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T H E
HOME AT GREYLOCK.
BY
MRS. E, PRENTISS,
AUTHOR OF' STEPPING HEAVENWARD; )" ~ AUNT JANE'S HERO;"
" FLOWER OF THE FAMILY," ETC.
NEW YORK:
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY,
900 BROADWAY, COR. 20th STREET.
I876.




COPYRIGHT, 1876, BY
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
CHAPTER I.
MRS. GREY had been the happy mother of seven
children; they all lived to grow up and marry, and
to rise up and call her blessed, with the exception
of her youngest daughter, Maud. People said it was
a wise and kind thing on the part of Providence, that
Maud was not one of the marrying sort. Her mother
needed one child to help her down the declivity of
life, and it was delightful to see them together. Some
who were not acquainted with them, and who only
knew them by sight, at church, contrived to see, out
of the backs of their heads, that these twain could not
live without each other. Maud shared in this opinion
to the extent of firmly believing that she could not
survive her mother. She was a good, dutiful, devoted
child, whose sunny temper made her life like a song
in the maternal ear.
"How good God is to me," was Mrs. Grey's frequent
thought, "in giving and in sparing to me this darling
child! How strange and how sad it would be to live
alone in this large house! And Maud fits in to every
crack and crevice there is in me as very few girls could,




2          THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
And she is so thoroughly and genially happy that it
is not selfish in me to rejoice that she does not care
to fly out of the nest!"
They were always together; and in their walks, and
talks, and readings, in their visits to the sick and the
poor, in their good-fellowship and innocent sallies of
humor, they were more like two sisters than mother
and daughter. So they went on their way, rejoicing,
till Maud had reached her nineteenth year, and then
a stealthy step crossed the threshold, and an inexorable hand seized upon this young life and crushed
it out.
But is this the way to put it? Is this the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, uttered
in the fear of God and the love of Christ? No! a
thousand times, no! The event had its sad, its tearful,
its sorrowful side; every stricken mother-heart knows
that to its core; but it had another side. The life
of a young, blooming, mortal frame was brought,
humanly speaking, to an untimely end; but the life
of an immortal soul went to expand in a congenial
atmosphere, where it was far more at home than it
had ever been on earth, where all the problems that
had ever baffled it, and all the trials that had ever
wearied it, had their full explanation; with none to
molest, to misunderstand, or to grieve it; beyond
temptation, suffering, and sin; in a word, to be " forever with the Lord."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             3
Is it, then, a lot to be desired to die young?  Certainly not. We are to desire to die young, or live to
a useless old age that cumbers the ground on which
it totters, according to the Divine will, not according
to our own short-sightedness; and this is what Mrs.
Grey thought and felt when the strong, bright light
of Maud's presence faded away from her vision,
and she could see her no longer, save by the eye of
faith. Perhaps some few misunderstood the patient,
unselfish way in which this bereavement was met, and
thought the brave heart that endured such a sorrow
with no clamor, was made of steel. But those who
really knew this bereaved mother, knew the whole
story. The life-long habit of Gospel love to the
neighbor, and of faith in God as One who could not by
any possibility make a mistake, came to her rescue.
It was right because He did it. And what if she was
sorely wounded, was she the only one lying mangled
on the battle-field? With characteristic energy she
summoned her absent children home; with her own
hands she threw open the rooms they were to occupy;
and when, during the next days, they came frdm
all directions, in twos, and threes, and fours, to
gather around and comfort her, they found cheerful
fires blazing, the sweet sunlight streaming in at the
windows, and a smile upon her loving face. Not one
of her children was surprised; they all knew what
mother was. But some of the grandchildren were




It.THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
puzzled; why didn't grandmamma cry more? Why,tas she so taken up with all their little interests?
Why, she even remembered that Julius was fond of
oranges, and that Fergus liked cream-cakes! But
they had been educated into such faith in her that
they did not trouble their young heads with this
problem; she was their dear, bright, loving grandimamma, and that was enough.
In a few weeks the little crowd she had called
about her disappeared, and she was left alone, quite
against their judgment. They all had pleasant homes
to offer her, and it seemed to them that the large
house they had once peopled would be fearfully
lonely now. But she maintained that, with her
health and strength, it was better that she should
have a home and cares of her own, and a rallying
point where they could meet on festal days, as heretofore. So she gradually fell back into the old
routine, entering into every'one's cares, and interests,
and joys, and sorrows, exactly as if she had been created for their special use and comfort, going hither
and thither on all sorts of busy commissions, and
appearing very much as usual, only a trifle sweeter
and gentler. One of her first deeds of kindness was
gathering all Maud's clothing together, and sending
it to her young friends or needy maidens; and so far
from weeping over this task, she took delight in it,
ra!lizing how much pleasure she was about to give,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             5
or how much service to render. She even smiled at
her own mistake, when she saw a very tall young girl
try to adapt herself to one of Maud's petite dresses,
and rectified it at once. But when it came to her
child's favorite books and pictures-the things her
heart and soul had reveled in-it was very different;
she could not part with them. They had been separated very little, so that she had not a single letter
from her to treasure up; but she found in the pocket
of the last dress she wore a copy of an evidently
favorite hymn, together with a few texts of Scripture.
She gave away pearls, and diamonds, and lace that
* had been Maud's; but no king was rich enough to
buy that half-worn scrap of paper.
Maud had many schemes of benevolence which it
was now a sacred pleasure to carry out; and although
when she now went forth on her errands of mercy,
she appeared to go alone rather than with her loving
child's companionship, she was not alone, and not
unhappy; nay more, she was happy. For when,
without a frown, she gave her darling into the Master's hand, He came and more than filled her place,
giving the peace that passes all understanding. Now
this consciousness of the presence of Christ in the
soul is the one thing whose loss the Christian believer,
who has once enjoyed it, cannot do without. Husband and wife, home, children, friends, reputation,
may all go, and the heart still have a song to sing;




6          THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
but let Him go, or even seem to go, and all the
beatitudes on earth are broken fountains that can
hold no water. One may find distraction in congenial employment, and comfort and joy in home
and friends; but real, abiding happiness, in its full
sense, can only be found in Him for whom the soul
was created.
Maud's room, with its lovely adjoining boudoir,
was left for a long time unchanged. Her mother fed
the canary and tended the plants she had loved,
exactly as if the child had gone on a short journey
and was soon to return. One or two books lay open,
just as she had left them; and the whole air of the
apartments was kept just what it had been, neat and
orderly to precision, refined and tasteful to perfection.
Mrs. Grey thought she should always keep these two
rooms sacred to the memory of the bright, happy
maiden who had made them what they were with her
own hands; no other head should touch the pillow
on which that fair one had once rested; no other eye
should linger on the objects of beauty gathered
there-the dainty furniture, the pictures and vines
on the walls, the quaint hanging-baskets and brackets, and woodland and sea-shore trophies. She could
almost hear the tap of the little hammer with which
Maud used to go about nailing up this, that, and the
other pretty thing she had picked up, or bought, or
invented, and her gay song the while. But as time




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             7
passed, there began to steal over her a-vague sentiment, which later became thought; she must keep
the rest of the house for the children and grandchildren; but was it right to shut up those -beautiful
rooms for one who would never return to them?
Could not some other young girl come and nestle
there, and enjoy what Maud no longer needed?
When she first consulted friends on the subject, they
all protested against it. Such experiments always
proved failures, they said. It would have to be an
extraordinary girl to fill Maud's place, etc., etc.
"But I never thought of filling Maud's place," she
argued. "I was only thinking of the happiness it
may be in my power to give."
" I should think that among all your grandchildren,
one, at least, might be spared," some one suggested.
"But even if I were willing to break into a family
circle in that way, and I am not, this would not meet
my plan. My grandchildren all have happy homes,
and need nothing better. But if I should light upon
some friendless girl, think how she would enjoy my
dear Maud's forsaken nest!"
"But you might find her uncongenial, even disagreeable."
A sweet, happy smile lighted up Mrs. Grey's face,
as she replied:
"I should be doing her good, and trying to make
her happy. And after all I have gone through, sus



8          THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
tained by the Divine hand, ought I to doubt that if
He sends me an uncongenial girl, He will give me
grace with which to bear with her?"
Some said this was faith, and all right. Others
said that if people went and thrust their heads into a
bear's mouth they must expect them to be bitten off,
faith or no faith. Now some years before, Mrs. Grey
was feeling her way through the dark hall of a tenement-house in the city of New York, when her steps
were arrested by the sound of a girl's voice, crying so
bitterly that sympathetic tears rushed from her own
eyes.
"Oh! mother, mother, mother, don't/" groaned
the voice in an agony. "Oh! mother, mother!"
"Some brutal mother beating the poor child unmercifully," she thought, and knocked imperatively
at the nearest door.
The sound instantly ceased, but as no other response was made, she opened the door and advanced,
with a firm step, into the room. But she started
back, shocked at her intrusion, when she found herself
face to face with the weeping girl, who was at the
bedside of an unconscious woman, reclining on a bed
which had been drawn near an open window.
If the agony of the girl had been impressive, the
control she was now exercising was not less so. She
stood quietly, even coldly, confronting her unexpected
visitant, who shrank back embarrassed, hardly ven.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             g
turing to utter a word. But the tender sympathy in
her face did more than words could have done.
"Madam, do you know anything about sickness?"
demanded the girl.
"Yes, my poor child, a great deal. Do not, I beg
of you, treat me as a stranger; but tell me what it
was you were entreating your mother not to do. She
does not look to me in a condition to do anything.
She appears to have fainted."
"I thought she was going to die; that was what I
was begging her not to do. Oh! if I knew she had
only fainted!"
"Has she been long ill?" asked Mrs. Grey, while
she laid aside her cloak and proceeded to examine
the prostrate form.
"Not to my knowledge, Madam. She was working, as usual, until twelve o'clock last night; but this
morning she did not get up. I spoke to her, but she
seemed confused, and kept growing paler and paler
till I was frightened, and dragged the bed up to the
window to see if the air would revive her. We had
a doctor for her a month ago, and he said bad air
was like to kill us both."
While the girl was talking, Mrs. Grey had taken
from a basket of hospital supplies such restoratives
and such refreshments as she thought best, and in a
short time had the pleasure of seeing her patient
T *




IO         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
aroused sufficiently to take the nourishment provided
for her.
She had now time to take an astonished glance at
the room in which she sat. It was not only kept
with nicety and care, but there were signs of refinement. A palette with its brushes hung upon the
wall; unfinished bits of color were pinned here and
there; two or three plants grew thriftily on a shelf
by a window, and the seats of several old chairs
showed that undeveloped, but artistic taste had had
to do with seats covered with woolen patchwork,
beautifully put together.
By degrees Mrs. Grey gained the woman's story;
it was commonplace enough, but was not narrated
in a commonplace way, for not only was her tale
adorned by a pretty foreign accent, but by sound
common sense and good feeling.
She had married, young, a poor artist, who found
her in her Swiss home, and was too eager to secure
her to perfect himself in his profession. Neither of
their families approved of the match, and they had
made a foolish, runaway affair of it, coming to this
country full of hope, but without a friend in it.
"My mother hadn't any mother, or brothers, or
sisters; and her father wasn't her own father, and
wasn't good to her."
Mrs. Grey looked the girl full in the face and




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           II
smiled. "You think that makes a difference?" she
said.
"I do, Madam. My mother never did anything
wrong in her life."
What a firm young head was set on those young
shoulders! It is not easy to describe, in words, the
impression made by both mother and daughter.
"And how did you get on?" Mrs. Grey inquired,
turning once more to Mrs. Haydon.
"Well, Madam, we got the punishment our selfwill deserved. We knew no one in this country. My
husband worked hard, but had no friend to encourage
him. He sold pictures enough to keep us alive and,
at times, comfortable. But we lived from hand to
mouth, and if we had sickness, things went very hard
with us. Then he began to get disgusted with his
work. He would begin a picture that looked beautiful to me, but would throw it aside unfinished.
And it ended just as such stories always end.' He
died, and I was left alone with my little ones to support myself as best I could."
"You must have married very young? "
"Madam, we were a boy and a girl, nothing more.
The laws of my country compel education. I was at
school when this folly took place, and when I was
left a widow, my position was a very embarrassing
one. I was not capable of teaching because I had
left school so young; and yet I had come of a good




12         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
family and been used to certain comforts. For a
time I supported myself by embroidery, but this life
of confinement and deprivation of sleep-for I had
to work till midnight-injured my health; and a
physician, whom I consulted a few weeks ago, told
me that, what with over-work, poor food, want of
exercise, and living in a sphere so different from that
in which I was born, I should soon break down
completely."
"What do you propose to- do, then? Apply to
your own or your husband's family?"
"Madam, they return my letters unread. No! I
have made up my mind, and Margaret will make up
hers when she sees that there is but one way of
saving her mother's life. It is a poor life, not worth
saving in itself; but it is everything to her. We
have supported ourselves with needlework up to the
present time, and the work I finished last night will
bring in enough to give me a few days' rest, and we
shall then go out to service."
"To service!" cried Margaret. "My mother go
out to service!"
"Yes, my child. The bad air and the midnight
work are killing me. The doctor says so. If we can
get a situation in a gentleman's family, and get good
air and good food, we yet may be well and happy."
"And your other children?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            13
"They are all, Madam, safe with the Good Shepherd."
"I admire and respect your resolution, and wish
more of my countrywomen were of your mind.
Thousands might lead useful, happy lives in our
homes, who now lead aimless and comfortless ones.
Servitude is no disgrace. I have formed friendships
with women in my kitchen that I expect to last a
lifetime. Still, I wish I could find some more suitable
position for you. You would look for that of seamstress, I suppose?"
"The doctor says I must use my needle no
longer."
"Ah, I have it! One of my daughters wants a
nursery governess. That would be the very thing.
You would take your meals with the children, drive
out with them, get excellent compensation, and be as
happy as the day is long. And to have a woman in
her nursery who fears God, would be most delightful
to her."
Mrs. Haydon looked down, and was silent.
"You think you could not have Margaret with you,
perhaps?" asked Mrs. Grey, surprised. "But I could
manage that, I think."
"Madam, have you a young daughter?" Mrs. Haydon somewhat abruptly asked, in the pretty foreign
accent that made everything she said pleasing.
"Yes, and a very beloved one."




14         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Well, Madam, the position you so kindly propose
would be everything I could ask for myself, but no
lady would allow a girl of Margaret's age to associate,
on equal terms, with her own children,.nor live in her
house in idleness. This would bring her into contact
with other servants, who might be such persons as I
should be willing to have her associate with, and
might not; probably not. But if I undertake general housework, I have my kitchen all to myself,
shall be free from the mental strain of not knowing
to-day how we are to live to-morrow, can look after
Margaret, and keep her out of harm's way. You see,
Madam, that my child's welfare ought to be my only
thought. If she were older, and steadier, and had
fixed religious principle, it would be different. But
as it is, I will submit to anything rather than be separated from her."
"But general housework is very hard; and you
look so delicate.  And you would get very low
wages.
"I am  stronger than I look. Housework will
come hard at first, after so many years of sitting all
day and half the night at needlework; but I gain
strength very fast by using what I have, and Margaret is very handy, and will save me a great many
steps."
"Still, you do not look like a woman born for a
general housemaid."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            15
"And I don't look like a woman born to be a
lady," was the reply, with a faint smile. " You see,
Madam, that it is my own fault that I am in this
difficult position. A girl who makes a runaway
match deserves to suffer for it. But it would grieve
me sorely to drag my poor child down with me, and
therefore I mean to educate her as well as I can, and
try to prepare her for some useful position in the
world."
"But are you sure of getting situations together?"
asked Mrs. Grey.
"Yes, Madam-quite sure. God has humbled my
pride, which has long held out against this method
of support, and made me willing to live in any honest way He suggests. And He will not forsake me
now. He knows that my Margaret is not at an age
to face the world without her mother's restraint and
her mother's love."
" But," said Mrs. Grey, "you talk like an educated
woman, and Margaret's language is not such as one
expects to find in a house like this."
"What education we have will make us all the
better servants," was the reply.
"I hate to have you call yourself a servant!" Margaret broke forth, impetuously.
"If it is a disgrace, it is one I deserve," was the
reply. "I have brought my trials on to myself."




CHAPTER II.
MRS. GREY went home thoroughly interested in
her new charge, and tried to concoct some plan for
keeping the two together in a sphere better fitted to
their evident refinement. She could think of nothing; therefore she tried the next best thing, namely,
to find a family capable of appreciating their good
fortune in obtaining such services. In this quest she
was successful. Mrs. Haydon and Margaret found a
home in a small, Christian family; they had a neat
room to themselves, and were treated not only with
kindness, but consideration. Mrs. Haydon was respectful, quiet, made a system of her work, found
time to read, to attend to Margaret's lessons, and the
ladies of the family confided to Mrs. Grey that they
should feel as if heaven had come down to earth but
for the girl. They did not know what to make of
her, and did not like her. Mrs. Grey thought she did
understand her; she had not forgotten the anguish
of the child when she fancied her mother dying, nor
the sudden act of self-control occasioned by her
(I6)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            17
presence. She knew she had heart and soul, and
that innate desire rather to hide than to display
them, only found in a refined nature.
And no.v, as she sat meditating by her lonely fireside, she came to the conclusion that if it could be
managed, Margaret Haydon would be her choice.
Yet a score of difficulties arose at once. It would
never answer for the mother to be at service and
the daughter living in ease and luxury; in fact, they
ought not to be separated in any way. So thinking,
she renounced Margaret, and looked about her for
some other young person, seeking, as a matter of
course, -and constantly, Divine direction. Still, Margaret filled her thoughts to such a degree that she
was persuaded that, for some reason, hers was the
lot to be cast in with her own. A visit from Mrs.
Haydon, and some mysterious hints dropped by her,
so far settled the question, that she resolved to lay the
case before her, and take counsel with her. It was
some time before they met again, but when they did
so, she opened the subject as delicately and kindly
as she could. Mrs. Haydon listened to the whole
story in silence, and at its conclusion said, quietly:
"You will see, dear Madam, the hand of God in it
all. You say that on the I8th day of January you
began to think of my Margaret, and of offering her a
home. On that day, after many a sleepless night,
I asked leave of my mistress to see a physician; she




I8       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
not only permitted it, but sent for the family doctor.
He told me I had six months to live, and no more.
Now, here was my poor child to be deprived of her
mother, not well-educated enough to teach, too welleducated to be happy among a crowd of ill-bred
servants, and I knew not what would become of her.
There was only one thing I could do, and that was
to leave her with my God. He knew I had no
wicked ambition for her, though I did want her so
bred, that if her father's family ever fell in with her,
they need have no occasion to be ashamed of her.
And then I knew that if her natural tastes could be
at all gratified, it would keep her from a fondness for
dress, and visiting and idling, and other follies to
which young women are prone. Now, all my prayers
for her are answered. Before you knew of her coming need, your' heart was made to yearn over her;
and now I can die in perfect peace, for you will be a
mother to my child, and teach her all I could have
taught her, and far, far more."
"And where do you propose to die?" asked Mrs.
Grey.
Two remarkable women had got together, and
were talking in this quiet, passionless way of so solemn an event as death. How was this?  It arose
from the fact that commotion, and hue and cry,
and clamor belong only to undisciplined characters.
Who ever heard of the-General of an army becom



TIIE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I9
ing panic-stricken and demoralized? He leaves that
to the common soldier.
Both Mrs. Grey and Mrs. Haydon had passed
through too many and too deep waters to regard
death as anything more than a little rill, over which
one passed at a single footstep.
" I shall have to go to a hospital," said Mrs. Haydon.
"And have Margaret nurse you?"
" That is not allowed. And if it is not asking too
much, since you so kindly propose to care for my
child, might she come to you directly?"
"While you go off, alone, to die in a hospital?
No; oh, no. Were you to go at once?"
" Yes, at once. I have toiled on till I can toil no
more.1"
"Is it possible that you are so ill, yet show it so
little?"
" It's the quiet mind, the doctor says, that keeps
me up. He said that if I had worried, it would have
hastened my death. Thank God, I have learned to
cast all my care on Him, and He has cared for me."
There was silence for some minutes. What might
be mistaken for dogged submission, Mrs. Grey recognized as the kind of faith that travels across and
moves mountains. She was decisive in all her ways
always knew her own mind, and now came to a very
rapid conclusion.
"Does Margaret know?"




20         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"No, Madam. Would you be willing to break it
to her?"
"Yes; and I will see that your last days are made
as comfortable as possible. Leave everything to me.
On the day you are to leave your employer's, send
Margaret to me. I will tell her what is before her.
Poor child! her distress will be dreadful."
"Would it be right for us to have no farewell?"
"No, no, indeed, you shall have a farewell. Leave
everything to me."
Mrs. Haydon took leave, and Mrs. Grey rang; her
factotum immediately appeared.
" Mary, we are going to have some visitors; that
is, I want the room prepared for a sick person and a
young lady. And Mary-their appearance, when
they arrive, is to be a matter between you and me;
no one else is to know what sort of clothes they
wear. When asked questions in the kitchen, just say
they are friends of mine."
Mary, discretion itself, withdrew, and in a few
days Margaret unsuspectingly made her appearance.
Mrs. Grey had a most trying task before her, and expected some such burst of anguish as that of four
*years ago. But Margaret had passed through much
discipline during those four years.  To see her
mother a kitchen housemaid; to feel herself the
yoke of servitude, had been hard, very hard. She
did not shed a tear when the truth was told her, and




THE HOME Ar GREYLOCK.           21
only said, setting her teeth together, " I always have
said that if the Lord loved my mother half as well as
she loved Him, He'd take her out of a kitchen and
find a more suitable place for her."
"He loves her, as He does all His children, so
much more than any of us love Him, that we have no
arithmnetical terms with which to describe it. And if
a manger and a carpenter's shop were suitable places
for Him, what spot is too humble for us?"
" You would not like to lie in a manger, or work in
a carpenter's shop, or drudge in a kitchen."
"No, dear, I do not pretend that I should; but
I hope I should act, under the same circumstances,
as your mother has done. I think she did the best
she could for you. And now she has toiled in an
uncongenial sphere long enough, and her Master has
by His providence told her so."
"But what will become of her? Sick people need
homes. We have laid by some money, but you
know mother's wages were very small because she
had an incumbrance. Yes, that's all I am in this
world, an incumbrance  "
"It will not be so in the next world. But here is
the question, as to where your mother is to spend her
last months. She has decided to go to a hospital."
"Poor mother! But I will not let them neglect
her. I will take care of her day and night."




