Heriot's Choice Part 91

But he shook his head.

'I have no time: you must not tempt me, Mrs. Heriot; only you have always been so good to me, that I wanted to ask you to say this for me.'

'What am I to say?' asked Mildred, feeling a little bewildered.

He was still standing before her, twirling his hat in his big hands, his broad face flushed a little.

'Tell Miss Olive that I know she has acted rightly; she always does, you know. It would be something to have such a woman as that beside one, strengthening one's hands; but of course it cannot be--she could not deviate from her duty by a hair's-breadth.'

'I do not know if I understand you,' began Mildred, slowly, and groping her way to the truth.

'I think you do. I think you have always understood me,' returned the young man, more quickly. 'And you will tell her this from me. Of course one must have regrets, but it cannot be helped; good-bye, Mrs. Heriot. A thousand thanks for all you have done for me.' And before Mildred could answer, he had wrung her hand, and was half-way through the hall.

An hour later, Mildred stole softly down the vicarage lobby, and knocked at the door of the room she had once occupied, and Olive's voice bade her enter.

'Aunt Milly, I never thought it was you,' she exclaimed, rising hastily from the low chair by the window. 'Is Dr. Heriot with you?'

'No; I left John at home. I told him that I wanted to have a little talk with you, and like a model husband he asked no questions, and raised no obstacles. All the same I expect he will follow me.'

'You wanted to talk to me?' returned Olive, in a questioning tone, but her sallow face flushed a little. 'How strange, when I was just wishing for you too.'

'There must be some electric sympathy between us,' replied her aunt, smiling. 'Nothing could have induced me to sleep until I had seen you.

Mr. Marsden wished me to give you a message from him; he was a little incoherent, but so far as I understand, he wished me to a.s.sure you that he considers yours a right decision.'

Olive's face brightened a little. Mildred had already detected unusual sadness on it, but her calmness was baffling.

'Did he tell you to say that? How kind of him!'

'He did not stop to explain himself; he was in too great a hurry; but I thought he seemed troubled. What was the decision, Olive? Has this helped you to make it?' touching reverently the open page of a Bible that lay beside her.

The brown light in Olive's eyes grew steady and intense; she looked like one who had found rest in a certainty.

'I have just been preaching to myself from that text: "He that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh backward," you know, Aunt Milly.

Well, that seems to point as truly to me as it does to Mr. Marsden.'

'Yes, dearest,' replied Mildred, softly; 'and now what has he said to you?'

'I hardly know myself,' was the low-toned answer. 'I have been thinking it all over, and I cannot now understand how it was; it seems so wonderful that any one could care enough for me,' speaking to herself, with a soft, bewildered smile.

'Does Mr. Marsden care for you. I thought so from the first, Olive.'

'I suppose he does, or else he would not have said what he did; it was difficult to know his meaning at first, he was so embarra.s.sed, and I was so slow; but we understood each other at last.'

'Tell me all he said, dear,' pleaded Mildred. Could it be her own love story that Olive was treating so simply? There was a chord of sadness in her voice, and a film gathered over the brightness of her eyes, but there was no agitation in her manner; the deep of her soul might be touched, but the surface was calm.

'There is not much to tell, Aunt Milly, but of course you may know all.

We had said good-bye, and I had spoken a word or two about his work, and how I thought it the most beautiful work that a man could do, and then he asked me if I should ever be willing to share in it.'

'Well?'

'I did not understand him at first, as I told you, until he made his meaning more plain, and then I saw how it was, that he hoped that one day I might give myself heart and soul to the same work; that my talent, beautiful, as he owned it to be, might not hinder me from such a glorious reality--"the reality,"' and here for the first time she faltered and grew crimson, '"of such work as must fall to a missionary's wife."'

'Olive, my dear child,' exclaimed Mildred, now really startled, 'did he say as much as that?'

'Yes, indeed, Aunt Milly; and he asked if I could care enough for him to make such a sacrifice.'

'My dear, how very sudden.'

'It did not seem so. I cannot make out why I was not more surprised. It came to me as though I had expected it all along. Of course I told him that I liked him better than any one else I had seen, but that I never thought that any one could care for me in that way; and then I told him that while my father lived nothing would induce me to leave him.'

'And what did he say to that?'

'That he was afraid this would be my answer, but that he knew I was deciding rightly, that he had never meant to say so much, only that the last minute he could not help it; and then he begged that we might remain friends, and asked me not to forget him and his work in my prayers, and then he went away.'

'And for once in your life you decided without Aunt Milly.'

The girl looked up quickly. 'Was it wrong? You could not have counselled me to give a different answer, and even if you had--' hesitating, 'Oh, I could not have said otherwise; there was no conflicting duty there, Aunt Milly.'

'Dearest, from my heart I believe you are right. Your father could ill spare you.'

'I am thankful to hear you say so. Of course,' heaving a little sigh, 'it was very hard seeing him go away like that, but I never doubted which was my duty for a moment. As long as papa and Cardie want me, nothing could induce me to leave them.'

'I suppose you will tell them this, Olive?'

'No, oh no,' she replied, shrinking back, 'that would spoil all. It would be to lose the fruit of the sacrifice; it might grieve them too.

No, no one must know this but you and I, Aunt Milly; it must be sacred to us three. I told Mr. Marsden so.'

'Perhaps you are right,' returned her aunt, thoughtfully. 'Richard thinks so highly of him, he might give you no peace on the subject. When we have once made up our minds to a certain course of action, arguments are as wearying as they are fruitless, and overmuch pity is good for no one. But, dear Olive, I cannot refrain from telling you how much I honour you for this decision.'

'Honour me, Aunt Milly!' and Olive's pale face flushed with strong emotion.

'How can I help it? There are so few who really act up to their principles in this world, who when the moment for self-sacrifice comes are able cheerfully to count the cost and renounce the desire of their heart. Ah!' she continued, 'when I think of your yearning after a missionary life, and that you are giving up a woman's brightest prospect for the sake of an ailing parent, I feel that you have done a very n.o.ble thing indeed.'

'Hush, I do not deserve all this praise. I am only doing my duty.'

'True; and after all we are only unprofitable servants. I wish I had your humility, Olive. I feel as though I should be too happy sometimes if it were not for the sorrows of others. They are shadows on the sunshine. Ethel is always in my thoughts, and now you will be there too.'

'I do not think--I do not mean to be unhappy,' faltered Olive. '"G.o.d loveth a cheerful giver," I must remember that, Aunt Milly. Perhaps,'

she continued, more humbly, 'I am not fit for the work. Perhaps he might be disappointed in me, and I should only drag him down. Don't you recollect what papa once said in one of his sermons about obstacles standing like the angel with the drawn sword before Balaam, to turn us from the way?'

Mildred sighed. How often she had envied the childish faith which lay at the bottom of Olive's character, though hidden by the troublesome scrupulousness of a too sensitive conscience. Was the healthy growth she had noticed latterly owing to Mr. Marsden's influence, or had she really, by G.o.d's grace, trodden on the necks of her enemies?

'You must not be sorry about all this,' continued the girl, earnestly, noticing the sigh. 'You don't know how glad I am that Mr. Marsden cares for me.'

'I cannot help feeling that some day it will all come right,' returned Mildred.

'I must not think about that,' was the hurried answer. 'Aunt Milly, please never to say or hint such a thing again. It would be wrong; it would make me restless and dissatisfied. I shall always think of him as a dear friend--but--but I mean to be Olive Lambert all my life.'

Mildred smiled and kissed her, and then consented very reluctantly to change the subject, but nevertheless she held to her opinion as firmly as Olive to hers.