Frederica and her Guardians Part 19

"Mama is good," said she. "One does not need to be very wise, or to have fine words to offer, in order to be a Christian."

"And you? are you a Christian, dear?"

"I am not good," said Frederica humbly; "but I wish to be, and G.o.d will teach me, and mama also."

"And how long will it take you to learn? a year? two years? And the chances are your mother will not live many months. Will it be well with her, do you think, when she shall go away into another world alone?"

Frederica turned upon him a white face and wide-open eyes of horror.

"Yes," said Selina's soft voice behind them, "it will be well. G.o.d is good, and Christ has died."

Frederica uttered a glad cry, and clasped her sister in her arms.

"Yes," said the priest, "G.o.d is good, and Christ has died. This is our only hope. But then all these years have you been thinking of this?

You have been forgetting G.o.d, and even now you are trusting to your own wisdom to find Him. You are refusing counsel. You are walking in your own ways. Oh! poor ignorant erring children, it is because I love you so much, you and your mother, that I dare to make you unhappy by telling you the truth. I would gladly lead you in the right way."

"Is mama so very ill?" said Frederica, forgetting everything else, in the misery that his words had suggested.

"Do you not see yourselves that she is very ill? Dear children, death is a happy change to those who have the care and blessing of the Church.

Death is nothing of which a Christian need be afraid."

He spoke gently and tenderly, and laid his hand softly on the blind girl's head; but his eyes were hard and angry, and Frederica shrank from him with a repugnance which she did not try to conceal.

"I would so gladly help you," said he again. "It is your happiness I seek, and the happiness of your dear mistaken mother." And in a little he added, "G.o.d bless you with humble minds." And then went silently away.

And he left two very unhappy girls behind him. Could it be that their mother was going to die; and that she had cause to be afraid?

"I never wish to see him again," said Frederica. "He shall never see mama again, if I can prevent it."

But her anger went away with the departure of the priest, and now she was very miserable.

"But, Fred, if it is true that we are all wrong, and that mama is going to die before--"

Selina shuddered.

"Selina! G.o.d is good, and Christ has died; you said it yourself."

"Yes, G.o.d is good. He will teach us."

"And He will take care of mama and all of us. And if mama does not go to heaven, I am sure I do not care to go there either," said Frederica, with a great bout of weeping.

"G.o.d is good, and Christ has died," repeated Selina softly. "He will teach us."

"But I never wish to see Mr Jerome St. Cyr again," said Frederica.

But he came again, just as usual, in a day or two. Mr St. Cyr was there with the mother and the children when he came in, and the brothers exchanged looks of surprise at the encounter, for they had never met in Mrs Vane's house before. Mr St. Cyr looked on with a little amused curiosity to see how his brother would be received.

Very cordially by the young people it seemed, but he noticed a troubled look pa.s.s over the face of their mother; and Frederica rose and went over to her sofa, and took her seat beside her, with an air that seemed to say she needed protection, and she was there to give it. Mr Jerome took no notice of the movement, but occupied himself with Selina and her music, and with the little boys, who soon came in.

Mr St. Cyr asked Frederica about her illness, and her employments and amus.e.m.e.nts, and she told him about Miss Agnace, and how much nicer she was than Mrs Ascot used to be.

"And we all hope she will stay," said Tessie. "But they don't usually let the sisters stay long out of their convents. Do you think they will let her stay?" asked Tessie, addressing Mr Jerome. "Fred did not know she was a sister at first, but she found it out from something she said.

She is very nice, however, and we all hope she may stay."

Mr St. Cyr asked no questions about Miss Agnace; but when his brother rose to go, he rose also. He had something to say to him.

"Who is Sister Agnace? and why is she here?" asked he. "It is not wise in you to wish to make any change in Mrs Vane's family affairs, my brother. You will not succeed."

"I have succeeded already. Miss Agnace has made a great change for the better in this ill-regulated household, especially in the comfort of Mrs Vane. Your little friend is a clever child, but she cannot be expected to act with sense or judgment in certain affairs. She has not been complaining of Miss Agnace has she?"

"By no means. On the contrary, they seem to value her highly. But who is she? Why is she here?"

"Do you not know! Mr Vane advertised for a housekeeper, and she applied. She has excellent references, and he was fortunate in getting her."

"Still you have not answered my question. The sisters are not permitted to answer advertis.e.m.e.nts, and take situations, without some special purpose in view. What was your motive in placing her among these children?"

"A desire to serve them would not seem to you a sufficient motive, I suppose?"

"No," said Mr St. Cyr, with a shrug, "not in your case. You may wish to serve them, but you have another motive. Who is Sister Agnace?"

"A simple, pious, affectionate creature, just the nurse for a nervous invalid like Mrs Vane. See her, and satisfy yourself with regard to her."

