“It is not so much that he is changed,” said Katie; “it is just the ‘shining more and more unto the perfect day.’ It is that he is becoming more like the ‘little child’ our Lord speaks about, and so more fit for the kingdom of heaven as the time draws nearer. For grandfather is growing an old man now, Davie,” said Katie, not without tears.
“Yes, that’s so. Well, I’ll never grieve him, Katie, you needna fear. There is no hurry, and I am not losing time while Mr Davenport is here. And I don’t despair of being a civil engineer, as good as the best of them yet.”
“Shining more and more unto the perfect day.” Yes, that was so. Mr Fleming was almost as silent in these days as had been his way all his life, but it was a different silence—a silence serene and peaceful, that told better than words could have done, of the joy and confidence with which he was waiting for all that life had to bring him, and for all that lay beyond.
One Sabbath-day in the beginning of the winter, when Mrs Fleming had gathered a little strength after her illness, grandfather and she, with Davie and Katie and their mother, went to the village church and sat down together at the table of our Lord. Jacob Holt was there too, and a good many more who had sympathised with one or the other of them when trouble was between them, and every one who saw the old man’s bowed head, and the childlike look on his face as he sat there among them all, knew that all hard feelings had passed out of his heart forever.
Jacob Holt’s head was bowed also, but his face did not tell of peace as yet. That might come later, but Jacob was now in the midst of his troubles, and was having a hard time. But there was peace between him and Mr Fleming. In former days the old man’s eyes had never lighted on his enemy, either in church or market, as all the world knew. But to-day it was Jacob who tied old Kelso in the shed, Davie not being at hand. He helped Mrs Fleming up the steps too, Cousin Betsey and a good many other people being there to see, and then the two men walked up the church aisle together.
“It was as good to Jacob as Mr Fleming’s name to a note for a thousand dollars,” Mr Green said afterward. And that was quite true. For a thousand dollars, more or less, would have made little difference to him in the present state of affairs, and the open friendliness of the man who had so long shunned and slighted him, was good and pleasant to him to-day.
“And it was done on purpose,” Betsey told her mother afterward, for Mr Fleming was not accustomed to say much to any one by salutation on Sunday, and had passed several of his friends, Betsey herself among the number, without a word or even a nod of recognition. But he seemed glad of the chance to say a word to Jacob before them all.
“And it was a good day for Gershom,” people said. There was no longer any question as to union now in church matters, and in other matters as well. No one had said less about union and brotherly love and a Christian spirit among brethren than Mr Fleming; but his silent influence had always been stronger than most men’s loudly-spoken reasons, either for or against the union so much desired, and now his open adherence to the church in the village did much to decide those who had long hung back, and it was acknowledged to be a good day by them all.