 Chapter 4 and 5 of It's Never Too Late to Mend. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Maxwell. It is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reid. Chapter 4. The World is Full of Trouble. While we are young, we do not see how true this ancient homely saying is. That wonderful dramatic prologue, the first chapter of Job, is but a great condensation of the sorrows that fall like hail upon many immortal house. Job's black day, like the day of the poetic prophets, the true sacrivatis of the ancient world, is a type of a year, a bitter human year. It is terrible how quickly a human landscape, all gilded meadow, silver river, and blue sky, can cloud and darken. George Fielding had compared himself this very day to an oak tree. Even so, I am rooted to my native soil. His fate accepted his simile. The oak of centuries yields to an impalpable antagonist, whose very name stands in proverbs for weakness and insignificance. This thin little trifle, rendered impetuous by motion, buffets the king of the forest, tears his roots with fury out of the earth, and lays his towering head in the dust. And even so circumstances, none of them singly irresistible, converging to one point, buffeted sore another oak pride of our fields, and for ought I know of our whole island. An honest English yeoman, and tore him from his farm, from his house hard by his mother's grave, from the joy of his heart, his Susan, and sent him, who had never traveled a hundred miles in his life, across the world of waters, to keep sheep at the antipodes. A bereaved and desolate heart went with farmer Dodd in the geek to Newborough. Sad, desolate, and stricken hearts remained behind. When two loving hearts are torn, bleeding asunder, it is a shade better to be the one that is driven away into action than the bereaved twin that petrifies at home. The bustle, the occupation, the active annoyances are some sort of bitter distraction to an unfathomable grief. It is one little shade worse to lie solitary and motionless in the old scenes from which the sunlight is now fled. It needed but a look at Susan Merton as she sat moaning and quivering from head to toe in Georgia's kitchen to see that she was in no condition to walk back to Grasmere Farm tonight. So as she refused, almost violently refused, to stay at the grove, William harnessed one of the farm horses to a cart and took her home round by the road. It is six miles that way instead of three, but then we shant jolt her going that way, felt William. He walked by the side of the cart in silence. She never spoke but once all the journey, and that was about halfway, to complain in a sort of hopeless, pitiful tone that she was cold. It was a burning afternoon. William took off his coat and began to tie it round her by means of the sleeves. Susan made a little silent, peevish, and not very rational resistance. William tied it round her by brotherly force. They reached her home. When she got out of the cart, her eye was fixed, her cheek white. She seemed like one in a dream. She went into the house without speaking or looking at William. William was sorry she did not speak to him, however he stood disconsolidately by the cart, asking himself what he could do next for her and George. Presently he heard a slight rustle, and it was Susan coming back along the passage. She has left something in the cart, thought he, and he began to look in the straw. She came like one still in a dream and put her hand out to William, and it appeared that was what she had come back for. She shook her hand and pressed it to his bosom a moment. At this Susan gave a hysterical sobber to, and crept away again to her own room. What she suffered in that room the first month after George's departure, I could detail perhaps as well as any man living, but I will not. There is a degree of anguish one shrinks from intruding upon too familiarly in person, and even on paper the microscope should spare sometimes these beatings of the bared heart. It would be enough if I indicate by and by her state, after time and religion and good habits had begun to struggle, sometimes gaining, sometimes losing, against the tide of sorrow. For the present let us draw gently back and leave her, for she is bowed to the earth, fallen on her knees, her head buried in the curtains of her bed, dark, faint and leaden on the borders of despair, a word often lightly used through ignorance. Heaven keep us all for a single hour, here or hereafter, of the thing the word stands for, and heaven comfort all true and loving hearts that read me, when their turn shall come to drain the bitter cup like Susan Merton. Chapter 5 The moment George Fielding was out of sight, Mr. Meadows went to the public house, flung himself on his powerful black mare, and wrote homeward without a word. One strong passion after another swept across his troubled mind. He burned with love, he was sick with jealousy, cold with despondency, and for the first time smarted with remorse. George Fielding was gone, gone of his own accord, but like the flying Partheon he had shot his keenest arrow in the moment of defeat. What the better am I, thus ran this man's thoughts. I have opened my own eyes, and Susan seems farther from me than ever now. My heart is like a lump of lead here. I wish I had never been born. So much for scheming. I would have given a thousand pounds for this, and now I'd give double to be as I was before. I had honest hopes then. Now where are they? How lucky it seemed all to go, too. Ah, that is it. May all your good luck turn to wormwood. That was his word, his very word. And my good luck is wormwood. So much for lifting a hand against grey hairs, Jew or Gentile. Why did the old heath improve me then? I'd as soon die as lived this day. That's right, started a handful of straw, lie down in it one minute, and tremble at the sight of it the next, you idiot. Oh Susan, Susan, why do I think of her? Why do I think of her? She loves that man with every fiber of her body. How she clung to him, how she grew to him. And I stood there and looked on it, and did not kill them both. Seen it. I see it now. It is burned into my eyes and my heart forever. I am in hell. I am in hell. Hold up, you blundering fool. Has the devil got into you, too? Perdition sees him. May he die and rot before the years out. Ten thousand miles from home. May his ship sink to the bottom of the... What right have I to curse the man, as well as drive him across the sea? Curse yourself, John Meadows. They are true lovers, and I have parted them, and looked on and seen their tears. Heaven pity them and forgive me. So he knew of his brother's love for her after all. Why didn't he speak to me, I wonder, as well as to Will Fielding? The old Jew warned him against me, I'll swear. Why? Why, because you are a respectable man, John Meadows, and he thought a hint was enough to a man of character. I do suppose I am safe from villainy here, says he. That lad spared me. He could have given me a red face before them all. Now if there are angels that float in the air and see what passes among us sinners, how must John Meadows have looked besides George Fielding that moment? This love will sink my soul. I can't breathe between these hedges. My temples are bursting. Oh, you want to gallop, do you? Gallop then, and faster than you ever did since you were foaled, Count Foundry. With this he spurred his mare furiously up the bank, and went crushing through the dead hedge that surmounted it. He struck his hat at the same moment, fiercely from his head. It was fast by a black ribbon to his buttonhole, and as they lighted by a descent of some two feet on the edge of a grass field, he again drove his spurs into his great fiery mare, all vain and bone. Black Rachel snorted with amazement at the spur, and with warlike delight at finding grass beneath her feet, and free air whistling round her ears, she gave one gigantic bound like a buck with arching back and all four legs in the air at once. It would have unseated many a rider, but never moved to the Iron Meadows, and with dilating nostril and ears laid back, she hurled herself across country like a stone from a sling. Meadows house was about four miles and a half distant as the crow flies, and he went home today as the crow flies, faster. None would have known the staid respectable meadows in this figure that came flying over the hedge and ditch and brook, his hat dangling and leaping like mad behind him, his hand now and then clutching his breast, his heart tossed like a boat among the breakers, his lips white, his teeth clenched, and his eyes blazing. The mare took everything in her stride, but at last they came somewhat suddenly on an enormous high stiff fence. To clear it was impossible. By this time man and beast were equally wrecklers. They went straight into it and through it as a bullet goes through a pane of glass and on again over brook and fence plowed field and meadow, till meadows found himself, he scarce knew how, at his own door. His old deaf servant came out from the stable yard and gazed in astonishment at the mare, whose flank panted, whose tail quivered, whose back looked as if she had been in the river and her belly was stained with a half dozen different kinds of soil and a rider's face streamed with blood from a dozen scratches he had never felt. Meadows flung himself from the saddle and ran up to his own room. He dashed his face and his burning hands into water. This seemed to do him little good. He came downstairs, he lighted a pipe, we are the children of habit. He sat with his eyebrows painfully bent. People called on him, he fiercely refused to see them. For the first time in his life, he turned his back on business. He sat for hours by the fireplace. A fierce mental struggle wrenched him to and fro. Evening came, still he sat collapsed by the fireplace. From his window, among other objects, two dwellings were visible. One, distant four miles, was a whitewashed cottage tiled instead of thatched, adorned with creepers and roses very clean, but in other respects little superior to labor's cottages. The other, distant six long miles, was the grass-mere farmhouse, where the merchants lived. The windows seemed burnish-gold this evening. In the small cottage lived a plain old woman, a Methodist. She was Meadows mother. She did not admire worldly people, still less envied them. He was too good a churchman and man of business to prevent people's or psalm singing at odd hours in his house, so she preferred living in her own, which moreover was her own, her very own. The old woman never spoke of her son and checked all complaints of him and snubbed all experimental eulogies of him. Meadows never spoke of his mother, paid her a small allowance with irregularity and affectionate grace of clockwork. Never asked her if she didn't want any more, would not have refused her if she had asked for more. This evening, while the sun was shining with all his evening glory on Susan Merton's house, Meadows went slowly to his window and pulled down the blind, and drawing his breath hard shut the loved prospect out. He then laid his hand upon the table and he said, I swear by the holy bread and wine I took last month that I will not put myself in the way of this strong temptation. I swear I will go no more to grass-mere farm, never so long as I love Susan. He