, God had spoken to the soul in danger and turned his footsteps, and Del sought her knees in thankful and repentant prayer. End of Chapter 17, Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 18 of The King's Daughter. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The King's Daughter by Pansy. Chapter 18, Signing the Pledge a Second Time. My son, give me thine heart and let thine eyes observe my ways. Jim Forbes had taken even less pains than usual with his dress. His coat was out at both elbows and very much frayed and soiled at the wrists, and he loathed along in a reckless fashion, as though he knew he was looking his worst and didn't care. His companion was fresh and dainty in a newly ironed blue and white muslin of delicate pattern, soft filmy laces at throat and wrists, and a spray of mignonette shedding faint perfume all about her. The conversation on her part was earnest, with him at partook of his general appearance and seemed reckless. When a fellow has give up, why, that's the end, and there's no more use of talking. I tried it, you know I did, and it was no kind of use, and now I'm just give up. But Mr. Forbes, I don't believe in any such doctrine, you know. I want you to try again. No one ever accomplished much with one's trying. Once, he repeated fiercely, I've tried a thousand times. You don't know anything about it, Ms. Bronson. No woman don't. I thought I'd rather cut my hand off than to break that pledge, and now I've gone and done it, and there's no use in talking. Let's act, then, instead of talking, Del said in her briskest tone, you come right down to the temperance meeting with me and sign the pledge over again. Then everybody will see that you are in earnest. Jim shook his head emphatically. No, ma'am, I ain't going to do it. Whatever I be, I ain't the fellow to make promises and go back on them and make them over again as easy as that. I don't go over all this trouble again for nobody. Then, Del said with a weary sigh, you will disappoint me sadly. I trusted you. I was not certain that you would get along without failures because I know about the fearful temptations to which you are exposed, although you think I do not. You seem to forget where I live and who my father is, but I felt confident that you would try again. Jim Forbes looked down at the sad young face with a sort of respectful curiosity in his gaze. I'd not disappoint you if I could help it. I'd rather be hung than do it, he said at last, with a rough attempt at gallantry. But you see how it is. I can't be anybody and I ain't going to pretend I can. Mr. Forbes, won't you try once more to gratify me? Then supposing I do and fail again, he said abruptly, a half-determination expressed in his eye to do both, the trying and the failing immediately, and so afford proof of his inability to be anybody. Why then, said Del promptly, I should want you to try again. Whereupon Jim laughed, his bitter spirit was not entirely proof against her fresh brisk tones and words. Besides, she said eagerly, wanting to follow up her advantage, it is such a wretched time now to desert the field, just when you are needed. Don't you know Sam Miller needs your help? My help snorted Jim with his most scornful tone, all the bitterness returning. Jolly help I'd be to any poor wretch, and whose help do you suppose I need to keep me straight while I'm helping others? God, said Del, simply and reverently, to which he made no sort of answer. He had long ago ceased sneering at the name, at least in Del's presence. They walked on a few steps in silence. Meantime, Mr. Tressavant and Ms. Emmeline Elliott passed them, and Del, intent on her work as she was, had time to notice the weary pale look on the clergyman's face and to indulge one sharp pang of pity over the desolation of both his life and hers, ere she turned again to Jim and asked her earnest question. Won't you make another trial rather than disappoint me, Mr. Forbes? I can't do it tonight, he said doubtfully. Why, Ms. Bronson, you don't know the whole. You wouldn't want me to if you did. I, I, lowering his voice and his face turning very red, I've been drinking this very night, and all the fellows know it, and if I should go down there, anybody who stood near me would smell rum, and you see how that would look. I know all about that, Del, said calmly. I knew you had been drinking when I first met you. I knew you were on your way to drink more. Do you think people who have been drinking liquor got not to go to a temperance meeting or make up their minds to sign a pledge? I'm sure they are the very people I am after. As for the breath, I have my pocket half full of cloves. They will destroy the smell of whiskey. Mr. Forbes, will you go with me this evening? Yes, said Jim, with a sudden determination gleaming in his eye. Yes, I will, I vom. They were very near the church now, and at the door Jim halted. You go on in, he said gruffly, I'll come pretty soon. And Del, deciding that to be her wisest course, left him. A very respectable audience was gathering. As literary entertainments, the temperance meetings were growing in favour. Del was at the Weezy organ, playing an interlude during the second song, when Tommy Truman made his way to her side and began an eager story. Jim Forbes was on the steps, but he would not come in. He has been drinking. Tommy whispered in low, shocked tones. And he is ashamed. He says all the fellows know about it, and they are coming to night, and he can't. Meantime the organist prolonged the interlude, striking chords at random, and questioning the troubled little speaker. When she began to sing again, she skipped two verses, saying the last, then passed down the aisle out into the hall. Jim lounged in a miserable state of indecision and shamed facetness against the door. She went toward him immediately, speaking rapidly. See how much you disarrange our programme by your tardiness. I had to skip the opening song and put the second one third, because I didn't want to sing it without your bass. Do come in now. It is nearly time for the next singing. Miss Bronson, I can't. I vow I can't," said miserable Jim. You don't know how I feel, and all the fellows are coming. It's no use talking. Del turned and looked full in his face with great solemn eyes and with unutterable amazement in her voice. Why, Mr. Forbes, you promised. He returned the look, his very hair seeming to grow redder, and at last he muttered, so I did, I vow, well, Miss Bronson, I'll come, which he presently did, looking flushed and uncomfortable. Mr. Tresavant, notwithstanding his settled and unwavering objections to the temperance pledge, seemed inclined to haunt the temperance meetings. He and Miss Emmeline Elliott were together this evening, and Del wished at least one of them elsewhere. And at the close of the literary exercises, Mr. Nelson asked for the forgiveness and reinstatement of one of their number who had broken his pledge, but was again among them, repentant and ready to try again, and when, after the pardon of the society was unanimously granted, poor Jim stumbled forward, summoning greater courage for his awful passage from his seat to the pledge-table than he would have required to face the cannon's mouth. Miss Emmeline giggled and whispered to her companion loud enough for both Jim and Del to hear. Here comes Miss Bronson's protégé again. Do you suppose they have him signed every time for effect, you know? But Mr. Tresavant made some inaudible reply and looked very pale and very grave. He had not reached the point where he could ridicule anything in the remotest degree connected with Miss Bronson. As for Jim, he drew himself up with fierce angry eyes and had nearly lain down the pen, when Del, bending forward from her seat by the organ, murmured low, I thank you very much, Mr. Forbes, and instantly the pen was grasped again and the crossed-out name was renewed. I think it is very remarkable that you succeeded in prevailing upon that poor fellow to come tonight, Mr. Nelson said, as he and Del walked homeward after the meeting was closed. Do you know he utterly and emphatically refused me today, though I presented every argument and inducement in my power? But Del was sad. She did not feel encouraged or hopeful. It was well to bear a hopeful face before poor Jim, if she could, but in truth her heart was heavy. I don't know that it will be of any use, she said wearily. He will probably break his pledge again and be in a worse state than before. I confess I have very little hope of him. Mr. Nelson eyed her searchingly. Are you going to desert your colors and lose faith in the pledge at this late day? He asked her playfully. No, I am not by any means, she said, roused and excited. I have all the faith in it that I ever had and mean to work for it just as faithfully. But I never believed it could work miracles and it seems to me there is almost a miracle needed in his case. His education, you know, has not been such as to make even a solemn promise very binding and his temptations are many and peculiar. I think the pledge is better calculated to keep earnest-minded young men, those who have conscientious natures. I cannot help thinking that there is but one hope for poor Jim. If he had the strong arm to lean upon, then his pledge would be kept. But unfortunately those weak natures are the very last to submit themselves to Christ so that really I am as hopeless in regard to that as I am about the other. Do you think weak natures are less likely to be religious than stronger ones? Much less, don't you think weak people are obstinate people? I think they nearly always have a mistaken idea of their own strength while a really strong nature is always conscious of how little his strength amounts to after all and what infinite resources out of and above himself he needs to sustain him. It is a new idea, he said musingly, but I am not sure that it is not a true one. I don't know which people you class me among, the weak or the strong, he added laughing, but I certainly have a very modest and limited idea of my own power of accomplishing anything. I class you among the people who are doing violence to their own consciences, Mr. Nelson. I hope you will forgive me for speaking thus plainly, but I do not understand you. I do not see how you can reconcile it with your nature to live only half a life. I do not understand myself, he said, sighing a little. I sometimes feel greatly disheartened about it all, but Miss Dell, if I had your strong arm that you speak of to lean upon, I do not think I would descend into the valley of gloom as you and I seem to have done this evening. Then why in the world haven't you it, she asked him quickly. You seem to have a realizing sense of the power that it ought to exert over your life. You see very distinctly wherein I fail when my weak foolish heart gets the better of my sense and my faith. Why don't you set me a better example? He laughed a little at finding his reproof so suddenly turned upon himself, but seeing that she waited for an answer presently said, perhaps I haven't your confidence in the ability of the strong arm. Oh yes, you have, Mr. Nelson. I think you believe in Christ just as entirely as I do. The intellectual belief, I mean. The only difference between us is that you do not choose to accept him as your personal helper. But Miss Dell, don't you see what an inconsistent being you make me appear? Wherein would be the consistency of such a belief? I certainly do not know, Mr. Nelson. Won't you please try to discover wherein it lies? And as she said this, Dell mounted the steps of her own home. End of Chapter 18, Recording by Trisha G. Chapter 19 of The King's Daughter. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The King's Daughter by Pansy. Chapter 19, The Wedding and the Wine. They would not walk in his ways neither were they obedient unto his law. Esquire Burton's house was a glow with light. It was decidedly the most pretentious house in Lewiston and Esquire Burton's family, with the exception of Judge Elliott's, took the lead in the village. On this particular evening of which I write, the house was more brilliant than usual and quite a brilliant company was assembled. A wedding is pretty certain to call out all the elegance of which a family can boast and this was the occasion of the wedding of the daughter of the house, Miss Laura Burton, and the bridegroom was Mr. Chester Elliott. Among the guests was Del Bronson, rather it must be confessed to her own surprise. Del had never been received with marked favor by the young people of Lewiston, partly because with the consistency of this present age, while it was perfectly right and proper to drink wine and brandy, it was not just the thing to associate on familiar terms with the daughter of a common rum seller and partly because the young people of Lewiston did not care to introduce into their society so formidable a rival as the rum seller's daughter bade fair to be. So Del examined the cards of invitation with somewhat astonished eyes and speculated as to why she was invited. The first query was answered when on passing the Burton mansion later in the day, the front door suddenly opened and there rushed out an eager young lady followed by a no less eager young gentleman who stood looking on with watchful eyes while the young lady almost devoured Del with kisses. The Winthropes of Boston guests of the Bertons of Lewiston. She could imagine Miss Laura Burton opening her brown eyes in mild surprise over Helen Winthrop's delight at the thought of meeting Del Bronson again. There was a certain blue dress at home in Del's trunk that had never seen the light of Lewiston. It had rushes of soft full lace around the neck and sleeves. It was exceedingly becoming to Del and she was very fond of wearing it. Besides, a wedding was such a pleasant place to go to and they were so few in Lewiston. So, as I said, Del Bronson was one of the guests. It was quite a Bostonian affair on a small scale. There were four bridesmaids of whom Miss Emmeline Elliott was chief and her attendant was Mr. Leonard Winthrop of Boston. Del laughed a little over the lady's evident satisfaction at this arrangement. He had felt that it was hardly to be wondered at. Mr. Winthrop was certainly a man to be proud of if one chose to manifest pride of that sort. That most interesting feature of bridal parties, the ceremony was just concluded. The bride, a small pink and white creature, lost some of her pinkness during the said ceremony and was becoming pale and interesting. Everybody had kissed and congratulated her and told everybody else how lovely she looked and how handsome the bridegroom was and how solemn and impressive the ceremony had been and then the tide set toward the supper table. Sither went Del and Mr. Nelson with the rest. The supper table was brilliant and an excellent taste and the guests in excellent spirits. Conversation in brilliant detached bits flashed up and down the table till a question of the bride produced a sudden lull. Will you pledge my health and happiness, Mr. Trecevant? And her jeweled hand rested daintily on the wine glass while she waited for his answer. Others waited too. Del, sitting within a few feet of them, felt her collar come and go and could almost hear the throbs of her own heart as she listened for his reply. Very pale and very grave was Mr. Trecevant but his answer was prompt and courteous. It is a most unusual thing for me to make the slightest use of the beverage in question but at a wedding and invited by the bride herself one can hardly refuse. He touched his glass to hers and raised it up to his lips. Not a single drop did he drink, Del saw that. She saw everything connected with this scene. But what mattered it that not a single drop touched his lips when, so far as his influence was concerned, he might have drained the glass. Mr. Nelson was invited next and quietly declined. Miss Emmeline Elliott arched her eyebrows to their highest as she asked pointedly. Is it possible, Mr. Nelson, that your pledge will not allow you to wish a bride health and happiness? By no means, Miss Elliott, let me assure Mrs. Chester Elliott that I wish her all the happiness this world has to bestow. Ah, but you don't do it in the legitimate way. I should accept no such wishes as that, Sister Laura. Seriously, Mr. Nelson, do you believe it is wicked to take such a tiny little swallow of wine as custom demands here at this private table among friends? If one were in a tavern now or some such low place were common people congregate, it would be so different. Won't Miss Bronson allow you to do even such a little thing for society? The insinuations in both these sentences were coarse and low, unworthy of Miss Elliott's beautiful lips, but Mr. Nelson answered her with impotervable good humor. Miss Emmeline, I am engaged to deliver a temperance lecture in the school house at Pike's Hollow tomorrow evening. Won't you please come out there and hear me? I don't feel like producing my arguments here before their time. Meantime, society must excuse me for my awful breach of conduct and allow me to continue the social bore that I have been for so many years. The roses in Dell's cheek had been very bright during this conversation, but instead of looking annoyed, there was a mischievous light in her eyes and they only danced the more brightly when Miss Emmeline, netled into an utter breach of courtesy, answered sharply, well, you certainly have my sympathy, Mr. Nelson. I pity a man who, in this enlightened age, feels himself tied down to some little boy notion as absurd as it is childish about breaking a pledge. At this particular moment, the waiter paused beside Mr. Leonard Winthrop's glass and prepared to fill it. Quick as thought, the gentleman's hand was placed over the glass and his clear, high-bred voice sounded distinctly down the table. Not any for me, if you please. I belong to that daily increasing number of young men who have tied themselves down to the little boy notion of total abstinence. How goes the work here, Mr. Nelson? Is it encouraging? Dell did not hear Mr. Nelson's answer. She was engaged in watching the scarlet flesh that had mounted to Miss Elliot's very temples. Such an egregurious blunder as that diplomatic young lady had contrived to make. Who could have imagined for a moment that Leonard Winthrop, belonging to the Winthrops of Boston, was a champion of that absurd and babyish fanaticism total abstinence? Meantime, there was one of the company who evidently had no such scruples. This was none other than the bridegroom. Again and again, he filled and drained his glass until others beside Dell and the Winthrops began to grow unpleasantly conscious of the fact that he hardly knew what he was about. A return to the parlors it was hoped would break the spell, but Mr. Elliot was too entirely at home in his father-in-law's house to wait for an invitation to help himself at the sideboard and too far under the influence of wine to realize his condition. If you have the least influence in that direction, I beg you we'll use it to prevent more open disgrace. Thus said Mr. Nelson as he stood for a moment near his pastor, and he inclined his head as he spoke toward Mr. Elliot, who, with flushed face and loud voice, was talking eager nonsense. The pale face of Mr. Tresavant flushed slightly and he answered hodlily, I must beg to be excused. I do not boast of sufficient familiarity with any gentleman to preach him a temperance lecture at the same time that I am accepting his hospitality. Mr. Nelson turned abruptly away and sought Dell, who at that moment was standing somewhat apart. I am utterly out of patience with that man, he said testily, and she answered quickly, what man, Mr. Elliot? No, Mr. Tresavant. Of the two he acts the most like a simpleton. No one expects much wisdom from poor Elliot, especially when he is tempted on every side as he is tonight. But only think of a minister of the gospel setting him such an example, actually drinking with him, and standing aloof from him now, composedly looking on, when a word from him might quiet the fire in the poor fellow's brains. Miss Dell, do you wonder that I have little faith in a religion that bears such fruit? Dell's voice and manner were very gentle in reply. Do you really think, Mr. Nelson, that it is because Mr. Tresavant is a Christian that he takes such a strange one-sided view of the temperance question, or is it the weak point in his character that Christianity has not yet overcome? Mr. Nelson's gloomy face cleared. He smiled down on the bright, earnest eyes lifted to his as he answered, I beg pardon, I spoke harshly, I presume. I have some faith left in religion after all. There are other exponents of it than the one of whom we have just been speaking. Shall I tell you of what you remind me just now? A verse in our lesson for next Sabbath. Charity thinketh no evil. Their conversation was interrupted. The loud-voiced bridegroom came toward them, his tones at once loud and thick. Are you admiring my wife, he asked, glancing at a fair-faced smiling picture that hung near them. That doesn't begin with one up in the library. She is the very cream of sweetness in that one. Ever see it, Nelson? No, then come up and see it now. It was that I fell in love with, but you needn't follow my example, you know, too late for that. Come on, friends, and raising his voice almost to a shout. Everybody who wants to see the lady I fell in love with in her prime follow me. Let us go, Mr. Nelson said, in rapid undertone to Dell. The library is further from the dining room than the parlors are. Others joined them until quite a group gathered in the library, among whom were the Winthrops, Mr. Trezevant, and Ms. Emmeline. The face which they came to study was fair and sweet enough to have been in angels. Dell looked at it earnestly and tenderly. There was a troubled expression in the depth of the brown eyes that