There happened to live at the outskirts of the little town an elderly lady possessed of singular activity in all her members, especially that most unruly one, the tongue. Give her a little bit of local news or a hard saying to report, and she would never rest till she had distributed the information throughout her entire acquaintance, with a little garnish of her own to the savoury dish, according to the taste or appetite of her hearers. Loved by none, feared by all, her calls were received with apparent cordiality, partly from a natural relish in many for questionable news, and partly from a desire to stand well with one who had the reputations of her neighbours and associates more or less in her power. Young Wilder’s remark on Miss Stansfield’s engagement was a choice morsel of scandal to old Mrs Tinderley, and was duly reported in every house to which she had access. But that was not all. Meeting Mary Stansfield herself one day near her aunt’s house, Mrs Tinderley grasped her warmly by the hand—though hitherto they had never done more than just exchange civil greetings by word of mouth—and congratulated her upon her happy prospects. Miss Stansfield, who knew the old lady’s character well, was about to pass on, after a word or two of civil acknowledgment, but the other would not let her part from her so hastily.
“My dear,” she exclaimed in an earnest half-whisper, “isn’t it really shameful that people should say the ill-natured things they do, calling you a hypocrite, and selfish of all things in the world? And young Mr Wilder too—to think of his saying that ‘you’ve played your cards well.’ Really, it’s too bad. But, my dear Miss Stansfield, if I were you I wouldn’t mind it.”
The old lady paused, expecting to see a blush of vexation and annoyance on her young companion’s face; but she was disappointed.
“Thank you, Mrs Tinderley,” replied Mary Stansfield. “I suppose you mean well by repeating to me these foolish remarks. I can assure you that I do not mind them, as my conscience quite acquits me in the matter, and my happiness in no degree depends on the judgment of those who have made or reported them.”
So saying, she went quietly on her way, leaving poor Mrs Tinderley in a state of utter bewilderment.
To Colonel Dawson the attachment, which was soon avowed on his nephew’s part, was a matter of the sincerest satisfaction; as it was also to the elder Miss Stansfield, who had learned to take great pleasure in the society of Horace Jackson, and to see in him those excellences of a true Christian character which would make him a suitable husband to her invaluable niece. She was pained, however, at the hard things which had been said on the subject, as reported to her by an acquaintance of Mrs Tinderley’s, and spoke to the colonel on the subject.
“I am sure, Colonel Dawson,” she said, “dear Mary is without blame in this matter. The idea of her acting selfishly or ‘playing her cards,’ such a thing is altogether preposterous. I cannot imagine how people can be so wicked as to make such cruel and unjust remarks.”
“Ah, my dear friend,” replied the colonel, smiling, “let it pass, the world will have its say. I am sure your dear niece will have no wish, as I know she has no need, to vindicate her character from such aspersions. She has just gone straight forward in the path of duty, and has met Horace while in that path; and to my mind there would be somewhat of selfishness, or, at any rate, of undue self-consciousness, on her part were she to trouble herself, or to allow her friends to trouble themselves, to defend her conduct in this matter. We are, of course, as Christians, to abstain from all appearance of evil, and to give no handle to the enemies of the truth against us or our profession; but it does not, therefore, follow that we are to decline a path which plainly opens before us in God’s providence, just because that path may be a smooth one, or may lead to a position of wealth and influence. To choose another path which will gain us high credit for self-denial, because we turn away from that which is naturally more attractive to ourselves, may after all be only another though subtler form of selfishness. Surely the right course is just to go in honesty of purpose unreservedly where God’s hand is plainly guiding us and he will take care both of our character and of his own cause in connection with that character, as he orders everything else that is really essential to the welfare and usefulness of each of his own dear children.”