added faintly, unless they send for me and they won't do that, and I won't go of my own accord, I swear it. I have sworn it, however, and I swear it again, unless they send for me. Then he sat by the fire with his head in his hands, a posture he never was seen in before. Next he wrote a note and sent it hastily with a horse and cart to that small whitewashed cottage. Old Mrs. Meadows sat in her doorway reading a theological work called Believer's Buttons. She took the note, looked at it. Why, this is from John, I think. What can he have to say to me? She put on her spectacles again which she had taken off on the messenger first accosting her, and deliberately opened, smoothed and read the note. It ran thus. Mother, I am lonely. Come over and stay a while with me, if you please. You're a dutiful son, John Meadows. Here, Hannah cried the old woman to a neighbor's daughter that was nearly always with her. Hannah, a comely girl of 14, came running in. Here's John, wants me to go over to his house. Get me the pen and ink girl out of the cupboard and I'll write him a word or two anyway. Is there anything amiss? She said quickly to the man. He came in with the black mayor all in a lather just after dinner and sold since. That's all I know, Missus. I think something has put him out and he isn't soon put out, you know. He isn't. Hannah left the room after placing the paper as she was bid. You will all be put out that trust to an arm of flesh, all of ye, master or man, Dick Messenger, said the disciple of John Wesley, somewhat grimly. I am be put out of the kingdom of heaven too, if you don't take heed. Is that the news I'm to take back to farm borough, Missus? Said the messenger with quiet rustic irony. No, I'll write to him. The old woman wrote a few lines reminding meadows that the pursuit of earthly objects could never bring any steady comfort and telling him that she should be lost in his great house. That it would seem quite strange to her to go into town after so many years quiet, but that if he was minded to come out and see her she would be glad to see him and glad of the opportunity to give him her advice. If he was in a better frame after listening to it than the last time she offered it to him, and that was two years come, Martin Mass. Then the old woman paused. Next she reflected and afterward dried her unfinished letter as she began slowly to fold it up and put it in her pocket. Hannah, she cried thoughtfully. Hannah appeared in the doorway. I dare say you may fetch my cloak and bonnet. Why, if the winch hasn't got them on her arm, what, you made up your mind that I should go, then? That I did, replied Hannah. Your warm shaws in the cart, Mrs. Meadows. Oh, you did, did you? Young folks are apt to be sure it's certain. I was in two minds about it, so I don't see how the child could be sure, said she, dividing her remark between vacancy and the person addressed, a grammatical privilege of old age. Oh, but I was sure for that matter, replied Hannah firmly. And what made the little winch for sure, I wonder, said the old woman, now in her black bonnet and scarlet cloak? Why, la, said Hannah, because it's your son, ma'am, and you're his mother, Day Meadows. End of Chapter 5. Chapter 6, Part 1 of It Is Never Too Late to Mend. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Maxwell. It is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reid. Chapter 6, Part 1 John Meadows had always been an active man, but now he was indefatigable. He was up at 5 every morning and seemed ubiquitous, added a gray gilding to his black mare, and rode them both nearly off their legs. He surveyed land in half a dozen counties. He speculated grain in a half a dozen markets, and did business and shares. His plan in dealing with this ticklish speculation was simple. He listened to nothing anybody said, examined the venture himself, and if it had a sound basis, bought when the herd was selling and sold when the herd was buying. Hence, he bought cheap and sold dear. He also lent money and contrived to solve the usurer's problems. Perfect security and huge interest. He arrived at this by his own sagacity and the stupidity of mankind. Mankind are not wanting an intelligence, but as a body they have one intellectual defect. They are muddleheads. Now these muddleheads have agreed to say that land is in all cases five times a sure security for money lent, their movables are. Whereas the fact is that sometimes it is, and sometimes it is not. Owing to the above delusion, the proprietor of land can always borrow money at four percent and other proprietors are often driven to give ten, twenty, thirty. So John Meadows lent mighty little upon land, but much upon oak ricks, wagons, advantageous leases and such things, solid his land and more easily convertible into cash. Thus without risk he got his twenty percent. Not that he appeared in these transactions. He had too many good irons in the fire to let himself be called a usurer. He worked this business as three thousand respectable men are working it in this nation. He had a human money bag whose strings he went behind a screen and pulled. The human money bag of Meadows was Peter Crawley. This Peter Crawley, some years before our tale, lay crushed beneath a barraful of debts. Many of them to publicans. In him other saw cunning fool and assot. Meadows an unscrupulous tool. Meadows wanted a tool and knew the cheapest way to get the thing was to buy it. So he bought up all Crawley's debt, sued him, got judgements out against him and raising the axe of the law over Peter's head with his right hand, he offered him the left hand of fellowship with his left. Down on his knees went Crawley and resigned his existence to this great man. Human creatures whose mission it is to do whatever a man secretly bids them in long and interesting descriptions. Crawley was 50, wore a brown wig, the only thing about him that did not attempt disguise and slouched in a brown coat and a shirt peppered with snuff. In this life he was an infinitesimal attorney. Previously, unless Pythagoras was a goose, he had been a pole cat. Meadows was ambidextor. The two hands he gathered coin with were Meadows and Crawley. The first his honest hardworking hand, the second his three-fingered jack, his pressed to digital hand. With both he now worked harder than ever. He hurried from business to business, could not wait to chat or drink a glass of ale after it. It was all work, work, work, money, money with John Meadows and everything he touched turned to gold in his hands. Yet for all this burning activity the man's heart had never been so little in business. His activity was the struggle of a sensible, strong mind to fight against its one weakness. Sedit amor rebus. Res ag etutus ares is a very wise saying and Meadows by his own observation and instinct sought the best antidote for love. But the Latins had another true saying that nobody is wise at all hours. After his day of toil and success he used to be guilty of a sad inconsistency. He shut himself up at home for two hours and smoked his pipe and ran his eye over the newspaper but his mind over Susan Merton. Worse than this in his frequent rides he used to go a mile or two out of his way to pass Grasmere Farmhouse and however fast he rode the rest of his journey he always let his nag walk by the Farmhouse and his eye brightened with hope as he approached it and his heart sank as he passed it without seeing Susan. He now bitterly regretted the bow he had made never to visit the Mertens again unless they sent for him. He had forgotten me altogether he said bitterly. Well, the best thing I can do is forget them. Now Susan had forgotten him. She was absorbed in her own grief but Merton was laboring under a fit of rheumatism and this was the reason why Meadows and he did not meet. In fact Farmer Merton often said to his daughter John Meadows has not been to see us in a long while. Hasn't he fathered? Was Susan's languid and careless reply. One Sunday Meadows weakened by his inner struggle could not help going to Grasmere Church. At least he would see her face. He had seated himself where he could see her. She took her old place by the pillar nobody was near her. The light from a side window streamed full upon her. She was pale and the languor of sorrow was upon every part of her face but she was lovely as ever. Meadows watched her and noticed that more than once about any visible reason her eyes filled with tears but she shed none. He saw how hard she tried to give her whole soul to the services of the church and to the word of the preacher. He saw her succeed for a few minutes at a time and then with a lover's keen eye he saw her heart fly away in a moment from prayer and praise and consolation and follow and overtake the ship that was carrying her George farther and farther away from her across the sea. And then her lips quivered with earthly sorrow even as she repeated words that came from heaven and tried to bind to her heavy heart the prayers for succor in every mortal ill the promises of help in every mortal well with which holy church and holier writ comfort her and all the pure of hearts in every age. Then Meadows, who up to this moment had been pitying himself had a better thought and pitied Susan. He even went so far as to feel that he ought to pity George but he did not do it. He could not. He envied him too much but he pitied Susan and he longed to say something kind and friendly to her even though there should not be a word or a look of love in it. Susan went out by one of the church doors Meadows by another intending to meet her casually upon the road home. Susan saw his intention and took another pass so that he could not come up with her without following her. Meadows turned upon his heel and went home with bitterness. She hates the sight of me was his interpretation. For Susan she hated nobody. She only hated to have to speak to a stranger and to listen to a stranger and in her present grief all were strangers to her except him she had lost and her father. She avoided Meadows not because he was Meadows but because she wanted to be alone. Meadows rode home despondently then he fell to abusing his folly and vowed he would think more and more. The next day finding himself at six o'clock in the evening seated by the fire in a reverie he suddenly started fiercely up saddled his horse and rode into Newborough and putting up his horse strolled about the streets and tried to amuse himself looking at the shops before they closed. Now it so happened that stopping before a bookseller shop he saw advertised a work upon the Australian colonies. Confound Australia said Meadows to himself and turned on his hill but the next moment with a sudden change of mind he returned and bought the book. He did more he gave the tradesmen in order for every approved work on Australia that was to be had. The bookseller as it happened was going up to London next day so that in the evening Meadows had some dozen volumes in his house and a tolerably correct map for certain Australian districts. Let me see said Meadows what chance that chap has of making a thousand pounds out there. There was no debt the beginning of it but it did not end there. The intelligent Meadows had not read a hundred pages before he found out what a wonderful country this Australia is. How worthy a