CHAPTER XIX. THE OLD HOME AND THE NEW.
My readers will be ready to believe me when I tell them that after this I often found myself dreaming of the future, and wondering what it had in store for me. I had plenty to do, so that my hands were not idle while my fancy roamed at times unchecked. I did not feel as care-free as I had done; but life possessed a charm which I had never known before. I was no longer a child, and I put away childish things and thoughts. I determined to make the most of the few advantages which our limited circumstances would allow. I worked early and late that I might attend the school. I paid more attention to my appearance than I had been wont to do. My hair, which was heavy and often neglected, received as much care on a week-day as on Sunday. It became darker and more glossy. Walter often complimented me on my improvement; but I am free to say it was not for Walter's sake that I was thus mindful of my looks.
Nor was this all. Whatever I did I strove to do in the best manner. My parents seemed never to weary of commending me. Life was very pleasant to me at that time. We were a little above want, and I sometimes had a few shillings to spend for some article of dress not exactly necessary, but pleasing to a young maid's fancy. My father's feebleness was the only drawback to our enjoyment—and that we had accepted as one of the allotments of Providence.
Alas, this world is a changeful place! One tastes of joy, and then the cup of sorrow is put to his lips. When I was eighteen my father left us for the better world. That he exchanged earthly pain for eternal happiness we never doubted. His dear life, especially in his last years, was a continual demonstration of the power of divine grace. Oh, it is a bonnie thing and a blessed thing, this walking with God! We may well say "the beauty of holiness," for it has a beauty all its own. The world may turn its frown upon the child of God, but he is undaunted; adversity may scatter its hoar-frosts upon him, but he still stands forth in all the freshness of perennial life; sickness may enervate the body, but the spiritual nature grows stronger as it nears the heavenly haven; friends may forsake and foes may hate, but if he is firmly planted in the kingdom of grace he remains unmoved by either. "Nothing can separate us from the love of God." It is this love that strengthens and beautifies the soul which is the real life of the Christian.
Two years passed by and brought no marked changes. At the end of that time the aged James Patterson resigned his ministry. With advancing years his locks have grown whiter, his step slower, and his strength has visibly failed. He has passed the bounds of man's allotted days upon the earth, and now, tenderly cared for by his son Alan, under whose roof he and his wife find a hearty welcome, he calmly awaits the call to come up higher.
When our aged relative and beloved pastor laid aside his robe of office and no longer served in the Lord's house, James Somerville, my own betrothed, was called to fill the vacant place. In my heart there was joy, for I should not now be separated from my mother and the dear friends and scenes of my youth. One month after he was called among us I became his wife; and now for three happy years the visit to Graham Place has never been regretted by the mistress of the manse.