22         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"My dear, you will not be allowed to do that. An
occasional visit is all that is permitted."
"An occasional visit to my sick mother!" cried
Margaret;" I should like to see them undertake to
separate us! I would tear them to pieces first! "
Mrs. Grey remained silent, and Margaret ran
furiously on till the silence struck and checked her.
"We will get your mother safely into a hospital,
or what is as good as a hospital, without tearing anyone to pieces. A room is all ready for her, and
there you shall take care of her."
"Oh, Mrs. Grey, it is impossible.  We haven't
nearly enough to justify our taking a room."
"How would this plan suit you, then? Suppose
your mother enters a hospital where I know she will
be kindly treated, and I give you a home with me?
You would be here exactly as if you were my own
child, could be well educated, and surrounded by all
the refinements of life. Look around you. This
beautiful room, with its luxuries, would be yours;
you would have books, pictures, everything you
wanted."
Margaret looked as she was bidden, and at one
glance took in all the charms of the spot. Then
rising scornfully to her feet, she burst into tears,
jerking out the words in jets of indignation:
"That I should live to be bribed to forsake my
dying mother! Now I agm degraded!"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            23
Mrs. Grey's experiment was a success. For that
it was only an experiment the sagacious reader has
at once divined.
"Ah! I knew I was not mistaken in you!" she
cried; "I knew you would prove as true as steel!"
She rose and caught both the hands of the excited
girl in her own, then said in tones that elicited
instant obedience:
"Follow me."
They entered now a large, airy room, which contained two dainty, white beds; an open wood-fire
burned on the hearth, near which a cat sat, purring.
" Here is your mother's hospital," said Mrs. Grey,
"and you are matron, doctor, nurse, daughter, everything she can need. On these shelves," she added,
opening a door, "are the hospital supplies; with
this spirit-lamp you can make tea, warm liquids, and
do a score of things. Here'is a shade from the gas
at night; this is a tray for food, when your patient
takes to bed; this little nursery refrigerator will keep
you supplied with ice day and night, and preserve
milk and the like twelve hours and more. This
candle will be of service when you have to move
about at night, and these dressing-gowns can be
washed at your pleasure. You see I am an old
soldier in this sort of battle-field, and keep my armor
always at hand."
All this, spoken in a cheerful, business-like manner,




24         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
gave Margaret time to recover herself; without a
word of thanks on the one hand, or of demur on the
other, she accepted the situation, took off her outer
garments and hung them up, and turning to Mrs.
Grey, asked, as if all that was befalling her was an
every-day occurrence:
"When is my mother coming?"
"I am going for her now. She thinks she is
merely to call here to bid you farewell, and then go
and languish her life away among strangers."
And then, as Margaret was going to speak, she
said:
"I wouldn't talk about it just now, if I were you."
So saying, she drove off in her carriage, and in a few
hours mother and daughter were alone together in
the sweet, fresh room which was now their home.
They sat down before the fire, and looked in each
other's face as they only look who know that death
may part, but never separate them.
"Do you know where you are, mother?" Margaret
asked at length.
"Yes," was the surprised answer, "I am in Mrs.
Grey's house, on my way to the hospital."
"No, you are in the hospital now, on the way
to heaven!"
Then they laughed and cried, and said it was a
dream. So they sat, hand in hand, in the long twilight; then Margaret made tea, and cut bread and




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            25
toasted it, and from the adjoining store-room brought
out such delicacies as invalids sometimes will fancy
when better food grows insipid, and then helped
her mother into one of the soft beds, shaded the gas,
and sat thinking, thinking, thinking, till the soft
breathing of the sleeper admonished her that she,
too, ought to be asleep.
It was not till late next morning that Mrs. Grey
came to inquire after her guests, and when she did so,
she was in such brilliant spirits, and acted so exactly
as if this were a real hospital, miles away, that there
was no use in trying to prove that it was not. They
had never seen her otherwise than very much in
earnest; now she came out in a new character. She
told stories; she read amusing extracts from a book
she had with her; said she believed she would take
lunch with them in case Margaret could stew some
oysters on that wonderful little lamp, and made them
feel so thoroughly at home that Margaret became
quite gay, ran around laying the table in a way that
would have put brisk Mary to the blush, and soon
had a cosy little lunch prepared, which they all
enjoyed.
" If such times could only last! " Margaret thought.
"But good times never do." And then she asked
leave to exhibit Maud's rooms to her mother, and
not an object of beauty escaped their notice, while
2




26         THE HIOME AT GREYLOCK.
Mrs. Grey enjoyed their appreciation of her darling's
taste.
So time slipped by; Mrs. Grey invariably keeping
Lip Mrs. Haydon's and Margaret's spirits; making the
best of everything; suggesting employments for
hours when the invalid was free from pain; change
of food; change of position; change of furniture;
change of pictures when the eye wearied of them,
and never out of patience or out of heart.'At times
the two women fell into sweet and grave talk that
Margaret, sitting silently at her work, could not
understand. Their doctrines puzzled her beyond
measure. She said to herself now and again:
"I don't think so! I don't believe that!" And
then would try to reconcile their happy, cheerful
lives, their patience, their submission, with her own
theories, failed to do it, but carped and caviled
within herself, and watched for flaws in them as cats
watch for mice, all ready to spring out upon them
and rout or devour them.
" It's so queer," she thought, "to hear two people,
who have been born and brought up in different
countries and in entirely different ways, talk together as
if they'd always belonged to one family. They're just
like Freemasons-they know each other by the touch.
I can't understand it. And now mother has got me
off her hands, I verily believe she thinks it the nicest
thing in the world to die. But I don't believe she's




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            27
going to die. People that are going to die are solemn, and mother isn't in the least solemn. She is
just exactly what she was before that horrid doctor
said she could only live six months. Now I know
that, what with freedom from over-work, and nice,
tempting food, and living with such a dear, good,
funny, quaint old lady, she'll see too well what is
good for her, to die. To die! Ugh! I hope Ishall
live a hundred years! It will take fully that to make
up for the time I've lost."
It is easy to believe what one wants to believe, and
Margaret found it agreeable to delude herself into
the fondest hopes. Her love for her mother, though
rarely exhibited, was her ruling passion; it was the
only master to whom she would ever submit, yet
more than once she became its slave.
Mrs. Haydon's disease, however, was making progress, as she knew perfectly well; and from time to
time she tried to give Margaret the parting counsels
a Christian mother would naturally wish to give.
But Margaret never would allow any allusion to be
made to an event she was resolved should not take
place, and so the precious time passed on. Mrs.
Haydon conferred with Mrs. Grey on the subject,
who advised her to put in writing some of the things
she longed to say. But the poor woman did not
hold the pen of a ready writer, and was, besides, in
constant pain; so day after day passed and nothing




28         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
was done. Then came a sudden change for the
worse, and after that a gradual loss of strength, till
at last, to her perfect horror, Margaret had to admit
that the case was hopeless. The first warm days of
June proved exhaustive of what little vitality was
left in the worn frame, and the end came rapidly.
Mrs. Grey lived through hard times with the passionate girl, whose grief was like a tempest that
threatened to sweep her away. In vain she reminded
her of the ecstacy of joy in which her mother had
entered into rest; in vain spoke of the peaceable
fruits of grievous sorrow; in vain took her from place
to place. The unsubdued will could not, would
not rest.
At the close of the summer, on their return from
many wanderings, Margaret was installed in Maud's
rooms, and Mrs. Grey introduced her to her friends
as her adopted daughter. They had lived under one
roof together nearly a year now, but though Margaret's faults were obvious-she taking no pains to
conceal them-Mrs. Grey had never wavered in her
attachment to and interest in her, and was sure that
the Divine hand had brought them together. As
to Margaret, she loved Mrs. Grey as she did the few
she loved at all, intensely, and by degrees began to
regard her with somewhat of the enthusiasm she had
felt for her mother. Still she spent a great deal of
time by herself, reading the letters of her father and




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             29
mother in the days of their youthful love.  She
hardly remembered him, but these letters moved her
wonderfully; they were such as she should write if
she were in love; and for the first time in her life the
thought came to her what it would be to become
the object of such devotion.
Theirs had been a real romance, and she had never
read of one in any book that touched her as these
revelations did. There was not much in her mother's
handwriting that was original, but what there was,
was tender and girlish. One letter, written during the
early part of their marriage, and during a temporary
separation, contained the only allusion to herself, and
she read it with mingled emotions:
"Nous chantons deux, je lui re6pte,
Nous chantons d'amour;
Deux dans notre nid d' alouette,
Trois peut-etre un jour."
She was recalled from the past to the present by a
tap at the door, and reluctantly opening it about an
inch, saw Mrs. Grey, who said, "I am sorry to interrupt you, dear; but Mrs. Cameron and Agnes are
here, and Mrs. Cameron wants a little confidential
talk with me, which would be rather a bore to a
young girl; so, if you will entertain her half an hour
or so, I shall be very much obliged to you."
"I am not looking fit to go down," said Margaret.




30        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"So I see, poor child! " replied Mrs. Grey. "But
Agnes would not mind coming up; indeed she would
like to do so, for she has spent many happy hours
here in dear little Maud's day."
Margaret rose and went, in a lifeless way, to bathe
hear tear-swollen eyes, and in a few moments a bright,
smiling girl made her appearance.
"Oh! this lovely room! " she cried. "How glad I
am to see it once more. You naughty child! why
haven't you been to see me? Well, I never saw so
many pretty things together in any one room in my
life. I am sure you must be the happiest girl living.
If you couldn't be happy in such a room as this, you
couldn't be happy anywhere!"
"Well, then, let me tell you that it takes more
than a beautiful room to make one happy. All this
room is good for for me is to be wretched in! "
"Now, Margaret, I did think you would get over
moping when you settled down here and found yourself openly adopted by Mrs. Grey. Why, my mother
says you ought to be overwhelmed with gratitude."
"I know I ought. But I never do what I ought!"
"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Dear me! if I had such a boudoir as this, and such
a bedroom, and a bureau all to myself, I should
be as happy as the day is long. As it is, my sister
Jane and I have one room together. She takes the
two upper bureau drawers, and I have to put up




rHE HOME AT GREYeLOC.           31
with the two lower ones. Then she contrives to use
nearly all the nails in the closet, and nearly all the
shelves; and she is forever getting my towels, and
mislaying her hair-brush and using mine; besides,
I dote on having things tidy and in order, and she
keeps all her things helter-skelter. Well, if you
won't be happy, you won't; so there it is! Goodbye. Come and see me, do."
"Is it won't?" Margaret asked herself, as the door
closed upon the good-humored chatterbox.  "If I
thought it was-"
She had made the acquaintance of Agnes Cameron
during the summer; a shallow friendship had sprung
up between them, which would never amount to
anything more; now a heedless word from a thoughtless girl had done what all Mrs. Grey's wise counsels
had failed to do.
Margaret went to the glass and looked at herself.
She had no vanity, and had never cared what people
thought of her. She stood, straightening up now,
and studied her own face' for the first time.
"What a will you have got, Margaret Haydon! "
she said; "and what is the use of it, if you sit crying and wailing like a child? I am ashamcd of
You  "
She folded the letters she had been brooding over
all the morning, tied them together with a bit of
white ribbon, and locked them up in a drawer. Then




32         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
she climbed upon a chair and threw the key as far
and as high as she could; it alighted behind a box,
and there it lay for a year, untouched. Then she
walked down-stairs and into the library, and gave
Mrs. Grey a good, wholesome, sound kiss.
"Now, aunty," she said, "I hope you've had the
worst of me."
Mrs. Grey looked up, and smiled. How many
times she had prayed for this day!




CHAPTER III.
MARGARET never knew what caused this sudden
change, but it was simply this. If it was a passion
with her to love, it was also a passion to avoid unpleasant sights. And the picture drawn by Agnes
Cameron revolted her. To have somebody share her
room who kept everything in disorder would be
something intolerable. All her life long she had
been used to the beauty of perfectly-kept rooms; on
the mother's part this was mere feminine nicety,
such as any woman might possess. In Margaret it
was the artistic element inherited from her father;
she must have order reign where she dwelt, not because it is meet and right to be orderly, but because
it hurt her eye to see confusion. At this stage of
her history, she would have been surprised to be told
this; perhaps have stoutly denied it. But a realizing
sense of what a hardship it would be to her to have
such a room-mate as Jane Cameron had come over
her now, and, with it, confusion of face that she had
behaved in so ungrateful a way. It was not in her:2*                      (33)




34         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
to ask any one's pardon, out and out, but the kiss
and the little speech from her were equivalent to
going down on her knees, had she been somebody
else.
Mrs. Grey seized this gentler mood at once.
"I have been thinking," she said, without comment or ado, "what is to be done about your education. You are too old to go to school, and perhaps
I could manage to teach you myself. But in order
for that, I shall have to find out how far your mother
took you."
"She took me as far as she could, and then let me
go on by myself. Now, about algebra, for instance.
She knew nothing about it, but there was a number
of old school-books in the house where we lived, and
I was allowed the use of them."
"And you studied algebra?"
"Yes, I studied it just as I should take a dose of
medicine-swallowed it down, and then helped my
self to a lump of sugar, to take the taste out."
"A metaphorical lump, I suppose?"
"Yes, I made patchwork."
"What an extraordinary idea! However, I think
I understand it. Your needle represented a brush,
and those bits of bright-colored flannels, paint. We
must look into that. Now, what else did you
study?"
"Mother made me study English grammar. She




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            35
said she owed it Vto my father's family to have me
understand his language."
"English grammar? How is that?"
"Why, as a general rule, mother talked to me in
French, but she was very particular to have me keep
up what English I had learned from my father. She
had a few French books, and taught me to read to
him, and until his death I had plenty of time for it."
"I' did not know your father was an Englishman."
"But he was. He was travelling through Europe on foot, stopping to sketch when anything took
his fancy, and one day he saw my mother standing
near a chdlet, with a child in her arms, and fell in
love with her. The child belonged to a neighbor
who often lodged artists for weeks at a time, and he
contrived to spend a whole summer there."
But our readers need not hear the whole story of
Margaret's fragmentary education. She was now between seventeen and eighteen, and had managed to
pick up a wonderful amount of information; but culture she had none. This she soon began to feel, but
as the companion of a woman cultivated to the last
degree, and with her own brilliant powers, she glided,
without difficulty, into regions most girls in her position would have had to reach through laborious
toil. And as to art, Mrs. Grey had only to provide
her with materials, and give her opportunity to ex




36         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
periment, and the next thing she knew, grace and
beauty dropped like magic from the tiny point of
her pencil. But so many-other gifts developed themselves, that there was no danger of one-sidedness.
So she dashed on, eager, breathless, like one running a race; entering into everything with zest and
enjoyment, and undertaking work enough to exhaust
a less dauntless nature. -- And then another cloud
began to arise. Christmas was coming, and with it
twelve human beings to criticise, misunderstand, dislike her.
Twelve human beings for her to criticise, be jealous of, and, as like as not, hate. At least that was
the way she chose to put it, but this is Mrs. Grey's
version:
"They'll all come, this year; my darling boys and
girls, and their little folks. Will they find it somewhat awkward, before they get acquainted with Margaret? It will be trying for her, poor child, to see a
mother and children together."
However, she had tact  the kind of tact that
comes from Christian instincts. She talked to Margaret about the home-comers, exactly as if they were
her brothers and sisters, got her interested, asked her
to manage a Christmas-tree, and consulted her about
everything.
" Do the children have a tree every year?" asked
Margaret.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            37
" Oh, yes-every year."
"Then I should like to get up something different; I don't know what, but I can think out a
plan."
The next morning she came down as radiant as
the sun.
"I have a plan," she announced, "and now I
must have a carpenter."
The carpenter was forthcoming, the plan shown
him; he had little folks of his own, and entered into
the fun of the thing, gleefully. Christmas Eve arrived, and the house was full. As lively greetings
were exchanged, Margaret began to shrink into herself, and to wish she could hide in some cranny till
all was over. Is this natural? Is this picture true
to life? It is. Reality never tries to shine, to display its plumage or clap its wings. It is Unreality
that comes strutting forward, crying, "Go to, and
admire my gifts!"
The Christmas breakfast was a failure.  In vain
Mrs. Grey tried to persuade herself that her children
had taken Margaret into their hearts, and loved her
like a sister; in vain they reproached themselves for
not being able to do it; in vain Margaret tried to appear at her ease with all those eyes upon her; a cold
silence fell upon every sally made by some bold
adventurer, and all were thankful when the meal was
over.




38         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"And now," said Mrs. Grey, "you older boys must
come immediately to help Margaret through with
her Christmas surprise, whatever it may be: for what
it is I know no more than the rest of you."
Two or three stout fellows volunteered, and were
led off by Margaret, who unfolded her plan to them,
and was at once- placed on a pedestal as an object of
admiration.
"It's just capital! " they all agreed, and in a few
minutes the ice between them melted, and they were
laughing, working, joking together, like fellows wellmet. The entertainment was to come directly after
the children's dinner, as many of them were too
young to bear excitement at night, and while Margaret and her allies were pushing on their preparations, the mother and her children sat together in
one of those family councils in which the more there
are the merrier. One does not often see so many
happy faces together, for while no one forgot how
Maud used to enjoy those festivities, they would not
allow themselves to spoil the day by sad retrospections. After a time most of the party went
to church; then came the bountiful lunch Mrs. Grey
was so fond of getting up, and the children's dinner,,followed by the expectant procession headed by
Margaret silent and shy. Instantly a great hue
and cry arose, as they came into view of a real house
at the end of the large parlors, rooms rarely used




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            39
now, from whose tall red chimney Santa Claus was
emerging, with his arms full of snowballs, with which
he began pelting the crowd with might and main.
Margaret's house appeared to be covered with
snow, as was the ground on which it stood; and she
had contrived to produce the effect of moonlight, the
illusion being perfect. Some of the very little children fell back in affright at the weird scene, the
strange figure of Santa Claus and the shower of
snow-balls. But that was all set right when they
found that the balls were made of cotton, not snow,
and each contained a gift. Such a scrambling as followed this disclosure!
Little Sam Grey was knocked off his legs, and lay
prostrate on his back, holding a large snow-ball in
each hand, and a well-aimed blow at delicate, blueeyed Mabel Heath, sent her spinning over the fleecy
floor, to her great amazement, and that of the
"baby" she held in her arms.'The whole scene was as picturesque as possible;
and Margaret was in her element now, and forgot to
be either proud or shy, as she moved about among
the children, enjoying their enjoyment. She did not
know she was fond of girls and boys and babies,
for she had never come in contact with them, though
she had heard plenty of screaming and quarreling
among those who lived in the house with her in times
past. But here were sweet, well-bred, daintily-dressed




40         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
little mortals, the very ideal of babyhood and childhood; and with the quick instinct of their age they
speedily elected her as the beloved of their hearts.
And as the road to a mother's heart lies through that
of her children, before the day closed Margaret had
won, without trying to do it, the admiration and
the love of the six young mothers whose coming she
had so dreaded. They, too, were relieved. They
had not known exactly how they were to take this
new inmate of the family, and had some misgivings,
which they frankly confessed the next morning
as they gathered around the library-fire to have
a family confab. Margaret had established herself in
what used to be the day-nursery, and which was still
used as such when the grandchildren came home,
and could have been seen with a baby on her lap, a
little darling, blue-eyed Mabel standing behind her
on the chair she occupied, with her arms around her
neck, and two or three others clustered at her knee.
"Well, girls," said Mrs. Grey, "what do you think
of my Margaret? "
" Oh, mamma!" cried Belle Heath, "it is suck a relief to find her what she is! Cyril and I were.afraid
some designing creature had taken you in. You
know you are so easily taken in."
"I know no such thing," said Mrs. Grey, greatly
amused. "I know of no one so hard to impose on as
I am."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            4L
"'0 wad some power the giftie gie us,'" quoted
Frank Grey, who had just entered the room, after a
late breakfast, and was bending his six-feet frame to
kiss his mother.
"I wish it wad," said his sister Laura, "for then
you would be up in season for breakfast. It isn't
nice to come down after everything has grown
as cold as a stone. Does Lily let you do so at
home?"
"Lily set me the example," he said, laughing.
"Besides, mamma grows indulgent in her declining
years."
" Perhaps I am a little indulgent," said Mrs. Grey.
"Parents who are severe with their children when
they are young, are apt to relax as they grow
older."
A shout of laughter followed this remark. Mrs.
Grey looked around, surprised.
"' Now, what have I said that should make you so
merry?" she asked, innocently.
"That little word'severe' lies at the bottom of
the joke," said Frank. "The idea of our beautiful
lady-mother insinuating that she was ever hard upon
her offspring!"
"At all events, if I could live my life over again, I
would deal very differently with my children from
what I did-especially with you two older ones."
"O, we were more depraved than those that came




42         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
after," said Belle. "And if you hadn't taken us in
hand, in a summary way, I do not know what would
have become of us. Papa never would do anything
but spoil us, he was so indulgent."
"It's not a man's business to manage his children," said Cyril Heath. "It's the mother's."
"I don't agree with you," said Frank Grey. "It's
the man's."
"Of course it is," said his wife.
"Well, why?" pursued Cyril.
" He is supposed to have more weight of character
than she."
"And suppose he hasn't?"
" I can't suppose any such thing. Men are born to
rule, and do rule; women are born to yield, and do
yield."
"They are born to rule in their own sphere, it is
true," interposed Mrs. Grey, who, as the reader
ought to know, had written a book on the subject
of education. "But home is not their sphere. It
is woman's kingdom, and there she should reign."
"But I always took the ground that a modest
woman would doubt her own judgment in regard to
the children, and defer to the father," objected
Frank's wife. She was a little, delicate creature, who
admired her husband above all things, though she
could pretend to be ashamed of him now and then.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           43
"A man ought to be master in his own house,"
said one.
"That applies to the kitchen as well as to the
nursery," said another. "A woman who makes her
husband manage the children will make him manage
the servants."
" Well, some do."
"The more shame to them."
"It's rather hard upon a man when he comes
home at night, hoping for a smile from his wife, and
-a romp with his boys, to see an anxious wrinkle on
her brow, and hear her say:
"'0, John, I am so thankful you have come!
There's Tom won't take his powders, and I can do
nothing with him! And Sue has stolen and eaten four
slices of cake. Four slices! Just think of it! And
Hetty struck her nurse twice, and nurse says she'll
leave.' "
Everybody laughed, and everybody had something
to say.
"Why, of course such a woman as that has no
force of character," said Cyril Heath. "Really sensible women do not behave in that way."
"And really good ones do not have children who
are disobedient, who steal cake, and strike their
nurses," said Mrs. Grey.
At this there was a great clamor, some denying,
some affirming the point.




44        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"I think, mother, you forget some of our childish
misdeeds," said Frank. "I know a very good mother
who had some very wayward children."
"Being wayward is one thing; being low, and vulgar, and rude is another," she replied. "I suppose
all spirited children like to have their own way, and
will get it if they can; but it is inconsistent with my
idea of a Christian home that its inmates should be
wanting in refinement, have the habit of giving way
to passionate temper, to duplicity, to dishonesty, to
meanness-"
"We all know you can't stand meanness," interrupted Frank. "'But go on, please. We young fathers and mothers are ready for any number of hints."
"But children are born totally depraved," said one
of the daughters-in-law. "We have to take them as
they come."
"That depends; my dear, if you and that boy of
mine there are living self-controlled lives, are at
peace with God and at peace with each other, your
children will enter the world at great advantage.
They will be different, at their very birth, from the
children of undisciplined parents, who pamper their
bodies, indulge in unholy passions, and reproduce
offspring like unto themselves. You may depend
upon it that your duty to your child begins before
it sees the light. But lunch is ready, so I'll stop
preaching in order to feed you."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            45
Lunch was a lively meal, because so many children
were there. Margaret came in with her face fairly
shining. A score of little feet came pattering in
with her. Their quaint ways of eating their dinner
amused her so that her own plate remained untouched. She watched, with great amusement, the
tiny, infantine hands that held spoons they had
not skill to manage; how they picked up their
food with their fingers, placed it in the spoons, and
then manfully and laboriously conveyed it to their
mouths. But not one who could wield a spoon
would allow itself to be fed.
" After we get through with lunch," Mrs. Grey said
to her, "I want the children to see some of your
pictures."
"Do you suppose they would care for them,
auntie?" asked Margaret, in some surprise.  " I
should think they would enjoy'Old Mother Hubbard' more."
Consternation, then laughter.
"Mother means us," explained Frank. "To her
we are as much boys and girls as ever."
"Oh! But I have done nothing fit to show," said
Margaret. "And I don't see how any one who can
look at these lovely little children, can even want to
look at anything else. Just see these tiny, dimpled
hands!"
The young mother who had most interest in the




46         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
dimpled hands, left her seat, and came to Margaret's
side of the table on hearing this, and said:
"Before I came home I wondered what I should
call you. But I know now. I shall call you Mag.,
and you must call me Oney."
"Well, Oney, I will," said Margaret, and then both
laughed a gleeful, girlish laugh of good-fellowship.
"If you were a boy, you would be a wag," said
Laura.
"And if you were a horse, you would be a nag,"
retorted Margaret; upon which the girl-mother took
her into her confidence; told her how she felt the
first time baby cried, after the nurse left; how many
dresses she made for it, and how many things mother
knit; and how she nearly died with laughing when it
began to walk. She also communicated that she
kept four servants, was fond of housekeeping, and
" oh, what do you think of mamma? Isn't she splendid? So straight and tall, such white, wavy hair,
such bright eyes, and so full of talent! "
Margaret would call her Oney, and listen to her;
but whether she should ever confide in her she wasn't
sure; still, she was very nice, and her baby's hands
were so pretty!