she had never seen in the original, a suggestion that the young girl had at some time felt a suspicion that there might be sorrow in this world somewhere, though it had never come to her. A tender pity for the gentle child wife crept into her heart as she looked from the pictured face to the restless eyes of the husband. How near the very edge of the whirlpool of sorrow seemed this bride to her. Would not God and His mercy interpose to help her? One of the company now discovered that the balcony afforded a delightful view of the rising moon and thither half a dozen of them went to view the wonderful miracle of the fiery world. Dell lingered beside the picture, strangely moved and saddened by the hidden tears in those soft brown eyes. From the window came the sound of merry voices outside, loudest above them, Mr. Elliot's. Winthrop, what on earth possessed you to grow so broad and so tall both at once? A fellow can't see through you nor around you nor over your head. Hold on though, I have an idea. I'll occupy a loftier position than you once in my life, see if I don't. Clear the way, friends. I am going up to get a nearer view of the sky. And as he spoke, he vaulted to the delicate iron latticework that surrounded the balcony. It was a wild, brainless idea. No sane man would have attempted to poison himself in mid-air on an iron thread after this fashion. And yet a sane man, having in some unaccountable manner found himself there, would have caught at the iron pillar, clung to the lattice below, and saved himself in some way. But this man's brains were confused with liquor. He realized neither his folly nor his danger. It was all done in an instant of time, the unexpected spring, the dizzy pitch forward, and then the shrieks and wild rushing down the stairs of those who had witnessed the fall. Dell went swiftly and silently down to the bride. A confusion of cries prevailed below. What is it all, the fair pink and white creature said, turning to her, and then there was plainly to be seen that look of vague trouble in the brown depths of her eyes. Someone has fallen, they say. Fallen where? Who is it? Where is my husband? In the midst of which appeared at the window Mr. Tresivant's face, deathly in its pallor. Dell, he said, in a low, clear tone, and Dell turned toward him, take her away, his wife, get her into the other room quick. We want to bring him through the hall. Dell turned back. Come with me, she said, speaking with gentle authority. I will tell you about it. And the fair young creature, easily led, allowed herself to be drawn into the little room opening from the back pallor and nestled into a chair. She looked up with great frightened eyes. I know something dreadful has happened, she said piteously, but I tremble so I would rather you did not tell me now. I'm afraid I am going to faint. I always do when I am frightened. Won't you just please to call my husband? Tell him I want him and he will come. Oh, I am fainting. And Dell, with a deep sigh of relief, saw that blessed unconsciousness steal over her face. She took the tiny creature in her arms and laid her on the couch. There was a physician among the guests and for him she sought. He was not occupied as she had supposed he would be but came at once. We will just let her be, he said, in answer to Dell's query as to what she should get and do. It is the most merciful thing that could come to her. She will revive soon enough. Is there a physician with him, questioned Dell? Yes, two of them by this time and no need for either. Why, said Dell, in odd and frightened voice? He is beyond their help. He struck his temple on the corner's step and when we got out to him was quite dead. There, Miss Dell, she is reviving. What shall we say to her? End of chapter 19, recording by Trisha G. Chapter 20 of The King's Daughter. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The King's Daughter by Pansy. Chapter 20 The Sad Funeral. Thy way and thy doings have procured these things unto thee. There are those to whom we turn instinctively when the house is full of mourning. They may not be those who are counted among our intimate friends when all goes well with us but when sudden sorrow and consternation seem as if they would overwhelm us, there are certain helpful souls who seem to know what and how and when to do and to them we look. Such in one was Dell Bronson. She had not been intimate in the Burton family during their bright days but no sooner did this stunning blow crush down upon them than she roused herself from the position of passive looker on and in that terrible night that followed not one in the house but learned how thoughtful and helpful and quiet Miss Bronson could be. So when frightened servants and anxious friends besieged Mrs. Burton with questions of what and where she grew into saying would the sudden lighting up of her bewildered face just ask Miss Bronson will you she can tell you where it is or I will consult Miss Bronson and let you know she has looked after these things for me and Dell finding herself useful nay actually necessary stayed on and did all those numberless things that relatives and more intimate friends could not be expected to do besides many trifles for the comfort of this and that one that no one else thought of doing. Also the poor little bride clung to her seeming to find in her quiet strength something like a refuge in which to hide away. She would give little answer beyond pitiful groans to the various perplexing and torturing questions concerning this or that article of mourning until Dell seeing that they were driving her nearly wild came suddenly to the rescue asked two or three concise low worded questions that could be answered by yes or no and settled the points at issue. After that they said when appealed to as to what the poor young widow would like just ask Miss Bronson she will find out for you. Laura seems willing to talk with her. So it came to pass that Dell was much in the darkened room where the widow who had been a wife for three hours lay buried among the pillows was there when Mrs. Burton came in and went toward her daughter with troubled face. My darling, Mr. Tressavant has called for the third time. Can't you see him now just a minute? You will want to know your wishes in regard to tomorrow. The young creature roused herself and turned her one white face and great sad brown eyes on her mother. Mama, there is only one thing that I am particular about and you can arrange that for me. I don't want Mr. Tressavant to have anything to do with the services tomorrow. Mrs. Burton stood aghast and Dell paused in her task of bringing order out of the chaos of the toilet table and turned toward her. But my dear daughter, what a strange idea. Quite impossible to carry out. He is your pastor, you know. That does not make the least difference, Mama. I do not want to see him at all and I will not hear him say one word tomorrow. But Laura, why? What am I to tell him? You don't realize how very badly this will look. Tell him anything you like and I don't care in the least how it looks. I am tired of looks. I don't care for anything anymore. I am sure I don't know what to do, said Mrs. Burton in despair. Miss Bronson, do you know anything about this strange idea? No, ma'am, said Dell and her voice sounded hollow and unnatural to herself. Laura, dear, pleaded the mother, you will not insist on this, I know. It will make so much trouble and bad feeling all around. If you had an intimate friend in the ministry, it would be different. But Mr. Trecevant has always been so intimate here and he was Chester's particular friend, you know. Laura's white lips quivered, but she raised herself on one elbow and spoke more resolutely than before. Mama, I am entirely resolved on this point. I never want to see Mr. Trecevant again. He was not a true friend to Chester. He had influence over him. He could have kept him from what he knew a great temptation if he had chosen. There would have been no wine at our wedding, but for him. When we talked the matter over and I objected, Chester appealed playfully to him that he should settle the question. He answered that we certainly had an honored example that there was wine at the marriage in Cana and that one earnest word did he speak to help me. Do you think that I will have that man's because empty words over my husband's coffin? Oh, but my dear, you are beside yourself, eagerly argued Mrs. Burton. Mr. Trecevant knew that he had no right to interfere in your affairs. That was a gentlemanly way of saying so. And as for the accident, poor darling child, it was a fall. No one was to blame. No one could have prevented it. Any gentleman might have had the same. While she was speaking, her daughter laid herself wearily back among the pillows with a sigh so utterly heartbroken that it fairly choked her mother's words in pitying awe. After a little silence, the poor girl spoke again. Mama, you might talk all day and you wouldn't change my mind. I am fully determined. Arrange anything else as you choose. I don't care anything about it. Only remember I will not have that man say one word. Mrs. Burton went away in despair and ere long Emmeline Elliott came in, her face and eyes swollen with weeping. She had not seen her sister-in-law before that day, but she had evidently come now to plead Mr. Trecevant's cause. The young widow listened, or perhaps did not listen, to the eager arguments and expostulating words, returning the invariable answer. It is no use talking to me, Emmeline. I am fully determined. I told Mama so. Emmeline turned at last to Dell with smothered sharpness in her voice. Is it possible, Miss Bronson, that you uphold Laura in this cruel and unladylike thing? For an instant Dell's eyes flashed and it required all of her self-control and the remembrance of that crushed heart lying there among the pillows to help her answer in low quiet tones. I have not felt called upon to advise Mrs. Elliott on a point wherein she did not ask my advice. But if she had, I should have said, if Mr. Trecevant is in any way connected with this trouble, his own conscience must be weighed enough for him to bear. I would not add to it. Then she turned and went out of the room. It was but a few minutes when she was summoned in haste and dismay. Laura had fainted and Emmeline did not know what to do with her and Mrs. Burton could not be found. The doctor had come to make his morning call and followed Dell to the scene of trouble. The next hour was a very busy and a trying one. The frail young creature was routed from one long death-like schoon only to sink into another, so like death itself that sometimes their hearts barely stood still in terror. When at last the doctor left her in a more hopeful state, he sought the mother and delivered his verdict. Mrs. Elliott's nerves had sustained a great shock. Her brain was in a very excited condition and there was strong tendency to fever. It was therefore exceedingly important that