Thursday, March 23d.
Another beautiful day, and another ride for Pauline. Her father is much encouraged already. She ate with more appetite yesterday than since her sickness. We have elected Joseph assistant physician to the Doctor, and he is to take the patients to ride when that is prescribed.
He said, "I always knew that sometime or other, the right kind of employment would come to me, if I only had patience to wait for it. Now duty and inclination point the same way, my course is clear." Instead of a sign, Joseph is to take Pauline upon the horse, and ride back and forth through the town, when he has no doubt applications will flow in upon him like a flood.
Though this dear cousin is to appearance such a harum-scarum sort of a fellow, yet I feel assured he is not without his serious moments, when he realizes that it is "not all of life to live." How can it be otherwise, educated as he has been. From his birth, daily prayer has been offered in his behalf. I am well convinced, that he often puts on this kind of foolery, as he calls it, for a cover to deeper feelings. I told him to-day that Pauline, (who always frames her own petitions,) had prayed for him, and thanked God for giving her such a nice cousin, and letting her take such beautiful rides. I told him I sometimes heard her whispering to herself when she took a tiny chair her father gave her, "thank you God for my pretty chair."
Joseph looked very serious and said, "I should value her prayers far more than those of many professing Christians I could name. Why, coz," he added after a pause, "I never saw such a little matter of fact thing in my life. If she goes on so, I prophesy people around her will have to walk straight. I thought at first that she was tame; but she has plenty of spirit, only that she keeps it under control. Yes," he added, warming with the subject, "I have seen her eye flash, and her cheeks burn for an instant, and then it would all be over, and she would speak in the gentlest, sweetest voice imaginable. It sounds like Italian music."
Friday, March 24th.
This morning after prayers, cousin came to the nursery door and knocked. I was hearing Pauline repeat her letters, after which I often tell her a Bible story. He sat down quietly until I had finished. "Cousin Cora," said he, "I don't believe I shall ever be good; I've tried, and tried, since I have been here; I resolve every night I will be better, but I go on just the same."
I confess that for a moment, I did not know what reply to make. Pauline had not left my side; she opened wide her large eyes, and looked first at me and then at her cousin. After a moment, she walked across to the place where he sat and put her hand in his. "Dear cousin, if you pray to God, he will tell you how to be good, and mamma will pray for you."
The tears started to Joseph's eyes, as he kissed the little hand in his, and went quickly out of the room.