SMALL THINGS. 
 
 BY 
 
 REESE i ROCK WELL, 
 
 1 For who hath despised the day of small things." ZKCH. 4. to. 
 
 SEW YORK: 
 PHILLIPS & HUNT. 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 CRAXSTON db STOWE. 
 
 *3
 
 Copyright, 1883, by 
 PHILLIPS & HUNT, 
 
 New York.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PACS 
 
 I. FRANK'S DECISION 5 
 
 II. ACTING 13 
 
 III. THE RAINY DAY -21 
 
 IV. HAPPINESS 37 
 
 V. CIRCUMSTANCES 41) 
 
 VI. " A BIT OF FUN " :,7 
 
 VII. TRAMPLING OVER PEARLS 7;j 
 
 VIII. LILY SHERWOOD 80 
 
 IX. L\ COMPLETENESS 89 
 
 X. IN THE SHADOW 99 
 
 XI. LOOKING FOR THE SUNSHINE 107 
 
 XII. A QUIET MIND 118 
 
 XIII. RESPONSIBILITY 127 
 
 XIV. BITTER SWEET 1^7 
 
 XV. TRIFLING WITH SOULS 147 
 
 XVI. WARREN 1 "> 7 
 
 XVII. STRENGTH 108 
 
 XVIII. CLOSER TO GOD 175 
 
 XIX. PROVIDENCES. 167 
 
 XX. UNTO THE UTTERMOST 196 
 
 XXI. GOD'S BLESSING 208 
 
 XXII. RAINBOWS.. . 220 
 
 2212605
 
 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 i. 
 
 FRANK'S DECISION. 
 
 " Master, speak 1 and make me ready 
 
 When thy voice is truly heard, 
 With obedience glad and steady, 
 
 Still to follow every word. 
 I am listening:, Lord, for thee; 
 Master, speak, speak to me 1 " 
 
 ft T SUPPOSE it is one of His mysterious 
 _L ways," said Frank, thoughtfully. She 
 stood by the open window, Frank Farington, 
 with her troubled face and serious eyes, look- 
 ing idly away to the sunlit hills, her perplexed 
 and yearning gaze taking no note of the Octo- 
 ber splendor that brooded so richly over all the 
 world. 
 
 She was questioning, in an impatient way, 
 why God does not speak to his servants now, as 
 he did in ancient times ; why he leaves them so 
 often in doubt and perplexity, with no star to 
 beckon them through the mist of uncertainty.
 
 6 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 All day she had been asking, " Lord, what 
 wilt thou. have me to do ? " but he had given 
 her no answer and no sign. 
 
 The mail that morning had brought two let- 
 ters. One offered her a fine position in the 
 graded school at Millerton, the other was an 
 urgent invitation from her Aunt Laura to spend 
 the winter at her delightful home in "Washing- 
 ton. Had either of these proposals come to her 
 separately, she would have seized upon it with 
 great eagerness as an answer to the petition that 
 had been going up from her heart to God for 
 many months, that he would open a way for 
 her into something better than the aimless life 
 of this summer had been. But before these 
 two ways, which he had opened so suddenly, 
 she stood bewildered. Had it been a question 
 of self-gratification the choice would have been 
 an easy one. 
 
 Aunt Laura was very lonesome, she had writ- 
 ten. " Since Louise was married and gone to 
 brighten another home, the light had gone out 
 of the home she had left. If Frank would come, 
 she should have all the advantages which a win- 
 ter in Washington affords." It was very tempt- 
 ing to the country girl, just escaped from the
 
 FRANK'S DECISION-. 7 
 
 confinement of school life, animated, and eager 
 for new things. 
 
 But on the other hand was the school. She 
 had always intended to teach. It was the ob- 
 ject to which she had been directing all her en- 
 ergies since her fifteenth year. She was twenty 
 now. If only Aunt Laura had not written, 
 then she would have known what was God's 
 will. 
 
 But Aunt Laura needed her. She was miss- 
 ing her young daughter sorely. Winsome 
 Louise had been so much to her mother. " It 
 would be a trial to any one to lose Louise Suth- 
 erland who had ever had her. I could never 
 take her place," sighed Frank, " but I might be 
 a little comfort." 
 
 There was a shout and a laugh in the street, 
 and the sound of bounding feet. The children 
 were coming home from school. Frank watched 
 them with a half smile. How short the time 
 seemed since she was a little girl running home 
 from that same old school. O what a happy 
 time it had been! Why couldn't one always 
 stay a child ? There were no cares, no perplex- 
 ities, no worries, no longings in the child-world. 
 It was hard to grow up.
 
 8 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Frank," called her mother, " come down, 
 dear ; Mrs. Mason is here." 
 
 " O dear ! " she sighed, as she smoothed her 
 hair and dress and went down. 
 
 Mrs. Mason was one of the wealthy ladies in 
 her father's congregation. She was little and 
 fussy and overdressed. She had a way, Frank 
 thought, of making every one feel uncomforta- 
 ble in her presence. She looked up now. as the 
 minister's daughter entered, and gave her a long 
 stare, taking in every detail, from her head to 
 her feet. What she saw was a slight, very 
 slight figure, in a white dress, \vith pale blue rib- 
 bons knotted in the hair and at the throat. The 
 eyes' were gray, with long lashes, which made 
 them black in the shade ; the brown hair waved 
 softly over a forehead too high for beauty, the 
 skin was fair, with a color that came and went, 
 and the mouth was lovely. 
 
 All this Mrs. Mason saw, and with a glance 
 at the little white hands, did not seem alto- 
 gether pleased. 
 
 "You have been away a long time, Miss 
 Frank," was her first remark. 
 
 " Eight years. I was twelve when I went." 
 
 " Have you been in school all the time I "
 
 FRANK'S DECISION. 9 
 
 " Yes. I was three years in a select school 
 and live at Mrs. Leroy's seminary for young 
 ladies." 
 
 " You have been highly favored. I never 
 had any such advantages when I was young. I 
 should think you would feel everlastingly in- 
 debted to your uncle. Did you not consider it 
 your duty to devote your whole life to him? " 
 
 " Dear Uncle Ralph never needed me. lie 
 died when I was in my third year at the sem- 
 inary." 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! I was not aware of it. What 
 are you going to do now? Can you content 
 yourself here ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid not," said Mrs. Farington, with 
 a soft laugh ; " she never was a home girl. 
 Think of her staying away eight years ! " 
 
 " Did you never get homesick ? " asked Mrs. 
 Mason. 
 
 " At first, yes ; but Canada is so far away, 
 and papa and mamma came to see me twice. I 
 was too busy to think of home." 
 
 " Have you thought of teaching ? " 
 
 " It has been my heart's desire and decided 
 intention for years." 
 
 " "Well, I think you had better stay at home
 
 10 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 and take care of your mother. She has looked 
 worn-out all summer. The world is too full of 
 teachers now : and there is your sister. Mamie 
 must be fourteen ? " 
 
 " She is fifteen." 
 
 " Indeed ! She will be wanting to try her 
 wings before long. Don't you go to looking 
 up a school, Frank. You are wanted right here 
 in Crescent." 
 
 Mrs. Farington changed the subject, and the 
 visitor rattled on ; but Frank heard no more. 
 Those last words kept repeating themselves : 
 " You are wanted right here in Crescent." 
 "Was it the voice of God ? Had he spoken 
 through such very careless lips ? Did he ever 
 speak thus ? She almost smiled at the thought 
 of Mrs. Mason as God's messenger, and yet it 
 was possible. She had asked him that after- 
 noon to send some one to tell her what to do. 
 Mrs. Mason had told her. Had he sent her? 
 She drew a sigh of relief as the lady took her 
 departure. 
 
 " Mamie, I wish you would run over to the 
 post office ; I think the evening mail is in," said 
 her mother to the young girl, who entered nois- 
 ily, with a pile of school-books.
 
 FRANK'S DECISION. 11 
 
 The fair face twisted into a frown. 
 
 " Mamma, I can't ; I'm going to ride with 
 Fan Lewis." 
 
 " My dear, I wish you wouldn't. That horse 
 isn't fit for a child like Fanny to drive. I can- 
 not see why her father allows it. I suppose " 
 
 " There's no supposing in the case, mamma. 
 I'm going. Papa said I could." 
 
 She ran out, sprang into the low phaeton 
 which was waiting at the door, and was off be- 
 fore the timid mother could remonstrate. 
 
 Frank quickly noticed the anxious look that 
 crept into her mother's eyes. She saw also how 
 pale and worn her face was, the face that used 
 to be so fresh and rosy. 
 
 " Shall I go for the mail ? " she asked. 
 
 " If you have time ; it will save papa the 
 trouble. lie will be tired when he comes 
 home. Take a shawl, it is getting cool." 
 
 Frank walked slowly. The air was delicious. 
 There was a crimson and golden light on the 
 hills as the sun touched them with its parting 
 glow. The streets were ablaze with golden 
 maples. She stooped to pick a leaf now and 
 then abstractedly. " Eight here in Crescent," 
 something kept repeating. Why did the voice
 
 12 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 jar so? It was a beautiful village. It was a 
 lively, wide-awake flourishing village. It con- 
 tained all she loved most on earth. Why, then, 
 did she shrink so from the voice that bade her 
 stay in Crescent ? Why, because, in her youth 
 and inexperience, she had been dreaming golden 
 dreams of some great and good work which she 
 would accomplish when her school days would 
 be over, and she should be ready for the battle 
 of life. Precisely what that work was to be 
 she could not have told, but she had vague ideas 
 of filling her life up to its fullest extent with 
 usefulness of glorifying God, and benefiting 
 his creatures. Every talent which had been 
 committed to her she had designed to cultivate 
 and enrich until she became like a corner-stone, 
 " polished after the similitude of a palace." And 
 now this was to be the end of her dreams! 
 She would settle down in the country village. 
 She would help her mother with the house- 
 work. She would darn stockings and make 
 shirts. She would entertain the numerous call- 
 ers at the parsonage. She would attend the 
 weekly prayer-meeting. She would teach a 
 class in Sunday-school. In short, she would be 
 just like all the other young ladies in Crescent.
 
 FRANK'S DECISION. 13 
 
 Well, what of it, after all ? Could she not glo- 
 rify God in a quiet life I They did need her 
 at home. Once suggested, the fact was plain 
 enough. Her father was growing old. She 
 had noticed last night how gray his hair was, 
 and how deep the lines had grown in his fore- 
 head. And her mother, one had only to glance 
 at her to see the weariness that had come over 
 her, and the anxiety, and the worry. Then there 
 were her sister and brother. She had scarcely 
 given them a thought before. Mamie was grow- 
 ing up wild, reckless, and often openly disobe- 
 dient. Warren, she remembered now, she had not 
 thought of it before, how late he came in at night, 
 and how rude and ungentlemanly were his man- 
 ners! She had seen her father look at him with 
 such an anxious yearning in his eyes. Did 
 Warren need her ? idle, careless, mischievous, 
 pestering Warren. There was very little love 
 in her heart for her young brother. 
 
 Among the other letters which she found at 
 the post-office was one from her cousin Louise. 
 She read and re-read it as she walked home. It 
 was full of temptation, picturing, as only Louise 
 Sutherland's happy pen could picture, all the 
 delights which awaited her at Washington.
 
 14 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 Frank sighed as she crushed the letter in her 
 pocket. She knew it all too well. Why, Aunt 
 Laura's very companionship was education ; and 
 besides, she needed her. Perhaps, after all, that 
 was what God meant. There must not be the 
 possibility of a mistake. 
 
 It was growing dark when she reached the 
 parsonage. The light from the study lamp 
 streamed out over the lawn. Frank stepped 
 upon the piazza and looked in at the open 
 window. Her father stood by his desk, leaning 
 his head upon his hand. 
 
 " What is troubling you, dearest ? " his wife 
 asked as she entered softly. His face, as he 
 raised it, was haggard. 
 
 " It is our boy, Alice," he said, falteringly. 
 " I met him this afternoon driving with some 
 young men, and he had been drinking deeply. 
 I had not intended to tell you this," he added, as 
 he folded her in his arms as he spoke. " O my 
 son ! my son ! " 
 
 Frank crossed the hall and went up stairs 
 with a slow, firm step. She had decided ; she 
 would stay in Crescent.
 
 ACTING. 15 
 
 II. 
 
 ACTING. 
 
 " If thou hast friends, give them thy best endeavor, 
 Thy warmest impulse, and thy purest thought." 
 
 K r\ OME and take a walk with me." 
 
 \J Frank was sitting in a low rocking- 
 chair upon the piazza, under the shadow of the 
 woodbine, darning stockings. The voice start- 
 led her, arid she looked up to behold a tall, 
 graceful girl, in a brown walking-suit, leaning 
 upon the gate. 
 
 u Why, Nel Lewis, do you tread upon air ? 
 Come in." 
 
 " No. I must walk a mile every day for my 
 health, father says. I hate to walk alone. Put 
 on your hat and come along." 
 
 " Wait until I finish this sock," laughed 
 Frank. 
 
 " Do you know what a picture you are, with 
 the shadow of those red leaves on your white 
 dress ? Why do you always wear white ?" 
 
 " I don't know. I always have. I love it."
 
 16 SMALL T JUNGS. 
 
 " Do you like to darn stockings ? " 
 
 " Like it ! Do you like to take medicine ? " 
 
 " I don't see what that has to do with it ; 
 darning stockings isn't taking medicine." 
 
 " Isn't it ? It is very good for a tit of the 
 heroics. Nothing brings one down from the 
 clouds more quickly." 
 
 " How queer you are ! If I ever got up in 
 the clouds I'd stay there ; the trouble is I can't 
 rise. I am of the earth, earthy." 
 
 " The earth is an excellent place to live in. 
 There, I've finished it. Now I must hide this 
 basket or mamma will find it and deprive me of 
 the pleasure of doing the rest." 
 
 She ran in and re-appeared in a moment with 
 a white shawl upon her arm. 
 
 " Well, which way, Nel ? " 
 
 " O I'm going out of town to the old chestnut- 
 trees. I want to talk to you, Frank. I must 
 tell some one or I shall die. We used t be 
 such good friends in the old school days. 
 Don't you wish we could go back again and be 
 little girls ? If I could enjoy things as I used 
 to, such little things, I'd be willing to go to 
 school through all time and all eternity." 
 
 " O, Nel ! would you condemn yourself to
 
 ACTING. 17 
 
 eternal babyhood ? Don't you think it would 
 be rather monotonous ? It is a good thing to 
 grow up." 
 
 " Is it ? I haven't found it so. It's been 
 nothing but trouble, trouble, trouble ever since 
 I was sixteen. I wish I had died when my 
 mother did." 
 
 " I wouldn't say that. What is the trouble ? 
 You ought to be perfectly happy." 
 
 " Happy ! Can I trust you, Frank ? " 
 
 Frank turned her clear, dark gaze full upon 
 her companion. 
 
 " You can trust me," she said. 
 
 " I thought so. I have often longed for you 
 to come home. Did you ever have a lover, 
 Frank?" 
 
 Frank laughed. 
 
 " .No. I didn't know I was old enough for 
 such things." 
 
 " Not old enough ! Why, you are as old as I 
 am." 
 
 "I am a month older; but remember, my 
 school days are only just behind." 
 
 " Why, I had lovers when I was fourteen." 
 
 " So much the worse for you. At that time 
 you should have been engaged in a mental
 
 18 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 discipline which would have made you fit to 
 receive a good man's love when it was offered." 
 
 " Frank Farington, you talk like your father. 
 Do you love your father ? " 
 
 " Nel, are you crazy ? Why should I not love 
 my father ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I hate mine." 
 
 A hard, stern look settled over Frank's beau- 
 tiful mouth, and she walked on in grim si- 
 lence. 
 
 " "Well, why don't you say something ? " asked 
 !Nel, impatiently. 
 
 " I have nothing to say to any one who hates 
 her father." 
 
 " See here ; suppose your father had taken 
 away all your happiness and condemned you to 
 a long misery, would you love him ? " 
 
 " I think so. I should know he did it for 
 my best good." 
 
 "It is very easy to talk in that way when 
 you've never been tried. "Wait until your fa- 
 ther refuses to let you hold any intercourse with 
 some one you love with all your heart. Wait 
 until he sets his foot down upon you in that 
 way, and see if you'll think he is doing it for 
 your best good."
 
 ACTING. 10 
 
 " One thing I am sure of, Nel. My father 
 would never thwart my wishes in such a matter 
 for his own pleasure, nor would yours. Are 
 you really sure that your lover is worthy of 
 you, Nel?" 
 
 " I am sure that he is very dear to me." 
 
 " Is he pure in his life and character, upright 
 and honorable in all his dealings ? Do I know 
 him?" 
 
 u You know him Howard Delano." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 She did know him. The most reckless, dissi- 
 pated, profane young man in Crescent ! 
 
 " Because he is thoughtless, and inclined to 
 be a little fast, father thinks he is a confirmed 
 drunkard and a hopeless case." 
 
 " Well, has he not a habit of becoming in- 
 toxicated ? " 
 
 " People say so ; but what of it ? All young 
 men of his gay disposition will be a little wild 
 occasionally. He will settle down when we are 
 married." 
 
 " Don't build any hopes on that ; if he doesn't 
 love you well enough to settle down now, he 
 never will. Can't you give him up ? " 
 
 " I suppose I'll have to. Father is dreadful.
 
 20 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 He said last night if I ever spoke to Howard 
 Delano again he would disown me and turn me 
 out of the house. Think of it, Frank ! " 
 
 " Yes, I do think of it, and I think that some 
 day you will bless your father for this." 
 
 " But how am I going to live ? You never 
 loved any one like this. Frank, you don't un- 
 derstand." 
 
 " I think I do. It is hard. "We must all 
 meet hard things in this life. It is the weari- 
 some drill and the battle that make the good 
 soldier." 
 
 " O yes, I know all that, but it don't help me 
 any. What will ? " 
 
 " Well, suppose you try to think of something 
 in the world besides Howard Delano. Be a 
 comfort to your father. He looks as if he 
 needed a helper." 
 
 ' Well, he'll never find it in me. What 
 else?" 
 
 " There is Fanny. She has no mother. She 
 needs an older sister." 
 
 " For pity's sake, don't throw Fan Lewis up 
 to me ! She's past help, and you had better not 
 talk about it either, for every one says your 
 Mamie is the worst of the two. and leads Fan
 
 ACTING. 21 
 
 into all kinds of mischief; a minister's daugh- 
 ter, too ! " 
 
 " Yes, I know it ; Mamie needs a vast deal of 
 polishing before she will become lovely. Can't 
 we help our sisters ? " 
 
 " I don't know. There's not much hope for 
 my sister, I guess. What else ? " 
 
 "Well, here are all the young people in 
 Crescent. They all need us." 
 
 " Pshaw ! you don't know any thing about 
 them. There are no young ladies worth speak- 
 ing of, and the young men are horrid. Father 
 says there is not a manly man among them/' 
 
 " Then we have a wide field, Nel. Let us 
 make them manly." 
 
 " How ? We can't run after them." 
 
 Xo, but we can throw a pure influence over 
 them whenever we come in contact with them, 
 and that must necessarily be often. Let them 
 see that we have no toleration for their vices, 
 and they may be led to abandon them. If they 
 see that we have a great contempt for what is 
 dishonorable and impure, I think they will be 
 ashamed of such things in themselves. I be- 
 lieve a right-minded Christian young woman 
 has a powerful influence over wayward young
 
 22 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 men if she exerts it. It is worth trying any 
 way." 
 
 "Well, there may be something in that, 
 though my faith is small. I remember hearing 
 your father say, ' If the young women of a place 
 are true women the young men will be true 
 men.' I hope you are not going away again, 
 Frank?" 
 
 " Not now. There is work for me to do in 
 Crescent, I see." 
 
 " Make me a part of your work, wont you ? " 
 
 " No ; I'll make you my helper." 
 
 When Nel reached home that night she did 
 not go to her room and cry as usual ; instead, 
 she fastened a scarlet geranium in her hair, and 
 went down and arranged a tempting dish for 
 her father's supper. Fan came rushing in at 
 dark in her boisterous way. 
 
 " Nel, pa won't let me go to the circus to- 
 night ! Isn't he too mean ? 'Most all the girls 
 are going. It's just hateful." 
 
 " I wouldn't say so, Fan. Pa gets tired rid- 
 ing all day ; a doctor's life is hard. Let's make 
 him happier, and then he wont be so cross. I 
 wouldn't go to the circus if I could." 
 
 When Dr. Lewis came home he found
 
 ACTING. 23 
 
 bright faces and laughter instead of frowns and 
 sighs. 
 
 " Nellie is growing like her mother," he said 
 to himself. 
 
 So these people were happier that night be- 
 cause Frank Farington stayed in Crescent.
 
 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 III. 
 THE RAINY DAT. 
 
 " We sometimes wonder why our Lord doth place us 
 
 Within a sphere so narrow, so obscure, 
 That nothing we call work can find an entrance ; 
 
 There's only room to sufler, to endure." 
 
 M TF there's any thing I hate it's a rainy 
 
 JL day ! " said Mamie. 
 
 She was standing before the fire with a brown 
 vail tied over her hat, and her long light curls 
 falling in a shining mass over her water-proof 
 cloak. 
 
 " And I love a rainy day," said Frank, think- 
 ing of the long, quiet, undisturbed hours that 
 were before her. 
 
 " Well, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if one 
 could stay at home all day. Think of that long 
 walk to school, and Miss Monroe is always 
 dreadful on a rainy day. She's horrid every 
 day. They say she lost her lover three or four 
 years ago. I wish he'd lived and spared us the 
 infliction. I guess he must have died in. a 
 storm. She's always uglier when it rains."
 
 THE RAINY DAY. 25 
 
 " Don't be heartless, Mamie. Can't you do 
 some kind thing for Miss Monroe to-day ? 
 Promise me." 
 
 " I can't promise," laughed Mamie, taking up 
 her strap of books. "My, how it rains! and 
 sure as you live, Frank, here comes Miss Sa- 
 repta to spend the day ! You wont get clear of 
 her till dark, you can depend on that. Ma's 
 gone to bed with her headache, and pa's writing. 
 You'll have her on your hands. Ha, ha, I don't 
 envy you your rainy day, Miss Frances." 
 
 She ran out, laughing and bowing to the old 
 lady at the gate. Frank sat still, the color boiling 
 into her cheeks. Was ever any thing more vex- 
 atious ? All her plans for the day were upset. 
 Instead of the literary and musical feast which 
 she had promised herself, she must sit down and 
 entertain a tiresome old woman. She watched 
 the bent form as it came feebly up the steps. 
 Perhaps the dear Lord was sending one of his 
 weary disciples to her for a cup of cold water. 
 The thought was so delightful that she met the 
 old lady at the door with a bright smile of wel- 
 come. 
 
 " Come right by the fire, Miss Sarepta," she 
 said, cheerily. " How wet you are ! " and she
 
 26 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 helped the fumbling fingers to undo her 
 wraps. 
 
 " La, Frankie, now don't bother. I thought 
 to myself this mornin' as I was eatin' my break- 
 fast as how maybe I'd better run over and see 
 the dominie's folks for a spell. It's sort o' lone- 
 some-like to home such dark-like days. How's 
 your pa, dear, and your ma ? " 
 
 " Mamma has one of her sick headaches to- 
 day. Papa is well, but he is busy with his ser- 
 mon this morning, so we will have to excuse 
 them. "We'll have a nice quiet time by our- 
 selves until dinner-time, then they will both be 
 able to join us, I hope. Sit here in the rocking- 
 chair by the window and you can see the people 
 go by." 
 
 Having made the old lady comfortable, she 
 brought out her work she was knitting a blue 
 jacket for Mamie and drew up her low chair 
 near Miss Sarepta's. 
 
 " Now, we'll have a nice morning to knit," 
 she said, brightly. " Are you sure you are 
 thoroughly dry ? " 
 
 "O, yes, I'm as cozy as can be. Going to 
 school haint spoiled you a mite, Frankie. 
 Some of 'em does come home with the curiosest
 
 Tin; KALXY DAY. 27 
 
 notions in their heads. Girls haint like what 
 they used to be. They think they mustn't do 
 nothin' but tinkle on a pianny and walk the 
 streets iii flounces and furbelows. Can you 
 play, dear?" 
 
 " Yes. I will play and sing for you when 
 you want me to. I love music, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, if it's the right kind ; but most of 'em 
 plays sich rattlin' tilings, I can't make no sense 
 of it. That was Mamie I met at the door, I 
 ppose ? Land alive, how that child does grow ! 
 Why, she's taller than you a' ready. You al- 
 ways was a little mite. Mamie's wild, aint 
 she ? I thought she kinder tried to poke a lit- 
 tle fun at me this mornin'. I've ketched her 
 at it before." 
 
 " I guess you are mistaken. Mamie is very 
 thoughtless ; she laughs at every thing, but I 
 don't believe she would willingly hurt any one's 
 feelings." 
 
 " That's it ; there's nothin' hurts an old per- 
 son more than to be laughed and sneered at by 
 the young. Is your pa's health pretty good 
 now, Frankie ? " 
 
 " lie doesn't seem very strong. Sometimes 
 I think he studies too hard."
 
 28 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Law, now, may be it's that ! Folks do say 
 he's worried to death about Warren. lie's got 
 into bad ways, "Warren has. Why, lust night I 
 saw him drivin' past with that young Delano ; 
 he's the worst young fellow in town every body 
 says, and they were smokin' and singin' and 
 laughin,' and I'm a little afraid they had been 
 drinkin'. Don't you think Warren worries your 
 pa some, Frankie ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid he does, but we're going to do 
 all we can to save Warren ; and you'll help, too, 
 when you have a chance, wont you, Miss Sa- 
 repta ? " 
 
 " Law, yes. There haint nothin' I wouldn't 
 do for your pa he's a blessed man. He seems 
 to get nearer heaven every Sunday. I wonder 
 if he's been to see Lily Sherwood lately. They 
 say that girl's dying with consumption. I don't 
 believe it. I believe she's just dying for that 
 Dr. Yail that boards there. Do you know Dr. 
 Vail, Frankie ? " 
 
 '' O yes ! I'm well acquainted with him." 
 
 The beautiful color flushed her cheek as she 
 spoke, and the keen old eyes observed it. 
 
 " Folks say he's a flirt," she went on, " but I 
 don't believe it. He's a nice young man as ever
 
 THE RAINY DAT. 29 
 
 lived. He came to see me twice a day last fall 
 when I Lad the fever, and never charged me a 
 cent. I wonder if he will marry Lily ? Do you 
 suppose it will break her heart if he don't ? " 
 
 " Not much danger," laughed Frank. "Hearts 
 don't break so easily." 
 
 " May be not. Has that young Sherwood been 
 here lately ? '' 
 
 " Max ? Yes, he was here last night," was 
 the innocent reply. 
 
 " Was he ? "Well, now, I don't know as I 
 ought to tell you, but they say he was engaged 
 to Belle Wentworth before you came home ; 
 but now he's after you ; he's jilted Belle out 
 and out. May be you knew it. Do you like 
 hi. n?" 
 
 " Well enough ; I have never thought much 
 about it. Have you got entirely over your 
 cough, Miss Sarepta ? " 
 
 " Law, yes! Dr. Lewis, he cured that. He's 
 a nice man, Dr. Lewis is. It's a pity them girls 
 of his are growin' up so wild. Nellie's been run- 
 ning with Howard Delano. They say the doctor's 
 put a stop 1o it ; I don't know. It's a pity their 
 mother had'nt lived. She was a grand woman, 
 Mrs. Lewis was; the girls don't take after her a
 
 30 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 bit. They say Bert "Went worth's after Nellie, 
 too. I don't see what they all see in her. She's 
 no beauty to speak of. Have you met the new 
 Congregational minister, Frankief lie's hand- 
 some as a picture. You'd better set your cap 
 for him. You and him would make a good 
 match." 
 
 This last was too much for Frank. She set 
 her lips tight to keep back the laugh that was 
 bubbling over them. 
 
 " If you will excuse me for a while I will see 
 about dinner, and after that we'll have some 
 music," she said, rising and folding up her 
 work. 
 
 " Certainly ; don't let me hinder you about 
 any thing. I like to sit here and look out into 
 the street." 
 
 As Frank passed in and out she heard the 
 old lady singing softly, in her broken voice, 
 
 " Thy walls are all of precious stones?, 
 Thy bulwarks, diamond squares." 
 
 ""What a mixing up of subjects," thought 
 Frank, smiling, " match-making, gossip, and the 
 golden streets of the ~New Jerusalem." And 
 yet the combination was not so strange after
 
 THE RAINY DAY. 31 
 
 all, when we consider how nearly the two worlds 
 touch each other. 
 
 After dinner Mrs. Farington took the visitor 
 to her own room, and Frank was at liberty once 
 more. She brought her writing-desk to the 
 cozy nook in the window-seat, and commenced a 
 letter to Aunt Laura. At that moment the 
 door-bell rang. Frank sighed disconsolately as 
 ghe went to answer it, but her face brightened 
 when she saw who the visitor was. 
 
 " Dr. Tail ! O, I am glad to see yon! " 
 " Thanks. That sounds genuine. Somehow 
 I couldn't get past this house to-day. Some- 
 thing unseen kept urging me in. Is any body 
 
 Sick ? " 
 
 " Nobody," she laughed. " Mamma had a 
 sick headache this morning, but it has passed 
 away; the rest are well." 
 
 "It must have been some other attraction 
 then. How cozy you are here ! It is like com- 
 ing out of storm into sunshine." 
 
 He took off his wet overcoat and threw it 
 over a chair. 
 
 " I've had the dumps all day, have you I '' lie 
 asked. 
 
 "Xo. I've been too busy."
 
 32 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 "Doing what ?" 
 
 " O, talking to Miss Sarepta Smith, and get- 
 ting dinner." 
 
 " Ah ! talking to Miss Sarepta isn't such hard 
 work. She does the talking mostly herself I've 
 noticed. I've been busier than that, and yet I've 
 had the doldrums." 
 
