Part 23 (1/2)

Mildred had a genius for everything relating to domestic life, and an almost unbounded belief in good home influences. Although she rarely talked religion directly to the people whom she was trying to benefit--she was much too diffident and self-depreciative for this--her regular attendance at some place of wors.h.i.+p on the Sabbath and her course toward poor Mrs. Bute and her daughter had given the impression that she was a very religious girl, and that her motives were Christian in character. People's instincts are quick in discerning the hidden springs of action; and her influence was all the more effective because she gave them the fruits of faith rather than stems of exhortation or which they were required to develop fruit of their own. Much good fruit was eventually produced, but more through her example, her spring-like influence, than from any formal instruction.

CHAPTER XXI

”HE'S A MAN”

Mrs. Wheaton, although she had the good taste to ask few questions, was much puzzled over the Jocelyns. Mr. Jocelyn's state of health seemed to her very peculiar, and her shrewd, unprejudiced mind was approaching Roger's conclusion, that he was a little ”off.” With an insight common to sound, thrifty people, she saw that the outlook for this family was dubious. She believed that the father would become less and less of a reliance, that Mrs. Jocelyn was too delicate to cope with a lower and grimmer phase of poverty, which she feared they could not escape. When alone she often shook her head in foreboding over Belle's brilliant black eyes, being aware from long experience among the poor how dangerous are such attractions, especially when possessed by an impulsive and unbalanced child. She even sighed more deeply and often over Mildred, for she knew well that more truly than any of the house-plants in the window the young girl who cared for them was an exotic that might fade and die in the changed and unfavorable conditions of her present and prospective life. The little children, too, were losing the brown and ruddy hues they had acquired on the Atwood farm, and very naturally chafed over their many and unwonted restrictions.

Nor did the city missionary whom she had called in to attend Mrs.

Bute's funeral illumine the Jocelyn problem for the good woman.

He was an excellent man, but lamentably deficient in tact, being p.r.o.ne to exhort on the subject of religion in season, and especially out of season, and in much the same way on all occasions. Since the funeral he had called two or three times, and had mildly and rather vaguely harangued Mrs. Jocelyn and Mildred. Instead of echoing his pious plat.i.tudes with murmurs of a.s.sent and approval, they had been very polite, and also very reticent and distant; and Mr. Woolling--that was his name--had said in confidence to Mrs.

Wheaton that ”they might be good people, but he fearing they were not yet altogether 'in the light.' They seemed a little cold toward the good cause, and were not inclined to talk freely of their spiritual experiences and relations. Probably it was because they were not altogether orthodox in their views.”

It would seem that this worthy person had taken literally the promise of his Master, ”I will make you fishers of men.” for he was quite content to be a fisher. Let us hope that occasionally, as by a miracle, his lenient Master enabled him to catch some well-disposed sinner; but as a rule his mannerism, his set phrases, his utter lack of magnetism and appreciation of the various shades of character with which he was dealing, repelled even those who respected his motive and mission. Sensitive, sad-hearted women like Mrs. Jocelyn and Mildred could no more open their hearts to him than to a benevolent and impersonal board of trustees sitting around a green baize table. That detestable cla.s.s, however, who thrive on opening their hearts and dilating on their spiritual experiences, could talk to him, as he would say, in a ”most edifying and G.o.dly manner,”

and through him, in consequence, reap all the pecuniary advantages within his power to bestow.

It is not the blatant and plausible poor who suffer, but those who hide their poverty and will starve rather than trade on their faith; and too often Christian and charitable organizations prove they are not the ”children of this world” by employing agents so lacking in fitness for the work that a commercial firm, following a like policy, would soon compa.s.s its own failure. The Church deserves slight progress if it fails to send its best and most gifted men and women among the poor and vicious. Mr. Woolling was a sincere well-meaning man, but he no more knew how to catch men with a Christ-like magnetism and guile than how to render one of Beethoven's symphonies; and he was so const.i.tuted that he could never learn.

It was an open question whether he did not do more harm than good; and those who employed him might and ought to have known the fact.