her slightest fancies should be yielded to, that her wishes should not be crossed in any way. She must be kept quiet at all hazards. Soon after that Mrs. Burton called for a private conference with Dell and with much circumlocution and embarrassment, made known to her that she desired her to communicate with Mr. Trecevant on the delicate subject. Dell shrink in pain and terror from the task. Well, Mrs. Burton, she said earnestly, I cannot help him. It is not my place to do so and I should not know what to say. My dear, I think it is imminently your place. You have been so constantly with our poor child since the accident and you can represent to him her peculiarly nervous state and the fact that she shrinks from hearing his voice in the service because of his intimacy with poor Chester. Mrs. Burton delicately ignored the fact that this was not the reason. You see, Mr. Burton's position as an officer of the church makes it an exceedingly difficult matter for him to manage and I am sure I could never get through it without blundering. Now, my dear Miss Bronson, couldn't you be persuaded to add this to your long list of kindnesses? I assure you we will never forget how kind you have been to us and you are so intimately acquainted with him. Meantime, Dell was thinking. She heard only a word here and there of Mrs. Burton's smooth flowing sentences. She pitied, oh, so deeply and earnestly, the pale-faced, hollow-eyed young minister who fairly haunted this house of mourning in his eagerness to be of some service. This added blow that was to fall, she knew it would be a heavy one. She longed to avert it. Failing in that, would it not be less hard to endure coming to him from her, told gently and with honest sympathy, such as she could give? Thus thinking, she let herself seem to be persuaded, received in silence Mrs. Burton's valuable thanks and assurances of never forgetting her and went down to Mr. Trecevant when next he called. He came forward to meet her, gave her a cold, trembling hand and then said eagerly, Dell, isn't there anything I can do? She shook her head. Everything is done, I believe, Mr. Trecevant. Then, by his next question, he precipitated the entire matter. I wonder when I am to see Mrs. Elliot to make arrangements about the funeral. Can you find out for me? It is quite time I knew what is desired. Straightforward frankness had always been Dell's habit. She knew no other way, so now she spoke quickly, yet with an undertone of gentle tenderness. Mr. Trecevant, they have sent me down to talk with you about this. Mrs. Elliot is half distracted. She shrinks from seeing anyone, you among others, and they want you to make arrangements with Dr. Carswell to attend the funeral. Dr. Carswell, he repeated in a surprised tone, I did not know he was a special friend. What part in the service do they wish me to assign to him? They want him to conduct the entire service. Mrs. Elliot connects you so closely in her mind with her husband that she does not feel able to hear your voice and they would like you to make arrangements with Dr. Carswell to attend the funeral yourself as a personal friend of the family. Mr. Trecevant stood before her, dumb with wonder, and with a heavy pain in his heart. What did it all mean? A friend he had certainly been to Chester Elliot, but not more to him than to almost any other young man connected with his congregation. A little influence he had possessed over him certainly, but he hoped he had some influence over all his people. On that principle, was he never to be allowed to bury his dead? There was some mystery about all this. Del, he said appealingly, what does all this mean? I don't understand it. Won't you explain it to me? Del stood before him with downcast eyes and glowing cheeks. There were great tears in her eyes. She longed to flee from her task. How could she further wound the heart that she knew well enough was aching now with a bitter, unavailing regret? Yet she would not deceive him. She spoke in low, tremulous tones. Mr. Trecevant, you must remember that Mrs. Elliot has undergone a fearful shock and is not yet capable of thinking calmly. She associates you with her husband's condition on the night of the accident. She perhaps exaggerates your influence over him. This much she cannot keep her pitying heart from saying, and so just now it is painful for her to see or hear you. It is a heavy blow. It quivers through every vein in the sensitive minister's body. Del feels it all for him. She fairly longs to clasp his hands and lay her head upon his shoulder and weep out her sympathy and her pity. But he doesn't know her heart. He doesn't see the unshed tears in those brown eyes. He is hurt to his very soul and he is just as unreasonable as most other sensitive people are when something unexpected has stung them. Besides, he doesn't in the least understand the young lady whom he has asked to be his wife. So he answers her in tones as cold as ice. This is evidently your work, Miss Bronson. I hope you may be able to enjoy your triumph with a clear conscience. The tears in Del's eyes have no disposition to fall after that. Indeed, they seem to have burned their way back to their source. Talk of his being hurt, he will never have any conception of how he has stung her. If, she says in her heart, if he really, after all that has passed, knows me no better than to think that I could do that, why then, what is the use of talking to him at all? So she lifted her eyes, stern now and dry, one instant to his face and then turned and left the room. Have you settled the matter satisfactorily, my dear Miss Bronson? Questions, Mrs. Burton, with both eagerness and nervousness. The exceeding impropriety of a rupture with her pastor at such a time and under such circumstances is of all things to be avoided. Del even then is jealous for his honor and understands him better than he does himself. She answers quietly. Yes, ma'am, he understands your wishes, but I think he would like to confer with you concerning the arrangements to be made with Dr. Carswell. Del knows he will be his own proud self before Mrs. Burton and the sooner he talks the thing over with the solemn dignity which the occasion demands, the sooner he will calm down, but she has been stabbed to the heart. End of Chapter 20, recording by Tricia G. Chapter 21 of The King's Daughter. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The King's Daughter by Pansy. Chapter 21 Jim Forbes's Speech. I have seen his ways and will heal him. I haven't heard a word from him since he went away, Mr. Nelson told Del, as they too walked down the street together toward the church. It was the evening devoted to the temperance meeting. I used all my influence with Mr. Elliot to send some other fellow and let us keep Jim here under our influence, but I accomplished nothing. Jim happened to be the best man for the sort of work that they wanted done, and of course his well-being must not be weighed for an instant against the press of work. I fear the very worst for him. He has gone to a hard place. He spoke in a troubled tone and Del answered him listlessly as one weary and discouraged. He could hardly do much worse than he was doing here. He broke the pledge three times, you know. In truth she was both weary and discouraged. She was beginning to feel that she had toiled all night and caught nothing. Nothing accomplished or at the best such trifles that they might almost pass for nothing. Six weeks had passed since that sad funeral and she had not seen Mr. Trecevant to speak with during that time. She had hoped so much from that painful time. She had imagined that her faith was strong in the way distinct. She had believed that from the scenes of that solemn time God meant to speak with force and power to the soul of this servant of his and arouse him to higher views and holier purposes. During all her sojourn in the house of mourning while mingling her tears of heartfelt sympathy with the widowed bride, there had been an undertone of solemn joy in her heart and she watched and waited for the hour when she should hear him declare himself led by the awful power of God to look at life from a different standpoint. This hope, rather this belief bore her during the trying funeral scene when the pastor sat with white suffering face up heart and heard the voice of a stranger lead the service. Her heart bled for him. It is cruel, she said under her breath. He cannot think that I had anything to do with it or if he thinks so today he will not tomorrow when some of the bitterness is passed. I would not have him endure this scene if any word of mine could have helped it. And yet underneath this feeling was that other one almost exultant the Lord whom he serves is leading him is showing him just where he stands and he is good and sincere and will come into the full light. But tomorrow came and went and Mr. Tresivant went steadily on his usual work doing nothing more only avoiding her not seeming to desire even so much as a glimpse of her. Clearly he believed his public disgrace was owing to her and clearly too he thought only of the disgrace nothing of the soul gone down to sudden darkness that his outstretched hand might have saved. It appeared in time that the disgrace was not much after all. People remarked how deathly pale Mr. Tresivant was on the day of the funeral and how well it was that he did not undertake to conduct the services else he would surely have failed. Then they added that he must have cared more for young Elliot than they had supposed and then they turned to something else and forgot all about it. So the minister carried in his eyes whenever he was obliged to meet Dell a look of proud satisfaction that her scheme to humiliate him had failed and she knew not what to think. Everywhere her work and hopes seemed equally to have come to not. So on this particular evening she spoke bitterly almost indifferently about Jim Forbes. She did not feel indifferent only discouraged. Poor Jim had certainly been a discouraging object. He had signed the pledge and broken it so many times that she had almost lost her desire to have him sign it. Now for six weeks he had been away sent by Mr. Elliot to help mend broken machinery at another mill situated in a town if possible lower in the social and temperance scale than Lewiston. And Dell felt as hopeless concerning him as Mr. Nelson possibly could even though she nightly commended him to the strong arm that she firmly believed was mighty to save and Mr. Nelson never did any such thing. Tommy Truman met them at the door and came forward to them indeed with eager face. Jim Forbes has got back Mr. Nelson. He proclaimed when he was within speaking distance of that gentleman. Has he indeed answered Mr. Nelson heartily while Dell said not a word. Yes sir and he is coming to the meeting this evening. He says he has got something to tell the meeting. Dell looked up to Mr. Nelson with a one smile. He wants to sign the pledge again