Vashti Part 6

At this juncture the matron was summoned from the room, and, during the silence that ensued, Jessie climbed into her sister's lap, wound her thin arms around her neck, and softly rubbed her pale cheek against the polished rosy face, where perplexity and annoyance were legibly written.

"Salome, don't you love me a little?"

"Of course I do; Jessie, don't be so foolish."

"Please let me go with you and Stanley."

"Do you want to starve,--you poor silly thing?"

"Yes; I would rather starve with Buddie than stay here by myself."

"I want to hear no more of such nonsense. You have not tried starving, and you are too young to know what is really for your good. Now, listen to me. At present I am obliged to leave you here,--come, don't begin crying again; but, if you will be a good girl and try not to fret over what cannot be helped, I promise you that just as soon as I can possibly support you I will take you to live with me."

"How long must I wait?"

"Until I make money enough to feed and clothe you."

"Can't you guess when you can come for me?"

"No, for as yet I know not how I can earn a dollar; but, if you will be patient, I promise to work hard for you and Stanley."

"I will be good. Salome, I have saved a quarter of a dollar that the doctor gave me when I was sick,--because I let the blister stay on my side a half hour longer; and I thought I would send it to Buddie, to buy him some marbles or a kite; but I reckon I had better give it to you to help us get a house."

She drew from her pocket a green calico bag, and, emptying the contents into her hand, picked out from among bra.s.s b.u.t.tons and bits of broken gla.s.s a silver coin, which she held up triumphantly.

"No, Jessie,--keep it. Stanley has plenty of playthings, and you may need it. Besides, your quarter would not go far, and I don't want it.

Good-bye, little darling. Try to give Mrs. Collins no trouble, and recollect that when I promise you anything I shall be sure to keep my word."

Salome drew the child's head to her shoulder, and, as she bent over and kissed the sweet, pure lips, Jessie whispered, "When we say our prayers to-night, we will ask G.o.d to send us some money to buy a home, won't we? You know he made the birds feed Elijah."

"But we are not prophets, and ravens are not flying about with bags of money under their wings."

"We do not know what G.o.d can do, and if we are only good, He is as much bound to take care of us as of Elijah. He made the sky rain manna and partridges for the starving people in the desert, and He is as much our G.o.d as if we came out from Egypt under Moses. I know G.o.d will help us, if we ask Him. I am sure of it; for last week I lost Mrs.

Collins' bunch of keys, and, when I could not find them anywhere, I prayed to G.o.d to help me, and, sure enough, I remembered I left them in the dairy where I was churning."

Jessie's countenance was radiant with hope and faith, which her sister could not share, yet felt unwilling to destroy; and, checking the heavy sigh that rose from her oppressed heart, she hastily quitted the house.

In the midst of confused and perturbed reflections, rose like some lonely rock-based beacon in boiling waves her sacred promise to the trusting child, and ingenuity was racked to devise some means for its prompt fulfilment. Consanguinity began to urge its claim vehemently, and long dormant tenderness pleaded piteously for exiled idols.

"If I were only a Christian, like Dr. Grey! His faith, like strong wings, bears him high above all sloughs of despond, all mora.s.ses of moodiness. People cannot successfully or profitably serve two masters.

That is eminently true; not because it is scriptural, but _vice versa_; because it is so obviously true it could not escape a place in the Bible. Half work pays poor wages, and it is not surprising that neither G.o.d nor Mammon will patiently submit to it. I suppose the time has come when I must bargain myself to one or the other; for, hitherto, I have declared in favor of neither. I am not altogether sanctified, nor yet desperately wicked, but I hate Satan, who ruined my father, infinitely more than I dislike the restrictions of religion. I owe him a grudge for all the shame and suffering of my childhood,--which, if G.o.d did not interfere to prevent, at least there is strong presumptive evidence that he took no pleasure in witnessing.

I don't suppose I have any faith; I scarcely know what it means; but perhaps if I try to serve G.o.d instead of myself, it will come to me as it came to Paul and Thomas. I wonder whether mere abstract love of righteousness and of the Lord drives half as many persons into Christian churches as the fear of eternal perdition. I don't deny that I am afraid of Satan, for if he contrives to smuggle so much sin and sorrow into this world what must his own kingdom be? If there be any truth in the tradition that every human being is afflicted by some besetting sin that crouches at the door of the soul, lying in ambush to destroy it, then my own 'Dweller of the Threshold,' is love of mine ease. Time was when I would have bartered my eternal heritage for a good-sized mess of earthly pottage, provided only it was well spiced and garnished; but to-day I have no inclination to be swindled like Esau. Idleness has well-nigh ruined me, so I shall take industry by the horns, and laying thereon all my sins of indolence, drive it before me as the Jews drove Apopompoeus."