 " I don't see why ; if I had your life to live, 
 I could be very happy, I think." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because I would have such a splendid op- 
 portunity to make the world better for my living 
 in it." 
 
 " Can't you do that in your own life ? " 
 
 " O, yes, in a small way ; but I want to do 
 great things." 
 
 "Don't try to be any different, or you will 
 spoil yourself. You are in just the right place 
 now. You are a sunbeam, Miss Farington ; 
 there is an atmosphere of health and happiness 
 about you which refreshes one unconsciously. 
 Your presence is restful when all is weary." 
 
 " There, don't add any thing to that. You've 
 said just the nicest thing you could. Nothing 
 could be a greater compliment." 
 
 Dr. Vail arose and walked up and down the
 
 THE RAINY DAY. 33 
 
 room abstractedly. Frank watched him, won- 
 dering a little ; that harassed look and pre- 
 occupied manner sat strangely upon him. He 
 was usually all life and animation. 
 
 " Miss Frank," he said, pausing suddenly and 
 looking down upon her from his fine height, 
 '" have you the patience to listen to a love story ?" 
 " If I had not I would not be a woman." 
 " Listen, then. Once upon a time, as the 
 children say, there was a poor young man, with 
 only a comparative degree of brains, who had 
 his own way to make in the world and was pos- 
 sessed of a natural ambition to be somebody. 
 "Well, it happened, through no fault of any 
 body's, that he was thrown by circumstances 
 constantly in the society of a very fair and love- 
 ly young lady. The young man, never having 
 been blest with a sister, came to regard this lady 
 with a brotherly affection. lie paid her many 
 small attentions, trifles light as air to him, until 
 suddenly he discovered, to his utter dismay and 
 confusion, that for this sounding brass she had 
 given him pure gold, that is, her heart. Now 
 the question is. What shall my friend do? Shall 
 he marry this lady, knowing that the only 
 love he has to bestow upon her is such as
 
 34 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 he would feel for his own sister, or shall he 
 leave her to eret over it as best she can. "Which 
 
 O 
 
 is the most honorable course, which is the 
 noblest '( " 
 
 Sensitive Frank flushed a vivid crimson. Ah, 
 why had he come to her for advice in this mat- 
 ter? If it had been any one else, any other 
 man's love story, she would not have hesitated 
 to give it. Had Dr. Yail the gift of second 
 sight ? Did he know that weak Lily Sherwood 
 was not the only one who had given him her 
 heart ? 
 
 " Well, why are you so silent ? " he asked, light- 
 ly, with a glance at her glowing cheeks. 
 
 "Dr. Vail," said frank, in a hurried voice, 
 " why do you not go to some one who is wise 
 in such matters ? I have no experience, no 
 judgment." 
 
 " Excuse me, I think you have. I want your 
 judgment. Xo one else is wise enough." 
 
 " Marriage without love seems to me to be 
 never justifiable," she said, speaking slowly ; 
 " but there may be cases, your own heart and 
 conscience ought to be your best counselor in 
 this matter, Dr. Vail." 
 
 He looked at her in a surprised way.
 
 THE RAINY DAY. 35 
 
 " Did I say I was speaking of myself ? What 
 a coxcomb you must tluiik me ! What attrac- 
 tions have I for a lady of beauty and accom- 
 plishments ? " 
 
 She looked at him smiling. 
 
 '" lie was a choice young man and a goodly ; 
 from his shoulders and upward he was higher 
 than any of the people," she quoted, lightly. 
 
 The quick color flushed to his forehead and 
 he drew back chilled and stern. Nothing hurt 
 Dr. Vail like a compliment on his personal 
 appearance. 
 
 ki I beg your pardon," said Frank, hastily, 
 " the words were involuntary." 
 
 "' Never repeat them then. I am astonished 
 at myself for having told you this. It was the 
 last thing I thought of doing when I came in ; 
 but there is something about you which inspires 
 confidence, people give it unconsciously. Now 
 confess that you are disappointed in me, that 
 you consider me weak, vain, conceited, tri- 
 fling" 
 
 " That will do. You haven't hit it in any of 
 those adjectives, and you are not likely to. I 
 merely consider you a blunderer. I advise you 
 to do nothing hastily. Don't do a wrong thing
 
 36 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 for the sake of being honorable. Don't do an 
 ignoble thing thinking it is noble. And," she 
 added, softly, " if any man lack wisdom, let him 
 ask of God, who giveth liberally and upbraideth 
 not." 
 
 Dr. Yail arose to go. 
 
 " You have helped me,*Miss Frank," were his 
 parting words as he ran down the steps. 
 
 Frank watched him disappear in the fog and 
 mist. The fog and inist seemed to be settling 
 over her whole life. 
 
 " Was it for this I stayed in Crescent ? " she 
 asked herself, as she listened to the ceaseless 
 moaning of the wind and the dreary patter of the 
 rain. Was it because she had tried to serve God 
 acceptably that he had laid this heavy cross upon 
 her? Did he always deal thus with his loving, 
 watchful servants, or had she made a mistake 2
 
 HAPPINESS. 37 
 
 IV. 
 
 HAPPINESS. 
 
 "Be still, sad heart, and cease refining; 
 Behind the clouds is the sun still shining." 
 
 FRANK closed the street door wearily and 
 went in. The sitting-room looked cold and 
 cheerless in the gray light of the storm. The 
 somber day was weeping itself away into an 
 early dusk. 
 
 " It is a disappointing world," sighed Frank, 
 as she leaned upon the window-seat and looked 
 out into the dismal street. It was only a mo- 
 ment, the next she roused herself with a laugh. 
 
 " There, Frank Farington, don't be so faint- 
 hearted ! the sun is shining somewhere. You 
 must look for some one with a heavier burden 
 than your own." 
 
 From her mother's room came the sound of 
 Miss Sarepta's incessant chatter. They did not 
 need her there. Crossing the hall, she tapped 
 at the gtudy door. Her father was walking up 
 and down the room with long strides. He
 
 38 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 looked around with a pleased smile at the bright 
 face in the door- way. 
 
 " You look weary, papa. What can I do for 
 you ? " she asked. 
 
 "Nothing, unless you feel like singing." 
 ' Well, I do. Come out of your den." 
 He followed her into the sitting-room, watch- 
 ing her with a lightening face as she straight- 
 ened the room, brightened the fire, and drew up 
 the rocking-chair for him. Then, seating her- 
 self at the piano, without any prelude she sang, 
 in her sweet, cultivated voice : 
 
 " When the mists have rolled in splendor, 
 
 From the beauty of the hills, 
 And the sunshine warm and tender 
 
 Breaks in beauty o'er the liills, 
 We can read love's shining letter 
 
 In the rainbow of the spray; 
 We shall know each other better, 
 
 "When the mists have cleared away." 
 
 Miss Monroe and Mamie, coming in together, 
 stopped in the hall an instant to listen. Ma- 
 mie's hand was upon the knob, but the teacher 
 stopped her with a gesture. There was an eager 
 light in the great brown eyes that the girl had 
 never seen there before.
 
 FlAPPINESS. 39 
 
 " Why, I did not know you were so fond of 
 music ! " she said, wouderingly. 
 
 " Such singing is not to be heard every day," 
 said the lady, holding her breath as the beautiful 
 voice sang on, 
 
 " We shall know as we are known, 
 
 Never more to walk alone ; 
 In ihe dawning of the morning, 
 
 When the mists have cleared away." 
 
 " Come in," said Mamie, impatiently, as the 
 last notes died away. She did not know what 
 a glimpse of paradise she was opening to the 
 weary, homesick girl. The cheerful room, the 
 bright fire, the green foliage, the singing bird 
 in the window, and the delightful music. Frank 
 arose with her bright smile of welcome. 
 
 ' Yon told me to do her a kindness, and the 
 kindest thing I could think of was to bring her 
 home," whispered Mamie in her sister's ear, as 
 Miss Monroe turned to speak to her father, and 
 the quiet " Thank you, dear," was reward 
 enough. 
 
 " O, I forgot to tell you," said Dr. Faring- 
 ton, suddenly, " I invited the Rev. Mr. Milburn, 
 of the Congregational Church, here this even- 
 ing ; there he is now," as the door-bell rang.
 
 40 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 Miss Monroe shrank nervously ; she had a 
 sensitive dread of meeting strangers. Frank 
 observed it, and wished her father had not in- 
 vited Mr. Milburn that evening. The young 
 minister entered, greeting them all in his easy, 
 happy way. He possessed one of those genial, 
 sunny natures which diffuse the light of their 
 own gladness into the very atmosphere in which 
 they move. 
 
 " How delightfully cozy you are here ! " he 
 said. " You can scarcely know how it is storm- 
 ing outside." 
 
 " I'm sure I know," said Mamie in her pert, 
 saucy manner, tossing the rain-drops from her 
 curls as she spoke. " It's been a wretched day. 
 I've had the blues awfully." 
 
 " Ah, that is a bad habit, Miss Mamie." 
 
 " Habit ! I consider it a disease." 
 
 " It is, nevertheless, a habit, and a dangerous 
 one," said Dr. Farington. "It is very easy to 
 cultivate the habit of being unhappy." 
 
 " Call it a disease, though, if you will ; there 
 is an excellent remedy which we all have in our 
 possession, if we only apply it," said Mr. Mi) 
 burn. 
 
 "What?" asked Mamie.
 
 HAPPINESS. 41 
 
 " The good old-fashioned one, ' Look for the 
 sunshine ; ' it's a sure cure." 
 
 " Is it not, sometimes, impossible to find the 
 sunshine ? " asked Miss Monroe, quietly fixing 
 her earnest brown eyes upon him. 
 
 " I think not, if we look persistently enough. 
 It is all about us ; it must touch even the dark- 
 est life somewhere. The trouble is, we catch 
 the shadow and let the sunshine go. There is 
 such a thing as shutting up the windows of the 
 soul and drawing the curtains down." 
 
 " From which error may the good Lord de- 
 liver us?" said Dr. Farington, fervently. 
 
 " Then you consider it possible to be happy 
 in spite of circumstances ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " I do, indeed. "Why, there is a living illus- 
 tration of the theory here in our own village. 
 An old lady who has not, to outward appear- 
 ance, a single circumstance to make her life 
 enjoyable, and is yet one of the happiest persons 
 I have ever seen. I mean Miss Sarepta Smith." 
 
 " Miss Sarepta ! " exclaimed Mamie. " Why, 
 she is the greatest gossip and the biggest tat- 
 tler" 
 
 " Gently, my daughter," interrupted Dr. Far- 
 ington, laying his finger upon the thoughtless lip.
 
 42 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " A love of gossip," pursued Mr. Milburn, 
 "is Miss Sarepta's weakness. Perfection is im- 
 possible to these poor human natures of ours ; 
 the very loveliest has some deformity ; it is a 
 deplorable fact, that the defect is usually on the 
 surface and the beauty underneath. So that 
 we, in our shortsightedness, judge of a charac- 
 ter by its imperfections, never thinking how 
 fair a jewel the ugly crust may hide. That is 
 one of the ways in which we lose so much sun- 
 shine. Now this old lady is really one of the 
 little ones of the kingdom. She simply takes 
 God at his word, and, consequently, her life is 
 all full of the sweetness of her child-like trust. 
 My boarding-place being directly opposite her 
 little cottage I see a good deal of her. I have 
 seen her poor, sick, helpless sometimes, and 
 alone in the world with no one of her kin to 
 minister to her old age ; but I have never seen 
 her unhappy. She always reminds me of the 
 text, ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace 
 whose mind is stayed on thee.' " 
 
 " You are right," said Dr. Farington, rising. 
 " Miss Sarepta has been a member of my Church 
 for many years, and her strong faith has helped 
 me over many of my hard places. And now,
 
 HAPPINESS. 43 
 
 while you young people are discussing her vir- 
 tues, 1 must ask you to excuse me, that I may 
 harness my horse and take her home, for she 
 says she cannot stay all night." 
 
 There was a general laugh as he went out. 
 
 "I hope you do not think I was talking for 
 Miss Sarepta's benefit," said Mr. Milburn. "I 
 had no idea she was in the house." 
 
 " Sho has a correspondingly good opinion of 
 you, Mr. Milburn," said Frank, mischievously. 
 " If you will excuse me a moment I will see 
 her off." 
 
 When Frank returned she found Miss Mon- 
 roe and Mr. Milbnrn engaged in an animated 
 conversation. The lady's cheeks were softly 
 flushed, and her eyes unusually bright. 
 
 "I did not know Miss Monroe was so pretty," 
 said Mamie to Frank when they were alone. 
 
 " Doesn't it pay to bring smiles to sorrowful 
 faces ? " asked Frank, smoothing the beautiful 
 hair away from her sister's forehead. 
 
 " I believe you'd like to make the whole 
 world happy. There comes "Warren. What a 
 pest he is ! " 
 
 Warren came in with a slow, swaggering step, 
 tossing his hat in the corner.
 
 44 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 "I say, Sis, who is v ^re?" he asked, laying 
 his hand roughly on Pick's shoulder. She did 
 not reply, but stood still, looking into his face 
 with a wistful gaze. Warren was only seven- 
 teen, but his boyish face was thin and haggard, 
 and his eyes were bloodshot. Only a few years 
 ago he had been a beautiful child. He was fair, 
 like Mamie, with the same blue eyes and curl- 
 ing hair, but the innocent look was gone. Sin 
 had left deep, ugly traces upon Warren Faring- 
 ton. He was no longer pleasant to look upon. 
 
 " Come, Frank," he said, impatiently, growing 
 restless beneath her pure gaze; "give me some 
 supper by myself, that's a good girl ; I want to 
 go out." 
 
 " Don't go out to-night, Warren, please? 
 
 " Why not ? What the , I mean, what do 
 you want of me ? " 
 
 " I want my brother. Stay for me, War- 
 ren. " 
 
 His face softened a trifle. 
 
 " I'd do most any thing for you, Sis ; but I've 
 made an engagement to go out with some fel- 
 lows to-night, and I can't possibly there they 
 are this minute " as a buggy stopped at the 
 gate. " Ta-ta."
 
 HAPPINESS. 45 
 
 " What a mean boy he is ! He'll disgrace us 
 all yet," said Mamie, watching as he drove off. 
 Frank did not reply. Her heart was very hard 
 toward Warren to-night. 
 
 Late that night, after Mr. Milburn had taken 
 his departure, Frank and Miss Monroe sat alone 
 by the fire. 
 
 " It has been such a happy evening ! " said 
 the teacher, throwing herself back in her chair ; 
 u do you know, Miss Farington, it is the first 
 time I have been happy in five years." 
 
 " Come here often, then, and we'll keep you 
 happy." 
 
 " Thanks ! I suppose you consider me ex- 
 ceedingly morbid. Life is such a struggle ! " 
 
 " I know it ; every life is." 
 
 " Is it ? Yours looks like bliss to me." 
 
 Frank did not answer. She was thinking how 
 every heart knew its own bitterness. 
 
 " As for me, I seem to have been elected unto 
 misery," went on the teacher, with an accent of 
 bitterness in her voice. "When I was a year 
 old my mother died. Soon afterward my father 
 fell from a building and received an injury 
 which rendered him helpless for years. After 
 his death I was taken care of by a hard old aunt,
 
 46 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 who made my life wretched. My only brother 
 fell into evil ways, and is now a wanderer in the 
 earth. I had a lover, and God took him. I am 
 onlv twenty-four, but I have tasted all life's bit- 
 ter waters." 
 
 Frank looked wistfully into the girl's face. 
 The pretty flush had died out, and it was grow- 
 ing hard again. What could she say to comfort 
 this tried and tempted soul ? 
 
 " I know you would tell me to trust in God," 
 pursued the teacher, " but how can I do it \ He 
 has taken every thing. How can I love him ? 
 He has refused every prayer. That week, 
 when George Bertram lay sick, I prayed every 
 moment, with strong crying and tears. He ut- 
 terly refused to hear. Since then I have never 
 prayed." 
 
 " He that believeth shall not make haste." 
 The words came childishly. Frank was awed 
 into silence before this great sorrow. 
 
 Miss Monroe got up and walked to the win- 
 dow, looking out into the darkness. 
 
 " O God, save this soul from death ! " Frank 
 prayed, silently. 
 
 When the brown eyes turned toward her 
 again they were full of tears.
 
 HAPPDTESS. 47 
 
 "Do you know. Miss Farington, that verse, 
 as von repeated it just now, struck me with a 
 new sense. Can it be that I have been making 
 haste all these years I Can there have been any 
 good in these things after all I" 
 
 Frank arose and drew the weary girl in her 
 
 u My friend, we have the promise that all 
 things shall work together for good to His 
 people. God's promises never fail Can't you 
 be courageous ? " 
 
 ** Could you, if he had taken away all your 
 good things?" 
 
 U I don't know. I am very weak. I think 
 he has taken something I thought was very 
 good, but I am like a little child in God's hands. 
 I do not know what a good thing is. I have 
 not understanding enough." 
 
 "Do you think it is possible for me to be 
 happy I " 
 
 " Certainly. You are young yet Your story 
 isn't half told. Wait and see what the long 
 years are bringing to you." 
 
 They are bringing nothing but misery. I 
 was born under an evil star." 
 
 Xo, you were not; nobody ever was. Your
 
 48 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 world is too narrow, Miss Monroe; you must 
 get out of yourself. You must stop brooding 
 over these things ; if necessary, stop thinking." 
 
 "How can I do that?" 
 
 " It isn't half as hard as you imagine. When 
 you feel yourself growing morbid, go out and 
 play tag with the children. You have no idea 
 how the exercise will refresh you. Instead of 
 sitting alone in the twilight, go and find some 
 one to talk to. Crescent is full of young life. 
 Come up here ; you will always find a cordial 
 welcome. Now you are tired out, and I will 
 show you to your room." 
 
 It was two o'clock when Frank heard her 
 brother's shambling footstep coining up the 
 stairs.
 
 OlRCTMBTANCES. 4.9 
 
 V. 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 " love of God, so pure and strong, 
 
 Our weakness comprehending! 
 patience of the Infinite, 
 
 O'er fallen mortals bending! 
 
 jN LEWIS was walking home from school, 
 kicking aside the dead and sodden leaves, 
 in a very disagreeable frame of mind. In fact, 
 it was a day calculated to make any one feel 
 rather disagreeable. 
 
 " Ugly enough to disgust a saint," ejaculated 
 Fan, as the rough north wind swept off her fur 
 cap and loosened her dark braids ; but she was 
 no saint, this discontented little girl, with the 
 black eyes and scowling brows. Fan thought 
 she had had rather a hard life of it, and perhaps 
 she had ; motherless children usually do have, 
 however much they may be allowed to follow 
 the bent of their own inclinations. Ever since 
 she was two years old Fan had been left to 
 the caxe of servants. Her mother had closed 
 
 her blue eyes, and gone smilingly out on her 
 4
 
 50 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 journey, with no fear for her girls. They were 
 safe. She had committed them to the care 
 that reaches to the sparrow : it would deal very 
 tenderly with motherless little ones. But it 
 was well for that mother that the future had 
 been mercifully veiled from her poor human 
 eyes, or her feet might have faltered even at 
 the gates of the beautiful city. 
 
 Mrs. Lewis had been a woman of rare virtues 
 and accomplishments, cultured, refined, and 
 lovely in every sense of the word. People 
 were always wondering why her daughters were 
 so unlike her. How the children of such a 
 mother could be so totally devoid of those rare 
 and attractive qualities which had so distin- 
 guished her, was a mystery; but it was not so 
 strange after all when one considered the course 
 of training to which they had been subjected 
 during their early years. 
 
 The loss of his wife had so wrought upon 
 Dr. Lewis that his whole nature had been ap- 
 parently changed by it. He was submissive, he 
 said, but it was the submission of the stoic. 
 From a genial, bright-hearted, jovial, wide- 
 awake man, he had become cold, cynical, stern, 
 and hard. As a physician, he was thorough
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 51 
 
 and skillful, zealous and unremitting in his at- 
 tentions to his patients, honest and just in all 
 his dealings. In his religion he was firm and 
 steadfast, departing from no letter of the law ; 
 but the heart, the life, had gone out of it all. 
 
 To the black-eyed girls who were growing up 
 in his home he paid little regard. He saw to it 
 that they were comfortable, that their physical 
 and mental wants were attended to, and further 
 than that he simply neglected them. The fact 
 that they might have other wants, wants which 
 he had not supplied, had never presented itself 
 to his consideration until a strange and unlooked- 
 for circumstance brought him suddenly, as it 
 were, to his feet. The circumstance was that 
 of Howard Delano's coming to him in his bold, 
 lawless way, and requesting the hand of his old- 
 est daughter in marriage. If a mine had ex- 
 ploded at the doctor's feet he could not have 
 been more startled. He had been looking upon 
 Xel in the light of a school-girl in short dresses. 
 
 " Young man, are you crazy ? " he thundered. 
 " Do you realize that it is my daughter you are 
 asking for ? " 
 
 " I am fully aware of the enormity I have 
 committed," said the young man, pleasantly.
 
 52 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Then please to walk out of that door, and 
 never come in again until you have recovered 
 your senses." 
 
 The young man went out, bowing and smiling 
 in perfect good humor, and the irate father 
 sought his unhappy child. 
 
 " What does this mean, Nel ? I thought you 
 were a little girl," he said. 
 
 " Did you think I was always going to stay 
 little?" 
 
 " Is it possible that you are weak enough to 
 care for this young man ? " 
 
 " It is possible that I love him." 
 
 Dr. Lewis looked hard at his daughter. 
 Across the mist of years arose the dead moth- 
 er's face as it had beamed upon him in his early 
 youth, not altogether unlike this girl ; for though 
 she had been fair and lovely as a forest flower, 
 IS T el had now and then a sparkle of the eye, a 
 smile, a turn of the head, that recalled the dear 
 face beneath the willows. Something, perhaps 
 it was this vague resemblance to her mother, 
 seemed to plead with him for gentleness, so he 
 checked the harsh invectives that were trem- 
 bling upon his lips, and only said in a firm, con- 
 trolled voice,
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 53 
 
 " Let me hear no more of tins, Xel ; the man 
 who takes my daughter from my home must 
 have clean hands and a pure heart. When 
 Howard Delano can present these qualifications 
 it will be time enough for him to speak." 
 
 Cut from that hour Dr. Lewis turned his at- 
 tention to his children with a new and surpris- 
 ing earnestness. It was by no means pleasing 
 to them, this sudden, stern vigilance which he 
 exercised over them, scrutinizing every act with 
 unscrupulous eyes, and judging every misde- 
 meanor, however trifling, with merciless se- 
 verity. 
 
 To Fan it was particularly trying. Hitherto 
 she had been free and untrammeled as the wild 
 Link of the air. She had come and gone as she 
 pleased, and there had been no one to question. 
 This change in her father's management very 
 much affected her enjoyment. She grew rest- 
 ive, and chafed bitterly under the iron hand that 
 had been so suddenly laid upon her. 
 
 " I declare it's too bad," she muttered, discon- 
 solately, pulling the cap down over her fore- 
 head ; " I never have any fun any more. I 
 wish mother had lived ;" lifting her eyes to the 
 cold gray sky as she always did when she
 
 54 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 thought of her mother. " Pa's worse than a fit 
 of sickness lately. Growls if I poke the end of 
 my nose out of the house of an evening. Hal- 
 lo, what's this ? " 
 
 Two bits of red pasteboard lay at her feet. 
 She stooped and picked them up. 
 
 " Tickets to the masquerade, as sure as I live ! 
 What a streak of luck ! I'll go if I die for it ! " 
 
 The suggestion of the possibility of finding 
 and restoring the tickets to their owner did not 
 occur to this girl. She had found them ; they 
 were hers. How to utilize them was the only 
 question. 
 
 " I don't suppose ladies ever go alone to such 
 places," she soliloquized ; " but I've got brass 
 enough for any thing. I'll manage it somehow. 
 I guess providence must have put those tickets 
 in my way. Well, if there isn't Howard De- 
 lano sitting in that front window, big as life ! 
 The doctor is, doubtless, not at home. So this 
 is the way you amuse yourself during his ab- 
 sence, sister mine. Well, I have no objection 
 to listening to a bit of your edifying conversa- 
 tion, and if it should ever come in the way, I 
 might just give the doctor a hint that is, if 
 Miss Nel should put on airs, as she sometimes
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 55 
 
 does, it's well enough to Lave a weapon to lay 
 hold of, any way." 
 
 She opened the outside door softly and stole 
 into the library. 
 
 " I have no patience with you," Nel was say- 
 ing, in her quick, impatient voice ; " if you had 
 half the love for me which you profess it would 
 certainly prompt you to give up your bad 
 habits." 
 
 " My bad habits ! Nel, I am sick of hearing 
 that everlastingly dinged at me! What are my 
 bad habits, any way? Simply a little amuse- 
 ment, which all young men indulge in. If Dr. 
 Lewis and others of his stern creed see fit to 
 make mountains out of mole-hills I cannot help 
 it, though I do think they would be better em- 
 ployed in attending to their own misdoings. If 
 people correct their own faults they have enough 
 to do, I've found out, without undertaking to 
 correct those of others. Now, I have had 
 enough of this. You must choose between 
 your father and me, and at once." 
 
 " Very well," she said, coolly, " I have chosen. 
 My father cares enough for me to maintain his 
 principles and his manliness, which it seems you 
 do not."
 
 u SMALL THINGS. 
 
 "All right. Remember, it is your own 
 choice." 
 
 The street door closed with a bang. When 
 her sister carne into the light Fan saw that her 
 eyes were dull with pain, and her face white even 
 to the lips. The unkind words whicli had been 
 in the girl's mouth were not spoken. Some- 
 where Fan had a heart. 
 
 "I wonder if mother knows," she mused, 
 parting the curtains and looking out into the 
 moonless sky. " She cannot be happy if she 
 does. I'd never choose pa to any one in the 
 world, I know that ; he's too abominable. 
 Never mind, I'm going to the ball in spite of 
 him. ' The mighty gates of circumstance are 
 turned upon the smallest hinge.' It's a lucky 
 circumstance that threw those tickets in my 
 path any way. I wonder if God did have a 
 hand in it ? "
 
 A BIT OF FUN." 57 
 
 VI. 
 
 "A BIT OF FUN." 
 Be good, sweet child, and let who will be clever." 
 
 , I want you to come home with 
 me to-night." * 
 
 Mamie stood on the highest step of the public 
 school building, strapping her books together as 
 Fan Lewis came rushing out. 
 
 " O, I can't, Fan ! " 
 
 " Yes. you can ; there's your mother corning 
 out of Mrs. Myer's this minute. I'll ask her." 
 
 She dashed across the street and obtained 
 from Mrs. Farington a reluctant consent. 
 
 " Now, Mamie, we're in for a precious bit 
 of fun," chuckled Fan, as they went down 
 the street together. " Of course, you've heard 
 about the masquerade at the hall to-night ? 
 Well, we're going." 
 
 Mamie stopped and looked at her incrcdti- 
 lutisly. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked. 
 
 "What I say. I've never forgiven my father
 
 58 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 for not letting me go to the circus, and I mean 
 to have the satisfaction of this one escapade if I 
 never have another in my life." 
 
 Well, go on. What next ? " 
 
 " You think I can't do it, but you'll find out 
 that I've got brains and know how to use them. 
 Understand, in the first place, that Cousin Aman- 
 da Hewitt, from Philadelphia, is visiting us, and 
 she has brought a trunk full of the loveliest silks 
 and laces and jewelry. To-night pa is going to 
 take, her to a lecture over at Millerton. They 
 wont be back before eleven o'clock. As soon as 
 they have departed you and I will slip up into 
 Cousin Amanda's room and appropriate some 
 of her fineries, put on masks, and go to the 
 ball." 
 
 Mamie -clasped her hands together with dark- 
 ening eyes. 
 
 " It would be glorious fun ! Could we man- 
 age it, Fan ? " 
 
 " Nothing easier under the present circum- 
 stances. I've been studying over it for a week, 
 but I could not quite arrange it until providence 
 opened the way for me." 
 
 Mamie's fair brow contracted. She did not 
 quite relish these light allusions to sacred things
 
 "A BIT OF FUN." 59 
 
 which came so frequently from the careless lips 
 of her friend. 
 
 -What about Nel?" she asked, doubtfully. 
 " Wont she be at home ? " 
 
 " O, yes ; but she wouldn't dare tell on us if 
 she found it out ; but she will have company 
 most likely. She always does. We'll slip out 
 of the back door. Here we are. Now remem- 
 ber, inum's the word ; don't, for the world, let 
 pa suspect any thing ; he's always watching me. 
 Be as solemncholy as a funeral, or he'll be sure 
 to get something in his head." 
 
 Mamie followed her friend into the house, in 
 a flutter of excitement. The family were just 
 sitting down to their five o'clock dinner. Fan 
 seated her guest quietly. She was very quiet 
 all through the meal. 
 
 " Are you sick, Fan ? " asked her father, won- 
 dering at her unusual lack of spirits. 
 
 " Xo, sir ; but I'm tired out. That history 
 lesson almost used me up. It was soul-harrow- 
 ing." 
 
 " Humph ! Lessons don't usually harrow 
 your soul much. If you are tired I advise you 
 to go to bed early and get up bright in the 
 morning/'
 
 60 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " That's just what we spoke of doing, isn't it, 
 Mamie ? " 
 
 The quick color flooded Mamie's face and 
 brow. A falsehood did not come readily to her 
 lips. Dr. Lewis looked at her keenly. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to go with us to the 
 lecture ? Ill take both you girls if you wish 
 it." 
 
 " The saints preserve us ! " ejaculated Fan, 
 throwing up her hands ; " don't even speak of 
 such a thing. Subject, 'The Rise and Fall of 
 the Roman Empire,' is it not ? " 
 
 " The subject is ' European Travel ;' the speak- 
 er is both able and eloquent. I am not sure but 
 it would be of the greatest benefit to you." 
 
