Was I right?

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

I did not see Evelyn again till I went upstairs to her room for luncheon. She was lying quietly on the sofa where I had left her, but she called me to her side and whispered:

"Oh, May, I am so happy now. Sin is still in me, but no longer on me, for I have laid it on Jesus."

I need hardly say how very thankful I felt to God for answering my prayer. It seemed almost too good to be true. A blessing that we have been waiting for, anxiously longing and waiting for, is always of double value when it comes.

From that day I began, as it were, a new life in Alliston Hall. Before this, Evelyn used to dislike and avoid any approach to what she considered "religious talk;" but now her great delight was to read a chapter with me in the Bible, and to ask me questions about anything which she did not quite understand.

I shall never forget that summer; it was a very peaceful and a very happy one. I had every reason to believe that Evelyn's heart was indeed changed. Every one noticed the difference in her, and many, who did not understand what is the power of the Holy Spirit in the heart, wondered what was the cause of it.

There was one who rejoiced in this change in Evelyn quite as much as I did, and that one was Miss Irvine. She spent nearly the whole summer at Alliston Hall, and Evelyn, instead of avoiding her company as she had so often done before, delighted to have her with her, that they might talk together about heavenly things.

Day by day Evelyn grew in grace, and seemed more anxious about the welfare of her own soul, and of the souls of those around her. She was much braver than I was, in speaking to others about their eternal welfare. I often felt ashamed of myself when she told me how she had spoken to Clemence, or to one of the other servants; and she did it in such a simple, natural way, that it was always well received, and never gave offence.

But, though Evelyn was growing in grace day by day, she was not growing in bodily strength. Indeed, as the summer went on she seemed to get weaker instead of stronger. The trouble she had had about her cousin Donald had been so sudden and unexpected, that she had not recovered from the effects of it.

Evelyn never, so far as I knew, mentioned her cousin's name in Sir William's presence, and only once did she name him to me, when she asked me if I knew whether anything had been heard of him; but I noticed how anxiously she asked for the newspapers every day, and with what trembling fingers she turned over the pages. There had been an account of the affair in the "Times" the same week that it happened, and Evelyn was continually expecting to find that Mr. Trafford had been apprehended. But there was no further notice of it in the newspapers, and, one day, Sir William told me that his nephew had evidently made his escape to some foreign land, and he did not think that he would ever be heard of again.

As the summer passed away, and the days became shorter and the nights cooler, Evelyn became no stronger; she had a very troublesome cough, which kept her awake at night, and she looked pale and fragile.