"There is a desire that fulfils itself by its own energy, but this desire is born of unfailing Hope, and of that unfaltering Faith that can move mountains. Have you got it, Jane?"
"I am so weak, Doctor John. Pray for me."
"Pray for yourself. Why should any one pray for you? Pray for yourself, though it be only to say, with the old Acadians, 'Hold Thou my hands!' When you were a baby, and were fretful and restless, then your mother held your hands. That steadied you. You were not used to the whirling earth, or you had that sense of falling into the void all babies have, and you trembled and cried out in your fear, and then your mother instinctively held your little hands in hers, and you felt their clasp strong as the everlasting hills, and went peacefully to sleep. Go to God in the same way, Jane; you are only a little babe in His sight; a little babe crying in the vast void and darkness, and trying to catch hold of something to which you may cling. Say to the Father of your spirit, 'Hold my hands!'"
And she rose and kissed him for his sweet counsel, and that night, and many a night afterwards, she fell asleep whispering, "Hold Thou my hands."
CHAPTER XIII
CHANGES AT DE WICK
"Friendship, of itself a holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity."
"A form of senseless clay—the leavings of a soul."
When Matilda received Anthony Lynn's letter, she was immediately certain that the old man's conscience troubled him in the presence of death, and that he wished to return de Wick to its rightful owners. Sir Thomas and Lady Jevery were of the same opinion. "He can leave the estate to you, Matilda," said Sir Thomas; "you have never been 'out' for either Stuart, and the Commonwealth takes no action on private opinions, only on overt acts. Stephen is barred, but Lynn can leave de Wick to you, and having neither kith nor kin, I think he ought to do so. He owes everything to your father's help and favour."
This idea took entire possession of Matilda; she thought it a duty to her family to answer the request of Anthony Lynn favourably. It had been a surprise to her, and there were more surprises to follow it. As soon as Lady Jevery and her niece arrived at the gates of de Wick, they were confronted with a remarkable change in the appearance of the place. The great iron gates had been painted and rehung; the stone griffins that ornamented the posts had felt the stone-cutter's chisel in all their parts, and been restored to their proper shape and position. The wide walks were free of weeds, freshly graveled and raked, and the grass of the chase was in perfect order. There were plenty of deer, also, though Matilda knew well all the deer had disappeared long before her father's death.
As they came close to the house, they saw the flower garden aglow with spring flowers and in such fine order as would have satisfied even Sir Thomas Jevery. Anthony Lynn stood at the door to meet them. He looked ill and frail, but hardly like death, and when he witnessed the delight of the ladies at the changes made in de Wick, his face grew almost young in its pleasure. Every room in the house was a fresh surprise; for though all that was venerable through age of family association, and all that was valuable and beautiful had been preserved, yet so much of modern splendour and worth had been mingled with the old that the rooms were apparently newly furnished. Magnificent draperies of velvet, chairs covered with Spanish leather stamped in gold, carpets of richest quality, pictures by rare masters, Venetian mirrors and glassware, all that a luxurious and lavish taste could imagine and desire, were gathered with fitting and generous profusion in the ancient rooms of de Wick. Anthony Lynn accompanied the ladies through the house, finding a fresh and continual joy in their exclamations of delight; and Matilda, filled with astonishment at the exquisite daintiness of the suite called the "Lady Matilda's Rooms," said enthusiastically,