 " Thanks, pa. Your kindness is appreciated, 
 but I couldn't possibly keep awake," said Fan, 
 with a yawn. " Mamie can go if she wants to, 
 but I beg to be excused." 
 
 " O I would not go without you," said 
 Mamie. 
 
 " Very well, then, if you are going to stay at 
 home, behave yourselves. Amanda, I will be 
 ready in an hour." 
 
 Miss Hewitt assented gracefully. She was a 
 tall, stately lady. Her manners were elegant,
 
 "A BIT OF Fux.'' 61 
 
 her dress superb, and she spoke and moved like 
 a queen. Mamie thought she had never seen 
 any one so magnificent. 
 
 " I would as soon think of borrowing the 
 queen's royal robes as one of her dresses," she 
 whispered to Fan, as they went up stairs. 
 
 " Pshaw ! what do I care for her ? " 
 
 Reverence was an element that was entirely 
 lacking in Fan. 
 
 At half past six Dr. Lewis and his niece drove 
 off. Fan, who had been lying on a sofa in an 
 attitude of deep dejection, when the last sound 
 of the carriage wheels had died away, sprang 
 up, and catching Mamie in her arms, waltzed 
 her round and round the room until she was 
 dizzy. 
 
 " Good-bye to yon, Dr. Lewis and Miss Mag- 
 nificence. May the fates grant you a happy 
 evening, and aid us in our attempts to beguile 
 the weary hours of your absence ! Come ahead, 
 Mamie." 
 
 Mamie followed the flying footsteps with a 
 sinking heart. The plan did not look half so 
 delightful now that the time of action had 
 cos ne. Fan opened the door of her cousin's 
 room softly.
 
 62 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 It was still and dark. She drew down the 
 shades and lit a lamp. 
 
 " There ! the trunk's locked ! Never mind, 
 here is the key." 
 
 " O, Fan, don't ! " said Mamie, catching her 
 hand as she proceeded to unlock the trunk. 
 " Let's rig ourselves out in something else. No 
 one will know us." 
 
 " What a goose you are, 'Mamie Farington ! 
 I'm not going like a dowdy. See here ! " She 
 drew from the trunk an elegant pearl-gray silk 
 and shook out the silvery folds. Mamie clasped 
 her hands delightedly. She loved all pretty 
 things. "See here!" went on Fan, unfolding 
 another. It was a skirt of pale blue satin, 
 trimmed with creamy lace. " There ! you will 
 look like a princess in this, Mamie. Now, Til 
 fix you." 
 
 Mamie stood still as if spell-bound, while the 
 deft fingers braided her hair and arrayed her in 
 the blue satin. "When she had finished, she 
 clapped her hands and dragged the bewildered 
 girl in front of the mirror. 
 
 " There, look at yourself." 
 
 Mamie rubbed her eyes. Was it herself, the 
 tall, elegant figure robed in lustrous folds of
 
 " A BIT OF FUN." 63 
 
 bine satin, with rich lace falling away from her 
 white arms and throat, the thick, soft hair 
 braided in a coronet over her forehead, and the 
 wild-rose bloom in her cheeks. 
 
 " You are superb," said Fan, fastening a 
 pearl necklace about the pretty throat, "you 
 don't need a mask. No one would recognize 
 you. Now sit down and wait for me." 
 
 Mamie obeyed, half stupefied as she watched 
 her friend robing herself in the gray silk and 
 fastening her collar with a diamond brooch. 
 
 " I don't begin to look as nice as you," said 
 Fan, pulling at her dark locks discontentedly; 
 " this dress is a mile to big for me. Yours fits 
 to perfection, but it don't matter. Now for our 
 masks, and then we'll go." 
 
 Mamie shrank nervously as Fan arranged 
 the pink domino over her face. " Fan, I'm 
 afraid. Suppose Miss Hewitt should find it 
 out ! " 
 
 " She'd slay us with the glance of her eye ; 
 but she's not going to find it out. "We wont 
 dare to stay more that an hour, though." 
 
 Mamie shivered as she went out into the 
 damp, starless night. It was very dark. 
 
 " I believe it's going to rain," she said.
 
 64 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Nonsense ! Hold up your train. Don't for 
 mercy's sake let that lace get soiled." 
 
 Mamie stood still. 
 
 " Fan, let's go back. I dare not do it." 
 
 " "Well, if I'd had any idea you were such a 
 coward, I'd never have asked you. You can go 
 back if you want to. I'm going to the ball." 
 
 Mamie walked on in silence. Her teeth were 
 chattering. What if her father should see her ? 
 or her mother, or Frank ? A verse which she 
 had learned when she was a very little child 
 came flashing back to her, " Thou, God, seest 
 me." That pure, holy eye that never slept was 
 upon her. How unlovely she must look to him 
 in the rich apparel which she had stolen ! 
 
 They had reached the hall and were going 
 up the steps. In the dressing-room Mamie's 
 courage utterly failed. 
 
 " I cannot go in, Fan ! "What will people 
 think of us corning alone ? It is enough of it- 
 self to excite suspicion. Suppose some one 
 should inquire into it and find us out ? " 
 
 " Suppose the cow should jump over the 
 moon ! " said Fan, contemptuously. " I never 
 saw such a goose ! Nobody is going to see 
 through our masks."
 
 "A BIT OF FUN. 65 
 
 "But they take them off in a little while. 
 What then ? " 
 
 " Then we'll go home. We're not going to 
 take our's off," and she dragged the miserable 
 girl into the glare and heat of the ball-room. 
 Once inside the walls, Mamie forgot her misgiv- 
 ings. It was enchanted land. The lights, the 
 music, the costumes, and the dancing wrought 
 upon her unsophisticated senses like a spelL 
 Her vanity was flattered, too, for, in the tall, 
 beautiful lady in blue satin and white lace, 
 there was no suggestion of little Mamie Faring- 
 ton. So there were many admiring glances 
 directed at her, and the little heart began to 
 swell with foolish pride. 
 
 "Have you any idea who the lady in blue 
 is ? " asked one young man of another as they 
 strolled through the hall together. 
 
 " Xo ; but I'd give something to find out. 
 There is a familiarity about her movements 
 that puzzles me. Suppose we try a nearer 
 view." 
 
 In another instant Fan felt Mamie's hand 
 clutching her sleeve. 
 
 " There's Warren, Fan ! come, let's go home 
 
 this minute. He's got his eye on me." 
 5
 
 66 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Well, what of it ? He can't see through 
 your mask." 
 
 " Xo ; but he'll know it's me. I believe he 
 does now. Do come." 
 
 " We can't go while he is watching us. Be- 
 sides, we promised to dance one set ; after that 
 we'll go." 
 
 But in the excitement of the dance Mamie 
 again forgot her fears. 
 
 An hour passed. People were beginning to 
 unmask. The fact recalled the girls to their 
 senses, Fan needed no urging this time. 
 
 " Have you any idea what time it is ? " she 
 whispered. " I'm afraid it is late. I forgot 
 what I was about. Here, we can slip out now. 
 }\o one is noticing." Tliey threw their wraps 
 about them and hurried down the stairs and out 
 into the street. 
 
 u It is raining ! ' exclaimed Mamie, in dis- 
 may. 
 
 " Sure enough ! and we have nothing but 
 these little shawls ! How foolish ! We'll be 
 drenched." 
 
 " Can't we go in somewhere ? " 
 
 " No ; its late. We must get home before 
 pa does. I believe there's some one following
 
 "A BIT OF FUN." 67 
 
 us!" Mamie listened. There were footsteps 
 behind them. 
 
 What shdU we do! " she whispered, wretch- 
 edly. 
 
 Who's afraid of them ? " said Fan, boldly; 
 " they don't scare me any. Let's give them a 
 chase." 
 
 The two girls started on a breathless run, 
 their pursuers keeping close behind, until they 
 reached Dr. Lewis' gate. 
 
 " Good-night, young ladies ! " called out War- 
 ren's voice as they ran up the steps. " Fll in- 
 form yonr father how you've spent the evening, 
 Miss Mary. He will be interested to know." 
 
 You're welcome to do so," retorted Mamie; 
 " and I'll notify him of a circumstance or two 
 in which you are concerned." 
 
 Fan was standing still as if petrified. 
 
 T::creV a light in the office, they are home ! " 
 she gasped. 
 
 Mamie sank down upon the wet steps, weak 
 and trembling. The sight aroused her friend. 
 
 You are ruining that dress," she said, in a 
 miserable voice. 
 
 " What shall we do \ " asked Mamie, bursting 
 into tears.
 
 68 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " I have the key of the side door, it is just 
 possible we can get up stairs without meeting 
 any one. Any way, we've got to try it. Step 
 very softly." 
 
 She opened the door noiselessly, and they had 
 almost gained the staircase when the parlor door 
 opened and two figures came into the hall. 
 
 " It's Nel and Bert Wentworth ! " groaned 
 Fan. 
 
 There was no escaping now. Nel's quick, 
 startled cry brought Dr. Lewis from his office 
 and Miss Hewitt from her room. Fan started 
 to run up stairs, but her father caught her in 
 his strong grasp, while Mamie, overcome with 
 shame and confusion, sank into a chair and cov- 
 ered her face with her hands. Fan rallied all 
 her forces. 
 
 " It's only a little fun," she said, trying to 
 
 " It's the kind of fun I intend to understand 
 the meaning of," said the doctor, in his sternest 
 tones, still holding his daughter in a grasp of 
 iron. " Where did you come from ? where have 
 you been ? " 
 
 " We came from the dining-room," said Fan, 
 boldly. " We have been only masquerading,
 
 "A BIT OF FUN." 69 
 
 for a little fun ; you se'- n to think we have com- 
 mitted the unpardonab. . cin." 
 
 " Haven't you been out of the house ? " 
 
 " No, sir. Not a step." 
 
 " How is it, then, that your clothing is so 
 wet?" 
 
 The color rushed to her face, and the bold, 
 black eyes fell. 
 
 " I we " 
 
 " That will do. It is a deplorable fact that 
 my daughter's word is not to be relied upon, I 
 see. Perhaps Dr. Farington has been more 
 successful in training up his. Mamie, will you 
 explain the matter ? " 
 
 Mamie caught Fan's threatening glance as 
 she raised her head. 
 
 " Tell him you went to call on Carrie Ma- 
 son," whispered something in her ear. 
 
 " Tell him the truth," said a bolder voice. 
 
 Mamie hesitated. If she told a falsehood, Dr. 
 Lewis might be induced to overlook the rest. 
 If she told the truth, his wrath would know no 
 bounds. There was a quick, hard struggle, then 
 the jewel of this girl's character blazed out. 
 
 " We have been to the masquerade ball," she 
 paid, in a firm voice.
 
 70 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 Where ? " 
 
 " At Masonic Hall." 
 
 " You two children, alone ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 He gazed at her, scarcely seeming to compre- 
 hend. A new thought seemed to strike him. 
 
 " Where did you get your costumes ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " We took them out of Miss Hewitt's trunk." 
 
 Nel came forward with a little cry of dis- 
 may. 
 
 " Look, cousin," she said, turning the child 
 around under the chandelier, "behold your 
 dress ! " 
 
 The soft folds of the blue satin were stained 
 and bedraggled, and the costly lace streaked 
 with mud and stains of blue where the color 
 had run out of the dress. 
 
 The lady's face flushed deeply, but she made 
 no reply. Nel turned to her sister angrily. 
 
 " Fan Lewis, you ought to be hung ! See, 
 Cousin Amanda, your new pearl-gray silk ! The 
 train is ruined, and the overskirt nearly so ! " 
 
 u I should not have been so careless as to 
 leave my trunk unlocked," said Miss Hewitt, in 
 her cool, well-controlled voice, as with a quiet
 
 "A BIT OF FUN. 71 
 
 " Good-night," she swept past them, up the 
 stairs. 
 
 " She's proud as Lucif er, I don't care if her 
 dresses are spoiled," muttered Fan, under her 
 breath. 
 
 " Your evening's entertainment, young ladies, 
 will cost me in the neighborhood of one hun- 
 dred and fifty dollars," said Dr. Lewis. " You 
 may retire to your rooms. I will speak with 
 you on the subject in the morning." 
 
 AVhat passed between them in that interview 
 was never known to any except themselves. 
 But the result was that Fan was banished to a 
 distant boarding-school, a proceeding against 
 which she rebelled grievously. Mamie's repent- 
 ance was so deep and sincere that it would have 
 carried her to her father with a full confession 
 of the whole affair, had not Dr. Lewis strictly 
 forbidden the mention of it to him. 
 
 " Your father and I were classmates in col- 
 lege," he said. "We were stanch friends in 
 those days ; they used to call us David and Jon- 
 athan. As we shielded each other then, so will 
 I shield him now. He has trouble enough. 
 He must be spared this." 
 
 And thus it happened, that the minister and
 
 72 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 his wife never knew what it was that had 
 sobered their young daughter so suddenly that 
 winter, and changed her from a romping, laugh- 
 ing child into a demure and thoughtful young 
 maiden, a trifle too grave, it sometimes seemed, 
 for her years. 
 
 Warren kept his own counsel. Perhaps 
 Mamie's threat had the effect of silencing him, 
 or it might have been some latent principle of 
 honor which prompted him to spare his sister. 
 At any rate, he never alluded to the matter 
 again, and, as the time passed away, Mamie 
 ceased to fear him.
 
 TKAMPLING OVEE PEAKLS. 73 
 
 YII. 
 
 TRAMPLING OVER PEARLS. 
 
 "You cannot dream yourself into a character, you must 
 hammer and forge yourself into one." 
 
 long winter wore away at last. Frank 
 _L thought it was the longest she had ever 
 known. Spring, when it came, found her a trifle 
 paler, a trifle older. 
 
 " Sweeter," her father thought, as he watched 
 her bending over her flower-beds one fragrant 
 afternoon in May. 
 
 " I am afraid we are selfish in keeping you 
 here, my daughter," he said, leaning over the 
 piazza railing. "This is a narrow world for 
 you." 
 
 "Narrow, papa? Perhaps so, but I some- 
 times wonder if what looks narrow to us is not, 
 after all, the widest sphere. It seems to me 
 that I have lived more in this one winter than 
 in all the rest of my life." 
 
 "Is it so? I want you to live a full life. 
 So many people go all through their journey
 
 74 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 missing the good which they have only to reach 
 out their hands to take. Don't trample down 
 pearls in your path, my child." 
 
 Frank looked at her father thoughtfully. 
 Was she trampling on pearls? It was a new 
 thought. 
 
 " How do you know, papa ? It is so easy to 
 make mistakes." 
 
 " It is far too easy. We are so blinded by our 
 own weaknesses. One thing I have besought for 
 my children from their birth, ' Lord, give them 
 strength of character ! ' and I pray to be made 
 willing that he should build you up through 
 whatever discipline he sees fit." 
 
 Frank's head bent lower over her flowers. 
 Was it because that prayer was being answered 
 that such hard things were happening to her ? 
 Was it a part of the discipline that Dr. Vail 
 must be taken out of her life after he had be- 
 come such a necessity ? 
 
 " Papa, why do some hearts need so much dis- 
 cipline and others so little ? " 
 
 "There, my dear, that's a question old as 
 time. Don't try to pick the ' white lilies ' of 
 God's plans to pieces. Only be sure of one 
 thing, God cannot make a mistake. He is a
 
 TRAMPLING OYEB PEAELS. 75 
 
 master musician and knows just what keys to 
 touch in every nature in order to bring out the 
 greatest harmonies, and he only strikes a minor 
 chord when it is necessary to the beauty of the 
 strain. They are never all minors, be sure of 
 that. !N"o life is all darkness. In every thing 
 you learn, learn to be practical." 
 
 The minister went back to his study, and his 
 daughter fastened her hat and strolled down the 
 path. Dr. Vail was driving past. Catching 
 sight of her he reined in his horse. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Miss Frank," lifting his 
 hat ; " Jo you want to do something for some- 
 body?" 
 
 u Yes, if somebody has need of my assist- 
 ance." 
 
 " Go home with me, then, and spend the 
 evening with Lily Sherwood. She needs you." 
 
 Frank hesitated. "I am not ready," she 
 said. 
 
 " I will wait for you. I am in no hurry." 
 
 She shivered a little as she went in to make 
 her preparations. It was two months since she 
 had spoken with Dr. Vail. Did he know what 
 a hard thing he had asked of her? Dropping 
 her head in her hands for an instant, she prayed,
 
 76 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " O God, take this unkindness out of my heart 
 and give me love for Lily Sherwood ! " 
 
 "I am going out of town to visit a patient, 
 and, if you do not object, I will take you with 
 me," said the doctor, as they drove off. 
 
 "I shall enjoy it exceedingly. Was there 
 ever any thing lovelier than this day ? " 
 
 " It is very beautiful," he said, abstractedly. 
 
 Frank leaned back in her seat and looked at 
 him. He had grown old and thoughtful since the 
 rainy day when he had told her his love story. 
 There was a new gravity in his eyes and a stern 
 set to the lips that had been so flexible and 
 smiling in the days when she had first known him. 
 
 " How brave he is," thought Frank. 
 
 " Dr. Vail," she said, suddenly, " what doe* 
 Lily want of me ? Is she ill ? " 
 
 " She is feeling wretchedly to-day." 
 
 "People say she is in a decline," question- 
 ingly. 
 
 " I do not think so. It seems to me a mere 
 giving way of physical strength. She will never 
 be quite well, I think. A sort of invalid all her 
 life." 
 
 They rode on awhile in silence. 
 
 " All her life." Frank was thinking. "Weak
 
 TRAMPLING OVER PEARLS. 77 
 
 Lily Sherwood, at her best estate, would have 
 been a helpless burden on a man like Dr. Yail. 
 She was one of those vain, idle, selfish young 
 girls whom no possible discipline can mature 
 into womanly women. Did God require this 
 sacrifice of this man, or was it a sacrifice of his 
 own making ? Perhaps Dr. Vail was trampling 
 over pearls. 
 
 The doctor was thinking, " If it had pleased 
 God to grant me the inestimable gift of this 
 woman's heart, my life would have been crowned. 
 Ah, well ! one must not expect too much of this 
 world. She is too precious a treasure to be 
 committed to my careless keeping." 
 
 " Life is a problem, isn't it ? " he said, sudden- 
 ly breaking the silence. 
 
 Frank started. She had fallen into one of 
 her reveries. 
 
 "Dr. Yail, why does God permit people to 
 make mistakes?" she asked. 
 
 " Perhaps he does not. "With our human con- 
 ceptions we are incapable of judging, and what 
 looks to us like a mistake may be the right thing 
 after all. I sometimes question if it is not a 
 part of the divine plan that some lives should be 
 tangled and twisted."
 
 78 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " O no, human lives are too precious and 
 beautiful to be distorted. The fault must be 
 ours. We are careless students. We rush at 
 the conclusion before we have half worked out 
 the problem." 
 
 " Perhaps so, but I have known men to spend 
 days and days of hard thinking and prayer 
 over two courses of action which suddenly 
 opened before them, and after all their de- 
 liberation to choose what looked like the wrong 
 thing." 
 
 " I wonder if I did that," said Frank, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Why, last fall there were two ways open to 
 me, to go or to stay. After much consideration 
 and anxious thought I stayed. I wonder if it 
 was the wrong thing to do ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor, hastily, in a low, stern 
 tone. " If you had gone " He paused with a 
 sudden consciousness of what he was saying. 
 
 Frank's eyes filled with tears of sharp pain. 
 
 " I can go yet," she began ; but he interrupted 
 her eagerly. 
 
 " No, you must not. My remark was thought- 
 less, selfish, and inexcusable. Crescent is better
 
 TRAMPLING OVEK PEARLS. 79 
 
 to-day for the influence which you have exerted 
 during the winter. Crescent needs you." 
 
 But Frank was chilled and silent. " Selfish " 
 was the word that kept repeating itself. He 
 would have been happier, then, if she had gone. 
 There was only one way of accounting for it. 
 He regretted having made her his confidante in 
 the matter of Lily Sherwood. 
 
 " He has lost faith in me," she thought. " If 
 I had gone away last fall he would never have 
 committed the folly of trusting me." 
 
 When Frank spoke again it was in a voice of 
 the coolest indifference. 
 
 " What a blunderer I am ! " sighed the doctor.
 
 80 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 LILT SHERWOOD. 
 
 " What is it makes my feet so tired and sore ? 
 
 Is it for running swift to do His will ; 
 Or from a long, hard chase for glittering drops 
 
 That I my cherished treasure-cup may fill?" 
 
 MRS. SHERWOOD was standing upon the 
 piazza when they drove up. She hastened 
 down to meet Frank gladly. 
 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure, my dear. I 
 have been wishing for you all day. A sort of 
 longing, I guess, for something happy." 
 
 "How is Lily?" asked Frank, smiling into 
 the mother's troubled face. 
 
 " Miserable ; the poor child suffers. You will 
 find her in her room, Frank. Perhaps you will 
 be able to rouse her out of her depression." 
 
 Frank sighed a little as she ran up the richly- 
 carpeted stairs and tapped at Lily's door. The 
 voice which bade her enter was weak and petu- 
 lant, yet Frank thought as she opened the door 
 that she had never looked upon a more charm- 
 ing picture. It was a delightful room, with
 
 LILY SHERWOOD. 81 
 
 windows reaching to the floor, lace curtains, 
 furniture of black walnut and marble, lovely 
 pictures on the walls, brackets holding vases of 
 rare flowers, and a carpet of delicate green 
 strewn with pale blossoms, like the woods in 
 spring time. 
 
 The young girl, lying upon the lounge, was 
 very beautiful. The exquisite face struck Frank 
 with a sense of newness this afternoon. The 
 soft hazel eyes, the golden hair, and the skin pure 
 as the petals of a white rose. Perhaps it was 
 not such a sacrifice after all. Beauty is a rare 
 gift. It might satisfy even Dr. Yail. 
 
 " Frank Farington, is it you ? " said the girl, 
 raising her head from the pillow. " I am more 
 than glad to see you. I was just thinking about 
 you. How did you happen to drop in just at 
 this moment ? " 
 
 " Dr. Vail brought me." 
 
 " Ah, that's it ; the poor, devoted fellow ! I 
 happened to mention in his hearing that I had 
 not seen you in a long time, and I suppose he 
 remembered it. He never leaves a wish of mine 
 imgratiiied if it is possible for him to gratify it. 
 I suppose, of course, you have heard of our en- 
 gagement ? All Crescent seems to know of it." 
 6
 
 82 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " I had heard a rumor of it," said Frank, 
 flushing a little at her friend's want of delicacy. 
 
 " I thought perhaps Arthur had told you him- 
 self, you are such friends ; it is no secret. How 
 do you like my ring?" She held out a little 
 white hand with a diamond flashing upon the 
 engagement finger. 
 
 " It is beautiful." 
 
 " Do you think so ? I would have preferred 
 a cluster, but I didn^t tell Arthur I wasn't sat- 
 isfied. Do you think he is handsome, Frank?" 
 
 " He is very fine-looking." 
 
 "I fell in love with him at first sight," said 
 Lily, complacently. " It's funny, too, for I was 
 out of all patience with papa for having him 
 here to board before I saw him. I thought it 
 would be perfectly awful to have a doctor for- 
 ever running in and out ; but papa would have 
 him because his father once did him some great 
 favor, saved his life, I believe, and he never 
 forgets such things. He said I'd like Dr. 
 Vail well enough after I'd seen him, but I 
 guess he had no idea how it would turn out, 
 though." 
 
 " I am sorry to see you looking so pale," said 
 Frank, attempting to change the subject.
 
 LILY SHERWOOD. 83 
 
 " Pale, am I ? I feel horrid to-day. Frank, 
 am I losing my good looks ? " 
 
 " Xonsense ! don't be fanciful. You are as 
 lovely as a calla lily." 
 
 "Thanks. I am perfectly miserable. I've 
 got the blues up to my eyes to-day." 
 
 " Lily Sherwood, what have you to be miser- 
 able about 2 It seems to me you are loaded 
 down with good things." 
 
 " I don't know what they are. It is awfully 
 stupid here. Don't you hate Crescent ? " 
 
 " Why should I hate it ? As cozy and happy 
 a little town as can be found beneath the sky, 
 nestling among the hills, peaceful and sweet as 
 a haven of rest. If we are not satisfied it must 
 be the fault of our restless hearts. My Uncle 
 Ralph used to say, ' If you don't like the place 
 you live in, go to work and make it better.' " 
 
 " That is very easy to say, but I'd like to see 
 any one make a good place of this. It will never 
 be me. Will Cameron is coming home, they 
 say. Do you remember him, Frank ? " 
 
 " I should think I did," she replied, laughing. 
 " What a young scapegrace he used to be ! Why 
 I have laughed until I cried at some of his capers. 
 He use to keep the whole school in a titter."
 
 84 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Yes, he was lively enough in those days. I 
 don't believe you'd know him now. Do you 
 know why he went away ? " 
 
 " I suppose it was because he got a good posi- 
 tion elsewhere.' 1 
 
 " Nonsense ! He went for love of me, Frank. 
 I was engaged to him when Dr. Yail came. 
 Of course I had to break it off, and broke "Will's 
 heart, too, I guess. He said he could not live 
 here any longer." 
 
 Frank felt the indignant blood rising in her 
 cheeks. 
 
 '" Does Dr. Vail know of it ? " she asked. 
 
 " No, and I wouldn't have him find it out 
 for worlds. He is so honorable; he would 
 think I ought to keep faith with "Will, how- 
 ever great the sacrifice to himself might be. 
 He's worth a dozen such fellows as "Will Cam- 
 eron." 
 
 " You loved "Will, I suppose, when you prom- 
 ised to marry him ? " said Frank, dryly. 
 
 " O, yes, well enough. He is pleasant and 
 entertaining, but Dr. Vail is so vastly superior, 
 and he is a rising man. Pa says he will be rich 
 some day. Poor Will was only a clerk." 
 
 Frank looked long and sadly at the beautiful
 
 LILY SHERWOOD. 85 
 
 face. It was of no use to argue, no use to rea- 
 son, no use to speak hard, indignant words. 
 Gradually the feeling of anger and contempt 
 died away, and in its place came a great wave of 
 pity for the sick, spoiled child. Perhaps it was 
 not her fault that she was heartless. 
 
 " Well, I suppose I must dress and go down 
 to supper," said Lily, rising wearily ; " Arthur 
 would be very unhappy if I should not appear. 
 Do you know, Frank, I used to think that he 
 did not care for me ? I had an idea that he was 
 in love with some one else. I was perfectly 
 wretched for weeks, and at last I told mamma 
 about it. She said I was mistaken ; it was only 
 his humility which made him appear so reticent. 
 He loved me, but he thought he was not worthy 
 of me. So it happened do you want to hear 
 about it ? " 
 
 Frank did not reply. She had an innate 
 consciousness that Dr. Vail would not have 
 wished her to hear this story ; but Lily did not 
 wait. 
 
 "Well, it happened that one day he found 
 me crying in the library. He asked what was 
 the matter, and I told him that I was afraid he 
 did not care for me as I did for him. He did
 
 86 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 not make any reply. He just turned and walked 
 out of the room and out of the house. I knew 
 it was his great humility which kept him silent, 
 so I waited. I had done my part, and I knew 
 he would do his. It was two months before he 
 did speak though, and then he asked me to be 
 his wife." 
 
 The supper bell, ringing at that moment, sum- 
 moned them down stairs. 
 
 Dr. Tail and Max Sherwood were talking to- 
 gether in the dining-room when the girls en- 
 tered. Max turned with his rare, sweet smile 
 as he beheld Frank. If there was a person in 
 the world in whom his soul delighted it was 
 Frank Farington. 
 
 Dr. Vail, watching them, saw the warm light 
 steal into Frank's soft, dark eyes. She had told 
 her mother once that Max Sherwood was to her 
 like the dear brother that Warren ought to have 
 been. 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood's table was always a delightful 
 place. They were cheerful, pleasant, entertain- 
 ing people, full of life and animation, and seem- 
 ing to enjoy every enjoyable thing which came 
 in their way. There was always plenty of small 
 talk, enlivened now and then with bits of gos-
 
 LILY SHERWOOD. 87 
 
 sip, but nothing unkind, bitter, or sarcastic was 
 over permitted. There was such an atmosphere 
 of good cheer and kindly feeling in this home 
 circle that it was easy to forget all unpleasant- 
 ness. Even Lily, for the time, threw aside her 
 pettish complaints, and was languidly interested 
 in the conversation. 
 
 Dr. Vail was very quiet to-night. The 
 quietness remained upon him during all the 
 evening. 
 
 " What ails you, Arthur ? " asked Lily, seat- 
 ing herself beside him, and laying her hand 
 upon his knee ; " Are you studying a case ? " 
 
 " 1 am studying a case, and a very perplexing 
 one," he said, clasping the small hand with a 
 grave smile. 
 
 At nine o'clock Frank said she must go. Max 
 arose eagerly to accompany her. 
 
 ' I am going over to see Mrs. Ross to-night. 
 My carriage is at the door if you prefer to ride," 
 said Dr. Vail. 
 
 Frank caught the disappointment in Max's 
 eyes. " He has something to say to me," she 
 thought. 
 
 " Thank you ; I believe I will walk," she 
 said.
 
 88 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 u You see you are not to be trusted with a 
 young lady, my friend," laughed Max ; " your 
 head is too full of that perplexing case." 
 
 The doctor smiled gravely as he watched them 
 depart. The case was very perplexing.
 
 INCOMPLETENESS. 89 
 
 IX. 
 
 INCOMPLETENESS. 
 
 " "What I crave most, perchance, them wilt behold, 
 As we from hands unmeet keep pearls and gold." 
 
 THEY were a very silent pair as they went 
 out into the night. Frank was gazing up 
 into the stars with that intense, mysterious long- 
 ing which comes to us all as we look into sum- 
 mer night skies. 
 