money-getter's attention or any thoughtful man's. It seemed as if his rival drew Meadows after him wherever he went so fascinated was he with the subject and now all the evening he sucked the books like a leech. Men observed about this time in Mr. Meadows which he had never shown before and in eternal restlessness they little divine the clause or dreamed what a vow he had made and what it cost him every day to keep it. So strong was the struggle within him that there were moments when he feared he should go mad and then it was that he learned the value of his mother's presence in the house. There was no explanation between them there could be no sympathy. Had he opened his heart to her he knew she would have denounced his love for Susan Merton as a damnable crime. Once she invited his confidence what else you John said the old woman you had better tell me you would feel easier on thinking. But he turned it off a little fretfully and she never returned to the charge but there could be no direct sympathy yet there was a soothing influence in this quaint old woman's presence. She moved quietly about protecting his habits not disturbing them. She seemed very thoughtful too and cast many a secret glance of inquiry and interest at him when he was not looking at her. This had gone on some weeks when, one afternoon Meadows who had been silent his death for a full half hour started from his chair and said with sudden resolution mother I must leave this part of the country for a while. That is news John. Yes I shall go into the mining district for six months or a year perhaps. Well go John I think you can't do better than go. I will and no later than tomorrow. That is sudden. If I was to give myself time to think I should never go at all he went out briskly with the energy of this determination. The same evening about seven o'clock as he sat reading by the fire an unexpected visitor was announced Mr. Merton. He came cordially in and scolded Meadows for never having been to see him. You might have given us a look in coming home from market it is only a mile out of the way and you are pretty well mounted in a general way. Then the old man, a gossip took up one of Meadows books Australia grunted Merton and dropped it like a hot potato. He tried another why this is Australia too why they are all Australia as I am a living center and he looked with a rueful curiosity into Meadows face. He was colored but soon recovered his external composure. I have friends there he said hastily who tell me there are capital investments in that country and they say no more than the truth. Do you think he will do any good out there asked the old man lowering his voice. I can't say answered Meadows dryly tell us something about that country John said Merton and if he was to ask me to take a glass of your home brewed ale I don't think I should gain say you. The old farmer sat open mouth transfixed with interest listening to his friends clear intelligent and masterly descriptions of this wonderful land at last the clock struck nine he started up an astonishment I shall get a scolding if I stay later he said and off he went to Grasmere the old farmer sat open mouth transfixed with interest listening to his friends clear intelligent and masterly descriptions of this wonderful land he said and off he went to Grasmere have you nothing else to say to me as Meadows as the farmer put his foot in the stirrup not that I know of replied the other and cantered away confound him muttered Meadows he comes and stops here three hours drinks my ale gets my knowledge without the trouble of digging for it and goes away and not a word from Susan or even a word about her is not to have it I will be in Devonshire this time tomorrow no tomorrow is market day but the day after I will go I cannot live here and not see her nor speak to her it will drive me mad the next morning as Meadows mounted his horse to ride to market a Carter's boy came up to him and taking off his hat and pulling his head down by the front lock by way of salute put a note into his hand Meadows took it and opened it carelessly it was a handwriting he did not know but his eye had no sooner glanced at the signature than his eyes gleamed in his whole frame trembled with emotion he could hardly hide this was the letter Dear Mr. Meadows we have not seen you here a long time and if you could take a cup of tea with us on your way home from market my father would be glad to see you if it is not troubling you too much I believe he has some calves he wishes to show you I am yours respectfully Susan Merton P.S. father has been confined by rheumatism and I have not been well this last month Meadows turned away from the messenger and said quietly tell Miss Merton I will come if possible he galloped off and as soon as there was no one in sight gave vent to his face and his exulting soul now he congratulated himself on his goodness in making a certain vow and his firmness in keeping it I kept out of their way and they have invited me my conscience is clear he then asked himself why Susan had invited him and he could not but augur the most favorable results from this act on her part true his manner to her had never gone beyond friendship but women he argued are quick to discern their admirers under every disguise she was dull and out of spirits and wrote for him to come to her this was a great point a good beginning between her and George and I am here with time and opportunity on my side said Meadows and as these thoughts coursed through his heart his gray nag spurred by an unconscious heal broke into a hand gallop and after an hour and a half hard riding they clattered into the town of Newborough the habit of driving hard bargains is a good thing for teaching a man to suppress his feelings and feign indifference yet the civil nonchalance with which Meadows on his return from Newborough walked into the Burton's Polar cost him no ordinary struggle the farmer received him cordially Susan civilly and with a somewhat feeble smile the former soon engaged him in agricultural talk Susan meanwhile made the tea in silence and Meadows began to think she was capricious and had no sooner got what she asked for than she did not care for it after a while however she put in a word here and there but with a discouraging languor presently farmer Merton brought her his teacup to be replenished and upon this opportunity Susan said a word to her father in an undertone oh I replied the farmer very loud indeed and Susan colored what was he saying to me about that country that Christmas day is the hottest day in the year began Mr. Merton Meadows assented and Merton proceeded to put other questions in order it appeared to draw once more from Meadows the interesting information of last night Meadows answered shortly and with repugnance then Susan put in and is it true sir that the flowers are beautiful to the eye but have no smell and that the birds have all gay feathers but no song then Susan scarcely giving him time to answer proceeded to put several questions and her manner was no longer languid she was bright and animated she wound up her interrogatories with this climax and do you think sir is a country where George will be able to do any good and will he have his health in that land so far from everyone to take care of him and this doubt raised the bright eyes were dimmed with tears in a moment Meadows gasped out why not why not but soon after muttering some excuse about his horse he went out with a promise to return immediately he was no sooner learned than he gave way to a burst of rage and bitterness so she only sent for me here to make me tell her about that infernal country where her George is I'll ride home this instant this very instant without bidding them goodbye cooler thoughts came he mused deeply a few minutes and then clinching his teeth returned slowly to the litter pallor he sat down and took his line with a brisk and cheerful stare you were asking me some questions about Australia I can tell you all about that country for I have a relation there who writes to me and I've read all the books about it too as it happens Susan brightened up Meadows by a great histrionic effort brightened up too and poured out a flood of really interesting facts and anecdotes about this marvelous land then in the middle of a narrative which enchained both his hearers he suddenly looked at his watch and putting on a fictitious look of dismay and annoyance started up with many excuses and went home not however until Susan had made him promise to come again next market day as he rode home in the moonlight Susan's face seemed still before him the bright look of interest she had given him the grateful smiles with which she had thanked him for his narration all this had been so sweet at the moment so bitter upon the last reflection his mind was in a whirl at last he grasped at one idea and held it as with a vice I shall be always welcome to her if I can bring myself to talk about that detestable country well I will grind my tongue down to it she shall not be able to do without my chat that shall be the beginning the middle shall be different the end shall be just the opposite the C is between him and her I am here with opportunity resolution and money I am here with her the next morning his mother said to him John do you think to go today where mother the journey you spoke of what journey among the minds not I you have changed your mind then what didn't you see I was joking no very dryly soon after this little dialogue Dame Meadows proposed to end her visit to her home her son yielded a cheerful assent she went gravely and quietly back to her little cottage Meadows had determined to make himself necessary to Susan Merton he brought a woman's cunning to bear against a woman's for the artifice to which his strong will bent his supple talent is one that many women have had the tact and temporary self-denial to carry out but not one man in a hundred carrying at him etc by which means the asses make their absent foe present to her mind and enlist the whole woman in his defense but Meadows was no ordinary man Susan had given his quick intelligence a glimpse of a way to please her he looked at the end and crushed his will down to the thorny means twice a week he called on the Merton's and much of his talk was Australia Susan was grateful to hear of the place where George would soon be the approach she could make to hearing of George as for Meadows he gained a great point but he went through tortures on the way he could not hide from himself why he was so welcome and many a time as he rode home from the Merton's he resolved never to return there but he took no more oaths it had cost him so much to keep the last and that befell which might have been expected after a while the pleasure of being near the woman he loved and her and greeted with pleasure however slight grew into a habit and a need Achilles was a man of steel but he had a vulnerable part and iron natures like John Meadows have often one spot in their souls where they are far tenderer than the universal doveite and weaker than the omnipotent he never spoke a word of love to Susan he knew it would spoil all and she occupied with another's image and looking upon herself as confessedly belonging to another never suspected the deep passion that filled this man's heart but if an