CHAPTER IV.
THE next day most of the sons departed, various
duties calling them back. The Rev. Cyril Heath, and
Belle, his wife, stayed several weeks, as he could take
his vacation more conveniently in the winter than in the
summer. Among them all they persuaded two of the
sisters to remain likewise, and to Margaret's delight,
most of her special pets belonged to these three families.
"I don't like to say it even to you, mamma," said
Belle Heath, " but it is a relief to have Frank's children gone. They are so wide-awake, so independent,
and so spoiled."
" Their mother tries to do well by them," said Mrs.
Grey. "And they are very fond of her. And Frank
seems contented enough."
" He may seem so, but I am sure he isn't. Is there
nothing can be-done to tone Lily up? Couldn't you
talk to her, and make her see that she will ruin those
children?"
"My dear Belle, no, indeed. Young wives abhoi
having their mothers-in-law interfere with them."
(47)




48          THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"But just listen to this. Yesterday Frank, Jr., came
rushing in like a mad creature, and rushed up to my
poor little Mabel, seized her by the leg, and floored
her. Mabel hit her head against a chair, and began
to cry.
"'Why, Frank,' said his mother,' what spirits you
have. But it is rude to treat your little cousin in
that way. Go and tell her you are sorry.'
"' I won't,' said Frank.
"'Very well, then you shall not dine with me today.' Thereupon he set up one of his dreadful
shrieks, when Lily said,' Don't cry; on the whole
it won't do to forbid you dining with me, because it
would annoy grandma. Ask Aunt Belle if that isn't
the case.'
"She looked at me, and I said,'Lily, dear, don't
break your word; for the child's sake, I beg you not.'
"'Oh,' she said,' I spoke impulsively; it will just
spoil my lunch if Franky is in disgrace. Belle, I wish
you didn't make so much of every trifle.' I said I
could not think it a trifle to break one's word."
" I hope Franky did not hear this discussion," interposed Mrs. Grey.
"Not he; the moment Lily let him off as to the
matter of dinner he was at his ease, and rushed off
into some other piece of mischief. I said a good deal
to Lily, and at last, she called Frank and said to him,'Your aunt thinks you ought to be punished for your




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             49
naughty ways; now, if I let you off about the dinner,
I shall have to think of some other way of dealing
with you. Perhaps I shall use papa's little rod.'
"' Ho, papa's little rod! You can't hurt me with it.'
"'Yes, I can, and I shall, too; and now, go away,
and play.'
"This morning I reminded her of her threat to the
child, and asked her if she had carried it out.
"'Why, no,' she said,' I couldn't punish a child today for what it did yesterday. He is good and pleasant now, and I couldn't go and pick a quarrel with
him.'
"'Oh, never pick a quarrel with him,' I said,' but
keep your word, Lily.'
"She yawned, and called Franky, who came running up.
"' Here, you young rogue,' she began,' come and
feel the rod I promised you yesterday;' so then they
got into a regular frolic together, and he finally
wrenched it out of her hand and threw it into the
fire."
"Yes," said Mrs. Grey, " that's Lily to the life.
But she might be a hundred, yes, a thousand times
worse. I had rather see her inefficient and amiable
than ever so energetic, but ill-tempered."
"Of course. But the children won't respect her."
"But they'll love her."
Belle sighed.  "Frank was always my favorite
3




50         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
brother," she said, "and when he became engaged
to Lily, I thought him such a lucky fellow; she was
so pretty and so sweet, and seemed so fond of him.
But those children. She can do nothing with them."
"Well, Frank makes them obey him."
"But he is able to be with them so little. And you
must own, mamma, that it is the mother who moulds
the child."
"No, not where both parents live to be joint educators of their children. You do not remember much
about your father; but Lily reminds me more of him
than any of you do. Nothing would have tempted
him to punish you; he would contrive to forget his
threats, or laugh them off, and I always thought that
as you grew up, you would love him better than you
did me, he was so gentle with you."
"Yet, it is the law-giver who is invariably loved the
best. Frank's children-love him far better than they
do their mother."
" Yes; but that is chiefly owing to his loving them
so intensely."
" Poor Lily. She is never intense in anything. But
she is a dear little thing, and they may all get on together, somehow."
"I think, my dear, it will not be'somehow.' I
think there will be cause and effect. Frank can do
more by his pure and thoroughly religious life, than
Lily can undo. As the children grow older they will




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             51
feel his influence everywhere. It certainly is a fact
that in many a home where the mother is amiable,
well-disposed, but weak, the father comes to the
rescue, becomes the ruling spirit of the house, and
his boys and girls turn out good and true men and
women."
Belle smiled. "You will never say die," she declared. " I wish I was as sure of my mother-in-law
as Lily is of hers. And now I want to talk to you
about my. own little men and women."
"No wonder. They are charming."
But at this moment several others entered the
room, some with babies, some with needlework;
they all sat around the library table, by the open fire,
making as pleasant a picture as one need desire to
see. There was a little desultory conversation; one
wanted to learn a particular stitch in knitting, and
another taught her. Belle came and looked on, and
learned it in half the time.
"Now, Belle," said Laura, "I wish you would
teach me the secret of your children's excellent
manners. They are as full of spirit as mine, but
they are not rude, and mine are. They slam doors,
and slide down the banisters, and interrupt me when
I am talking."
Here there was a general outcry.
"I never would allow my children to interrupt,'
said one.




52         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"They all do it, except Belle's children."
"Then all children are disagreeable-and very
disagreeable."
" Come, Belle, speak up. How have you contrived
it all?"
"There has not been much contrivance about it.
There were certain things I made up my mind to
have, and I've had them. There were certain other
things I wanted to have, but have not, thus far,
gained. In other words, I do not consider our household life perfect. We every one of us, father, mother, and children, have our faults and foibles."
" I should hope so," said Laura. "You would be
fearfully uninteresting if you never said or did anything but what was prim and proper."
"Oh, as to that, we are not prim, as you very well
know."
"What, not when you go on straw-rides?  Dear
me, I have been black-and-blue ever since you and
his Reverence inveigled me into going blackberrying
in that style. But come, now; what have you done
to your children?"
"I don't know," said Belle, trying to -think.
"Perhaps they were born with good manners. I
never fuss over them; they seem to take to things
naturally."
" May I say what I think about it?" asked Margaret, coming eagerly forward.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             53
"Yes, do, child," said Mrs. Grey, who had been
listening' in amused silence to the mixture of fun and
earnestness visible in her young folks.
"Mrs. Heath always does what she wants the children to do; she never tells them to say' I thank you,'
but always thanks them, down to the youngest,
whenever she has a chance; she never orders them
about, either, but always gives directions kindly;
and she never speaks unkindly to them at any
time."
"And never slides down the banisters or slams
doors," Belle added, right merrily.
By this time Margaret had shrunk back, rather
frightened at having spoken out before so many
listeners.
"You are right, Margaret," said Mrs. Grey, not a
little pleased at the girl's close observation; "emphatically right. In my observation of life, I have
seen plenty of illustrations to prove that you are.
"Listen, while I rehearse:
"' John!'
"' Sir!'
"'Go up-stairs and get my slippers.'
"John makes no answer, gets the slippers unwillingly, resumes his book, or whatever work he may
be at, and then:
"' John! John Burt!'
"'Sir!'




54          THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"'What under the sun did you bring these old
slipshods for? I wonder if you ever did an errand
right in your life? I never saw such a boy. Take
them up-stairs, and get the other pair. And be quick
about it, too. I can't sit here in my stocking-feet
all night.'
" Or put it thus:
"'John, my boy?'
" Yes, papa!'
"' I wish you'd trot up-stairs for my slippers?'
"'Yes, papa!'
"' And don't bring the old ones; they're done for;
bring the pair Susy worked for me.'
"' Yes, papa, all right.'
"'Ah, thank you, old fellow! When I am thirteen
and you are fifty, I'll- do as much for you. How nice
it is to have a pair of young legs at one's service!'
"Now, all this may seem small business, but this
boy is being educated into refinement, and courtesy,
and kindliness, or the reverse."
"Curiously enough," said Belle, "without having
any conscious theory on the subject, I have always
acted on this principle with my children."
"Are children, then, mere monkeys, imitating all
they see done?" asked Laura.
"They are not," was Mrs. Grey's reply. "Some
children are so original that they cannot.imitate.
They think and act for themselves. They are hard




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            55
to deal with in most cases, each needing a mother
all to itself. But they are the exception, not the
rule. Most of us owe almost everything to unconscious influence."
But all serious talk was for the time put an end to,
by a curious little incident. One of the nurses entered the room, leading by the hand Laura's baby-'
girl, who had just learned to walk. Another baby,
who had not yet attained this art, was creeping
about, picking up and putting into its mouth everything it could find; and no sooner did the older child
perceive this, than down it went on all-fours, and
began to creep too, to the great amusement of all
present.
"How perfectly ridiculous!" said Laura, snatching
up and kissing her child.'"'She stooped to conquer,'" said Margaret.
And then followed any amount of youthful talk,
and nursery tales from the family urchins. Mrs.
Grey's extraordinary memory, where everything they
ever said and did was stored up, together with Some
that, amid no little protest and fun, was warmly challenged.




CHAPTER V.
"I HAVE always wondered," Laura proclaimed at
the dinner-table that night, "how I came to be
such a charming creature. But in the light of this
morning's instructions, I perceive that it is through
constant imitation of mamma."
Now as Laura was considered in every way
unlike her mother, this sally called forth, as it was
intended to do, numerous personalities.
"The resemblance is, indeed, astonishing," said
Belle. "For instance, you are punctuality itself."
"Of course," said Laura.
"What unblushing effrontery!" cried Belle.
"And I suppose you never lose money; keep your
accounts to a T; can keep a secret-"
"Oh, as to that," said Laura, " I am of too generous a disposition to keep anything. You see it is all
owing to the nobility of my character that I have the
reputation of being such a leaky vessel that you all
turn me out of the room, when anything is going on
you don't want the whole town to hear. By the by,
(56)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             57
mamma, you haven't told me what your irext book is
to be about?"
"It is to be the history of Mrs. Laura Hosmer, nie
Grey," said her mother. "Therein will be set forth
all her gifts and graces, her deeds and her misdeeds."
" And a most instructive and entertaining work it
will be," cried Laura. "I shall buy up a whole edition to give to my friends, shan't I, baby? Mamma,
what a mistake you made in giving me the name you
did," she ran gaily on. "All the Lauras one reads
about in books are such proper creatures! See Miss
Edgworth's stories, for instance. Look at her Lauras.
But really, now, what is your next book to be?"
Mrs. Grey smiled and shook her head.
"Very well, if you won't tell me, I shan't tell you
what mine is to be."
" Yours! " cried everybody, amused and incredulous.
"Oh, I don't see anything to laugh at," protested
Laura. " Pray why shouldn't I write books as well
as mamma?"
"Mamma didn't begin at your age," said Belle.
"She began about as soon as she was born; and so
would you if you had inherited her gifts."
"That doesn't follow," said Laura. "And I have
hit upon a capital subject! Now just listen." And
in an animated way she imparted her secret.
"It is capital," said Belle. "But it is foolish to
3*




58         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
proclaim it. Next news some one will get hold of
it and cut you out."
"Yes; I think so, too," said Mrs. Grey.  "I
shouldn't mind cutting you out myself."
"If you did, it would be your first dishonorable
action," said Belle.
The children were all brought in now, and had a
frolic till bed-time, when they were escorted off by
mammas and nurses, and Mrs. Grey and Margaret
were left alone.
"Oh, aunty," said Margaret, as the door closed,
" Ido wish I had a baby!"
"I don't see that I can help you to one," was the
reply. "But I am glad to see your love for the little
folks, and when Belle goes home, I think I can persuade her to leave Mabel with us for a while."
"Oh, she'll never do that. Mabel is such a perfect
little darling!"
"I have usually charge of the last robin while a
new one is settling into the nest. It keeps me young,
and it relieves Belle. In fact, what with one thing
and another, there are almost always some of the
little ones here."
"I'm so glad! so glad! I shall take the whole
care of them."
"And at the same time study, draw, paint, and
dabble with a thousand other things?"
"I can study evenings.  As to painting-why,




THE HO'ME AT GREYLOCK.           59
aunty, it's nice to paint; but there isn't any picture
in the world to be compared to a little live baby!"
"I haven't seen all the pictures in the world," said
Mrs. Grey; "but I do not doubt that God makes
objects of beauty that man can, at best, only imitate.
Margaret, my child, do you know how relieved, how
thankful I am, to find this true womanly instinct so
strong in you? I have been afraid you might live in
the mere gifts of genius you must know you possess,
and crowd out the feminine element. But you are
safe. A little child shall lead you."
" Why, aunty, I never knew I had any gifts," Margaret whispered.
"There will be plenty of worshippers to tell you
so, sooner or later. But I want to impress it upon
you, that the greater your gifts the greater your
responsibility. Now several paths lie before you.
You can devote yourself to art and win a name for
yourself, I do not doubt. Or you can choose a literary life, and shine there. And if it were necessary
for you to do something for your own support, either
of those careers would be honorable. But there is
a third vocation in a human sphere open to you.
It is to be one of the truest, the best, the most
unworldly, most unselfish of women."
"Like you, aunty," said Margaret, her eyes moistening. "I choose your vocation."
They sat silently together after this, until the rest




60o        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
of the family joined them; and after a time Laura
asked:
"Where is Hatty? Seems to me it takes her an
age to get her kittens to bed."
" Something is going wrong with Kitty," explained
Belle. "I thought Mabel would never get to sleep,
it distressed her so to hear Kitty cry."
"But why should Kitty cry?" asked Mrs. Grey,
uneasily. i' She appeared to be perfectly well when
she went up to bed."
"It's something about saying her prayers," said
Belle, reluctantly. "Poor Hatty means right, but I
think she makes mistakes."
"That child is crying dreadfully," said Laura,
going out into the hall, and listening.  "Hatty
doesn't know how to manage her. Mamma, do go
up and see what the matter is."
Mrs. Grey hesitated. She was not fond of meddling with her sons' wives.
Just then, however, a servant appeared with a message to the effect that "Mrs. George" would like to
see her, and she flew up-stairs, alarmed. She found
Hatty flushed and excited, standing over Kitty, aged
twenty months, fast asleep on the floor, her breast
heaving, the tears shining on her lashes.
"Oh, mother, what shall I do? Kitty wouldn't say
her prayers, and I said she shouldn't go to bed till
she had, and I slapped her arms over and over




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            6i
again, and she wouldn't yield, but at last dropped to
sleep here on the floor. And I've got to leave her
here all night, and she'll catch her death of cold.
Oh, dear, I wish I'd gone home with Fred. Fred can
always conquer her."
"tMy dear Hatty," said Mrs. Grey, "I am very
sorry for you."
There was no reproach in tone or look, but the sincere sorrow of a loving, sympathizing heart, and
Hatty, young and inexperienced, burst into tears.
" I never saw such a will," she said, " never."
"She comes honestly by it," was the reply; "and
it will be of service by and by. Meantime I would
put her into bed, if I were you."
"But that would be breaking my word; and Fred
says I must never do that. He says there is a special
blessing for him who swears to his own hurt. Oh, my
little darling, how can I let you lie on that cold floor
all night? "
"It is unfortunate to threaten children.  But I believe all do it in their youth and inexperience. In
this particular case I think you ought to break your
word as to its letter. As to its spirit you do not
break it; you certainly never meant to treat this dear
little lamb cruelly."
"But suppose I put her to bed, and she remembers
what passed between us to-night, shan't I lose my
hold on her? Won't she expect to disobey me again?"




62 -       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"I hardly think this baby-memory will recall tonight's scenes in a definite way. If it does we will
devise some way in which to preserve its faith in you.
Come, shall I put the little thing to bed? I haven't
threatened it, you know."
"Oh, dear, I wish Fred was here. Fred is so
particular about having Kitty obedient. He says
it is indispensable."
" I am glad to hear it, and glad to know that you
two are united in your plans for the child. And
now, suppose as you are a little confused as to your
duty, we kneel down and get counsel from One who
knows how to set you right."
A few simple words followed, and as they rose, the
young mother threw her arms around Mrs. Grey's
neck, and kissed her.
"How I love you!" she said.  "Fred said I
should if I stayed long enough to know you. I'm
glad I stayed."
And here baby woke up, rubbed her eyes, and
smiled.
"'Me rested now; me say p'ayer now," she said.
"Me was bely tired."
"I thought this was how it would end," said
Mrs. Grey. "The little creature was all tired out,
not naughty.  I am afraid you and I should not like
to have our arms slapped when we were too tired to
pray."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            63
"I hope I never shall threaten my poor little
kitten again," said Hatty, as she tucked the child
snugly in its crib. " Why, I am almost ill with the
pain I have suffered.  But now about to-morrow
night?  Suppose Kitty forms a habit of refusing
to say her prayers? "
"Dear Hatty, the children of believing parents
never form habits of disobedience."
"Oh, are you sure of that? I know a number
of truly good and faithful parents whose children
have turned out badly in every way."
"Investigate the cases and you will find something
wrong in the parents. It may be neglect, it may be
over-doing; it may be too much will, it may be too
little will; I do not know, and unless I can be of service in the matter, do not want to know the history
of individual experiences. But when I see a brook
muddy, I like to know who stepped in to trouble
it, whether man or beast, especially ff I am obliged to
drink from it."
Hatty smiled.  "I rather think it was I who
stepped into this brook," she said; "I thought I was
acting for Kitty's best good, but perhaps I was
as willful, and as resolved to have my own way, as
she was. But before you go I want to ask you if we
may pray about little things?"
" How little?"
"Well-for instance, what you did just now?"




64         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" My dear Hatty, it is not a little thing to own our
human helplessness, and cast ourselves on Divine
strength."
"But when it comes to a conflict between a mother
and child, a mere baby like Kitzie, ought the Lord of
heaven and earth to be expected to interfere?"
"Let us judge Him out of His own mouth. Recall His language as He moved about on earth
among just such beings as we are. He says, distinctly, that He feeds the fowls of the air, sees to the
growth of the lily of the field, that no sparrow falls to
the ground without His notice and consent, and that
He takes such personal interest in each of His
children that He knows exactly how many hairs we
each have in our heads. Can the tenderest mother
say anything like this? "
"It is very puzzling."
"No, my dear, it is very simple. It is just taking
God at His word. Now, you sent for me, a mere
mortal, fallible woman, to sympathize with and help
you out of an emergency. Do I then love you better
than your Father does? Am I any more ready to
come to your rescue than He is?"
"'Do you mean, then, that we are not to seek
human counsel, but just go to Him about everything?"
"No; I believe also in taking counsel of flesh and
blood. The answer to your prayer for light must




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           65
come from God, but He often sends those answers
through human agency. And so I am very glad you
sent for me to-night. I love to be intrusted with
His commissions. And now don't you think we
ought to go down and join the rest of them? "
As they entered the library, every one took a hasty
glance at their faces, and the tranquil expression of
each satisfied what anxiety they had felt.  The next
day was Sunday, and quite a procession set off
for church. Margaret came last of all, leading her
beloved little Mabel by the hand. The child had
never been to church before, and her mother thought
taking her there such a doubtful experiment, that
when Margaret proposed it, she demurred a little.
Finally, she consented to her occupying a seat
whence she could be easily removed, if troublesome.
Then she made her stand at her knee, took her
hands in hers, and said:
" Mabel, darling, we are all going to God's house,
because we love Him, and He wants us to come."
" Yes, mamma."
"And it isn't like other houses; people who go
there do not go to talk, and laugh, and play; they
go to pray to God, and sing to Him, and hear about
Him. And it isn't nice for little children to fidget
and whisper while that is being done. And if I let
you go to His house this morning, I shall expect
you to sit still, and not to say a word."




66         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Yes, mamma. Will Christ be there?"
This child, through her whole life, invariably spoke
of God as Christ.
"Yes, dear, He will be there, and will look at my
little Mabel, and know if she is quiet. But you will
not see Him; no one does that."
And then turning to Margaret, she said:
"Have you ever taken a little child to church?"
"Oh, no! I wasn't born among such luxuries."
"As a general rule, it is anything but a luxury to
break these little colts in. They are accustomed to
have liberty of action and of speech at home; they
do not understand the services at church, they get
tired, they nestle, and, if allowed, will whisper, on an
average, once in three minutes. Now, if Mabel
whispers to you, take no notice whatever; be lost in
attention to what is going on. I lay great stress on
this. If my children go to church, they shall not
distract me or annoy others."
This reminded Margaret of many and many a
scene she had witnessed at church, and supposed, as
far as she had thought of it at all, a necessary evil.
At first, in full remembrance of what her mother had
said, Mabel sat very still, but before long she began
to grow tired and restless.
"Is it most done?" she whispered.
Margaret appeared to be deaf, and Mabel repeated
the question.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.              67
Margaret's deafness increased.
"I'm thirsty," said Mabel.
No answer.
" Doesn't Christ keep any water in His house?"
Here Margaret was tempted to smile, and so open
the way for a discussion. But she was true to Mrs.
Heath's direction, and presently the child, finding it
useless to try to gain attention, gave up the attempt. Now, in most cases, it is the mother herself
who is to blame when her little one claims and absorbs her chief attention at church. If she replies
to its question, she sets it an example of talking
during public worship, an act not to be tolerated,
unless a case of illness makes it necessary. And as
long as she will listen and reply, the child will vent
its restlessness and weariness by incessant whispering. Rather than receive no notice at all, it will call
forth such expressions as these:
"Julia, if you don't keep still, you sha'n't come to
church. Julia, you must not get down from your
seat. Julia, if you keep up this whispering I can't
hear the sermon. You're thirsty? Well, I can't
help it. Tired? I told you you would be tired, but
you would come. Put down that fan. Don't open
my parasol. What a naughty little girl you are!"
On their return from service, Mrs. Heath asked
how  Mabel had behaved, and Margaret reported
things just as they were.




68         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"I learned that scheme of deafness from mamma,"
said Mrs. Heath.'" She never would listen to a word
from us at church."
"Fred says she gave him warning one Sunday
morning that if he got down from his seat, as he had
a trick. of doing, she would take him home," said
Hatty:
"Yes, Hatty, I remember her doing that, and he
never forgot it. Mamma had been an invalid, and
unable to attend church, and his nurse used to take
Fred, and she let him behave outrageously. It made
a sensation, I can tell you, when mamma led him,
roaring, down the broad aisle," returned Laura.
After dinner, Mabel was allowed to stretch her
limbs by playing with Kitty; then her mother read
to her and to the child next in age. Mabel sat with
her doll in her arms, but intent on the reading.
" Why, Belle  " said Hatty, who was beginning to
get over shyness that had kept her silent hitherto in
the family gatherings. "Do you let Mabel have her
playthings on Sunday?"
" I never made any laws for my children in regard
to Sunday, save this: they should not be noisy on
that day, and disturb those who wanted quiet. As
soon as they ceased to be mere animals, and began
to reason and to imitate, they laid aside their toys
on Saturday night of their own accord."
" But Mabel has her doll."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            69
"Yes, she has her baby, and you have yours."
Hatty, in fact, played more with Kitty on Sunday
than on any other day in the week, except on
nurse's afternoon " out"; for, like most mothers, she
had charge of her child in order to let the servants
attend church. And she would have thought the
Lord a very hard Master if He had denied her this
privilege. Mabel, on the other hand, had left off
playing on Sunday, though she still allowed herself
to hold her baby in her loving little arms. Now, is it
likely that He who implanted this maternal instinct
begrudged this child the caress she gave her doll?
"I don't think the cases are parallel," objected
Hatty. "I must have Kitzie, and must amuse her.
My mother locked up all our toys on Saturday
night."
"Yes, many mothers do, and pride themselves on
it. And so, as children must and will have occupation, they are likely to eat apples, gingerbread, or
whatever they can get hold of, to pass away the
time. This makes them heavy and ill-natured, and
they get to quarrelling."
"But think how strict the old Jewish law was!
A man stoned to death for picking up sticks!"
"The world was in its infancy then; and at any
rate, He who made the law had His own reasons
for it. But we live under a new dispensation, and
ours is a Christian, not a Jewish, Sabbath. I have a




70         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
great dread of making it a disagreeable day to my
children."
"But you can't deny," said Laura, joining the
group with her baby, "that there is awful laxity in
regard to the Sabbath nowadays."
" No, I do not deny it; there always is reaction
after pressure. It is to be hoped that things will
right themselves in time."
"Well, I wish the Bible had given explicit directions about everything."
" Hasn't it?"
" No, indeed. Here are you and Hatty, both good
souls as ever lived, taking contrary views of so apparently plain a thing as to how to keep Sunday.
Now, the promise to those who don't do their
own ways, nor find their own pleasure, or speak
their own words, staggers me as much as any admonition or threat could. Thousands of Christians will
tell you this is their ideal of Sunday; but who lives
up to it?  Goodness! Think of the worldly talk
that has gone on to-day among those who profess to
be saints!"
" Now you go too far, Laura," said Belle.
" No, I don't, an atom'too far. Didn't I dine, not
a month ago, at the Rev. Dr. Enoch Rivers', just
after he had preached one of his solemn sermons,
and didn't he slip into his luxurious dressing-gown
and have his own way in it? And didn't he seek his




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            71
own pleasure when he sat down to his roast-beef?
And didn't he speak his own words exactly as if it
was Monday?"
" And if he had preached while eating his dinner, you
would call him a prig. And you surely would not ask
him to come to the table in gown and bands! And
as to the roast'beef, what could be more wholesome?"
But by this time signs of discomfort and weariness
began to show themselves in the little Heaths, and
though their mother saw fit to be blind and deaf to
this at church, she would not neglect them elsewhere.
So dropping all further discussion, she turned as she
always could, into a bright, animated, live mother,
and entertained and interested her little flock, till it
was time for tea. Sunday to them meant a great
deal of mamma; a good many stories, sweet singing,
cheerful faces, and invariably some special indulgence,
such as having their bread-and-milk in special silver
or special china, and eating with special spoons. No
hard tasks were given on this day, such as committing to memory chapters from the Bible, hymns, catechism; it was entire rest.
Mr. and Mrs. Heath wanted their children to love
God's day, and respect it, but they shrank from making them dread it as one full of needless restriction,
hard tasks, toils, and tears. Nor were they willing to
force them to spiritual exercises too early, or to incur
the hazard of religious disgust by long exhortations.




72          THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Their aim was so to live the week throughout, as they
would have their children, in their measures, live.
To the casual spectator, they seemed to do very
much less for them than other Christian parents did
for theirs. But the fact is, they never lost sight of
their best interests, but pursued those interests quietly, persistently, without parade or fuss, and with the
deepest possible sense, that under God they would
lose or gain everything through them.
Happy are the children that are in such a case.




CHAPTER VI.
As the next day was stormy, there was no going
out for any one, and everybody seemed to have some
special business on hand that kept the groups apart
until after lunch, when they all got round the library
fire, and Mr. Heath volunteered to read aloud to
them. This answered very well for a time, but by
degrees the ladies of the party fell into an animated
discussion which silenced his voice. Of course the
subject was a very important one.
"I never heard of such a thing," said Laura;
"mamma, Mag does it all on the right side, and so
beautifully! "
"But it should be done first on the wrong side and
then on the right," said Belle.
"Oh, no, all on the wrong side," said Laura.
"Why, no," said Mrs. Grey, " you should pick up
the stitches all around, draw the hole partially together, and then fill in-so."
Each was sure she was right, that all the others
were wrong, and so they went on, laughing, explaining,
4                       (73)




74         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
exclaiming, and declaiming; the Rev. Mr. Heath looking on amused and puzzled, and wondering on what
mighty deed these vivacious creatures were intent.
" How provoking that Cyril cannot act as umpire,"
said Laura; "but of course he knows nothing about
it."
"What is there, pray, that I know nothing about?"
he cried.
" Why, how to darn a stocking, to be sure."
" Ah, I have you there," he said, gravely. "Hand
me the biggest hole you have."
" As if I could hand a hole! "' Here's one of your own unconscionable hose," said
Laura, "with holes as large as oranges. Oh, Cyril,
how can you go so? Just suppose you should break
your leg sometime, and somebody take off your boot
and see such holes!",
" Oh, yes, and suppose when the surgeon comes to
set my limb, you refuse to let him approach me lest
he should discover my holey habits. There, I defy
any of you to mend a hole as quickly as I have just
mended this."
The grey stocking was passed from hand to hand
and received due disgust from every feminine soul.
Mr. Heath had gathered the hole into a hard bunch
and tied it with a bit of twine.
"Well, now, I maintain that my way is the only
true and proper one," he declared;" it saves time,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            75
saves eye-sight, saves yarn, and has the merit of originality."
" Oh, you men! " said Belle. " Mamma, you ought
to have seen his clothes when he got home from his
last European trip. They were a series of just such
bunches, and all his white garments were tied up
with black thread, and all the buttons sewed on his
coats and pantaloons had been sewed on with
white."
While this skirmish was going on, Margaret had
finished her work and slipped off to the children. It
was Saturday's work, but she had neglected it, and
everything else in her absorption in her new delight.
"Where's Mag?" asked Laura, suddenly missing
her.
"In the nursery, I'll venture to say," said Mrs. Grey.
" She's a perfect enthusiast about those buntlings,"
said Mr. Heath.
"So she is about everything," said Mrs. Grey.
" But the last idea, whatever it may be, fills her full,
and she can only, by a great struggle with herself,
find interest in anything else."
"What an inconvenient character to possess," said
Mr. Heath. "It is fortunate for my people that I
am not of that sort. Fancy my spending weeks shut
up sermonizing, and then forsaking that sort of work,
and taking to visiting; and then staying both employments and falling to reading."




76         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Why, I don't know that it would be so much amiss,"
said Laura.'"You could make up a batch of sermons when the mood was on you, and that care off
your mind you could wander round your parish at
your own sweet will, and then, as you would have
written and talked yourself out, you might, very
properly, read yourself up again."
"There's no use in discussing Margaret," said Mrs.
Grey. "You can't, any of you, possibly understand
her, in this short time."
" But I see no complications or contradictions in
her," said Mr. Heath; "and if there are none, why
should we not understand her? What I should
say of her is this: she is a shy, rather awkward, undeveloped girl, very young in her feelings, and so preferring the society of children to that of grown persons, and will, one of these days, make somebody a
nice sort of a wife."
"Oh, you men!" repeated Belle, "you can't see
through mill-stones when they have holes in them."
" If you mean by that, that I can't read a feminine
at a glance, of course you are right."
"It provokes me to think Harry has so little discrimination," said Laura, " that he might have married a dozen girls whom he would have adored as
much as he does me. Men are so queer. They fall
in love to-day with black eyes, and are sure they shall
never think of any other maidens. And then, to



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            77
morrow, its all'blue eyes, of course.' The fact is,
marriage is a mere lottery."
"Oh, for shame, Laura," said Belle; "I am sure
Harry never could have been happy without you.>
You were made for each other. However, you were
not in earnest; you never are, so what's the use of
arguing with you?"
"Well," returned Laura, "it makes me feel so flat
when Cyril reads such a girl as Margaret superficially.
Why, that girl is a genius."
Mr. Heath smiled incredulously, but further argument was put an end to by the triumphant entrance
of all the children, followed by Margaret. She had
been teaching them an exercise it is impossible to
describe: it was not a dance, nor yet a romp; but
they made as pretty and unique an exhibition as it is
possible to imagine, delighted themselves, and delighting the spectators. But as they whirled about
the room, there flew out of Mabel's pocket a lump of
sugar. The child stopped, blushed, and looked anxiously at her mother, who rose instantly, and led the
child to her room.
"Who gave my little Mabel the sugar? " she asked,
gently.
Mabel burst into tears,
"I didn't eat it, mamma! I wasn't going to eat
it! I was going to give it back, I was."
Mrs. Heath could not doubt the child's sincerity;




78         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
every tone of her voice said that, plainly.  But that
she had taken it by stealth, under sudden temptation, was equally clear. She remembered that she
had herself placed her, standing on a chair, to regulate a shelf in the nursery closet, an amusement in
which she was often indulged at home, and that a
bowl of sugar was on this shelf. Now, in the case of
her elder children, whose consciences were well
aroused, Mrs. Heath did not find it necessary to keep
them out of temptation of this sort; but she was usually careful to be watchful over the little ones. She
blamed herself, now, for not putting the sugar out of
reach, and as Mabel had, apparently, repented of her
petty theft, and not eaten the coveted lump, she felt
puzzled to know what course to pursue.
At last she said, tenderly, but decidedly, " My little
Mabel knew it was wrong to take the sugar, but I am
glad she meant to put it back. Never take aznything
without leave. And the next time you want a lump
of sugar very, very much, don't go and get it, and
grieve mamma, and please Satan, but come straight to
me and tell me all about it. Very likely I shall give
you the lump, for I would rather give you a whole
bowlful than have you take the tiniest bit yourself,
because God wants all His little girls to be perfectly
honest."
After the children were in bed that night, Mrs.
Heath sought her mother's council in the matter.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            79
"Ought I to have punished Mabel?" she asked.
"It was a difficult case to manage. I cannot doubt
her word. She never has shown the slightest disposition to falsehood."
" I think you were wise in doing nothing but give
an earnest warning. But I would keep my eye upon
her if I were you. You know the tendency to peculate dainties is so inherent in children that the Germans
have invented a word for it, a verb, in fact."
"Yes; and this sort of peculation in a child might
run into great criminality in an adult. You can't
think what pains I have taken to keep the children
free from this evil habit."
"One point is to keep them so busy and so happy,
that they will not have time to hanker after forbidden
dainties. Another is just what I presume you do:
show sympathy with them in their frailties; tell them
to come and ask for the luxuries they are in danger
of appropriating feloniously, and as far as it is good
for them, indulge them."
"Yes, I do that; yet isn't there danger of pampering gluttony?"
"No danger that a sensible woman, like you, will
do that. You will easily lead the children to despise
gluttony. And want of sympathy with them in their
youthful longings after good things, will be sure to
engender habits of deceit and dishonesty."
"What power the little creatures have to pain us,"




80         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
said Belle. "Oh, how it hurt me when I saw that
bit of sugar! How it hurt!"
" My dear Belle," replied Mrs. Grey, " I considered
you a very conscientious child, but you are a far more
conscientious woman. Some might think you take
this trespass of little Mabel's too much to heart; but
I do not think so. If all young mothers looked at
sin as you do, our eyes would not be assailed every
time we take up our morning journal with the staring words,' Embezzlement!''Fraud!''Burglary!''Murder!'"
"But, mamma, though my children have had their
little faults and foibles, this is the first dishonorable
act I have ever met with among them. There were
certain things I was determined to have-obedience
and uprightness."
"By uprightness you do not mean perfection?"
" No, I mean by it just what you do: freedom from
everything mean and petty; a tendency upward,
instead of tendency downward."
"And don't you see that this desire has come
from God, and that He has responded to it?
Don't you know that your children are wonderful
children?"
"Perhaps they are, but I am not sure. They have
been free from the temptations to which many others
are exposed, because I have just lived in my nursery
and kept the peace there. And their father enters




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            81
into all my plans for them, and is not only kind,-he
is positively, and on principle, courteous to them."
"Yes, I see that. And you do not know what a
mercy this is. Some men, even good men, as the
saying goes, seem to think an imperious, harsh tone
to their children, perfectly becoming. I can recall
some scenes of discord that it makes me sick to think
of. I saw a hand-to-hand fight once, between a father
and a boy of fourteen. The latter had got irritable
over his Greek; his father, a naturally impatient man,
reproved him for it, in a sharp way, and at an unfortunate moment; (it is such a mistake to find fault at
an untimely season) and the boy answered back.
This called forth a severe reprimand; then came an
impertinent reply; then an attempt to box on the
boy's ears, which, being nearly as tall and strong as
his father, the fellow resisted; then followed a scene
which I am afraid is witnessed too often in that spot
which ought to be a Paradise, but which ungoverned
passion can turn into a hell."
Belle listened in painful silence.
At last she said:
"If my husband were that sort of man; if he so
tampered with one of my boys-I should drop dead
on the spot. Oh, mamma! do you really think such
scenes occur in decent homes? - in homes where
children are beloved? "
"Here you come to head-quarters. A happy home
4*




82         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
is one where first of all God is loved. Secondly, and
as a sequence, where father and mother and children
love each other."
"But all parents and children love each other," said
Laura, who had just joined them.
"Yes, but there is love and love. Family affection
is an instinct; even animals have it. But the sort of
love to which I refer is of a higher sort. For instance,
you are my child, less than two years of age, say. I
caress and pet you. I supply all your wants, we get
on admirably together, till some day you refuse to
obey a direction I have given you. Now I may
know, well enough, that I ought to oblige you to
obey me, but I am weak and irresolute and selfish;
I say to myself, I love my child too well to punish
it; but do I speak the truth?"
"No, you deceive yourself," said Belle.
"Well, here is another method. Suppose I suddenly take you by the shoulders and give you a good
shaking, or an angry blow?"
"The case is not supposable," said Laura, who
could not be serious half an hour at a time.
"Don't, please, make a jest out of everything," said
Belle; "I have got mamma agoing and I want to
hear her talk."
" Then let me call Hatty if we are to have a treatise
on education," said Laura, who rushed off and brought
back her young sister-in-law with great zeal.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             83
"Go on, mamma," said Belle. "We are talking
about the way to deal with such little folks as yours,
Hatty."
" I was saying," Mrs. Grey went on, " that my little
child disobeys me; I may refuse to punish it under
the delusion that I love it too well, or I may rudely
shake or strike it. Both acts would proceed from
selfishness and want of self-discipline. A hasty shake
or a hasty blow, means anger, and does not mean
love.  It means something un-Christ-like, and is,
therefore, unholy. Now, there is yet a third course
before me. I may refuse to act from impulse, and
resolve to act from the principle of love to the child,
not its mere emotion."
" The principle of loze?" Hatty repeated, in a low
voice to herself.
"Yes, my dear. Love, as a principle, can make
God its supreme object, while the emotion is, or
appears to be, wanting; and this is true of all our
earthly relations. Now I love my child better than
I do myself, and I am going to hurt myself for its
sake.  It must learn obedience for its own sake.
Therefore, whenever it opposes its will to mine, some
penalty shall invariably follow."
"What, for instance?" asked Hatty, eagerly.
"Oh, there can be no one rule. The gentler the
punishment the better, if the object desired is gained.
We are dealing now with a child under two years of




84         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
age. The tender little creature will not need the
thunder of the law. Put it in a corner; seat it in a
chair apart from the rest; it may be safe to shut it
up in a closet, but it may not be; it depends on
whether it is of a timid or a courageous character.
The point is to make it aware that it is under law.
With some natures this is easily taught."
" But what of a very willful one? " asked Hatty.
"Such a child will greatly tax parental faith and
patience," was the reply. "But it will yield to wise,
unselfish, Christian determination; and its strong
will, once disciplined, may become one of its most
serviceable characteristics."
"Would you use a rod?"
" What, on a little child? No."
"Hatty meant a metaphorical rod, I think," said
Belle.
"Yes, I did. I mean should one slap a child's
hands?"
"It depends upon the character of the mother, and
on that of the child. There is no one rule for all
parties. Children ought not to need corporeal punishment after they are two or three years old; and
if properly managed, I doubt if they need it at all.
But you see, my dear girls, that before a young
father and mother are fit to train children they must
be disciplined themselves. Pain should be inflicted
by them without ill-temper, without hasty impulse,




TIHE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           85
and in tender love. Children should know that love
lies at the bottom of all parental law, and is its
foundation."
"Doesn't it seem strange," asked Hatty, "that God
commits children to such youthful hands? Why,
how we blunder our way along! I have always heard
that the eldest child had the hardest time in the
family —the object of all sorts of experiments and
mistakes."
"The eldest child certainly has that disadvantage,"
said Mrs. Grey; "and it has also the added disadvantage of entering the world with characteristics
that children born later may possess but in a mellowed form. On the other hand, the first-born gets
most from its parents as its birthright. Belle, here,
has had a mother thirty years; but Fred has had one
only twenty-two."
" How funny!" said Laura.
"Oh, dear! nothing looks funny to me," said
Hatty, with a sigh. " Kitzie is so headstrong, and I
am such a young little mother, and know so little
how to manage her! And Fred can't endure spoiled
children."
"Why, Hatty, you are not spoiling Kitty," Mrs.
Grey said, with some surprise.
"Are you sure? Oh, but you don't see me at my
worst! I'm on my good behavior when I'm here,
trying to make you all love me. But devoted as I




86         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
am to Kitty, living among you all here has made
me see my own faults as I never did before. She
often provokes me so that I want to do Something
awful-something one of my teachers did to me
when I was specially naughty."
"What was that, pray?" asked Laura.
"Look daggers at her! " Hatty reluctantly replied.
" If you take lessons from my mother, you'll look
milk and honey, not daggers," said Laura. "Dear
me! do you know how late it is? Consider yourselves kissed, all around, for I'm off to bed." And
singing like a bird, Laura hopped away to her room,
hung lightly, for an instant, over her sleeping child,
and was soon asleep, not much more than a child
herself.




CHAPTER VII.
THIS was the last family council, for the time-as
Fred grew "wife and child sick," as he expressed it,
and came and bore them away in triumph; and the
Heaths, and Laura and her babies, soon followed.
Little Mabel alone remained, without a fear on
Belle's part that grandmamma would over-feed, or
spoil, or neglect her darling-who, for her part, was
content to stay with Margaret, between whom and
herself there had sprung up a beautiful friendship.
Before Fred bore away his household gods, he
sought a private interview with his mother, eager to
know what she thought of them; for immediately
on his marriage he had taken his wife abroad, and
this was the first time she and his child had come
under her roof.
"I think you a lucky fellow, young man," she said,
good-humoredly. "Hatty is coming into full sympathy with us, and has in her the makings of a very
fine woman, as Mrs. Goodwin once said of her
Sophie. I suppose you do not expect anything more
from me than this?"
(87)




88         Ti-E HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Now, mother, this isn't fair," he remonstrated.
"I never pretended that she was equal to you, or to
the girls; but she has a great deal of character, and
yet is very impressible. I can wind her round my
finger like a piece of silk."
" She's much more likely to wind you round hers.
She has a will of iron. But I do not object to that."
" Indeed you wouldn't if you could see her bear
pain. Oh, you'll love her to distraction when you
come to know her as well as I do.  Poor little thing,
how she did dread running the gauntlet of all you
keen-eyed, cultivated women!"
"You ought to have spared her that. You know
we never pick flaws in each other. Why, Fred, I expect, in time, to love Hatty just about as I love you.
But you know my affections move slowly."
" I know I never saw anyone whose affections move
with more rapidity," laughed Fred.  "But I suppose
a mother never finds a paragon worthy of her son."
" Oh, as to that, I consider Hatty quite your equal,
if not your superior. In fact, her greatest fault is one
she will outgrow."
"And what is that?"
" Youth. She stepped out of school into a nursery;
she has had no liberty, no stopping-place between
girlhood and motherhood. I cannot imagine how her
mother could permit her to marry so young, poor
child."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.             89
"Her mother could tell you the reason," said Fred,
with a good-humored smile that had in it just the
least touch of complacency.
"Well, the thing is done, at any rate. And now,
my dear boy, I charge you to make allowance for
Hatty, if, amid the wear and tear of domestic life, she
falls below the ideal you now make of her. Depend
upon it, there are no ideal characters on earth."
"Well, isn't Kitty a perfect beauty?"
"She is very pretty."
"Is that all you have to say? In my eyes, she is
the most beautiful child on earth. But as to her behavior, I can't say I have anything to boast of. She
is a little fury when she is provoked."
" Strange, isn't it? " said Mrs. Grey.
" But, mother, I have outgrown all that sort of thing.
And it is provoking to see one's faults repeated in
one's child. But you may depend upon it, we are not
going to spoil Kitty. Her mother fights her out on
every line of battle."
"But be cautious, Fred. This little human flower
must expand elsewhere than on a battle-field. You
can't begin too soon to let her see that intense, unselfish love lies at the bottom of all restraint and correction. You and Hatty are both, by nature, law-givers,
and I do not doubt you will have a family of obedient
children, as you ought to do. But think of the goodness as well as the severity of God, when you disci



90         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
pline your child. Never enter upon a conflict with
her without asking Him how to proceed; in this way
you will avoid a thousand mistakes."
Fred colored and looked embarrassed. It had not
occurred to him that a grown-up man was not quite
equal to the task of training a little child; on the
contrary, he had rather prided himself on his skill.
" To go back to Hatty," he said, " she is perfectly
wild about you."
"Well, then, if you have failed to find me as enthusiastic about your little wife as you hoped to do, I
may as well own here that I am not fond of having
people'perfectly wild' about me. It can't last. I am
no angel; and it isn't pleasant to be soaked in hot
water one day, and left to freeze the next. Just as
soon as Hatty will let me get off the throne on which
she has placed me, and seat myself on the every-day
chair on which I belong, I shall love her and enjoy
her love as I can't do now, when I have a mean sort
of feeling that she is giving more than she gets, and
that I am taking more than I deserve. Now the murder is all out, and we can start a little more fairly and
squarely than we did at first."
Fred smiled and took the frank hand his mother
offered him in both his.
"I wouldn't own Hatty if she did not admire my
mother," he said. "And do you think there is a fair
prospect of Kitty's turning out well at last?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            91
"Yes, my dear boy, if you will lay to heart the
counsel of your mother, and part with all pride and
self-reliance, and rely on Divine strength alone. Oh,
that I had realized this in the early years of my married life, and taken counsel of God at every step! "
" I don't see but we must go home and reconstruct
our domestic life," said Fred. "We were young and
strong, and of one mind; we were resolved to have
an obedient child, at any cost; and of course we
have prayed for her; but I am afraid not specifically
enough."
" Kitty is not a common child, and I dare say will
cost you a great deal. I would make just as few laws
for her as possible, and train her to obedience by long
patience. Never threaten her, never fight with her,
never strike her."
" Never fight with her! Why, mother, she disputes
every inch of ground. We have to fight with her.
And as to whipping her, why, I thought you believed
in the rod?"
"In some cases I do, but not in Kitty's. She has
such a strong character that you might, sometime,
whip her to death."
" She gets fortitude from her mother," said Fred.
"What are we to do with her, then? "
" Punish her, invariably, for every act of disobedience, and let the matter rest there."
"What, let her have her own way? Why, mother,




92         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
I know grand-parents generally do grow lax as they
advance in years, but I did not expect it of you. Oh,
you forget what rebels some of us were."
" No, my son, I do not forget. I look at life differently from what I once did. I know that, mingled
with some high principle, I had pride, self-reliance,
and self-will in the management of my children, and
now I want you all to have the benefit of my experience. You may depend upon it, there are times
when a wise parent must make humbling concessions
to a proud, excited child, when it is acting its worst
self."
"Well, now, suppose I tell Kitty to say' Please,'
and she won't, what am I to do?"
"You might threaten to whip her till she said it,
and she become so tired out as to be utterly unable
to utter the word. Parents are continually making
mistakes of this sort. A child has not always control
of its tongue. Doesn't yours sometimes cleave to the
roof of your mouth? And there is another thing,
Kitzie is shy. What it would cost an ordinary child
no effort to do, might be torture to her; you must be
careful what you direct her to do, lest you should demand something she cannot perform. I once knew a
timid girl of ten years, attempt to slip out of a room
full of company unobserved. When her mother called
her back to bid the party good-night she came directly, but blushing painfully, and the words she tried to




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            93
utter died on her lips. Her mother was a strict disciplinarian, and thought it her duty to say,'You cannot go to bed till you have obeyed me.' The child
stood there a long, long time, weeping bitterly; she
was not disobedient in her habits, she was tired, she
longed to get out of sight of those astonished eyes;
but the words would not come. At last, ready to
drop with fatigue, she shrieked them out, and was allowed to creep to bed, with a sense of being the
naughtiest girl in the world. Ah, Fred, let no careless word tamper with the delicate, complicated machinery of your child's soul."
" I shall go home a wiser, but a sadder man," said
Fred. "I never realized before that the work of
training up a child is such an awful task."
" It is only awful when undertaken by a fool or a
knave. You will find, as other children come to you,
that rules that apply to one, fail in regard to another.
What I have advised in regard to Kitzie, may not apply in the least to your Fred, Jr., when you get that
young man."
Fred Grey was worth all he had cost his mother,
for his was a strong, thoughtful character. And all
that she had now said to him impressed him, as it did
his wife, when he repeated it to her. Poor little baby
Kitty never had another battle with her resolute
young parents'; yet day by day she was learning obedience; day by day they were learning humility and




94         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
self-control. Their love to each other and to their child
grew purer and sweeter, and co-operating together in
all their plans for her, her lot bid fair to be a most
enviable one.
Mrs. Grey and Margaret had plenty of work on
their hands after quiet once more settled down upon
them. Letters and cards had accumulated, and must
be attended to; there were prot6g6s to look after;
there was Mabel to love and to watch and to care for.
And, as readers ought to know by intuition, but
young Master Accuracy declares they do not, there
was Mrs. Grey's new book on the stocks, and which the
Christmas festivities had brought to a stand-still,




CHAPTER VIII.
ALTHOUGH Mrs. Grey had spent a large part of her
life in the city of Gotham, that was not, at this time,
her home. When they had a house full.of boys and
girls she and her husband met with so many annoyances in their summer resorts, growing out of such a
flock to dispose of, that they at last secured a large
house in the vicinity, thereby not only adding greatly
to the comfort of the family, but improving their
health, since, with a table at her command, Mrs. Grey
could provide wholesome food for her family. Mr.
Grey's death occurred before any of the children had
become settled in life, and the loneliness of her widowhood was cheered by their presence. But when,
midway between fifty and sixty, she was left alone
with Maud, and ceased to have any special cares, she
became everybody's property, and was used by all
sorts of people in all sorts of ways. Soon after her
work on education appeared, she received numerous
letters, asking counsel in special cases to which she
had made no allusion there, the following being one:
(95)




96         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
DEAR MRS. GREY:-Charlie and I have just finished
your last book, and think you must be perfectly lovely! I should like so much to see you. May I come?
And if I may, will you tell me what train to take?
I have so many things to say to you. And Charlie
says he shall be so glad to have me come under your
influence.
Your admiring friend,
MRS. LIBBIE CLARE.
No. -, Fifth Avenue.
Mrs. Grey's keen eye took in the measure of " Mrs.
Libbie Clare" at a glance. But if it was keen it was
not unkind. Turning to Margaret, who sat near, she
said, "Will you answer this, and tell the child she
may come out by the 9: Io train any morning this
week? "
" Oh, aunty, you are not going to give up a morning to a woman who signs herself' Mrs.'? Can't she
come in the afternoon?"
" No, the days are too short."
"But, aunty, you have had no leisure for a long
time, and have got intent on your book again."
"Yes, dear, I know, but here is a chance to gratify
and perhaps be of use to one of those'neighbors'
we are told to love. Now, selfishness might urge me
to go on with my work, but obedience to Christian
duty may and ought to be stronger than self."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           97
Margaret said no more; but she was puzzled. She
did not understand the readiness shown by Mrs. Grey
to be "pulled about," as she termed it. Somehow
she felt sure that Mrs. Libbie Clare was not much of
a woman, and was coming to exhibit herself rather
than to see her aunt.
And she was right. Mrs. Clare was quite young,
was very proud of her husband and children, told
their whole history, gave her own views of education,
and hardly allowed Mrs. Grey to utter a word. Two
mortal hours she stayed, and then when she took leave,
put up her mouth for a kiss, without taking her hands
from her muff, said she had had a delightful visit, and
hoped it would soon be returned.
Mrs. Grey went back to her desk feeling decidedly
flat, and found that Margaret, according to her wont,
had been illustrating her MS. with a ridiculously funny
caricature of a young father holding his son and heir
most awkwardly in his arms, while there proceeded
from its mouth the words, "Oh, how he pinches! how
he pinches! "
She laughed, cut it out, and threw it into a drawer,
where kindred sketches already reposed. She had
just resumed her pen when Mrs. Grosgrain was announced.
"Who is Mrs. Grosgrain?" asked Margaret. "I
don't remember ever seeing or hearing of her."
"No, she was in Europe when you came here, and
5




98         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
has only just returned. I shall want her to see you,
sometime."  So saying, Mrs. Grey proceeded  to
meet her guest, and after some animated conversation together, the latter said:
"I hear you have adopted a young orphan girl, to
take the place to you of your darling Maud. Yet,
I don't see how you could."
"You have not heard the story quite correctly,"
replied Mrs. Grey. " It is true that I have adopted a
young girl of Maud's age, but not to fill her place.
No one can or ought to fill that. But there were
so many things left by her that were adapted to
gratify the taste of a young person, and that young
person a girl, that I longed to see them enjoyed.
There was Maud's piano standing idle; her rooms
tastefully furnished, left empty; and, to tell the truth,
plenty of love in this old heart to give away. That I
was to gain much, if anything, never crossed my
mind.  But all has turned out delightfully."
"Is she like Maud, then?"
"Not in the least. She is a girl of very marked
character; once I could not have tolerated her faults.
But she amuses me and keeps me young; and she is
going to become a very fine woman in time."
"And in the meanwhile?"
-" Why, I shall have to put up with some decided
opinions and habits that are not to my mind. But I
did not look for, or expect to find, a faultless charac



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            99
ter. Margaret has heart and soul; she has enthusiasm; she knows her own mind and decides upon this
and that at once, and once for all. She does not care
for music, as Maud did; in fact, she hates it."
"[fates it! "
Mrs. Grey smiled. "Oh, it is all love or hate with
her. She can't be indifferent to anything.  I found
she had decided, though undeveloped, artistic talent,
and she is taking lessons in drawing and painting. I
never met a person who could do so many things
well."
"Is not her sudden good fortune turning her
head?"
"Not at all. She has too much good common
sense for that. In any sphere she would have been
self-reliant, and perhaps appear, to some persons, conceited. But she is too proud to be conceited."
"Proud, indeed,'" thought Mrs. Grosgrain, who
did not comprehend the vigorous character described.
"I should think she had little to be proud of. Poor
Mrs. Grey, she ought to have a very different young
person about her at her time of life.  Some sweet,
lovely girl like little Matty Rhodes. Dear Matty! I
wish she had such a home as this. What a pity it all
happened while I was abroad. I would have spoken
a good word for the child if I had known. My sister
would have been so thankful to see one of her six
girls provided for."




I00        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
During this soliloquy, Mrs. Grey had gone on talking, but Mrs. Grosgrain had not heard a word, and
now took leave.
" Well, girls," she said, on reaching home, " I have
seen Mrs. Grey, but she did not exhibit her new
acquisition. Still, you must all go and call on her
prize."
" I don't intend to go," said Miss Grosgrain. "Mrs.
Grey ought not to expect people in society to fall in
with her oddities."
"You must either call on this girl or give up Mrs.
Grey altogether. She has taken her right into poor
Maud's place, and is quite infatuated about her;
although, from her description, I should judge her to
be a disagreeable creature."
" But to expect us to associate with a person picked
up out of the streets, as it were; really it is too
much."
"You needn't associate with her; merely go and
make a short call, just to keep up appearances with
Mrs. Grey, you know."
"Why not drop Mrs. Grey, and done with it?"
"Because we can't afford to have her drop us. You
seem to forget the struggle we have made to get a
position, and to fancy we can maintain it without
difficulty."
" We might forget it if you ever gave us a chance,.but you are forever reminding us of it.  People are




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I01
too glad to eat our splendid dinners, and to attend
our elegant parties, to drop us."
" Mrs. Grey never eats our dinners or comes to our
parties. Now, girls, I am determined to keep up the
acquaintance. Hers is one of the few old families we
have got into; she is rich, she is popular; one meets
nice people at her house, and my policy always has
been and always will be,'Hold fast what I give you
and catch what you can.'"
" For my part," said Miss Mary, "I am curious to
see and to put down this upstart of a girl. I flatter myself that I am gifted in that line."
"Yes, let's go," said Miss Flora, " it will be such
fun!"
Accordingly, the next day, the four Misses Grosgrain went in a body to call on Margaret. She had
just set her palette in order, to paint some tea-roses
before they began to droop, and was anything but
pleased at the interruption. The moment she laid
eyes upon them she conceived an aversion for them
which she found it almost impossible to conceal. They,
on their part, had made up their minds that she was
of low origin, and intended to make it at once clear
that the visit originated in no intention to gratify her.
"Mamma has told us about your singular good fortune," began the eldest young lady, " and desired us
to show our respect for Mrs.- Grey by calling on you."
Instantly hurt by this intentional sting, Margaret




I02        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
was tempted to reply in like manner. But she controlled herself, and said, stiffly:
" My aunt's friends are welcome, of course."
" Oh, is she your aunt, after all? " cried Miss Flora.
"We supposed you were not related to her in any
way.1"
"Nor am I," replied Margaret; and condescended
to no explanations.
" It was a curious freak of Mrs. Grey, taking you
up so, was it not?" inquired Miss Mary in a most innocent tone. "How surprised you must have been!
How strange it must seem to be suddenly introduced
to such new scenes! Do excuse our curiosity, we
would not do anything ill-bred for the world; but
how did you contrive to ingratiate yourself so with
her? "
"By no contrivance whatever; I scorn contrivance!"
" Oh, I did not mean to offend you."
" I am not offended."
"Well, touched, then.  Not one of us would
intentionally say anything ill-bred.  Mamma has
traiped us so carefully! We have just returned from
Europe, where we spent nearly three years. It is
very improving. You ought to coax Mrs. Grey to
take you abroad. You have no idea how refining it
is to see works of art, and to mix with cultivated
people."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            103
"I never coax," was the reply.
" Comnme e/de estfire/" said one sister to another.
" Et assez jaune!" said the other.
" Proud and yellow," repeated Margaret, " but unfortunately not deaf or dumb."
"Goodness!  Who could fancy you understood
French! What an unlucky blunder we have made."
" Our respect for Mrs. Grey —"
"Rules of good-breeding —"'Difficult position-"
cried the sisters in chorus, each warbling a different
tune, and each pretty thoroughly mortified and
embarrassed. There was nothing left for it but to
take leave.
"What a disagreeable scrape that girl has got us
into!" said Miss Grosgrain, as soon as they were safe
in their carriage.
"Well, it's rather hard, I must say," complained
another, "to have to demean one's-self to visit a
creature about whose antecedents one knows nothing.
Where can she have picked up French, I wonder?"
"Very likely from some fellow-servant, some nursery-governess, where she has lived," cried Miss Mary.
"Now, Mary Grosgrain, you don't mean that she
has been anybody's servant? "
"Well, I do not say that, positively, but I know
Mrs. Grey picked her up in a tenement-house.
Fancy our visiting an inmate of a tenement-house!"




I04       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" How tall she is! "
"And how she was dressed! Not a ring or a
bracelet, or a bow or a puff. But of course Mrs.
Grey has to keep her down."
"I saw a great smooch of paint on her sleeve,"
said Miss Mary.
" She hasn't a particle of style," said Miss Flora.
"Of course not; how should she?  She has not
had our advantages."
"I heard that she was a splendid-looking girl,"
said Miss Grosgrain.' From whom?"
"Fred Rogers."
"Pooh! Fred Rogers! "
" Mamma, we've had such a time," cried all four,
when they reached home. "Such airs as that girl
puts on. And somehow contrived to make us feel flat,
though she is a nobody. Mrs. Grey is altogether too
Quixotic. It is very annoying to have to humor her
whims. What in the world did she want of another
daughter, when she has a dozen or so of her own?"
" But they are all married, and live at a distance,
and she was getting old, and probably needed a companion to wait upon her, mend her lace, do her clearstarching, draw her checks, do her shopping, go to
market, and all that sort of thing," said Mrs. Grosgrain. "She has put her right in Maud's room. Of
all things how strange!  And has given away all




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           IO0
Maud's beautiful clothes! Why, if I should lose
either of you I should regard your garments as the
most sacred things in the world; no mortal should ever
touch them. But some people have so little feeling."
" It isn't quite fair to say that Mrs. Grey has little
feeling," said Miss Grosgrain, " for when they were
screwing down the lid of Maud's coffin she fainted
away. She's queer; that's the word to describe her
-queer."
" Well, yes, that is the word," said Mrs. Grosgrain.
"When I called the other day, she seemed-well, it's
an awful thing to say, and I hope you won't repeat
it, girls, but she actually seemed-happy! Why, if
one of you should die I should not have another
happy moment. I should consecrate my life to grief."
In the privacy of their own room that night, Miss
Grosgrain dutifully remarked to Miss Clara:
" Mamma did not' consecrate her life to grief' after
papa's death, but to spending his money."
"Oh, as to that, I think she did all he could hAve
expected," was the reply. "She wore the deepest
and the most fashionable mourning she could find;
had the deepest possible black edge to her cards, and
always put on a mournful expression whenever anyone called."
Miss Grosgrain smiled grimly.
"You are right as to the'mournful expression';
she did'put it on' with a vengeance."
5*




CHAPTER IX.
MARGARET, meanwhile, returned to her work, with
burning cheeks.
" It is true," she said to herself, " that people have
a right to sneer at me. My mother has been a servant and so have I. But we were not born to it,
either of us. Even if Mrs. Grey hadn't taken me up,
I shouldn't have spent my life in a kitchen. Nobody
ever did who could paint like that! And yet, my
poor father never got on, and it isn't likely I have
more talent than he had. But stop; it was only yesterday aunty was saying that gifts sometimes
overleap one generation; it is quite possible that I
had a grandfather or grandmother whose abilities
have come to me. How horrid it is not to know one's
relatives!"
Just here letters were brought in; one for Margaret, several for Mrs. Grey. - Margaret seized hers with
a thrill of surprise and delight, for this was an era in
her life, her first letter! And she has no objection to
our reading it:
(I06)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            IO7
DEAR MARGARET:-I cannot help loving you for
your love to my mother and to my little Mabel, and
wanted to tell you so when I was at home, but have
no faculty for showing what I feel. We are all-glad
mother has your bright face to look at when she misses
ours. And, Margaret, don't let her work too hard.
She does not realize how dear Maud's death has worn
upon her, but I see it plainly, and it almost vexes me
to see how she allows herself to be at everybody's
beck and call. And yet, I love her for it, too; it is
only living out her religion, as we all must learn to do.
Now, a word about my little pet; and don't laugh
at me as a silly mother who makes a fuss about trifles,
but please watch the lammie, without seeming to
do it, and if you see anything dishonorable dawning
in her character, write and tell me so. I know it is
generally a thankless task to tell mothers of their
children's faults, but I can bear it if it is done kindly,
though as bad as anybody if it is done unkindly.
Just now this is all I have time to say, except that I
am your affectionate sister,           BELLE.
"'Your affectionate sister, Belle!'"  Great, bright
tears filled Margaret's eyes as they fell upon the
words.
" How could I let those dreadful Grosgrains hurt me
so," she asked herself, "when I have such friends?
Oh, Belle, how I do admire and love you! But what




I08         THIE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
is this about my pet?  Mabel dishonorable?  That
little white lamb! I'm sure she isn't!"
She handed the letter to Mrs. Grey, and stood leaning over her as she read it.
" Isn't it just lovely in B.-Mrs. Heath-to write
me such a letter, and call herself my sister?"
"It is just like her," said Mrs. Grey, "and it is
worth having, because it cost her something. Now
it is different with Laura. Laura takes everything
easy."
"But what a curious question about Mabel! "
"Oh, that is on account of the bit of sugar the
child took from the nursery-closet."
"V When?"
"On the day you exhibited the children so prettily."
"And who dares say my innocent little darling is a
thief? " cried Margaret, her color rising. " I gave her
sugar in order to coax her to take her part with the
other children, for she was shy about it at first. Did
her mother fancy she took it herself?"
"She naturally thought so, but as the child had not
eaten it, and said she did not mean to do so, she did
not punish her."
"It is a thousand pities. But as Mabel knew herself to be innocent, why didn't she declare it? Why
did she blush  and cry as if she had done something wrong?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            I09
"Because she had done wrong in accepting it. It
never would answer for such a young child to eat
whatever injudicious persons chose to give it, therefore
Belle forbids her little ones receiving dainties save from
herself or some other authorized hand.  You can't
imagine how recklessly many people behave in such
matters. I have known a conscientious child to be almost laughed into eating and drinking forbidden luxuries, such as coffee, mince-pie, and rich cake."
"I did not know one had to be so careful with children."
" It is the case, though, and if it seems to you that
Belle has made too much of this affair, you must remember that she must adapt herself to the very small
world in which Mabel lives, and whose trivial wants
are as great to her as the most serious ones will be,
by and by."
"I shall write to B.-Mrs. Heath-this very minute,"
cried Margaret, " but what shall I call her?"
" I think she has settled that. Call her Belle. But,
before you begin I want you to see what a lovely little
note the mail has brought me!"
And if Margaret reads it, why shouldn't we?
DEAR MRS. GREY: —I have not the faintest idea that
you are pining for a letter from me, but it is a relief to
me now and then to say that I love you, and the size of
the sheet I write it on is no symbol how much.




IIO        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
I am reading a delightful book to my invalid auntie;
in it a lady speaks of a friend as an " Amen to the Bible." That, say I, is what Mrs. Grey has been to me.
Again, " Mrs. Jameson was the consoler of her sex in
England." Ah, say I, Mrs. Grey is the consoler of her
sex in America.
But you will think I have been kissing the blarney
stone. But when people mean things, can't they say
them?
I stay with auntie all the time, day and night, and
am real happy in a quiet way, for I do feel, in a small
degree, I know, but a great deal more than ever before,
the loving-kindness of my Heavenly Father, the good,
ness and severity of God.
Yours, lovingly and gratefully,
HELENA.
"What a graceful little note, and on what a tiny
sheet! " exclaimed Margaret. "Who is this Helena?
Any one I know?"
"You have never seen her, but she often visits
me, and I love her much. Her forte is in writing
charming letters.  I shall want you to know her.
But you want to write to Belle now, and I won't detain you."
Margaret rushed off to her room, and rushed, as it
were, a shovelful of hot coals at Belle, as reply to
her letter. Then what receptacle was worthy to




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           III
hold this treasure? Her eye fell upon one object
after another, and rejected them, till it rested upon
her Russian leather mouchoir-case.
"The very thing!" she cried; pulled out the handkerchiefs, thrust them, en mnasse, into a drawer, replaced them with the letter, and then flew to hug
and kiss Mabel, on whom she vented the feeling she
could not express.
Ah, Margaret, you will have many, many such
idols as you are now making of Belle Heath! How
many times they will fall off the altar, and you will
put them in their place again! What power they
will have to swell your heart with joy, to melt it into
tears! And yet-thank God that you have a heart!
for even an aching one is better than none at all.
"I want you to get dressed, now," said Mrs. Grey,
"for I have ordered the carriage, and am going to
make some visits."
Margaret groaned. She did not believe in paying
visits, except to very agreeable people, and was very
apt to be silent and stupid in company, unless it was
congenial. And this was not entirely her own fault.
It belonged to her type of character as much as her
gifts did.
She went off and dressed now, however, without a
word of remonstrance, for she was in a happy mood;
Belle s letter warming and brightening her.
As they drove from house to house, she chatted




112        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
gayly with her aunt of a score of innocent, girlish
things, and Mrs. Grey listened, and smiled, amused
at her keen observation, her simplicity and naturalness. Her mother had so guarded her life that she
was very ignorant of evil, and Mrs. Grey had kept up
this care successfully.
"I know how I would arrange things if I had the
management of them. I would go to see people I
loved, ever so often, and have them come to see me.
But I would have nothing to do with anybody else,
in the way of visiting them. Why not? Why should
those who do not love each other waste their time in
meeting? "
"And what reason would you give those you neglected for your conduct?"
"Oh, I would speak the truth; I would just say,
out and out, I don't love you, so I am not going to
see you; you don't love me, and so you needn't come
to see me."
"And how many friends should you have, at that
rate?"
"Not so very many, but they would all be after
my own heart."
"Well, now, let us see how your scheme will work.
Here are two sisters; you love one, and can't bear
the other. You make your frank statement to both,
asking the one to come to see you, and the other to
keep her distance; how much sympathy can exist




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            I I3
between them after it?  You probably will lose the
friendship of both.
"Take another instance. You meet with a person
with whom you fall in love, as you term it; she is
more cautious than you, and hesitates to give her
friendship until she knows you better. She asks
questions about you of sister Number Two, who replies,' All I know about her is, that she is very odd
and very rude, and thinks herself capable of reconstructing society.' Now, the fact is simply this. We
are all more or less dependent on each other. And
therefore we must put up with some people who are
not congenial to us, and they must put up with us."
"' Yes, I see. Wouldn't it be nice to have an island
which no disagreeable or stupid people would be allowed to visit! Everybody in it pleasant, and culti..
vated, and refined- like Belle, for instance."
"It might be nice, but not possible; and, if possible, not best. In the first place, there would be different opinions as to who would be eligible as inhabitants of your famous island. A. would object to B.,
and B. to C. Besides, life in this world is not to be
just to our minds. We need the discipline of contact
with uncongenial characters. But then, we are to
stay in this world but a short time. By and by we
shall go to a far more delightful and ideal spot than
your island; an abode into which will be gathered
the best, the wisest, the purest beings that ever
adorned earth."




114        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Still, it seems hard to have to waste so much precious time in driving about from house to house.
You have plenty of things to occupy every moment.
You have your books to write, and a thousand other
things to do; and as for me, with all the time I've
lost, it seems almost wicked to be going to see people
who care nothing for me, and for whom I don't care
a fig."
"The time is not wasted, however. I seldom, if
ever, make a morning visit without getting a new
thought from somebody; and as for you, you must
see something of the world, or be awkward and ill at
ease all your life. But here we are at Mrs. Wallace's; she has some pretty little children; they may
interest you."
Mrs. Wallace was a sweet-looking young woman,
and was followed into the parlor by three girls, who
soon gave evidence of being strong-minded females,
though the eldest was not more than ten years old.
They appropriated Margaret at once. One seized
her muff and pelted the others with it. Another insisted on unbuttoning her gloves. A third wanted to
know how much her hat cost. Now this may sound
like exaggeration, but it is the literal truth. Their
mother never seemed to realize that a forward, unabashed child is one of the most annoying and unnatural things in the world; she suffered these little
girls, who were not bad children, to form these offen



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           115
sive habits, and victimized all her friends with them.
When they had got all the entertainment out of
Margaret she was able to render them, they thought
she might be permitted to depart, and asked their
mother, in audible whispers, how long " they" were
going to stay. She whispered back, and Mrs. Grey,
finding her too much occupied with them to attend
further to her, rose to take leave.
"What dreadful children!" ejaculated Margaret,
as they re-entered the carriage. "Aunty, you say
you get some thought out of almost every visit you
make; now what did you get out of this one?"
Mrs. Grey smiled.
"I know those children of old," she said, "and
never had so comfortable a visit there before, as this
time you were their prey. Well, my thought was
this: How much depends on manners! These little
girls are not bad children, and yet they are the terror
of all their mother's friends. They ought to be kept
in their nursery, and not be allowed to come into
the parlor to torment visitors."
" Doesn't she know what annoyance they cause? "
" Perhaps she partially knows it, but fancies their
great beauty will atone for that. We must not be
hard upon her. The temptation to display those
three beautiful faces is very great. We don't know
what we should do under similar circumstances."
"Don't we?" cried Margaret. "I know what I




1I6        THE HOME AT DREYLOCK.
should do. I should lock them all up in a box rather
than let them behave as they do. Why, I would
rather they were shy and awkward than bold and
presuming as they are.  I suppose people began
by noticing them on account of their curling hair,
and brown eyes, and bright speeches-for they are
bright-and that spoiled them."
"Yes; and manners one can tolerate in a child of
three, are intolerable in one of ten. However, these
girls will outgrow these outside faults, I dare say,
and grow up into agreeable and estimable women.
Their mother has this one weak spot of wanting to
display them; but, in the main, she is wise and true,
and will exert a good influence over them."
"Oh! but, aunty, you did not hear all that passed.
They are not merely rude —they are conceited. One
of them asked me if I ever saw such pretty hair as
hers, and then had a dispute with another who declared hers was prettier!"
"Beauty is a snare, no doubt," said Mrs. Grey;
"and I am afraid it is over-valued in that home.
And now for the Grosgrains."
"Oh, those Grosgrains! Must I return their visit?
We haven't a single idea in common. And they look
down upon me so! "
"Yes, I can imagine that.  But do not let it
disturb you. They will not put on any airs in my
presence, for I know, and they know that I know,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           117
whence they sprung. Their mother was brought up
in a foundling hospital, and after she left it, learned
a trade-that of tailoress. She was a hard-working,
friendless girl, and had a certain kind of good
looks as dowry. A young man took a fancy to, and
married her. She kept at work at her trade, and
made the first suit of clothes my Frank ever wore.
They had no children for some years, so they laid
up money, and began to live in more comfort than
they ever had dreamed of doing. He had good
business capacity, and she was ambitious. They
kept rising in the world, and would have liked to
have their early history fade out of people's memories. Then came these four girls, by whom they did
the best they could. Women rise as men cannot
do; they have quick, smart ways, and pick up a
certain dutside kind of good breeding, and the Grosgrains availed themselves of these advantages to the
best of their ability. But the struggle to keep up
on the one hand, and unaccustomed luxuries on the
other, proved too much for Mrs. Grosgrain, and she
sank under it. Now during her career as a woman
of means, she had taken a young sister into her home,
and educated her as far as money could educate, and
it was natural enough for Mr. Grosgrain to marry
her. She made as good a mother to the girls as she
knew how to be, but in the best sense of the word
never made ladies of them. As to Mr. Grosgrain,




I18        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
he had one talent: it was for making money, and
money he made; but he had no culture, and no
faculty for living in style; and the luxuries which
were the delight of his wife and daughters, had no
charm for him, especially as they were expensive.
There was no end to the family squabbles on the
subject of expenditures.  He had five females to
twit, and to snub, and to set him right-five females
to spend his money and ruin him. He became a
monomaniac, and worried himself to death on the
ground of poverty. His departure was a relief to
them all. They immediately went abroad and wandered all over Europe, during a long period. It
makes one shudder to think of their being regarded
there as representative Americans. Now I have not
told you all this for the sake of talking, or to prejudice you against them. I only want you not to allow
them to put you in a false position by looking down
upon you. Observe a proper self-respect when in
their company. You are far less a parvenu than
they."
" But, aunty, how did they get in with you?"
"Why, the first Mrs. Grosgrain, mother of the
girls, used to come to me as tailoress, by the day,
and would bring her sister to sew with her. Then
when they became rich they fancied that that put us
on a level. The present Mrs. Grosgrain has been instructed and snubbed by turns, until she has acquired




: THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           II9
a good use of language; and when they set up their
carriage, and came and called on me, I thought it
would be a silly pride in me not to return the visit.
And I have a benevolent interest in them, for one
thing.  And then if it is any satisfaction to themn
to boast that they are, oh! so intimate with me, why
not let them have it? It does not hurt me. If I
should altogether turn a cold shoulder to them, they
would think I despised them  for their low origin.
Now I despise nobody for accidents of birth over
which they have had no control; neither do I bow
down to royalty itself, unless it is as pure and hightoned as it is noble."
On arriving at Mrs. Grosgrain's ostentatious residence, they were informed that the ladies were all
engaged. This was so far true, that they were engaged in peeping over the banisters to see who their
visitors were, in dressing-gowns and curl-papers.
"Now, girls, it is too bad," said Mrs. Grosgrain,
as the cards were handed her. "Here we have
lost a visit from Mrs. Grey! We really ought to be
dressed at this time of day. There's no knowing
when she will call again. And it is such a distinction to have her carriage at our door! I do hope
the Van Tropes saw it."
"I can't bear her books," said Miss Grosgrain.
" Nor I," said Miss Mary.
"But it's the fashion to read'em," said Mrs.




120        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Grosgrain, "and to like'em, too. And when I
think your marmer used to be a tailoress, and your
parper-"
"Now do hush!" cried Miss Grosgrain, putting
her hand over the maternal mouth. "Why need you
be forever alluding to such things? You never let
us have the ghost of a chance to forget them."
"If you had gone through all I have, I guess you'd
allude to it often enough. Your poor parper and
marmer, they- "
" Do, for goodness' sake, stop calling him parper!
It is so American! Going abroad hasn't done you a
bit of good."




CHAPTER X.
MABEL'S "baby" (she never called it dolly) was
almost always nestling in her arms. It seemed to fill
the maternal element of her character, and though
she was a wee little mother, a veritable mother she
was, and it was amusing to watch her quaint ways
with it. The march of improvement had taken up
dolls, as well as everything else. What marvels of
art are their generation, nowadays! Compare them
with the stiff wooden monsters of fifty years ago, with
their back hair done up like that of aged matrons,
surmounted with high yellow combs! What a stretch
of imagination is required to fancy these angular
ladies' babies.
But now an event befel'that nearly broke her heart.
Baby's sweet blue eyes suddenly disappeared, leaving
two empty holes in her face. From that moment all
illusion concerning her vanished. The eyes of real
babie3 never dropped down inside of them. So she
begged to have it put away where she could never
again be horrified by the sight. Margaret could not
6                     (I2I)




122        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
understand this. But Mabel had always shrank from
the sight of unpleasant objects, and her aversion to
her baby in its mutilated state was almost morbid.
Still she bemoaned her loss sorely, and when Mrs.
Grey, fearing she would make herself ill with crying,
left the book she was writing, and everything else,
and went to the city to replace the departed, nothing
would induce the child to accept the offering, though
it was the fac-simile of the poor blue-eyed Mary. 
Margaret spent a large part of the next day in
making paper dolls for Mabel. Her nature was opulent; as she loved the few she loved to infatuation,
so her gifts were prodigal. Never had a child so suddenly acquired a large family; their name was legion. Still, they did not supersede her darling.
" I want a yeal live baby," she said, amid her tears.
"So do I," said Margaret," "but I don't cry for
one. And there are no live babies for sale, so I can't
buy one for myself, or for you." Mabel said no more.
She had been taught to pray for what she wanted, so
she now stopped crying, went behind the door, and
said, softly:
"Christ, will you give me a yeal live baby, with
yeal eyes that can't drop out?" and came back composed and full of faith.
The next morning brought a line from Cyril Heath,
announcing that the storks had brought them a splendid pair of twins, one for him and one for Belle. MIar



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          123
garet immediately wrote the history of Mabel's sorrow and Mabel's faith, and asked Cyril to give his
baby to Mabel, which drew from him the following
letter:
MY DARLING LITTLE MABEL:I am so sorry to hear that your baby has lost its
eyes, so I am going to tell you something. Mamma
has had a present of a " yeal live baby," and so have I,
and I am going to give mine to you; that is, I shall
let you call it yours, and let you love it with all your
might and main. At the beginning of your prayer
to-night, ask God to bless your baby, and He will.
Mamma sends you twenty kisses on your dear little
mouth, and says she loves you, oh, ever so much.
What fun we shall all have when you come home!
The babies are such funny little fellows, with dark,
curly hair, and big blue eyes! Good-bye, my pet
lamb!
PAPA.
"Now I know where my baby's eyes have gone!"
cried Mabel, clapping her hands. "Christ took them
out to give to my yeal baby. And I am going yight
home, I am."
"No, dearie, you must wait till your papa comes
for you," said Mrs. Grey. "Only to think! Two
babies! How rich your mamma is getting! It is




124        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
beautiful to have twins. I think I must go and see
them."
"What, with going to the city to buy dolls, and
make visits, and go to all sorts of meetings, and being
on forty-one committees, and now a pair of twins,"
said Margaret, laughing, " I don't see when your
book is to be written. Is it always so? When do
you write?"
"Yes, it's always so, barring the twins. My dear,
industrious people contrive to do a great deal in
fragments of time that others waste. Writing books
is only an episode in my life, not my profession.
Nothing gives way to.it. However, I must own that
everything is giving way before this piece of news.
To think of my Belle having twins! If they look
alike, what a pretty sight they'll be! "
Margaret had never seen Mrs. Grey so excited, and
was much amused.
"This is the very first minute I have seen you sit
still and do nothing, since I came here," she said.
" Oh, and here is a letter from Laura, with one inside
for you."
Mrs. Grey took her share of the letter, and began
to read it aloud, but suddenly stopped. "I forgot,
dear, that you have a letter too, and must be eager
to read it."
"I can wait, please go on; it is very entertaining."
Mrs. Grey finished reading, and said, " What a child
she is, to be sure! And what does she say to you? "




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I25
Margaret, who had been glancing over her letter
smiled, and read as follows:
DEAR OLD MAG: 
Why haven't you written to ask me why I didn't
write? You know perfectly well that I am in love
with you, and yet you express no surprise that I do
not pour out my soul on paper.  Well, you must
know that as soon as I reached home, and had set
the family pendulum swinging again, I trotted out
and bought a ream of foolscap on which to write my
book. Mamma always buys hers by the quire. Of
course I intended to write to you before I began my
stupendous undertaking. But when I just ran up to
the nursery to see that all was right there, I found all
wrong. Pug was lying in his nurse's arms as red as a
lobster, and of course I knew he had scarlet fever, and
that Trot would have it, and that they both would
die. Also, of course, I let them die, and began my
book. You know I haven't any heart, only a large
hole where one may grow, in time. Well, the two
creatures were the sickest creatures I ever knew to
get well, but I consoled myself with the fact that I
had their portraits anyhow. Harry and I got a trick
of sitting up nights with these twain small people,
and he says I worked like a tiger over them; but
then, he exaggerates awfully. They were not at all
tired of this world, and were determined to stay in it;




126.  THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
so here I am tied hand and foot to my nursery; and as
to my book, there is nothing to show for it but
that ream of paper; and that does look like business.
I forgot to say that I upset a tea-pot of tea on my
hand the first thing I did when I saw Pug looking s'o:dreadfully ill, and that this is the first time I have
held a pen in it since I came home.  Some other
pleasant little items occurred; my cook had a felon,
and was nearly wild with the pain, and my laundress
went and got married in a tangent. And now, Mag,
I've one thing to add, and it is this: I would rather
have forty wild Indians; a rattlesnake, and a hyena,
enter my nursery than scarlet fever.
Still, I'm going to write that book! and am
Your devoted admirer,
ONEY.
"Strange that I had not noticed not hearing from
the child," said Mrs. Grey. "But'there are so many
of them all that they drive each other out of my poor,
forgetful old head. It will be a wonder if Georgy and
Trot pull safely through.  And how poor Laura's
hand must have pained her! I must write, immediately, and warn her of the dangers of convalescence
in this dreadful disease.'"
"Do you think she is really going to write a book?"
"I do not doubt that she will begin half a dozen, but
whether she will ever finish one is another question."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I27
"What a droll subject she had!"
"Yes; but I am not sure that she or anybody else
can manage it. One might get fun out of it, though."
They both began now to answer Laura's letter; Mrs.
Grey giving any amount of counsel about the children; Margaret, throwing care to the winds, and entering, with zest, into the pleasure, so new to her, of
having friends to whom to write.
And not many days later, Mr. Heath came for
Mabel. He was as impatient as a child to have her
see the new babies, whom he considered marvelous
beings, and of whom he was very proud. As to the
child, she was eager to enter into possession of her
share of the spoils, and Margaret felt a spasm of pain
shoot through her heart when, with smiling faces,
they took leave. She had loved Mabel so! Was she
to be parted with in this way all her life, she asked
herself, always giving amply and receiving sparingly? But one must not reason thus about little
children. They know little about time and space;
they have not learned to sentimentalize; they live
in the present moment. Many a mother has experienced a pang akin to Margaret's, when returning
from a journey, longing to fold her dear ones to her
heart, the prosaic cry salutes her, "What have you
brought me, mamma? " as if in bringing herself she
had not done all a loving child ought to ask.
Mrs. Grey and Margaret now returned to their in.




128     THE HOAME AT GREYLOCK.
terrupted work, and the wintry days flew rapidly by.
The weather continued mild until late in February,
when the first snow of the season fell. But previously
to this an event occurred which put a new aspect on
life to Margaret. They had been to the city: Mrs.
Grey to make visits to friends in hospitals there;
Margaret to take her painting lesson, and on reaching
the station found the carriage awaiting them, and the
horses in a restive mood, which was provoking the
temper of the old coachman not a little.
"What is the matter, Samp? " asked Mrs. Grey.
"Ain't used enough," returned Samp. "Needs to
be took down."
" Any danger of their running away with us?"
" Never knowed'em to run away."
"Nor I, either," said Mrs. Grey, "and yet I've a
good mind to walk. What do you say, Margaret?"
"I say that it's too far for you to walk. Belle
charged me to not let you overdo."
"Very well. But it's not too far for you to walk.
I have a queer presentiment that something is going
to happen. Suppose I drive, and you come home at
your leisure?"
"' No! " said Margaret decidedly; "if anything is
going to happen, it must be to me, not you. But
nothing is, except lunch." So saying, she sprang into
the carriage, and Samp drove off.
"I never saw you nervous, aunty, till now."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I29
"And I am not nervous now on my own account."
Margaret understood, and was silent. After a few
moments, however, she said:
"We fly over the ground like lightning. Can it be
that Samp has lost control of the horses? Oh,
aunty! there he goes! He's off the box! They're
running away with us! We must jump out!"
"We must not jump out," said Mrs. Grey, in a
tone that made Margaret pause. "It would be death
to us both."
" What shall we do, then?"
"We must trust ourselves to Him who, if He can
hold the winds in His fist, can certainly control these
animals. And if He does not think it best to do
that —if they rush on and plunge down the riverbank —why, it would be an easier death than martyrdom."
She was as quiet as if seated on her sofa at home.
Margaret grew quiet too. They clasped each other's hands and waited.
The horses flew on; they were nearing the river;
now for it! They are over!
Neither knew anything more till they awoke as
from a sleep, and found themselves at home; Mrs.
Grey lying on her bed; Margaret being borne to her
room on a door that hasty harfds had torn from its
hinges. The house was full, but by degrees faithful
Mary cleared it of all but those whose presence was
6*




130        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
needed; and the physicians proceeded to examine
the patients. Mrs. Grey's injury was on the head,
but not serious. Margaret had a fractured ankle,
and many bruises. Each forgot herself, and thought
only of the other; but it was ten days before they
met. Margaret was shocked when Mrs. Grey, with a
face all colors, from the bruises on her head, was supported into her room, and made light of her own severer injury. It was comfort to see each other even
in this unsatisfactory way, but Mrs. Grey had time to
recover entirely before Margaret could leave her bed.
And for a long time she was in too much pain to
think or to feel much on any subject. But at last
she said, abruptly:
"Aunty, did you expect to be killed that day?"
" Yes."
"And you were as calm as you are now."
" Yes, dear-why not?"
"And were you ever afraid to die?"
"Yes, very much afraid."
"And how did you get over it?"
"By realizing that Christ is conqueror over Death,
whom He will, sometime, make His messenger to
show me the way home."
"It was an awful moment when we plunged down
the bank! I almost think I never really prayed in
my life before! I don't know exactly what I believe
about the world of the lost, but I heard a man say




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          I31
once that there will be no little children there-only
grown-up sinners. And I don't want to spend my
eternity with sinners. It makes me shudder to think
of it. I want to spend it with those who were pure
and good in this world, and have grown into greater
purity in heaven."
" Margaret, my child, " said Mrs. Grey, leaning tenderly over her, " do you call this the aspiration of
an unrenewed heart  "
"No, aunty; I have been wanting to tell you that
in that awful plunge down the bank, there came to
me, as by a lightning's flash, assurance offaith. You
know how I have distrusted and quarrelled with myself, and refused to believe myself a Christian, because light had come to me so gradually, that I did
not know when it began to dawn. I might have
gone on so for years but for the revelation of that
moment."
"I have never doubted that your feet were on the
Rock,' my child; but, oh! how I have prayed that
they might stand steadier there! You have made
me very happy."
"It has almost killed me to say all this, aunty.
And I don't want to say another word, or have you
ask me any questions. Only I want to thank you
for not plaguing me with exhortations. It wouldn't
have done me any good. And I think a great deal
more of how people act than of how they talk.




132        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
One's words can cheat; one's life can't. I watched
mother like a lynx, to find flaws in her religion, and
sometimes thought I found them. Then I watched
you in the same way; and, oh! what sermons you
have both" preached to me, when you were, very
likely, reproaching yourselves for not doing more for
me! "
By this time Margaret's face, long paled through
sleepless nights and distressing days, had become.
crimson.  To give even this beloved "motherfriend" a glimpse into her soul, cost her all the
strength of her strong will. But what a new love
had now sprung up between them!




CHAPTER XI.
As soon as Mrs. Grey recovered her health and
strength, she took up her abode in' Margaret's sickroom, her mother's former "hospital," and devised
endless ways of relieving the tedium of her long confinement. Margaret spent her days on one of the
little white beds, and her nights on the other; the
change was easily effected by members of the household, and was very refreshing. Mrs. Grey read to
her, told her stories, played games with her, brought
her fresh flowers and fruit every day, and was as
companionable as a girl. Yet it cost her brave heart
something thus to live over again Maud's illness,
without alluding to it; only a mother who has ministered to a dying child can know at what a price.
Once, when Margaret was suffering unusual pain, she
broke down, and cried heartily; but for herself she
shed no tears.
"My precious child," she said, "how you need
your own dear mother now! "
"-I wouldn't have her see me suffer so for the
(133)




I 34       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
world!" cried Margaret. "As long as I live, whatever happens to hurt or distress me, I shall have one
comfort-my darling mother never had to see this!"
Mrs. Grey made no reply to this exclamation, but
took care to put it into every letter she wrote her
children, till they had all received this hint how she
wished them to feel after she had gone. Meanwhile,
letters and luxuries flowed in from them all. Belle
wrote about the children, especially Mabel and the
twins; Laura kept up her usual artillery of fun;
even " the boys," Frank, and Rafe, and Fred, wrote,
when they found what a delight it was to Margaret.
Under ordinary circumstances, "the girls" would
have relieved their mother from the care they all regretted so much; but Belle was tied hand and foot
by her babies, and so was Laura, who had become
duly impressed with the danger still lurking about
her nursery; the daughter who came between
these two (Grace) had her husband's mother with her,
of whom people said, "She means no harm, but she
is peculiar."  She was so very peculiar, that it took
all Grace's faith and patience to endure her semi —
annual visits, which she looked forward to as she
would to a fit of sickness. Old Mrs. Harrison would
never have got over it if Grace had deserted her for
any reason whatever; yet if any one had accused her
of being exacting, she would have been surprised and
felt insulted.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I35
One morning, when Margaret was beginning to
suffer less, she said, earnestly:
"Now, aunty, I think I have taken as much of
your time, to say the least of it, as the case required,
and I want you to go on with your book. What a
trial this long interruption must have been! "
"It has not been a trial, dear. You will understand why, one of these days. I used to chafe and
fret when interrupted in favorite pursuits, but I have
learned that my time all belongs to God, and just
leave it in His hands. It is very sweet to use it for
Him when He has anything for me to do, and pleasant to use it for myself when He hasn't. There's no
knowing what I have learned through these weeks
that I needed to learn, in order to have my book
what He chooses it shall be. Perhaps your fractured
ankle has a mission to some soul, which it will accomplish through my pen; who knows? "
"I think I shall write a book myself," said Margaret, demurely.
Mrs. Grey smiled interrogatively.
" It would be such fun years hence to read it over..
Yes, I certainly will write it. Come, aunty, you bring
your pen and paper and set the inkstand between us,
and we'll both write. I am going to write down the
nice things that have happened to me; the letters
and presents I have had, and my journeys, and excursions, and all that. And I shall illustrate it with




I36        THE-HOME AT GREYLOCK.
pen-and-ink sketches. It will be a bigger book than
you ever wrote, if I live much longer, and you all go
on being so good to me."
"I don't believe you can use ink; however, we'll
see. That's a good idea of yours. I wish I had begun such a book at your age. It would be most entertaining reading at my time of life. Oh, what a
volume of undeserved mercies."
"Well, I have a nice blank-book on hand which
you shall have."
She went and hunted it up, collected her materials,
and they both became absorbed in their work, until
a little musical laugh from Margaret broke in upon
the stillness.
"What is it?" asked Mrs. Grey. Margaret handed
her the book by way of reply. She had written its
title on the first page:
" MY BOOK OF REMEMBRANCE,"
and had drawn a picture of herself as a miniature
angel flying down from heaven into a bright, artistic
room.
"I remember my father's painting in which I was
represented as thus entering the world, and how it
was one of the last things mother consented to part
with. She finally let it go to our landlord for rent.
He refused to take it for a long time, declaring that
he must have the money; when he concluded to con



THE tIOME AT GREYLOCK.           137
sent to do so, mother called his attention to its title,'The Advent of my First-Born,' and explained that
it was my father's poetical way of stating a prosaic
fact.
"' La!' quoth he,'you don't say that's a angel, do
yer?  I always thought it was a lightninog bug!'"
Mrs. Grey laughed. It rested and refreshed her
to see Margaret's brightness beginning to return. But
their books were not destined to grow that day, for
Mrs. Cameron and Agnes came and staid an hour and
a half, and then Mrs. Huestis drove them away, and
MIrs. Cram stepped in for a minute and staid fortyfive, and so it went on till dusk. Mrs. Cameron'
always had some important secret to divulge, and
must see Mrs. Grey alone; Mrs. Huestis always wanted
advice; Mrs. Cram invariably was in trouble and
wanted sympathy; and as to them all they were not
in the least to blame for taking so much of her time,
for they all knew that her time was not her own. She
had, long ago, consecrated it to Christ, and He used,
but never abused it. Agnes Cameron amused Margaret, while her mother was in the library below, with
scraps of domestic scenes, wherein she hit off, in a
good-natured way, some of their household " ways,"
as she called them. One of her little brothers had a
"way" of doing mischief, and his last performance
was pouring a can of kerosene oil on the parlor carpet.
"Mamma spanked him for it," continued Agnes,




138        TILE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"and he said,' the whipping hurt, but I'joyed pouring out the oil!'"
"What a little scamp! " said Margaret. "Your
mother couldn't have whipped him very hard."
" Oh, yes, she did; she used her slipper. But he'joys his mischief too much to care what she does to
him. He put the kitten into a pot of hot soup; he
drank a lot of sugar of lead; he pushed tacks up his
nose, and into his ears; he scratched the piano all
over with scissors; he threw papa's razor out of the
window; he has poured ink all over himself twice; he
climbed out of the window and hung there by his
hands till mamma fainted away; and yesterday, when
he wanted something she refused him, he climbed
up on to the table, and walked across it, and helped
himself."
" And what was done to him?"
" Oh, nothing. We all laughed, that was all."
"He would drive me crazy in a week," said Margaret, scandalized.
"No, he wouldn't. He is such a good-natured little fellow you couldn't help loving him."
Margaret would not dispute the point, but she
thought it all the more a fraud upon the child to spoil
him, when he was created with agreeable qualities.
"I would not laugh at his mischief if I were you,"
she said, at last. "He'll get to think it is nice and
smart to cut up capers."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           139
"Oh, he'll outgrow his ways."
Margaret had her doubts, but had too little experience with children to venture to offer any further
advice.  After what seemed an endless period of
time, Mrs. Cameron and Agnes departed, and the
short wintry day came to an end.
Margaret's book of remembrance grew in spite of
interruptions, for all sorts of kind deeds and loving
deeds kept rushing in, and sometimes after writing
for a time, she would lie back on her pillow in silent
ecstacy, that she, a little while ago, only an "incumbrance," was now literally surrounded with mercies.
If every young person would keep such a record,
there would be more smiling and more gratitude in
this frowning, grumbling world.
And now she was to take the air, and glide over
the smooth, white snow that fell just in time to cover
all the inequalities of the roads.  Samp had not
been much hurt when he fell from the box, and new
horses had been bought in place of the pair that had
to be killed after the accident.
Mrs. Grey went with her, and both sat thoughtfully
side by side, and quite silent, for they had each lived
through a world since their last drive.
But on their return, Mrs. Grey said, " I have had a
curious request made me during your imprisonment,
and want to consult you about it."
"You are always having curious requests. How
people do act."




