"All our joy is touched with pain;
So that earth's bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain."
He owned that the trials that Rachel had apparently to meet, if Gwen had reported their correctly, might not be very good for her bodily health, but they were the means of strengthening her soul, of helping her to grow in grace, evidence of which was not wanting. That after all it was worth enduring hardness, if it resulted in becoming a better soldier of the Lord Jesus Christ. He ended his letter by expressing the wish that his little friend Gwen knew what it was to take up her cross and to follow Christ.
But the Bishop did not put the thought of Rachel and her husband away from him. He determined to run over to Trowsby before long to see if Gwen's report had the element of truth in it.
The first few months after the baby's birth had been supremely happy for Rachel. Little Pat had supplied all that she had been conscious of lacking in her life. Notwithstanding the fact of their increasing poverty, she was able to fight successfully the anxiety which would have depressed her in earlier days. She was so engrossed with the thought of her child that other cares were put into the background. That the balance at the bank grew steadily less she knew; but it was no use allowing this fact to weigh down her spirits, and when she now and then had to face it, a glance at the lovely little flushed face lying on the pillow in the cradle, filled her heart with such rapture that anxiety fled, leaving her with a smile of happiness on her face.
She was astonished that even his baby son had not the power of engrossing his father's attention for more than a minute. He would take a look at the child, lay his finger on his cheek, and smiling at the little laugh that issued from his lips would turn away and run up to his study. Even the baby fingers had no power to keep him! How he could resist them Rachel could not imagine. "It is perfectly shameful the little notice you take of your son," she said one day laughingly. "It's a happy thing that he has a mother to look after him, poor little man."
"I thought mothers always looked after them in the crying stage," he answered. "Just wait and see how I shall fulfil my duties when he is older."
"I doubt it. Did you see the account of the baby sea lion that was born in the Zoo the other day? The mother undertook its education, teaching it to swim. The father avoided all responsibility. There are hosts of fathers like that."
"Wait and see," answered Luke. And then the door bell was rung sharply and Rachel little thought that a new chapter in her life's story was about to begin.
Luke had come in late after a heavy day's work in the parish, and the conversation just related had taken place at the supper table. He, rose to open the front door, and Rachel stood listening to a man's voice that she did not recognize. What she heard made her run into the hall and clasp her hands round her husband's arm, as if to shield him from the blow she knew the news would be to him.
"When did it happen?" he was asking in a quiet tone of voice. His very quietness made Rachel aware of what he was feeling. Under any strain he was unnaturally still.