"My daughter is not a widow, Doctor," murmured the patient, her cheeks flushing. "You have been such a kind friend, I may confide so much of our story to you. Juliette was married at the early age of fourteen, and her child was born within the year. Geenie was only a few weeks old when his father left home for England, ostensibly to obtain a situation where he might support his family in the luxuries to which they had been accustomed. We hear from him occasionally, but have never seen him since."
"Unnatural monster!" cried the doctor, indignantly. He thought of his own little girl, and wondered how she would endure such a living trial,—she to whom the loss of a pet dog had been the greatest grief she had known.
It was a minute or two before he could rally sufficiently to remark, "Eugene is better too. I am sorry to say my patient will soon be dismissing me."
"We have so few friends in America, we cannot give up your visits without regret, Doctor. But it is selfish for us to keep you longer than is necessary, when so many need you."
"Is a physician to have no friends, then?" queried the doctor, assuming a gruff voice. "You will find it hard, madam, to get rid of me." Then, with an emphatic shrug of his shoulders, he went away, and drove nearly a mile out of his course, while he was wondering what kind of a man Mr. Cheriton could be who would forsake a wife like Juliette.
In another respect the young mother showed that she had taken God's word as the rule of her life. This was in the management of her child. Formerly, when herself provoked at his rudeness or impatient at his exactions, she had dealt him a sudden blow, which, however, always seemed to rouse his combativeness to such a degree that it required much skill to soothe him. She usually had to buy him off from the exhibition of temper by confectionery or some new toys. Now, feeling her own weakness, she daily sought strength from God. She had noticed, too, how easily Mr. Angus and Marion had made him obey, not by blows or threats, but by a firm and gentle kindness, which won his confidence. It was her aim to imitate this method.
As soon as he was able to sit up, Eugene felt rather than understood that his mother would no longer submit to be struck in the face or called "bad mamma" when his wishes were crossed. She talked to him, explained that he must obey, that Jesus Christ loved good children, and that she would teach him to pray, and ask this best Friend to help him be good.
There is a sacredness in religious teachings which always arrests the attention of a child. No stories are so much delighted in as the stories of Joseph and Samuel and Daniel, and particularly the story of our dear Saviour. Over and over again these stories may be repeated; yet the little one never tires, but will ask new questions concerning the wonderful characters.
Juliette had thus a double incentive to read her Bible. She wished to find in the sacred pages strength for daily duties; and she also read for the instruction of her boy.
Marion came in one day and found Geenie dressed in a wrapper, sitting in his mother's lap. In her hand she held the Good Book, and they were talking eagerly of the story she had read. Marion wrote afterwards, in her letter to Mr. Angus, that she seldom had seen a prettier picture,—the beauty of both so softened by the subjects on which they were talking.