"I shall do so," said Mr St. Cyr; "and, my brother, let me say one word to you. Nothing good will come of your trying to gain influence in this house. Mrs Vane has nothing in her power as to the disposal of her father's wealth. All that is quite beyond her power."

"Don't you remember you told me all that long ago? Is it not conceivable that for other reasons I might wish to influence that unhappy woman, who is so near death, and who is so unprepared to meet it? What is her wealth to me, who am not permitted to possess aught beyond the necessaries of life? Why should I wish to influence her, except to turn her thoughts to the G.o.d whom she must soon meet, and of whom she knows nothing? And these poor neglected children! Brother Cyprien, it is terrible to me to see you so indifferent to their highest interests, and your own."

"Let all that pa.s.s. What I wish to say is this--No influence that you may bring to bear on her can possibly make any change in the arrangement of her affairs. The guardians of her children's interests are already chosen by my advice, and with her husband's consent, and they are such men as will not please you. She might change them, it is true, but she will not without my advice. You have already made her unhappy, I think.

It is cruel, and will avail you nothing. This is what I wish you to understand."

"I clearly understand. You will not see that it is only their good I wish for. They have no religion. They are ignorant of the first principles of truth. These young girls are neither fit for this world nor the next. And St. Hubert's grandsons are losing the best years of their life, under the foolish teaching of an ignorant woman."

"That is your opinion," said Mr St. Cyr coldly. "Well, you are not responsible, and need not interfere. No good can come of it to any one concerned."

But he had no fault to find with Miss Agnace when he saw her. She was simple and affectionate, and as far as he could judge, faithful. She was eager for the spiritual good of Mrs Vane and her children, and prayed for them, and told them tales of the saints, and of miracles performed by their relics even at the present day. She took the children with her to ma.s.s, on high days and holidays, and evidently had full faith in the success of her efforts in their behalf at last. But of all this Mr St. Cyr had no fear. Indeed, he might have rejoiced over the prospect of the spiritual change, for which Sister Agnace and his brother were so anxious, in poor Mrs Vane and her children, provided it were a real change, and that no wrong influence were brought to bear upon them to bring it about.

But though Mr St. Cyr was looked upon as a very religious man, he was far more liberal in his opinions, and charitable in his judgments, than the greater number of those who admired his devotion. It did not seem impossible to him that beyond the pale of his own church there might be truth and safety. He knew that Mr Vane was not a religious man. He gave him no credit for religious motives, or even for conscientious motives, in the care with which, in the education of his daughters, he had tried to keep them away from Roman Catholic influence; and it would have troubled him very little on his account that they should leave their father's church. He would not have pitied him, but he would have dreaded the pain to them, the discomfort which their father's anger would bring upon them.

But he was not anxious for them to change. They were good little things, he thought, desirous to do right, and quite as likely to do right by themselves as they would be under such guidance as a change might involve,--such guidance, for instance, as that of his brother Jerome. He did not wish to be hard on his brother, even in his thoughts, but he did not trust him. He did not trust him, either as regarded the means he might use to influence the delicate nervous mother and her children towards a change of faith, or as regarded the end he had in view in desiring such a change.

He cared for their souls, doubtless, and believed them to be in danger, but he cared for something else more. He knew that he coveted some part of the wealth that Mr St. Hubert had left, and which had been acc.u.mulating since his death, for his own purposes; that is, for the purposes of the Church; and he feared that he would not be scrupulous as to the means he made use of to obtain it.

So he went oftener to see them than he had been accustomed to do, and a.s.sured himself of the good faith of Miss Agnace, and listened to the earnest talk of the sisters, and sometimes even to the reading of the Bible. He was amused sometimes, but oftener he was moved and interested, and in his heart prayed to Him whom he believed to be the G.o.d of all who sincerely sought to serve and honour Him, that He might guard, and guide, and keep safe from all evil, these children whom he was learning to love so well.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

September was not a pleasant month this year. There were not the usual clear, bright days, all the lovelier and more enjoyable that the frost in the morning air, and a tinge of brilliant colour here and there among the trees, gave warning that there could not be many more of them in the season. They were hot, oppressive days. The air was close, and the sky was hidden by a thick haze, which told of the coming of a storm.

It was no wonder, the children said, that their mother was worse than usual. Every one felt dull, and languid, and out of sorts. They would all feel better when the rain which had been gathering so many days should come, and it could not be long now. This was what Frederica said to her sister, Mrs Brandon, when she came to see them after her return from the seaside, where she had pa.s.sed the summer. Mrs Brandon a.s.sented, and regretted for baby's sake that she had returned home so soon. She regretted it for another reason. She did not know how to tell the business that had brought her to them that day. Their father had decided not to return home till spring, and had written to her to say that there would be an opportunity for Fred to travel with a Mrs Bury, who was about to return to England, and he wished her to hasten her preparations. Mrs Brandon was to tell Mrs Vane of the change of plan, and to help Fred in all necessary arrangements.