It is not to be supposed that the sacrifice cost Arthur no pang. He wanted the holiday as medicine for mind and body. He felt that he had earned it, and he knew that by but small efforts on the part of his father these greater struggles might have been spared, not to himself alone, but to those at home who were less fitted to endure hardship.
There were, however, two things for which Arthur Glyn was always remarkable: first, having made up his mind that a certain course was right, he took it, and at once; secondly, no human being ever heard him regret that he had done so, murmur at the cost to himself, or fret about what was inevitable.
Yet the sacrifice meant much. It was the darling wish of his heart to enter the ministry, and become a labourer in his Master's vineyard as early as possible. These home calls would compel him to use his talents first and foremost as a means of earning money, even bread for those at home.
"Ah, well!" thought he. "My Master has permitted the trouble to come, so it must be for good. There is work round and about the vineyard, if I cannot yet be admitted as a regular labourer. I can fight on my Captain's side, and 'endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ,' before I put on the uniform which is supposed to manifest me as such to the world at large."
Seven years have passed since Arthur Worsley Glyn made the mental resolve above recorded, and it has been bravely kept. He has worked hard and uncomplainingly, has cheered his mother, assisted to complete the education of his sisters, has stood by the death-bed of his father, penitent enough, but, alas! Repentance came too late to make any amends for all the trouble he had brought upon his family.
And, in order that no needless dishonour should be attached to his memory, the son had taken upon himself a weight of debt far exceeding the worst anticipations of those he left behind. Even with the insurance money to assist, Arthur was still heavily burdened. But though he might sometimes almost stagger under his load, he never swerved from the path which he had decided to be his path of duty.
He had been ordained about eighteen months. His beloved mother had been spared to see this, and to know that her girls would now be able to maintain themselves by their own exertions. She had only one anxiety, and whilst she grieved at the thought that Arthur had been obliged to deny himself so much, and for so long a time, she yet pleaded for the completion of the task he had taken upon himself.
"It has been uphill work for you, Arthur," she said. "But you have been the best of sons and brothers, and your life and words were made a blessing to your father in his last days. It seems almost wrong to ask you to persevere until all—"
"Hush, dear mother," said Arthur, tenderly; "do not add a word. I made a promise, and by God's help I will fulfil it. I will work until my father's debts are paid to the last farthing."
"Arthur, in God's Word there is a portrait drawn for us of the mother whose 'children shall rise up and call her blessed.' Surely it is no less joyous a picture when the mother can herself rise up, and say the same of her children. I thank God for His precious gifts in mine. Truly I can say of my son and daughters, they have been to me 'an heritage from the Lord.'"