Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha

Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection - Finley Martha


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other folks that isn't inclined to listen to him."

      "He may be a Christian; I hope he is," returned Effie, "though it is very difficult for me to realize that a man has much true love to Christ and for souls, when his tone and manner are utterly indifferent and business like (or perhaps that isn't quite the right word; for men generally show some interest in their business).

      "Besides it requires other things in addition to conversion to fit a man for teaching; he must have knowledge and the ability to impart it.

      "I have nothing against Mr. Smith personally, but he does not instruct me, does not give me any food for thought, or help me on my way to heaven. So I felt it my duty to object to having him become my pastor. But I haven't been going about slandering him, and don't know why you come and talk to me in this way.

      "It strikes me, too, that you are the last person to do it—as I have heard you say far harder things of other ministers than ever I've said of him."

      An angry flush rose in the sallow cheek of the spinster at that.

      "I've tried to do my duty always," she said, bridling. "I've never indulged in any vanities of dress; but that's been one of your sins, Effie Prescott; bows and even flowers and feathers on your bonnets, and knots of bright ribbon at your throat and in your hair. It's sinful and you may depend you'll be afflicted till you'll give up and be consistent in all things."

      "I know better than you can tell me, that I deserve all I suffer and a great deal more," said the girl humbly, tears gathering in her eyes; "but for all that I don't believe you are right. You are a Job's comforter, and God reproved those men for talking so to him.

      "And don't you remember what Jesus said about trying to take the mote out of your brother's eye while there is a beam in your own?"

      "I see its time for me to go," said Damaris, rising.

      She stood a moment looking at Effie, her lips compressed, her face white and her eyes ablaze with rage.

      "There's no Christian spirit about you," she hissed, "you don't like faithful dealing; you don't want to be told of your sins. Very well, Miss, I wash my hands of you; I shake off the dust of my feet against you."

      And with arms folded on her breast and head erect, she stalked out of the house, leaving the invalid girl quivering from head to foot with nervous excitement and distress, crying and laughing hysterically.

      "Oh dear! oh dear!" she sighed to herself. "I haven't behaved in a Christian manner; I was angry at what she said."

      Mrs. Prescott and Mrs. Keith were strolling in from the garden, chatting pleasantly of their domestic affairs, when an infant's screams were heard coming from a back room.

      "There, my baby is awake and calling for his mother," said Mrs. Prescott. "Please excuse me a minute. Just step into the parlor again and talk with Effie."

      Mrs. Keith complied and found Effie alone, lying back in her chair, trembling, flushed and tearful.

      "My poor child! are you suffering very much?" she asked, bending over her and smoothing her hair with a caressing motion.

      "No, ma'am, I'm not worse—only—it was something that Damaris said; and that I didn't take it quite as I ought.

      "Oh, Mrs. Keith, do you think God sends sickness to punish us for our sins? and that my health is poor because I'm more wicked than anybody who is well?"

      "Certainly not. I have excellent health as a general thing, while many an eminent saint has been a great sufferer.

      "We know that sin brought disease and death into the world and that God sometimes sends afflictions as chastisements; but to his own people it is in love and for their growth in grace.

      "'As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous therefore and repent.' 'Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons.'

      "Remembering that, would you wish to escape it?"

      "Oh no, no! But oh, it makes the burden so much heavier to think that it is because He is angry with me!"

      "It is because he loves you. Do not look at it as punishment, but as discipline; as the cutting and carving which are necessary to bring out the beautiful statue from the shapeless block of marble, or to change the diamond in the rough to the brilliant sparkling gem.

      "As to the idea that the Christian bears any part of the penalty of his sins—atoning for them by his own suffering, or his works, or in any other way, either in this life or the next,—it is totally unscriptural. 'For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.'"

      "O, thank you, so much, so very much!" she exclaimed, looking up gratefully. "What wonderful love His was, and who would not be willing to bear any suffering to be made like unto Him?"

      "That is unquestionably a Christian spirit," said Mrs. Keith; "none but those who have felt the burden of sin and learned to hunger and thirst after righteousness know that ardent desire for conformity to His image."

      "You make my heart glad!" cried the girl. "Damaris just told me there was no Christian spirit about me; and I'm often afraid there isn't; yet I do love Jesus and desire His love more than anything else. I want to do and suffer all His holy will!"

      Little Mary Chetwood, a sweet child of six, was the only daughter except Claudina, and coming after some half dozen boys, naturally became, from the first, a great pet and darling, made much of by parents, sister and brothers.

      Yet she was not a spoiled child; she had been taught obedience, religiously trained, and not indulged to her hurt.

      Love and wise indulgence do no harm, but quite the contrary; while harshness, a dearth of affection, and undue severity have ruined many a one for time and eternity.

      Mrs. Keith found the Chetwoods a distressed household; for though the little girl had been but two days ill, such was the violence of the attack that it was already apparent that there was small hope of recovery.

      "This is kind," whispered Mrs. Chetwood, pressing her friend's hand, while tears coursed down her cheeks. "The darling won't be tended by any body but mother, father or sister, but your very presence is a comfort."

      "I should have been here sooner, but did not know of her illness till this afternoon," Mrs. Keith responded in the same subdued key. "If I can be of any use, I will take off my bonnet and stay; it is perfectly convenient."

      The offer was gratefully accepted, a note dispatched to Mildred, entrusting the children at home to her care till such time as her mother could be of no more service at the squire's, and Mrs. Keith's gentle ministries in the sick room began.

      Her quiet movements, her thoughtfulness, quick comprehension and fertility of resource, made her invaluable at such a time.

      The end came sooner than was expected; day was just breaking when, with her head on the bosom of her who gave her birth, the little one gently breathed her last.

      In all the trying scenes that followed, Mr. and Mrs. Keith and Mildred were most kind, helpful and sympathizing, and the ties of Christian friendship were thus more closely drawn than ever between the two families.

      The bereaved family found their home sadly desolated, but there was no murmuring against the Hand that dealt the blow; the language of their hearts was, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."

      Chapter Twenty-second.

       Table of Contents

      "Hail! independence, hail! heaven's next best gift,

       To that of life, and an immortal soul."

       —Thomson.

      "There is strength,

       Deep bedded in our hearts, of which we reck

      


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