A Letter of Credit Part 59

Rotha received the book with an access of pleasure, which expressed itself however mainly in sparkling eyes and the red tinge of excitement in her cheeks. She did say some words of thanks, but they were not fluent, as customary with her when any great degree of delight was pressing for utterance. Then speech was poor. Mrs. Mowbray did not miss it; she could read the signs, and was satisfied. But long after she was asleep, Rotha lay on her cot with eyes wide open, staring at the remains of the fire. What had come to her? what strange, enchantment-like, fabulous, change of circ.u.mstances? and this dispenser and contriver of happiness, slumbering peacefully on the bed yonder, what was she but a very fairy of blessing, bringing order out of disorder and comfort out of the very depths of confusion. A home, and a friend, and nice dresses, and study, and books! Two books to-day! Rotha was too happy to sleep.

The next day she began school duties again; but Mrs. Mowbray would not have her join the family at meals, until, as she said, she had something comfortable to wear. Rotha was thankful for the kind thoughtfulness that spared her feelings; and in return bent herself to her appointed tasks with an energy which soon disposed of them. However, they took all her time, for Mrs. Mowbray had introduced her to another part of the school and a much more advanced cla.s.s of the pupils. This of itself gave her new spirit. The following day Mrs. Mowbray, as she had promised, sent her with one of the under teachers to have her dresses cut out. They went in a carriage, and drove to Mrs. Marble's. Mrs. Marble wore a doubtful countenance.

"Well, it _is_ time you had something warmer, if you've got nothing more made since those lawns. Where's Mr. Digby?"

"In England."

"England! Don't say! And who's taking care of you?"

"Miss Carpenter is in Mrs. Mowbray's family," said Miss Jewett stiffly.

"Mrs. Mowbray, hey? what, the great school? You _are_ in luck, Rotha. Did Mr. Digby put you there?"

"He did not choose the school," said Rotha. "I went to the same place where my cousin went. Mrs. Marble, that's too tight."

"It'll look a great deal handsomer, Rotha. Slim waists are what all the ladies want."

"I can't be pinched," said Rotha, lifting and lowering her shoulders in the exultation of free play. "I would rather be comfortable."

"It does look better, to be snug, Miss Carpenter," said Miss Jewett, taking the mantua-maker's part.

"I don't care," said Rotha. "I must have room to breathe. Make it loose enough, Mrs. Marble, or it will just come back to you to be altered."

"You're as masterful as you just was, and as I always thought you would be," said the mantua-maker. "I suppose you think times is changed."

"They are very much changed, Mrs. Marble," said Rotha calmly. "But I always had my dresses loose."

"And everything else about you!--" muttered the dress-maker. However, she was never an ill-natured woman, and took her orders with tolerable equanimity.

"You are the first young lady I ever saw trying on dresses, who did not want them to fit nicely," Miss Jewett remarked as they were driving away.

"But I could not _breathe!_" said Rotha. "I like to be comfortable."

"Different people have different notions of comfort," was the comment, not admiring. But Rotha did not give the matter another thought.

The next day was Sunday. "You will not go to church, dear," Mrs. Mowbray had whispered. "I shall not ask you till you have something to keep you warm. Have you a thick outer coat?"

Rotha explained. Her aunt had been about to get her one two or three weeks ago; then they had had their falling out, and since then she had heard no more on the subject.

"We will get things in order by next Sunday. You can study at home to- day, and maybe that will be the best thing for you."

It was the most welcome order Rotha could have received. She went up to Mrs. Mowbray's room, which she still inhabited, and took Bible and New Testament and her newly acquired possession, which she found bore t.i.tle, "The Treasury of Scripture Knowledge," and sat down on the couch. It was all so comfortable around her that Rotha paused to look and think and enjoy. Hid away, she felt; safe and secure from all disturbances; her aunt could not worry her, Antoinette could not even look at her; n.o.body could interfere with her; and the good fairy of her life would come in only to help and shelter her. The warm air; poor Rotha had been inhabiting a region of frost, it must be remembered, material as well as spiritual; the slight sweet perfume that pervaded the room and came, Rotha knew not from what; the pretty, cosy look of the place, furniture, fire, pictures and all;--Rotha sat looking and feeling in a maze of astonishment. That all this should be, geographically, so near Mrs.

Busby's house! With a breath of admiring delight, at last Rotha turned to her books. Yes, if she could get that question settled--

She opened her "Treasury of Scripture Knowledge" and found the fifth chapter of Matthew; then the 24th verse. The first reference here was to Mat. xviii. 15-17.

That does not tell me anything, thought Rotha. I cannot go to aunt Serena and tell her her fault; it would be no use; and besides, that is what I have done already, only not so, I suppose.--Then followed a pa.s.sage from Job and one from Proverbs, which did not, she thought, meet her case.

