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From Jest to Earnest

<h1 id="id01852" style="margin-top: 6em">CHAPTER XXIII.</h1> <h5 id="id01853">A RATIONALIST OF THE OLD SCHOOL.</h5> "I knew you would come," said Mrs. Dlimm, taking both of Lottie's hands with utter absence of formality. "Husband said I needn't look for you any more, but I felt it in my bones—no, my heart—that you would come. When I feel a thing is going to take place it always does. So you are here. I am very glad to see your—Mr. Hemstead—too. This is splendid." And Mrs. Dlimm exultantly ushered Lottie into the room that, when last seen, was crowded with such a motley assembly. Hemstead meanwhile drove the horse to an adjacent shed. "But he isn't my Mr. Hemstead," said Lottie, laughing. "Well, it seems as if he were related, or belonged to you in some way. When I think of one, I can't help thinking of the other." "O dear!" exclaimed Lottie, still laughing, blushing, and affecting comic alarm; "being joined together by a minister's wife is almost as bad as by the minister himself." "Almost as good, you mean. You would have my congratulation rather than sympathy if you secured such a prince among men." "How little you know about him, Mrs. Dlimm! He is going to be a poor, forlorn home missionary; and your husband's increased salary will be royal compared with his." "He will never be forlorn; and how long will he be poor?" —"All his life possibly." "That's not very long. What will come after? What kind of a master is he serving?" "Do you know," said Lottie, lowering her tone, and giving her chair a little confidential hitch toward the simple-hearted lady with whom formality and circumlocution were impossible, "that I am beginning to think about these things a great deal?" "I don't wonder, my dear," said Mrs. Dlimm, with a little sigh of satisfaction. "No one could help thinking about him who saw his manly courtesy and tact the evening you were here." "O, no," said Lottie, blushing still more deeply; "I did not mean that. Please understand me. Mr. Hemstead is only a chance acquaintance that I have met while visiting my aunt, Mrs. Marchmont. I mean that when I was here last I was a very naughty girl, but I have since been thinking how I could be a better one. Indeed, I should like to be a Christian, as you are." In a moment the little lady was all tender solicitude. She was one who believed in conversion; and, to her, being converted was the greatest event of life. But just then Hemstead entered, and she had enough natural, womanly interest—not curiosity—to note the unconscious welcome of Lottie's eyes, and the quick color come and go in her face, as if a fire were burning in her heart and throwing its flickering light upon her fair features. "Chance acquaintance, indeed!" she thought. "Why, here is this city-bred girl blushing as I once did about Mr. Dlimm. Whether she knows it or not, her blushes must tell the same story as mine." But though Mrs. Dlimm was so unconventional, she had tact, and turned the conversation to the subject of the donation party. "See here," she exclaimed exultantly, tugging a bulky commentary; "this is one of the results of your coming the other evening. Mr. Dlimm has been wanting this book a long time, and now he pores over it so much that I am getting jealous." "The opinions expressed in such a ponderous volume ought to have great weight, surely," said Hemstead, smiling. "And do you know," she continued, in an aside to Lottie, "that each of the children has had a new warm winter suit? and, wonderful to tell, I have bought myself a dress right from the store, instead of making over something sent me by brother Abel's wife from New York." Lottie's eyes moistened, and she said in half soliloquy, "I didn't know it was so nice and easy to make others happy." "Ah! depend upon it, you are learning lots of things," said Mrs. Dlimm, significantly. "When God begins to teach, then we do learn, and something worth knowing, too." "I thought that God's lessons were very hard and painful," said Lottie to Hemstead, with a spice of mischief in her manner. "Mrs. Dlimm is a better authority than I was," he replied. "Do you know," he continued, addressing their hostess, "that Miss Marsden has done more to teach me how to preach than all my years at the seminary?" "Surely," exclaimed Mrs. Dlimm, "that's a rather strong statement. I can understand how Miss Marsden can do a great deal for one. We have had very nice experience in that direction; but just how she should teach you more than all the grave professors and learned text-books is not clear at once." "Well, she has," he maintained stoutly. "I doubt whether your husband gets as much light upon the Bible from that huge commentary there as Miss Marsden gave me in one afternoon." Mrs. Dlimm turned her eyes inquiringly toward Lottie, who said, laughingly, "It would seem, last week, that I was a heathen and Mr. Hemstead a heretic." "And what are you now?" "O, he's all right now." "And not you?" "I fear I shall always be a little crooked; but I hope I am not exactly a heathen any longer." "Miss Marsden was a heathen, as Nathanael was a shrewd and dishonest Jew," said Hemstead. "What kind of a Jew was Nathanael?" asked Lottie, innocently. "Christ said, when he first saw him," replied Mrs. Dlimm, smiling, "'Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.'" Then both were puzzled at Lottie's sudden and painful flush, but they ascribed it to her modesty; and Hemstead, to give her time to recover herself, gave a brief sketch of his sermon, and how, in the afternoon, while reading, at Lottie's suggestion, the complete story of Lazarus, they both had seen the unspeakable sympathy of Christ for those He sought to save. "O dear!" thought Lottie, "when shall I escape the consequences of my foolish jest? 