I suppose. Poor fellow she said still speaking listlessly and then they went into the church. A fair sized audience was already gathered. It was becoming quite the fashion to attend to these temperance meetings, the music and literary exercises continuing very attractive. Mr. Trecevant and Ms. Emmeline Elliott were present. Mr. Trecevant very rarely attended the meetings during these days but some power had drawn him thither on that particular evening. Presently came Jim Forbes down the aisle with steady step and a clear light in his brown eyes. Also Jim wore a clean shirt and a whole coat that had been carefully brushed. His hair was combed with unusual nicety and his collar was firm and white. All together Jim had never looked so well in his life. Trooping down the aisle after him came Dell's entire class and after them a large delegation of some of the worst characters in the mill. They took their seats noisily with expectant faces. Evidently an unusual interest centered around Jim Forbes that evening though he could not have been in town more than an hour. He went directly to Mr. Nelson and whispered a few words. That gentleman nodded ascent and then Jim quietly took his seat pausing only to grasp Dell's hand for an instant as he passed the organ. At the conclusion of the literary exercises Mr. Nelson announced that their friend Forbes who had been absent for several weeks had a few words to say. Jim arose at once and came forward with an air of simple dignity that was new to him and became him well and this was the speech he made. I don't know how to make a speech. I never made one but I've got something I want to tell you. I told the boys if they would come down here with me tonight I would tell them something and I wanted to tell the rest of you. You all know what I've been and some of you know how hard I've tried lately to stop drinking. I wanted to stop. I meant to stop. When I signed that pledge I thought I had drunk my last drop but it wasn't so. The pledge helped me a good deal. I went without drink after I signed it longer than I ever did before since I was 10 years old but I was tempted and you folks who have never drunk in your lives don't know what it is to be tempted in that way. I broke my pledge. I tried to make the boys believe that I did it for fun and that I didn't care but it wasn't so. I felt bad. I can't tell you anything about how bad I did feel but I thought there is no use trying anymore and so I give up but I had a friend and here Jim's voice broke a little and that friend came after me and talked to me and coaxed me and wouldn't let me go to the dogs that time though I seemed to want too bad enough. So I tried again, tried harder than I did before and you'd be surprised at the lot of folks that wanted to ruin me and how hard they worked for it and how few there was seemed to care whether I was ruined or not. Well the lot succeeded and down I went again and that time I was worse than before but I had the same friend sticking to me and getting me to promise to try again and though it seemed to me of no kind of use I did try some weeks at a time and then I tumbled back again and one night when my boss came and made an offer to go to another town to work I jumped at the chance force as I to myself I ain't nobody and I can't be I've tried as hard as a fellow could but I was too far gone before I begun so now I'll go away and I can spree it as much and as hard as I like and there won't be anybody to feel bad or to coax me nor to care what becomes of me. So I went away and before I'd been gone one day who do you think I found was after me harder than anybody had ever been before? Why it was the Lord himself and he didn't let go of me though I tried to get away. I went into a rum hole and he followed me and coaxed me out before I took a single drink. I told him it was no use says I I've tried it again and again and I ain't nobody and I can't be now I've give up for the last time and want to be let alone and says he to me Jim that's just the trouble you've tried it but never have tried me never it is a good help but you are too far gone you want something stronger you want something so strong that you can't get away from it you want more than that something so strong that you can't want to get away from it try me Jim try me and it kind of flashed all over me that this was the solemn truth and I just stood still there in the street in the dark and says I oh Lord I will and I did and all the while I was to work in that mill and going up and down those streets and passing hotels and saloons and cellars by the dozen he never left me a single minute not a minute I didn't even want to go into one of them places I shrunk away from them I hated them I worked against them all the time I didn't feel afraid I should go back to them anymore for I could feel that the Lord had tight hold of me and now I am His here Jim paused in his rapid eager talk and drew out his handkerchief and wiped away the tears that had been rolling down his cheeks and there seemed to be need for many handkerchiefs around the church just then I've just one more thing to tell the boys he began after a moment and that is if they really want to get away from the rum or even if they don't want to and are willing to be coaxed into wanting to he's the friend and helper to come to the pledge is good it helped me I love it and I'll work for it but God is stronger than the pledge and some of us need just the strongest kind of help that we can get oh boys come and try my friend you don't know anything about him and it's little I can tell you but I can feel it and so can you if you want to now I want everybody to know and Jim drew himself up with strange dignity and spoke in very solemn tones I belong to the Lord body and soul I'm going to live for him and work for him but there's something of a great deal more importance than all that he's going to live for me there was a solemn silence in the room for a moment after Jim took his seat the boys from the mill were absolutely quiet and grave they had been listening while one of their numbers spoke in an unknown tongue and they marveled greatly Mr. Nelson arose at last and stood for a moment in silence then his touched and tremulous voice broke the stillness our friend has proved to us forcibly tonight that his help is in God he said some of us need just the strongest kind of help that we can get I want to vary that statement a little and express my solemn conviction that all of us need just that kind of help and that is found alone in God I honor the total abstinence pledge I believe it to be one of God's chosen instruments of usefulness I will work for it from this time with renewed energy and earnestness but I have been slowly turning from my early bulwark that man needed but to use the strength inherent in his nature to be what he would I feel that I need God and I hereby pledge myself and all that I have and am and hope to be to his service from this time forth let us pray I thought you would be happy tonight Mr. Nelson said gently to Dell as they walked homeward and here you are in tears how is this I am weeping over my own folly Dell answered smiling a little through her tears though I pride myself on being a daughter of the king it seems I cannot trust him to do his own work in his own time and way but seem determined to insist on choosing my time and my way and when I fail discouragement and depression sees upon me as if the cause were lost end of chapter twenty one recording by trisha g chapter twenty two of the king's daughter the sleeper box recording is in the public domain the king's daughter by pansy chapter twenty two the fire and the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them away and by night in a pillar of fire it was after eleven o'clock when Dell on her way to her room paused before the bar room door and hearing no sound within ventured to open it and peep in such a contrast is that room presented to the rest of the house which had long since come under Dell's sway scrupulous cleanliness and order prevailed and evidences of a refined and cultured taste were gradually taking up their abode in every room everywhere but in the bar room there she never penetrated the more utterly comfortless and forlorn and dirty that place could be made to look the better pleased was Dell and certainly the wandering boy who had present charge of that department was calculated to do her soul good on the evening in question she peeped cautiously in six or seven loungers in chairs or disposed along the wooden satis and every one of them asleep the clothes confined air the smoking stove and the smoking lamps together with the intolerable smell of tobacco and bad whiskey had been too much for them and their snores were becoming every moment more distinct and determined seated just in front of the smoldering fire Mr. Bronson tipped back in one of the hard chairs his slouched hat pushed to one side sleeping with the rest how old and worn he looked Dell had never seemed to see before how sunk in his cheeks were and how very gray he was growing wasn't it incredible that a man as old as he and as tired as he must be should prefer to sit sleeping in that hard chair in that filthy room with such surroundings and such companions when there awaited him a bed is soft and white and sweet smelling as careful hands could make it every day the wonder grew upon Dell every day the house took on a daintier aspect and her father seemed in a sense to appreciate and enjoy it oftener he came and longer he lingered in the fair gem of a morning room that she had made for his special entrapment yet what did it amount to since he daily increased his capacity and his passion for whiskey so that often he came in a half drunken state and sat down in her dainty cushioned chairs and profaned the purity of that fair room with ceaseless spittings and even with oaths all to no purpose looked the sacrifice of Dell's life her father had set up an idol in his heart long ago and every day he bestowed more of his heart's love on it every passing day seemed to make it more improbable that he would ever seek any other love yet looking upon him Dell daily said to herself this unalterable promise i know the thoughts that i think toward you say at the lord thoughts of peace and not of evil to give you an expected end she shut the door softly upon that disgusting scene and went up the stairs singing softly to herself god moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform actually singing and her father sitting in that dreadful bar room in a drunken sleep you see she had an expected end she said it over a loud after she had finished her voice of song to give you an expected end Dell had risen to a higher plane of life during these passing months with her in a sense hope had been lost not in fruition but in expectation why because of the promise rather the long chain of promises link after link of which she knew by heart and on each