Then in Mark ix. 50 she found the command to "have peace one with another." But what if I cannot? thought Rotha. Next, in Romans, the word was "Recompense to no man evil for evil"; and, "If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men." This at first caused some exultation, which evaporated upon further reflection. Had it not been possible? If she had been patient, forgiving, sweet; if she had spoken and looked accordingly; would there not have been peace? Her aunt at least would have had nothing against her. Her own cause of grievance would have remained; might she not have forgiven that? A resolute negative answered this gentle suggestion of conscience; like Jonah in the case of his gourd, Rotha said to herself she did well to be angry. At least that Mrs. Busby deserved it; for conscience would not allow the conclusion that she had done "well," at all. It was not as Mr. Digby would have done. He was Rotha's living commentary on the word. She went on. The next pa.s.sage forbade going to law before unbelievers. Then came a word or two from the first epistle of Timothy; an injunction to "pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, _without wrath_--"

Rotha got no further. That arrow struck home. She must not pray with anger in her heart. Then she must forgive, unconditionally; for it would never do to intermit all praying until somebody else should come to a right, mind. Give up her anger! It made Rotha's blood boil to think of it. How could she, with her blood boiling? And till she _did_--she might not think to pray and be heard.

O why is it so hard to be a Christian! why is it made so difficult!

Then Rotha's conscience whispered that the difficulty was of her own making; if _she_ were all right, that would be all easy. She would go on, she thought, with her comparison of Bible pa.s.sages; perhaps she would come to something that would help. The next pa.s.sage referred to was in James.

"But if ye have bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not...

This wisdom descendeth not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish.

For where envying and strife are, there is confusion and every evil work."

"Devilish"! well, I suppose it is, Rotha confessed to herself. "Envying"

--I am not envying; but "strife"--aunt Serena and I have that between us.

And so "there is confusion and every evil work." I suppose there is. But how am I to help it? I cannot stop my anger.--She went on to the next reference. It was,

"Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed."

The Bible was all against her. Tears began to well up into Rotha's eyes.

She thought she would see what the words were about forgiving. Her eye had caught the Lord's prayer on the next leaf. She turned to that place in her reference book. And here, first of all, the words of the prayer itself struck her, and then the 14th and 15th verses below. It was a dead lock! If she could not forgive, she could not be forgiven; sharp and clear the sentence ran; there was no mistaking it, there could be no glossing it over. Rotha's tears silently rose and fell, hot and sorrowful. She did want to be forgiven; but to forgive, no. With tears dripping before her Bible, she would not let them fall on it, she studied a pa.s.sage referred to, in the 18th of Matthew, where Peter was directed to set no bounds to his overlooking of injuries, and the parable of the unmerciful servant is brought up. Rotha studied that chapter long. The right and the truth she saw clearly; but as soon as she thought of applying them to her aunt Busby, her soul rose up in arms. She has done me the cruelest and the meanest of wrongs, said the girl to herself; cruel beyond all telling; what she deserves is to be well shaken by the shoulders. Go to her and say that _I_ have done wrong to _her_ and ask her to forgive _me_, and so help her to forget her own doings--I cannot.- -Rotha made a common mistake, the sophistry of pa.s.sion, which is the same thing as the devil's sophistry. Her confessing and doing right, would have been the very likeliest way to make Mrs. Busby ashamed of herself.

However, Rotha went on with her study. Two pa.s.sages struck her particularly, in Ephesians and Colossians. The first--"Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as G.o.d for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." The other to the same purport, in Col. iii. 13.

But he has not forgiven me, cried Rotha in her heart, while the tears poured; he will not forgive me, unless I forgive her.--"But he is ready to forgive you," the very words before her proclaimed. It was a dead lock, nevertheless; and when Mrs. Mowbray came home from church she found, to her surprise, Rotha still bending over her Bible with her tears dripping on the floor. Mrs. Mowbray took off her hat and cloak before she said a word. Then coming to Rotha's side on the couch, she put one arm round her.

"My dear," she said gently, "what is the matter?"

The tone and the touch were so sympathizing, so tender, that Rotha answered by an affectionate, clinging gesture, taking care at the same time that none of her tears fell on Mrs. Mowbray's rich silk. For a little s.p.a.ce she made no other answer. When she spoke, it was with a pa.s.sionate accent.

"Madame, if I am ever to be a Christian, I must be made all over new!"

"That is nothing uncommon," the lady replied.

"It is every one's case. So the Bible says; 'If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.'"

"But how am I to get made over all new?" Rotha cried.

"That is the Holy Spirit's work. 'Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of G.o.d.'"

"Then must I ask for him?"

"Certainly."

"But if I do not forgive aunt Serena, it is no use for me to pray?"

"Nay, Rotha, if that were true we should be in a bad case indeed. If you read the fifteenth chapter of Luke, you will find that when the prodigal son was returning, his father saw him _while he was yet a great way off;_ and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. If you are truly setting yourself to seek G.o.d, you will find him; and if you are in earnest in wishing to do his will, he will enable you to do it. You must always ask, my dear. The Bible says, 'the Lord over all is rich unto all--' not, that are perfect, but--'that call upon him.'"

"But it says, 'if ye do not forgive, neither will your heavenly Father forgive you.'"

"True; but he will give you that new nature you say you must have; and then forgiving will be easy."

Rotha looked up, partly comforted. And from that time she prayed for a new nature.