Fortunately for the Jocelyns, there were other workers in that part of the vineyard, and Mrs. Wheaton had said to herself more than once, ”Ven my young lady comes 'ome she'll git 'old of these 'ere people and make things better for 'em.” One day, about the middle of September, there was a light knock at the door of the large living-room that had been made so inviting. Mildred opened it and admitted a young woman, who appeared not very much older than herself, and who she saw at a glance was of her own cla.s.s in respect to refinement and cultivation. Although entire strangers, the eyes of the two girls met in woman's intuitive recognition.

”This is Miss Jocelyn, I think,” said the visitor in an accent that to the poor girl sounded like her native tongue, so long unheard.

”You are correct,” replied Mildred, with exploring eyes and a quiet and distant manner. ”Will you please be seated,” she added after a moment, as the young lady evidently wished to enter.

It was in the afternoon, and the room had its usual pretty order at that hour. Fred and Minnie were seated by Mrs. Jocelyn, who was giving them their daily lesson from an ill.u.s.trated primer; and they, with their mother, turned questioning eyes on the unexpected guest, who won their good-will almost instantly by a suns.h.i.+ny smile. Then turning to Mildred she began, with a quiet, well-bred ease which made her visit seem perfectly natural, ”We are now strangers, but I trust we shall not remain such very long. Indeed, I am already sure that you can help me very much.” (This asking help instead of offering it was certainly adroit policy.) ”I am a Christian worker in this district. My name is Alice Wetheridge. I am well acquainted with Mrs. Wheaton, and the little she has told me about you has made me wish to know you well; and I trust you will meet me with the spirit in which I come--that of honest friendliness and respect. I shall be just as frank with you as you wish, and I know you have just as much right to your feelings and views as I have to mine. It is our plan of work to co-work cordially, asking each one to choose her own place and kind of effort. I have been around among some of my families in this house, and, if you will permit me to say it, I have seen your influence, and I think it is most Christian and womanly. You can scarcely blame me, then, if I hope to find in you a congenial fellow-worker.”

These remarks contained no hint of poverty or inferiority, and might have been made to Mildred in her old home. The sweet, low voice in which they were spoken was soothing and winning, while her visitor's gaze was direct and sincere. Mildred smiled with a little answering friendliness as she said, ”Please do not expect much from me. I fear I shall disappoint you.”

”I shall not expect anything more than your own feelings prompt and your own conscience can warrant. I and some friends have cla.s.ses at a mission chapel not far from here, and all I ask at first is that you and Mrs. Jocelyn attend service at the chapel and see how you like us and how you like our minister.”

”Is--is his name Mr. Woolling?” faltered Mildred.

A slight, evanescent smile flitted across the visitor's face. ”No,”

she said, ”that is not his name. Our minister has just returned from Europe, where he has taken a well-deserved vacation. I, too, have only come in town within the last few days, otherwise I do not think you would have escaped us so long,” she concluded, with a bright smile, but after a moment she added earnestly, ”Please do not think that we shall try to force upon you a.s.sociations that may not be pleasant. We only ask that you come and judge for yourselves.”

”What you ask is certainly reasonable,” said Mildred thoughtfully, and with an inquiring glance at her mother.

”I agree with you, Millie,” her mother added with gentle emphasis, for she had been observing their visitor closely; ”and I think we both appreciate Miss Wetheridge's motive in calling upon us, and can respond in like spirit.”

”I thank you,” was the cordial reply. ”On this card is written my address and where to find our chapel, the hours of service, etc.

Please ask for me next Sabbath afternoon, and I will sit you, so you won't feel strange, you know. After the service is over we will remain a few moments, and I will introduce you to our minister.

As I said at first, if you don't like us or our ways you must not feel in the least trammelled. However that may be, I trust you will let me come and see you sometimes. It was my duty to call upon you because you were in my district; but now it will be a pleasure to which I hope you will let me look forward.”

”You will be welcome,” said Mildred smilingly. ”I can at least promise so much.”

Miss Wetheridge had slipped off her glove while talking, and in parting she gave a warm, friendly palm to those she wished to win.