“I would rather see him lying under the direfullest contagion. I would rather that he was stricken by the Lord’s own hand, than that it should be said of Halbert Melville that he flinched in the least degree from the work which the Lord has laid upon him,” returned Mary, proudly elevating her matronly form to its full height, with a dignity that gladdened Christian’s heart.
“Yet that man in London will be well spoken of,” said Mary Hamilton, “and our Halbert unknown. No matter: the time will come when Halbert will be acknowledged openly; and now, Christian, I feel assured and pleased that Charles went out with Halbert.”
“And you may, when they went on such an errand,” said Christian; “but”—and she continued briskly, as if to dispel the little gloom which had fallen upon them, and resuming the conversation, which had been broken off on the departure of the gentlemen—“but Robert writes me, that he is very comfortably settled, and likes his new residence well.”
“I am sorry,” said Mrs. Melville, after a pause, during which her agitation had gradually subsided, “I am sorry that I saw so little of Robert. He and I are almost strangers to each other.”
“Not strangers, Mary, while so nearly connected,” said Christian, kindly. “Moreover, Robert gives me several very intelligible hints about a young lady in your uncle’s family to whom you introduced him.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Melville, “no doubt he means my cousin Helen. Oh, I am very glad of that. Your brothers are too good, Christian, to be thrown away on cold-hearted, calculating people, who only look at money and money’s worth——” and as the words fell from her lips, she stopped and blushed, and hesitated, for Mrs. James flashed upon her mind, and the comparison seemed invidious.
“You are quite right, Mary,” said the other Mary, smiling; “and if Robert be as fortunate as Halbert has been, we shall be a happy family indeed.”
Did Christian’s brow grow dark with selfish sorrow, as she listened to these mutual congratulations? Nay, that had been a strange mood of Christian’s mind in which self was uppermost, or indeed near the surface at all; and her whole soul rejoiced within her in sympathetic gladness. Nor, though they were happy in the full realisation of their early expectations, did she hold herself less blessed; for Christian bore about with her, in her heart of hearts, the holy memory of the dead, and in her hours of stillest solitude felt not herself alone. An angel voice breathed about her in whispering tenderness when she turned over the hallowed leaves of yon old Bible; and when the glorious light of sunset fell on her treasured picture, it seemed, in her glistening eyes, to light it up with smiles and gladness; and the time is gliding on gently and silently, day upon day falling like leaves in autumn, till the gates of yon far celestial city, gleaming through the mists of imperfect mortal vision, shall open to her humble footsteps, and the beloved of old welcome her to that everlasting reunion; and therefore can Christian rejoice, as well on her own account, as in ready sympathy with the joyful spirits round about her.
But the present evening wore gradually away, and the children became heavy, weary, and sleepy, and the youngest of all fairly fell asleep; and Mrs. Melville looked at her watch anxiously, and Mary said she could not wait for Charles, but must go home; but here again Christian interposed. The little Melvilles and Hamiltons had slept under the same roof before now, and being too far gone in weariness to have joined in their domestic worship, even had the elders been ready to engage in it, were taken off by twos and threes indiscriminately to their respective chambers; and the three sisters are left alone once more, maintaining, by fits and starts, a conversation that showed how their thoughts wandered; and, in this dreary interval of waiting for the home-coming of Halbert and Charles, listening to the doleful dropping of the slow rain without, until the long-continued suspense became intolerably painful. At length footsteps paused at the door; there was a knock, and some one entered, and each drew a long breath as if suddenly relieved, though Mrs. Melville started again, and became deadly pale, when Charles Hamilton entered the room alone. He seemed much agitated and distressed.
“Where is Halbert?” Mrs. Melville exclaimed; and her cry was echoed by the others at the fireside. “Has anything happened to Halbert?”