Part 3 (1/2)
”What was all that you said about your father's being a banker and a rich man? Are you asleep already, Jem?”
Jem had been very near it.
”Who? Papa? Oh! yes, he might have been; but you see he chose 'the better part.' I sometimes wonder whether he's ever sorry.”
”Jem,” said David, ”it's not right--to speak in that way, I mean. And as for papa's being sorry--not to-night, at any rate,” added David, with a sound that was like a sob in his voice.
”And why not to-night? Ah! I understand. It was through him that old Tim got the victory;” and both the boys were surprised to see him suddenly sit up in bed in the dark; and after a long silence he repeated, as if to himself, ”I should think not to-night, indeed!” and then he lay down again.
”Papa has never been sorry--never for a single moment,” said David. ”He has helped a great many besides old Tim to win the victory. And besides, I dare say, he has had as much real enjoyment in his life as if he had been a rich man like your father. He is not sorry, at any rate, nor mamma.”
”Oh! that is all very well to say,” interposed Jem; ”I dare say he is not sorry that he is a minister, but I say it is a shame that ministers should always be poor men--as they always are!”
”Oh! well. People can't have everything,” said David.
”You've got to be very contented, all at once,” said Jem, laughing.
”You have said as much about it as ever I have, and more, too. Don't you remember when the Hunters went away to M--, to school, and you and Violet couldn't go? You wanted to go, didn't you?”
”Nonsense, Jem. I never thought of such a thing seriously. Why, it would have taken more than the whole of papa's salary to send us both!”
”But that is just what I said. Why should not papa be able to send you, as well as Ned Hunter's father to send him?”
”It comes to the same thing,” said David, loftily. ”I know more Latin and Greek, too, than Ned Hunter, though he has been at M--; and as for Violet--people can't have everything.”
”And you have grown humble as well as contented, it seems,” said Jem; ”just as if you didn't care! You'll care when mamma has to send Debby away, and keep Violet at home from school, because she can't get papa a new great coat, and pay Debby's wages, too. You may say what you like, but I wish I were rich; and I mean to be, one of these days.”
”But it is all nonsense about Debby, Jem. However, mamma would not wish us to discuss it now, and we had better go to sleep.”
But, though there was nothing more said, none of them went to sleep very soon, and they all had a great many serious thoughts as they lay in silence in the dark. The brothers had often had serious thoughts before; but to Francis they came almost for the first time--or rather, for the first time he found it difficult to put them away. He had been brought up very differently from David and Jem. He was the son of a rich man, and the claims of business had left their father little time to devote to the instruction of his children. The claims of society had left as little to his mother--she was dead now--and, except at church on Sundays, he had rarely heard a word to remind him that there was anything in the world of more importance than the getting of wealth and the pursuit of pleasure, till he came to visit the Inglises.
He had been ill before that, and threatened with serious trouble in his eyes, and the doctor had said that he must have change of air, and that he must not be allowed to look at a book for a long time. Mr Inglis had been at his father's house about that time, and had asked him to let the boy go home with him, to make the acquaintance of his young people, and he had been very glad to let him go. Mr Inglis was not Frank's uncle, though he called him so; he was only his father's cousin, and there had never been any intimacy between the families, so Francis had been a stranger to them all before he came to Gourlay. But he soon made friends with them all. The simple, natural way of life in the minister's house suited him well, and his visit had been lengthened out to four months, instead of four weeks, as was at first intended; and now, as he lay thinking, he was saying to himself that he was very sorry to go.
This last night he seemed to see more clearly than ever he had seen before what made the difference between their manner of life here in his uncle's house, and the life they lived at home. It was a difference altogether in favour of their life here, though here they were poor, and at home they were rich. The difference went deeper than outward circ.u.mstances, and must reach beyond them--beyond all the chances and changes time might bring.
And then he thought about all his aunt had said about ”the good fight”
and ”the whole armour,” the great Leader, and the sure victory at last.
But strangely enough, and foolishly enough it seemed to him, his very last thought was about Debby's going away; and before he had satisfactorily computed the number of weeks' wages it would take to make the sum which would probably be enough to purchase an overcoat, he fell asleep, and carried on the computation in his dreams.
The next morning was not a very pleasant one to travel in. It was cloudy and cold, and the ground was covered with snow. Mr Inglis had intended to take Frank on the first stage of his journey--that was to the railway station in D--, a town eleven miles away. But, as Jem had foretold, the weariness which he had scarcely felt when he first came home, was all the worse now because of that, and he had taken cold besides; so David and Jem were to take his place in conveying their cousin on the journey.
The good-byes were all said, and the boys set off. They did not mind the cold, or the snow, or the threatening rain, but were well pleased with the prospect of a few more hours together. The roads were bad, and their progress was slow; but that mattered little, as they had the day before them, and plenty to say to one another to pa.s.s the time. They discussed trees and fruits, and things in general, after the fas.h.i.+on of boys, and then the last stories of hunters and trappers they had read; and in some way which it would not be easy to trace, they came round to Hobab and the battles he might have fought, and then to ”the whole armour” and the warfare in which it was intended to aid them who wore it.
”I wish I understood it all better,” said Frank. ”I suppose the Bible means something when it speaks about the warfare, and the armour, and all that; but then one would not think so, just to see the way people live, and good people too.”
”One can't tell by just seeing the outside of people's lives,” said David.
”The outside of people's lives!” repeated Frank. ”Why, what else can we see?”
”I mean you are thinking of something quite different from mamma's idea of battles, and warfare, and all that. She was not speaking about anything that all the world, or people generally, would admire, or even see.”
”But you spoke of your father, David, and I can understand how he in a certain way may be said to be fighting the battles of the Lord. He preaches against sin, and bad people oppose him, and he stands up for his Master; and when he does good to people, wins them over to G.o.d's side, he may be said to make a conquest--to gain a victory, as he did when he rescued poor Tim. I can understand why he should be called a soldier, and how his way of doing things may be called fighting; and that may be the way with ministers generally, I suppose; but as for other people, they ought to be the same, as the Bible says so; but I don't see that they are, for all that. Do you, Jem?”