Dick and Brownie Part 16

"Sing that one about the green hill without any wall round it," Aunt Emma said one day. "It does mind me so of 'ome when we were children. Our cottage was just at the foot of a hill like that, and mother used to turn us out there to play together by the hour.

It was what they call a mountain. We used to dare each other to go to the top."

"Did you ever do it?" asked Huldah, plaiting away industriously.

"Never; we was so afraid. It was so high up, and the top looked so far away, and--oh, it used to frighten me! I'd dream at night that I was lost up there, and I'd call and call, and n.o.body ever heard me or came to save me."

"_He'd_ have saved, if you'd asked Him," said Huldah, gravely.

"I wonder why He didn't save Himself," said Aunt Emma. "I spose He could have, couldn't He?"

"Oh yes, He could, and He could have struck all His enemies down dead if He'd liked, only He was always one for thinking about others, never about Himself."

"And that's the sort that always gets put upon," said Aunt Emma, quickly.

"He died that we might go to Heaven, He died to make us good, He died that we might be forgiven--"

Aunt Emma's voice failed, and she suddenly burst into tears.

"I couldn't never be good enough," she sobbed, piteously. "I haven't been good since I was a child, and now I'm going to die--I know it, I feel it, I see it in the doctor's face, and--and everybody's.

I've got to die, and just when I'm happy for the first time.

He says He loves everybody, but n.o.body ever loved me, I never gave 'em reason to, and--and I'm afraid to die, Huldah! I've been so bad, and it'll be so lonely! I wouldn't mind so much if there was somebody over--over the other side that loved me."

There had been a footstep on the stair, but neither of them had heard it, and when Miss Rose entered the room neither of them saw her, for their eyes were blinded with tears.

"Oh, Aunt Emma!" cried Huldah, springing to her bedside, "I love you!

I do, I do, and--and oh, I wish someone would tell you all about it, so that you'd understand, and feel happy!"

A soft, light step crossed the room, and a gentle hand was laid on Huldah's bowed head. "Dear, shall I try? Shall we try together?"

Huldah sprang to her feet with a glad cry. "Oh, Miss Rose, I was longing for you to come. You can tell Aunt Emma."

Miss Rose sat down beside the bed, and laid her hand gently on Emma's hand. "I wish I was more clever," she said, wistfully. "I wish I could make you feel how dearly Jesus has always loved you, how He has wept for you and longed for you, how He has forgiven you all the neglect and insults you have heaped on Him, and has held out His arms, beseeching you to come to Him! At this very moment He is standing at the door, patiently waiting for you to let Him in.

Will you keep Him outside, dear Emma?"

Miss Rose's voice died away, and silence reigned in the darkening room; the fire fell together and sent up a cheerful flame, Emma Smith lay thinking,--"Was it really true that He wanted her?" That she had turned her back on Him, and mocked and insulted Him, she knew, knew better than anyone else could,--and could He really love her in spite of all?

Miss Rose's voice broke the silence, singing softly,

"Knocking, knocking, who is there?

Waiting, waiting, oh, how fair!

'Tis a Pilgrim, strange and kingly, Never such was seen before; Ah, my soul, for such a wonder Wilt thou not undo the door?

Knocking, knocking--what, still there?

Waiting, waiting, grand and fair, Yes, the pierced hand still knocketh, And beneath the crowned hair Beam the patient eyes, so tender, Of the Saviour, waiting there."

Low sobs broke from the poor soul on the bed, sobs of grief and joy and repentance. "If He really cares--if He is really like that!" she sobbed. "Oh, I want Him! I do want Him to love and take care of me, too!"

Miss Rose's arms were round her, her lips were on her brow.

"My dear, He is all that, and more. He will take care of you always, in this world and the next. He will love you so that you cannot feel lonely any more. Put your hand in His, put all your troubles off on His shoulders, trust Him, and follow where He leads you, and nothing can harm you. Don't be afraid. He will lead you to a home, and love and happiness such as no one could know in this world, where we are all so weak and full of faults."

"Home! Will it seem like home?" she asked, timidly.

"I'll soon be at home, over there, For the end of my journey I see, Many dear to my heart over there Are watching and waiting for me, Over there, over there, I'll soon be at home over there."

sang Huldah, softly. The flame died down, and left the room very dim, but still the three sat on, silent, thoughtful. Miss Rose sat between them, holding a hand of each.

"I expect 'twas Him as led me back to Huldah," said the weak voice, presently.

"Yes, dear. He was bringing you together, that all might be made happy between you."

"I am very glad He did. 'Twas more'n I deserved--after the way I'd treated one of His."

Huldah threw herself across the bed, her arms thrown round the dying woman. "Aunt Emma--Aunt Emma, don't! That's all forgotten.

I deserved what I got. It's all over now; don't let's remember it any more!"

"Will you tell--Him you've forgiven me?"

"Yes, oh yes; but He knows, there's no need to tell Him. He knows we love each other now,--oh, Aunt Emma, if you can only get well, how happy we shall be!"

Miss Rose got up and stirred the fire to a blaze again. Her heart was glad, yet sad. Glad that this poor soul was coming to her Father, but at the same time sad, for she knew how little hope there was of Huldah's wish coming to pa.s.s. It was sweet, though, to the dying woman to hear the wish from the child she had ill-treated and neglected so long, and she clasped her to her in a paroxysm of love.

For a moment they lay thus, then Miss Rose put a handful of wood on the fire, and made the blaze grow bright and brisk.

"I am not going to talk any more now," she said, cheerily, "or let you talk, Emma, or I shall have a scolding from the doctor, but I am going to ask you and Huldah to give me a cup of tea, here in the firelight. Then, after that, I am going to tell you a little piece of news."

CHAPTER XII.

HAPPY HOURS.

The bed was wheeled up to the fireplace, the tea table and two chairs were grouped about the hearth, and there they had their last meal together in happy peacefulness.

A sense of quiet rested on them all, a shade of awe, of feelings so deep that ordinary chatter would have seemed out of place. Emma Smith's thoughts were still lingering about that figure standing outside the door, "Knocking, knocking." She must have seen a picture once of that figure with the patient, tender eyes, knocking at a fast-closed door, but she had never troubled to ask who it was.

Now it all seemed close, He was so real. It was ordinary, everyday life that seemed unreal now, that began to seem to her so far away.

Huldah was drawing bright pictures in her mind of days when the spring would come, and Aunt Emma would be stronger and able to walk about; they would be able to go and see Aunt Martha sometimes.

Her thoughts dwelt lovingly on Aunt Martha and d.i.c.k. She saw them seldom now, the storms and the rough roads kept Aunt Martha at home, and Huldah could not leave her Aunt Emma.

So busy was she with her thoughts that she forgot all about Miss Rose's promised piece of news, until, when the tea was over, Miss Rose spoke of it again.

"You must light the lamp now, brownie. I want to talk to your aunt.

There is someone wanting to see her,--someone that she wants to see, I think."

Emma Smith turned quickly, an eager light flas.h.i.+ng over her face.

"Is it--Tom?" she asked, excitedly.

"Yes--your husband. He has behaved so well he got his discharge as soon as it was possible, and he has come in search of you."