Part 2 (1/2)
Sister Agatha sat at one of the windows; and with her, his chair drawn back into the shadow, out of the bright afternoon suns.h.i.+ne, sat Brother Jonathan Fricke, talking in his calmest and most deliberate manner, ”It seems to me, dear Sister, that the healthy give you more anxiety than the sick.”
”Because they are the more difficult to help than others; and although your visit is princ.i.p.ally to the sick, I should like to have your advice regarding the case of one in my charge, and whose father was your dearest friend.”
”You are anxious about Carmen's worldly-mindedness; but ought you not to be indulgent, dear Sister, and remember that the child's early a.s.sociations are still holding sway in her heart, and make great excuse for her? Brother Mauer, you remember, went away from the mission to his plantation, where, although he did not sever himself from our communion, there was not much to remind him of his religious obligations. His last wife, a hot-blooded Creole, could not be considered much help as regards keeping the faith. She loved best to swing herself into the saddle and gallop away over the plains. She would sing her glowing Spanish songs to the accompaniment of the mandolin; or else she would dance like a fairy, her foot scarce seeming to touch the floor as she floated along, to the sound of the tambourine played by her old negro duenna. She was too beautiful for him to restrain, in dancing, riding, or anything. Too beautiful!” he repeated, becoming more and more enthusiastic. ”I have seen her often, when summoned to the plantation on professional duty as a physician; and there was little Carmen, always with her mother, and following her in everything. She learned to dance and sing in true Spanish style, and she seemed to feel all the beauty and fascination of it.”
Suddenly he paused, as if becoming conscious of his unwonted animation under the wondering gaze of Sister Agatha's grave eyes. Heaving a deep sigh, he had again recourse to his old trick of brus.h.i.+ng an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve, and then continued in the orthodox, placid manner:
”It was a fearful sin for a member of our faith to fall into, and Brother Mauer should have resisted the temptation. I spoke to him frequently about it, but he had lost all power of self-control. He was too much absorbed in love for his wife, and therefore it was a mercy to his soul and Carmen's that this Spanish girl died, and the child was placed here, under our discipline, where she may yet be won over to a spiritual life,” he concluded, and cast a humble, sanctimonious look on Sister Agatha.
”Where were you when her mother died?” asked the Sister. ”Were you with her?”
”No; she has been dead about ten years, and I left Jamaica some time before that, as my health could not stand the climate. I went from there to the northern part of the United States. From Bethlehem, where I remained several years, I went back to the old place, and when I got there Carmen was a wee little maiden, and I was told that Brother Mauer had left Jamaica for the East Indies.”
”Well, surely the Lord called him to be His instrument,” interrupted Sister Agatha. ”It was wonderful how he was seized with such an irrepressible desire to be a missionary. And as far as we can know, he has worked without flagging for the faith. All news from him has ceased for some time now; and is it not strange that he has never made any application for money? He took only a very small sum with him when he went on his mission, and the large sum which the sale of his lands in Jamaica brought is still in a bank in this country.”
”Has he, then, left nothing for Carmen?”
”We receive a certain interest from the money, for her support and education,” replied Agatha, ”but it is, comparatively speaking, very little. The money must have acc.u.mulated to an immense sum by this time. If her father is dead, Carmen must be a very wealthy heiress--another temptation for her, poor child! It is strange we hear nothing from Brother Mauer. I feel sure he must be dead--died while working for his Lord!”
As she spoke, Jonathan's eyes flashed, and he suddenly lifted his head; but remembering where he was, he immediately resumed his usual pious bearing, and, when Agatha ceased speaking, said, with something like a sigh:
”He was my friend!”
A pause ensued, during which he seemed lost in reflection.
”It does seem as if we have lost him,” he continued, ”and Carmen must be an orphan. Poor child! Bear so much the more leniently with her, dear Sister; and if from time to time you observe signs of her early training, and that her impulses carry her sometimes beyond what is quite becoming, remember she will find in me a guide who is ever ready to lead her in the right way.”
”Truly, you are still the same faithful friend to her father, for you have so much consideration for his child,” said Agatha, deeply affected. ”But believe me, dear Brother, I also love the girl with my whole heart, and am the more anxious for that reason, lest her natural inclinations may lead her into error. But to whom shall I direct her for guidance, if not to the dear Lord Himself?”
”Surely, my Sister, you say well; and therefore it would be better for her to have a helpmate ever at her side, who would remind her of her holy calling,” returned Jonathan, earnestly. ”Next week she will be eighteen years of age, and will then be numbered among the marriageable sisters. It would certainly be the best thing for her to have a husband; therefore seek one for her, Sister Agatha; and if you and the a.s.sembly of elders can find no one better, then will I, for the sake of her welfare, give up the freedom of my single life and take her to myself, to be to her a faithful protector and husband, for the glory of G.o.d.”
While speaking, he had risen nervously from his seat, and leaning one arm on the back of the chair, uttered the last words hastily, as if impelled thereto by a sudden overwhelming emotion. His eyes were fixed on the floor, only once in a while looking furtively up, as if to watch the effect of his words. But the Sister's open countenance showed only a joyful surprise.
”You would really sacrifice yourself for Sister Carmen's benefit?” she cried. ”How can I do otherwise than approve, dear Brother? You, the pious, wise, experienced physician, full of love and kind forbearance towards her, and knowing so well, all the while, what is for her good!
Where in all the wide world could she ever find a better counsellor and guide?”
”Nay, say not so, Sister Agatha,” he interrupted reprovingly. ”No sinful creature deserves such praise; least of all I. None of us are more than humble instruments for good, and have no merit at all of ourselves.”
”Yet, my dear Brother, we cannot but recognize the good in others,”
replied she in a gentle tone. ”And I say no more than the truth. If every one as worthy as you had only a portion of your modesty! The sick long for you and praise you as their benefactor; the well welcome you everywhere as a friend and adviser. Let me thank you for offering yourself to Carmen, for you have done so with true kindness and love.
After the feast this evening, I will communicate your proposal to the elders; and if they consent to it, then, afterwards, I will speak to Carmen on the subject. I have notified her to come to me, without reference to this matter, as I want to make some inquiries about her behavior this morning. But now it is the hour for evening prayer.”
She arose, and extended her hand to Jonathan, who returned its hearty pressure. Never had his manner been more humble than it now was as he left the room. But when the door was closed behind him, he stood quite still for a moment, and the disagreeable expression of his mouth was greatly enhanced by the smile of triumph which lit up his countenance.
”Ah!” he exclaimed under his breath, ”beauty and wealth; they will indeed compensate for the past.”
CHAPTER IV.