“I hope and trust that an earnest, hard-working man may be put in his place,” said Arthur.
“God grant it!” was the vicar’s response.
“And old Tychicus Bolder, the teetotaller,” inquired young Madden after a pause; “does he still declaim as fiercely as ever against the evils of Wildwaste?”
“The rod of affliction has been heavy on poor Bolder. He suffered so greatly from rheumatism last winter that it was feared that he might altogether lose the use of his limbs; but he has rallied wonderfully during the last few days, and he expressed a hope, when I last saw him, that he would be able to get to church again in the summer.”
“He seemed to me,” observed Lina Madden, “one of the most proud, uncharitable, and self-righteous men that I ever had met with; but I suppose that we shall see him much changed.”
“He is much changed indeed,” replied Mr. Eardley; “for to poor Bolder suffering has not been sent in vain. He used to look around him for subjects of censure, now he has learned to look within; and what he did before to be honoured of men, he does now for the sake of his God. Human nature regards sickness and pain as enemies; but it is through such enemies that a message of love and mercy has come to Bolder.”
“And little Lottie Stone, my first acquaintance in Wildwaste, how fares she?” asked Arthur Madden. “Methinks I see her now, in my mind’s eye, the gipsy-like child, with her earnest black eyes, wrapped up in the old scarlet cloak, and—why, surely, there is Lottie herself!” he exclaimed, and calling to the coachman to stop, Arthur Madden, as we have already seen, greeted the young Stones with pleasure, which was more than reciprocated by them.
With the young hope is buoyant, and the sense of happiness keen. The sight of her benefactor living, convalescent, looking bright and kind as ever, seemed to Lottie’s warm young heart an earnest that, like her late anxiety upon his account, all her other troubles would soon pass away. Her mother would come back—her father would live to be a blessing and comfort in his home—her own character would be fully cleared—Miss Gritton and her dear pastor would smile upon her again—and Heaven would guard her sweet lady from taking the infection of the fever. Mr. Eardley looked on that beaming young face, and his reflection was much the same as that of Isa had been, “There is no sense of guilt weighing on the conscience of that child; truth and innocence are written upon every feature.”
“If you, too, are going to the lecture, Lottie, we’ll spare you the long walk,” said the smiling Lina.
“Yes; up with you, Lottie, beside the coachman,” cried Arthur. “Steady will follow; I’ll be bound he’ll be in time. I never knew him late at my class; he was one on whom I could always depend.”