Hesper, the Home-Spirit. Doten Lizzie
that Hesper felt unwilling to disturb him.
“May be,” she thought, “he is dreaming of the angels, and what a pity it will be for me to bring him back from their blessed company.” She lightly raised the golden ringlets from his round, fair cheeks, and regarded him with a look of intense interest. To this thoughtful girl there had always been an unfathomable mystery in the silence which brooded over the soul of her unfortunate brother. She felt, without understanding, that there was something, away down in the depths of his being, quietly waiting its own due time for utterance, and until that time came, he must remain a simple, inexperienced child. At times, a strange feeling of wonder and religious awe would come over her, as she regarded him, for an almost angelic expression would sweep across his countenance, and in his large, blue eyes, there would be such a deep and tender light, that it almost made her weep. She looked upon him as something holy, and in return, the child attached himself to her with an affection which knew no change or diminution. To-night he had sat up unusually late for him, and now his slumber was so deep and quiet, that she found it very difficult to arouse him. He did not resist her, however, as she raised him up tenderly and undressed him; for he was so heavy with sleep he could scarce stand, and really did not know when Hesper tucked up his bed and gave him a good-night kiss. The poor girl herself was very tired, but she had one more duty to perform, which to her was always pleasant. She drew up the little table, and taking a book from the drawer, seated herself upon the side of her mother’s bed.
“Read quite low,” said her mother, “so as not to disturb your father.” They both thought he was asleep, but he heard every word they said. Hesper read on very slowly and thoughtfully, till she came to the words, “Charity never faileth.” Aunt Nyna had spoken to her of this particular chapter while they were together in the garden, and therefore she had selected it. “Mother,” she said, as she laid down the book, “I think love does fail, sometimes, for I have tried very hard to love and please father, but he never likes anything that I do.” Her mother sighed deeply, and the tears came into her eyes, as she looked up in the face of the good child.
“It don’t mean that, Hesper. Love often fails in what it attempts. But it does mean, that under all difficulties or discouragements, true love never fails or grows weary, but remains the same forever and ever. It is just like God himself.”
“Then,” said Hesper, as she glanced towards her father, “I will not mind it much if he doesn’t love me, for it will make me very happy if in one little thing I can be like God.”
“Your father wasn’t always so, Hesper,” said her mother, as the tears streamed down her pale cheeks. She turned her face over into her pillow, and while Hesper was finishing the chapter, she thought of the first years of their wedded life. Then her husband was strong and healthy, and they had a little cottage of their own, with holly-hocks blooming by the door, and roses at the window. Next came long years of suffering and sorrow, when both were broken down in health and spirits, and they had not bread enough to fill the little hungry mouths that cried out for it. No wonder he became gloomy and sad, and said at times that his children would be better off in their graves. It was no uncommon thing. Thousands of poor men had felt just so before him. Only the brave heart of a Christian can bear poverty cheerfully.
Hesper had finished reading some time, and sat waiting for her mother to speak, but as she did not, she supposed she was asleep. “Good night, mother,” she whispered, for it was a comfort to the tender-hearted child to speak the words, even though they were not heard. Her mother raised her head.
“Good night,” she replied, and putting her arms about Hesper’s neck, she kissed her.
Mr. Greyson turned away his face quickly, for he was heart-stricken at what he had heard, and he could not bear to see their mutual love. The next moment Hesper passed him on her way to her chamber, and he longed to call her back and speak kindly, but something, he knew not what, restrained him.
It was not till the poor girl sank down upon her pillow, that she was conscious of being very weary. Her head ached with thinking, and her limbs with long continued action; but it was a sweet consolation to know that she had done all her duty. The moon shone in at the little window near the foot of her bed, and as she looked out, she could see the top of “Cottage Hill” covered with neat white houses and finely cultivated gardens. Beyond this was the “Rolling Mill,” where her father and Mose worked. The noise of the machinery could be heard at a great distance, and day and night the red flames were pouring constantly from the tops of the tall chimnies. As Hesper was watching this, a thought came to her suddenly. “Why!” she exclaimed, as she started to her feet in an instant – “Poor Mose hasn’t had a morsel of supper!” In a few moments she was dressed and went softly down stairs. Her father still sat in his great chair with his eyes closed, but even then he was not asleep. She stole very gently into the pantry, and wrapped up some broad slices of bread and meat which were left from her father’s supper. Then she warmed some tea and poured into it the last drop of milk from her own bowl, of which, as yet, she had not tasted. When all was ready she wrapped her mother’s great shawl about her, and carefully unbolted the door.
“Hesper,” said her father, “where are you going?”
She was very sorry he had heard her, for she feared he would not allow her to go out so late at night.
“Only to carry Mose some supper, if you please, sir,” she said very meekly. “Poor Mose! I am afraid he will faint before morning, if he does not have some.”
“That is right; you are a good girl, Hesper,” he said in a pleasant tone.
O, how those few, gently spoken words made her heart throb, and with what joyful tears in her eyes did she spring from the door-step! Never had she known him to speak so kindly before, and her whole affectionate nature was drawn towards him in a moment.
CHAPTER IV.
MOSE
Hesper was quite at a loss what to do, when she came to the great door of the Rolling Mill. The dress of the workmen – the red light shining on their faces – the dazzling brightness from the furnaces, and the deep, gloomy blackness of the more remote parts of the building, all appeared so wild and strange, that she dared not enter. Every few moments the doors of the furnaces would be raised, and a large, glowing mass of red hot iron taken out, which was drawn quickly between rollers of various sizes. Great showers of sparks flew in all directions, and the voices of the workmen had a strange, unnatural sound as they shouted to one another amid the roar and din of the ponderous machinery. Hesper quite despaired of ever finding Mose amid all this confusion, and she longed to see some one of whom she could inquire.
“What’s that, over in the corner yonder?” said one of the workmen to another, pointing towards Hesper.
“Well,” said his companion, after a moment’s pause, “I am not quite certain, but if it wasn’t so late, I should take it to be a little girl.”
“Some stray child, I suppose,” said the first – “I’ll go speak to her.”
“Do you wish for anything, my little maid?” he asked kindly.
“Please, sir,” said Hesper, curtseying, “can you tell me where my brother, Moses Greyson is?”
“I will see,” he replied, and he went to Mr. Brown, the overseer.
“Follow me, my little lady,” said Mr. Brown, “and I will point him out to you. The poor fellow was pretty well tired, and I told him he had better rest awhile.”
They went out of the mill, and passed along the borders of the stream, by which the machinery was turned.
“There he is, yonder,” said Mr. Brown, and as Hesper looked in the direction in which he pointed, she saw Mose sitting upon a log near the mill-dam. She thanked Mr. Brown as he left her, and then stole up softly behind her brother. He had an old coat thrown over his shoulders – his elbows rested upon his knees, and his face was covered with his hands.
“Poor fellow,” thought Hesper, “how tired and hungry he must be!” She gathered up her great shawl, and then clasped her arm closely about his neck.
“What are you thinking about, Mose?”