separate link she fed herself reminding the king daily hourly of his own words and she knew they were of more importance to him than half his kingdom and she knew his scepter was held out to her so now she just waited in daily expectation of the end that she knew was to come odd just that she did not know not given up trying to help you understand not a bit of that she held on to her end of the chain she spread her little traps and snares and looked eagerly to see if her father would fall into them and wondered if that were to be the way that the end would come and when he chose one by one apparently to ignore her ways she told herself earnestly that his ways are not as her ways nor his thoughts as her thoughts and realizing how infinitely higher and better his ways must be than hers she put her hand in his and trod bravely on certainly this daughter of the king had learned one lesson during all her time of humble waiting worth all the hours of discipline that it had required the lesson of patient prayerful trust she went briskly about preparing for rest the hour was late but late as was the hour she dived down into the bottom of an unpacked trunk in search of a thick wrapper lined throughout with flannel that she had determined should go with mrs. Cooley's bundle in the morning mrs. Cooley was sick and the winter was severe doll had been sewing all that day getting ready some comfortable garments for the sick woman it was part of this girl's method of preaching temperance and it also belonged perhaps in a curious way to the doctrine of retribution that while the father sold Jack Cooley all the whiskey he would drink the daughter struggled faithfully to replace some of the comforts to the wife and children that this miserable man swallowed daily two hours after that she was in Boston having a delightful talk with Uncle Edward when she was brought suddenly back to Lewiston and she set up in bed with bewildered vision and startled ears what had she heard to awaken her so suddenly she wondered only for an instant then the sounds rang out again on the still clear air fire fire fire caught up and repeated from mouth to mouth she sprang up and looked out on the village from either window no sign of blaze visible to her but people running toward the hotel and then a vigorous pounding and loud calls at their front door one glance into the hall revealed the secret it was full of blaze and smoke it was the work of an instant to envelop herself in the woollen wrapper that she had been at such pains to find then rushed downstairs and draw the bolts to that front door in poured the men ready and eager for work that next hour has always been a maze of bewilderment to doubt she knew she worked tore up and downstairs brought blankets to wrap around father and the six drunkards with him she knew they were rescued at infinite risk and that Sam Miller and Jim Forbes were foremost in the work she knew that she brought keys and unlocked doors to save the time it would take to burst them open finally she remembered coming downstairs with her Bible and her watch and Mrs. Cooley's bundle and following her father across the way to Parker's but all her movements were mechanical and un-reasoning in the course of time she realized that her father had been badly wounded that he was lying on the bed and that she was to take care of him the doctor had been there and dressed his wounds and given him an opiate while he slept unconscious still of much that had been Del stood by the window and watched the men across the way working like soldiers in a battle and she saw plainly enough that in another two hours there would not be a beam or a plank left of the old tavern even at that solemn hour a strange feeling of exaltation came over her no more whiskey would ever be sold there her father had drank the last drop that he would ever get at that bar at least and then what barrels and barrels of the poison were being made away with licked up by the wild flames so much more reasonable it looked than to see men swallowing it then again came to her those two lines God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform she did not sing them this time but she thought them as she stood at the window and watched the house that had been such a curse to the village melt away presently she spoke aloud and solemnly this is his way is it well burn before evening of the next day this young victim of rum had reason to feel that it was not all licked from earth by the last night's flames her miserable father lay on his bed unable to move hand or foot but able to speak and the constant burden of his cry was whiskey burning with fever suffering in every nerve realizing that the ill-gotten gains of years had perished in half a night this one desire was yet strong enough to overreach all other feelings something to drink something to drink in vain deltried all her dainty little arts of pleasing prepared and brought this and that cooling liquid and held them temptingly before him he wanted none of them something strong something to build him up this was his constant grown everybody with whom she came in contact conspired against her wise ones gravely shook their heads and said it was wrong to cross him so that he was accustomed to stimulus and he must have it or he would die even mister nelson who called in the course of the day when del pitifully appealed to him for encouragement said doubtfully he did not know he was sure he was not skilled in these things perhaps as he had always been accustomed to it it might be dangerous to irritate him so yet he should very much dislike to give him stimulus if he had it to decide but at the same time it was hard to go contrary to everyone's opinion physician and all on the whole he did not know anything about it it would be impossible to tell what he would do if he were similarly situated throughout the long weary day del stood resolutely on guard resolute outwardly at least but with such a troubled heart what was the right thing to do could she possibly bring herself to give him a drink of that hated poison after having spent so many agonizing hours in prayer for his release from its dominion in the early evening they were having another debate on the same question the dapper little doctor who was del's special dislike and herself mister nelson standing apart and interested in troubled listener and jim forbes an eager and excited one now i tell you miss bronson doctor jones said pompously you can't make the world over in a minute even if it would be well to do so at all your father has been used to a drink of whiskey every day and whiskey he must have or he will die as likely as not anyway this chafing and fretting are very bad for him you can certainly see that but i thought that whiskey was not considered advisable by anyone during the fever said poor puzzled del but my dear miss bronson the fever is doubtless the result of this day's constant fretting i should not wish to over urge you but really the consequences of the strange fancy on your part baby serious if only she could but trust him could be sure that he knew what he was talking about if only she knew what was the right thing to do she looked weirdly over in the corner where jim forbes stood he stepped forward a little his eager look attracted her attention i wouldn't give him rum miss bronson he said earnestly the little doctor wheeled around on him with an angry air perhaps you would be willing to undertake the case he said with a hotty sneer del interposed i am not convinced that it is the best to feed my father on what has been his lifelong curse until i am i shall not give him brandy young lady would you like to have your father die asked mr. jones with tremendous emphasis and in his sternest tones which truth to tell were not very stern for dignity and sternness were not his forte the thought not the words pale del's face could she have her father die as he had lived drinking away his senses lulled into his last sleep with that awful rum and yet was her action paroling his life poor weary girl she seemed hunted on every side a slight bustle in the hall arrested dr. jones attention del had not noticed it but when the door opened she raised her eyes a tall handsome form a gentle manly trustful face one glance and then del sprang forward with something between a laugh and a sob exclaiming oh uncle edward i knew you would come my darling he said in that voice of fatherly sweetness and tenderness then how is he tonight and del held up her head and her thoughts went back to her father he is worse i am afraid uncle edward must i let them give him brandy we will try to determine that very soon my dear do you see my companion he was a tall grave gray haired man he stepped a little out of the shadow and del's face lighted with a sudden hope and gladness such as even her uncle's coming had not brought and a great deal of her gladness and hopefulness was expressed in her tones as she held out both hands to him and said doctor mchenry end of chapter twenty two recording by trisha g chapter twenty three of the king's daughter the sleeper box recording is in the public domain the king's daughter by pansy chapter twenty three the doctors and their patients his ways are not as our ways it seems to be a magic name doctor mchenry little doctor jones drew himself up and bustled forward and mister nelson bent curious searching eyes on the newcomer the name was very well known in lewiston but lewiston had never laid eyes on the great man before the five hundred dollar boston doctor he was jacosly called by reason of the many fabulous stories that were afloat concerning his marvelous cures and equally marvelous prices but fable aside he was undoubtedly a wonderful doctor and the joy in del's eyes did not compare with the feeling of sudden relief to her troubled heart doctor jones was promptly introduced in the question of brandy or no brandy again presented i can of course form no opinion until i see the patient said the grave voiced boston doctor so daughter uncle and physicians went to the patient's room the two others remaining outside eager for the conclusion of the whole matter a rapid examination of the patients pulse a few brief rapidly put questions and doctor mchenry fixed his grave gray eyes on the little doctor's face and spoken slow deliberate tones it seems to me that there is plenty of febrile action already i see no occasion for increasing it of course not eagerly and rapidly commenced the little doctor and in ordinary cases i should not advise it but the excitement of the patient is such that i thought it better to allay it with a very little of what he craves suppose his diseased stomach should choose to crave a dose of arsenic what then very low very grave was the question and the great gray eyes were fixed thoughtfully on the little man doctor jones crimson and made haste to answer of course we wish your advice on the matter i have felt the need of consultation myself and