MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – Timeless Children Classics & Other Novels. Finley Martha
cup, "Horace, my friend, farewell till we meet in a better land. Elsie, darling," laying her pale thin hand on the bowed head, "you have been a dear, dear daughter to me, such a comfort, such a blessing! May the Lord reward you."
Elsie had much ado to control her feelings. Her father passed his arm about her waist and made her rest her head upon his shoulder.
"Mother, how are you now?" asked Mr. Travilla, coming in and taking his place on his wife's other side, close by the bed of the dying one.
"All is peace, peace, the sweetest peace, I have nothing to do but to die, I am in the river, but the Lord upholdeth me with His hand, and I have almost reached the farther shore."
She then asked for the babe, kissed and blessed it, and bade her son good-bye.
"Sing to me, children, the twenty-third psalm."
Controlling their emotion by a strong effort, that they might minister to her comfort, they sang; the three voices blending in sweet harmony.
"Thank you," she said again, as the last strain died away. "Hark! I hear sweeter, richer melody, the angels have come for me, Jesus is here. Lord Jesus receive my spirit."
There was an enraptured upward glance, an ecstatic smile, then the eyes closed and all was still; without a struggle or a groan the spirit had dropped its tenement of clay and sped away on its upward flight.
It was like a translation; a deep hush filled the room, while for a moment they seemed almost to see the "glory that dwelleth in Immanuel's land." They scarcely wept, their joy for her, the ransomed of the Lord, almost swallowing up their grief for themselves.
But soon Elsie began to tremble violently, shudder after shudder shaking her whole frame, and in sudden alarm her husband and father led her from the room.
"Oh. Elsie, my darling, my precious wife!" cried Travilla, in a tone of agony, as they laid her upon a sofa in her boudoir, "are you ill? are you in pain?"
"Give way, daughter, and let the tears come," said Mr. Dinsmore, tenderly bending over her and gently smoothing her hair; "it will do you good, bring relief to the overstrained nerves and full heart."
Even as he spoke the barriers which for so many hours had been steadily, firmly resisting the grief and anguish swelling in her breast, suddenly gave way, and tears poured out like a flood.
Her husband knelt by her side and drew her head to a resting-place on his breast, while her father, with one of her hands in his, softly repeated text after text speaking of the bliss of the blessed dead.
She grew calmer. "Don't be alarmed about me, dear Edward, dear papa," she said in her low sweet tones. "I don't think I am ill; and heavy as our loss is, dearest husband, how we must rejoice for her. Let me go and perform the last office of love for her—our precious mother; I am better; I am able."
"No, no, you are not; you must not," both answered in a breath. "Aunt Dinah and Aunt Chloe will do it all tenderly and lovingly as if she had been of their own flesh and blood," added Mr. Travilla, in trembling tones.
Chapter Twentieth
"There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes
For her new-born babe beside her lies;
Oh, heaven of bliss! when the heart o'erflows
With the rapture a mother only knows!" —HENRY WARE, JR.
Mrs. Travilla was laid to rest in their own family burial-ground, her dust sleeping beside that of her husband, and children who had died in infancy; and daily her surviving son carried his little daughter thither to scatter flowers upon "dear grandma's grave."
It was not easy to learn to live without the dear mother; they missed her constantly. Yet was their sorrow nearly swallowed up in joy for her—the blessed dead who had departed to be with Christ in glory and to go no more out forever from that blissful presence.
Their house was not made dark and gloomy, the sunlight and sweet spring air entered freely as of yore. Nor did they suffer gloom to gather in their hearts or cloud their faces. Each was filled with thankfulness for the spared life of the other, and of their darling little daughter.
And scarce a week had passed away since heaven's portals opened wide to the ransomed soul, when a new voice—that of a son and heir—was heard in the old home, and many hearts rejoiced in the birth of the beautiful boy.
"God has sent him to comfort you in your sorrow, dearest," Elsie whispered, as her husband brought the babe—fresh from its first robing by Aunt Chloe's careful hands—and with a very proud and happy face laid it in her arms.
"Yes," he said, in moved tones. "Oh, that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!"
"If mother could only have seen him!" And tears gathered in the soft, sweet eyes of the young mother gazing so tenderly upon the tiny face on her arm.
"She will, one day, I trust; I have been asking for this new darling that he may be an heir of glory: that he may early be gathered into the fold of the good Shepherd."
"And I, too," she said, "have besought my precious Saviour to be the God of my children also from their birth."
"What do you intend to call your son?"
"What do you?" she asked, smiling up at him.
"Horace, for your father, if you like."
"And I had thought of Edward, for his father and yours. Horace Edward. Will that do?"
"I am satisfied, if you are. But Edward would do for the next."
"But he may never come to claim it," she said, laughing. "Is papa in the house?"
"Yes, and delighted to learn that he has a grandson."
"Oh, bring him here and let me see the first meeting between them."
"Can you bear the excitement?"
"I promise not to be excited; and it always does me good to see my dear father."
Mr. Dinsmore came softly in, kissed very tenderly the pale face on the pillow, then took a long look at the tiny pink one nestling to her side.
"Ah, isn't he a beauty? I have made you two grand-fathers now, you dear papa!" she said, indulging in a little jest to keep down the emotions tugging at her heart-strings. "Do you begin to feel old and decrepit, mon père?"
"Not very," he said smiling, and softly smoothing her hair; "not more so to-day than I did yesterday. But now I must leave you to rest and sleep. Try, my darling, for all our sakes, to be very prudent, very calm and quiet."
"I will, papa; and don't trouble about me. You know I am in good hands. Ah, stay a moment! here is Edward bringing wee bit Elsie to take her first peep at her little brother."
"Mamma," cried the child; stretching out her little arms towards the bed, "mamma, take Elsie."
"Mamma can't, darling; poor mamma is so sick," said Mr. Travilla; "stay with papa."
"But she shall kiss her mamma, dear, precious little pet," Elsie said. "Please hold her close for a minute, papa, and let her kiss her mother."
He complied under protest, in which Mr. Dinsmore joined, that he feared it would be too much for her; and the soft baby hands patted the wan cheeks, the tiny rosebud mouth was pressed again and again to the pale lips with rapturous cooings, "Mamma, mamma!"
"There, pet, that will do," said her father. "Now, see what mamma has for you."
"Look, mother's darling," Elsie said with a glad smile, exposing to view the tiny face by her side.
"Baby!" cried the little girl, with a joyous shout, clapping her chubby hands, "pretty baby Elsie take"; and the small arms were held