Part 19 (1/2)

--XIII--

REAL MONEY

The two women pa.s.sed inside the cottage, Mrs. Thornton holding out her hand again to the little lad; while Holmes and his wife followed hesitantly, awed. In the rear, Thornton grasped Madison's arm suddenly.

”I never saw such a beautiful face,” he whispered tensely. ”It's wonderful.”

”Yes,” a.s.sented Madison. ”But everything here seems full of a rare, strange beauty, a hallowed something--it lifts one beyond material things. You _feel_ it--a great, calm solemnity all about you.”

He closed the door softly behind him.

Mrs. Thornton's eyes swept questioningly, anxiously and a little timidly about the plain, simple, quiet room; and then she spoke, her voice unconsciously hushed:

”He--he is not here?”

Helena shook her head, as she led Mrs. Thornton to a chair.

”Not now,” she said in a low voice. ”The strain of this afternoon has left him very weary and very tired--much has gone out of him in response to the faith he felt but could not see.”

”But he knows?” said Mrs. Thornton eagerly, reaching for Helena's hand.

”He knows?”

”Yes,” Helena replied quietly, ”he knows. He always knows.” She nodded gravely to the others. ”Please sit down,” she said.

Madison quietly took the chair nearest the table; Thornton one a little in front of Madison and nearer his wife and Helena, who were close by the big, open fireplace; the two Holmes sat down on the edges of chairs a little behind Madison; while young Holmes knelt, his arms in Mrs.

Thornton's lap, his head turned a little sideways, his chin cupped in one hand, as he stared breathlessly around him.

It was the boy who broke the momentary silence.

”Ain't that other fellow here, neither--the fellow that was worse'n me?”

he whispered.

Helena leaned toward him.

”Yes; he is here,” she answered, smiling sweetly. ”He is with the Patriarch.” She lifted her head to include the others in her words. ”It is very wonderful, his grat.i.tude. He will not leave the Patriarch--he says he will not leave him ever, that all he has to give for the debt he owes is the life that the Patriarch gave back to him, and he will listen to nothing but that he should devote that life to the Patriarch's service.”

”I'd like to, too,” said young Holmes, with a quick flush on his face.

”Can I, miss--can I?”

”Perhaps,” said Helena gently. ”Who knows what there may be that you can do?”

”Dear boy,” said Mrs. Thornton, stroking the lad's head. She looked quickly at Helena. ”We, too, are grateful, more than there are words to tell, and we, too, would like to show our grat.i.tude. We are rich and money--”

”Money!” the word came in shocked, hurt interruption from Helena, as a signal flashed from Madison's eyes. ”The Patriarch does not do these things for money--it would be a bitter grief to him to be misjudged in that way, even in thought. It is the love in his heart for the suffering ones, and his power goes out to all who ask it freely, with no thought of recompense or gain, and his joy and happiness is the joy and happiness of others.”

”And right off the bat too!” said Madison admiringly to himself. ”Now, wouldn't that get you! Say, could you beat it--could you beat it!”

”Oh, I did not mean that,” said Mrs. Thornton almost piteously. ”Please, please do not think so, for I know so well that money in a personal sense could have no place here, that it would indeed be sacrilege. It is in quite another way--Robert, Mr. Madison, you explain what we would like to do.”

It was Madison who explained.