Part 13 (1/2)

he continued, as they plead to stay and see him waken. As he went out he said: ”A happy New Year, my children; you have much to thank G.o.d for to-day.”

O didn't they thank Him! Their hearts were so full of joy and thankfulness that it was a long time before they could forget everything and sleep. It was noon when they awoke, and yet Miss Smithers had not called them. Stealing to the door they looked in; they wanted just one look at Guy, to be sure it was true and not all a dream, and then they went down stairs.

Martha, little woman that she was, was overjoyed at seeing them and knowing Mr. Guy would soon be well.

”You did not get your Christmas present, dear child,” said Ruth; ”whenever brother Guy wakens you may go up for it; it is in the top drawer of my bureau wrapped up in white paper.”

”Miss Agnes gave me two white ap.r.o.ns, all scolloped round,” said Martha, with a beaming face.

”You have been a good girl, Martha, we could not have done without you,”

continued Ruth. ”When Mr. Guy is better, we will tell him you helped to make him well.”

”Mother said I should be as good as I could, and if you wanted any more help, she would stay all the time, because Miss Agnes was so kind to father,” replied the child.

Miss Smithers appeared looking very tired, but cheerful. ”Now girls you may go up, he is awake and wants you. But there must not be many words.”

Ruth took two steps at once in her haste to get up, but she was so out of breath, she had to recover before going in the room, so that both entered together. Guy was awake and knew them; they could scarcely realize it. They kissed him; then each held a thin hand and told him not to speak. When he grew stronger they should have a good, long talk. He smiled faintly and then fell asleep again.

They would have gone away now, but he held their hands in a tight clasp, and so they sat for hours, until he awoke--tired and cramped, yet afraid to move. That night Miss Smithers insisted upon sitting up, and they went to bed in their own room, but not until they had had a long talk.

”This night, two years ago, Agnes, do you remember?” asked Ruth, drawing her chair over to the fire. ”You recollect I went to the theatre, and you refused. If Guy had died, I know I should have lost my reason. If it had only been that once, but although I suffered agony then, you know how often I have gone with him since. This came to me all the time of his sickness: 'You mislead your brother, if he is lost you are to blame;' and O, Agnes, you don't know what I suffered! But I promised G.o.d if he would only spare Guy, I would lead a new life and never enter such places again. I see my mistake now, we can never 'do evil that good may follow.'”

”And I have been thinking, Ruth, that I have been at fault, in not making direct appeals to Guy, about his soul. I thought it was better to _live_ right, so that he might see there was power in religion; but I find that one thing cannot take the place of another. There must be _talking_ and _living_, both. And I think we had better talk more about ourselves before Guy; we have shut him out too much from these things, while in everything else we have thought of him.”

”If he would only become a Christian, Agnes, how happy we should be. I should not have a single care then.”

”He will, Ruth, I feel it; he will be given in answer to prayer and holy living. But we must live so near to G.o.d, that we can _claim_ this at His hands.”

Guy grew stronger. ”Who could help it with such care?” he asked. Agnes, who was compelled to go to school now, very often found herself in the midst of a recitation wondering what she could take home, or what she could make for him, when she went home. Ruth gave herself up completely to him. Feeling that as she had hindered, so now she must be a great help to him in every way. She copied and read for him, and would not have hesitated to undertake a case in court, so that it was of benefit to Guy.

Sometimes as she sat with him, the doctor's and druggist's bills came up before her, and almost made her heart stand still, for during all his sickness she had not been earning anything, and they were depending upon Agnes's salary for everything until she could begin to teach again.

She almost despaired of ever being free from anxiety, but looking at Guy her doubts left her. G.o.d had spared him to them, and she would trust Him to help them out of their troubles.

Little Philip came every day, now that Guy was able to sit up, and by his odd speeches and persistent attempts at making a picture of Mr. Guy, proved a constant source of amus.e.m.e.nt, so that Guy looked for him daily, after breakfast.

Ruth several times attempted a conversation with her brother about the things on her mind, but had always failed in the attempt. It came however in this way. She was sewing, and Guy had been reading. Laying down the book and watching his sister for a few minutes, he said: ”I have been thinking, Ruth, if all young men had such good sisters as I, how few would go far astray.”

”O, Guy,” she said, her eyes filling with tears, ”I have been anything but a good sister. I thought of it day and night, when you were ill, and it nearly drove me mad.”

”What do you mean, Ruth, I don't understand you. What had you to blame yourself for?”

”The great thing, my neglect of duty. I did not hold religion up in its true light. I lowered the standard, and you did not give it proper respect. I wronged you, Guy, and I wronged G.o.d and my own soul. I meant to tell you all this, but something kept me back. My inconsistent life came up before me, and I thought I would wait until you had seen a change in me.”

”I see it _now_,” he replied; ”One can see changes more readily in you, than in Agnes.”

”Because there is nothing to change in her. Guy, I would give all the world if I had it, to be the trusting Christian our Agnes is. If you had seen her when you were ill, you would have known how wonderful she is.

She thought of everybody and everything, but never once despaired or murmured. I think the Lord spared you because of her.”