The whole church, indeed, gave itself up to prayer, both private and united; and, as is always the case, there were some remarkable incidents proving that prayers were heard and answers abundant; one man, Benham, declaring that after what he had seen he would never doubt again. “Since that woman is changed,” he added, “I am sure that any one can be. There is an alteration in this place, sure enough.”
“There is,” said Nelson, who was the recipient of Benham’s confidences; “but it is because good people mean it all much more than they used.”
“Yes; and things will never be the same again, for now they know how to look after the boys and girls. And this is the most promising thing of all.”
And indeed it was. The Darentdale Committee of Helpfulness set a very high value on every young person living in the village. If he or she should show vicious tendencies the best and ablest person among them undertook the case. All the ingenuity and watchful love of wise parents were brought to bear, and at present there had been no case that proved invulnerable to these benign powers and influences. It soon became an extraordinary thing to the Darentdale people that there could ever have been a time when a child was of small account in the place. “We shall make men out of these,” was a consideration never overlooked now in regard to the children.
A very merry place was Darentdale during those summer evenings. There were a dozen tennis-courts, and as many cricket-grounds, each presenting a scene of most complete enjoyment. The young ladies played with the poor girls. Mr. Dallington, the clergyman, and the Baptist minister, each superintended some recreations, and all sorts of delightful games were organised, in which lads and girls joined and their teachers assisted. There were botany classes held in the fields and woods; there were the sounds of sweet songs in the meadows, and open-air concerts in the groves; there were gymnastic feats in the orchards, and races in the lanes; but everything was under the supervision of Christian men and women, who guided the conversation, and helped with the jokes, and made it impossible for gambling or bad language to be mixed up with the play, and who believed that in all this they were doing the Lord’s work as certainly as when they were teaching in the Sunday-school.
Margaret Miller and John Dallington were quietly waiting. The look of youthfulness had passed from John’s face and form, but Margaret was as sweet as ever. John shouldered his cross of care manfully, and Margaret daily laid hers down at the feet of Him who is as able to bear our sorrows as our sins; and both helped in the efforts that were being made for the betterment of the people who had been, as they believed, committed to their care.
One thing had greatly delighted Margaret, and it was that her grandfather, as she still called him, had undertaken the care of a dozen of her Young Crusaders. At first, though neither he nor she knew it, there had been a demur among some of the committee.
“This must be kept in the hands of Christians,” one said “and we have no proof that Mr. Harris believes in Christ.”
But another replied, “Let us judge him by the Master’s rule, ‘By their fruits ye shall know them.’ We cannot doubt that He would deal very tolerantly with such a man as Henry Harris if He were here now. No one has ever heard him say a word against Christ in all the years we have known him.”
“And now he never says a word against anybody, he has become wonderfully gentle and good. He will do no harm to the boys.”