‘John,’ said Arthur, coming nearer to him, and speaking low, ‘she and her boy are more perfect creatures than you can guess, without knowing the worst of me. You warned me that I must make her happy, and you saw how it was the first year. It has been worse since that. I have neglected them, let them deny themselves, ruined them, been positively harsh to that angel of a boy; and how they could love me, and be patient with me throughout, is what I cannot understand, though—though I can feel it.’
‘Truly,’ thought John, as Arthur hastily quitted him, ashamed of his emotion, ‘if Violet be my scholar, she has far surpassed her teacher! Strange that so much should have arisen apparently from my attempt to help and cheer the poor dispirited girl, in that one visit to Ventnor, which I deemed so rash a venture of my own comfort—useless, self-indulgent wretch that I was. She has done the very deeds that I had neglected. My brother and sister, even my mother and Helen’s brother, all have come under her power of firm meekness—all, with one voice, are ready to “rise up and call her blessed!” Nay, are not these what Helen would have most wished to effect, and is it not her memorials that have been the instruments of infusing that spirit into Violet? These are among the works that follow her, or, as they sung this evening—
“For seeds are sown of glorious light,
A future harvest for the just,
And gladness for the heart that’s right
To recompense its pious trust.”’
And in gladness did he stand before the house that had been destined as the scene of his married life, and look forth on the churchyard where Helen slept. He was no longer solitary, since he had begun to bear the burdens of others; for no sooner did he begin to work, than he felt that he worked with her.
CHAPTER 18
That we, whose work commenced in tears,
May see our labours thrive,
Till finished with success, to make
Our drooping hearts revive.
Though he despond that sows his grain,
Yet, doubtless, he shall come
To bind his full-ear’d sheaves, and bring
The joyful harvest home.
—Psalm 126. New Version
Business cares soon began. Arthur consented to allow his brother to lay his embarrassments before his father. ‘Do as you please,’ he said; ‘but make him understand that I am not asking him to help me out of the scrape. He does all he can for me, and cannot afford more; or, if he could, Theodora ought to be thought of first. All I wish is, that something should be secured to Violet and the children, and that, if I don’t get clear in my lifetime, these debts may not be left for Johnnie.
‘That you may rely on,’ said John. ‘I wish I could help you; but there were many things at Barbuda that seemed so like fancies of my own, that I could not ask my father to pay for them, and I have not much at my disposal just now.’
‘It is a good one to hear you apologizing to me!’ said Arthur, laughing, but rather sadly, as John carried off the ominous pocket-book to the study, hoping to effect great things for his brother; and, as the best introduction, he began by producing the letter written at Christmas. Lord Martindale was touched by the commencement, but was presently lost in surprise on discovering Percy’s advance.