 The angel which is imprisoned in every heart, 
 however great may be the trammels of sin, will 
 now and then beat against the bars of its prison- 
 house with a homesick yearning for the dear 
 country of its nativity, " the land that is very 
 far off." 
 
 All this girl's impassioned soul was crying out 
 to-night for the wings of a dove. O to be up, 
 beyond the jars and the discords, beyond the 
 earth-fogs and mists, to the pure air that sweeps 
 through the golden streets. 
 
 The threads which her young hands were try- 
 ing to weave into a beautiful pattern were all
 
 90 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 tangled and snapped out of their place to-night, 
 and she felt that she would gladly take the un- 
 finished web, all imperfect as it was, and lay it 
 at the Master's feet. He knew she had tried. 
 
 They had reached the parsonage gate before 
 she thought of her companion again. Then his 
 unusual silence presented itself to her considera- 
 tion. 
 
 "What spell has been laid on your lips to- 
 night ? " she asked, lightly. 
 
 " I am like Dr. Yail, ' studying a case.' " 
 
 " Indeed ! Can I help you ? " 
 
 He looked at her with a curious smile. 
 
 " Yon are the only one who can," he said. 
 
 Frank stood a moment with her hand upon 
 the gate-latch. 
 
 '* Will you come in ? " she asked, at length. 
 
 " ~No ; I might as well out with it ; I never 
 could be sentimental. Frank, will you marry 
 me?" 
 
 She drew back and looked at him in the star- 
 light. His face was very grave. She put her 
 hand over her mouth to hide the involuntary 
 smile. If her own brother had asked her the 
 question she would not have been more aston- 
 ished or more amused.
 
 INCOMPLETENESS. 91 
 
 " Well," he said, quietly, but with a tremble 
 in his voice, " why don't you answer ? " 
 
 " I do not think you know what you are ask- 
 ing." 
 
 " Don't I ? Hasn't it been in my thoughts 
 night and day for months, until I am weary 
 of thinking ? To-night I resolved to put an end 
 to it. ' He either fears his fate too much or his 
 deserts too small ' you know. Will you answer 
 me if you please ? You must have known that 
 I loved you ; it cannot be a new thought to 
 you." 
 
 " I had not the least idea of it. I thought of 
 you as I did of Warren." 
 
 " You cannot mean that you have not under- 
 stood me all these months ?" 
 
 " I do mean it. I thought you looked upon 
 me as an older sister." 
 
 " Frank, are yon any thing of a flirt ? " 
 
 "What is your definition of that detestable 
 word?" 
 
 " O, a person who takes a peculiarly inno- 
 cent delight in seeing another make a fool of 
 himself." 
 
 " Mine is, one who has a heartless disregard 
 for the fine&t feeling of the human heart. It is
 
 92 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 a sin upon which I cannot look with the slight- 
 est degree of allowance." 
 
 " Then, if you haven't been flirting with me, 
 what have you been doing ? " 
 
 " I thought I was trying to lead you to a bet- 
 ter life. Are you a Christian, Max ? " 
 
 ' Excuse me. We are speaking now of mat- 
 rimony, not religion." 
 
 " They are inseparable in this case. I cannot 
 marry any one who is not a Christian." 
 
 " So, then, I must give you up ? " 
 
 " If you give up my Saviour, certainly. 1 " 
 
 " But if the time should ever come, if I should 
 be led to renounce the world, the flesh, and the 
 devil, will you still refuse to be my wife ? " 
 
 " O, Max, Max ! don't let that influence you ! 
 If the wonderful love of Christ does not draw 
 you, don't be led by any worldly consideration 
 to give yourself to him. If you do, you will 
 make the mistake of your life." 
 
 " But you have not answered me yet. Will 
 you ever care for me as I wish ?" 
 
 " I cannot remember the time when I did not 
 love you, Max ever since we were little chil- 
 dren ; but it is not as you wish." 
 
 " Then I am to lose my all ? "
 
 INCOMPLETENESS. 93 
 
 " No ; you are only to lose an ideal. You 
 have not yet arrived at man's estate. With ma- 
 turer years will come maturer judgment. The 
 day will come when you will be glad that I re- 
 fused to marry you." 
 
 " No, it will not, Frank ; you must not make 
 this decision final. Take time to think. A year, 
 if you wish." 
 
 Frank hesitated. 
 
 " Well, I will take a year to think over it and 
 pray over it. If I find that my feelings change 
 toward you I will let you know it at once. In 
 the meantime you had better avoid me and find 
 something else to occupy your thoughts. The 
 world has a great deal for a young man like 
 you." 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 He raised her hand to his lips, lifted his hat, 
 turned, and was gone. 
 
 Frank looked after him with an impatient 
 sigh. 
 
 " How twisted and tangled every thing is ! " 
 she said, irritably. " God seems fairly to mock 
 his children sometimes. When the whole heart 
 is sick with longing for some good thing, he not 
 only withholds it utterly, but makes the craving
 
 94 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 more bitter by thrusting upon it something which 
 it cannot accept. I asked bread ; has he not of- 
 fered me a stone ? " 
 
 The first sound which came to her as she 
 opened the door was that of angry voices in hot 
 dispute. 
 
 " I declare,TVarren Farington, you're the mean- 
 est boy I ever saw. You're just contemptible. 
 I'm ashamed that you are my brother." 
 
 Mamie paused an instant as her sister en- 
 tered. Her eyes were flashing and her cheeks 
 on fire. 
 
 ""Why, Mamie,'' said Frank, sadly. 
 
 " I don't care ; any young man that will in- 
 sult and browbeat his own mother isn't fit to 
 live ! " 
 
 And the indignant girl dashed out of the 
 room. 
 
 " Did you do that, "Warren ? " asked Frank. 
 
 ' ; I believe I called her an old woman, and 
 told her to mind her own business ; and that's 
 what she'd better do. As for my being tied to 
 her apron strings, it's played out." 
 
 He was turning to follow Mamie, but his sis- 
 ter laid her hand upon his arm. 
 
 "Wait a minute," she said, controlling her
 
 INCOMPLETENESS. 95 
 
 temper by a strong effort ; " do you think a 
 gentleman would speak in that way to his 
 mother ? " 
 
 " I don't pretend to be a gentleman." 
 
 " You pretend to be a man, do you not ? Do 
 you consider that manner of speech manly ?" 
 
 "Xow, see here, Frank, you may just as well 
 make up your mind, in the first place, that gab 
 don't go down with me. I hear enough from 
 the old gentleman. !N'o use preaching to me ; 
 I'm past it. " 
 
 " O, Warren, is it so ? My only brother, 
 that I have been praying so earnestly for ? " 
 
 " So has father been praying. You see how 
 much good it does. I wish you'd stop praying 
 and let me have a good time. I'm going to the 
 devil as fast as I can, any way." 
 
 He spoke carelessly, but he was not prepared 
 for the indignant fire that flashed from his sis- 
 ter's clear eyes. 
 
 " Warren, I am ashamed of you ! " she said, 
 lifting her hand with a commanding gesture as 
 he put his hand upon the door-knob ; " jnst stop 
 a moment and think who you are, and what you 
 are doing. If any one in the world is accountable 
 for the deeds done in the body, you certainly
 
 96 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 are. The only son of parents whose whole life 
 is purity, you came into the world on the wings of 
 prayer and have been reared in the very atmos- 
 phere of piety. Why, you ought to be an hon- 
 or to your country. The ten talents have been 
 committed to you, and you might become a 
 power in the world. Instead of that you are 
 wasting your youth, your health, your strength, 
 your intellect, and your manhood. For what ? 
 Strong drink ! A pretty exchange for a young 
 life and an immortal soul, is it not ? " 
 
 " Sis, you've missed your calling," said the 
 boy, with a yawn ; " nature doubtless intended 
 you for the rostrum. You might make your 
 fortune at temperance. But do, please, try 
 your knack on some other fellow. I'm too old. 
 And I never was a spoon. Good-night, sister 
 mine ; pleasant dreams." And with a bland 
 smile he bowed himself out. 
 
 Frank went up stairs wearily and threw her- 
 self upon her bed with a rush of bitter tears. 
 She was too heart-sick even to pray ; but, ah ! 
 if she could have looked into her brother's 
 heart at that moment, how quickly her mourn- 
 ing would have been turned into rejoicing ! 
 For his thoughtless soul was stirred to ils depths.
 
 1NCOMPT.ETENES8- 97 
 
 His sister's words were nothing new to him; 
 lie had heard the same repeatedly from his 
 father, his mother, his teachers ; but one thought 
 had gone home. " You might become a power 
 in the world," she had said. If there was one 
 thing upon which Warren Farington prided 
 himself, it was a certain strength of will and de- 
 termination which had always characterized him. 
 When he was five years old an aged minister 
 had said of him, 
 
 " That boy will be either a very good man, or 
 a very bad one ; there is no middle course for 
 him. His character is too decided." 
 
 Warren's mother had never forgotten the 
 words. Now that his feet had strayed in the 
 wrong direction, her heart was filled with bitter- 
 ness because of them. 
 
 Warren could not sleep that night. Usually, 
 in such cases, he lit a cigar ; but now, he threw 
 open the window and leaned out into the silent, 
 breathless night. The sky was grandly beauti- 
 ful, and the stars looked down upon him with 
 their pure, far-away gaze, pitying, it seemed 
 to the erring boy. It was all true that his 
 sister had said. He was wasting his life. It 
 
 *vas a glorious thing, this fresh budding young 
 
 7
 
 98 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 manhood which he was sacrificing. It had never 
 looked so solemn, so responsible, as it looked be- 
 neath the calm starlight of this night. Was it 
 possible for him to regain what he had lost? 
 He had gone a great way in sin ; he shuddered 
 as he thought how far. But perhaps there 
 was hope for him. He might yet become a 
 power in the world for good. Bowing his head 
 upon the window-sill, he whispered the prayer 
 which his gentle mother had taught him years 
 ago when she was correcting him for telling a 
 falsehood : 
 
 " O God, wash me from mine iniquity, and 
 cleanse me from my sin." 
 
 At the same moment the father and mother, 
 praying together in the solitude of the study for 
 their wayward boy, felt themselves suddenly up- 
 borne and comforted. 
 
 "And the Lord strengthened the souls of his 
 servants."
 
 IN THE SHADOW. 90 
 
 
 
 X. 
 
 IN THE SHADOW. 
 
 "No tone from tlie organ can swell on the breeze, 
 Till the organist's fingers press down tlie keys." 
 
 A S the summer advanced Frank felt that her 
 _/"L strength was failing. In August the skies 
 were brass, the sunlight a glare, and the earth a 
 great, hot prison-house. She grew weary, list- 
 less, and dispirited. Her heart was full of 
 heaviness. All the waters of life had turned 
 into bitterness. 
 
 " The whole head is sick, and the whole heart 
 faint," she said, aloud, in her impatience one hot, 
 sultry morning. 
 
 Her mother, hearing the words, laid her work 
 aside and went out to where she sat upon the 
 piazza railing, pulling the blossoms from the 
 madeira vines. 
 
 " Has papa told you about his letter from 
 Aunt Laura ? " she asked. 
 
 " No," was tlie listless answer. 
 
 " They are going to the White Mountains and
 
 100 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 want to take you with them. Louise and her 
 husband are going, too ; they will be in New 
 York next week, and they have written for you 
 to join them there. It will be a delightful trip 
 for you." 
 
 Frank started from her drooping posture. 
 Had God answered an unspoken prayer? All 
 these long days and weeks she had been pining 
 for the mountains. 
 
 " O, mother ! " she began ; then catching the 
 pained look in the dear eyes, she stopped. The 
 anxious, overburdened little mother had come to 
 lean very heavily upon this brave, bright young 
 daughter of late. Always timid and distrustful 
 of her own power, she found great help in this 
 strong, self-reliant spirit. To send Frank away 
 was to send the brightness out of the house. 
 
 " I cannot be so selfish," thought Frank. It 
 was as if the prison-door had opened and shut 
 again. Mamie, who lay swinging in the ham- 
 mock at the other end of the piazza, lifted 
 her head with a yawn. " I wish I could go," 
 she said. 
 
 The light of a sudden resolution broke over 
 the sister's face. 
 
 " That is just the thing," she said, cheerfully,
 
 IN THE SHADOW. 101 
 
 " Mamie needs a change, and of course it will 
 make no difference to them. I will get her 
 ready, and papa can take her to New York." 
 
 Mrs. Faringtou's loving eye discerned the 
 self-sacrifice and hesitated. 
 
 " 1 think you are the one to go," she said. 
 
 " No, I am the one to stay." 
 
 Mamie sprang up and caught Frank in her 
 arms. 
 
 " O it is too good, too good to be true ! " she 
 cried, gleefully. " There comes papa, I must go 
 and tell him," and she went bounding down the 
 path to meet him. 
 
 "I haven't seen her do that this summer," 
 said the mother, watching with pleased eyes. 
 
 " She has been out of spirits and not quite 
 well. It will do her a world of good." 
 
 Mrs. Farington smoothed the soft hair away 
 from Frank's forehead and kissed her. 
 
 " I thank God every day for you, my bless- 
 ing," she said. 
 
 The pale cheeks flushed with pleasure. 
 
 " O, mamma, how your words refresh me ! Am 
 I a blessing to you ? " 
 
 " And to every one of us," said her father, 
 coming up with Mamie's hand clasped in his.
 
 102 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " And now, if you are to get this young lady 
 ready to go to the White Mountains, you will 
 have to be about it, they are to be in New York 
 on "Wednesday." 
 
 Frank went to work with alacrity, as if new 
 life had been infused into her. " Even Christ 
 pleased not himself," was the pleasant refrain 
 which was singing itself in her heart. It was 
 easy to make a sacrifice for him. 
 
 It was a busy day, and at night she was com- 
 pelled by sheer weariness to lay her head upon 
 her pillow at an early hour. But her mother's 
 words, " My blessing," soothed her like a strain 
 of music, and she fell asleep in perfect peace. 
 
 After Mamie went the house grew very still. 
 Indeed, an unusual quiet seemed in these mid- 
 summer days to have fallen over the whole 
 village. 
 
 Warren had gone away on a strolling expedi- 
 tion with some of his companions ; Lily Sher- 
 wood was at the sea-shore, and Max traveling on 
 business for his father. 
 
 Dr. Vail allowed himself no respite from the 
 cares and duties of his rapidly-increasing prac- 
 tice, but he had grown strangely reticent and 
 almost stern. Miss Monroe was spending the
 
 IN THE SHADOW. 103 
 
 long vacation at her boarding-place, it being the 
 only home she knew. She was much of the 
 time at the parsonage, and Frank rejoiced great- 
 ly to see the bitterness gradually stealing out of 
 her brown eyes and her pale face growing rosy 
 and bright. 
 
 " I feel as if I were coming into the light," 
 she said one evening as they were walking home 
 together from a visit at Dr. Lewis'. " I think 
 God sent me to you. You can never know how 
 you have cheered me, comforted me, lifted me 
 up. How you have " 
 
 "Good-evening, ladies," said Mr. Milburn's 
 voice beliind them. 
 
 Frank noticed how the pretty color flushed 
 her friend's cheek and how her eyes drooped 
 shyly as the young minister walked along beside 
 them, talking in his brisk, cheery tones. 
 
 She stood watching them with a quiet smile, 
 as they left her at the parsonage gate and strolled 
 on in the gathering twilight. 
 
 " I am not the only one who has ' lifted you 
 up,' my friend, if my suspicions are correct. 
 O, Edith, Edith ! what a happy circumstance it 
 was that sent you to us that rainy night ! " 
 
 She did not go in, but threw herself in the
 
 104 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 hammock with a little sigh of weariness. The 
 night was sultry and intensely warm. She lay 
 idly swinging to and fro, dreamily watching the 
 stars through the tree tops, until voices from 
 the study arrested her. 
 
 " Have I given you no light, then ? " 
 
 " None at all, sir. There is no hope for me. 
 God has rejected me." 
 
 Frank's heart gave a sudden bound. The 
 voice was Howard Delano's. 
 
 " Let us pray," said the minister. 
 
 O that prayer ! Frank thought the angels in 
 heaven must have wept over it, it was so full of 
 strong crying and tears. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, then the young 
 man spoke, 
 
 " You might as well give me up, Dr. Faring- 
 ton, I am not worth praying for. I am a lost 
 soul." 
 
 " He came to seek and save that which was 
 lost. My son, I will never give up beseeching 
 God for you until you are safe in his arms." 
 Frank heard the study door open. They were 
 coming into the hall. All the eager soul cried 
 out within her, " O, God, give me some word 
 to speak to this youug man."
 
 IN THE SHADOW. 105 
 
 Howard Delano, coming out upon the piazza, 
 found her pacing back and forth with a restless 
 light in her eyes. She put out her hand to ar- 
 rest him as he was passing. 
 
 " Will you stop a moment, please, Mr. Delano. 
 I heard you say just now that you were a lost 
 soul. Are you sure you are not refusing to be 
 saved ? " 
 
 "I have sinned beyond God's forgiveness," 
 he said, hopelessly. 
 
 She looked at him steadily for a moment. 
 
 "Don't you think you have sinned beyond 
 my father's forgiveness ? " she asked. " You 
 have led his only son into evil ways, encouraged 
 him by precept and example and your great in- 
 fluence over him until he is almost a wreck ; yet 
 you do not fear to come to my father for help, 
 and he has not turned you away, has he ? " 
 
 " No, no ! his whole soul seems to yearn over 
 me." 
 
 " Then you esteem poor human nature more 
 capable of forgiving than the infinite heart of 
 God, who so loved the world that he gave his 
 only-begotten Son a ransom for it." 
 
 "Ah, but you have no idea how far I have 
 gone, into what depths of sin."
 
 106 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Do not go any farther, then. If my father, 
 in his weakness, is longing for your salvation, 
 do you suppose the Saviour, who died for you, 
 is turning his eyes away with inditference ? " 
 
 He looked at her lixedly for a moment as 
 if drinking in her words, then a sudden light 
 flashed in his eyes, and he grasped her hand. 
 
 " Even unto the uttermost," he said, slowly. 
 " Thank you, Miss Farington. You have opened 
 the prison-doors to me."
 
 LOOKING FOR TIIE SUNSHLNE. 107 
 
 XL 
 
 LOOKING FOR THE SUNSHINE. 
 
 " question not the cause of good or ill, 
 For querulous distrust brings danger near; 
 
 But Imsh thy heart, and lose thy restless will 
 la that all -perfect Jove that casts out fear." 
 
 HOWARD DELANO'S repentance was deep, 
 sincere, and abiding. 
 
 " I have given my whole self to God," he 
 told Frank on Sunday evening, as he walked 
 with her from church. "All the powers of my 
 being are his. I want to keep back nothing. 
 Miss Frank, if I ever do any thing for his glory 
 you will have cause for rejoicing, for I was a 
 desperate man when I left your father's study 
 that night. I felt that I was lost beyond all 
 recovery. When you spoke to me it seemed as 
 if God had sent his angel. I had looked upon 
 all pure-minded Christian young ladies as, in a 
 sense, my enemies. That one should manifest 
 any interest in me was as surprising as delight- 
 ful. I felt at that moment that I was deserving 
 only of your contempt, but, instead, you seemed
 
 108 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 to be fairly beseeching God for my soul. Ton 
 have no idea what an intensity of earnestness 
 there was in your voice when you spoke to me. 
 If ever, by the grace of God, I am saved, your 
 crown will not be starless." 
 
 And Frank's heart was filled with thanksgiv- 
 ing such as it had never known before. The 
 
 O 
 
 next day she roused herself out of the depres- 
 sion which was beginning to settle upon her 
 again, and went to see Nel. She found her ly- 
 ing upon a sofa in the parlor, her eyes heavy 
 and swollen with weeping. 
 
 " What are you doing here in the dark ? Get 
 your hat and come with me. I am going to see 
 Miss Sarepta." 
 
 " O don't go ; it's too hot." 
 
 u No it isn't. The weather has changed. It's 
 delightful." 
 
 "Well, I don't care if it is. Nothing is de- 
 
 7 O 
 
 lightful to me any more. I will never be happy 
 again. Life is a fearful burden." 
 
 " Have you tried Mr. Milburn's remedy ? " 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Look for the sunshine." 
 
 " Humph ! there is no sunshine for me." 
 
 "Nonsense; it is all around you. You are
 
 LOOKING Kou THE SUNSHINE. 109 
 
 shutting up the windows of your soul, I'm 
 afraid. Now you are not going to lie here cul- 
 tivating your morbid misery this beautiful after- 
 noon." 
 
 She brought the dainty walking-hat from the 
 hall and fastened it over Nel's dark hair, and 
 finally succeeded in coaxing her out of the 
 house. 
 
 Nel walked slowly, with a listless, despondent 
 air. 
 
 " She will be happier before I leave her," 
 thought Frank, a glow of warmth stealing into 
 her own heavy heart. 
 
 Miss Sarepta was sitting in her shady porch 
 with the ever-ready knitting in her hands. 
 
 " Well, now, I am right glad to see you," she 
 said, rising as the young ladies came in at the 
 gate. " Come right in and take off your hats." 
 
 "No, we are going to sit here," said Frank, 
 dropping upon the door-step. 
 
 " Here are some canned strawberries, mamma 
 sent you." 
 
 " Thank you, dear ; your ma never forgets 
 me. What's the matter with you, Miss Nellie ? 
 Are you sick? You look pale as a sheet." 
 
 "No."
 
 110 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " You liaint got no cough, have you ? Your 
 ma had the consumption." 
 
 " Don't have any fears for me, Miss Sarepta," 
 said Nel, with an accent of bitterness ; " I'll live 
 to be a hundred." 
 
 "Don't set too many hopes on a long life, 
 child. We don't none of us know what's before 
 us, and it stands us all in hand to be prepared. 
 You look very pimpin'. Sage tea will build 
 you up ; did you ever try it ? " 
 
 " I don't think it would reach my case," said 
 Nel, with a weary smile. 
 
 " No ? that's because you liaint no faith in it. 
 Gals nowadays don't believe in the good old- 
 fashioned remedies. They think they must go 
 galvantin' off to the sea-shore or some such out- 
 landish place, when, if they'd stay home and 
 take a good dose of boneset tea, it would do 'em 
 a heap more good. There's Lily Sherwood ; 
 they say she's gone to Long Branch. She'd 
 been better off to-day if she had married Will 
 Cameron, as she'd ought to. She was engaged to 
 him, they say, and he's a nice boy, Willie is. 
 lie thought the world of that little chit, too, 
 though I never could see why." 
 
 "Nor I," said Nel. "If there's a shallow-
 
 LOOKING FOR THE SUNS HIM-:. Ill 
 
 hearted creature under tlie sun, it's Lily Sher- 
 wood. What possible motive could have in- 
 duced a man like Dr. Yail to make such a fool 
 of himself I cannot imagine." 
 
 "Folks say it's money he's after," said Miss 
 Sarepta ; " but 'taint no such thing. I guess I 
 know Dr. Vail, and a more honorable, noble- 
 minded, Christian young man never lived. I'm 
 afraid Lily's going to play the fool with him, 
 though, she is so fickle. They say Willie Cam- 
 eron's down there to Long Branch now. Bert 
 Went worth, he writ home to his sister as how 
 he'd seen 'em paradin' the beach together, seem- 
 in' to be thicker than ever. It's a shame the 
 way that girl carries on." 
 
 " Don't you get lonesome living here all by 
 yourself?" asked Frank. 
 
 u Why no, child, I don't think of such a 
 thing. There's somebody dropping in most all 
 the time." 
 
 " You're always happy, are you not ? " 
 
 "Well, pretty much always. Why shouldn't 
 I be happy? I've got a roof over my head, 
 (though it does leak a little,) and I've got pretty 
 good health most of the time, only when I get 
 spells of rheumatiz ; and I've got good friends,
 
 112 >SMALL THINGS. 
 
 and, above all, a kind Father in heaven to take 
 care of me. What under the sun have / got to 
 fret about ? " 
 
 Nel's black eyes were fixed eagerly upon the 
 calm, contented face. 
 
 "Didn't you ever fret about, any thing?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " O yes ; when I was a girl I fretted about 
 every thing. But, law, what good did it do ? 
 There's nothin', to my mind, so foolish as to get 
 into the habit of makin' yourself miserable. 
 Why, if I begun there'd be no end to it. I'd 
 say to myself, 'Here you be, Sarepta Smith, a 
 poor old woman without a chick or child in the 
 world, and old age and helplessness cornin' on ; 
 what's ever goin' to become of you ? It's dread- 
 ful to think of ! ' And I'd soon begin to grow 
 thin, and mauger, and sick, jest of pure frettin'. 
 But, good land ! when sich thoughts comes 
 creepin' in I jist say, ' Get thee behind me, Sa- 
 tan ! ' for I know it's nothin' but his evil voice. 
 He loves to make God's people unhappy. 
 There's nothin' worries him so much as to see 
 a poor soul clingin' with both hands to God and 
 drawin' light and comfort and joy from trustin' 
 in him."
 
 LOOKING FOR THE SUNSHINE. 113 
 
 " But," said Nel, with some irritation in her 
 voice, "don't you think God wants his people 
 to be unhappy ? " 
 
 The old lady took off her spectacles and 
 looked at her in bewilderment. This was a 
 doctrine which her sunny nature refused to 
 comprehend. 
 
 " Why, child, what are you drivin' at ? " 
 
 " Well, if he doesn't, why does he put upon 
 us more than we can bear ? " 
 
 " He don't. He never does. It is our weak 
 hearts that haint willin' to accept the troubles 
 that he sees to be necessary for us, jist as neces- 
 sary as the rain is to spring flowers. Why, 
 where'd be the rich harvests if there wasn't no 
 dark days, if the summer was all one glare of 
 sunshine? And jist so, what would become of our 
 souls if there wasn't never nothin' sent to 'em 
 but a broad glare of happiness ? Why, I believe 
 they'd dry up and wither within us, just as the 
 corn does under the continual blaze of the sun. 
 Jist let God alone, Miss Kel. He knows what 
 lie's a-doin', and all we've got to do is jist to 
 trust him, and keep our eyes bright, lookin' be- 
 yond the storms." 
 
 " But I'm not ready to look beyond the
 
 114 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 storms yet. I'm young, and it is a hard 
 thought that there's no happiness except in the 
 grave." 
 
 " So it is, dear, and God don't ask any one of 
 us to think so until he gets ready to take us to 
 himself, and then he don't ask us to look down 
 into the grave, but 'way lip to the beautiful 
 home he's prepared for us. But while we're 
 livin' here he expects us to make the very best 
 we can of it. Why, this is a real bright world. 
 There's lots and lots of happiness wastin' right 
 before your eyes, child. Now, instead of fret- 
 tin' your life out because God don't give you 
 something you want, you jist go out into his 
 world and find something to do for him, and 
 it's as like as not he'll give you something that 
 will more than make up for what he's refused. 
 There's plenty to do : sick folks to be ministered 
 to ; sorrowin' souls to be comforted ; tempted, 
 stragglin' souls to be encouraged and cheered; 
 little children to be smiled upon. Why, if you 
 was to tackle some of them jobs, you'd find 
 yourself growin' happier every day of your life ; 
 for you know 
 
 " ' The Master's work may make weary feet, 
 But it leaves the spirit glad.' "
 
 LOOKING FOR THE SUNSHINE. 115 
 
 " I wish we all had jour brave spirit, Miss 
 Sarepta," said Frank, smiling. 
 
 " Brave ! I don't see nothin' brave about it. 
 It jist looks like common sense to me. "Why, 
 if God wanted his people to be miserable he 
 made a grand mistake in makin' this beautiful 
 world for us to live in. He must have forgot 
 himself completely when he hung out the blue 
 sky and the rainbow and the summer clouds 
 and the apple blossoms and the June roses and 
 the thousand and thousands of other things so de- 
 lightful that the very sight of 'em lifts the spirit 
 right up. It seems to me you young folks, with 
 your mercies crowding all around you, ought to 
 go through life singin'. If there's any thing I 
 love to see, it's a young face with the light of a 
 hnppy heart shining through it. There's Mr. 
 Milbnrn, he's always bright as a May mornin'. 
 Did yon know he was engaged to Edith Monroe, 
 one of the teachers in the public school ? " 
 
 " Is that so ! " exclaimed Nel ; " I never 
 dreamed of such a thing." 
 
 " Yes ; Mrs. Lee told me last night. She said 
 she'd suspected the wind was in that quarter for 
 some time, and yesterday he up and told her. 
 I hope you girls wont never let on that I said
 
 116 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 any thing about it, for there's no use of the 
 whole neighborhood's knowin' it right away. 
 It's queer what wives such men will choose ! 
 Now I had picked him out for Frankie." 
 
 Frank laughed. 
 
 " God is wiser than you, Miss Sarepta. I am 
 delighted. Edith Monroe is just the wife for 
 Mr. Milburn. They are admirably adapted to 
 each other. He will take all the bitterness out 
 of her life, and she will tone down that over- 
 flowing brightness of his into a steady, strong 
 cheerfulness, which the world has great need of." 
 
 Nel's face was very gloomy as they walked 
 home. 
 
 " Every body has good things but me," she 
 said. " Frank, why does God refuse me the 
 one thing I want ? I cannot be happy without 
 it. I have tried to follow your advice, but it is 
 impossible. I cannot keep from thinking." 
 
 " Are you sure that God has refused you your 
 good thing ? " 
 
 " O yes ! Father never gives up his preju- 
 dices." 
 
 " I think he will give up this one. Howard 
 Delano is a new man, ]STel. He has come out of 
 darkness into light."
 
 LOOKING FOK TIIK St NSIIIXE. 117 
 
 " What do you mean ? Has he taken the 
 pledge ? " 
 
 " Yes. He has pledged his whole life to the 
 service of Christ." 
 
 " Frank Farington, you cannot mean that h'j 
 is converted ? " 
 
 " I think that he has become thoroughly a 
 Christian. Papa says he has never seen any 
 one who seemed so wholly renewed by the grace 
 of God." 
 
