The loss of his oldest and best-beloved child; the bad location of his farm; and the new and more correct views he had received on the subject of Western life, completely opened the eyes of Parker to the folly he had committed.
"If I could make any thing like a fair sale of my farm, I think I would let it go, and return to the East," he said to his wife, after they had all recovered from the worst effect of the fevers from which they had been suffering.
"If you could do as well at the East, Benjamin, I think we would all be happier there," Rachel replied, in her usual quiet way. Her husband did not notice that the tears sprang instantly to her eyes, nor did he know with what a quick throb her heart answered to his words.
A short time after this, Parker was fortunate enough to meet with a purchaser for his land, who was willing to take it with all its improvements at government price. With seven hundred dollars, the remnant of his property, after an absence of eight months, Parker returned to the East a wiser man, and his wife a more thoughtful, pensive, absent-minded woman. The loss of little Rachel was a sad thing for her. She could not get over it. It would have been some comfort to her if they could have brought back the child's remains, and buried them where her mother had slept for years, and where the body of her father had been so recently laid; but to leave her alone in the wild region where they had buried her, was something of which she could not think without a pang.
On the small sum of money which he had brought back from his western adventure, Parker recommenced his old business in the very town where he lived, and in the store that he occupied at the time of his marriage. As his means were more contracted, he could not do as good a business as the one he had been so foolish as to give up several years before, and he soon fell into his old habit of complaining and perhaps now with more cause. To such complaints his meek-tempered wife would reply in some words of encouragement and comfort, as—
"You do the best you can, and that is as much as can be expected of any one. You plant and sow—the Lord must send the rain and the sunshine."
Back in the old place and among her loving sisters, the heart of Mrs. Parker felt once more the warm sunshine upon it—the gentle dews and the refreshing rain. But a year or two only elapsed before her husband determined to seek some better fortune in another place. Without a complaining word his wife went with him, but her cheek grew paler and thinner afterward, her step slower and her voice even to the ear of her husband sadder. But he was too much absorbed in his efforts to get along in the world to be able to see clearly the true condition of his wife, or, if he at all understood it, to be aware of the cause.
Their new location proved to be an unhealthy one, and the loss of another child drove them away, after a residence of a year. Mrs. Parker suffered here severely from intermittent fever. She was just able to go about when her husband declared his intention to leave the place on account of its being sickly.
"Where do you think of going?" she asked, raising to his her large pensive eyes.
"I have hardly made up my mind yet," he replied. "But I was thinking of R—."