Part 4 (1/2)
”She is still her father's girl,” said my brother, with a fond look.
”She and Carrie, whom you never saw, make a blessed home for me. Where is your sister, daughter?”
”She is at the great music-hall. She has a very rich voice that she is cultivating,” Alma said, turning to me. ”We were going to find our aunt when she returned,” she added.
”True, true,” said my brother; ”but come.”
Then they showed me the lovely home, perfect and charming in every detail. When we came out upon a side veranda, I saw we were so near an adjoining house that we could easily step from one veranda to the other.
”There!” said my brother, lightly lifting me over the intervening s.p.a.ce. ”There is some one here you will wish to see.” Before I could question him, he led me through the columned doorway, saying, ”People in heaven are never 'not at home' to their friends.”
The house we entered was almost identical in construction and finish with that of my brother Nell, and, as we entered, three persons came eagerly forward to greet me.
”Dear Aunt Gray!” I cried. ”My dear Mary--my dear Martin! What a joy to meet you again!”
”And here,” said my aunt reverently.
”Yes, here,” I answered in like tone.
It was my father's sister, always a favorite aunt, with her son and his wife. How we did talk and cling to one another, and ask and answer questions!
”Pallas is also here, and Will, but they have gone with Carrie to the music hall,” said Martin.
”Martin, can you sing here?” I asked. He always was trying to sing on earth, but could not master a tune.
”A little,” he answered, with his old genial laugh and shrug; ”we can do almost anything here that we really try to do.”
”You should hear him now, cousin, when he tries to sing,” said his wife, with a little touch of pride in her voice. ”You would not know it was Martin. But is it not nice to have Dr. Nell so near us? We are almost one household, you see. All felt that we must be together.”
”It is indeed,” I answered, ”although you no longer need him in his professional capacity.”
”No, thanks to the Father; but we need him quite as much in many other ways.”
”I rather think I am the one to be grateful,” said my brother. ”But, sister, I promised Frank that you should go to your own room awhile; he thought it wise that you should be alone for a time. Shall we go now?”
”I am ready,” I answered, ”though these delightful reunions leave no desire for rest.”
”How blessed,” said my aunt, ”that there is no limit here to our mutual enjoyment! We have nothing to dread, nothing to fear. We know at parting that we shall meet again. We shall often see each other, my child.”
Then my brother went with me to my own home, and, with a loving embrace, left me at the door of my room.
Once within, I lay down upon my couch to think over the events of this wonderful day; but, looking upward at the divine face above me, I forgot all else, and, Christ's peace enfolding me like a mantle, I became ”as one whom his mother comforteth.” While I lay in this blissful rest, my brother Frank returned, and, without rousing me, bore me in his strong arms again to earth. I did not know, when he left us in our home, upon what mission he was going, though my father knew it was to return to my dear husband and accompany him upon his sad journey to his dead wife; to comfort and sustain and strengthen him in those first lonely hours of sorrow. They deemed it best, for wise reasons, that I should wait awhile before returning, and taste the blessedness of the new life, thus gaining strength for the trial before me.
CHAPTER V.
Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?--Heb. 1: 14.
How oft do they their silver bowers leave, To come to succor us that succor want!
How oft do they with golden pinions cleave The flitting skyes, like flying pursuivant, Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant!