"Sir?"

"You bring your wretched--"

"Oh, I did'nt know I wrote it even, sir! But indeed that is not right, sir. All of us ought to trust in G.o.d, however great our afflictions are, sir."

"Go!" cried the lawyer, rising with a furious gesture--"away, sir!

Preach not to me--you may be right--but take your sermons elsewhere.

Look there, sir! at that portrait!--look at me now, a broken man--think that--but this is folly! Leave me to myself!"

And strangling a pa.s.sionate sob, the lawyer sank again into his chair, covering his face.

CHAPTER LI.

A CHILD AND A LOGICIAN.

To describe the astonishment of Verty, as he hastily went out and closed the door, would be impossible. His face pa.s.sed from red to pale, his eyes were full of bewilderment--he sat down, scarcely knowing what he did,

Roundjacket sat writing at his desk, and either had not heard, or pretended that he had not, any portion of the pa.s.sionate colloquy.

Verty could do nothing all day, for thinking of the astonishing scene he had pa.s.sed through. Why should there be anything offensive in raising the curtain of a portrait? Why should so good a man as Mr.

Rushton, address such insulting and harsh words to him for such a trifling thing? How was it possible that the simple words, 'Trust in G.o.d,' had been the occasion of such anger, nay, almost fury?

The longer Verty pondered, the less he understood; or at least he understood no better than before, which amounted precisely to no understanding at all.

He got through his day after a very poor fashion; and, going along under the evening skies, cudgelled his brains, for the thousandth time, for some explanation of this extraordinary circ.u.mstance. In vain! the explanation never came; and finding himself near Apple Orchard, the young man determined to banish the subject, and go in and see Redbud.

The young girl had been imprudent in remaining out so late, on the preceding evening, and her cold had returned, with slight fever, which, however, gave her little inconvenience.

She lay upon the sofa, near the open window, with a shawl over her feet, and, when Verty entered, half-rose, only giving him her hand tenderly.

Verty sat down, and they began, to talk in the old, friendly way; and, as the evening deepened, to laugh and mention old things which they both remembered--uniting thus in the dim twilight all the golden threads which bind the present to the past--gossamer, which are not visible by the glaring daylight, but are seen when the soft twilight descends on the earth.

Redbud even, at Verty's request, essayed one of the old Scottish songs which he was fond of; and the gentle carol filled the evening with its joy and musical delight. This was rather dangerous in Verty--surely he was quite enough in love already! Why should he rivet the fetters, insist upon a new set of shackles, and a heavier chain!

Verty told Redbud of the singular circ.u.mstance of the morning, and demanded an explanation. Her wonder was as great as his own, however; and she remained silently gazing at the sunset, and pondering. A shake of the head betrayed her want of success in this attempt to unravel the mystery, especially the lawyer's indignation at the words written by Verty.

They pa.s.sed from this to quite a grave discussion upon the truth of the maxim in question, which Redbud and her companion, we may imagine, did not differ upon. The girl had just said--"For you know, Verty, everything is for the best, and we should not murmur,"--when a gruff voice at the door replied:

"Pardon me, Miss Redbud--that is a pretty maxim--nothing more, however."

And Mr. Rushton, cold and impa.s.sable, came in with the jovial Squire.

"So busy talking, young people, that you could not even look out the window when I approach with visitors, eh?" cried the Squire, chuckling Miss Redbud under the chin, and driving the breath out of Verty's body by a friendly slap upon that gentleman's back. "Well, here we are, and there's Lavinia--bless her heart--with an expression which indicates protestation at the loudness of my voice, ha! ha!"

And the Squire laughed in a way which shook the windows.

Miss Lavinia smiled in a solemn manner, and busied herself about tea.

Redbud turned to Mr. Rushton, who had seated himself with an expression of grim reserve, and, smiling, said:

"I did not hear you--exactly what you said--as you came in, you know, Mr. Rushton--"

"I said that your maxim, 'All is for the best,' is a pretty maxim, and no more," replied the lawyer, regarding Verty with an air of rough indifference, as though he tad totally forgotten the scene of the morning.

"I'm sure you are wrong, sir," Redbud said.

"Very likely--to be taught by a child!" grumbled the lawyer.

Redbud caught the words.

"I know I ought not to dispute with you, sir," she said; "but what I said is in the Bible, and you know that cannot contain what is not true."

"Hum!" said Mr. Rushton. "That was an unhappy age--and the philosophy of Voltaire and Rousseau had produced its effect even on the strongest minds."

"G.o.d does all for the best, and He is a merciful and loving Being,"

said Redbud. "Even if we suffer here, in this world, every affliction, we know that there is a blessed recompense in the other world."

"Humph!--how?" said the skeptic.

"By faith?"

"What is faith?" he said, looking carelessly at the girl.

"I don't know that I can define it better than belief and trust in G.o.d," said Redbud.

These were the words which Verty had written on the paper.

The glance of the lawyer fell upon the young man's face, and from it pa.s.sed to the innocent countenance of Redbud. She had evidently uttered the words without the least thought of the similarity.

"Humph," said the lawyer, frowning, "that is very fine, Miss; but suppose we cannot see anything to give us a very lively--faith, as you call it."

"Oh, but you may, sir!"

"How?"

"Everywhere there are evidences of G.o.d's goodness and mercy. You cannot doubt that."

A shadow pa.s.sed over the rough face.

"I do doubt it," was on his lips, but he could not, rude as he was, utter such a sentence in presence of the pure, childlike girl.

"Humph," he said, with his habitual growl, "suppose a man is made utterly wretched in this world--"

"Yes, sir."