if you think and i have no doubt you are right but the excitement my friend i assure you he has been perfectly raving for liquor all day how would you manage that i should not hope to allay it by feeding him brandy still the very low very grave tones at this point the sick man aroused from his uneasy slumber and began his petition for a drop of something cooling and strengthening meantime the boston doctor had withdrawn into the shadow motioning his companion to do the same del offered her earnest explanation why it was impossible to gratify him to which he responded with impatient and contemptuous exclamations doctor jones bustled up to him and offered his crumb of comfort we have decided mister bronson that the nervous condition of your system is such that we shall have to refuse you all liquors for the present nervous fiddlesticks said mister bronson in feeble anger when did you decide it seems to me you've wonderfully changed your mind you told me not an hour ago that it would do me good to have a drink not quite that mister bronson replied doctor jones with crimsoning face but since that time we've had a consultation and decided differently who has doctor mchenry of boston mister bronson knew the name very well indeed for about half a minute he was odd and astonished the next he clearly believed doctor mchenry to be a myth so far at least as his presence in lewiston was concerned i don't care for all the doctors in boston put together he said in utmost pivishness i want a drink of brandy and i'm going to have it doctor mchenry stepped quietly forward let me try he said to doctor jones then he stepped to the bedside fixed those singular gray eyes of his upon the patient and spoke in clear steady tones my friend are you entirely ready to die a sudden shiver ran through mister bronson's frame and for once his attention was turned from brandy are you doctor mchenry he said in an odd tone i am and then the doctor repeated his question the steady eyes mean time reading the sick man's face mister bronson's voice grew very husky and trembled over his next question am i going to die that is more than i can tell you but i can state the case frankly you have burnt up your stomach with rum that is much worse to manage than the burns on your body and makes things more serious for you at the same time if you will aid us like a man in our efforts by trying to understand that whiskey in all its forms is your worst enemy and if you will refuse to touch a drop even if it is offered you and will undertake the work of trying to keep your mind calm and quiet we propose with god's help to see you safely through your trouble but if you persist in fretting yourself into a fever over a poison which you must not have or if anyone is so cruel is to bring you brandy and you are so insane as to drink it your life will not be worth that a sudden emphatic snap of dr mchenry's thumb and finger gave point to the startling sentence and the mind of mister bronson was most effectually set at rest on the liquor question the days that followed were full of sickening anxiety the patient had drained his constitution years before and had very little left with which to endure his pain then there was added to his torment the burning of a perpetual craving thirst that refused to be a late by anything that was within his call still dr mchenry's words had thoroughly sobered and frightened him and he gave what help he could in trying to smother his longings and control his unsteady brain as for del her faith had returned to her she did not let it go again for an instant when her uncle edward told her gently dear child you must be prepared for the worst dr mchenry thinks the case more than doubtful she looked up in his face with a calm brave smile and answered steadily he will not die uncle edward god will not let him die until he is safe firmly she clung to this belief when on the fifth day he seemed to sink beyond all human aid when in answer to a beseeching telegram dr mchenry came again and arriving late in the day came on tiptoe to the bedside and stood with the rest awaiting in solemn silence the departure of a soul even then del's face was calm and hopeful she responded in person to mr nelson's call and in answer to his inquiry said they think he is dying but he is not i know god will not let him die i never saw one apparently so near death's door dr mchenry said afterward i had no idea he would ever speak again that was very powerful medicine that we administered dr jones said rubbing his hands in satisfaction and dr mchenry answered quietly it was not medicine that called him back it was the prayer of faith gradually they're done to ponder a knowledge of what his way was to be not after her shaping yet god had given her in her inmost heart the assurance that her father would not die until that thought that he had toward her to give her an expected and was accomplished it was for that purpose that she believed that the almost departed soul had been bitten to terry for a little long enough to hear and accept the pardon at the eleventh hour not so and gradually there came to her the knowledge that her share of the work was not yet done that her father was to live indeed that is that no further immediate danger was to be apprehended that his life might even probably would be lengthened out by years that he would be crippled and deformed needing her constant care and thought needing to be watched over and fed and cared for like a child and that there would be no childlike gentleness and submission and love to make the work pleasant and hopeful as the weeks passed the excitement and deep interest that it awakened in the hearts of the people died quietly out the village was no longer put in a flutter over dr mckenry's comings and goings the great man had done his work for the poor cripple and came no more uncle edward still came and went spending one afternoon of every week with his child strengthening her and helping her and by means of his cultured taste and ample purse gradually making the two rooms that they occupied at the widow parkers into bowers of beauty mister nelson and jim forbes and sam miller for patient faithful constant friends yet still the weight of the work and the burden rested on del and heavy the burden certainly seemed never in his most hopeless liquor drinking days had mister bronson been more fully determined to hear not a single word of a religious nature indeed his indifference seem to have been changed into positive vindictiveness he would not listen to a prayer from his brother-in-law he would not allow del's bible to be kept on the little stand at the foot of his bed he stopped her harshly if she began what he called one of her some tunes and in every way he seemed to have gone backward in every way save one his brain was entirely clear from liquor during these days dr mckenry's final warning had been too plainly and solemnly worded for even him to disregard but he seemed bent on having vengeance for his marvelous self-denial by being as miserable in himself as possible and making all around him share in his misery mean time del was completely shut in from the outside world no more church going for her her sabbath school class passed quietly into mister nelson's hands not one of them now but were quite willing to become his pupils if they're doing so would be any sort of comfort to miss bronson the temperance meeting still went on but they did without del it is a good thing she said half laughing half tremulously mister nelson one evening after he had been giving her an account of a successful meeting and the addition of two new members from her class it is a good thing to discover that the earth can turn on its axis without your help especially when you have been imagining that you did a great deal of the pushing she stood with her uncle in the hall on the afternoon of a wintery day he was drying on his gloves and buttoning his overcoat and otherwise preparing for his snowy walk to the train a whole week perhaps two before she would see his dear face again doesn't the little heart ever quail just the least bit he asked looking down on her and holding her to him with a yearning father's tenderness it had been an unusually hard afternoon mister bronson had been in his bitterest mood and there had come over the heart of the boston merchant such a dismal sense of contrast between the life his darling was living now and the shielded carefully nurtured life that she had lived in her boston home but he fairly longed to carry her back into the brightness she looked up wistfully no uncle edward at least not often not when i lean on the strong for strength you are almost discouraged i think but i am not do you know i would rather have this intolerance of the whole subject than the absolute indifference that possessed him so long i think almost any phase of the heart is better than indifference you are right he said quickly an angry conscience is an aroused conscience oftentimes well as the train shrieked around the corner goodbye dear child god bless you and keep you and give you the desire of your heart what are you especially resting upon today she repeated it with an earnest wistful light in her eyes his ways are not as our ways and her uncle added with a hopeful tenderness his ways are always right she stood at the window and watched him as he sped down the snowy street the man who had been to her in every respect a father only a moment did she give herself the luxury of looking after him with loving eyes then she turned and went back to the waiting father inside stilling her heart in the meantime with the thought that watching over and caring for them all was that other father whose daughter she really was end of chapter twenty three recording by trisha g chapter twenty four of the king's daughter this LibriVox recording is in the public domain the king's daughter by pansy chapter twenty four the strange wedding great and marvelous are thy works Lord God Almighty just and true are thy ways thou king of saints the october day was a glow with beauty all the leaves of the trees had adorned themselves with spots of scarlet and crimson and gold and the leaf strewn earth rustled gaily as you trailed your garments along the walk overall the magnificent sun poured his yellow glory it was just that time of high carnival that the world takes on before it spreads its gray and naked frost-bitten arms abroad proclaiming that winter is at hand del had been out into all the beauty drinking it in and gathering great glowing bunches of leaves she had come in again and dropped herself on a low ottoman letting the leaves shower around her while she set herself about arranging them into many colored bouquets the side door stood open letting in the breezy freshness of the afternoon an open fire burned in the great to dry and sweeten the october air del was in her favorite dress of snowy white it was late in the season for white dresses and lewiston people