 " That is characteristic of him," said Nel 
 eagerly. " He never does any thing half-way. 
 If he has consecrated himself to Christ, you may 
 be sure it is an entire consecration. I have been 
 praying, hopelessly, for this for two years. O, 
 Frank, what blessed news you have brought 
 me!" 
 
 " Thank God, then, and take courage," said 
 Frank, cheerily, as she left her.
 
 118 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 A QUIET MIND. 
 "In quietness and confidence shall your strength be." 
 
 THE warm weather lingered late that year, 
 and October was lighting up the world with 
 her brilliant hues when the mountain tourists 
 returned. The whole party stopped a few days 
 at the parsonage on their homeward journey, 
 bringing with them a breeze of brightness and 
 freshness which Frank declared did her as much 
 good as the mountain air itself. 
 
 The six weeks of travel and enjoyment had 
 transformed Mamie from a dreamy, listless, dis- 
 pirited girl into a bright, buoyant, blooming, 
 yofing creature, interested in every thing, and 
 looking at life with new and eager eyes. 
 
 "I want you to lend her to us this winter, 
 Alice," said Mrs. Yincent to her sister ; " she has 
 grown into our hearts. Can you spare her for 
 a year ? " 
 
 " Do you want to go, Mamie 2 " asked her 
 father.
 
 A QUIET MIND. 119 
 
 " I should like it of all things, and yon have 
 'Frank; you wont miss me." 
 
 ""We should miss you if we had ten daugh- 
 ters, but it is not our wishes which we consult 
 with regard to our children. Do you think you 
 can let her go, Alice ? " 
 
 And the gentle little mother, seeing how 
 greatly her child desired it, gave a reluctant 
 consent. 
 
 Mrs. Vincent and Mrs. Farington, although 
 twin sisters, were a direct contrast to each other 
 in every characteristic. 
 
 " I cannot understand it," Frank said to her 
 aunt one day as they sat alone together ; 
 '* mamma is such a timid, shrinking, sensitive 
 little soul, and you so thoroughly self-poised, so 
 independent, so courageous, so strong." 
 
 When \ve were girls," said Aunt Laura, with 
 her low, happy laugh, "your Uncle Ralph used 
 to call us Trailing Arbutus and Diamond, be- 
 cause, he said, Alice was all sweetness and I all 
 flash." 
 
 " All sparkle and brilliancy, he meant. You 
 must have been perfectly splendid when you 
 were a girl, Aunt Laura," said Frank, her ad- 
 miring eyes taking note of the erect and stately
 
 120 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 figure, the queenly head, and the fine face, 
 with its brilliant dark eyes and firmly chiseled 
 mouth. 
 
 " Do you think so ? Ah, child, you would 
 have been sadly disappointed if you had seen 
 me then. But, my dear, there is about you a 
 mystery which puzzles me. What is it that has 
 cast the little nameless shadow into these eyes 
 that used to be so bright ? " 
 
 Frank started, flushing crimson beneath the 
 keen gaze of those fine eyes. Could she not 
 hide it, then? Must all the world know her 
 pain ? 
 
 " You were such a laughing, romping school- 
 girl when I saw you last," went on Mrs. Yin- 
 cent, thoughtfully ; " I was afraid you were 
 growing up all gayety and frivolousness. Will 
 yon tell me what magic spell has wrought such 
 a change ? " 
 
 " Why, I'm growing older, auntie. The three 
 years have been very long ones. They seem 
 like ages when I look back." 
 
 " Why did you not come to Washington last 
 fall? I was fairly hungry for a bit of young 
 life about the house." 
 
 " And I was hungry to go. I can never tell
 
 A QUIET MIND. 121 
 
 you half the struggle it cost me to give it up. 
 I hope I did not make a mistake. I thought 
 my work was, here. O, Aunt Laura, perhaps I 
 was wrong ! Perhaps God said, ' Go,' and I 
 misunderstood." 
 
 Mrs. Vincent looked at her niece meditative- 
 ly. She was a close observer of human nature, 
 and her keen eyes had taken in all the strength 
 and sweetness of this girl's character, as it had 
 come under her observation during her short 
 vi.-it. It manifested itself in numberless little 
 deeds of kindness, little acts of self-denial, little 
 loving, hopeful words, trifles in themselves, but 
 powerful in their effect to sweeten and bless the 
 lives of all who came beneath their happy influ- 
 ence. In her early girlhood Frank had been all 
 life and animal spirits, noisy and laughing, with 
 a strong tendency to hoidenishness. The toning- 
 down process might have been hard, but the re- 
 sult was beautiful, Mrs. Vincent thought. 
 
 " My dear," she said, tenderly, " I do not think 
 you made a mistake. Your father said to me 
 this morning, ' Frank is growing into a noble" 
 woman.' r 
 
 " There, there, auntie, don't you turn flat- 
 terer. The greatest compliment papa ever paid
 
 122 SMALL THIXGS. 
 
 me was when he said I was just a little bit like 
 my Aunt Laura." 
 
 " That was rather a doubtful one ; but, Frank, 
 I am still at a loss to account for the ' undeh'n- 
 able sadness' which runs like a minor strain 
 through all the music of your laughter and 
 song. Are you not content here ? Is your 
 world too small and close ? " 
 
 " O no ! it is a great deal too wide. I cannot 
 begin to fill it. It seems impossible for me to 
 attain to my own standard of right. "What a 
 struggle it is for some people to live according 
 to their own ideas of Christianity ! '' 
 
 " Do you not sometimes forget that you have 
 a human nature to contend with ? " 
 
 " I believe I have always been too ambitious," 
 said Frank, with a soft laugh. " "When I was 
 fourteen I determined to become famous. I be- 
 gan by writing. I wasted hours of time and 
 quires of paper. At last I got up what I con. 
 sidered a grand effusion of ideas and a master- 
 piece of rhetoric, and sent it to a publisher. In 
 a few days my manuscript was returned, with a 
 polite note, advising me to try again. I never 
 tried again. That experience was the crusher 
 to all my hopes of literary distinction. About
 
 A QUIET MIND. 123 
 
 that time some one remarked, in my hearing, 
 that I had an unusual talent for music. That 
 set me oil' in a new direction. All my heart 
 and soul became centered upon the piano. I 
 would never rest, I said loftily, until 1 stood 
 upon the topmost round of the ladder. Uncle 
 said, rather unwisely, I think, that he would 
 send me to Europe to complete my studies. 
 That idea fostered my ambition. I had won- 
 derful dreams of becoming a great singer, and 
 thrilling the world with my voice. If my zeal 
 in my piano studies had continued I might have 
 become a superior musician; but, alas for me ! I 
 was always so easily discouraged. One day, at 
 a school entertainment, I was requested to sing. 
 I, foolishly, selected an air from an opera, which 
 was not suited to my voice, and far beyond my 
 powers of execution, and, of course, I made a 
 grand fizzle of it. When I arose from the piano 
 I was vexed beyond endurance to see a smile 
 upon several faces and hear a suppressed titter 
 run through the room. Flushed with mortifi- 
 cation and anger, I dashed out. My music 
 master followed, and taking me aside he said, 
 kindly, ' Miss Farington, you make the mistake 
 of overrating your ability. You are always
 
 12-t SMALL THINGS. 
 
 trying to do what is beyond you. You will never 
 make a public singer, for, though your voice is 
 sweet and flexible, and will probably be much 
 admired in small circles, no possible amount of 
 cultivation will ever render it fit for the opera. 
 With much practice you will become a fine 
 pianist, but do not set your standard too high. 
 Be content to do little things before you at- 
 tempt great ones.' Xow, this was all true and 
 well intended, but I doubt if it was just the 
 thing to say to me at that time. At any rate, it 
 struck the death-blow to my ambitious dreams. 
 I desired no mediocre attainments. There were 
 plenty of third-rate musicians in the world, and 
 I had no wish to rank among them. After that 
 I made up my mind to fit myself for teaching. 
 To this end I bent all my energies, and nothing 
 coming in the way to turn me off the track, I 
 kept at it through the rest of my course. When 
 I was eighteen there was a revival of religion in 
 the seminary, and I gave my heart to God. 
 Then my ambition took a new turn. I felt, in 
 my first flush of zeal, that I must bring the 
 whole world to Christ. I desired, above all 
 things, to go on a mission to the heathen. 
 Well, it all ended in my settling quietly down
 
 A QUIET MLXD. 125 
 
 in my father's house and taking up the little 
 every-day duties, just as every other girl of 
 ray acquaintance does, and I have discovered 
 that the faithful and constant performance 
 of these very trifles often requires more effort 
 than leaving home and country for Christ's 
 sake." 
 
 Mrs. Vincent's jeweled hand was smoothing 
 the brown hair very gently. 
 
 " My dear, you have no need of advice or 
 counsel from me. I see you are fast growing 
 into that quietness which is so desirable. I 
 think you are doing the will of your Father in 
 heaven. We are short-sighted mortals, but it 
 seems to me that there is so much work lying 
 nearest your hand that you cannot step into any 
 other sphere without stepping right over God's 
 purposes. O, Frank, above all things, be use- 
 ful ! Cultivate a feeling of personal responsi- 
 bility. I believe there is more unhappiness and 
 wretchedness among young girls than any other 
 class of society simply because they are spend- 
 ing all their strength in a vain chase after 
 pleasure, and wasting, absolutely wasting their 
 lives, their fresh, ardent, beautiful young lives, 
 that can never come back to them."
 
 123 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Perhaps I am wasting mine," said Frank, 
 despondently. " There is work enough, but I 
 am so listless, and often disinclined to make 
 the effort. If we are to 
 
 " ' Count that day lost whose slow, descending sun, 
 Views by our hand no noble action done,' 
 
 I am afraid there have been a great many lost 
 days in my life. I often wish I could go back 
 to rny school days. Life had so much zest 
 then." 
 
 "It ought to have zest now. Kemember, 
 Frank, God accepts our desires to do his will 
 when circumstances render service impossible. 
 I often think that those who seem to do the 
 least are doing the most for his glory; and I 
 believe that the highest and best good to which 
 we can attain is that of a quiet mind and a 
 heart that loses its restlessness in a supreme 
 faith. And when there is nothing else to do, 
 you know, ' they also serve who only stand and 
 wait.' " 
 
 "I am glad Frank did not come to us last 
 fall," she said to her husband that night ; " God 
 is cultivating her very carefully, and our care- 
 less fingers might have hindered her growth."
 
 RESPONSIBILITY. 127 
 
 XIII. 
 
 RESPONSIBILITY 
 "Life is real ; life is earnest." 
 
 LILY SHERWOOD was decidedly out of 
 temper. She stood within the shadow of 
 the lace curtain, tapping nervously with her 
 fingers against the window-pane, and staring 
 out into the darkness with an angry sparkle in 
 her hazel eyes, and an unusual flush in her deli- 
 cate cheeks. 
 
 A young man was leaning against the mantel- 
 piece, his eyes fixed upon her with intense 
 anxiety. He was slight and boyish, and the 
 brown hair curled upon his white forehead, soft 
 and fine as a girl's. 
 
 " I don't see why you should feel so, "Will," 
 said Lily, turning upon him in a defiant way. 
 ''I'm sure you needn't blame me. I supposed, 
 of course, you understood that I was engaged to 
 Dr. Tail." 
 
 " So you were engaged to me before he came, 
 and to a dozen others for aught I know. I did
 
 128 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 not suppose you attached any importance to an 
 engagement." 
 
 " You are very unkind to say so." 
 
 " Am I ? Don't talk of uukindness, Miss 
 Sherwood." 
 
 " Why did you say that ? I am sure I have 
 always treated you with the utmost kindness." 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; your ideas and mine do 
 not agree. Rather a mistaken kindness, I con- 
 sider it, to lead a man on as you have led me 
 all these weeks, and then throw him overboard 
 when it suits your purpose." 
 
 " I have done nothing of the kind. I thought 
 you had sense enough to know that I meant 
 nothing but friendship." 
 
 " Friendship ! You. do not understand the 
 word. Didn't you say one night, at the sea- 
 shore, that you loved me better than any one 
 else in the wide world? Answer me that!" and 
 he caught the little jeweled hands in a fierce, 
 strong grasp. 
 
 " I may have said it. I don't remember. Let 
 go of my hands, Will ; you hurt me." 
 
 " Then I am to understand that it was a lie ! " 
 
 " You can understand what you please ; but I 
 would try to be a gentleman if I were you."
 
 RESPONSIBILITY. 129 
 
 ''Excuse me. I believe in calling things by 
 thfir proper names. If it is any satisfaction to 
 you to know that you have ruined me, I hope 
 you will enjoy it. Good-evening." 
 
 She watched him with darkening eyes as he 
 went out. Twice she started to call him back, 
 but a sudden weakness had seized her. She 
 heard the street-door close, and knowing that 
 he was indeed gone, she threw herself into a 
 chair with a sigh of relief. The momentary 
 conviction of her own great wrong-doing left 
 her, and in its place came a flush of gratified 
 vanity. 
 
 " It's a pity he cares so much," she said, ris- 
 ing and confronting her beautiful self in the 
 mirror ; " but it's not so strange after all. Ah, 
 there is the doctor's step in the hall ; how prosy 
 and uninteresting he has grown ! " 
 
 Dr. Vail entered the drawing-room with a 
 sigh of weariness. He did not even cast so 
 much as a glance at the beautiful girl who was 
 waiting for him, but, drawing an easy-chair up 
 to the fire, he quietly sunk into its depths 
 and closed his eyes. Lily came forward petu- 
 lantly. 
 
 " It seems to me, Arthur, that you might 
 9
 
 130 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 muster up politeness enough just to say, 
 Good -evening, when you've been gone all 
 day." 
 
 He opened his eyes with a smile. 
 
 " Ah, excuse me. It is so easy to forget the 
 'sweet small courtesies!' My life is a rather 
 wearing one, Lily, so you must not be disturbed 
 when I seem to neglect you. This has been 
 one of my hard days." 
 
 The scarlet lips pouted. 
 
 " Seems to me all your days are hard. You 
 are always glum as an owl." 
 
 u Am I ? "Well, perhaps ; but you must have 
 patience with me. I was up all last night, and 
 have been riding all day, and it is doubtful if I 
 get a moment's sleep to-night. I am a little 
 overtaxed, sometimes." 
 
 " "Well, you have no one to blame but your- 
 self. You are not obliged to start every time a 
 baby chances to sneeze. You do not get paid 
 for half your services." 
 
 " Must we render no service for which we are 
 not paid in dollars and cents ? " 
 
 " I'm very certain / should not." 
 
 " What kind of a world would it be if every 
 one acted on that principle ? "
 
 RESPONSIBILITY. 131 
 
 "A very practical, common sense kind of a 
 world, I think." 
 
 " Common sense, minus heart, would be a 
 more definite description." 
 
 " Humph ! There is such a thing as too 
 much heart. I consider it as simply an infirm- 
 ity." 
 
 " It is an infirmity with which very few of 
 us are afflicted." 
 
 " It is well for us if it is. It seems to me to 
 be every body's duty to look out for himself in 
 this world." 
 
 "I admit the common sense of that argument, 
 certainly ; but I cannot see that it is not equally 
 the duty of every disciple of Christ to look out, 
 as well, for those that are lying helpless in his 
 pathway." 
 
 " Well, no one does it, that is, no one but you 
 and Frank Farington." 
 
 " Excuse me ; I have a better opinion of hu- 
 man nature in general. Where would be the 
 broad institutions of charity all over our great 
 country if the whole world was so thoroughly 
 
 Itish?" 
 
 " What is the use of such institutions if they 
 do not look after the poor and suffering, and
 
 132 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 relieve a private individual, like yourself, of the 
 responsibility ? " 
 
 "Nothing can ever relieve me of my respon- 
 sibility to my fellow-man. When I consecrated 
 my life to the service of Him who said, ' Inas- 
 much as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
 these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,' I 
 took upon myself vows, solemn, binding vows, to 
 'do good,' as I had opportunity, 'to all men.'" 
 
 "You can do that without sacrificing yourself 
 as you do. You are not required to spend your 
 time looking up opportunities." 
 
 "Am I not? Why, it seems to me that I 
 have received a commission from my Master 
 which requires of me just that watchful, vigi- 
 lant service. Opportunities do not come to us ; 
 we must look for them. God does not thrust 
 his work upon us, but expects us to stand in the 
 posture of servants waiting to catch his slightest 
 word. All through his beautiful life here upon 
 earth Christ went about doing good, and how 
 can we be Christians unless we follow in his 
 footsteps ? Why, I feel a sense of personal re- 
 sponsibility in the matter. All the commands 
 which God has laid upon me I must obey, or be 
 false to my trust. I have no more right to my
 
 RESPONSIBILITY. 133 
 
 own time and ray own talents than the servant 
 in your kitchen or the clerk in your father's 
 store have to theirs. My idea of a profession 
 of religion is, not a mere act which custom or 
 the Bible enjoins upon us, but a solemn com- 
 pact, signed and sealed, which demands an ear- 
 nest, faithful, whole-souled, watchful service. I 
 believe that a strict account will be required of 
 us ; and if we have neglected the work which 
 our Master has set apart for us, the little every- 
 day duties which we see before us, unless we 
 willfully turn our eyes away from them, we 
 cannot enter the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 "Arthur, do, for pity's sake, bring your ser- 
 mon to a close ! If there's any thing that wor- 
 ries me, it's this forever preaching." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Lily," said the doctor, 
 rising and pacing the room; "I have no wish 
 to disturb you, but this indolence and careless- 
 ness, which the professed followers of Christ 
 manifest toward his cause, tries me exceedingly 
 sometimes. Why, it is absolutely pitiful what 
 indifference and disregard for even the outward 
 forms of Christianity exist among Church peo- 
 ple at the present day. The whole thing often 
 seems to be a farce. It is like a man attempting
 
 134: SMALL THINGS. 
 
 to cross the ocean in a row-boat, floating idly 
 with folded hands, the oars lying unused at 
 his side, with his eye of faith gazing dreamily 
 across the troubled waters, trusting that some- 
 time he will drift, without effort, into the haven 
 of rest. We come out from the world and pro- 
 fess that we are the Lord's ; we unite ourselves 
 with his people, promising before heaven and 
 earth to spend our whole strength for him who 
 has redeemed us with his blood, and then we 
 go on living our close, narrow, selfish lives, 
 with never a thought of the ninety and nine 
 who are perishing in the wilderness. Seeing 
 the poor, stumbling brother in our path, we 
 pass by on the other side. "We have no charity 
 for the erring, no bread for the hungry, no help 
 for the dying, and yet we have the presumption 
 to call ourselves followers of One whose whole 
 life was love ! It arouses all the contempt in a 
 man's soul, if he has a soul ! " 
 
 A deep flush had risen in Lily's fair cheeks. 
 
 " I suppose you intend all this for me, Dr. 
 Vail," she said, angrily; "I am a member of the 
 Church." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Lily. I was not think- 
 ing of you. I am a great blunderer."
 
 -RESPONSIBILITY. 135 
 
 " You have no right to judge any one. You 
 do not know whose life is most acceptable in 
 God's sight." 
 
 " That is so. I am afraid I was not exer- 
 cising much of that charity that believeth all 
 things. We are poor blunderers at best, but 
 those things have come under my observation 
 so much of late it seems to me that if any one 
 has the love of God in his heart it will bear 
 fruit in his life ; but there may be difficulties in 
 the way that we cannot see." 
 
 'Tin sure I don't see what I can do more 
 than I am doing," said Lily. " I live as well as 
 I know how to live ; I give liberally to all 
 Church contributions ; I always take an active 
 part in fairs and festivals for charitable pur- 
 poses ; and I always go to church, and, usually, 
 to prayer-meeting ; and I don't see but that I 
 am as consistent as the rest of Dr. Farington's 
 Church members." 
 
 Dr. Tail looked at the lovely face, taking in 
 all its delicate beauty, and turned away sick at 
 hear:. This, then, was the woman whom he 
 was to love and cherish until death should them 
 part ! A great yearning seized him to make one 
 earnest appeal to her.
 
 136 SMALL THINGS, 
 
 "My dear," lie began, turning, with the light 
 of a great eagerness in his fine eyes, " can you 
 not" 
 
 The sudden, violent ringing of the office-bell 
 cut him short. 
 
 The doctor sighed as he arose to obey the 
 summons. 
 
 " Perhaps it is better so," he said, wearily, " I 
 might have hurt her feelings, and I could not 
 have made her understand."
 
 BITTER SWEET. 137 
 
 XIV. 
 
 BITTER SWEET. 
 
 " All life's hunger, all its tears and pain, are all a part of His 
 learnings." 
 
 WHEN young Cameron ran down the broad 
 stone steps of Mr. Sherwood's handsome 
 residence that night, he felt himself, as he had 
 said, a ruined man. 
 
 His love for Lily Sherwood was the one all- 
 absorbing passion of his life. He was not al- 
 together weak-minded, but he was the only son 
 of a widowed mother, and her idol, from whom 
 she had denied nothing which it was in her 
 power to procure for him since his babyhood. 
 
 "A spoiled boy," was the title bestowed upon 
 him in his early years, and it still clung to him, 
 though his fine physique and a certain manliness 
 of manner and bearing made it rather an ill- 
 fitting one. Lily Sherwood had been his sweet- 
 heart ever since the days when they used to patter 
 along the sidewalk, hand in hand, to the infant 
 school.
 
 138 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Is that your brother, my dear ? " a stranger 
 asked of little Lily, stopping one day, fascinated 
 by the innocent beauty of the pair. 
 
 " Xo ; but I love him a great deal better than 
 my brother," she replied, with a pretty pucker 
 of her rosy lips. 
 
 " You are going to be my wife some day, are 
 you not ? " he had asked her during his tenth 
 year. 
 
 " Why, of course, Will," she answered, tossing 
 her yellow curls. 
 
 When he was eighteen he repeated the ques- 
 tion, not with the old childish assurance and 
 boldness, but in great humility and trembling. 
 And her reply had been as before, 
 
 41 Why, of course, Will. I have loved you 
 ever since I can remember. I never meant to 
 marry you," she said when she told him of her 
 engagement to Dr. Vail ; " I don't see how you 
 could think so. You are only a boy ! " And 
 the "boy" had gone out from her presence 
 white and speechless. 
 
 That was two years ago. A wholesome dis- 
 gust of the young lady's heartlessness took 
 possession of him, and, a good position being 
 offered him in one of the large business firms
 
 BITTER SWEKT. 139 
 
 of a flourishing western town, he immediately 
 seized it, and in the active duties of a mercantile 
 life he was fast recovering from his disappoint- 
 ment, when, early in the second spring of his 
 Western residence, he received a letter from 
 Lily. It was full of bitter reproaches for his 
 seeming indifference to and forgetful ness of 
 her, and ended with a delicately worded and 
 carefully expressed, but decidedly plain, longing 
 for his presence again. 
 
 That letter fanned the dying embers of his 
 boyish passion into a flame at once. There was 
 still hope for him, then. Surely she would not 
 have taken this step unless she wished to recall 
 him. She had probably grown weary of Dr. 
 Vail. He was far too grave and intellectual 
 for one of her light, trifling disposition, and 
 she had doubtless discovered that he could not 
 make her fcappy. 
 
 This young man's knowledge of human nat- 
 ure was very limited, especially as it regarded 
 his idol. That Lily could be guilty of coquetry 
 and deceit was a possibility which he refused to 
 accept. When he announced his intention of 
 leaving his situation, the proprietor of the firm 
 looked at him in amazement.
 
 140 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 k < Younj man, are you not making a great 
 mistake ? Your business capacities are admira- 
 ble. I have been more pleased with you than 
 any young man in my employ. I should cer- 
 tainly advise you to remain another year, at any 
 rate." 
 
 But argument and advice were alike useless. 
 The fact that Lily wanted him was above all 
 other considerations. All interest and ambition 
 in his employment were at an end ; he had only 
 one desire, to reach the side of his beloved one, 
 to listen to the music of her voice, and bask in 
 the sunshine of her presence. So it was with a 
 wonderful lightness of heart that he found him- 
 self at last on the eastward-bound train, although 
 his own heart told him that he was leaving a 
 grand opportunity for success behind him. 
 
 When he met Lily at Long Branch a glow of 
 great happiness had leaped into her eyes at 
 sight of him, and he had taken her in his arms 
 and called her by all the old endearing names, 
 and she had permitted it, responding to his 
 caresses with an intensity of affection apparent- 
 ly equal to his own. 
 
 When he inquired for Dr. Vail, she shook 
 her head with a pout.
 
 BITTER SWEET. 141 
 
 "O, don't speak of him, Will! He has 
 grown positively tiresome." 
 
 And he did not press the subject. It was 
 enough for him to know that the shallow little 
 heart was his once more. And so the summer 
 days flew by on shining wings, but the dream had 
 to be dissolved at last, and to-night he had asked 
 the decisive question once again, and she had 
 answered. 
 
 " It is too cruel ! " he muttered, as he drew 
 his hat over his eyes and hurried on with nerv- 
 ous strides. " I was just beginning to live. I 
 wont try again. I'll just give up the strug- 
 gle. It is too hard." 
 
 He stopped suddenly. He was passing a 
 brilliantly-lighted drinking saloon. " I might 
 as well go in and have a good time with the 
 rest," he said, aloud. 
 
 Howard Delano passed him as he stood ir- 
 resolute. He caught the words and turned back. 
 
 " Is it you, Cameron ? " he said, holding out 
 his hand. 
 
 " What is left of me, I suppose." 
 
 " Well, that is considerable, I should say," 
 said the young man, kindly. " You were not 
 going in there?" he added, earnestly scanning
 
 14:2 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 the boyish face that looked haggard under the 
 street lamp. 
 
 " Yes, come along, Delano ! " 
 
 Howard shuddered. 
 
 " Don't, Will, don't ! " he said, eagerly. 
 
 "Howard Delano, do my ears deceive me! 
 You saying don't! Why, I thought you al- 
 ways said, do" 
 
 " Yes, but, God helping me, I have said it 
 for the last time to any man." 
 
 " Well, if you have turned saint, there's hope 
 for all the rest of us. But, if you wont join 
 me, I must bid you Good-evening." 
 
 Howard laid a strong grasp upon his arm. 
 
 " O, Will, come away ! You know you can- 
 not stand a drop of the cursed stuif. For your 
 mother's sake, come." 
 
 Will's face softened a trifle. 
 
 " Poor mother, it will break her heart, but it 
 must come soon or later ! I'm a poor, cast-off, 
 good-for-nothing fellow, Howard. I don't care 
 what becomes of me." 
 
 " What nonsense you are talking ! You 
 ought to be ashamed to let such an idea creep 
 into your brain. Why, man, with your youth 
 and strength and talents and advantages, you
 
 BITTER S \\EET. 143 
 
 ought to be looking ahead to the most brill iaiit 
 kind of a life. Don't think the sun is put out 
 because a cloud has come across it. Above all, 
 don't go in such a place as that to get rid of your 
 troubles. It will only sink you fathoms deeper. 
 Come with me, boy. I'll take you where you'll 
 forget all about it. I am going to call on Frank 
 Farington." 
 
 What, little Frank ? Is she at home ? " 
 
 "Why, certainly. Where have you been 
 keeping yourself that you know so little of what 
 is going on ? " 
 
 " O, you know I have only been in town a 
 week. I haven't seen Frank in ten years. 
 What has she grown into ? " 
 
 ' Come and see." 
 
 " Really, Delano, calling upon a lady was the 
 least of my intentions, but I must confess that 
 I have some curiosity to meet Miss Farington. 
 At my last recollection of her she was coasting 
 on South Street hill with her hair flying and 
 cheeks like wild roses. What a romp she was ! 
 Those were the happiest days in my life, De- 
 lano." 
 
 " You'll forget to say that when your ship 
 comes in," was the gay rejoinder.
 
 144 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 Howard Delano well understood the cause of 
 his friend's present dejection, for Lily Sher- 
 wood's trifling with him was no secret in the 
 neighborhood ; and, although it roused his in- 
 dignation, not only against the young lady for 
 her heartlessness, but against his friend as well 
 that he should fall so easy a victim to her fool- 
 ish coquetry, there had sprung up with him a 
 sudden strong desire to rescue this young soul 
 from the river upon whose brink he had found 
 it to-night. 
 
 Frank Farington and Nel Lewis sat talking 
 together in the dark, when the door-bell rang. 
 
 " O, I cannot see any one to-night!" ex- 
 claimed Nel, rising hastily to leave the room. 
 Frank arrested her with a quiet smile. She had 
 caught Howard Delano's voice in the hall. 
 
 " I guess you'll live through it," she whis- 
 pered, laughing. 
 
 Frank greeted young Cameron with a cordial 
 brightness, which made him less wretched in 
 an instant. 
 
 " Help me to save him," Howard found an 
 opportunity to whisper. " 1 found him at the 
 door of Hill's saloon and brought him to you." 
 
 Frank Farington possessed the admirable tact
 
 BITTER SWEET. 145 
 
 of making every one feel perfectly at home in 
 her presence. Her powers of adaptation were 
 unusual. She could be bright, witty, and en- 
 tertaining, or kind, gentle, and sympathetic, as 
 the occasion demanded. 
 
 Looking into the pale, troubled face of this 
 young man, she saw that a great weight was 
 pressing him down, and rightly divined its 
 source. 
 
 " The grasshopper is a burden to-night," she 
 thought. "He needs to be amused and drawn 
 away from himself." And thus with skillful 
 tact she led him back to the old sc.liool-room, 
 bringing up one childish reminiscence after 
 another, until the heaviness stole out of his eyes, 
 and his face began to freshen again. 
 
 " Blessings on that girl ! " said Howard, softly, 
 to Nel as the light, boyish laugh echoed again 
 and again through the room. " He will be a 
 changed man when he goes out of this house." 
 
 And he was. As they went down the steps 
 he grasped his friend's hand enthusiastically. 
 
