A Letter of Credit Part 93

"So they are, in the main things. They all love Christ, and trust in his blood, and do his will. So far as they know it, at least. 'Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.' So Jesus said, when he was upon earth."

Mrs. Purcell stopped in what she was doing and looked up at Rotha. "That aint in my 'little blue John,'" she said.

"No, I think the words are in Matthew."

"And aint no other people Christians, but them as is like that?"

"You know what is written in the fourteenth chapter of John--'He that hath my commandments and _keepeth them_, he it is that loveth me.'"

"And aint there no other sort?" inquired Mrs. Purcell, still peering into Rotha's eyes.

"Of Christians? Certainly not. Not of real Christians. How could there be?"

"Then I don't believe there aint none."

"O yes, there are! Many, many. True believers and servants of the Lord Jesus."

"Then Prissy Purcell never see one of 'em," said the woman decidedly.

It shot through Rotha's mind, how careful she must be. This woman's whole faith in Christianity might depend on how she behaved herself. She stood soberly thinking, and then came back to the immediate matter in hand.

"I will pay you, Mrs. Purcell, for my cost and trouble, if ever I can,"

she said. "That is all I can say. I would go away, if I could. I do not want to be here."

"It's hard on you, that's a fact," said the woman. "Well, us won't make it no harder, Joe and me. We aint starvin'. Joe, he's money laid up; and us always has victuals to eat; victuals enough; and good, what they is, for Joe won't have nothin' else. I don' know if you can like 'em. But I can't go up all them stairs."

"I will take care of my own room. Cannot you call me when dinner is ready, in some way?"

"Joe can holler at you. He can go out and holler."

"I'll have my window open, and I shall hear. And some day, Mrs. Purcell, I will pay you."

"All right," said the woman, whose face was completely cleared up and looked pleasanter than Rotha could ever have believed possible. "Prissy Purcell will get you a good dinner."

So the storm was laid; and Rotha went slowly up stairs, feeling devoutly thankful for that, but very, very sorrowful on her own account. Her, fancy was busy, all the while she was putting her room in order, with the possible future; feeling utterly doubtful of her aunt, in every possible respect, and very sad and depressed in view of her condition and in view of the extreme difficulty of mending it. Then flashed into her mind what she had been saying down stairs; and then, what she had been reading and thinking last night. To do her work, to trust the Lord, and _to be content_, were the duties that lay nearest to hand.

The duties were far easier to see than to fulfil; however, Rotha took hold of the easiest first, and prayed her way toward the others. She got out her sewing; obviously, Mrs. Busby knew what she was about when she provided those calico dresses. The stuff was strong and troublesome to sew; the needle went through hard. Rotha sewed on it all day; and indeed for many days more. She kept at her work diligently, as I said, praying her way toward perfect trust and quiet content. In her solitude she made her Bible her companion; one may easily have a worse; and setting it open at some word of command or promise, she refreshed herself with a look at it from time to time, and while her needle flew, turned over the words in her mind and wrought them into prayer. And indeed Rotha had loved her Bible before; but after two weeks of this way of life she loved it after a new fashion, such as she had never known. It became sweet inexpressibly, and living; so that she seemed to hear the words spoken to her from heaven. And those days of solitary work grew into some of the loveliest days Rotha had ever seen. She would take her "Treasury," choose some particular thought or promise to start with, and from that go through a series of pa.s.sages, explaining, elucidating, ill.u.s.trating, enjoining, conditioning, applying, the original word. The care of her room, and carrying water up and down, gave her some exercise; not enough; but Rotha would not indulge herself with out of door amus.e.m.e.nt till her mantua making was done.

She hoped for some temporary release from her prison when Sunday came.

She was disappointed. May sent another pouring rain, and no going out was to be thought of.

"Where do you go to church? when the sun shines," asked Rotha, as she sat at the breakfast-table and looked at the rain driving past the window.

Silence answered her at first.

"Where _do_ you go, Joe?" repeated his wife, with a laugh. "Us is wicked folks, Miss Carpenter. Joe, he don't like to tell on hisself; but 'taint no worse to tell 'u not to tell. So Prissy Purcell thinks."

"Warn't the Sabbath made for rest?" Joe inquired now, with a gleam in his eyes.

"For rest from our own work," said Rotha wonderingly.

"Prissy and me, we haint no other; and it's a blessin' we haven't, for we get powerful tired at that. Aint that so, Prissy?"

"Don't you go to church anywhere?"

"Aint anywheres to go!" said Joe. "Aint no church nowheres, short o'

Tanfield; and there's a difficulty. Suppos'n' I tackled up the bosses and went to Tanfield; by the time we got there, and heerd a sermon, and come back, and untackled, and put the hosses up and cleaned myself again, my day o' rest 'ud be pretty much nowhere. An' I don' know which sermon I'd want to hear, o' the three, if I was there. I aint no Episcopal; and I never did hold with the Methody's; and 'tother man, I'd as lieve set up a dip candle and have it preach to me. Looks like it, too."

