X.
A Happy Home.
Nancy did come perfectly sober, and Ned Franks kept his engagement made for him by his wife. Not a word was uttered which even the irritable Mrs. Sands, conscious of her own evil habit, could possibly twist into a reproach. On the contrary, Persis took care to thank her guest for her kindness in sending what had been valuable medicine to Baynes, and let her know how the poor sinking sufferer had seemed to revive under its effect.
Everything was done by the Frankses to make the evening pass pleasantly to their guest. Their parlor with its jars of fresh flowers, the snow-white cloth spread on the table covered with the pretty tea-service, which had been a wedding-gift to Persis, tempting bread and butter and the home-made cake for which the school-master's wife was famous,—all formed a picture of neatness and comfort. Mrs. Sands could not help contrasting Franks's cottage with her own. How different the home where holiness and love went hand in hand, from the untidy, comfortless dwelling of the drunkard!
Ned made himself exceedingly amusing; he told some of his very best stories, and Nancy, under the genial influence of pleasant society, brought out some of her own, which she related with a good deal of spirit. Persis was surprised to find that her guest could be really agreeable, and Franks, for the first time, was able to guess what could possibly have made poor John Sands take a fancy to Nancy. There was nothing to ruffle Mrs. Sands's temper, much to amuse and please her, and the buoyant cheerfulness of the one-armed sailor was infectious to every one near him.
So passed the evening till a quarter before nine, when Persis glanced at her husband. It was the time when they always had prayer and Bible-reading together.
"Mrs. Sands," said the sailor, "I don't think you'll mind our going on in our own old way; we have a little reading and prayer at this hour, and perhaps you'll like to join us."
The clerk's wife expressed no objection, though Persis fancied that her face clouded over a little. "He'll be reading at me, or praying at me," was the unspoken thought of the conscious guest.
But Nancy Sands was mistaken. The short portion of Scripture, impressively read by Franks, was about the joys of the blessed, the exquisite description of the white-robed ones rejoicing before the throne. And when the Frankses and their guest knelt down to pray, there was nothing in the words of the sailor that might not have been uttered had Nancy Sands been as lowly and pure-hearted and meek a Christian as Persis herself.
The proud sinner felt humbled and subdued. She felt as if she had been nearer to heaven on that evening than she had ever been before in her life, and yet that there was some terrible, impassable barrier shutting her out from closer approach.