'Without guile,' indeed!" Mr. Dlimm now appeared, and he and Hemstead were soon discussing the rendering of an obscure passage, upon which the big commentary gave the conflicting opinions of a dozen learned doctors. Mrs. Dlimm carried Lottie off to her sanctum, the nursery,—the fruitful source of questions and mysteries the learned doctors would find still more difficult to solve. "And you are contented with this narrow round of life?" asked Lottie, curiously, as Mrs. Dlimm finished the narration of what seemed to her very tame experience. "Narrow!" said Mrs. Dlimm, reproachfully; "my life and work are not narrow. I have six little immortals to train. A million years hence they will either bless or reproach me. What consideration in fashionable life is equal to that? Besides, my husband is engaged in the same kind of work that brought the Son of God from heaven to earth. It is my privilege to help him. Scrub Oaks is as much of a place as many of the villages in which He preached, and I am grateful that I can take part in so royal a calling." "Mrs. Dlimm," said Lottie, with sudden animation, "I shouldn't wonder if you and your husband were very great people in heaven." "Oh!" cried the little lady, laughing. "We never think of that. Why should we? But I know there will be a nook there for us, and the thought makes me very happy." "And you really and truly have been happy in all your toil and privations?" "Yes," said Mrs Dlimm, with a strange, far-away look coming into her large blue eyes; "when everything on earth has been darkest I have been most happy, and this has confirmed my faith. Little children are sources of great joy, but they also cause much pain and anxiety. Yet when I have been suffering most,—when the wardrobe has been scanty and the larder almost bare,—God has taken me to His heart as I clasp this child here, and comforted by assuring me, 'Never fear, my child, I will take care of you and yours.' See how He keeps His word. He sent you here, with your bright, sunny face. He sent Mr. Hemstead here; and between you both we shall make a long stage of our homeward journey most pleasantly." "I never heard any one talk like you before," said Lottie, musingly. "You seem to believe all the Bible says, as if it were actually right before you." "Believe! Why not? The idea of God not keeping His word!" "And is faith just the certainty that God will keep His word?" "That is just faith; and though this great world—for little bits of which people lose their souls—shall pass away, God's word shall stand until His least promise is fulfilled." "That is not our creed on Fifth Avenue," said Lottie sadly. "The world first, God last. But you sometimes, surely, wish that Mr. Dlimm was rich, and that you could have for him and the children and yourself all that heart could wish?" "I used to feel so occasionally, but I have got past that now. God loves my husband and children better than I do, and He will provide what is best for us all. I simply try to rest in His arms as this child does in mine." "How strange it all is!" said Lottie, thoughtfully. "Why strange? Your earthly father provides for you the best he can; and if our Heavenly Father provides for us in the same way, surely will not His be the better provision? What an absurd, unnatural thing it is to suppose there is anything better than what God will give His own dear children. Are not both earth and heaven His? and He has promised the best of both to us." "I can scarcely realize it all yet," said Lottie, with tears in her eyes. "I suppose it is because you are so natural and true that you seem so odd to me, who have been brought up among those that I fear look at things in false lights." "I think I understand you, my dear," said Mrs. Dlimm, hopefully. "A child's penny toy will hide a great mountain if held too near the eyes. It is thus the eyes of the worldly are blinded by trifles till I fear some will never see God or heaven. But He is teaching you better. As long as you follow His gentle leadings, and the pure impulses of your own heart, all will be well. But as soon as you begin to take counsel of the world and its self-seeking spirit, you will find yourself in trouble. If we wish to prosper and be happy in God's world, we must do His will. This is good, sound common sense, which the experience of every age has borne out. It often seems hard at first, my dear, as you will find out. The scourging was very hard to bear; but Paul and Silas, singing in prison, with their feet made fast in the stocks, were better off than their jailer, who was about to kill himself, and the magistrates, who, no doubt, were in mortal fear because of the earthquake. We, too, can sing, whatever happens, as long as God and conscience are upon our side." It will thus be seen that Mrs. Dlimm was a rationalist as well as a believer, though not of the new school. For some reason, her philosophy was peculiarly acceptable to Lottie, and, though scarcely conscious why, the exhortation to follow the impulses of her own heart seemed especially natural and right; but her fashionable mother would have been alarmed indeed, if she had known that her beautiful daughter was becoming the disciple of Mrs. Dlimm. Though their call was by no means a short one, it passed all too quickly. The memory of it would never fade from Lottie's mind; and it became another link in the chain by which God was seeking to bind her to a better future than her friends could dream of in their earthly ambition. "I am very glad I made this visit," Lottie said, as they were hastening home lest they should be late to dinner. "It was very kind of you to take me so far." He turned and lifted his eyebrows comically. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. "To hear you, one would think that I had been a martyr for your sake, while, in truth, I never enjoyed myself more." "Yes," said she; "but you welcome afflictions and trials of your patience." "Would that I might be ever thus afflicted!" he exclaimed impulsively. Then, suddenly becoming conscious of the natural suggestion of his words, he blushed deeply; but not more so than Lottie, who turned away her face to hide her flaming cheeks. He, misinterpreting the act, thought that she meant a hint that such remarks were not agreeable, and was thinking how to remedy what he now regarded as a very foolish speech, when she, with woman's tact, led the conversation to unembarrassing topics, and before they were aware the horse stopped at Mrs. Marchmont's door. Lottie disarmed both suspicion and censure to a considerable extent by saying, "I had promised Mrs. Dlimm to come and see her again, and wished to keep my word. I knew no one would care to go there save Mr. Hemstead, so I took him to see the parson while I visited the parson's wife. I enjoyed my call very much, too; and as Mr. Hemstead and Mr. Dlimm had a great argument over a knotty theological point, I suppose he feels somewhat repaid also." This put matters in quite another light. That one should go to see a parson's wife, and the other to discuss theology with the parson, was very different from stealing off for an indefinite ride with the purpose of being alone together. De Forrest was quite comforted, and was even inclined to regard Lottie as rather considerate in not asking him to accompany her when visiting such undesirable people as the Dlimms. Though why she should wish to visit them herself was a mystery. But then, he thought, "Lottie is odd and full of queer moods and whims. Let her indulge them now, because, as my wife, they will scarcely be the thing." He was still more comforted by noting that she did not have a great deal to say to Hemstead—indeed, that she rather avoided him. "She has had enough, and too much, of his heavy stupid company," he thought, "and finds that even the carrying out of the practical joke is too hard work. If I can only get another good opportunity, I won't wait till she goes to sleep before bringing the question to an issue." But Lottie gave him no opportunity, and, while kind and gentle toward him, adroitly managed that they should never be alone. And Hemstead also, who had found their private tete-a-tetes so delightful and productive of good results, was equally unable to be alone with her. Not that Lottie was averse, but because she saw that lynx-eyed Bel was watching her; and again for the hundredth time she wished her cynical friend back in the city. Lottie's manner and apparent reserve were so marked at one time that Hemstead began to grow troubled, though why he scarcely knew. There was no cause, save the peculiar sensitiveness of one whose sunshine is beginning to come, not from the skies, but from the changing features of a fellow-mortal. Lottie quickly saw his shadowed face, and surmised the cause. Soon after, when his eyes were questioningly seeking hers, she gave him such a sunny, genial smile as to assure him that, whatever might be the cause of her somewhat distant manner, it did not result from any estrangement from him. Heretofore, when Lottie had liked a gentleman, she had been frank in showing that preference within the limits of lady-like bearing. But, for some reason, she began to grow excessively shy in manifesting any interest in Hemstead that the others could note. The reason with which she satisfied herself explained her feeling but partially. "They will think I am still trying to carry out my wicked, foolish joke." But she did long for another unrestrained talk with him, and watched keenly to secure it without exciting remark. De Forrest did all he could to prevent this, however, and Bel unconsciously became his ally. With woman's quick perception, she saw that Lottie was indulging in something more than a "mood," and felt that it was a duty she owed to her friend to prevent mischief. Thus Monday and Tuesday passed away, Lottie being too circumspect to give Bel sufficient cause for speaking plainly. Dan and Mr. Dimmerly were the only ones of the household who regarded the change in Lottie with unmixed satisfaction. Not giving a thought to the cause, they were pleased with the gentleness and attention which resulted. "Lottie," said her brother Dan, as she kissed him good-night, after telling a marvellously good story, "what has come over you? You make me think of Auntie Jane." "I must be growing good indeed, if I remind any one of Auntie Jane," thought Lottie, exultantly. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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