Rotha was in silent dismay. Tanfield was too far to go on foot and alone.

Not even Sunday? I am afraid a good part of that Sunday was wasted in tears.

The next morning brought a fresh difficulty. It suddenly flashed upon Rotha that she must have some clothes washed.

That she should ask Mrs. Purcell to do it, was out of the question. That she should hire somebody else to do it, was equally out of the question.

There remained--her own two hands.

Her hands. Must she put them into the wash tub? Must they be roughened and reddened by hard work in hot and cold water? I am afraid pride had something to say here, besides the fastidious delicacy of refinement to which for a long while Rotha bad been accustomed, and which exactly suited the nature that was born with the girl. She went through a hard struggle and a painful one, before she could take meekly what was put upon her. But it _was_ put upon her; there was no other way; and there is no mistake and no oversight in G.o.d's dealings with his children. What he does not want them to do, he does not give them to do. It cost Rotha a good while of her time that morning, but at last she did see it, and then she accepted it. If G.o.d gave it to her to do, there could be no evil in the doing of it, and no hurt, and no disgrace. What she could do for G.o.d, was therewith lifted up out of the sphere of the low and common. Even the censers of Korah's wicked company were holy, because they had been used for the Lord; much more simple service from a believing heart. After a while Rotha's mind swung quite clear of all its embarra.s.sments, and she saw her duty clear and took it up willingly. She went down at once then to the kitchen, where Mrs. Purcell was flying about with double activity.

It certainly seemed that the rest of the Sunday had added wings to her heels.

"Do you wash this morning, Mrs. Purcell?"

"Yes. I aint one o' them as likes shovin' it off till the end o' the week. If I can't wash Monday, Prissy Purcell aint good to live with."

"When will be a convenient time for me to do my washing?"

"Ha' you things to wash?"

"Yes, I am sorry to say. You will lend me a tub, and a little soap, won't you?"

"I don' know whether I will or not. Suppos'n you've got the tub, do you know how to get your things clean? I don' believe you never done it."

"No, I have never done it. But I can learn."

"I guess it'd be more trouble to learn you, than to do the things. You fetch 'em here, and I'll do 'em my own self."

"But I cannot pay you a cent for it, Mrs. Purcell; not now, at least.

You'll have to take it on trust, if you do this for me."

"All right," said Prissy. "You go fetch the things, 'cause I'm bound to have my tubs out o' the way before dinner."

Rotha obeyed, wondering and thankful. The woman was entirely changed towards her; abrupt and unconventional, certainly, in manner and address, but nevertheless shewing real care and kindness; and shewing moreover what a very handsome woman she could be. Her smile was frank and sweet; her face when at rest very striking for its fine contour; and her figure was stately. Moreover, she was an uncommonly good cook; so that the viands, though plain, were made both wholesome and appetizing. In that respect Rotha did not suffer; the exclusive companionship of two such ignorant and unrefined persons was a grievance on the other hand which pressed harder every day.

She kept herself busy. When her dresses were done, she began to spend hours a day out of doors.

The sweet things in the flower borders which were choked and hindered by wild growth and weeds, moved her sympathy; she got a hoe and rake and fork from Mr. Purcell and set about a systematic clearing of the ground.

It was a s.p.a.cious curve from one gate to the other; and all the way went the flower border at one side of the road, and all the way on the other side, except where the house came in. Rotha could do but a little piece a day; but the beauty and pleasantness of that lured her on to spend as much time in the work as she could match with the necessary strength. It was so pretty to see the flowers in good circ.u.mstances again! Here a sweet Scotch rose, its graceful growth covered with wild-looking, fair blossoms; here a bed of lily of the valley; close by a carpet of lovely moss pink, which when cleared of enc.u.mbering weedy growth that half hid it, fairly greeted Rotha like a smile whenever she went out. And periwinkle also ran in a carpet over the ground, green with purple stars; daffodils were pa.s.sing away, but pleasant yet to see; and little tufts of polyanthus and here and there a red tulip shewed now in all their delicate beauty, scarcely seen before. Hyperic.u.m came out gloriously, when an intrusive and overgrown lilac bush was cut away; and syringa was almost as good as jessamine, Rotha thought; little red poppies began to lift their slender heads, and pansies appeared, and June roses were getting ready to bloom. And as long as Rotha could busy herself in the garden work, she was happy; she forgot all that she had to trouble her; even when Prissy Purcell came out to see and criticise what was going on.

"What are you doin' all that for?" the latter asked one day, after standing some time watching Rotha's work. "Are you thinkin' Mis' Busby'll come by and by?"