Part 24 (1/2)
”But I would not be one of those, aunt. I would be rich and happy at the same time.”
”If you could, my dear. But wealth brings with it its own troubles; sometimes in the shape of the donor; I trust you would not marry for money?”
”Not for money alone, aunt. But I see no reason why a rich man might not be loved for himself as well as a poor man. It does not follow that because a man is rich he must therefore be selfish or ill-tempered.”
”Certainly not, my dear; but we will not discuss it any longer, at present. You are young, and I wish you to understand yourself thoroughly. Take no rash steps, and remember that wealth is as nothing compared to a true heart, and that this world's best treasures are perishable, while religious faith abides with us through life and death into eternity.”
In the afternoon Mr. Leslie came again to the old stone house, and inquired for Mrs. Sheldon. ”I have come to ask for your horses,” he said, as Aunt Faith entered the parlor; I have secured a large carriage that will take all the family, and now, if you will send Jonas down with the horses, we can hope to have Margaret safely established at Mr. Green's before night.”
”Certainly, Mr. Leslie. Is there nothing more I can do?”
”Not to-day, thank you. I shall go out with them myself.”
”How are the children?”
”Worse, I fear; but I have large faith in country air.”
”I shall be anxious to know how they bear the ride.”
”I will stop on my way home as I must come back with the carriage,”
said the young clergyman as he went away.
”Was not that Mr. Leslie?” asked Hugh, coming in from the dining-room a few moments afterward.
”Yes,” replied Aunt Faith; ”he came to see me on business.”
”Didn't he ask for Sibyl?” said Hugh.
”No,” replied Aunt Faith, with a warning look at her nephew, as Sibyl came in. But Hugh was not to be warned. ”Sibyl,” he said, ”Mr. Leslie has been here and did not ask for you.”
”Is that so very surprising?” said his sister coldly; she had regained all her composure and her face was calm and quiet.
”Of course it is surprising,” said Hugh bluntly. ”He has been in the habit of coming here to see you for months, and, let me tell you, Sibyl, he is one in a thousand; he is a hero, every inch, and I heartily respect and like him.”
”I have said nothing to the contrary, Hugh.”
”Don't be a hypocrite, Sibyl,” said Hugh with brotherly frankness. ”I am not good at splitting hairs, but there is no more comparison between Mr. Leslie and Graham Marr, than there is between an eagle and a sickly chicken.”
”I have never thought of comparing them, Hugh. I do not like comparisons, and yours is entirely unjust. But even supposing it was correct, _I_ have no taste for standing on a mountain-peak, in the icy air of unknown heights, and gazing at the sun all day as an eagle does,” said Sibyl, as she crossed the hall into the parlor. In a few moments the Spring-Song sounded forth from the piano, and under cover of the music, Hugh said to Aunt Faith, ”There is nothing wrong between them I hope?”
”There is nothing between them either right or wrong,” replied Aunt Faith with a sigh. ”Sibyl is not suited to Mr. Leslie.”
”Then it is her fault,” said Hugh warmly. ”There is no doubt in my mind that John Leslie is deeply interested in her, and I should be proud and glad to have him for a brother. He is the truest, most honest man I know.”
”That is because he is such a sincere, earnest Christian.”
”I know it, aunt. He works hard, and he thoroughly believes in his work. He really thinks there is nothing in the city so vitally important as that little chapel, and those workmen.”
”He is right, Hugh. To _him_ there should be nothing so important as their welfare.”