140        THE IIOME AT GREYLOCK.
"It is not their fault. I belong to' people.' Well,
here is a letter from a woman I don't remember ever
seeing, though she says she once spent a summer in
a boarding-house with me and mine. She wants me
to come and examine her home-life, which she pronounces a failure, and tell her what is amiss. But read
the letter before you give an opinion."
DEAR MRS. GREY:Some years ago I spent a summer at Newport in
the " House on the Cliffs;" among others, you were
there, with your children. I was only a young girl at
that time, but I was struck with the difference between your family and those of others; I did not understand then, nor do I know now, wherein this differerrte lay. But I am the mother of six children, the
eldest a boy of fourteen, the youngest a baby. In
deep humility, in bitter disappointment, my husband
and myself have come to this conclusion: our boys
and girls are exceptionally troublesome, or we are
very bad managers. Our home-life is beset with disorder and discomfort, which is becoming intolerable.
Well, can you, and will you, undertake the task of
spending a day or two, more or less, as you think
best, in our family? See for yourself where the fault
lies, and act the part of a friend to us in the greatest
emergency of our lives? It is asking a very self-denying act on your part; we realize that, but virtue




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           14I
has its own reward. Whatever strictures you may
find occasion to make, will be thankfully received.
We are unknown to you, but you are well known to
us, and we put our cause into your hands.
Truly yours,
LUcY A. THAYER.
Please address Mrs. Neilson Thayer,
Box 298, New York.
"It's a nice letter," Margaret reluctantly owned;
"but you mustn't go."
" Why not?"'There are five hundred and forty reasons why."
"Tell'me one."
"Why should you, who can speak to thousands
through your books, be pinned down to one disorderly family? "
"Oh, that's no argument at all. If I were sitting
on a pedestal, and had to climb down in order to help
my brother, my sister, it might be a different thing.
But I am not. My advantage over these younger
people is, that I have longer experience of life than
they have, and that's all."
Margaret smiled.
" I believe if the whole world knelt at your feet
you wouldn't know it," she said.
"I don't think I should, for I wvouldz't know it.
And, Margaret, I think I shall go and have a long




I42        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
talk with these people; to do it, I may have to stay
with them one night, as I suppose Mr. Thayer will
only be accessible in the evening."
" Well, it's just like you to do such things."
" That's not the way to put it. It's just like God
to make His children serve one another."
"' Do go right away, then, and have it over with.
You have spoiled me so, that I hate to have you out
of my sight. However, I've plenty to do while you
are gone."
" Oh, I should not leave you if you had not. Let
me see, I must write to this Mrs. Thayer, to say that
I am coming. To-day is Friday-too late in the
week; I'll go on Monday."




CHAPTER XII.
THE task that lay before Mrs. Grey was an un.
congenial one, but she entered upon it cheerfully and
hopefully; nobody who knew her, would need to be
told that she went prayerfully, also. She found, as
she expected, intelligent, educated persons in Mr. and
Mrs. Thayer, and as he had retired from business, he
had plenty of leisure to consult with her.
"Things have always gone wrong with us," he said,
as soon as the ice was broken. "But we have at
last reached a point when everything must be placed
on a new basis. I have tried my best with the children; have talked to them by the hour together;
have chastised them and indulged them by turns, but
all in vain. And now," he added, his voice trembling, " I have just caught my eldest boy, Bob, in an
act of theft."
"To a large amount?"
"Large for a boy of his age. And what makes it
hard is, that I have been lavish with him in every
way. I did not suppose he had a wish ungratified."
(I43)




144        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"A! " said Mrs. Grey, in a tone that declared she
was beginning to see daylight.
"Bob is a good-hearted boy," said Mrs. Thayer,
"but his character leans to shiftlessness. We have
tried to tone him up, but if a child is born without a
backbone, what can one do?"
"May I ask in what way you have tried to tone
him up?"
-" Certainly," replied Mr. Thayer, in a tone of surprise. " We have talked to him year in and year out."
" Does he like that? "
"' No. He yawns in my face."
"' Now, you want my honest opinion? "
"' We do, most emphatically."' Then, allow me to say that long talks to children
seldom, if ever, do any good. A single, loving, wise
word dropped just at the right moment, will do infinitely more.  But something lies back even of this.
It is parental character. Now I don't want to know
from which of you two your boy gets his bias; perhaps it is from neither. But he is one of the sort who
never should have a promise made him, and then left
unfulfilled. He needs to see, every day, prompt, decisive action; what he sees will tell more than what
he hears. And, I say it in all kindness, no human
being who has his every wish gratified is in a process
of toning up. Such luxury tends to enervate, not to
strengthen."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          145
"I meant it for the best," said Mr. Thayer, with a
sigh. "I hoped to win the lad's heart by kindness.
But I see how it has all ended in failure. Perhaps,"
he added, after a pause, "you ought to know the
whole story. I am careless about money matters;
don't like trouble, and have never kept any account
with Bob. He got into the way of boasting to other
boys how much he had at his disposal; how much
more than any of them, and they dared him to prove
that this was the case. In a great hurry one day I threw
some loose bills into a drawer, forgot them, and perhaps never should have thought of them again, but a
good friend of mine came and told me that Bob was
exhibiting a larger sum at school than he thought it
likely I had given him; and then the whole thing
came out."
" What did you do?"' I talked to him, and then thrashed him."
"Are you sure it is a good thing to thrash a boy
of that age? "
"Why, could I do less?"
"Of course I cannot legislate in this matter; but
you may depend there is a parental screw loose somewhere when a lad of fourteen has to be thrashed.
Are you sure that you have kept him out of temptation by constant employment, for instance?"
"I never thought of that. Bob's a lazy fellow; he
hates work, though he's fond enough of play, to be
sure."        7




146        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"It is a vital point to keep children busy," said
Mrs. Grey. "Taste for this and that employment
can be cultivated. Are you sure he would not like
to learn drawing? Or the use of tools? Or music?"
"He has no natural taste for either."
"Then how does he spend his time out of school?"
"I don't know, exactly; I suppose he lounges about
the streets more or less."
"What sort of boys are his intimate friends?"
" I don't know that either, exactly."
" I know," said Mrs. Thayer, " what boys visit him,
but I do not know of what sort they are. He always
sees them in his own room."
Mr. Thayer was here called out, and Mrs. Thayer
turned eagerly to her guest.
"You see what my boy's father is," she said, "a
kinder, a better man does not exist; but he never
has known how to manage Bob, and most of the care
of him has rested on me. And one parent is not
enough for children. Still, I did the best I could,
and Bob was obedient at any rate-for that I require
of my children; but he slipped out of my fingers in
this wise. I was just going out to pay some visits,
when a boy came to invite him to dine with him. It
was on a Friday, when there are no lessons, so I gave
my consent, only directing him to put on a clean shirt,
adding, remembering his indolence,' You can go on no
other terms. Go directly and dress, or you will get




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I47
to romping about and forget it.' He promised, and
I went out, returning in time to see him just ready
to, start in his soiled and crumpled shirt. I said to
him,'I'm sorry for you, Bob, but you know on what
terms you were to go.' He began to cry, and the
face of the other boy lengthened. My husband never
had interfered before, nor has he ever since; but he
interfered so decidedly then, and was joined so vehemently by one of his brothers who happened to be
present, that it was next to impossible to hold out
against them. Bob went off in triumph, and my authority was for ever ended. He has been growing
worse ever since. His father meant no harm; but he
did not foresee, as I did, what would be the consequences of this one mistake. Now, have you anything to suggest? Is our boy on the absolute road
to ruin? "
"Before I reply, please answer one question. How
much hold have you on his affections?"
"Very little. And since we have told him we
could not love a boy guilty of his crime, he has grown
surly."
" Is it true that you do not love him?"
" Of course not."
"Why then tell him so?"
"We are trying, in every way, to make him abhor
the sin?"
"Poor boy! poor father! poor mother! What a




148        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
series of mistakes!" thought Mrs. Grey.  " Where
shall I begin?" And then remembered she had begun in her closet.
"I know," she then said, "that some children are
born with such amiable instincts, that they give little
trouble to their parents and teachers, and become,
therefore, their pride and glory. But this is the exception, not the rule. The general rule is that the
more character a child possesses, the more he will be
faulty. My impression is, that most parental difficulties result from misconception on two radical
points. The first is a putting off of God's regenerating work to a period in their children's lives when
they can intelligently help Him do it. The second
is faith in self. Now I will not say that I know it to
be the case that some souls are regenerated before
they enter this world; I only suggest the thought for
your reflection; but that the mass of mankind enter
it unregenerate, is the belief of all who accept the
Bible as Divine truth. This being the case, every
parent who undertakes to mould and fashion his
child into a model of morality and virtue with his
own hands, makes a radical mistake. Divine must
precede parental work. Until a soul has been regenerated, labor spent on it is external, and cannot
reach the roots of being."
Mr. and Mrs. Thayer listened with some incredulity,
yet with the respect due to superior years.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           149
At last Mr. Thayer said, "I must own that this
theory is new to me, and that I am not prepared to
accept, as I am unwilling to reject it. I have always
believed that a soul must will to be born again, and
that a child must reach an intelligent age before it
would reach such a point."
" Do you believe that those who die in infancy are
lost, because they never exercised faith in God, or
willed to be His? "
"No, indeed."
" Well, how are they saved?"
"By special grace."
"And not through the exercise of faith on their
part?"
"Certainly not."
" This concession, then, does away with the notion
that faith is a redeeming virtue-a meritorious act.
Consequently, a child can be regenerated before
birth, at birth, or at an indefinitely early age after
birth; the sooner the better. Instead of spending
ten or twelve years in forming unholy habits, which
it will require as many more to outgrow, it may begin from its earliest consciousness to form holy ones."
" Holy is a very holy word," said Mr. Thayer.
"One hardly associates it with a laughing child."
"It is undoubtedly a very holy word, when applied to a veteran saint; but there has been a Holy
Child on earth, the child Jesus; and in virtue of that




150        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
fact, all our sons and daughters may, at any early
age, become partakers of this grace."
Mr. and Mrs. Thayer were ominously silent. Mrs.
Grey, therefore, proceeded: "Holiness in a young
child is in its germ. It may mean little more than a
genuine tendency to what is right. There will be
faults, and foibles, and mistakes, perhaps falls; why
not? Is it to be nearer perfection than its parents?
They have faults and foibles, and make fearful mistakes; many of them have seasons of terrible backsliding, and falls that wring the hearts of all Christendom, if they have stood high enough to be seen
by it."
"I have prayed for the conversion of our children,"
said Mrs. Thayer, " but expected it to come at some
future time, when I wanted it to be a marked, unmistakable experience."
"Why not, just as rationally, put off their beginning to love you till they could give a good reason
for it, and do it in a very decided way? It seems to
me the most natural thing in the world for the children of Christian parents to begin to love Christ as
soon as they hear who and what He is. Their love
may be poor and meagre, and lack intelligence; but
if it is genuine, it will wax stronger and stronger. If
it does not exist at all, you can only work on them
through the sentiment of fear; whereas love is the
master-passion of the human soul."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I5 
"Oh," cried Mr. Thayer, holding up his right hand,
"God is my witness, that I would give this hand to
see my children converted unto Him! I never realized till now, what deep-seated yearnings I had for
them. But I supposed they must go through some
process first; distress of mind, repentance, faith."
" Faith they will have; faith that will put yours to
the blush, if they are trained aright, with prayer.
They may pass through painful processes later on in
life, but not necessarily."
"But does not the Bible put repentance first?"
" It does, when addressing adults. I find no evidence that it thus addresses a child of two years. I
believe that if Christ were now on earth, and should
go into your nursery in order to save the two little
boys there, He would not say a word about repentance; He would do something to make them love
Him. Oh, how often I have rejoiced that the first parental words that fell on my ear were tender, affectionate ones about Him; that the law preached to me
was,' Do this because it will please Him! Don't do
that because it will grieve Him.'"
" I am impressed by what you say," Mr. Thayer
remarked, looking at his watch, " and could listen all
night. But we have kept you up till eleven o'clock
in our selfish interests."
" I have kept myself up in the Master's interests,"
she said, fervently.




15 2       THI-E HOME AT GREYLOCK.
As the family gathered together at breakfast the
next morning, she took special pains to shake hands
with Bob, and give him a smile. He was surprised
and pleased, for he had vaguely connected this visitor
with his own misdeed.
"They haven't told her, after all," he thought, and
a-faint spark of gratitude arose in his heart. "And
she ain't one of the long-faced kind, either," he said
to himself, as he glanced at her cheerful face.
There was a good deal of bustle after breakfast
about getting the children off to school. One fretted
about her luncheon; another at being directed to wear
overshoes because he had a cold.
i" Mamma," said the eldest daughter, "I'm going
to have some girls to lunch next Saturday. And I
don't want any of you in the room, either."
At this exhibition Mrs. Thayer blushed.  She
found it not so pleasant to have the children betray
themselves to Mrs. Grey present, who was quite another person to Mrs. Grey absent.
Two or three little altercations arose, meantime,
between the children.
"I don't see why you should have lunch all to
yourself," said Julia, a girl of ten.
"Well, it's enough that I see it," retorted Esther.
"Mamma won't let you, I know; will you, mamma? "
"I've got to have an excuse for tardiness," said
Esther, turning to her mother.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           153
"Another excuse? I've a good mind not to give
you any. Now, I can't have this. It is the third
time this week."
And so on, and so on.
When they were fairly off, Mrs. Thayer burst into
tears of mingled shame'and pain.
" You see how it is," she said. " Esther regards
us as natural enemies, whom she cannot allow to
share her interests. And her love of dress tries me,
too. And there is Julia following in her steps. If it
were not for the younger children I should have no
comfort. It is strange that they should degenerate
so; in their nursery I saw very little of the unlovely
traits they are developing now."
"Well, now, Mrs. Grey, have you any counsel to
give us?" asked Mr. Thayer. "We are ready to bear
reproof and to amend our ways if you can suggest a
change."
Mrs. Grey replied, very earnestly, "It is not so
much outward change that you two need, as a new
deep-seated principle within. I think you have dealt
with your children too much on the outside. The
first thing to require is obedience. The first thing
for them to acquire is tenderness of conscience. All
the lectures, and all the chastisements in the world
will come to naught if this is lacking. A moment's
reflection will show you that a time will come when
parental law must cease, and that they must then be7*




154        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
come a law unto themselves. The best lock and key,
the best bar and bolt, is conscience. Now we will
allow that you have partially erred in this regard;
what is the remedy for that and every other error?
I maintain that the only remedy is prayer. The Divine hand can overrule your mistakes; no other can."
Mr. and Mrs. Thayer maintained an embarrassed
silence.
At last Mrs. Thayer said: " Perhaps you have laid
the axe to the root of all our difficulties. I do not
think we have realized our human insufficiency till
quite lately."
"Thank God, that you realize it now. The next
step to such realization, is a laying hold of His
strength. I have been watching Bob; he does not
look like a vicious boy; if you manage wisely, he
may never repeat the offence that has caused you
such pain."
"And what would you counsel in regard to him?"
"I do not know. I have never had to deal with
such a case. If he were my boy I should just go to
God with my ignorance, and expect to gain wisdom
how to act. But let me say, just here, that my experience with boys and girls forbids free use of
money. As soon as they reach a proper age, they
should have, if possible, an allowance, and be obliged
to keep account of every penny of it. I should say
in relation to Bob, that he should be indulged very




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I55
sparingly, and obliged to restore to a mill all he has
taken, even if it takes years to do it. This long discipline will do him good.'The way of transgressors is
hard;' let him learn that so effectually that he can
never forget it. One thing more. You have told him
that you do not love him; go on in that path, and you
will lose your boy. You must not only love him, you
must let him know that you do by constant acts of
kindness. God makes a distinction between the sinner
and his sin; He loves the one and hates the other;
we must do the same."
The unhappy parents began to feel their burden.
lightened..
"Then, you think there is hope for our poor boy?"
they asked.
"I know there is just as long as you enclose him in
your prayers. He will be as safe as an insect in a
piece of amber."
" But the insect is dead."
"Yes, but how much better hath God made a human soul that cannot die?"
" I have not breathed so freely for a month," said
Mrs. Thayer. "Will you give us some hints now
about Esther? You see what she is, superficially;
but she has good qualities;, and far more character
than Bob."
" How happens it that she wants to exclude you
all from her pleasures?"




I56        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" I don't know; but she does, and so mortifies and
grieves me."
" Have you always taken care to show sympathy
with her in her-pursuits, her friends, and the like?"
" Perhaps not all I might."
"I fancy this interest is all that is wanting. You
might try and see. By the bye, have you any
absorbing pursuit or friendship yourself? "
"Yes, I have many."
"Perhaps, then, you have unconsciously weaned
the child from you by only half listening to what
she has had to say about hers."
"Did you observe that she informed me that she
was going to have friends to lunch, instead of asking
permission?"
"Certainly."
"And what should you do in such a case? Reason
with her?"
"No; I should simply provide no entertainment.
As things stand, however, giving her warning to that
effect."
" You have no idea how angry she will be."
Mrs. Grey was silent.
"And then how she'll tease!"
"The sooner she learns the uselessness of teasing'the better."
Mrs. Thayer twisted her pocket-handkerchief around
her fingers uneasily. At last she said:




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I57
"I can't tell you how I dread entering on this
contest."
"There need be no contest. It takes two for that,
and I don't propose a fight."
"What am I to do, then?"
-" Do nothing while the tempest lasts. After it is
over, speak to her kindly, but firmly; and state it as
a simple fact that a new leaf is to be turned over in
the family life."
"-It won't do any good. Esther has such a will.
I shall only provoke her!"
"You can't provoke her if you speak gently and
lovingly."
"But I can't do that. When she has one of her
tantrums I lose my temper."
"Then before you speak to her, speak to God.
He will sweeten and humble you if you will let Him
do it."




CHAPTER XIII.
"MRS. GREY'S carriage," announced a servant.
"Oh, must you go so soon?" cried Mr. Thayer.
"I am sure my wife needs more counsel."
"Let me countermand the carriage. Do stay one
night more. You may save our children by doing.
it," urged Mrs. Thayer.
"I must send a telegram home, if I stay."
"Certainly," said Mr. Thayer. "I will take it
myself."
"Dear Mrs. Grey," said Mrs. Thayer, "I am so
thankful to see you alone. You have opened a new
world to me in regard to prayer. Beyond praying
for my children night and morning, I have never
consulted the Lord about them. I have always
acted on the impulse of the moment."
"We come to grief, sooner or later, if we do that."
"But I am naturally impulsive, and look before
I leap. I cannot always stop to think where I shall
alight."
"If your watch is in good order, do you have to do
{I 5 8`




TIIE IIOME AT GREYLOCK.         159
more than wind it up every night to insure its keeping good time? Now if your soul is in a normal
condition through the skill and goodness of God,
and you do your part towards keeping it so by
prayer, be as impulsive as you like. You'll keep
good time."
"There is another trouble I have with Esther.
She is too fond of dress."
"Most girls are. Their mothers teach them this
by talking as if it were a matter of great moment,
and by giving them articles of dress as holiday and
birthday gifts, thus implying that this is the greatest
favor they can do them."
"I have done this, but thoughtlessly. It never
occurred to me that I was educating my girls into
this folly."
She spoke in a weary voice, and at length added:
" I am all out of patience with myself. I don't see
but that I lie at the bottom of most of my children's
faults."
" Fenelon tells us to be patient with ourselves, and
he is right," Mrs. Grey said, gently, and looking with
sympathy at the poor mother's flushed cheeks.
"And now about Julia," cried Mrs. Thayer. "She
is naturally a nice child; but she is copying all
Esther's ways. And before I forget it, I want to
consult you about an incident that occurred just
before you came. Julia is very energetic, and one




16o       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
day, when I was out, undertook to put my bureau
in older. When I came in and found my room in
an uproar-the bed, the floors, the sofa covered with
heterogeneous masses of clothing-I was extremely
displeased, and seized the child by the arm and
marched her angrily out of the room. Whereupon
she dropped a courtesy and said,'Thank you, ma'am.
You must have had a nice prayer-meeting!' I afterwards found that she had been preparing a pleasant
surprise for me by putting my drawers in order.
Ought I to say anything to her about it?"
"Yes, you ought to ask her pardon."
"Ask her pardon! Ask a child's pardon!"
" Why not? She has her individual rights as you
have yours."
" But to degrade myself to a child of ten years!"
" To ennoble yourself in her eyes. The degradation
was in losing your temper."
"Well —well-well! This home has got to be
pulled all to pieces and built up again, if we are to
follow your suggestions."
"Pull away," said Mrs. Grey, smiling; " the sooner
the better. And now won't you let rue see the little
nursery people?"
Mrs. Thayer's face cleared ~as she led the way to
baby and his brother, both large for their age.
" What splendid boys!" exclaimed Mrs. Grey.
" Are they not? And the others were just as fine,
apparently."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            i61I
Mrs. Grey took the baby from his nurse's arms
and kissed it.
"I should think this room would be a city of refuge,
with these innocent creatures in it," she said.
"Yes; doesn't it rest one to see little children
before they are spoiled?"
" You speak as if spoiling was inseparable from development; as if life were intended to be all retrograde."
" Oh, I thought I should find you ladies here," said
Mr. Thayer, entering the room. " Suppose we adjourn
to the library."
" Let me take Mrs. Grey to my room first, to see
the children's portraits."
Mr. Thayer assented, and they all proceeded thither.
Bob, Esther, and Julia had been grouped together
and beautifully painted by an artistic hand.
" I never saw a finer face than Bob's," said Mrs.
Grey, " nor sweeter ones than those of the girls; it is
hard indeed to think such children can turn out ill."
"Yes," said Mrs. Thayer, "I little thought when
these portraits were painted, how Bob was going to
break my heart, and Esther refuse to obey."
" Mrs. Grey," asked Mr. Thayer, abruptly, " do you
think that children properly trained, invariably turn
out well?"
" There are exceptions to all rules. Some children
seem to enter the world with such low tendencies that




162        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
no amount of wise training avails to uplift them. But
no case is hopeless that can be carried to God."
"I want to ask one question more. Do you find
us, as parents, exceptionally full of mistakes, and our
children exceptionally bad?"
"I believe all parents make mistakes. They find
out, sooner or later, that they cannot, of themselves,
train their children right, and so cease making the experiment, and seek Divine guidance at every step. I see
no evidence that yours entered this world materially
more depraved than others. But whatever the case may
be, you have no reason for discouragement, if you can
once make up your minds to distrust yourselves and
leave all to Him who giveth to all men liberally and
upbraideth not."
Thus with line upon line and precept upon precept,
Mrs. Grey tried to show to her eager listeners, that
the first step towards reforming their children was a
thorough reform in their own lives. She then took
leave and gladly returned to her own peaceful home,
where so many of her own rules had long been put in
practice.  Margaret was awaiting her in brilliant
spirits, and everything settled down into the old
routine; the one busy with scores of interests beyond
her own; the other living in an imitation of her as yet
remote, but yet original and unique.
Meanwhile Mr. and Mrs. Thayer found that it was
no easy matter to change habits formed through