observer of nature had a company John Meadows on market day he might have seen diagnostics all the morning his eye was cold and quick, his mouth went silent close, firm and unreadable his voice clear decided and occasionally loud but when he got to old Merton's fireside he mellowed and softened like the sun toward evening there his forehead his voice pitched in quite a different key from his key of business turned also low and gentle and soothed and secretly won the hearer by its deep, rich and pleasant modulation and variety and his eye turned deeper in color and losing its keenness and restlessness dwelt calmly and pensively for minutes at a time upon some little household object close to Susan seldom unless quite unobserved Susan herself but the surrounding rustic suspected nothing so calm and deep ran Meadows dear heart said Susan to her father who would have thought Mr. Meadows would come a mile out of his way twice a week to talk about me and Gio about the country where my heart is and the folks say he thinks of nothing but money and won't move a step without making it the folks are envious of him girl that is all John Meadows is too clever for fools too industrious for the lazy ones he's a good friend of mine Susan if I wanted to borrow a thousand pounds I have only to draw on Meadows he has told me so half a dozen times we don't want his money father replied Susan nor anybody's but I think a great deal of his kindness and George shall thank him when he comes home if he ever comes home to Susan again these last words brought many tears with them which the old farmer pretended not to notice for he was getting tired of his daughter's tears they were always flowing now at the least word and she used to be so good-humored and cheerful like poor Susan she was very unhappy if anyone had said to her tomorrow you die she would have smiled on her own account and only sighed at the pain the news would cause poor George her George was gone her mother had been dead this two years her life which had been full of innocent pleasures was now utterly tasteless except in its hours of bitterness when sorrow overcame her like a flood she had a pretty flower garden in which she used to work when George was at home what pleasure it had been to plant them with her lover's help to watch them expand to water them in the summer evening to smell their gratitude for the artificial shower after a sultry day and then to have George in and set him admiring them with such threadbare enthusiasm simply because they were hers not in the least because they were natures end of chapter six part one chapter six part two of it is never too late to mend this is a library box recording all library box recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librarybox.org recording by Mary Maxwell it is never too late to mend by Charles Reed chapter six part two I will go back like the epic writers and sketch one of their little garden scenes one evening after watering them all she sat down on a seat at the bottom of the garden and casting her eyes over her whole domain said well now I do admire flowers don't you George that I do replied George taking another seat and coolly turning his back partare and gazing mildly into Susan's eyes why he is not even looking at them cried Susan and she clapped her hands and laughed gleefully oh yes he is least ways he is looking at one of them and the brightest of the lot to my fancy Susan colored with pleasure in the country compliments don't drip constantly on beauty even from the lips of love then suppressing her satisfaction she said you will look for a flower in return for that young man come and let us see whether there is one good enough for you so then they took hands and Susan drew him demurely about the garden presently she stopped with a little start of hyper critical admiration at their feet shown a marigold Susan called the gaudy flower and placed it affectionately in George's buttonhole he received it proudly and shaking hands with her for it was time to part turned away slowly she let him take a step or two then called him back he was really going off with that nasty thing she took it out of his buttonhole rubbed it against his nose with well feigned anger and then threw it away you are all behind in flowers George said Susan here this is good enough for you and she brought out from under her apron where she carried the furtively cold treasure a lovely clove pink pretty soul she had nursed and watered and cherished this choice flower three weeks past for George and this was her way of giving it him at last so a true woman gives her life if need be George took it and smelled it and lingered a moment at the garden gate and moralized on it well Susan dear now I'm not so deep in flowers as you but I like this a deal better than the marigold and I'll tell you for why it is more like you Susan I why I see flowers that are pretty but have no smell and I see women that have good looks but no great wisdom or goodness when you come nearer to them now the marigold is like those lasses but this pink is good as well as pretty so then it will stand for you when we are apart as we mostly are worse luck for me oh George said Susan dropping her quizzing manner I'm a long way behind the marigold or any flower and comeliness and innocence but at least I wish I was better I don't I but I do ten times better for for for why Susan Susan closed the garden gate and took a step toward the house then turning her head over her shoulder with an ineffable look of tenderness tipped with one tint of lingering archeness she let fall for your sake George in the direction of George's feet and glided across the garden into the house George stood watching her he did not at first take up all she had bestowed on him for her sex had peculiar mastery over language being diabolically angelically subtle in the art of saying something that expresses one ounce and implies one carrot weight but when he did comprehend his heart exalted he strode home as if he trod on air and often kissed the little flower he had taken from the beloved hand and with it words of so sweet breath as opposed as made the thing more rich and as he marched past the house kissing the flower need I tell my reader that so innocent a girl as Susan was too high minded to watch the effect of her proceedings from behind the curtains I hope not it would surely be superfluous to relate what none would be green enough to believe these were Susan's happy days now all was changed she hated to water her flowers now she bade one of the farm servants look to the garden he accepted the charge and her flowers drooping heads told how nobly he had fulfilled it Susan was charitable every day it had been her custom to visit more than one poor person she carried meal to one soup to another linen to another meat and bread to another money to another to all words and looks of sympathy this practice she did not even give up now for it came under the head of her religious duties but she relaxed it she often sent to places where she used to go until George went she had never thought of herself and so that selfishness of those she relieved had not struck her now it made her bitter to see that none of those she pitied pitied her the moment she came into their houses it was my poor head Miss Burton my old bones do ache so I think a bit of your nice bacon would do me good I'm a poor sufferer Miss Merton I was listed I thought is how you'd forgotten me altogether but just hard for poor folk to keep a friend you see Miss my bedroom window is broken in one or two places John he stopped it up with paper the best way he could but lie bless you paper paint like glass it is very dull for me you see Miss I can't get about now as I used to could and I never was no great reader I often wish someone would stop in and knock me or I'd be no use I'd paint near a muscle though one of them looked up in her face and said locks how pal you have got to look Miss I hopes is how nothing amiss haven't happened to you that have been so kind to us this many a day yet suffering of some sort was plainly stamped on the face and in the manner of this relieving angel when they poured out their vulgar woes Susan made an effort to forget her own and to cheer as well as relieve them but she had to compress her own heart hard to do it and this suppression of feeling makes people more or less bitter she had better have out with it and scolded them well for talking as if they alone weren't happy but her woman's nature would not let her they kept asking her for pity and she still gulped down her own heart and gave it them till at last she began to take a spite against her pets so then she sent to most of them instead of going she sent rather larger slices than bacon and rather more yards of flannel than when she used to carry the light to them herself Susan had one or two young friends daughters of farmers in the neighborhood with whom she was a favorite though the gayer one sometimes quizzed her for her religious tendencies and her lamentable indifference to flirtation but then she was so good and so good humored and so tolerant of other people's tastes the prattle of these young ladies became now intolerable to Susan and when she saw them coming to call on her she used to snatch up her bonnet and fly and lock herself up in a closet at the top of the house and read some good book as quiet as a mouse till the servants had hunted for her and told them she must be out she was not in a frame of mind to sustain Tarlatans Barrage, the history of the last hop and the prophecies of the next the wounded deer shrunk from its gambling associates and indeed from all strangers John Meadows he talks to me about something worth talking about said Susan Merton it happened one day while Susan was in this sad and I may say dangerous state of mind that the servant came up to her and told her a gentleman was on his horse of the door and wanted to see Mr. Merton farmer is at market Jane yes miss but I told the gentleman you were at home me what have I to do with father's visitors miss replied Jane mysteriously it is a parson and you are so fond of them I could not think to let him go away without getting a word with anybody and he has such a face la miss he never saw such a face silly girl what have I to do with handsome faces but he is not handsome miss not in the least only he is beautiful you go and see else I hate strangers faces but I will go to him Jane it is my duty since it is a clergyman it is my duty since it is a clergyman I hate strangers la miss what for you are always neat you are nobody ever catches you in your disables like the rest of them I'll just smooth my hair la miss what for it is smooth as marble it always is where is he Jane in the front parlor I won't be a moment she went upstairs there was no necessity Jane was right there the vanity shall be no more more major on the girl must go up and look at herself in the glass if she did nothing more before coming in to receive company Susan entered the parlor she came in so gently that she had a moment to observe her visitor before he saw her he had seated himself with his back to the light and was devouring his stupid book on husbandry that belonged to her father the moment she closed the door he saw her and rose from the seat sir the living of this place has