 " Howard Delano, I thank you a thousand 
 times for taking me there. She is a perfect 
 sunbeam ! Her presence has the effect of 
 
 music." 
 10
 
 146 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Do you understand the secret of her charm, 
 Cameron ? It is self-forgetfuluess. It is a won- 
 derful gift, and rare as it is wonderful." 
 
 " The world would be too happy if the gift 
 were less rare," sighed young Cameron, as he 
 turned into the street which led to his home.
 
 TRIFLING WITH SOULS. 147 
 
 XV. 
 
 TRIFLING WITH SOULS. 
 
 "Mcthinks more hearts are breaking in this world of ours 
 than one would say." 
 
 66 li /FAMMA, do you think it is my duty to 
 
 ILL attend that sociable at Mrs. Mason's to- 
 night 2 " asked Frank, folding up her work in 
 the twilight as she spoke. 
 
 It had been a tedious, depressing day ; one of 
 those days which come to us all now and then, 
 when every thing seems flat, stale, and unprofit- 
 able. Petty cares vex us and trifles annoy, and 
 all the world looks wearisome, so that at night 
 we have only the desire to lay our heads upon 
 our pillow and forget. 
 
 Mrs. Farington caught the sigh and hastened 
 to answer, 
 
 "'No, dear, certainly not; if you feel very 
 tired, stay at home and read. It will be restful 
 to you." 
 
 Dr. Farington had been standing by the fire* 
 apparently in one of his brown studies, but he
 
 148 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 turned now, and crossed over to Frank's win- 
 dow. 
 
 " My daughter, will any one in the world be 
 better for your staying at home to-night ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Will any one be any bettor for my going ? " 
 
 " That is with yourself. You can let your 
 light shine or not, as you choose." 
 
 " What, papa, at a sociable ? " 
 
 " Certainly. A faithful servant will always 
 be looking out for opportunities to do the Mas- 
 ter's work, and 1 think you can find it even at 
 a Church sociable. There are always some who 
 need to be entertained, some to be drawn out, 
 and some to be cheered and enlivened." 
 
 "Well, I never thought of finding God's 
 work at such places, mere pleasure gatherings." 
 
 " You will find as many aching hearts at 
 pleasure gatherings as anywhere else. Frank, 
 if we are to be useful in this life, we cannot 
 hold ourselves aloof from society. We all have 
 gifts of some kind, and we are bidden to use 
 them. They will be required of us." 
 
 " Then you think I ought to go to the socia- 
 ble to-night ? " 
 
 " Think of it as a part of God's world and
 
 TRIFLING WITH SOULS. 149 
 
 give heed to what your conscience says," was 
 the quiet answer. 
 
 ''I do hope Frank Farington will come," 
 Mrs. Mason was saying to her husband at that 
 moment. " She has the gift for entertaining 
 people, which takes the responsibility off my 
 shoulders." 
 
 But Frank's "gift" did not manifest itself 
 that night. 
 
 " How can I help others when I need to be 
 helped so sadly myself?" she questioned, dis- 
 contentedly, as she seated herself in a quiet cor- 
 ner. All the small talk and light laughter was 
 to her like sounding brass. 
 
 "Miss Fariugton, how happens it that you 
 are a wall-flower ?" asked a voice behind her, and 
 "Will Cameron's fair head leaned over her sofa. 
 
 " Wall - flowers are not wholly devoid of 
 sweetness," she laughed. " It is through neg- 
 lect, often, that they blush unseen." 
 
 "And waste their sweetness," he finished, seat- 
 ing himself beside her. "Don't you do that, 
 Miss Frank." 
 
 " No danger. It is a pleasure to me to watch 
 the people. How happy Nel Lewis is to-night, 
 and Howard Delano is a new man. Mrs. Mason
 
 150 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 is in her element, and there is my protege, Edith 
 Monroe. What a lovely color she has, and how 
 her eyes shine." 
 
 " She has improved wonderfully. When she 
 first came here to teach she was positively dole- 
 ful. Mr. Milburn has wrought the transforma- 
 tion, I suspect." 
 
 " Happiness has wrought it." 
 
 " Happiness ! " said the young man, with an 
 accent of great bitterness. " To those of us 
 who have seen the frail foundation on which it 
 is built, the very mention of the word is heart- 
 sickening. How can we enjoy our one brief day 
 of delight when we know that we must pay for 
 it by a thousand days of misery ?" 
 
 Frank's eyes were wide open and eager. She 
 spoke entreatingly : 
 
 " Don't give way to such feelings. You are 
 too young to speak so despairingly. Bright 
 days will come again. After winter followeth 
 summer, after night day returneth, and after 
 the tempest a great calm." 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Frank, but it is better for 
 some hearts that they should not hope, because 
 constant hoping is constant disappointment. 
 : This is strange doctrine to you, because your
 
 TKIFLING WITH SOULS. 151 
 
 life has not yet been marred. Do you know I 
 came here to-night for the sole purpose of meet- 
 ing you. You refresh me like a bed of vio- 
 lets which one meets in a wearisome journey. 
 My days and nights are full of misery Ah ! I 
 did not expect to see her here." 
 
 Frank's eyes, following the direction of his, 
 beheld Lily Sherwood, looking very lovely in a 
 dress of some soft, dark material with laces 
 white as a snow-drift at her throat, and a cluster 
 of daisies in her hair. Looking from her to the 
 young man at her side, she saw that his face had 
 grown hard and set again. 
 
 " Will Cameron," she said, the light of a sud- 
 den resolution shining in her dark eyes, "are 
 you going to let that little compound of heart- 
 lessness and vanity blight and spoil your whole 
 life?" 
 
 " I have no power in the matter," he said, 
 sadly ; " I would give worlds if I could tear the 
 love of her out of my heart, but I cannot do it. 
 God knows I have tried ! " 
 
 " Can you not go away for a while ? If you 
 were interested in some occupation, you might 
 succeed in living it down. Hard work is said 
 to be a cure for mental depression."
 
 152 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Haven't I tried it ? I had a fine position in 
 Chicago, and was partially recovering from my 
 weakness when she lured me back to her again ; 
 and what for? Simply to gratify her inordinate 
 vanity. It was the height of folly in me to be 
 so deceived ; but what the heart hopes the 
 brain easily accepts. And now it is too late. 
 The mischief has been wrought. I doubt if I 
 can ever get back to where I was again." 
 
 " O yes, you can, if you apply your whole 
 strength to the effort. If you have been weak 
 before, now is your time to be strong. I believe 
 the will has more power in these things than 
 we are aware of, if it is properly exercised. In 
 this case, the head should be made to rule the 
 heart, if possible." 
 
 He shook his head sadly. 
 
 " It is not possible. I know myself too well. 
 I may succeed in outliving the effects of my 
 passion to that extent which will render life not 
 an utter failure, but my love I can never con- 
 quer. It has grown with my growth, and en- 
 twined itself into every fiber of my being. 
 Strange, too, that I, so fickle and easily influ- 
 enced in all other matters, should continue 
 steadfast and unmovable in this."
 
 TRIFLING WITH SOULS. 153 
 
 Mrs. Mason's sharp eyes had been sweeping 
 the room for several moments. At this junct- 
 ure they caught the object of their search, and 
 she made her way to Frank's quiet corner. 
 
 " Come, come, my dear, do not imagine that 
 you are to spend the evening in obscurity. I 
 have heard several inquiries for you, and there 
 seems to be a universal desire for some singing." 
 
 Frank arose with a sigh and followed the 
 lady to the piano. She played and sang me- 
 chanically. Her thoughts were all with Will 
 Cameron, and in her heart she was beseeching 
 God to give her words to speak to him which 
 should make him strong. 
 
 Dr. Vail had been leaning upon the piano, 
 intently regarding her. 
 
 " Miss Frank, whither is the soul departed out 
 of your voice to-night ? " he asked, as she arose. 
 
 " It is engaged in a matter of greater impor- 
 tance. I want to think." 
 
 " Much study is a weariness of the flesh. I 
 am afraid you do too much thinking." 
 
 " It is better to err in that direction than the 
 other," she said, lightly, as she passed on. 
 
 " Frank, come into the conservatory with me," 
 said Lily, meeting her toward the close of the
 
 154 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 evening. " I want to show you the new cactus 
 they are all making such a fuss over." 
 
 " Now, then," she said, when they were alone, 
 " I want to know what Will Cameron has been 
 telling you about me." 
 
 " What reason have you to think he has told 
 me any thing ? " 
 
 " O, I know he has ! You might as well tell 
 me, Frank." 
 
 " Excuse me, Lily, I do not wish to talk with 
 you on that subject." 
 
 " And why not, pray ? " 
 
 " Because 'I am not patient enough." 
 
 " There, I knew. he had been saying something 
 dreadful ? " 
 
 " It is dreadful, Lily, and it is. discussed by 
 the whole village." 
 
 " I don't know why. What have I done ? " 
 
 " I will tell you what you have done," said 
 Frank, with startling earnestness, "you have 
 trifled with a human soul a soul so precious, 
 that Jesus died to save it." 
 
 " Frank Farington, how you talk ! I didn't 
 ask you for a sermon." 
 
 Frank closed her lips resolutely as she bent 
 over the plants.
 
 TRIFLING WITH SOULS. 155 
 
 "I have done nothing more than every one 
 does/' went on Lily, uneasily. " He ought to 
 have known that I meant nothing serious. 
 What could I do, Frank ? " 
 
 " Don't ask me. I tell you I have no patience 
 with you. Your conduct in my sight is dishon- 
 orable and contemptible ! " 
 
 u Why, ho\v dare you talk so! What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that you have almost succeeded in 
 crushing him, and it is a fearful thing to cause 
 the destruction of a soul. It may be a satisfac- 
 tion to your vanity to know that you have taken 
 the heart out of him; but, please God, we'll 
 save him yet. He is a noble young man ; I 
 do not think it is God's will that he should per- 
 ish at your hands." 
 
 " You are a tine talker, Frank. Perhaps 
 you'll take pity on him yourself." 
 
 The indignant color flused Frank's face and 
 brow, but she checked any thing that would 
 have escaped her lips by turning to the door. 
 
 Lily caught her hands eagerly. 
 
 " Don't go, Frank ; I didn't mean it. I am 
 not so bad as you think me, for I love Will 
 Cameron better than any one else in the world."
 
 156 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " These are strange words from Dr. Tail's 
 promised wife." 
 
 " I know it, but I don't care for Dr. Yail. I 
 can never love him." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ladies," said a voice be- 
 lil .id them ; " I have been an enforced listener 
 to your conversation. I was sitting behind the 
 orange-tree, half asleep, until aroused by your 
 voices, and then, I must confess, that great as- 
 tonishment and intense interest held me spell- 
 bound. I consider the position of eavesdropper 
 dishonorable in the extreme, but in this case I 
 think Providence may have had a hand." 
 
 The young ladies turning, startled, beheld Dr. 
 Yail.
 
 "WAKREX. 1ST 
 
 XVI. 
 
 WARREX. 
 
 "And grasp His banner, still 
 
 Though all its blue be dim ; 
 These stripes, as well as stars, 
 
 Lead after Him." 
 
 went home that night in a tumult of 
 JL pain and distress distress for herself, for 
 Lily, and for Dr. Vail. 
 
 She had prayed that she might do good, and, 
 instead, she had done the greatest evil. 
 
 " How stupid in us not to have discovered 
 him," she said, mentally, in great vexation, as 
 she threw open her window and leaned out to 
 let the damp night air cool her burning cheeks. 
 
 Ah, how unkind her behavior must have 
 looked to the clear, honest eyes of Dr. Vail ! 
 How uncharitable she had been ! With what 
 merciless severity she had denounced poor 
 Lily! 
 
 " I have put a barrier between them," she 
 thought, in bitter self-condemnation, " for Lily 
 would never have made that confession had I
 
 158 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 not provoked her to it by my harsh invectives. 
 O \vhat has the poor child lost through me ! " 
 
 And then her heart grew suddenly sick with 
 shame as there flashed into her brain a hint of 
 the possible construction which Dr. Yail might 
 be led to put upon her course of action. Per. 
 haps he even imagined that she was aware of 
 his presence in the room, and that she had taken 
 that means of enlightening him with regard to 
 the character and life of his betrothed. Anx- 
 iously she went over and over the conversation, 
 trying to recall every word, lingering with in- 
 tense pain over each little detail, until suddenly 
 something whispered, 
 
 " Stop worrying, and pray over it." 
 
 Instantly she knelt and poured out her whole 
 soul in prayer. 
 
 " Dear Lord," she cried, " make the crooked 
 straight and the rough places plain ! Thou who 
 seest the end from the beginning, have com- 
 passion upon our weakness, and take these im- 
 perfect lives of ours and shape them for thy 
 glory." 
 
 As she prayed thus there stole gradually over 
 her restless spirit a great calm, and the shadow 
 of God's peace settled upon her.
 
 WARREN. . 159 
 
 T>ut she had no desire for sleep, and it was 
 long past midnight when she arose from her po- 
 sition by the window. The night was warm for 
 February, and a light rain was beginning to 
 fall. 
 
 " I fear I have been very imprudent to sit so 
 long in that open window ! " she exclaimed, in 
 sudden recollection. " Ah, what is that ? " 
 
 The air was full of smoke, and as she looked 
 out, a sudden blaze of light streamed upon the 
 clouded sky. Two men were hurrying past the 
 window, and she caught the words, 
 
 " It's Sherwood's store." 
 
 Frank's heart gave a quick, hard bound. 
 
 u Warren ! " she cried ; and without a thought, 
 she ran down stairs and out into the dark 
 street. 
 
 " He always spends his evenings with Ed. 
 Bates," she almost sobbed, as she hurried along, 
 "and Ed. sleeps in the store; he's sure to be 
 there. O, it will kill mamma if any thing hap- 
 pens to him ! " 
 
 The streets were fast filling now with men 
 and boys, and bells were ringing in every direc- 
 tion, and the village shone red and lurid in the 
 flame.
 
 100 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 There were many curious glances directed at 
 Frank, but she paid no heed to them until she 
 felt herself suddenly grasped and drawn forward 
 in the light of the fire. 
 
 " Frank Farington, how came you here ! " ex- 
 claimed a familiar voice ; " are you walking in 
 your sleep ? " 
 
 " O, Dr. Lewis ! " she cried, with tears of re- 
 lief. " I came for my brother. I am afraid he 
 is in the store. He was not at home, and he 
 often stays all night with one of Mr. Sherwood's 
 clerks." 
 
 " My dear child, there was no one in the build- 
 ing, and O ! here is Warren now." 
 
 Warren Farington will never forget his sister, 
 as she appeared to him at that moment between 
 the mist and the flame. Standing in the midst 
 of the rough crowd, in her pretty evening dress, 
 with flowers yet unfaded in her hair, and her 
 small hands clasped in an agony of fear. At 
 the sight of him she gave way, and grasped him, 
 convulsively. 
 
 " O, Warren, my little brother, I thought " 
 
 " Frank, what a goose you are ! " he inter- 
 rupted, angrily. " You're always imagining 
 things. Now you must go home directly.
 
 WARREN. 161 
 
 People will think you are crazy ;" and, drawing 
 her hand through his arm, he hurried away. 
 
 " What ever possessed you, Frank, to come 
 out here in the rain at this time of night, or 
 morning, rather, without hat or shawl ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Warren. I thought you were 
 asleep in the burning building." 
 
 " Pshaw ! what fools girls will make of them- 
 selves ! " 
 
 He did not speak again until they had reached 
 and safely entered the house. Then he turned 
 upon her with a sort of subdued earnestness. 
 
 ik Why were you so anxious about me ? It 
 wouldn't have been any great loss if I had met 
 my death in the fire." 
 
 " O, Warren, what are you saying ? What 
 would have become of your immortal soul if 
 you had died to-night ? " 
 
 " Hard to tell ;" and he laughed discordant- 
 ly. " Frank, do you know I set that store on 
 fire?" 
 
 " Warren, what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Just what I say. There were half a dozen 
 of us fellows in there playing cards. We had 
 all been drinking, and somehow or other I up- 
 set the lamp, and it exploded. In an instant 
 11
 
 162 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 every thing was in a blaze. If any one of ns 
 poor fools had been sober we might have been 
 able to put out the fire before it did much dam- 
 age ; but, as it was, we had scarcely presence of 
 mind enough to get out of the building our- 
 selves." 
 
 Frank's face had grown very white. 
 
 '* Papa," she whispered ; "it will break his 
 heart." 
 
 " I know it, Frank ; I cannot face the music ; 
 I'm going to run away. I would never have 
 come home at all if you had not been there." 
 
 " Then God must have sent me." 
 
 " Why do you keep on clinging to me, Sis ? 
 If any one had treated me as I've treated you I 
 should have thrown him overboard long ago." 
 
 " I will never throw you overboard, Warren. 
 Are you not my brother ? " 
 
 "Well, what of it? I'm only a disgrace to 
 you. I have always been a bad boy ever since 
 I can remember." 
 
 " Then it is time to change your course. 
 Some of the worst boys have made the best 
 men." 
 
 Warren stood a moment, looking irresolutely 
 into his sister's face.
 
 WARREN. 163 
 
 " What would you advise me to do about 
 this ? It will be all over town to-morrow, and 
 what a blaze there will be! Dr. Farington's 
 sou at the head of the disgraceful affair ! My 
 character is ruined for life, Frank." 
 
 " Not at all. You have committed a great 
 wrong, but it need not nave that effect, unless 
 you weakly yield to your morbid feelings. If I 
 were you I would go to Mr. Sherwood to-mor- 
 row, in an honest, straightforward, manly way, 
 and tell him the whole story." 
 
 He looked at her disdainfully. 
 
 " Frank, sometimes I think yon are a little 
 soft Pray tell me what sense there wouid be 
 in such a course as that? To go sniveling 
 around Mr. Sherwood with apologies for de- 
 stroying his property. Can I ever make good 
 liis loss probably thousands of dollars ? " 
 
 " His loss is probably less serious than you 
 imagine. He has, doubtless, a heavy insurance 
 upon his property ; and, besides, the wind and 
 the rain are against the fire, so, I think, a great 
 deal will be saved. But be that as it may, Mr. 
 Sherwood will have much more respect for you 
 if you go to him and explain the matter in an 
 honorable way than if you sneak off in silence,
 
 164 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 and are forever hereafter afraid to look him in 
 the eye." 
 
 Warren shook his head sadly. 
 
 " I cannot do it, Frank. He would only be the 
 more disgusted Avith me/' 
 
 " Xo. If Mr. Sherwood is the man I think 
 he is, he will rejoice at the first token of return- 
 ing manliness in you. A time servant of Christ 
 will not turn aside in disgust from even the 
 most shallow and unworthy penitent." 
 
 " I don't believe that. Your Christians, I have 
 discovered, are gifted with just as much human 
 nature as the rest of us. They put on very sanc- 
 timonious faces in church and make long prayers, 
 but they will go right from the very prayer- 
 meeting where they profess to have met God, 
 and talked with him, and lo and behold, before 
 they get home, perhaps, they are quarreling with 
 their neighbors, or grinding some poor unfort- 
 unate under their righteous heels, or driving close, 
 hard bargains, and selling their souls for dollars 
 and cents. I tell you, Frank, I haven't a par- 
 ticle of faith in the magnanimity of Chris- 
 tians. As a general thing they are the most un- 
 kind, uncharitable, and unforgiving class in the 
 world. The only difference between them and us
 
 1C5 
 
 poor dogs is that we are too honest to pro- 
 fess what we do not live up to, and they are 
 not." 
 
 Frank's eyes were run n ing over with tears. 
 
 " O, Warren, stop ! " she cried, passionately ; 
 "you are judging the whole Christian world by 
 its dark side. On the same principle, there is 
 no gold in the world because so much is spu- 
 rious." 
 
 "Well, there may be a small number of the 
 chosen people left, but they are hard to iind iu 
 this day. I remember once, when I was quite a 
 youngster, hearing a gentleman of this place, 
 one of the pillars of father's Church, address the 
 Young Men's Christian Association upon the 
 subject of imitating the example of Christ in all 
 things. It was a stirring and finely delivered 
 oration, full of broad charity, and all aglow with 
 Christian zeal and enterprise. It moved me as 
 nothing had ever done before. Great and noble 
 longings for a better life took possession of me. 
 T was almost persuaded. Well, the next day, as 
 I was lounging in that man's store, it happened 
 that a lady called with a subscription paper. 
 She was trying to raise a hundred dollars to aid 
 in educating a poor young man for the ministry.
 
 ICG SMALL Tinxc;?. 
 
 Well, my eloquent gentleman of the previous 
 evening argued with that woman just one hour 
 upon the uselessness of her scheme, the useless- 
 ness of so many young men entering the minis- 
 try, and upon his own poverty, and ended by 
 giving her lifty cents a man who could have 
 given fifty dollars and never missed it. I tell 
 you that settled the matter with me. I made 
 up my mind then and there to give the Church 
 and its ordinances a wide birth, and I have seen 
 that little circumstance followed up by so many 
 of a similar nature that I have never had much 
 desire to change my determination. 
 
 " 'What is that to thee? Follow thou me,'" 
 repeated Frank, with great emphasis. ""Why, 
 Warren, if I were a young man, with health 
 and strength and brains, and saw these incon- 
 sistencies of Christians as you see them, instead 
 of allowing their influence to have the powui 
 over me to destroy me, I would go to work 
 mind and soul and strength, to correct the evii 
 which their influence is exerting. "Why, it 
 seems to me, I would use every power of my 
 being to build lip what such lives have over- 
 thrown." 
 
 "Warren smiled bitterly.
 
 "WARREN. 167 
 
 " Ah, Sis, you have a strong imagination. A 
 fine subject I would be to do good in this 
 world. Have you forgotten that an hour ago 
 I was drunk f " 
 
 " No, I have not forgotten it, nor have I for- 
 gotten that the dear Lord said, 'Though your 
 sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.' 
 Warren, I have no patience with any one who 
 persists in thinking that because he has done 
 wrong all his life he must keep on doing wrong. 
 God keeps holding out his gracious, beautiful 
 promises to you, and if you do not accept them 
 it is your own fault." 
 
 " Well, well, Frank, do go to bed. You look 
 tired to death. If I am lost, it will not be from 
 any stumbling-block that you have put in nay 
 way."
 
 io8 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 STRENGTH. 
 
 11 To thine own self be true, and it shall follow, as the night 
 the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 
 DR. YAIL sat in bis office, liis head bowed 
 upon the table before him, in deep medita- 
 tion. The events of the previous night passed 
 in rapid succession before him. They had fol- 
 lowed each other so closely, from the scene in 
 Mrs. Mason's conservatory until the breaking out 
 of the lire, that he had scarcely found a quiet 
 moment to look matters in the face until now. 
 
 Over and above all, he was conscious of a de- 
 licious sense of freedom. " I see now what a 
 burden that engagement was to me," he thought, 
 " and yet, I wonder that it was possible for me 
 to be so deceived in any one. 1 thought she 
 loved me with her whole heart. How could I 
 have been so conceited, so blind, so stupid ! 
 While the whole town was talking I had heard 
 not a whisper. What a sad mistake it would 
 have been ! While I thought in my unpardon-
 
 STRENGTH. 169 
 
 able blindness that I was saving her from a life- 
 long misery I was deliberately drawing her into 
 it ; for I could never have made her happy. 
 She had wearied of our engagement already. 
 What a life it would have been for us both ! " 
 
 The door opened softly, and Max Sherwood 
 entered. 
 
 u Ah, Yail, I thought }*ou were out. I came 
 in to look at a book, but if you are occupied I 
 will go away." 
 
 " No, no, Max, sit down. This has been an 
 exciting day." 
 
 " Yes, but matters have turned out ever so 
 much better than we expected. Father is con- 
 gratulating himself all over to-night." 
 
 " Then his loss is less than he thought ? " 
 
 " His insurance nearly covers it. Almost ev- 
 ery thing of great value was saved from the 
 store ; but what destruction there must have 
 been if the wind had been in another quarter! 
 Why a clear night and a west wind would have 
 taken half the village ! By the way, Vail, how 
 do you account for the fact that good men are 
 blessed with such scapegraces of children ?" 
 
 'Ah, my friend, that is a question old as 
 time. It is one of the mysteries."
 
 170 SMA.LL THINGS. 
 
 " A very unhappy one, I think. Now, if 
 there is a good man living, it is Dr. Farington ; 
 and if that boy of his doesn't bring down his 
 gray hairs in sorrow to the grave there will 
 have to be a sudden change in him." 
 
 " He cannot be all bad," said the doctor, 
 musingly. 
 
 "No, I believe there's a spark of manliness 
 about the fellow, too. He came to father this 
 morning and confessed all that he had been 
 guilty of in the affair. He did not seem in 
 the least inclined to shield himself, and I have 
 never seen any one who appeared so thoroughly 
 penitent. I declare, I had no idea there was so 
 much grace left in the fellow." 
 
 " What did your father say ? " 
 
 " Why, he grasped his hand in the heartiest 
 kind of a way, and exclaimed, ' Warren, if this 
 makes a man of you, I shall never regret any 
 losses which I have sustained ! ' " 
 
 " Your father is a Christian and a gentleman, 
 Max." 
 
 " I believe it now as never before. I believe 
 I have some charity and generosity in my nat- 
 ure, but I must confess I could not muster up 
 a particle for that young scamp this morning."
 
 STRKNGTH. 171 
 
 "There is no way in which a Christian's light 
 shines out so beautifully as in charity for the 
 failings of those who have injured him. I 
 wish Dr. Farington could have been spared 
 this trial." 
 
 ' I do, indeed ! That boy has been an afflic- 
 tion to him from his babyhood. He is repaid 
 for it, though, in his daughter, eh, Vail ! " 
 
 " Yes, she is a delight. Her price is above 
 rubies, I think." 
 
 The young man's face flushed hotly. 
 
 "Vail," he burst out, impulsively, "yon are 
 a man of sense ; tell me what to do. I was fool 
 enough to think I could win Frank Farington. 
 I asked her to be my wife." 
 
 A sudden sharp pang shot through the doc- 
 tor's stout heart. 
 
 " Well 2 " he asked, steadily. 
 
 " She told me to wait a year. I wonder if she 
 had any idea what it is to wait three hundred 
 and sixty-five days, vibrating between hope 
 and fear. I would never do it again for any 
 woman." 
 
 " Nor I. I would have insisted upon a final 
 and decisive answer as once. There is nothing 
 that wears out body and soal like suspense."
 
 172 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " I know it ! " exclaimed Max, starting from 
 his chair and turning to the door ; " it is killing 
 me by inches. I'll not bear it another moment ? 
 I will go to her at once, and have the matter 
 settled, in one way or the other, forever ! " 
 
 Fifteen minutes later he appeared to Frank, 
 who was sitting at the piano playing low, sad 
 melodies to the dying day. lie had not called 
 before since he had asked her to be his wife. 
 
 " I could not wait any longer," he said, ex- 
 plosively. " The year is almost up ; surely you 
 must know your own heart by this time. It has 
 been a terrible year to me. I have borne the 
 suspense long enough. I must have my answer 
 to-night," 
 
 " Max, dear Max I " she cried, with a sudden 
 rush of sympathy, " why did you not come 
 before ? I thought you had forgotten." 
 
 " Forgotten ! " I never forget for a moment. 
 Answer me, yes or no, at once, Frank. If it is 
 7i6>, I am man enough to bear it." 
 
 Frank looked at him thoughtfully. For a 
 moment she was sorely tempted. If she ac- 
 cepted him, a life of ease, wealth, and luxury 
 lay before her. She would be shielded and 
 guarded by the tenderest love. She was so
 
 STRENGTH. 173 
 
 weary, so sore-hearted, so alone, to-night, why 
 should she not give herself to this young man, 
 to be sheltered and cared for all her life ? 
 
 " Plow can I do this great wickedness and sin 
 against God?" 
 
 The words, flashing before her like sparks of 
 light, checked that other word which she had 
 almost spoken. 
 
 '* I cannot be your wife, Max. I love you as 
 a dear brother, nothing more." 
 
 " The rest will come. You require too much 
 of yourself." 
 
 " It will never come to me," she said, sadly ; 
 " I must not take upon myself vows which I 
 know I have not the ability to perform. If I 
 cannot give you my whole heart, I cannot be 
 your wife." 
 
 " I will be satisfied without it." 
 
 " No, you will not. You are worthy of a true 
 wife, Max, and you will find her some day. I 
 see much in your character that I admire, much 
 that I love. If it were in my power to do so, I 
 would give you all." 
 
 He looked at her a moment steadily ; then 
 the light of a sudden revelation broke over him. 
 
 " Frank, there is some one else that you care
 
 174 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 for. How blind I have been not to have seen 
 it before ! " 
 
 " Yes, there is some one that I care for, but 
 he cares nothing for me. I shall probably never 
 marry any one." 
 
 He stared at her incredulously. 
 
 "It cannot be possible that any man in his 
 senses could be such a fool ! I don't believe it." 
 
 "It is true, nevertheless. What a pity it seems 
 that we cannot control our affections ! " 
 
 "Then I must bid you a final adieu," he said, 
 rising. 
 
 " By no means. You are my best friend, now 
 and always. You will outgrow this, Max. Per- 
 haps freedom of intercourse will the sooner 
 enable you to do so. The more you see of me 
 the less you will like me." 
 
 " I think not ; but I will try the remedy 
 wheii I am strong enough."
 
 CLOSEU TO GOD. 175 
 
 XYIII. 
 
 CLOSER TO GOD. 
 
 " Come with tliy great unrest, 
 
 Thy pain unfold ; 
 Come witn life's problems vexed, 
 
 And truth behold; 
 Come through the golden sea 
 Of Chru-t's dear love for thee, 
 
 Closer to me." 
 
 SUNDAY morning came, with a cold, gray, 
 pitiless sky and a fine mist of snow-flakes, 
 driven to and fro in the bitter wind. 
 
