“Then prove it by believing me loyal.”
“I do believe it but you would not understand were I to tell you what is on my heart.”
“I would try to.”
“Let us suppose a case, a man whose environment and heredity—on one side at any rate—are morally debilitating. Alas! He knows the seamy side of life, has drunk to the full the cup of pleasure and found dregs at the bottom. Yet he does not realize the depths of degradation into which he has fallen, is simply doing as others before him have done and are still doing. Circumstances place him amid totally different surroundings. He is an honored member of a Christian household, a household where naught but good abides. One among them is a woman, such a one as he never believed lived outside of dreams and that man loves her. Yes, that’s it, loves her! At last he has found what his hungry heart craves. He forgets the past—God knows he prayed to do so—and lives only in the present with its promises, playing with temptation. And, Granny, that woman is your granddaughter, Celeste.”
An inaudible sob escaped him as he caught for breath. Granny turned and looked at him, but felt her tongue arrested.
Poor Granny, she to whom weakness was sin, who, by thought, word or act had never been known to show the slightest mercy toward a transgressor of this unwritten moral law! A clock somewhere in the house struck two, “that magic hour when all time seems to stand still.” The lamp burned low, flickered and went out. From the deep bed of coals on the hearth, a spark would now and then flash forth filling the room with shadows. There were these two souls, one, a weary pilgrim whose struggles with this world were almost ended and ready to attest, “I have lived, seen God’s hand through a lifetime, and all was for the best”; the other a man, a misguided human being brought face to face with himself. Once again was the “veil of the temple rent” and in the Holy of Holies these two made sacrifice each for himself.
Morning found Granny no better, too weak to rise and she tried in vain to eat her dainty breakfast. Each effort left her exhausted, and almost discouraged. Eletheer had to be content with seeing her take a few swallows of coffee.
Doctor Brinton, who had been summoned early, looked grave but could only economize the forces of nature and wait.
Stimulants were flatly refused by the old lady. Pleadings availed nothing. Deception was impossible and she gradually became weaker and weaker until at last, with mental faculties clear, her earthly lamp went out.
Those who have known the influence for good in a household of a grandmother like this one will understand how deserted the house seemed. Religious bigot she may have been, yet she was an honest one and her example of earnestness of purpose, strict integrity and staunch friendship may well be emulated. She had tried to do as she wished to be done by, died as she had lived—an example of the faith she professed.