thought her very absurd but del who had ever been hopelessly indifferent as to what people thought about her garments said that black dresses and winter would come soon enough so every bright afternoon she robed herself in white and compromised with the season by adding a dainty scarlet sack that matched the leaves in her hair and in the vases all about her very happy and bright looked del on this particular afternoon a sweet and subtle piece shining in her eyes not a day older seemed she than on that first afternoon in august more than two years ago the room in which she sat accorded well with her appearance bright and fresh and beautiful was everything about her simple of course to be in keeping with the low ceiling and the old fashioned doors and windows but fairly alive with comfort and an exquisite taste there was only one large piece of furniture in the room and that a chair elegantly upholstered looking soft and downy enough for a bed in itself and in this chair his gaily slippered feet resting on the cushioned footstool his crimson lined wrapper folded comfortably about him rested del's father on his face change was distinctly marked indeed you would hardly have imagined that that smoothly shaven neatly even elegantly dressed old band could be the miserable red-faced half-drunken wretch who sat with a slouched hat pushed to one side and his feet tilted above his head on that memorable evening of the fire father del said suddenly holding up a bunch of the brightest leaves did you ever in your life see anything prettier than that yes he said slowly in a fond happy voice looking beyond the leaves to the bright face back of them they're wonderful pretty but i've seen something a great deal prettier i know where del laughed a happy little laugh the flattery brought an absurd as it was was very sweet to her hungry heart and this man was her father he watched her in pleased silence for a few minutes then he said you may bring me the book if you will child and i'll read a bit and del brought forward a light stand so made that it would slip inside of the wheeled chair and there on she placed the handsomely bound large print bible her self-adjusting the glasses that the poor shirvelled hands had not strength to arrange and then went back to her work she had meantime procured a large book for herself and now gave her attention to the selection of the prettiest leaves for pressing stealing occasional loving glances at the old man bending over the book great and marvelous indeed had been the changes wrought in that past year his ways are wonderful indeed through much suffering and many disappointments after dark days of hope deferred the expected end had come and del beheld her father reading with reverent face and eyes full of earnest interest the bible stories so new and precious to him life was very bright to del during those days with the constant care and the constant prayer that she had bestowed on her father there had come into her heart a great and overpowering love stronger than any filial love that she had ever imagined and during those later months with the love had come a feeling of reverence almost of as she felt the babe in Christ springing into higher knowledge and stronger faith than she had attained as she looked at him she realized that every gray hair in that bend head was dearer to her than her own life looking at him and thinking of the changes she went back a little over her own past her efforts in the cause her hopes and plans and disappointments and victories no said del with a puzzled face after a moment's earnest thought i have tried to work hard and accomplish a great many things but i believe i have done none of them well what difference does it make many of the very things i wanted have been done and if the king has accepted my trying and done the work himself what is it to me so long as the work is done there were some things not yet done there was mister trecevant del thought of him but without a shade on her face he would come into the light yet she felt certain of it the clouds still rested between them he had never forgiven her for the slight that he still chose to think she had brought upon him at the time of chester elliott's funeral she had never seen him alone for a moment since that time and during his very rare calls on her father he had been only coldly polite to her but del was forever looking forward to the day when he would understand everything in its true light she did not know how it was to be brought about perhaps some chance word of his would give her an opportunity to explain some way she could not tell how it would all come right meantime she had lost all her hard bitter feelings toward him she had even come to the point of justifying his cruel suspicion of her and spent much of her time in a sort of gleeful looking forward to the days wherein they having come fully to understand each other would talk over together these dark days of separation about the main point that had separated them she had not a doubt the temperance question was taking on new force and power with every passing day new men strong ones were coming to the front to aid in the warfare mr trecevant was too good a man to remain long in the shadow once convinced that he had done her injustice he would be the first to frankly admit it then loving her entirely and heartily even as she did him he would be led to look into the matter with all his heart and looking at it thus from a christian standpoint would not fail to be convinced and once convinced nothing would keep him from standing up firmly for the right thus reasoned del and watched with every passing day for the time to come she was always saying to herself perhaps this is the very day that is to set things right she said it on this particular afternoon perhaps he will be in to see father and then who knows what may happen someday i will frankly say to him you did me a great injustice that time don't you know you did and then i shall explain it all to him i am not sure but that would be the right true way to do i would have done it long ago if he had given me a chance but it was a good while ago more than a year now but he will not be in this afternoon i remember now he is in boston stopping with the burdens i wonder why they went to their townhouse so early this year poor laura and then del drew a little sigh as she could not help doing when she thought of that very young widow and how the brightness of her brief married life went out in such awful bloom something about laura made her think of mr nelson but she did not like to think of him during these days a very sad thing had come to pass it was nearly three weeks since he had called on her it was after her father was made comfortable and at rest for the night she had been so glad to see mr nelson in their cozy parlor she admired and liked him so much she had shown her pleasure so frankly and joyously but he had overwhelmed her in all their free glad meetings together it had never occurred to her that he was looking forward to her hopefully as his wife when he told her so in his frank hopeful way it smote her heart with a great grief in her carelessness she felt that she had led him astray she made all the reparation in her power she told him gently and humbly of her preoccupied heart of a certain trouble that came between them darkening her future but of her hope and belief that it would be cleared away in short she made him her confidant as she realized now that she ought to have done long before her confidant except that she spoke no name and gave no definite account of the trouble but after a painful silence he had suddenly said is it mr then has suddenly stopped and blushed to his very temples and added hastily i beg your pardon i have no right i thank you del for your confidence some other time i can talk with you good night and he suddenly vanished that was three weeks ago and she had not seen him since it seemed very hard that there must be just so many dark lives in this world just then occurred a break in her reverie tommy truman called with the mail the daily papers that uncle edward always sent tommy was in haste no time for a chat so del her father being still absorbed in his reading unfolded the crisp sheet and glanced down the column of daily news skimming one item after another until suddenly her eyes were riveted twice she read over the familiar words in boston october 23 at the residence of the bride's parents by reverend jc holbrook dd assisted by reverend chester truman dd reverend carol c trecevon of lewiston to mrs laura elliot only daughter of robert burton of the city the paper lay very still in del's lap she folded her hands above it and sat looking steadily into vacancy sat for she did not know how long but when she roused again the sunlight had disappeared thick leaden colored clouds were over the sky some of her leaves had dropped near the grate and the fire had withered them they rustled and broke underneath her feet as she arose and trod on them she took her little hearth broom and swept them all into the grate they blazed up for a moment and then smoldered and shriveled and died out del shivered the room was cold she closed the door and added more coal to the grate del my child said her father looking up from the book do you remember the night that i got you to come into that room over there and sing for us wretches and you sang a hymn yes father very well indeed well do you know child i really believe that was when your old father began to think you thought i was most asleep but i wasn't and you thought i went on from bad to worse after that and maybe i did but for all that you put words into my head that night that i never got rid of day or night afterward drink as hard as i could and the lord used them very words to bring me to myself at last del came over without speaking a word and wound her arms around her father's neck and laid her soft brown head against his gray one he would never know what balmy words he had been speaking nor how her sore heart needed them look here child he said leading forward again to the book i found a verse for you and me i'll read it and you see if it ain't exactly so i never came to that verse before and in slow tremulous tones he read and i will bring the blind by a way they knew not i will lead them in paths that they have not known i will make darkness white before them and crooked things straight these things will i do unto them and not forsake them del drew a quick breath yes father she said it is for us she had come to this verse before but it had never so come to her as she drew the shades and lighted the lamp and went about her father's tea and toast she whispered it over and over i will make darkness light before them and crooked things straight these things will i do unto them and not forsake them in a subsequent volume our readers will hear more of del the end end of chapter 24 end of the king's daughter by pansy recording by trisha g