 Lily Sherwood was gazing out into the storm 
 with troubled eyes. Life had become a sudden, 
 stern reality to the spoiled, petted child. Plain, 
 hard, bitter truths had been squarely dealt out 
 to her, and she saw her character in a new and 
 unpleasant light. 
 
 During the short interview, in which he had 
 released her from her engagement, Dr. Vail 
 had not scrupled to give her his opinion of 
 her conduct in terms none the less scathing 
 because of their gentleness. Dr. Vail never 
 forgot that lie was a gentleman ; but, when the
 
 176 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 occasion demanded, he could be exceedingly 
 severe. 
 
 Through all her short nineteen years of exist- 
 ence Lily had considered herself a privileged 
 character. Her own beauty, and her father's 
 wealth and position, she had supposed to be a 
 cloak sufficient to hide every deformity of char- 
 acter, and render her an object of admiration in 
 spite of any error which she might commit. 
 To-day she was looking upon her life, not 
 through the rose-colored gauze of her own self- 
 conceit, but as it appeared to the clear gaze of 
 those who loved honor and principle better than 
 self-gratification or outward show. The revela- 
 tion was by no means an agreeable one, and the 
 young lady, never before having been called 
 upon to look disagreeable matters in the face, 
 was in a state of unusual discontent. 
 
 "A stormy Sunday, of all things," she mut- 
 tered pettishly ; " it's enough to give one the 
 horrors. I don't care ; I wont stay in the house 
 all day, any way." 
 
 Obeying a sudden impulse, she opened her 
 writing-desk, took out a dainty sheet of per- 
 fumed paper, and, with flushed cheeks and trem- 
 bling hands, wrote :
 
 CLOSER TO GOD. 177 
 
 " DEAR WILL : I have something of the great- 
 est importance to say to you. Do over-look the 
 past, if you can, and come to me to-night. 
 
 " Yours, LILY." 
 
 She folded the sheet resolutely, placed it in 
 an envelope, sealed it, and began making hasty 
 preparation* for church. 
 
 u Von are surely not going out to-day, my 
 dear ! " said Mrs. Sherwood, looking up from 
 -her sofa as her daughter entered the drawing 
 room enveloped in velvet and furs. 
 
 " I surely am," said Lily, decidedly, as she 
 buttoned her gloves. 
 
 " My child, I cannot permit it. It is going 
 to be a terrible storm, and you complained of 
 your throat last night." 
 
 T>ut the dutiful daughter interrupted her with 
 a " Ta, ta, mamma," and went resolutely out in 
 the storm." 
 
 u I cannot think what possesses her," said the 
 mother, anxiously. " Max, go after her and 
 bring her back, can't you ? " 
 
 " That would be impossible without resorting 
 to main force ; but I will go to church and see 
 
 that she gets back all right" 
 12
 
 178 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 At the parsonage Dr. Farington was looking 
 out at the storm in some perplexity. 
 
 " I have spent a week of hard study upon my 
 sermon for to-day, Alice," lie said ; "but as the 
 audience will, doubtless, be very small, perhaps 
 I had better lay it aside until next Sunday. I 
 had prepared it with special reference to certain 
 individuals who, I have no doubt, will prefer 
 the chimney corner to the pew to-day." 
 
 " My dear, there will be nobody out to-day, 
 and you are not very well, suppose you stay at 
 home. If there are a few brave enough to face 
 a storm like this they can have a prayer-meet- 
 ing." 
 
 The minister looked at his small wife in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " My dear, did you ever know me to neglect 
 a service on account of storm in all my twenty- 
 five years' ministry ?" 
 
 " I do not believe there was ever quite so 
 disagreeable a Sunday before. You may de- 
 pend upon it, there will not be a dozen people 
 out." 
 
 " Does that consideration excuse me from 
 being about my Father's business, little 
 wife?"
 
 CLOSER TO GOD. 170 
 
 " Of course you will go," she said, pouting 
 slightly, as she Lad been wont to do in the far- 
 away days of her girlhood ; but her smile was 
 very teuder and loving, nevertheless. 
 
 " I think you would be excusable, though, in 
 staying at home," said the minister to his daugh- 
 ter, who stood fastening the clasp of her cloak? 
 abstractedly. 
 
 Frank shook her head with a laugh. 
 
 " There, papa, don't go against your o\vn 
 principles and tempt me to disregard mine. I 
 have no faith in your fair-weather Christians. 
 AVhen I see people neglecting their every-day 
 business for a storm I will excuse them from at- 
 tending to the duties of the Sabbath, not be- 
 fore." 
 
 ^Yarreu had been sitting before the fire, pre- 
 tending to read, but in fact listening intently to 
 every word that was passing. He arose now 
 and went for his overcoat. 
 
 "Since you are determined to face the nor'- 
 easter, Frank, I will have to go, too, or you will 
 be carried away in the blast." 
 
 The large church looked wide and lonesome 
 to the faithful pastor as he went in out of the 
 iierce storm that morning. For an instant the
 
 180 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 idea of ascending tlie pulpit and preaching to so 
 small an audience as he saw before him seemed- 
 almost ludicrous; but the organist was pressing 
 the keys very gently, and soft, rich waves of 
 melody, floating through the vacant aisle, soothed 
 and calmed him, and as he bowed his head in 
 silent petition to the great Comforter, his heart 
 grew suddenly light and joyous, as though sum- 
 mer sunshine had been flooding the outside 
 world. When he read the opening hymn, 
 
 " Love divine, all love excelling, 
 Joy of heaven to earth come down," 
 
 all within sound of his voice caught its hearty 
 ring, and were inspired by it, so that their voices 
 arose in a chorus full, strong, and almost tri- 
 umphant. 
 
 Did Dr. Faringtou see the souls of his people 
 that morning many of them weary, struggling, 
 tempted, and tried, sick unto death some of 
 them, some almost forsaken ? No, but the dear 
 Lord saw, and he spoke to them through the lips 
 of his servant. 
 
 Laying aside his carefully-prepared manu- 
 script he arose and repeated those dear old 
 words that have quieted restless hearts for ages :
 
 CLOSER TO GOD. 181 
 
 " Come unto me, all ye t?iat labor and are heavy- 
 laden, and I will give you rest." 
 
 The discourse which followed was short, ear- 
 liest, practical. It was characteristic of Dr. Far- 
 ington that, though inclined to be poetical, he 
 never forgot to be practical. .Nearly all his 
 hearers to-day were young, and it was in the 
 youth of his congregation that he felt the deep- 
 est interest. He was one of those men who 
 never grow old, who never bury their young 
 sympathies and affections out of their sight and 
 forget them, but, through all the struggles and 
 conflicts and disappointments, all the increasing 
 growth and wisdom of manhood, keep within 
 their brave, strong hearts those fresh blossoms 
 of the spring-time, ever unfaded and beautiful. 
 The fires of his own youth having never died 
 out, their light revealed to him many of the 
 precipices of sin and sorrow, of mistakes and 
 disappointed hopes over which their young feet 
 were dancing so lightly, so carelessly, to-day. 
 
 " I think you are wondering, some of you, 
 why this promised rest is not yours to-day \ " he 
 said, in closing, as he shut the Bible and gazed 
 earnestly into the young faces upturned before 
 him. " I think you are asking, if these tilings
 
 182 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 be true, why the blessed Lord has not filled your 
 waiting hearts w r ith his gracious light and glad- 
 ness? Ah, my friend, are you sure yon have 
 earned the right thus to question God ? Rest is 
 for the weary ; you are weary, perhaps, very 
 weary, it may be, even in these morning hours, 
 but what has tired you thus ? Is it from great 
 strivings to do the Master's good pleasure, or 
 from chasing up and down the world in pursuit 
 of the ever-eluding phantom of happiness 2 Is 
 it because your feet have been swift and beauti- 
 ful to do the will of your Father in heaven that 
 they ache so over the roughness of the road, or 
 are they sore and bleeding from the pricks of 
 the thorns that pleasure ever hides beneath her 
 fairest roses ? 
 
 " O what blind creatures we are ! How we 
 go on, heedlessly crushing under our ignorant 
 feet the pearls and the rubies and the diamonds 
 which God has strewn in our pathway, and 
 reaching beyond them after the glittering tin- 
 sel and dross of this poor world's treasury ! 
 Ah, yes, and even with ruthless hands, put- 
 ting aside the crown of eternal rejoicing, to 
 grasp the brief, fading petals of these frail, 
 earthly flowers !
 
 CLOSER TO GOD. 183 
 
 " Did you ever think that you are weaving 
 webs for eternity ? Did it ever occur to you 
 that these young lives of yours are exerting in- 
 fluences which may result in the destruction or 
 the salvation of immortal souls? Well, it is so. 
 There are eyes watching you on every side, weak 
 eyes, for, O, human nature is pitifully weak ! 
 and they are studying your character, Christian, 
 with merciless scrutiny, day by da} 7 , when you 
 know it not, and they are gathering up the seeds 
 that you scatter, gathering them silently, uncon- 
 sciously perhaps, but gathering them, and they 
 will spring up and bear fruit either to your 
 glory or your shame Are you sowing seeds of 
 broad love and Christian charity, of kindness 
 and self-sacrifice, of purity and honor and truth? 
 Or are you sowing seeds of selfishness, evil, 
 malice, unkindness, and bitterness ? If so, you 
 have no right to the rest which God has 
 promised to his people, for you are not his 
 people. 
 
 " O, I beseech of you, cast aside your weak, 
 false, sentimental notions of life, and be strong, 
 be sensible, be in earnest. Make your religion 
 a living, practical thing, a principle, deep and 
 abiding, that casts aside all selfish interests when
 
 184 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 the cause of Christ is at stake. When you have 
 thus hidden your lives with God you will have 
 put the world under your feet. Faith will lift 
 you to her hills, sunlit with blessed promises. 
 The discordant notes which must ever mingle 
 in all these earthly songs will cease to vex you, 
 because your ear of faith will have caught di- 
 viner strains. And when at last your lives are 
 spent and broken and mortally wounded, you 
 surrender into the hands of the last great ene- 
 my, you will go, 
 
 >( ' Not like the quarry slave at night 
 
 Scourged to his dungeon, but 
 
 Sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
 I^ike one that wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. ' " 
 
 The short service was over, and only the great 
 loving heart of God knew all the weight of 
 blessing it had wrought. The faithful pastor 
 was ignorant of it, but there was a wonderful 
 lightness at his heart as he walked home through 
 the blinding storm. 
 
 " You look happy, my dear," his wife said, as 
 he came in and stood a moment before the fire. 
 Frank was shaking the snow from her hat.
 
 CLOSER TO GOD. 185 
 
 " We have been on the mount, mamma," she 
 said, with her bright smile. 
 
 Will Cameron went out of the church that 
 day with a new, st r range peace overflowing his 
 restless heart like a river ; even the little note 
 which Lily Sherwood had tucked into his hand 
 in the vestibule, though it had quickened his 
 pulses a trifle, had been powerless to destroy 
 the quietness. The world had changed for the 
 weak, kindly young fellow during the past 
 month. lie had taken rapid strides in the wis- 
 dom which makes the soul strong. And, though 
 his heart still clung to the object of his boyish 
 adoration, he had discovered that life was livable 
 without her. Therefore it was no love-lorn 
 swain who presented himself to Miss Sherwood 
 that evening. 
 
 " Now tell me what you mean," he said, with 
 a firmness which she had never seen in him be- 
 fore. " Your trifling with me is at an end. If 
 you have any thing serious to say, say it at once." 
 
 " I have nothing to say except that I will 
 marry you if you want me. Is that serious 
 enough ? " 
 
 " You have said that before. It amounts to 
 nothing."
 
 186 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 u "Will," she said, with a sudden gravity, " do 
 not judge me by what has been. I believe the 
 former things have passed away. Dr. Faring- 
 ton said this morning, ' the best gift we could 
 offer to Christ for his dying was an earnest life.' 
 If you will take me as I am, I will be true to 
 you." 
 
 " For how long ? " he asked, with a doubtful 
 smile. 
 
 The brown eyes grew solemn and fell. 
 
 " Until the day of my death," she said, 
 slowly. 
 
 When the young man went out into the storm 
 again it was with a bounding step, for the night 
 had become light about him.
 
 PROVIDENCES. 187 
 
 XIX. 
 
 PROVIDENCES. 
 
 " Hast thou not wisdom to enwrap 
 
 My waywardness about, 
 In doubting safety on the lap 
 
 Oflove that knows no doubt." 
 
 storm passed, and the next day was 
 JL brilliantly beautiful. All day long sleigh- 
 bells jingled past the parsonage. The very 
 air was merry with their silvery music, for the 
 whole town seemed to have "gone mad with 
 the joy of the snow's coming down." 
 
 Frank w r atched the gay riders as they hasted 
 past her window with a strange discontent tug- 
 ging at her heart-strings. 
 
 "What is the matter, my daughter?" asked 
 her father, coming upon her suddenly, as she 
 sat in a dejected attitude, her eyes fixed dream- 
 ily upon the far-away snow-bound hills. " Are 
 you sighing for the far-off, unattained, and 
 dim \ " 
 
 Frank laughed lightly. 
 
 "Nothing farther off or more unattainable
 
 188 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 tlian a sleigh-ride, papa. I don't know what 
 makes me so foolish, but this constant dashing 
 by of sleighs, and the tintinnabulation of the 
 bells sets me wild; it always did. There is 
 something so exhilarating to me in the swift 
 ruoli through the whiteness and brightness, that 
 the very idea fills me with an unquenchable 
 desire to be on the wing with the rest of them." 
 
 " Ah ! you child. Is that, indeed, the height 
 of your aspirations ? I am encouraged for you, 
 Frank. Your attitude suggested something far 
 more serious." 
 
 " Where are all the young men ? " asked Mrs. 
 Farington. " I saw Max Sherwood go by in an 
 elegant cutter alone. I thought he would cer- 
 tainly stop for you." 
 
 Frank's cheeks flushed. She had been a trifle 
 hurt at this neglect of Max's. 
 
 " He might have taken me for a ride," she 
 thought. ' ' ; He certainly cannot feel any resent- 
 ment toward me." 
 
 " And there is Dr. Tail," her mother contin- 
 ued, as that gentleman drove slowly past. " lie 
 used to take you out. Is there any trouble be- 
 tween you two, Frank? He used to be always 
 running in and out, and now, we scarcely ever see
 
 PROVIDENCES. 189 
 
 him. I don't believe he has been here in six 
 months." 
 
 Frank felt the color mounting to her fore- 
 head. She was thankful that Warren's abrupt 
 entrance at that moment prevented the neces- 
 sity of a reply. 
 
 " I say, Sis, don't you want to go sleighing ? " 
 he asked, noisily. 
 
 " It is the height of my earthly desires at this 
 moment." laughed Frank. 
 
 " Then go and get ready. I'll have the sleigh 
 here in live minutes. I've got the prettiest es- 
 tablishment in town on purpose for you." 
 
 " Thank you, dear," said his mother. " It is 
 so good of you to think of your sister. I was 
 afraid you would be off with Ed. Bates or some 
 of his set." 
 
 Warren's face was very grave as he went out, 
 but he made no reply. 
 
 "Suppose you stop and bring Miss Sarepta 
 home with you, Frank," said Mrs. Farington. 
 " The weather is so very cold, I am afraid she 
 is scarcely comfortable in her little cabin to- 
 day." 
 
 " O, Warren, how delightful ! " cried Frank, 
 gleefully, as the boy gave his pony a touch
 
 190 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 with the whip, which proceeding sent them off 
 at a flying pace, the snow crystals breaking over 
 them like pearl dust and the sharp air sending 
 quick dashes of bloom into their cheeks. " How 
 good it is to have a brother." 
 
 "And how good it is to have a sister, Frank," 
 he said, abruptly reining his horse. " You can 
 thank God and take courage. I believe he is 
 going to save me, after all." 
 
 The loving heart gave a sudden bound of 
 
 " Warren ! " was all she could say. 
 
 " I can't talk much about such things ; I 
 never could," he went on rapidly and rather in- 
 coherently to say, " but that talk of father's yes- 
 terday, and that prayer I don't know how any 
 one could Well, any way, I made up my 
 mind that I was done serving the devil, and 
 would serve the Lord the rest of my days." 
 
 " O, Warren, this is blessed ! May the dear 
 Lord help you ! " 
 
 "The Lord will help me, if I help my- 
 self; but I must be out of the way of old temp- 
 tations. I am going away, Frank." 
 
 " Where ? " she asked, quietly. The boy 
 seemed to have grown all at once into a man.
 
 PROVIDENCES. 191 
 
 " To Washington. Uncle Vincent offered 
 me a place in his office when lie was here last 
 fall. I have written to-day to accept it." 
 
 44 And your mind is made up as to a profes- 
 sion ? " 
 
 " Yes; I shall study law. I believe I've got 
 brains somewhere. At any rate, I must make 
 an effort of some kind. This idle life is rust- 
 ing me out." 
 
 Frank made no reply. Her heart was too 
 full for speech just then. Miss Sarepta stood 
 at her window watching the sleigh-riders as they 
 drove up to the door. 
 
 " So your ma sent for me, did she, Warnie ? 
 Well, now, she never forgets me, does she ? 
 She's the best wife a minister ever had, your 
 ma is. I was a tellin' Mr. Mil burn so this 
 mornm'. He dropped in to see how I was farin' 
 this cold spell. Says I, 'Dr. Farington's wife 
 is just a saint on earth. And she's got a daugh- 
 ter that's growin' up exactly like her.' I'll be 
 ready in half a minute, Warren." 
 
 The sun was just setting when they reached 
 the parsonage. Frank and Miss Sarepta paused 
 a moment upon the piazza to take in the glory 
 of the sky and the hills.
 
 192 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " How beautiful the world is ! " cried Frank, 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 " It 'minds me of the New Jerusalem, where 
 every gate is a pearl," said Miss Sarepta, soft- 
 ly. " Well, now, it does seem good to get here 
 once again," she said, coming into the cozy 
 warmth of the sitting-room. " I've been think- 
 in' about you all day, Mrs. Farington. The 
 parsonage is just the snuggest place in such 
 weather. Laws, how those children of yours 
 has grow'd up, doctor ! There's Warren, most 
 a six-footer, and it don't seem a day since he 
 wore dresses. Do you hear from Mamie 
 often?" 
 
 "Yes, every week. She is enjoying every 
 moment of her stay in Washington. She is 
 taller than Aunt Laura, she writes." 
 
 " You don't mean it ! Why, Frankie, they're 
 leaving you clear behind ! Never mind, though, 
 you're a match for 'em any day. What's this 
 I hear about your bein' engaged to that young 
 Sherwood ? Hope there aint nothin' in it. I 
 never had no great opinion of him, he's such a 
 light-headed sort of a fellow. But then, laws ! 
 we haint to judge about sich things ! I was a 
 sayin' to Mr. Milburn this mornin', says I,
 
 PROVIDENCES. 193 
 
 ' 'Taint no use ! Now I had set my heart on a 
 match between you and Frankie Farington, and 
 I come as near prayin' for it as I ever did for 
 any tiling of the kind ; but, there, you see how 
 it's turned out. Not but what I think you'd 
 a done better if you'd a taken her, but the Lord 
 had other plans. One thing I've found out. 
 It don't do no good to interfere with young 
 folks." 
 
 Frank's face was crimson, but she could not 
 help laughing. 
 
 " O, Miss Sarepta, how could you ! " 
 
 "" O, I feel privileged to talk quite free 
 to Mr. Milburn, he takes every thing so kind 
 and pleasant like, and he said something real nice 
 about you, too, Frankie. Says he, in his gentle 
 way, 'Thanks, Miss Sarepta, for the interest 
 you take in me. Be sure that I fully appre- 
 ciate Miss Farington. God is keeping her for 
 some one more worthy than I. The man who 
 wins her ought to be a true knight and a gen- 
 tleman.' " 
 
 " That's so, every word of it ! " said "Warren, 
 who had come in in time to hear the last re- 
 mark. 
 
 " Yes, so it is. Ouly I do hope it will not be 
 13
 
 194 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 Max Sherwood. But then, laws! There's 
 nothin' on earth so queer as the doin's of young 
 folks in such matters. Now, there's that Dr. 
 Tail, if he aint a Christian gentleman there 
 never was one, and then to be so took up with 
 that little, doll-faced chit, when he might have 
 had the queen's daughter ! I couldn't help say- 
 in' to him the other day when he came to see 
 about my rheumatiz, says I, ' Doctor, I've been 
 a studyin' and a studyin' on it, but how in the 
 name of common sense the Lord ever come to 
 choose such a wife for you as that little Lily 
 Sherwood I can't make out ! ' ; 
 
 " What did he say ? " asked Warren, much 
 amused. 
 
 "Why, he laughed, sort o', with them big, 
 handsome eyes of his, and says he, ' Aint you 
 layin' most too much to the Lord, Miss Sarep- 
 ta ? ' I don't know whatever he meant, but I 
 hope it wasn't no disrespect to the Lord. So I 
 went on, and says I, ' The Lord directs in such 
 matters if he directs any thing, and his ways is 
 not our ways, and, of course, it haint none of 
 my business, but it does seem queer. There's 
 that Max, a light, triflin' sort of a feller he 
 always was, and they say he's goin' to marry
 
 PROVIDENCES. 195 
 
 Farington's daughter. Seems to me you young 
 folks is iriakin' most dreadful mistakes.' And 
 the doctor, he didn't say nothin' at all. He only 
 laughed and went out. And now, Frankie, do 
 give us some of your sweet music. I wish 
 you'd sing, ' God moves in a mysterious way.' 
 Sing it all through if you can, it sort o' com- 
 forts mo like when I get riled up and flustered 
 with thinkin' of these things." 
 
 And Frank, as she sung, felt her own soul 
 " sort o' comforted like."
 
 196 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 XX. 
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 
 
 "Now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the 
 greatest of these is charity." 
 
 M rpHE apple-blossoms have come to us again," 
 JL wrote Frank in her Journal one morning 
 in May. "All the air is full of their dainty sweet- 
 ness. The pure, fresh pink and white darlings 
 always seem to me like happy little messengers 
 which our heavenly Father sends to tell us that 
 he is mindful of us. Gathering as they do 
 every spring-time upon the rude boughs of the 
 crooked old apple-trees, garlanding and trans- 
 forming the ungainly things into marvels of 
 beauty and fragrance such as kings and queens 
 might envy, they seem bidding us, by their very 
 rosiness and sweetness, 'Be of good cheer.' 
 For if God so clothe them, will he not much 
 more clothe us ? This morning they are speak- 
 ing to me with unusual force, for it is my friend 
 Edith's wedding-day. I like to see every tree 
 and shrub coming out in its bridal robe to-day,
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 197 
 
 and rejoicing with us, for G od has put a song into 
 the mouth of one of his down-trodden ones. It 
 is no mean gift which he has bestowed upon her, 
 the gift of such a heart as Mr. Milburn's. What 
 a happy thought it is that, after leading her 
 through such dark and troublous ways, the gra- 
 cious Father should suddenly turn and place 
 upon her bowed head the crown of a woman's 
 life, a happy marriage ! O, the world is in 
 good hands ! " 
 
 She closed the book, laid it away, and began 
 her toilet. The marriage ceremony was to be 
 performed in the church at ten o'clock, Dr. 
 Farington officiating. Already Frank could see 
 from her window the wedding guests were as- 
 sembling, the street in front of the church 
 was fast filling with carriages, and gentlemen, 
 ladies, and children were thronging in at the 
 doors. 
 
 The rich strains of the wedding march were 
 pealing from the organ when Frank entered the 
 church. 
 
 " It's a happy bride that the sun shines on," 
 whispered some one to her as the music ceased 
 and the minister began speaking in low, solemn 
 tones the words that were to bind the happy
 
 198 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 conple together for life ; and Frank, managing to 
 obtain a glimpse through the crowd, saw that the 
 sun, stealing through an open window, was lay- 
 ing a coronet of brightest gold across the bride's 
 white forehead. As for Mr. Milburn, his face 
 fairly beamed with subdued happiness. 
 
 " I declare, he couldn't have looked any hap- 
 pier if he'd been married to your Frankie," whis- 
 pered Miss Sarepta, regretfully, to Mrs. Farington 
 after the ceremony was over and the bridal party 
 passed out. 
 
 " He seems fully satisfied," laughed Frank's 
 mother. <k But I hope no one will be taking 
 my Frankie very soon, Miss Sarepta." 
 
 Nel Lewis was waiting in the vestibule for 
 Frank. She was pale and heavy-eyed. 
 
 " I want you to come and spend the day with 
 me," she said, grasping Frank in her eager 
 way. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " 
 
 "Nothing," with a short, unnatural laugh. 
 " Wasn't the bride just beautiful ! Who thought 
 of this two years ago ? " 
 
 " God thought of it. It is a part of his plan." 
 
 " Do you suppose God has any thing to do 
 with marriages ? "
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 199 
 
 " If I did not I would pray that I might never 
 be married. Think of trusting a matter of such 
 life-long importance to chance, or taking the re- 
 sponsibility in poor human hands ! " 
 
 " How, then, do you account for so many un- 
 happy marriages ? " 
 
 " I do not account for them. It is not re- 
 quired of me. I leave that with God, who, for 
 some purpose, permits people to make mis- 
 takes." 
 
 " Permits ! Does he not compel them to do 
 so?" 
 
 "No. God is not tempted of sin, neither 
 tempteth he any man. Human nature is weaker 
 than it has any need to be, but we have no right 
 to charge God with our foolishness." 
 
 Nel did not speak again until they had reached 
 the quiet of her own room. Then, seating Frank 
 in an easy-chair, she threw herself upon a stool 
 at her feet. 
 
 " Now, Frank Farington, you seem to be pos- 
 sessed of more sense than most people, and I 
 want you to tell me what to do." 
 
 " About what ? " 
 
 " About Howard Delano. Father still obsti- 
 nately refuses his consent to our marriage."
 
 200 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " On what grounds ? " 
 
 " O, he thinks him a hopeless case ! " 
 
 " Hopeless ! Howard Delano ! Does he not 
 know of the change in him ? " 
 
 " Knows of it, but has no faith in it. The 
 fact is, he has no charity in his nature. Any 
 person who takes one step in the wrong direc- 
 tion is forever lost in his estimation." 
 
 " Not so bad as that, Nel. Your father is a 
 Christian." 
 
 " Well, perhaps he is ; but he has none of the 
 spirit of Christ. He has heard of Howard's 
 conversion from his own lips, and has seen him 
 come out publicly and unite with the Church, 
 and still refuses to believe any good of him. 
 He says it is the result of an impulse which will 
 wear off when the excitement dies out. He 
 cannot believe in such sudden changes." 
 
 " I am very sorry, !N~el." 
 
 " Sorry ! Frank, Dr. Lewis shall not ruin my 
 happiness for life. If he persists in this I'll 
 run away," and the black eyes flashed fever- 
 ishly. 
 
 " Hush ! Remember he is your father." 
 
 " Well, I'm not to blame for that," said Nel, 
 with a harsh laugh. " I tell yon, he is too hard
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 201 
 
 and severe with his children. He will never 
 crush me, though." 
 
 Frank gazed at her friend thoughtfully, while 
 a sudden purpose was forming within her. 
 
 " You look very tired," she said, quietly. 
 
 "Tired! Yes. I never slept a wink last 
 night, and I've nearly cried my eyes out." 
 
 " You must give it up, Nel. "Worrying doesn't 
 do any good." 
 
 " What is the use of telling me that ? " said 
 Xel, fretfully ; " can I help my own thoughts ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think you can, to a certain extent. 
 I think it is possible, in a measure, for us to live 
 out of ourselves. Papa says the true secret of 
 happiness is self-renunciation." 
 
 " O, those things are all well enough to say. 
 They sound brave and heroic, but when one 
 stands face to face with a living trouble, it isn't 
 so easy to push it aside, and, like the Spartan 
 boy, to smile and smile. O, Frank, mine is a 
 very human heart, and as long as its wants are 
 not supplied it will throb and ache and weary 
 me with its ceaseless crying." 
 
 " Nel, you asked me to tell you what to do," 
 said Frank, firmly, yet soothingly as she would 
 have spoken to a fretful child. " Now I will
 
 202 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 tell you. Just lie down here and take a long 
 nap." 
 
 " O, I can't. I want to talk. It relieves 
 me ? " 
 
 " But I will not talk to you now. I will read 
 though, or sing, if you wish it." 
 
 " Sing, then. Your voice is a blessing." 
 
 In ten minutes Frank had the satisfaction of 
 leaving her friend in the deep heavy sleep of 
 complete exhaustion. Hearing Dr. Lewis' voice 
 in the hall, she ran down to meet him with a 
 resolute step. He welcomed her cordially. She 
 was a great favorite of his. 
 
 " Where is Nel ? " he asked. 
 
 " Up stairs, asleep." 
 
 " Asleep ! " 
 
 "Yes. I made her lie down. She is thor- 
 oughly worn-out." 
 
 How ? " 
 
 " Trying to decide between her father and 
 her lover," said Frank, plunging boldly into her 
 subject. 
 
 The doctor's face hardened. 
 
 " I hope you do not encourage her in that 
 nonsense," he said, hastily. 
 
 " Encouragement and discouragement are
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 203 
 
 alike useless in an affair of this kind. It is a 
 matter of very serious import with her, Dr. 
 Lewis." 
 
 "It is a weakness which she will have to 
 overcome." 
 
 " She never will overcome it." 
 
 " Then she will have a sad life of it, for she 
 will never marry that young man with my con- 
 sent." 
 
 " I am afraid she will not obey you." 
 
 " Then she is no daughter of mine." 
 
 "May I ask why you object so seriously to 
 him ? " asked Frank, gently. 
 
 " Object to him ! Why, he has no character. 
 I know all you would say about his conversion. 
 It may be genuine enough just now, but in a 
 year he will be back at his old habits. It is im- 
 possible for a man's whole nature to change in 
 a moment." 
 
