Assuredly they did so in the case of Nick and Nan, for they were my hands that joined their hands at the altar, and it was I, who put to them that solemn oath of mutual fidelity which they have never broken to this hour.
Out of the darkness comes the light, out of the cloud comes the sunshine, and it is my experience, that those who suffer most, and that those who “have patience and endure” have some of their reward in this world as well as in the next.
Whatever the sorrows of my life have been—and they have been many and bitter ones—I have had the comfort to-day of seeing gathered together the happiest family in all the land.
I never shall forget the scene this Christmas Eve, in the cosy sitting-room of their lovely cottage by the sea.
Outside, the sparkling snow covered the garden, and rested softly on the tree branches and the evergreens.
Inside, the Yule logs sparkled on the hearth, the old oak parlour was decorated with holly and laurel and arbutus and mistletoe. The table was laden with the good things of this world, as it should be at Christmas time. The wine that, honestly and temperately enjoyed, is as much man’s possession as the corn in the fields or the fruit on the garden trees, sparkled in every glass. Each face seemed radiant with joy.
There sat old Barkston with his chaplain, as I call myself, at his right hand, and his youngest girl grandchild on his knee, an auburn-haired darling of some six summers, who delights the old gentleman by her shrewd observations and her curious ways.
There sat young Barkston, the Nick of old days, with a girl child on his knee, “dangling the grapes,” but with the disengaged hand clasped in that of beautiful and radiant Nan, who, like most fond mothers, had the best place in her honest heart for her only boy—young Nick, as he is familiarly called.
A little lower down, a little shy perhaps, but alternately garrulous and tearful, sat Mr. and Mrs. Cheevers, who were placed at the hospitable table as amongst the most favoured guests.
But before the party broke up and the evening ended, there came that old Christmas ceremony that, I regret to say, is falling into disuse and neglect.