been vacant more than a month yes sir it will not be filled up for three months perhaps so we hear sir meantime you have no church to go to nearer than barm stoke which is a chapel of ease to this place but two miles distant two miles and a half sir so then the people here have no divine service on the Lord's day no sir not for the present she said meekly lowering her lashes if the clergyman had said this is a parish of heathens whereof you are one nor any servant of God to say a word of humility and charity to the rich of eternal hope to the poor and hear his voice sunk into sudden tenderness of comfort to the sorrowful Susan raised her eyes and looked him over with one dove-like glance then instantly lowered them no sir we are all under a cloud here said Susan sadly Miss Merton I have undertaken the duty here until the living shall be fixed up but you shall understand that I live 30 miles off and have other duties and I can only ride over here on Saturday afternoon and back Monday at noon oh sir cried Susan half a loaf is better than no bread the parish will bless you sir and no doubt she added timidly the Lord will reward you for coming so far to us I am glad you think so said the clergyman thoughtfully well let us do the best we can tell me first Miss Merton do you think the absence of a clergyman is regretted here regretted sir dear heart what a question you might as well ask me do father's turnips long for rain after a month's drought and Susan turned on her visitor a face into which the innocent venerating love her sex have for an ecclesiastic flashed without disguise her companion smiled but it was with benevolence not with gratified vanity let me explain my visit your father is one of the principal people in the village he can assist me or thwart me in my work I call to invite his cooperation some clergymen are jealous of cooperation I am not it is a good thing for all parties best of all for those who cooperate with us for in giving alms wisely they receive grace and in teaching the ignorant they learn themselves am I right rather sharply turning suddenly upon Susan oh sir said Susan will startle it is for me to receive your words not to judge them humph said the reverend gentleman rather dryly he hated intellectual subserviency he liked people to think for themselves and to end by thinking with him father will never thwart you sir and I I will cooperate with you sir if you will accept of me said Susan innocently thank you then let us begin at once you took out his watch I have an hour and a half to spare then I must gallop back to Oxford Miss Merton I should like to make acquaintance with some of the people suppose we go to the school and see what the children are learning and then visit one or two families in the village so I shall catch a glimpse of the three generations I have to deal with my name is Francis Eden you are going to get your bonnet yes sir thank you they passed out through the garden Mr. Eden stopped to look at the flowers Susan colored it has been rather neglected of late she said apologetically it must have been very well taken care of before then he said for it looks charming now I love flowers dearly and he gave a little sigh they reached the school and Mr. Eden sat down and examined the little boys and girls when he sat down Susan winced how angry he will be at their ignorance thought Susan instead of putting on an awful look and impressing on the children that a being of another generation was about to attack them made himself young to meet their minds a pleasant smile disarmed their fears he spoke to them in very simple words and childish idioms and told them a pretty story which interested them mightily having set their minds really working he put questions arising fairly out of his story and so fathomed the moral sense and the intelligence of more than one in short he drew the brats out instead of crushing them in Susan stood by at first startled at the line he took then observing then approving presently he turned to her and which is your class Miss Merton Susan colored I take these little girls when I come sir Miss Merton has not been here this fortnight said a perk teacher Susan could have beat her what will this good man think of me now I thought poor Susan to her grateful relief good man took no notice of the observation he looked at his watch now Miss Merton if I'm not giving you too much trouble and they left the school you wish to see some of the folk in the village sir yes where shall I take you first sir where I ought to go first Susan looked puzzled Mr. Eden stopped dead short come guess said he with a radiant smile don't look so scared I'll forgive you if you guess wrong Susan looked this way and that encouraged by his merry smile she let out scarce above a whisper and in a tone of interrogation as who should say this is not to be my last chance since I've only asked a question not risked an answer to the poorest Mr. Eden brava she has guessed it cried the Reverend Frank triumphantly for he had been more anxious she should answer right had herself young lady I have friends with her heads full of Latin and Greek who could not have answered that so quickly as you one proof more how goodness brightens intelligence added he in soliloquy here's a cottage yes sir I was going to take you into this one if you please they found in the cottage a romantic old man one of those we alluded to as full of his own complaints Mr. Eden heard these with patients after a few words of kind sympathy and acquiescence for he was none of those hard humbugs who tell a man that old age rheumatism and poverty are strokes with a feather he said quietly and now for the other side now tell me what you have to be grateful for the old man was taken back and his fluency deserted him on the question being repeated he began to say that he had many mercies to be thankful for then he higgled and hammered and fumbled for the said mercies and tried to enumerate them but in phrases conventional and derived from tracks and sermons whereas his statement of grievances had been idiomatic there that will do said Mr. Eden smiling say nothing you don't feel what is the use may I ask you a few questions added he courteously then without waiting for permission he dived skillfully into this man's life and fished up the more remarkable passages many years ago this old man had been a soldier and had fought in more than one great battle had retreated with Sir John Moore upon Corona and had been one of the battered and weary but invincible band who wheeled round and stunned the pursuers on that bloody and glorious day Mr. Eden went with the old man to Spain discussed with great animation the retreat, the battle, the position of the forces and the old soldier's personal prowess old giles perked up and dilated and was another man he forgot his rheumatism and even his old age twice he suddenly stood upright as a dart on the floor and gave the word of command like a trumpet in some brave captain's name and his cheek flushed and his eye glittered with the light of battle Susan looked at him with astonishment then when his heart was warm and his spirits attentive Mr. Eden began to throw in a few words of exhortation but even then he did not bully the man into being your Christian gently, firmly and with a winning modesty he said I think you have much to be thankful for like all the rest of us is it not a mercy you are not cut off in your wild and dissolute youth you might have been slain in battle that I might sir three of us went from this parish and only one came home again you might have lost a leg or an arm you might have been a cripple all your days that is true sir you survive here in a Christian land in possession of your faculties the world it is true has but few pleasures to offer you all the better for you oh if I could make that as plain to you as it is to me you have every encouragement to look for happiness there we're alone it is to be found then courage Corporal you stood firm at Corona give way in this year last and most glorious battle the stake is greater than it was at Vitoria or Salamanca or Corona or Waterloo the eternal welfare of a single human soul weighs a thousand times more than all the crowns and empires in the globe you are in danger sir discontent is a great enemy of the soul you must pray against it you must fight against it and so I will sir can you read Mr. Diles Susan had told Mr. Eden his name at the threshold yes sir but I can't abide these nasty little prints they bring me of course you can't printed to sell not to read eh here is a book the type is large clear and sharp this is an order book Corporal it comes from the great captain of our salvation every sentence in it is gold yet I think I may safely pick out a few for your special use at present he sat down and producing from his side pockets which were very profound some long thin slips of paper he rapidly turned the leaves of the testament and inserted his markers but this occupation did not for a moment interrupt his other proceedings there is a pipe you don't smoke I hope no sir, least way is not when I haven't got any backie and I've been out of that this three days worse luck give up smoking Corporal it is a foul habit ah sir you don't ever have a half empty belly and sorrowful heart where you wouldn't tell an old soldier to give up his pipe take my advice give up all such false consolation to oblige me now well sir to oblige you I'll try but you don't know what his pipe is to a poor old man full of nothing but aches and pains where you wouldn't have asked me an old guile's side Susan sighed too for she thought Mr. Eden cruel for once Miss Merton said the latter sternly his eye twinkling all the time he is incorrigible and I see you agree with me that is idle to torment the incurable so diving into the capacious pocket here is an ounce of his beloved poison an out came a paper of tobacco Corporal's eyes brightened with surprise and satisfaction poison him Miss Merton poison him quick don't keep him waiting poison him sir fill his pipe for him if you please that I will sir with pleasure a white hand with quick and supple fingers filled the brown pipe that is as it should be let beauty pay honor to courage above all to courage in its decay the old man grinned with gratified pride the white hand lighted the pipe and gave it to the old soldier he smiled gratefully all round and sucked his homely consolation I compound with you Corporal you must let me put you on the road to heaven and in return I must let you go there in a cloud of tobacco I'm agreeable sir said Giles dryly withdrawing his pipe for a moment there said Mr. Eden closing the Mark Testament read often in this book read first the verses I have marked for these very verses have dropped comfort on the poor the aged and the distressed for more than 1800 years and will till time shall be no more and now goodbye and God bless you God bless you sir wherever you go cried the old man with sudden energy for you have comforted my poor old heart I feel as I hadn't felt this many a day your words are like the bugles sounding a charge all down the line you must go I suppose but do ye come again and see me and Miss Merton you never come to see me now as you used Miss Merton has our occupations like the rest of us said Mr. Eden quickly but she will come to see you