 " Is it not possible with God ? " asked Frank, 
 softly. 
 
 " God does not work by miracles in these 
 days, and nothing short of a miracle could save 
 Howard Delano. Why, he was one of the worst 
 young men I ever knew. Nel doesn't care. 
 She was just as much in love with him before
 
 204 SMALL THING?. 
 
 his conversion as she is now. I haven't a par- 
 ticle of faith in him." 
 
 Frank's face flushed indignantly. 
 
 " Dr. Lewis," she burst out impulsively, for- 
 getting, in her haste, that she was addressing a 
 person older than herself, " suppose God should 
 receive a repentant sinner in that way, what 
 chance would there be for any of us I Christ 
 distinctly says, ' Whosoever cometh to me I will 
 in nowise cast out.' Are we holier than he that 
 we have a right to cast out even the weakest 
 soul that dares approach him." 
 
 " Your argument does not apply to this case, 
 Frank. God looks upon the heart, while man 
 sees only the outward appearance. He knows 
 whether the repentance is sincere or not. "We 
 have only our own reason to judge with. It is 
 a lamentable fact that a profession of religion is 
 coming to be regarded as a very light matter by 
 the growing people of the present day ; at least, 
 we must infer so if their lives are to be con- 
 sidered as an evidence of their principles. 
 Why, the behavior of many of our young con- 
 verts is bringing such actual reproach upon the 
 cause of Christ that, to sensible people, it has 
 almost ceased to be a matter of rejoicing when
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 205 
 
 one comes out and makes a profession. I do 
 not know what their ideas are, but when I see 
 people actually ridiculing what they profess to 
 believe in and honor, I am simply disgusted." 
 
 " Dr. Lewis, I beg your pardon, but is it just 
 to judge the character of one individual by a 
 class ? Are you very sure that your estimate of 
 Howard Delano's principles and motives is the 
 correct one ? It is now nearly a year since he 
 came out upon the Lord's side, and he has be- 
 haved most consistently. Even if he had fallen 
 now and then, is it not required of us, who are 
 strong, to encourage the weak and lift up the 
 fallen, instead of turning away from them in 
 disgust?" 
 
 " You plead your case well, Frank," said the 
 doctor, with a satirical smile. " I believe the 
 young fellow is a favorite with ladies. I am 
 sure I hope that he will hold out, but I am 
 skeptical, that is all." 
 
 Frank was exceedingly vexed, but she con- 
 trolled herself and ventured one more plea for 
 her friend. 
 
 " Surely, sir, you will not condemn him un- 
 conditionally. Can you not permit him a longer 
 time in which to redeem his character ?"
 
 206 SMALL THING*. 
 
 The earnest pleading in the tine eyes haunted 
 the doctor for many days, but if their elo- 
 quence had taken any effect he gave no sign 
 of it. 
 
 " It is useless to argue the point any further," 
 he said, with a grim smile ; " when your hair is 
 as gray as mine you will have learned many 
 things, I hope. And now, if you please, I will 
 listen to some singing." 
 
 Frank turned to the piano with a sigh. She 
 had failed, then. How hard it was to do God's 
 work." 
 
 She struck a chord or two, abstractedly, when 
 all at once the words of a hymn which she had 
 been teaching to her Sabbath-school class came 
 drifting into her memory, and she sang it in 
 low, distinct tones, bringing out the wordo softly 
 but clearly : 
 
 " There's a wideness iu God's mercy, 
 
 Like the wideness of the sea : 
 There's a kindness in his justice, 
 
 Which is more than liberty. 
 
 "There's no place where earthly sorrows 
 Are more felt tnan up in heaven ; 
 
 There's no place where eartlily failings 
 Have such kindly judgment given.
 
 UNTO THE UTTERMOST. 207 
 
 " For the love of God is broader 
 Than the measure of man's mind; 
 
 And the heart of the Eternal 
 Is most wonderfully kind." 
 
 " It is my last appeal," she thought, as she 
 closed. " If those words do not move him, none 
 of mine can." 
 
 " Keep up a good heart, Nel," she whispered, 
 as she parted from her friend at sunset ; " every 
 thing comes in time to him that can wait."
 
 208 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 GOD'S BLESSING. 
 
 " Life hath its hopes fulfilled; 
 Its glad fruitions, its blest, answered prayers, 
 Sweeter Cor waiting long, whose holy air 
 Indrawn to silent souls, breathes forth its rare, 
 Grand speech by joy distilled." 
 
 TJ1RANK walked Lome wearily in the fading 
 JL light. Every thing looked so hopelessly 
 hopeless. The long years stretched away be- 
 fore her, dim, with dark probabilities. the 
 hills of pain and difficulty which she must climb 
 before she could reach the gates of pearl ! O 
 the rnists of unsatisfied longing and heartache 
 through which she must pass before she could 
 gain the purer air and the bluer skies and the 
 brighter sunlight ! 
 
 " I wonder why God blights the lives of his 
 own people with such unscrupulous hands ( " 
 she questioned, fretfully, in her impatient heart. 
 Has he no compassion ? Surely, this constant 
 'wailing for precious things' cannot be a means 
 of grace to any one ! Why has he seen fit to
 
 GOD'S BLESSING. 209 
 
 withhold from me the good which lie lavishes so 
 freely upon others ? Am I so far less deserving ? 
 Where is the use of trying to serve him when he 
 lays such heavy burdens upon me that I am ham- 
 pered on every side ? Surely a loving Father 
 must see how weary his child is growing ! " 
 
 She stopped suddenly. She was passing Miss 
 Sarepta's little cottage, which was half hidden 
 now under the apple-blossoms. Somehow she 
 could not get past the small house to-night. 
 The old lady sat in her open window, trying to 
 read, in the fast gathering twilight. She looked 
 up with a glad smile as Frank leaned over the 
 window-sill. 
 
 " Ah, I was just thinkin' about you ! I was 
 readin' about you, Frankie." 
 
 " Why, you are reading the Bible, are you 
 not?" * 
 
 She nodded, and held up the book, with her 
 finger upon a passage. 
 
 Frank bent near and read : " The King's 
 daughter is all glorious within : her clothing is 
 of wrought gold. She shall be brought unto 
 the King in raiment of needlework." 
 
 She drew back, slightly shocked. It seemed 
 
 eo exceedingly irreverent. 
 14
 
 210 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 Miss Sarepta caught the displeasure in her 
 eyes, and smiled. 
 
 " I think of you every time I read that verse," 
 she said. 
 
 " I'm afraid you do not understand it, Miss 
 Sarepta." 
 
 " Well, may be not, but I always supposed the 
 King's daughter meant one whose daily walk 
 and conversation shows her to be the daughter 
 of the King of kings, and I thought she must be 
 all beautiful and glorious within or she couldn't 
 be always sheddin' such a pleasant light about 
 her." 
 
 Frank's cheeks flushed. 
 
 "Ah, Miss Sarepta, you cannot think that 
 description applies to me ! Me, so full of 
 sinful thoughts, so impatient, so willful, so 
 weak ! " 
 
 " If you have any of them qualities you keep 
 'em pretty well out of sight ; that's all I've got 
 to say. Kow, I haint one to flatter, but there's 
 no denyin' that you are a young lady worth 
 takin' pattern after. There's nothin' pleases old 
 folks like little kind attentions from the young. 
 Most of the gals, when they come from board- 
 in'-school, put on sich airs and graces that they
 
 GOD'S BLESSING. 211 
 
 spile themselves completely. They turn up their 
 noses at an old woman like me, and poke fun at 
 my old-fashioned clothes and ways. I've ketched 
 'em a sneezin' and a laughin' when I come into 
 meetin'. May be they don't know how such 
 things hurt ; it's likely they haint no idea that 
 a poor, uneducated old woman has got feelings. 
 Some of 'em ag'in will make every thing of me 
 to my face and laugh when my back's turned. 
 I suspicioned you of that when you first came 
 home, and I watched you mighty close for a 
 spell, but I've found out that there aint a mite 
 of that ere spirit about you. Respect for the 
 aged seems to be a quality that is born in you. 
 I've took notice of you at social gatherings and 
 other places where I've been, and I see that it 
 don't matter how many young men is hangin' 
 around, you never forget the old folks, but 
 you've got a word and a smile for all of 'em. 
 I've known you to sit and listen to that tiresome 
 Mi's. Matthews while she went over the whole 
 list of her complaints that no one else had any 
 patience to hear; and once I saw you leave a 
 party of young ladies in the street and run 
 across to open the gate for poor old lame Billy 
 Tompkins, and I heard him mutter, as he stood
 
 212 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 looking after you, ' That's a lady if ever there 
 was one.' All these things go to make up char- 
 acter, Frankie, and it's a character that's beauti- 
 ful, too." 
 
 " O, Miss Sarepta, how you magnify trifles !" 
 said Frank, with a laugh. " Those are such very 
 little things." 
 
 " May be they're little things, but they go a 
 great ways. It's the little drops of water that 
 make the big ocean." 
 
 The gate clicked, and Dr. Yail came up the 
 path. 
 
 Miss Sarepta greeted him very cordially, but 
 Frank drew back with a slight coldness. She 
 had not met him thus, face to face, since the 
 evenino- at Mrs. Mason's. 
 
 w 
 
 He declined Miss Sarepta's invitation to en- 
 ter, and came and stood beside Frank at the 
 window. 
 
 " I stopped, as I was passing, to leave that 
 liniment for your rheumatism, but, judging from 
 your countenance this evening, I imagine you 
 are not suffering from pain of any kind." 
 
 " No, I feel first-rate to-night. Frankie here 
 is as good as a dose of medicine any day, Dr. 
 Vail."
 
 BI.K.SSI.N.;. 213 
 
 Frank and the doctor laughed simultaneously 
 as their eyes met. 
 
 " If that is the best thing you can say I'll 
 never come again," said the young lady. 
 
 " I fully agree with you, Miss Sarepta," smiled 
 the doctor ; " I shall prescribe her hereafter. 
 In fact, I don't know but that it would be excel- 
 lent policy, for my patients, finding such agree- 
 able doses dealt out to them, will be in no haste 
 to get well, and thus require a long continuation 
 of my visits." 
 
 "I don't know what you are trying to get 
 at," said the old lady, looking from one to the 
 other with a puzzled air, " but I would like to 
 tell you two what came into my mind at the 
 wedding this morning." 
 
 " We are listening," said the doctor, gravely. 
 
 u Well, they say, at every wedding a new " 
 
 " Why, how dark it is getting ! " interrupted 
 Frank, in sudden apprehension of what was 
 coining ; " I must go at once." 
 
 " If you will accept of my poor protection, I 
 will be most happy to guide you through the 
 darkness," said the doctor, obsequiously. 
 
 Miss Sarepta smiled quietly as they walked 
 down the path together.
 
 214 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " You wouldn't let me say it, Miss Frankie, 
 but that brightness didn't come in the doctor's 
 eyes for nothing ; he understood it." 
 
 But the spell of silence seemed to have fallen 
 upon them both as they went out into the fra- 
 grant dusk. At the parsonage gate the doctor 
 found his tongue. 
 
 "The night is very delightful," he said, "if 
 yon are not tired, suppose we walk a little far- 
 ther. Don't yon want some apple-blossoms ? 
 There is a tree- full of beauties upon the hill 
 above South Street." 
 
 There was a strange pleading in his voice, and 
 Frank assented, wonderingly. 
 
 " Miss Frank, it seems like a very long time 
 since that rainy day, the day I told you my story. 
 H~ve you forgotten it ? " 
 
 <l JNo, but I have always regretted that you 
 told vne- J * 
 
 " Why \ 3 * fce asked, bending a searching glance 
 upon her. 
 
 " Because it had th3 effect of making you dis- 
 like and avoid me: 1 * 
 
 " Dislike you ! ' 
 
 lie paused suddenly. 
 
 '1 never regretted it for a moment} but I
 
 GOD'S BLKSSINO. 
 
 made a mistake. I thought I was taking your 
 advice, but I did an ignoble thing, thinking it 
 was noble. I came near ruining the happiness 
 of three people by my self-conceit." 
 
 " Your self-conceit ? " she repeated, question- 
 in Grlv. 
 
 O v 
 
 <% Yes. I did not know I was possessed of so 
 large an amount of the article. But I have been 
 well cured of the infirmity. The dose was bit- 
 ter, but it did thorough work. I now under- 
 stand why there are so many miserable mar- 
 riages. People are so thoughtless. They rush 
 heedlessly into the most important step in life. 
 I shudder when I think of the irreparable injury 
 I should have done if I had been allowed to drift 
 into the union which I was contemplating." 
 
 " Matters have adjusted themselves beautiful- 
 ly,'' said Frank, not knowing what else to say ; 
 ' AYill Cameron is fairly bubbling over with 
 happiness." 
 
 44 Yes, his face is like a song. What a mis- 
 take it would have been !" 
 
 There was silence for a moment, then the doc- 
 tor spoke again in a low, eager voice. 
 
 44 Frank, I said a moment ago that I was cured 
 of my self-conceit. At this instant I feel the
 
 2 16 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 old symptoms again manifesting themselves and 
 urging me to even greater presumption than 
 ever before. I sometimes think I am too hope- 
 ful, but I cannot risk the shadow of another 
 mistake. ' Our doubts are traitors, and make us 
 lose the good we oft might win by fearing to 
 attempt.' I have never considered myself wor- 
 thy of you, Frank ; but my heart weak, err- 
 ing, irresolute, as you have seen it to be is all 
 yours, and has been for two years in fact, ever 
 since I have known you." 
 
 " O, Dr. Vail ! " said Frank, in a pained 
 voice, " and you would have married one wom- 
 an knowing that you loved another ? " 
 
 " I suppose so. I scarcely realized it. You 
 gave me the right name when you called me 
 ' blunderer.' The fact is, I gave very little seri- 
 ous thought to the subject. I imagined that I 
 was doing the only honorable thing, and rested 
 upon the merits of that. Conscience and my 
 own heart's cravings I silenced by a close, 
 steady application to matters relating to my 
 profession. I comforted myself by the thought 
 that life was given to us for earnest purpose 
 and strong endeavor, and happiness should be a 
 secondary consideration."
 
 GOD'S BLESSING. 217 
 
 " I think in this case it was a question of 
 right, not happiness." 
 
 " Well, that was the light in which I viewed 
 it. I stupidly thought that I was doing right. 
 I had a vague idea that love, and all that per- 
 tained to it, was a romantic, boyish sentiment, 
 which could be overcome. I thought the heart 
 should be compelled to bend to the will." 
 
 " And you were overcoming it ? " 
 
 " No. By a steady persistence in holding 
 myself aloof from your influence I might have 
 succeeded in burying the sentiment down so 
 deep that it would seldom have confronted me 
 even in my inmost thoughts, but I see now that 
 the effort would have resulted in hammering all 
 the finer nature out of me and rendering me 
 hard, cynical, worldly, and bitter. I believe 
 there is more of that kind of hardening process 
 going on in the hearts of men than we are aware 
 of/' 
 
 The doctor was silent for several moments, 
 waiting for her to speak. But she did not 
 speak, and he felt a mist coming over his 
 eyes. 
 
 " I see I have presumed too far after all,*' he 
 said, with an accent of great pain in his voice;
 
 218 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " you cannot overlook my defects of character. 
 I should have known it." 
 
 But Frank looked up at him with eyes that 
 were full of light. 
 
 " It is not for me to condemn you, Dr. Tail, 
 and besides 
 
 She did not finish the sentence, but he caught 
 the falter in her voice, and bent eagerly to read 
 her face in the moonlight. 
 
 " Is it possible that you care for me ? " 
 
 " Just possible," she said, with a soft, happy 
 laugh. " All, Dr. Vail, you are a blunderer ! " 
 
 The doctor could not speak. He took off his 
 hat, reverently, and lifted his eyes, through the 
 apple-blossoms, to the stars. The place whereon 
 he stood was sacred ground, for it was as if God 
 had passed by and laid a precious gift in his 
 hands. 
 
 The first thing he did was to break off a large 
 cluster of rosy blossoms and fasten them in 
 Frank's hair, just above the forehead. 
 
 " Thanks to the Wisdom that never fails, the 
 blunderer is righted at last," he said, in a hushed, 
 happy voice ; " let us make our lives a thank- 
 offering." 
 
 And so, under the light of the beautiful stars,
 
 GOD'S BLESSING. 219 
 
 they went down the hill together, with hearts 
 united, never to separate again until they should 
 reach the shore of the river of death. 
 
 When they reached the pai*sonage they found 
 it full of light and laughter and happy voices. 
 
 Frank paused upon the steps, wondering an 
 instant, the next there bounded out to meet her 
 a young girl in a white dress a beautiful girl, 
 with long, fair curls, and eyes like spring 
 violets. 
 
 " Mamie ! " she gasped. 
 
 " Yes, Mamie. We came to-night, uncle and 
 aunt and I, and why, Frank," drawing her 
 under the light of the hall lamp, and holding 
 up the face that sparkled so beneath its blossom 
 crown, " you are positively brilliant ! What has 
 come to you '( " 
 
 " God's blessing," said Frank, very softly.
 
 220 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 RAINBOWS. 
 
 " O, dear October ! well may I 
 
 Lay pen and pencil down, 
 
 All sense you more than satisfy, 
 
 And with such radiance crown the distant hills, 
 
 They prophesy of hills unseeu by mortal eye. 
 
 Sometimes, in dreams, I think I see 
 
 What longing eyes have sought in vain. 
 
 Something of what that life must be 
 
 That feels no sorrow, want, nor pain, 
 
 These hills beneath October skies 
 
 Have caught the light of Parad se." 
 
 ft TTS just wonderful ! " said Miss Sarepta. 
 
 JL " What is wonderful ? " asked Mamie, 
 starting from the reverie into which she had 
 fallen. 
 
 " The Lord's doin's." 
 
 The old lady took off her spectacles and wiped 
 them. There was a blur over the dim eyes to- 
 day. Perhaps she felt something as mothers 
 feel when their children are slipping away from 
 them. It was the most glorious of October 
 days. Far as the eye could stretch there was a
 
 RAINBOWS. 221 
 
 golden haze of light and color and beauty, while 
 over it all hung a tender mist, like the exquisite 
 shading of some rare picture. 
 
 " It is just four years ago to-day since I made 
 up my mind to stay in Crescent," said Frank, 
 speaking unconsciously. 
 
 She had been sitting under the shadow of the 
 scarlet woodbine drinking in the loveliness in 
 long draughts. There was a sort of subdued 
 glory over every thing, but perhaps that was 
 because it was the day before the wedding. 
 Such days are apt to stand out more radiantly 
 than other days. But, be that as it may, our 
 heroine was a very pleasant picture, as she sat 
 there, under the shadow of the woodbine, with 
 the golden haze shining over her brown hair 
 and bringing out the tender lights in her seri- 
 ous eyes and the blissful curve of her beautiful 
 mouth. Perhaps she would never look again 
 quite as she looked to-day. 
 
 Some vague idea of this had been passing 
 through Miss Sarepta's mind when Frank's 
 words recalled her. 
 
 " Since you made up your mind to stay in 
 Crescent?" she repeated. "Why, where else 
 should you stay, child 2 "
 
 222 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " O I was by no means a fixture ! There 
 were other places for me." 
 
 " Well, it was a good thing for Crescent that 
 you stayed. You've made a good many happy 
 hearts in your life-time, Frankie." 
 
 " There, don't flatter her," laughed Mamie ; 
 " she's fairly running over with vanity now, and 
 well she may be. I would be vain, too, if I had 
 been fortunate enough to captivate Dr. Vail. 
 Do you know, Miss Sarepta, he has always been 
 my ideal ? " 
 
 Miss Sarepta shook her head, smiling. 
 
 "No, no, child. He would never suit you. 
 Not but what you're deservin' of a good man's 
 love, for you've growed up into a very nice 
 girl, a good deal nicer than I ever thought you 
 would, but then you're too much of a rattle- 
 brain. You haint well, solid enough for a 
 man like Dr. Vail. He ought to have the best 
 kind of a wife. But, then, as I was sayin', it's 
 wonderful. "When I think how I used to plan 
 and contrive and advise the Lord what to do, I 
 say to myself, * Sarepta Smith, what an old fool 
 you have been ! Jist fold your old hands now 
 and sit still. You don't know no more than a 
 baby.' And, O, it is so good to feel that we
 
 RAINBOWS. 223 
 
 have got a Father in heaven to take care of us ! 
 La, we needn't fret about any thing in this 
 world, no more than if we were babies in our 
 mother's arms. For it always comes out right 
 in the end if we only wait. Kow, there's War- 
 ren. I fretted and worried the life most out of 
 me about that boy. I kept fairly teasing God 
 to send him away from Crescent, for I didn't 
 seem to have no idea that he could be turned 
 from his evil ways while he stayed here, and 
 the harder I prayed the worse that boy seemed 
 to be goin' on, and the thinner your father's 
 face got, and the bigger your mother's eyes 
 grew, and at last I give up in despair. When 
 Mr. Sherwood's store was burnt I said, ' It's no 
 use ; I've been pray in' six years for that boy, 
 and God don't listen.' Laws, I needn't been a 
 mite discouraged if I'd prayed twenty-six years. 
 The answer would have come. He would have 
 been saved. And in this case we got ever so 
 much more than we asked for. I didn't seem 
 to think the Lord could make Warren a bless- 
 ing. I thought if he only saved him it was all 
 we could expect." 
 
 Frank did not reply. She was thinking of 
 the words Mrs. Milburn had spoken to her
 
 224 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 yesterday, sitting in her sunny parsonage, with 
 her brown-eyed baby asleep in his cradle. 
 
 " God is so much wiser than our desires, 
 Frank ; he gives far more liberally than we 
 know how to ask. It is a w r onder to me how 
 any one can lose faith in him as I lost mine." 
 
 " Fan Lewis is at home," said Mamie, fasten- 
 ing some red maple leaves in her belt. 
 
 " Yes. She'll always be herself, Fan will. 
 She's as high-strung as ever. She laughs and 
 chatters like a magpie and finds fun in every 
 thing, but I do believe she's got better princi- 
 ples than she had when she went away, least- 
 ways, she's kinder to her father than she used 
 to be, and that's worth considerable. I hope 
 she'll be a comfort to him, for he's going to lose 
 his other daughter soon." 
 
 Frank started. 
 
 " How do you find out every thing, Miss Sa- 
 repta ? " she asked, laughing. 
 
 " O I go about a good deal, and can't help it. 
 I was over there about two weeks ago spending 
 the day, and I heard the whole story. I don't 
 know as I ought to tell it ; but you girls know 
 how to hold your tongues, I guess. Well, as I 
 was sayin', I overheard the whole story. May
 
 RAINBOWS. 225 
 
 he I hadn't ought to a listened, but then I could 
 not help it very well, and besides, I was just a 
 leetle mite curious. I was sittin' in the hall 
 with my knittin' when Howard Delano came in, 
 and he didn't shut the office door tight, but left 
 it on a crack, so I could hear every word. 
 May be I'd ought to got up and shut it, but I 
 must confess I did have a sort of a hankerin' to 
 hear what them two were sayin' to each other ; 
 so I jist sot still and listened, and Dr. Lewis 
 says, says he, ' Young man, I've been watchin' 
 your conduct closely for two years, and I must 
 admit that the light of your Christian life has 
 shone out grandly. I am compelled, in spite of 
 myself, to believe in you. I have been unchar- 
 itable and ungenerous, but if you are willing to 
 forget the past I am. If you want my daugh- 
 ter, sir, take her, and you will have my bless- 
 ing.' Them haint jist the doctor's very words, 
 but it's the sense of 'em as near as I could make 
 out. Well, Howard, he came out lookin' very 
 bright and went off to find Nel. She'd been in 
 the garden all this time, waitin' for him, I s'pose, 
 and they were out there together an hour or 
 more, and then he came in and stayed to sup- 
 per, so I guess it's all settled." 
 15
 
 226 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 The sun was beginning to shine ?ow toward! 
 the hills, and a littie breeze blew up, tossing 
 Mamie's curls to and fro. 
 
 " I hope it will be pleasant to-morrow," she 
 said ; " any thing but a rainy day for a wed- 
 ding." 
 
 " It wont make our bride any the less happy 
 if it rains pitchforks," said Miss Sarepta ; " she's 
 got a contented spirit and a trust in God. Ah, 
 there comes the doctor ! Young man, do you 
 know what you are takin' out of this house 
 when you take Frankie \ " 
 
 Dr. Yail laughed, ^ut the light in his eyes 
 was very tender as they rested upon Frank's 
 happy face. 
 
 u I know it better than any one else, Miss 
 Sarepta," he said. 
 
 The gate clicked again, and Max Sherwood 
 came up the path. 
 
 " Here are letters," he said, tossing a. package 
 into Mamie's lap. " I stopped at the post-office 
 as I was passing." 
 
 " O, they are all coming ! " cried Mamir , 
 gleefully, as she read her letter. " Uncle and 
 auntie, Mr. Sutherland and Louise, and War- 
 ren. Hear what auntie says : ' We are proud of
 
 RAINBOWS. 227 
 
 Warren. He is growing stronger day by day. 
 You have no idea how he has gained in 
 strength of character, firmness to resist temp- 
 tation, and the power to say no. One would 
 scarcely recognize in the big, broad-shouldered, 
 honest-eyed, quick, sharp, decided young man 
 the weak, miserable wreck of a boy of two 
 years ago. O it was well worth praying for, 
 wasn't it ? ' " 
 
 She folded the letter and laid it down with a 
 little sigh of weariness. She had been sitting 
 still a long time, and the vigorous young frame 
 was tired of its inactivity. She wanted to run 
 and jump. Mamie would always be something 
 of a little girl. 
 
 " Come," she said, springing up and holding 
 out her hand to Max, " I want to show you my 
 June rose that has blossomed in October in 
 honor of the bride, I suppose." 
 
 Three pairs of eyes watched them as they 
 went laughing away over the lawn together. 
 
 " Do you imagine there is any thing serious 
 in that ? " asked Dr. Yail of Frank, in a very 
 low voice, with a significant nod at the pair. 
 
 Frank started, her cheeks flushing. 
 
 " "Why, I never thought of it ! " she said.
 
 228 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 " Nor I until Lily Cameron gave me a hint 
 of it. She was hoping it might be." 
 
 Frank did not reply, but the smile about her 
 lips grew very tender, and a sudden joyfulness 
 shone in her eyes. It was such a happy, happy 
 thought. She had always wanted Max for a 
 brother. She was very quiet, watching Mamie's 
 white dress as it fluttered in and out among the 
 bright leaves, and listening to the music of her 
 "\ight, girlish laughter with ears that heard not 
 /nd eyes that saw not, for her heart had flut- 
 tered up into communion with that great Heart 
 of Love, like a singing bird, trilling out its 
 grateful thanksgiving for the suggestion of this 
 new blessing. 
 
 In the study Frank's gentle mother was wip- 
 ing away a few quiet tears. 
 
 " It is a hard thing to give up our emidren 
 into other hands when they have become such a 
 joy to us," she said to her husband. 
 
 Dr. Farington arose and looked earnestly into 
 the blue eyes of the wife he had loved so long. 
 All the pain and the worry had gone out of 
 them, and there was a rainbow-light shining 
 through their tears to-day. 
 
 " My love, it cannot be that you are grieviug
 
 KAINBOWS. 229 
 
 because God is calling them to useful lives!" 
 he said, smiling. 
 
 " No, O no ! It is only my selfishness. We 
 have every thing to be thankful for. He has 
 crowned us with his tender mercies." 
 
 " He has given us good measure, pressed 
 down, and running over," said her husband, rev- 
 erently. "Let us go out and see the sunset, 
 Alice." 
 
 And so they all stood, watching together as 
 the great sun went sinking away to his royal 
 rest on crimson pillows. No one spoke, for 
 each heart was full of its own thoughts. 
 
 In the youthful pair on the lowest step of 
 the piazza a faint something was stirring a 
 vague, intangible dream, perhaps, of a bliss that 
 was to be. 
 
 Frank and the doctor, standing hand in hand 
 above them, were gazing past the sunset gates 
 into the life that lay before them, concealed yet 
 radiant, overshadowed as it was by the golden 
 wings of God's promises. 
 
 The minister and his wife, looking into each 
 other's eyes, in their wisdom and experience, 
 smiled upon the young faces around them, not 
 skeptically, but in hope, knowing that, though
 
 230 SMALL THINGS. 
 
 hard, rough paths lay before the bounding feet, 
 if they were wise in that wisdom that teaches 
 peace, there was nothing to fear for them in the 
 shrouded future. 
 
 And the dim old eyes in the rocking-chair 
 were looking through the sunset land into the 
 perfect blue of that unclouded country where 
 each soul shall drink of the fountain of eternal 
 youth and rejoice in the exuberance of eternal 
 health. 
 
 " It is going to be beautiful to-morrow," said 
 Frank, breaking the silence with her happy 
 voice. 
 
 " I suppose you think that all your days are 
 going to be beautiful after this ? " laughed 
 Mamie. 
 
 " On the contrary, I expect to meet my full 
 share of storms," said Frank, smiling content- 
 edly. 
 
 "But, I have no doubt, you have the pre- 
 sumption to imagine that there will always be a 
 rainbow ? " interrupted Max, a little saucily. 
 
 " I believe there always will," interrupted 
 Frank, thoughtfully, " but I have not the self- 
 confidence to believe I shall always see it." 
 
 " You can always see it if you keep the mist
 
 RAINBOWS. 231 
 
 of the storm out of your eyes," said Ur. Faring- 
 ton ; " and," he added, looking from the shining 
 eyes of to-morrow's bride into all those around 
 him, " if I were to ask a blessing for you two 
 who are just entering life together, and for all 
 the rest of us, it would be, ' God grant us clear 
 eyes to catch a glimpse of every rainbow he 
 puts in our sky ! ' ' 
 
 And Miss Sarepta echoed softly, " Aineu ! " 
 
 THE END.