“What—about your sister Jane?”
“Yes, sir. I know as it’s all right; and yet somehow I can’t help feeling a bit anxious about her. She must either mend afore long, or break down altogether. I should very much like her to open her heart and her trouble to yourself, sir; for I’m sure it would do her good. I know it all myself, of course; but then I’ve promised her to be as close as wax, and never to talk about it to a soul without she gives me leave. And her Saviour knows it all, too. She goes with it regular to him; but still she brings back some of it with her each time. She don’t mean it; but it’s more nor flesh and blood is equal to, to leave it entirely to him. Now, I do believe, if she would just tell you all, or let me tell it you before her, it would help to lighten her heart and ease her mind. She knows, indeed—as of course every true Christian knows from his Bible—that no mortal man, be he who he may, can do for her what the blessed Saviour only can do; but I am sure that it will make your words, your counsels, and your prayers more precious and profitable to her when she feels that her pastor knows her great sorrow, and can join with her in taking it to the throne of grace, and pleading for light and guidance, and a way out of it too, if the Lord will.”
“I quite agree with you, Thomas,” said Mr Maltby. “At present I can give her only general words of advice and comfort, and can only pray for her about her sorrow in a general way; but if she sees it to be right, and can bear to confide the story of her trial to me, I shall then be able to assist her in grasping with an increasing faith those ‘exceeding great and precious promises’ which will be specially applicable to her case, and may meet any peculiar circumstances connected with her affliction.”
“Thank you, sir, most kindly,” said the other. “I think I have nearly persuaded her to let me tell you all; and I believe it will be best done before herself, for then one telling will do for all, and she will be able to put in a word here and there to make all clear.”
“Just so, Thomas,” said the vicar. “I can easily understand that when once she has broken through her reserve with me, or suffered you to break through it for her, she will be able better to bear the full disclosure, from having part of the weight already removed from her heart.”
“That’s just my view,” said Bradly, “and I’ve told her so more than once. I’m sure she’ll feel lighter in her heart when once she has fully made up her mind that you shall know all, even before you’ve heard a word of her story; and I’m sure she sees it so now herself. So, if it won’t be troubling you too much to ask you to step over to our house to-morrow night about seven o’clock, unless I send you back word, we’ll have the best parlour all to ourselves, and I believe the Lord will make it a blessed night for poor Jane and for us all.”
“It shall be so then, Thomas,” replied the vicar. “I will, if spared, be at your house at seven o’clock, unless I hear anything meanwhile to the contrary from yourself.”
It was with a feeling of deep interest, and a fervent prayer for a blessing, that Ernest Maltby knocked the next evening at the door of Thomas Bradly’s quiet dwelling. Thomas welcomed him with a smile. “It’ll be all right, I know,” he said; “I’ve told her you’re coming, and she has made no objection; and now that the time’s come, the Lord has taken away the worst of the fear.”
The vicar entered, and found the invalid seated by a bright fire, with her little table and the Bible on it by her side. Her poor wan cheeks were flushed with a deeper colour than usual as she rose to greet the clergyman; but there was not so much a look of suffering now in her eyes, as of hopeful, humble, patient trust. Her needlework lay near her Bible, for her skilful fingers were never idle.
Her brother set a chair for their visitor near the fire, and seated himself by him. For a moment no one spoke; then Jane handed the Bible to Mr Maltby, who opened it and read the Hundred and Forty-Second Psalm, giving special emphasis to the words of the third verse, “When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then thou knewest my path.” He offered a short prayer after the reading, and then waited for either brother or sister to spread out the trouble before him.