her to mingle. She was a very handsome girl, lively and agreeable in conversation, and had excited unusual attention for one so young."
"How soon did she become reconciled to death? She seems now to look forward to it, as the consummation of her hopes and joys."
"Not for many months; but she will give you an account of the change in her feelings. I hope you will soon see her again; she has not long to stay with us."
As we passed the house on our return, we noticed Mrs. Leighton at the door watching for us. Frank, thinking she wished to call him, sprang from the carriage. But she only put into his hand a little bouquet, saying in a suppressed voice, "Caroline," at the same time waving her hand that it was intended for me. I was very much affected at the simple gift, and sent my thanks to the sweet girl. There was exquisite taste in the selection—a moss rose bud—a white rose half blown, with dark green myrtle leaves,—and a sprig of mignonette.
"It must have been hard for her," I said, "to give up this beautiful earth, she is so fond of flowers and everything tasteful."
"Ah! but she gains heaven," was Frank's reply. This suggested to me the following lines from a favorite poet, which I repeated to my husband.
"Once when I look'd along the laughing earth,
Up the blue heavens, and through the middle air,
Joyfully ringing with the sky-lark's song,
I wept, and thought how sad for one so young,
To bid farewell to so much happiness.
But Christ doth call me from this lower world;
Delightful though it be."
We next stopped at a house of moderate size, in which the Doctor told me, four families found their home. Having tied the horse by the little gate, we entered a room on the right, where a poor man lay on a bench, or, as I afterwards saw, a long chest, upon which some quilts had been spread to make it soft. The chest was pushed to the corner of the room, so that, with pillows behind him, the invalid could sit almost upright.
Watching by his side was a very pretty woman, who, from her dialect, I perceived was Welsh. Near her was a small boy of about three years of age, sitting on a low cricket; while in a shed, opening directly out of the room, there stood a young girl of eleven, washing.
After putting two chairs near her husband, Mrs. Lewis resumed her seat and her sewing, as it was only by her industry, the family were supported.
Frank inquired particularly about the symptoms of his patient, and prescribed for his relief. He then said, "I have brought my wife, as I promised to introduce her to you." Here Mr. Lewis put out his emaciated hand, and expressed pleasure at seeing me. Frank continued, "Mrs. Lenox will come and read to you, if you wish, while your wife is busy."
The sick man regarded me with a look of gratitude, while his wife replied, "I am sure t'would be a great comfort to us both, to hear a bit of the Word. My man," she continued, "is not able to read; it makes his eyes ache badly. I have so little time, I can only repeat a verse now and then, to give us something to think of."
The Doctor asked Mr. Lewis if he had enjoyed more peace of mind since his last visit.
"Sometimes," he replied in a whisper, "I can feel willing to trust myself in the hands of God; but again all is dark, and I can't come nigh to him. He appears a great way off, and I seem to be praying into the air." As he closed, his breast heaved a deep sigh.
I became so much interested in him; and he so exactly described my own feelings, at times, that I forgot any one else was present, and said, "Oh, sir! I have often felt so; and the only way I can do, is to keep praying, until God reveals himself to me. He does hear, and he will answer if we keep asking, and if he sees we are in earnest."
I stopped suddenly, in great embarrassment, when Frank immediately added, "This is the case with most Christians. Sometimes while we are yet speaking God hears, and grants an answer of peace. Again he delays, to try our faith and patience."
"But the prayers of the wicked are an abomination," said Mr. Lewis feebly. "I can't feel sure that he has accepted me."
"Has his promise ever failed?" inquired the Doctor. "He says, 'call upon me and I will answer; knock and it shall be opened.'"
The poor man put his hand to his breast, as if in great pain. Frank feared lest we were prolonging the interview beyond his strength, and rose to leave.
"Surely you won't go without praying for me," said Mr. Lewis.
"If you feel able to attend, I will do so with pleasure," replied the Doctor. I was very much affected to see the sick man rise feebly, and kneel during prayer. He wept much, and when we arose he was so exhausted by his emotion, the Doctor and his wife were obliged to raise him to his feet. But when he had taken some drink, he became more composed, and said, "Thank you." "Come soon," he said to me, with a smile.
Mrs. Lewis followed us to the door, where Frank put into her hand a bank bill; and in addition, requested her to send to our house in the morning for some chicken broth of which he wished her husband to partake freely. Her eyes filled with tears, and she could only look her thanks.
It was now becoming late, and we returned home. I cannot help thinking how much good a pious physician has it in his power to do. He gains the affections of his patients; and they will listen to religious conversation which they would not hear from a stranger. Frank cares for their souls as well as their bodies, especially as the one commonly affects the other.
CHAPTER V.
"Wretch that I am, what hopes for me remain,
Who cannot cease to love, yet love in vain?" Cowper.
Sabbath morning, June 14th.
Dear Mother,—I must write you a few lines to tell you how happy I am. Yesterday, you remember, I was to decide whether I would conduct the family devotions when Frank is absent. My mind was so much occupied during the afternoon, I hardly thought of it; but in the evening, I retired to my closet, determined to ask for strength from one who is ever ready to help the weak in the performance of duty.
When I arose from my knees, my fear was all dispelled. It appeared almost like a privilege to do what I had so much dreaded. While I was yet speaking, God answered.
This morning, when I was dressing my little daughter, an employment in which I delight, Frank came in and inquired, "Have you thought upon the subject I proposed yesterday?"
"Yes," was my reply.
"And what have you decided?"
"I will, at least, attempt the duty." My hand trembled so much, I could scarcely button Pauline's dress; but I think he did not notice it, for he walked quickly out of the room. I was taking her to Ann for her breakfast, when he returned, and with such evident marks of strong feeling on his countenance, I looked at him anxiously.
He took my hand, and pressed it to his lips, saying, "Will you soon return to your boudoir?" I rang for Ann, and then followed