She walked on in the direction of the town, turning her head neither to right nor left, and keeping her eyes fixed on the blue air before her, where imagination built a home, through whose s.p.a.cious halls Stanley and Jessie sported at will. On the princ.i.p.al street stood a fashionable dress-making and millinery establishment, and thither Salome bent her steps, resolved that the sun should not set without having witnessed some effort to redeem the pledge given to Jessie.

Panoplied in Miss Jane's patronage, she demanded and obtained admission to the inner apartment of this Temple of Fashion, where presided the Pythoness whose oracular utterances swayed _le beau monde_.

What pa.s.sed between the two never transpired, even among the apprentices that thronged the adjoining room; but when Salome left the house she carried under her arm a large bundle which furnished work for the ensuing fortnight.

Evening shadows overtook her, while yet a mile distant from home, and as she pa.s.sed a small cottage, where candle-light flared through the open window, she saw Dr. Grey standing beside the bed, on which, doubtless, lay some sufferer.

Ere many moments had elapsed, she heard his well-known footstep on the rocky road, and involuntarily paused to greet him.

"What called you to old Mrs. Peterson's?"

"Her youngest grandchild is very ill with brain fever; so ill that I shall return and sit up with him to-night."

"I was not aware that physicians condescended to act as mere nurses,--to execute their own orders."

"Then I fear you have formed a very low estimate of the sacred responsibilities of my profession, or of the characters of those who represent it. The true physician combines the offices of surgeon, doctor, nurse, and friend."

"Mrs. Peterson is almost dest.i.tute, and to a great extent dependent on charity; consequently you need not expect to collect any fee."

"Knowing her poverty, I attend the family gratuitously."

"Is not your charity-list a very long one?"

"Could I divest myself of sympathy with the sufferings of those who compose it I would not curtail it one iota; for I feel like Boerhaave, who once said, 'My poor are my best patients; G.o.d pays for them.'"

"Then, after all, you are actuated merely by selfishness, and remit payments in earthly dross,--in 'filthy lucre,'--in order to collect your fees in a better currency, where thieves do not break through nor steal?"

"'He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker; but he that honoreth Him, hath mercy on the poor.' If a tinge of selfishness mingle with the hope of future reward, it will be forgiven, I trust, by the great Physician, who, in sublimating human nature, seized upon its selfish elements as powerful agencies in the regeneration of mankind. An abstract worship of virtue is scarcely possible while humanity is clothed with clay, and I am not unwilling to confess that hope of eternal compensation influences my conduct in many respects.

If this be indeed only subtle selfishness, at least we shall be pardoned by Him who promised to prepare a place in the Father's mansion for those who follow His footsteps among the poor."

She looked up at him, with a puzzled, searching expression, that arrested his attention, and exclaimed,--

"How singularly honest you are! I believe I could have faith if there were more like you."

"Faith in what?"

"In the n.o.bility of my race,--in the possibility of my own improvement,--in the watchful providence of G.o.d."

"Salome, there is much sound philosophy in the eighty-seventh and eighty-ninth maxims of cynical Rochefoucauld, 'It is more disgraceful to distrust one's friends than to be deceived by them. Our mistrust justifies the deceit of others.' My opportunities have been favorable for studying various cla.s.ses of men, and my own experience corroborates the truth of Montaigne's sagacious remark, 'Confidence in another man's virtue is no slight evidence of a man's own.' Try to cultivate trust in your fellow creatures, and the bare show of faith will sometimes create worth."

"Did Christ's show of confidence in Judas save him from betrayal?"

"Let us hope that he was the prototype of a very limited cla.s.s. You must not expect to find mankind divided into two great castes--one all angels, the other comprising hopeless demons. On the contrary, n.o.ble and most ign.o.ble impulses alternately sway the actions and thoughts of the majority of our race; and the saint of to-day is not unfrequently tempted to become the fiend of to-morrow. Remember that the conflict with sinful promptings begins in the cradle--ends only in the coffin,--and try to be more charitable in your judgments."

They walked a few yards in silence, and at length Salome asked,--

"Were you not kept up all of last night?"

"Yes; I was obliged to ride fifteen miles to set a dislocated shoulder."

"Then you must be exhausted from fatigue, and unfit for watching to-night. Will you not allow me to relieve you, and take charge of Mrs. Peterson's grandchild? I admit I am very ignorant; but I will faithfully follow your directions, and I think you may venture to trust me."

Confusion flushed her face as she made this proposition, but in the pale, pearly l.u.s.tre of the summer starlight, it was not visible.

"Thank you heartily, Salome. I could implicitly trust your intentions, but the case is almost hopeless, and I fear you are too inexperienced to render it safe for me to commit the child to your care. I appreciate your kindness, but am too much interested in the boy to leave him when the disease is at its crisis, and a cup of coffee will strengthen me for the vigil. You have been to the Asylum this afternoon; tell me something about little Jessie."