Part 21 (1/2)
”Does it seem so to you, dear? You have no other sister; but so many love you--and--you have our Lord and Saviour, whom you love, and whom you seek to serve; and you will not forget me. I shall be something in your life always, and to your children; and, dear, we will not speak any more--I am very tired.”
Fidelia rose without a word. She made her sister lie down, and brought her water to drink, and bathed her face; and then Mrs Stone's step was heard on the stairs, and Eunice said--
”Go away for a little while. Go out for a walk through the woods, and think it all over, and ask our Father to give you a little glimpse of all the blessing He intends to give you through your sorrow. My darling, I have gone through the suffering. Yes, I know that parting is not so hard for the one who goes. But it is all as good and right as G.o.d can make it for His children, and you will see it so in a little while.”
”Oh, Eunice, I am not good! You do not know--”
”But He knows, dear. Tell it all to Him, who loves you even better than I love you.”
There was no time for more, and Fidelia went out at one door as Mrs Stone came in at the other. She was bewildered and helpless for the moment. Her first impulse was to throw herself on the bed in an utter abandonment of sorrow, and, alas! of rebellion, under the hand that touched her. But Eunice had said--”Go out into the woods,” and she must go. So she rose and bathed her face, and, wrapping herself in her shawl, went out through the garden to the fields, and then to the woods, walking rapidly.
It was not grief alone which worried her. She was amazed and rebellious, and sought to see nothing beyond the desolation of being left without her sister. She was very selfish in the first shock of surprise and pain, and it was an hour of bitterness that she pa.s.sed beneath the cedars by the brook; and, alas for her! she took both pain and bitterness home with her again.
Remembering her own time of trouble, Eunice had patience with her, knowing that light and help would come. She waited long, but she waited patiently, and help came at last.
”Fidelia,” said Mrs Stone, one night soon after this, ”are you thinking of going to conference meeting to-night?”
”No; I can't say I am. Mr Runkin is not at home.”
”Unless he came this morning, which is not likely. But there'll be somebody there to lead the meeting, I expect.”
”Deacon Ainsworth, I guess,” said Fidelia, with a shrug. ”I don't feel as if it would pay to go to hear him.”
”No, I don't suppose it would pay to go to hear him, if that were all you went for, or to hear anybody else. But don't you know that to 'two or three gathered together' in His name the promise is given?”
”There will be two or three and more there, without me; and I shouldn't help much, Aunt Ruby.”
”But you might be helped if the Lord Himself were there. I'd guess you'd better go. If you go, you'd better take down this book to the doctor. He left it here by mistake, I expect, since it is in a strange tongue. I presume he thinks he lost it out of his chaise, and he'll be glad to get it again. If you do go, Jabez'll be along at the right time to come home with you.” All this Mrs Stone said, seeing, but not seeming to sea, the cloud that lay darkly on Fidelia's face.
One thought which had a little hope in it had come to Fidelia that day under the cedars--”Dr Everett will know. I will ask Dr Everett.” But she had never done so; and Mrs Stone's insistence about the meeting and the doctor's book gave the needed impulse; and she said she would go.
She was a little late; but so were Dr Everett and his daughters, who were just coming out of their own gate when she came in sight.
”It won't be the deacon, at any rate,” thought Fidelia.
They waited for her, and she gave the book. It was as Mrs Stone had said--the doctor had thought the book lost, and was glad to see it again.
”Thank you, Miss Faithful. You generally do bring pleasant things and thoughts when you come. And how is Miss Eunice?” But, seeing her face, he did not wait for the answer. ”Of course she is well, or you would not be here;” and they moved down the street together.
Afterwards, when Mrs Stone asked Fidelia if they had a good meeting, she said--”Oh, yes, I guess so! Dr Everett took the lead.” But that was all she could tell. She did not even remember the hymns that were sung, because she did not sing them. When she left the schoolroom her heart was beating so heavily, that she had to wait till they reached the house before she found voice to say--
”Are you busy, Dr Everett? I should like to speak to you before I go home.”
Dr Everett opened the door of his office, and she went in there. He lighted a lamp, and sat down opposite to her.
”Well, dear, what have you to say to me?”
”You know--Eunice--”
There is no need to go over it all again. What could the doctor say that Eunice had not said before? That they should be glad and thankful that no time of terrible suffering lay before her--that years of happy life might remain to her, though she could never be strong. That was his brother's opinion, decidedly. And then he added a few words of sympathy and encouragement.