won't she oh yes sir replied Susan hastily so then they returned to the farm for Mr. Eden's horse was in the stable at the door they found Mr. Merton this is father sir father this is Mr. Eden that is coming to take the duty here for a while after the ordinary civilities Susan drew her father aside and exchanging a few words with him disappeared into the house as Mr. Eden was mounting his horse Mr. Merton came forward and invited him to stay at his house whenever he should come to the parish he hesitated sir said the farmer you will find no lodgings comfortable within a mile of the church and we have a large house not half occupied you can make yourself quite at home I am much obliged to you Mr. Merton but must not trespass too far upon your courtesy well sir replied the farmer we shall feel proud if you can put up with the light of us I will come I am much obliged to you sir and to your daughter Susan came out and stood on the steps and curtsied low rustic fashion but with a grace of her own he took off his hat to her as he rode out of the gate and gave her a sweet bright smile of a Jew and went down the lane 14 miles an hour old giles was seated outside his own door with a pipe and a book at the sound of horses feet he looked up and recognized his visitor whom he had seen pass in the morning he rose up erect and saluted him by bringing his thumb with a military wave to his forehead Mr. Eden saluted him in the same manner but without stopping the old soldier sat down again and read and smoked the pipe ended that solace was not of an immortal kind but the book remained he read it calmly but earnestly in the warm air till day declined End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 of it is never too late to mend this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Gregory Franklin it is never too late to mend by Charles Reid Chapter 7 the next Saturday Susan was busy preparing two rooms for Mr. Eden a homely but bright bedroom looking eastward and a snug room where he could be quiet downstairs snowy sheets and curtains and toilet cover showed the good housewife the windows were open and a beautiful nose gay of Susan's flowers on the table Mr. Eden's eye brightened at the comfort and neatness and freshness of the whole thing and Susan who watched him furtively felt pleased to see him pleased on Sunday he preached in the parish church the sermon was opposite to what the good people here had been subject to instead of the vague and cold generalities of an English sermon he drove home truths in business like English he used a good many illustrations and these were drawn from matters with which this particular congregation were conversant he was as full of similes here as he was sparing of them when he preached before the University of Oxford anyone who had read this sermon in a book of sermons would have divined what sort of congregation it was preached to a primrose of a sermon Mr. Eden preached from notes and to the people not the air like every born orator he felt his way with his audience whereas the preacher who is not an orator throws out his fine things hit or miss and does not know and feel and care whether he is hitting or missing open your hand shut your eyes and fling out the good seed so much per foot that is enough no this man preached to the faces and hearts that happened to be round him he established between himself and them a pulse every throb of which he felt and followed if he could not get hold of them one way he tried another he would have them he was not there to fail his discourse was human it was man speaking to man on the most vital and interesting topic in the world it was more it was brother speaking to brother hence some singular phenomena first when he gave the blessing which is a great piece of eloquence commonly reduced to a very small unbibinoteness or feeble delivery and uttered it like his discourse with solemnity warmth tenderness and all his soul the people lingered some moments in the church and seemed unwilling to go at all second nobody mistook their pew for their faux poster during the sermon this was the more remarkable as many of the congregation had formed a steady habit of coming to this place once a week with the single view of snatching a pose from earthly and heavenly cares the next morning Mr. Eden visited some of the poorest people in the parish Susan accompanied him all eyes and ears she observed that his line was not to begin by dictating his own topic but lie and wait for them let them first choose their favourite theme and so meet them on this ground and bring religion to bear on it oh how wise he is thought Susan and how he knows the heart one Sunday evening three weeks after his first official visit he had been by himself to see some of the poor people and on his return found Susan alone he sat down and gave an account of his visits how many ounces of tea and tobacco did you give away sir asked Susan with an arch smile four tea two tobacco replied the reverend gentleman I do notice sir you never carry gingerbread or the like for the children no the young don't want lollipops for they have youth old age wants everything so the old are my children tea and tobacco them after this there was a pause miss merton you have shown me many persons who need consolation but there is one you say nothing about have I sir who oh I think I know old dame Clayton no it is a young demoiselle then I don't know who it can be guess said Susan looking down it is yourself miss merton me sir why what is the matter with me that you shall tell me if you think me worthy of your confidence oh thank you sir I have my little crosses no doubt like all the world but I have health and strength I have my father my child you are in trouble you are crying when I came in indeed I was not sir how did you know I was crying when I came in you turned your back to me instead of facing me which is more natural when anyone enters a room and soon after you made an excuse for leaving the room and when you came back there was a drop of water in your right eyelash it need not have been a tear sir it was not it was water you had been removing the traces of tears girls are mostly always crying sir often they don't know for why but they don't care to have it noticed always nor would it be polite or generous but this of yours is a deep grief and alarms me for you shall I tell you how I know you often yawn and often sigh when these two things come together at your age they are signs of a heavy grief then it comes out that you have lost your relish for things that once pleased you the first day I came here you told me your garden had been neglected of late and you blushed in saying so old Giles and others asked you before me why you had given up visiting them you colored and looked down I could almost have told them but that would have made you uncomfortable you are in grief and no common grief nothing worth speaking to you about sir nothing I will ever complain of to anyone there I think you are wrong religion has consoled many griefs great griefs admit of no other consolation the sweetest exercise of my office is to comfort the heavy hearted your heart is heavy my poor lamb tell me what is it it is nothing sir that you would understand you are very skilled and notice taking as well as good but you are not a woman and you must excuse me sir if I beg you not to question me further on what would not interest you Mr. Eden looked at her compassionately and merely said to her again what is it in a low tone of ineffable tenderness at this Susan looked in a scared manner this way and that sir do not ask me pray do not ask me so then she suddenly lifted her hands my George has gone across the sea what shall I do and she buried her face in her apron dispersed of pure nature this simple cry of a suffering heart was very touching and Mr. Eden spite of his many experiences was not a little moved he sat silent looking on her as an angel might be supposed to look upon human griefs and as he looked on her various expressions chased one another across that eloquent face sweet and tender memories and regrets were not wanting among them after a long pause he spoke in a tone soft and gentle as a woman's and at first in a voice so faltering that Susan though her face was hidden felt there was no common sympathy there and silently put out her hand toward it he murmured consolation he said many gentle soothing things he told her that it was very sad the immense ocean should roll between two loving hearts but said he there are barriers more impassable than the sea better so than that he should be here and jealousy mistrust, caprice or even temper come between you I hope he will come back I think he will come back she blessed him for saying so she was learning to believe everything this man uttered from consolation he passed to advice you must do the exact opposite of what you have been doing must I you must visit those poor people I more than ever you did here patiently their griefs do not expect much in return neither sympathy nor a great deal of gratitude vulgar sorrow is selfish do it for God's sake and your own single heartedly go to the school return to your flowers and never shun innocent society however dull milk and water is a poor thing but it is a diluent and all we can do just now is to dilute your grief he made her promise next time I come tell me all about you and George give sorrow words the grief that does not speak whispers the over-fraught heart and bids it break oh that is a true word that is very true why a little of the lead seems to have dropped off my heart now I have spoken to you sir all the next week Susan bore up as bravely as she could and did what Mr. Eden had bade her and profited by his example she learned to draw from others the full history of their woes and she found that many a grief bitter as her own had passed over the dwellers in those small cottages it did her some little good to discover kindred woes and much good to go out of herself a while and pity them this drooping flower recovered her head a little but still the sweetest hour in all the working days of the week was that which brought John Meadows to talk to her of Australia End of Chapter 7 Recording by Gregory Franklin Chapter 8 Of It Is Never Too Late to Mend This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org It Is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reid Chapter 8 Susan Merton had two unfavored lovers It is well to observe how differently these two behaved William Fielding stayed at home through his whole soul into his farm and seldom went near the woman he loved but had no right to love Meadows dangled about the flame ashamed and afraid to own his love he fed it to a prodigious height by encouraging it and not expressing it William Fielding was moody and cross and sad enough at times but at others a little spark ignited inside his heart and a warm glow diffused itself from that small point over all his being I think this spark igniting was an approving conscience commencing its uphill work of making a disappointed lover but honest man content Meadows on his part began to feel content in a certain complacency take the place of his stormy feelings twice a week he passed two hours with Susan she always greeted him with a smile and naturally showed an innocent satisfaction visits