Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha

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СКАЧАТЬ a plate was silently substituted for the cup and she fed him like a child.

      Poor fellow! it would be long before he could feed himself again.

      Mildred set down the plate and stole quickly from the house. Her long pent up emotion must find vent.

      She went weeping home, her heart breaking with pity for the man she could not love, could not have married for the wealth of the world. Oh, why did he love her so?

      She had read it in his eyes;—that she was more to him than all the world beside, and that he knew his was a hopeless passion.

      She was glad to see that the sun was setting; because she knew from the lateness of the hour that tea must be over at home, and the little ones in bed; for she dreaded their questionings and curious looks, and loathed the thought of food.

      Her mother, that best earthly friend, who always understood her as by intuition, met her at the door and clasped her in a tender, loving embrace; and on that dear bosom the whole sad story was sobbed out.

      "Poor, poor fellow! my heart aches for him," Mrs. Keith said, mingling her tears with Mildred's. "And, my dear child I am very glad you had the courage and firmness to give him the help you did. I pity him, too, for his unfortunate attachment, at the same time that I, of course, could never, never be willing to see it returned.

      "But your courage surprises me, I doubt if I should be capable of the like myself," she added, smiling through her tears.

      "I know you would, mother dear," returned the girl, gazing with loving admiration into her mother's eyes; "for you are far braver and firmer than I. I should not have expected to be able to do it myself, but we never know what we can do till we are tried.

      "I am sure our Father helped me in answer to prayer, and according to his gracious promise, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be,'" she added in subdued, tremulous tones.

      "I do not doubt it," said Mrs. Keith; "for 'our sufficiency is of God.'"

      Throughout the whole town great sympathy was felt for the wounded young man. People showed it in various ways; by inquiries made of the doctor or at the door, by calling in for a little friendly chat and sending delicacies to tempt his appetite; which for a time failed under the pressure of pain, enforced idleness (a great change for one who had been all his life a hard worker) and depression of spirits; for there were seasons when he was well-nigh overwhelmed at the thought of his maimed and helpless condition.

      Mrs. Keith went frequently to see and comfort him and his distressed mother, and was more successful in so doing than almost any one else; except Mildred, who occasionally accompanied her.

      They carried to Gotobed food for the mind as well as the body; books which they read to him; as he could not hold them himself, and the other members of the family had little time or ability to entertain him in that way.

      Also they said many a kind, encouraging word concerning the possibilities of future usefulness yet remaining to him.

      "I shall never be good for nothing no more," he sighed, mournfully, one day, looking down at his maimed arm and wounded hand; "can never swing my hammer, or shoe a horse again. I'll have to be a helpless burden on other folks, 'stead o' takin' care o' father and mother when they git old, as I used to think I should."

      "I don't know that, Gotobed," Mrs. Keith answered cheerily; "I think God has given you a good mind, and that you will gradually learn to do a great deal with that left hand; write, hold a book and turn the leaves, and so be able to educate yourself for usefulness in some new line; perhaps do more for your parents and friends than you ever could have done with your hammer."

      A light broke over his face at her words, "Oh!" he said drawing a long breath, "if I thought that I could bear it."

      "I think you are bearing it bravely," she said.

      "I'm tryin' my best," he sighed, "but the Lord only knows how hard it is; 'specially when folks comes and tells you it's a judgment sent onto you for your sins."

      "And who dares to tell you that?" she cried, flushing with indignation, "who could be so heartlessly cruel?"

      "Well, Damaris was in t'other day. She means well enough, I guess;—she fetched something she'd cooked up for me—but she don't seem to understand a feller critter's feelin's. She give me a long lecture; said I'd been dreadful proud o' my strength and what a neat job I could make o' shoein' a horse and the like, and so that the Lord took away my hand to punish me and fetch me down. Do you think 'twas that way, Mis' Keith? I was thinkin' 'twas my own carelessness and not to be blamed on Him at all."

      "It strikes me that you are very nearly right there," she replied, half smiling at the earnest simplicity with which he spoke. "He is very merciful and gracious, full of tender pity and compassion for the creatures He has made; especially those who are peculiarly His own because they have accepted of the salvation offered through Christ Jesus; yet He does not always see fit to save them from the consequences, as regards this life, of their own follies and sins."

      "Carelessness is a sin," he said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't use to think so, but it's plain enough to me now. And do you think, Mis' Keith, He feels kind o' sorry for me even though 'twas my own fault?"

      "I am sure of it; and that He will give you strength to bear your trouble if you will ask Him; to bear it bravely and not let it spoil your life by robbing you of cheerfulness and hope, and the usefulness you may attain to by a determined, manly struggle with your difficulties.

      "There is a pleasure in overcoming difficulties," she added with a bright, winning smile, that was like a ray of sunlight to his saddened heart, "a pleasure that the slothful know nothing of."

      "I'll try it!" he said with determination. "God helping me, I will. Bless you, Mis' Keith, fur them words. I'll not forget 'em."

      Chapter Twenty-Third.

       Table of Contents

      "The sad vicissitudes of things."

       —Sterne.

      "My poor, dear friend, would that I could comfort you!" Mrs. Keith said in tones of deep heartfelt sympathy, folding her arms about Mrs. Chetwood and weeping with her; "but only Jesus can do that in such sorrow as yours."

      "And He does, else I should die; for oh my arms are so empty, my heart and home so desolate!" sobbed the bereaved mother.

      "I know it, I know it by sad experience; for I too, have wept over the grave of a darling little one."

      "You?" Mrs. Chetwood said with a look of surprise; "you have so many."

      "Yes; but then I had not all I have now. Eva was between Rupert and Zillah and would be thirteen now. She was five when God took her to himself."

      "Ah, you do know how to feel for me!"

      "Yes; and let me tell you how I was comforted. I fear I was not quite submissive at first; but a dear old mother in Israel, who had several times passed through the same deep waters, came to me and said 'My dear, the Lord gave you quite a little flock and when He comes and asks you to return him one, and you know He will keep it so safely in his kind arms and on his tender bosom, will you refuse? can you not spare Him СКАЧАТЬ