David Fleming's Forgiveness

by Margaret M. Robertson

Not so her niece. She had no words with her father with regard to the matter, but she gave her aunt to understand that she considered a mere formal engagement a matter of little consequence where true and loving hearts were concerned. She must not disobey her father, but time would show that he had been mistaken and not she.

“And after all, auntie, a year, or even two, does not make so much difference, and I rather like the idea of spending the winter with Aunt Esther in New York.”

Aunt Martha sighed. She did not like the idea at all. She would miss her darling, and she had no great confidence in her Aunt Esther, and she dreaded some of the influences to which the child must be exposed, for she was little more than a child, Aunt Martha acknowledged, a wise and good child indeed, but one never could know what might come in the course of two years to change her views of life. And altogether, the dear old lady was not so hopeful as she felt she ought to be, knowing as she so well did, that our days and our ways are all ordered by a higher wisdom than our own.

Miss Essie was not downhearted; on the contrary, her sweetness and resignation in the presence of her aunt’s sorrow and anxiety were beautiful to see. She acknowledged with a readiness that pleased her father greatly, that he was quite right in thinking her too young and inexperienced to take the decision of so serious a matter into her own hands; and when she added that the years which might be supposed to bring wisdom as well as experience would find her unchanged as to the purpose of her life, he only smiled and nodded his head a good many times, and let it pass.

Mr Maxwell may be said to have been resigned and hopeful also. Indeed he had not expected to take the young lady to Gershom for a good while to come. He acknowledged that Mr Langden’s view of the case was just and reasonable, and looking at it from a Gershom point of view, he acknowledged to himself, though he did not think it necessary to say anything of it to any one else, that a few more years and a wider experience would be of advantage to a minister’s wife in relation to even the comparatively primitive community where his lot was cast. So he went away cheerfully enough, content to wait.

It must be confessed that Miss Martha was the greatest sufferer of the three at this time. She too was obliged to allow that her niece was very young, and she did not doubt that the years would add to her many gifts and graces. Nor did she doubt her constancy, or she believed she did not, but she knew that a change had come to the means and circumstances of her brother of late. He had always been a prosperous man in a safe and quiet way, but of late he had become a rich man, and though no decided change had as yet been made in the manner of life of his family, she knew by various signs and tokens that Miss Essie at least was to have the benefit of those advantages which wealth can give. And though she told herself that she did not doubt that she would be brought safely through the temptations to which wealth might expose her, she sometimes thought of her picture with a troubled heart.

A short absence was just what Mr Maxwell had needed to prove to himself how content he was to look upon Gershom as his home, and upon his church and congregation and upon the people of the place generally, as his friends. His visit had been so arranged as to include the New England Thanksgiving Day, which falls in the end of November, and the winter, which set in early this year, was beginning when he returned. Winter is the time of leisure in Canada among farmers, and in country places generally, for the long winter evenings give opportunity for doing many things never undertaken at other seasons. So Gershom folks were busy with special arrangements of one sort and another for pleasure and profit, and Mr Maxwell made himself busy with the rest. Winter was the time for special courses of lectures and sermons, for social gatherings among the people of the congregation, and for a good deal more of regular pastoral visiting than was ever undertaken by him at other seasons, and it was with satisfaction, even with thankfulness, that he found himself looking forward without dread to his work.

A quiet and busy winter lay before him. Of course there must be the usual anxieties and vexations, he thought; and he also thought that he would have the kindly counsel and sympathy of Miss Elizabeth. But after his first visit to the squire’s house a difference made itself apparent in their intercourse. It was not that Miss Holt was less friendly or less ready with counsel or encouragement when it was needed. But there was something wanting, and what this might be he set himself to consider on that night after his walk in the snowy fields.

He did not discover it, but he discovered something else which startled him—something which could neither be helped nor hindered—something which could only be borne silently and patiently. Through time and a loyal devotion to the work which his Master had given him to do, the pain should wear away.

In one of the long letters which Mr Maxwell received about this time from Miss Langden, there came, to his surprise and momentary discomfiture, a little note to Miss Holt. He knew that Miss Essie was very fond of writing little notes to her friends and also to the friends of her friends, and when he came to think about it, the only wonder was that she had not written to Miss Holt before.