managed as they were with so much art and self-restraint on Sunday too he always had a word or two with her Meadows though an observer of religious forms had the character of a very worldly man and Susan thought it highly to his credit that he came six miles to hear Mr. Eden but Mr. Meadows your poor horse said she one day I doubt it is no Sabbath to him now no more it is said Meadows as if a new light came to him from Susan the next Sunday he appeared in dusty shoes instead of top boots Susan looked down at them and saw and said nothing but she smiled her love of goodness and her vanity were both gratified a little Meadows did not stop there wherever Susan went he followed modestly in her steps nor was this mere cunning he loved her quite well enough to love her and try and feel with her and he began to be kinder to the poor and to feel good all over and comfortable he felt as if he had not an enemy in the world one day in Farmboro he saw William fielding on the other side of the street Susan Merton did not love William therefore Meadows had no cause to hate him he remembered William had asked alone of him and he had declined he crossed over to him good day Mr. William good day Mr. Meadows you were speaking to me one day about a trifling loan I could not manage it just then but now here Meadows paused he had been on the point of offering the money but suddenly by one of those instincts of foresight these able men have he turned it off thus but I know who will you go to Lawyer Crawley he lends money to people of credit I know he does but he won't lend it to me why not he does not like us he is a poor sneaking creature and my brother George he caught Crawley selling up some poor fellow or other and they had words least ways it went beyond words I fancy I don't know the rights of it but George was a little rough with him by all accounts and what is that to do with this said the man of business Cooley why I am George's brother and he saw his way to make a shilling out of you he would do it wouldn't he there you go to Crawley and ask him to lend you one hundred pounds and he will lend it to you only he will make you pay heavy interest heavier than I should you know if I could manage it myself oh I don't care said simple William thank you kindly Mr. Meadows and off he went to Crawley he found that worthy in his office Crawley who instantly guessed his errand and gave instructions from Meadows promised himself the satisfaction of refusing the young man he asked with a cringing manner in a treacherous smile what security sir poor William higgled and hammered and offered first one thing which was blandly declined for this reason then another which was blandly declined for that Crawley drinking deep drafts of mean vengeance all the while from the young man's shame and mortification a man walked in and gave Crawley a note and vanished Crawley opened the note it contained a check drawn by Meadows in these words lend WF the money at ten percent on his acceptance of your draft at two months Crawley put the note and check in his pocket well sir said he to William you stay here and I will see if I have got a loose hundred in the bank to spare he went over to the bank cashed the check drew a bill of exchange at two months date deducted the interest and stamp and William accepted it and Crawley bowed him out cringing smiling and secretly shooting poisoned arrows out of his venomous eye in the direction of William's heels William thanked him warmly this loan made him feel happy he had paid his brother's debt to the landlord by sacrificing a large portion of his grain at a time the price was low and now he was so cramped he had much adieu to pay his labor the loan came the very next day he bought several hogs hogs as George had sarcastically observed were William Fielding's hobby he had confidence in that animal potatoes and pigs versus sheep and turnips was the theory of William Fielding now the good understanding between William and Meadows was not to last long William though he was too wise to visit Grasmere Farm much was mindful of his promise to George in his memories after Susan he heard that Meadows called at the farm twice a week and he thought it a little odd he pondered on it but did not quite go the length of suspecting anything still less of suspecting Susan still he thought it odd but he thought it odder when one market day old Isaac Levi said to him do you remember the promise you made to the lion-hearted young man your brother do you ask that to affront me to visit her and others are not so neglectful who go this evening and you will see yes I will go and I will soon see if there is anything in it said William not stopping even to inquire why the old Jew took all this interest in the affair that evening as Meadows was in the middle of a description of the town of Sydney Susan started up why here is William Fielding and she ran out and welcomed him in with much cordiality excess of cordiality William came in and saluted the farmer in Meadows in his dogged way Meadows was not best pleased but kept his temper admirably and leaving Australia engaged both the farmers in a conversation on home topics Susan looked disappointed Meadows was content with that and the party separated half an hour sooner than usual the next market evening in strolls William Meadows again plays the same game this time Susan could hardly restrain her temper she did not want to hear about the grassmere acres and the grove and oxen and hogs but about something that mattered to George but when the next market evening William arrived before Mr. Meadows she was downright provoked and gave him short answers which raised his suspicions and made him think he had done wisely in coming this evening Susan excused herself and went to bed early she was in Farnborough the next market day and William met her and said I'll take a cup of tea with you tonight Susan if you are agreeable William said Susan sharply what makes you always come to us on market day I don't know what makes Mr. Meadows come that day because he passes our house to go to his own I suppose but you live but two miles off you can come any day you're minded should I be welcome Susan what do you think Will speak your mind I don't understand you seems to me I was not very welcome the last time if I thought that I wouldn't come again replied Susan as sharp as a needle then instantly repenting a little she explained you are welcome to me well and you know that as well as I do but I want you to come some other evening if it is all the same to you why why because I am dull other evenings and it would be nice to have a chat with you would it Susan of course it would but that evening I have company and he talks to me of Australia nothing else sneered the unlucky William Susan gave him such a look and that interest me more than anything you can say to me if you won't be offended snap Susan William bit his lip well then I won't come this evening eh Susan no don't that is a good soul La Femme sent impetuable pour soquel name and pa this is a harsh saying and of course not pure truth but there is a deal of truth in it William was proud and the consciousness of his own love for her made him less able to persist for he knew she might be so ungenerous as to retort if he angered her too far so he altered the direction of his battery he planted himself at the gate of and as meadows got off his horse requested a few words with him meadows ran him over with one lightening glance and then the whole man was on the defensive William bluntly opened the affair you heard me promise to look on Susan as my sister and keeper as she is for my brother that is far away I heard you Mr. William said meadows with a smile that provoked William as the artful one intended it should you come here too often sir too often for who too often for me too often for George too often for the girl herself I won't have George's sweetheart talked about you were the first to talk about her if they are scandal it is of your making I won't have it at a word meadows called out Miss Merton will you step here William was astonished at his audacity he did not know his man he did not know his man Susan opened the parlor window what is it Mr. Meadows will you step here if you please Susan came here is a young man tells me I must not call on your father or you I say you must not do it often enough to make her talk dove who dares to talk of me cried Susan scarlet nobody Miss Merton nobody but the young man himself and so I told him is your father within with him anyway and the slime meadows vanished to give Susan an opportunity of quarreling with William while she was hot I don't know how you came to take such liberties with me began Susan quite pale now with anger it is for George's sake said William doggedly did George bid you insult my friends and me I would not put up with it from George himself much less from you I shall write to George and ask him whether he wishes me to be brave don't you do so don't set my brother against me remonstrated William the best thing you can do is to go home and mind your farm and get a sweetheart for yourself and then you won't trouble your head about me more than you had any business to do this last cut wounded William to the quick good evening Susan good evening won't you shake hands it would serve you right if I said no don't make of you so much importance as you want to be there and come again as soon as ever you can treat my friends with respect I shan't trouble you again for a while said William sadly goodbye God bless you Susan dear when he was gone the tears came into Susan's eyes but she was bitterly indignant with him for making a scene about her which a really modest girl hates on her reaching the parlor Mr. Meadows was gone too and that incensed her still more against William Mr. Meadows is affronted no doubt said she and of course he would not come here to be talked of he would not like that any more than I a man comes here to us out of pure good nature and nothing else the next market day the deep Meadows did not come Susan missed him in his talk she had few pleasures and this was one of them but the next after he came as usual and Susan did not conceal her satisfaction she was too shy and he too wise to elude to William's interference they both ignored the poor fellow in his honest clumsy attempt William discomfited but not convinced determined to keep his eye upon them both I swore it and I'll do it said this honest fellow but I can't face her tongue it goes through me like a pitchfork but as for him and he clinched his fist most significantly then he revolved one or two plans in his head and rejected them each in turn at last a thought struck him Mr. Levi he twas that put me on my guard I'll tell him accordingly he recounted the whole affair in his failure to Mr. Levi the old man smiled you are no match for either of these you have given the maiden a fence just a fence just a fence Mr. Levi now don't you say so Mr. Levi how? by your unskillfulness my son it is all very well for you to say that sir but I can tell you women are kiddle folk manage them who can I don't know what to do I'm sure stay at home until the land replied Isaac somewhat dryly I will go to Grasmere Farm End of Chapter 8 Recording by Philip Gould Chapter 9 It is never too late to mend This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Gregory Franklin It is never too late to mend by Charles Reid Chapter 9 You going to leave us Mr. Eden and going to live in a jail oh Mr. Eden I can't bear to think of it you to be cooped up there among thieves and rogues and perhaps murderers they have the more need of me and you who love the air of heaven so why sir I see you take off your very hat at times to enjoy it as you are walking along you would be choked in a prison besides sir it is only little parson that go there what are little parson those that are not clever enough or good enough to be bishops and vicars and so forth not such ones as you how odd this is exactly what the devil whispered in my ear when the question was first raised but I did not expect to find you on his side didn't you sir ah well if tis your duty I know I may as well hold my tongue and then such as you are not like other folk you come like sunshine to some dark place and when you have warmed it and lighted it a bit heaven that sent you will have you go and shine elsewhere you came here sir you waked up the impenetent folk in this village and comforted the distressed and relieved the poor and you have saved one poor broken hearted girl from despair from madness, belike and now we are not to be selfish we must not hold you back but let you run the race that is set before you and remember your words and your deeds and your dear face and voice to the last hour of our lives and give me the benefit of your prayers little sister do not deny me them your prayers that I may persevere to the end I it is too true Susan in this world there is nothing but meeting and parting it is sad we have need to be stout hearted stouter hearted than you are but it will not always be so a few short years in we who have fought the good fight shall meet to part no more to part no more to part no more as he repeated these words half mechanically Susan could see that he had suddenly become scarce conscious of her presence the light of other days was in his eyes and his lips moved in articulately delicate minded Susan left him and with the aid of the servant brought out the tea things and set the little table on the grass square in her garden where you could see the western sun and then she came for Mr. Eden come sir there is not a breath of wind this evening so the tea things are set in the air and I know you like that the little party sat down in the open air the butter churned by Susan was solidified cream the bread not very white but home made juicy and sweet as milk the tea seemed to diffuse a more flowery fragrance out of doors than it does in and to mix fraternally with the hundred odours of Susan's flowers that now perfume the air and the whole innocent meal unlike course dinner or supper mingled harmoniously with the scene with the balmy air the blue sky and the bright emerald grass sprinkled with gold by the descending sun farmer Merton soon left them and then Susan went in and brought out pen and ink and a large sheet of paper Susan sat apart working with her needle Mr. Eden sketched a sermon and sipped his tea and now and then heard three words to Susan who purred as many in reply and yet over this pleasant scene there hung a gentle sadness felt most by Susan as with head bent down she plied her needle in silence he will not sit in my garden many times more nor write many more notes of sermons under my eye nor preach to us all sermons and then he is going to anasty jail where he won't have his health I'm doubtful and then I'm fearful he won't be comfortable in his house with nobody to take care of him that really cares for him servants soon find out where there is no woman to scold them as should be and he is not the man to take his own part against them and Susan sighed her prospects of her friend and her needle went slower and slower these reflections were interrupted by the servant who announced to visit her Susan laid down her work and went into the parlor and there found Isaac Levy she greeted him with open arms and heightened color and never for a moment suspected that he was come there full of suspicions of her after the first greeting the words of little importance were said on either side Isaac watching to see whether Mr Meadows had succeeded in supplanting George and too cunning to lead the conversation that way himself lay patiently in wait like a sly old fox however he soon found he was playing the politician superfluously for Susan laid bare her whole heart to the simplest capacity waiting for the skillful, subtle almost invisible cross-examination which the descendant of Maimonides was preparing for her she answered all his questions before they were asked it came out that her thought by day and night was George that she had been very dull and very unhappy but I am better now Mr Levy thank God he has been very good to me and a clergyman or an angel in the dress of one I sometimes think he knows all about me and George sir so that makes me feel quite at home with him and I can and now Mr Meadows stops an hour on market days and he is so kind as to tell me all about Australia and you may guess I like to hear about it Mr Levy come and see us some market evening Mr Meadows is capital company to hear him you would think he had passed half his life in Australia were you ever in Australia sir if you please never but I shall shall you sir yes the old Jew is not to die till he has drifted to every part in the globe in my old days I shall go back toward the east and there me thinks I shall lay these wandering bones oh sir inquire after George and show him some kindness and don't see him wronged he is very simple no no no you are too old you must not cross the seas at your age don't think of it stay quiet at home till you leave us for a better world home said the old man sorrowfully I have no home I had a home but the man Meadows has driven me out of it Mr Meadows sir as how he bought the house I live in and next lady day as the woman worshipper calls it he turns me to the door but he won't if you ask him he is a very good natured man you go and ask him to be so good as to let you stay he won't gain say you you take my word Susanna replied Isaac you are good and innocent you cannot fathom the hearts of the wicked this Meadows is a man of Belial I did beseech him I bowed these gray hairs to him to let me stay in the house where I lived so happily with my Leia 20 years where my children were born to me and died for me where my Leia consoled me for their loss a while but took no comfort herself and left me too poor old man and what did he say he refused me with harsh words to make the refusal more bitter he insulted my religion and my much enduring tribe and at the day appointed he turns me at three score years and ten adrift upon the earth dear how hard the world is cried Susan I had a great respect for Mr. Meadows but now if he comes here I know I shall shut the door in his face Isaac reflected this would not have suited a certain subtle eastern plan he had formed no said he that is folly take not another man's quarrel on your shoulders a Jew knows how to revenge himself without your aid so then her inquisitor was satisfied Australia really was the topic that made Meadows welcome he departed revolving oriental vengeance smooth Meadows at his next visit removed the impression excited against him and easily persuaded Susan that Levy was more in the wrong than he in which opinion she stood firm till Levy's next visit at last she gave up all hope of digiticating and determined to end the matter by bringing them together and making them friends and now approached the day of Mr. Eden's departure the last sermon the last quiet tea in the garden on Monday afternoon he was to go to Oxford in the following week to his new sphere of duties which he had selected to the astonishment of some hundred persons who knew him superficially knew him by his face by his pretensions as a scholar a divine and a gentleman of decent and independent means he had not sounded his depths all Sunday Susan sought every opportunity of conversing with him even on indifferent matters she was garnering up his words his very syllables and twenty times in the day he saw her eyes fill with tears apropos of such observations as this we shall have a nice warm afternoon Susan it is to be hoped so sir the blackbirds are giving a chirrup or two all Monday forenoon Susan was very busy there was bread to be baked and butter to be made Mr. Eden must take some of each to Oxford they would keep Grasmere in his mind a day or two longer and besides they were wholesome and he was fond of them then there was his linen to be looked over buttons sewed on for the last time then he must eat a good dinner before he went so then he would want nothing but his tea when he got to Oxford and the bread would be fit to eat by tea time especially a small crusty cake she had made for that purpose so with all this Susan was energetic almost lively and even when it was all done and they were at dinner it seemed to be that he should eat more than usual because he was going on a journey but when all bustle of every kind was over and the actual hour of parting came she suddenly burst out crying before her father and the servant who bade her not take on and instantly burst out crying too from vague sympathy the old farmer ordered the girl out of the room directly and without the least emotion proceeded to make excuses to Mr. Eden for Susan a young maid's eyes soon flow over Mr. Eden interrupted him such tears as these do not scald the heart I feel this separation from my dear kind friend as much as she feels it but I am more than twice her age and have passed through I should feel it bitterly if I thought our friendship and Christian love were to end because our path of duty lies separate but no Susan still look on me as your advisor your elder brother and in some measure your pastor I shall write to you and watch over you though at some distance and not so great a distance I am always well hoarse and I know you will give me a bed at Grassmere once a quarter that we will cried the farmer warmly and proud and happy to see you cross the threshold sir and Mr. Merton, my new house is large I shall be alone in it whenever you and Miss Merton have nothing better to do pray come and visit me I will make you as uncomfortable as you have made me comfortable but as welcome as you have made me welcome we will come sir we will come some one of these days and thank you for the honour so Mr. Eden went from Grassmere village in Grassmere farmhouse but he left neither as he found them 50 years hence an old man and woman or two will speak to their grandchildren of the sower and Susan Merton if she is on earth then of the good physician she may well do so for it was no vulgar service he rendered her no vulgar malady he checked not every good man could have penetrated so quickly a coy woman's grief nor the wound found have soothed her fever and deadened her smart with a hand as firm as gentle as firm some men are human sons they brighten and warm wherever they pass fools count them mad till death wrenches open foolish eyes they are not often called my lord nor sung by poets when they die but the hearts they heal and their own are their rich reward on earth and their place is high in heaven End of Chapter 9 Recording by Gregory Franklin