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           163
fourteen years, and still went on making mistakes.
Yet a radical change was taking place in their souls,
which the children soon began to feel and to comment on.
In the first place, Mr. Thayer began to speak to
Bob with a kindly yearning in his voice that startled
and puzzled the boy. It was plain that his resentment was over, and that he was feeling pity instead
of anger. What could it mean?  Bob was full of
curiosity and anxiety. Did this tenderness portend
some coming penalty of the law-perhaps? Was he
to be sent to a Reform school, or to jail, or what?
His mother changed too. Julia, between whom and
himself a certain kind of intimacy existed, took him
aside one day, and said:
"Does mamma look sick to you?"
" She looks as if she cried a great deal."
"But does she look as if she was going to die?"
"To die! " he repeated.
"Yes, to die," said Julia.
What heart lay developed under the lad's vest died
within him. This,-then, was the penalty that lay
before him; his crime was to kill his mother!
" Who says she's going to die? " he asked, roughly.
" No one says so, but I know she is. Read that."
Bob took the little note the child handed him, and
read it in.silence:




164        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
MY DEARLY LOVED JULIA: —
Not very long ago your energetic little hands
undertook to arrange my bureau drawers for me.
Coming in suddenly I misunderstood the disorder of
my room, and drove you from it angrily. It was
wrong; I am sorry for it; I have asked God to forgive
me, and now I ask you to forgive your poor, faulty
MOTHER.
"I'll bet she is going to die," said Bob. "Never
knew her to do anything like that before. I've been
an awfully horrid fellow. I wish I hadn't."
" I've been horrid, too," said Julia. "And I wish
I hadn't."
" You've been splendid compared with me," said Bob.
" Let's go and tell Esther," suggested Julia.
"What for? She won't care."
"You seem to think she's a heathen Chinee," said
Julia.
"So she is, sometimes. But not always."
Esther was accordingly taken into confidence, and
expressed a wish to box their ears for a pair of ninnies,
until she read the note, which struck terror to her
heart.
"I don't feel at all nice," she said. "Though I'm
not as bad as many girls. I know Mrs. Mather pays
Melville five dollars a month if she isn't saucy to her.
And Jane Waite tells fibs. And Jemima Watson




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           i65
threw her mother's watch on the floor and stamped
on it."
" What for?"
"Because she couldn't get an example right. Julia,
I wish you hadn't shown me that note. It was real
mean in you. You knew it would stick in my throat."
Meanwhile Mrs. Thayer was looking forward with
anxiety to the day of Esther's proposed lunch party,
and the storm that was to follow the announcement
that she should not sanction it.  Great, therefore,
was her surprise when Esther came, voluntarily, to
say, in a nonchalant way, put on to hide some real
feeling, that she had changed her mind, and did not
intend to invite the girls.
" I am very glad to hear it," was the reply, " for I
did not intend to provide lunch save for the family,
as usual, and you would have had to recall your invitations. Henceforth, when you wish for an indulgence
of this sort, come and ask my consent."
The quiet dignity and firmness with which this was
said, impressed Esther with such a sense of amazement that she was in no state to wage war.
The family leaf was thus turned over without signs
of affray; yet, He who seeth in secret witnessed many
a struggle with self and pride, and evil habits on the
part of the parents. It is not so easy to own that
one's whole theory of domestic life has been wrong;
not a trifle to drop all querulous tones, sharp repri



I66        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
mands, and hasty penalties. Again and again they were
tempted to try new theories; to imitate this and that
successful experimenter; to go on searching books
and other human counsel. But every such attempt
ended in a failure, and at last they went together
hand in hand, confided all their interests to God, and
resolved henceforth to consult Him and Him alone
in every emergency. And now they found rest of
the sweetest kind, and a new influence was shed
abroad in the house. It is simply impossible to live
this life of trust without influencing children powerfully.  The young Thayers were too young to be
utterly spoiled, and gradually the new principles
that controlled the parents began to act upon them.
Rome was not built in a day, neither is a human
character suddenly so formed. It took time and
patience to undo the work so ill-done; but the Holy
Spirit so often wooed was lovingly won. He came
and brooded, like a peaceful dove, over the disordered
household. There is not a more upright man in Wall
Street than Robert Thayer. His character was ripened
by the discipline of labor through which he had to
pass while earning the means to restore the sum feloniously appropriated, and that one act of dishonesty
was his last. For parental prayer stood between him and
temptation; and through Heaven-taught wisdom his
conscience is as tender as a little child. Esther is living
a peaceful life of faith in a nursery of her own, and Ju



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK..67
lia's energies are legitimately spent in true'Christian
work. As to the three younger children, they never
gave their parents, with all their natural depravity
combined, an hour's heart-ache; they were not models and not prigs, but just happy, bright, lovable fellows who had heard very little about law, and a great
deal about the Gospel; who knew how to fish, and
gun, and garden, and play, and frolic, and also knew
how to pray when the right time came. More might
be said, with truth, but it never answers to paint too
close to nature.
Those who do not understand the life of faith,
fancy it to be all mysticism and effeminacy. But
while it is mystical to the mere looker-on, to its possessor it is almost homely in its practical details;
touching every point of life from worship to service,
from service to worship, claiming the whole being for
Christ, and spending and being spent for those whom
He came to redeem.




CHAPTER XIV.
MARGARET wrote to Belle and to Laura about the
new light and life that had come to her, though it
cost her a great effort to do it. In reply, she received
four or five pages from each; Belle wrote in great
delight and earnestness, saying, she had never doubted for a moment that she was as safely in the ark as
herself.
" Isn't it strange, darling," she went on, "that
you did not see what I saw so plainly, that your
love to me was really love to Christ? There is nothing in me to call forth such passionate devotion, and
I knew it, all along; and how I have prayed that you
might have the bliss of knowing that your Beloved
was yours, and you His."
"' Bliss!'" re-echoed Margaret, " bliss is no word.
It's heavenz!"
Laura wrote one of her lively, domestic letters, full
of " Pug" and "Trot;" and Margaret, while enjoying
it, wished she could, for once, get a glimpse into her
soul. -She was just returning the letter to its enve(I68)




THE HOMIlE AT GREYLOCK.           I 69
lope, a little chilled, when she perceived a scrap upon
the floor that had fallen from it. In contained these
vords
" And thou maun speak o' me to thy God.
And I will speak o' thee."
"Ah, she's all right!" was Margaret's joyful
thought. " I begin to think she's as good as Belle,
only different."
A few days later, as she sat at her easel, she suddenly felt herself seized from behind, and squeezed
by somebody's arms.
"Take care, or you'll get covered with paint," she
said, as soon as she could speak, and in a moment
more, saw Laura's bright face, and Pug and Trot in
the rear.
"Where's mamma, you naughty child, you, and
what do I care for paint?"
"Aunty has gone to the city to see a lady, or on
the whole, two ladies, in some hospital."
"I'll warrant it. Well, the doctor said the children
must have change of air, and so I've brought them
home. Pug, put your arms round aunty Mag, and
squeeze her till she can't breathe; and Trot, do you
do the same!"
Margaret held out her arms, and the children
sprang in.
"How good it is to feel your little arms," she said.




170        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" I've just been hungry to see you. And I'm ever so
glad to see you, too, Oney."
"Of course you are. Where's that good, old soul,
Mary? Oh, here she comes! Well, Mary, how are
you? We've come to make you lots of trouble.
Haven't the children grown? "
"Why, yes, Miss, only Miss Laura is small for her
age."'" So are you, Molly," cried Laura, laughing.
Mary laughed, too, and tried, furtively, to slip a bit
of cake into the children's hands.
"Ah, at your old tricks, I see. Very well, if you
undertake to make them ill you'll have to nurse
them, that's all, for I am worn out."
"You do look completely used up," said Margaret,
beginning to scrape her pallette.
" What are you doing, child?"
"' Why, you don't suppose I am going to paint when
my pets are here? "
"Nonsense! Their nurse is here. Now, I tell you,
once for all, you shall go on exactly as if we were
miles away. You say you are going to give each a
picture at Christmas; and how are you going to do
it if you let everybody hinder you?"
" I don't call Pug and Trot,' everybody;' I can't do
any more work to-day, anyhow."
"Well, you can to-morrow, for I am going to the
Astor Library."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I7I
"To the Astor Library? What for?"
"I have a sudden thirst for information before I
begin my book."
"Your book for mothers? Oh, Laura, the idea of
going to the Astor Library about that!"
"Oh, that scheme fell through."
"What a pity! It was such an original one."
" So is sin. But one has to get rid of it."
"Did you write nothing at all?"
" I wrote a little bit. I'll show it to you when my
trunk comes. I thought it was a capital idea, and
was going to make mamma write a preface for it.
How is she, anyhow?"
"Very well, if one may judge by her actions."
"I suppose that means being at everybody's beck
and call."
"Yes; first, she had me to nurse, and then she
went on a pilgrimage to a family of strangers."
"People she knew nothing about?"
"She knew they were in great trouble, and judged,
by the letter they sent her, that they were respectable, more or less educated people."
"Here comes the dear old thing, skipping like a
young roe!" cried Laura, who had been to the
window half a dozen times. "Now Pug and Trot —
goodness! what hzave they been about while we were
talking?"
Sure enough, what had they been about. Each,




172        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
armed with a brush, had been daubing away at Margaret's canvas-their hands, faces, and dresses all
colors.
"Oh, Margaret! they've ruined your picture!"
cried Laura, in dismay.
"Oh, Laura! they've ruined their dresses!" cried
Margaret; at the same time her enthusiasm about
the children cooled down not a little. Here was a
week's work destroyed.
Meantime, Mrs. Grey entered on this scene of dismay, and she and Laura were too glad to see each
other to pay much heed to the children. Margaret
rushed off after a bottle of turpentine, and old Mary,
and Laura's nurse; and between them all, and a
bowl of soap-suds, decency was restored, and the
little ones made presentable, though not fragrant.
The unexpected scrubbing, and a faint sense that
they had been in mischief, gave them a somewhat
awe-stricken look, which gave way, when grandma
kissed them, to relieved smiles.
" It's all my fault," said Laura. "I ought to have
warned you that these creatures are always up to
something. How much harm have they done to the
picture?"
" Oh, never mind the picture," said Margaret, who
was herself minding it a good deal, but was trying to
wrench her heart back to the little culprits.
" I am delighted to have you come home, Laura,"
said her mother. "You look worn out."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I73
"I dare say. But it's only want of sleep. I shall
be all right in a few days. Pug and Trot are two
little plagues, but somehow I didn't want them to
die. Did I, poppets?" she said, pulling the children
to her knee.
"Here's your trunk," said Margaret; and Laura
flew off to pay the expressman, and to unpack it.
"You poor child," said Mrs. Grey to Margaret, as
soon as Laura had gone,'your picture is ruined!
And I must say you have borne it beautifully."
" It may have looked beautiful on the outside,"
replied Margaret, "but it wasn't at all so inside. I
could have slapped the children, I was so provoked."
" Jean Paul says, that an angel, incapable of feeling
anger, may well envy one who can feel, yet control
it."
" I would run the risk of being an angel if I could,"
said Margaret.
Laura now returned with her arms full. "This
shawl, mamma, I knit for you; also this afghan,
which is to keep your dear old feet warm. And,
Margaret, this Madonna is for you, chicken  "
"For me! " cried Margaret, flushing with delight.
"Oh, it is worth a thousand of the daub the children
spoiled. How came you to get it for me?"
"I couldn't help it. I can't love people and never
give them anything. Dear me, what fun it would be
to go through the streets and chuck something into
everybody's hand!"




174        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
While this was going on, Pug, who had escaped
from the nursery, was busy fumbling in his mother's
pockets, and soon possessed himself of her purse, the
contents of which, with a magnificent air, he went
and poured into Margaret's lap. On perceiving this,
Laura, with a peal of laughter, caught up the child
and kissed him.
"Oh, Laura, how can you encourage Harry's mischief?" cried Mrs. Grey.
" He means no harm," said Laura. "He is a chip
of the old block. He does nothing on the sly, but it
is his instinct to give. This isn't the first time he
has picked my pocket, is it, Pug, you young scamp?
Oh, you needn't undertake to give it back," she ran
oil, as Margaret offered her the money.'I always
regard it as providential when Pug robs me and never
touches the trash he has given away."
Margaret looked embarrassed. Mrs. Grey shook
her head.
" You needn't shake your head, mamma," said
Laura. "You let me do this very thing when I was
a child, and it did me good. You think my ways
with the children all harum-scarum, but they are not.
They are founded on philosophical principles. If
there is anything I hate it's prig fathers, prig mothers,
and prig children."
"I suppose there is no medium," said Mrs. Grey.
"There's no nice one," said Laura. "Well, now,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            I75
about my book. It fell through-or, rather, it died
of scarlet-fever."
" You promised to let me see what you had written," said Margaret.
"I'll read it to you and mamma. You could make
nothing out of my scrawls. My idea, if you remember, was to write a receipt-book for young mothers,
and you thought it a capital idea, mamma. But
such things are easier said than done.  I meant
to classify everything under different heads, like a
medical-book; and then when a mother wanted to
know how to act, in an emergency, she could look at
the index and find directions instanter. Now listen:
"' ILL MANNERS.
"' Diagnosis. Patient objects to saying please, and
forgets to say thank you; slams doors; slides down
the banisters; interrupts conversation, etc., etc.
"'Remedy. Rx. Of maternal politeness, i lb.
"'Of parental ditto, X lb.
"' Of firmness, i lb.
"'Of line upon line, 8 oz.
"'Mix intimately, and form into thirty pills, which
are to be given according to symptoms."'
"What a girl you are!" said Mrs. Grey, laughing.
"Who, do you suppose, would buy such a book?"




176        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" I would, for one, if I were not already running
over with wisdom. Shall I read any more?"
"Yes, go on."
"' SELFISHNESS.
"' Diagnosis. An acute disease, that, if neglected,
will become chronic and incurable; patient begins
to show disinclination to wait upon papa and mamma;
wants the best seat by the fire; steers for the biggest
apple.
"'R' Rx. Of parental benevolence, I lb.
"'Of essence of Bible, I gall.
"'Bottle, but do not cork, that the delightful
aroma of this liquid may fill the house.'
"There! I shall not read any more of this nonsense. I have a scheme for another book, which I
am quite eager to begin immediately."
"' I shall put my veto on all brain-work," said Mrs.
Grey, "until I see you looking like yourself. The
best thing you can do now is to lie down and take a
nap till dinner-time. I believe I shall have to do
the same, for I am very tired."
"Why will you go about waiting on other people,
and wearing yourself out, mamma?"
"Dear Laura, long before you reach my age you
will understand. You will see that' this world's a
room of sickness,' and must have its nurses as well as
its doctors, and I can truly say,' I have often blessed my sorrows,
That bring others' griefs so near.'"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          177
"You are the nicest old thing in the world," cried
Laura, with a tremendous hug, and several admiring
pats on her mother's back. I mean to have ten
children exactly like you. But I am not going to bed
in the day-time; you may depend on that. There,
lie down on the sofa and let me cover you with the
afghan."
Laura looked so refreshed the next day that her
mother could not find it in her heart to make an invalid of her, or forbid her visit to the Astor Library.
Armed with pencil and paper, therefore, she set gaily
forth, and was soon seated at a table with eight or
ten volumes before her, out of which she got some
amusement, but nothing serviceable. She went back
to her mother rather crestfallen.
" I could have saved you all this trouble," said Mrs.
Grey, "if you had told me what you wanted;" and
going to the nearest book-case she took down several
books which exactly met Laura's wishes. The result
will be seen by and by. Margaret, meanwhile, had
begun a new picture in place of the one defaced by
the children, and as the three sat together reading,
painting, chatting, they formed a trio almost any one
would have enjoyed watching. Laura feeling the
relief of her children's convalescence, was particularly
happy.
"How nice it is to be at home," she cried. "I
shouldn't mind living a hundred years if I could
always have things just as they are now."




178        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Nor I," said Margaret.
" Nor I," said Mrs. Grey, smiling; " but things won't
go on a hundred years just so, nor should we live a
hundred years if they did. It is better to leave our
destiny in wiser hands than our own."
And then a pleasant silence settled down upon the
group, each busy in her own way, and each, in her
own way, very happy.




CHAPTER XV.
THE next morning Mrs. Grey settled herself comfortably near the fire, to enjoy one of the luxuries in
which she indulged herself-the daily paper. She
liked to know what was going on in the world. But as
her eye ran leisurely from column to column, it was
suddenly arrested, and she seemed turned into stone.
"Oh, mamma darling, what is it?" cried Laura,
running to her side, and seizing her hands. "Why,
you are as cold as ice! "
Mrs. Grey tried to speak, but could not; she
pointed to a paragraph, however, and Laura read:
"It gives us great pain to announce that the President of the  ~ bank is under arrest on a very grave
charge. His books have been seized, and are to be
thoroughly examined. We make this statement reluctantly, trusting that Mr. Grey will come triumphantly forth from this ordeal."
"What horrid, shameful stuff and nonsense! " cried
Laura, indignantly. "Oh, mamma, you look ten
years older than you did."
(I79)




180        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"I have lived a hundred," faltered Mrs. Grey.
"Why, mamma! you don't mean that, you believe
any of these lies? " demanded Laura, amazed.
"Oh, I don't know what I believe. I am stunned."
"Frank Grey accused of crime? Frank Grey under
arrest? I don't believe a word about it!" cried
Laura. " He is utterly incapable of anything wrong!"
" Don't say that, my child. We are all capable of
every thing wrong if left to ourselves. Try to think
for me. I am so bewildered. Oh, I have been too
proud of that boy. And I have been too cold and
unsympathizing towards distracted parents. I needed
this blow. When does the next train leave? "
"At IO.40. Yes, of course you must go," said
Laura, overawed by her mother's anguish. "And
Mary must go too, you are in no state to travel alone."
Mrs. Grey made no remonstrance; for the first time
in her life, she became passive in the hands of others,
and let them act for her.
" Mamma, you weren't like this when darling Maud
died," said Laura.
"When darling Maud died," repeated Mrs. Grey,
dreamily. Then after silent reflection she said, " Maud
died; yes, but Maud was not accused of crime. To
lay away a lovely child in the grave is nothingnothing, by the side of this horror."
"Such a man as Frank can live down disgrace," said
Laura.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           i8i
"Disgrace!" repeated Mrs. Grey, "what care I foir
disgrace? It is sin against God that makes me shudder; the bare suspicion that my boy has wounded my
Master." And now, as if the mention of that sacred
name was a gigantic power, her passing weakness disappeared, and the prompt, resolute, strong woman
stood equipped for her journey.
And on the way to her son, her prayers rushed like
the engine that bore her to his presence, straight to
their end, and she began to reproach herself for her
want of faith.
"Am I to fancy that my children can break through
the hedge my prayers have built about them?" she
asked herself.  "Suppose Frank has been sorely
tempted, am I to forget that he belongs to a covenantkeeping God?"
Day and night they flew on; at one station they
were joined by Cyril Heath.
"Belle thought I should intercept you," he said,
cheerily. "I hope this miserable business is not
weighing upon you, inotter," tenderly using this word
for the first time.
"The shock has been terrible," she replied; "I
never could have believed I so little knew what
trouble meant."
"You do not mean to say that you have the
slightest suspicion that these rumors have any foundation in truth? I have none, nor has Belle."




182        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" I am afraid my faith in human nature is not as
strong as it was twenty years ago. But I ought to
have faith in God as a Hearer of prayer, and thought
I had."
"You have the strongest faith of any one I know,
except my dear Belle," he said decidedly. "This
shock has staggered you, but you will get over it.
Ah, here we are! And whose bright face is that in
the crowd-if it isn't Frank's? Hurrah! "
In a moment Frank bounded into the train, his
face aglow with health and happiness.
" I knew you would come," he said, "and I made
a nice calculation as to when. But I did not expect
you, Cyril. How are you, old fellow? Come, here's
the carriage, and Lily in it, waiting for you."
"What a ridiculous old goose I am," said Mrs.
Grey to herself. "The idea of distrusting a man with
such a face."
On reaching home Frank could hardly do enough
for the travelers, to show his appreciation of their
sympathy.
"The charge came upon me like a thunder-clap,"
he said, " and at first I was inclined to treat it as a joke.
It is the work of a clerk, whom I had discharged for
dishonesty, and who thirsted for revenge. He was
under suspicion for a long time before I could convict him of theft, and then he begged so hard for
mercy, and expressed so much penitence, that I for



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            r83
gave him. I had no right to employ him, however,
for the money under my control was mine in trust for
others, and not to be risked. The injury he has done
me is a temporary one; that done to himself is irreparable."
" Has he a family?"
"Yes, a poor old mother and three sisters dependent upon him."
"We must do something for them, poor things."
"Yes, of course. They are in great distress. As
to myself, the main question after all is, have I a
clear conscience; I am: sure, mother, you never doubted that, who trained it with such care?"
" I distrust everything but God," she replied, "and
even my faith in Him wavered when I read that terrible paragraph. All my prayers for you, all my instructions and labors, seemed for the time thrown
away."
"That is like your mother's usual self-distrust," said
Cyril Heath, " not want of faith in you, Frank."
"Thank you for that suggestion," said Mrs. Grey.
"Well, we must send dispatches to Laura, and Margaret, and Belle, at once. You ought to have seen
Laura's righteous indignation! It isn't a bad thing
for people to find out how they love each other,
through some emergency like this. How do you
suppose a mother feels when she hears fhat her firstborn son is under arrest? Were you really suspected to that degree?"




184        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Yes; and I am at large now only on bail."
"And how soon do you expect to clear yourself?"
" I don't know; there may be complications I do
not foresee. But I shall come out all right in the
end."
"Do you stand, with your friends, as you did before these charges?"
"With most of them I do. There were any number of them ready to go bail for me to any amount.
Outsiders may look at the matter differently. I have
taken a very decided religious stand here, and that has
prejudiced some men against me, who are very glad
to make a handle of this thing to injure the cause of
Christ. I am inclined to think that, sooner or later,
every one of His faithful disciples will have to suffer
something, not only for, but zeith Him; if we do aggressive work for Him, we must expect aggression in
return."
"I am glad you have learned that."
"Well-yes, but I have been swallowing a bitter
pill. If I was ever proud of anything, it was of being
the very soul of honor. If I could commit the most
tempting sin on earth, unknown to all humanity, unknown even to God, I wouldn't commit it."
" My dear boy, I believe you. But it won't do to
be proud even of sinlessness. Our only true attitude
before God is one of absolute, constant self-distrust.
I have known of men standing on as apparently




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           185
secure ground as yours, and fancying they could never
be moved, fall at last."
" Into ruin?"
" No; a redeemed soul can. only fall partially. In
the midst of his deepest degradation, he can look on
Christ, and say to the Tempter,' Rejoice not over me,
mine enemy; when I fall I shall arise again.' 
The affair proved more annoying than Frank Grey
had believed it could be. There are any number of
people who respect a man while he is up, who will
kick him when he is down. Every detail of his life
was paraded out for public inspection; all that was
most sacred to him was fingered by soiled hands.
But for his mother's presence, and faith and prayers,
he would have been overwhelmed, for his wife was
unto him in this sea of trouble, just what she would
have been if he were struggling in mid-ocean, a drag,
a dead weight.
But it does not hurt a true soul to be tested, even
by fire. It comes out stronger, surer, safer, better
fitted than ever for the true purposes of life.
After a long, hard struggle, Frank Grey came forth
from the conflict with as clear a record in his hand,
and as pure a light in his eye, as was ever known to
mortal man. But there was no unseemly triumph,
or blowing of trumpets on his part, or his mother's.
Both felt that they had been humbled under the
hand of God, and walked softly before Him. And in




I86        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
this mood she wrote an eloquent letter to Mr. and
Mrs. Thayer, owning that the sharp experience of the
past weeks had quickened her sympathy with them
in their parental cares and trials, and assuring them
that they might rely upon her friendly services,
should they again be needed.
She was now at leisure to cast a scrutinizing, but
kindly eye at the little world she had so suddenly
entered, and saw much that needed correction. Some
of the children were like their mother, and she got
along with them comfortably enough. But she had
next to no control over the others, and had to coax,
manage, and bribe them into the little proprieties a
mother should require. The table was not neatly
arranged; the children's clothes were untidy; dust
lay everywhere. The most incomprehensible thing
about it was, that Frank, who used to be fastidious
about all such matters, did not seem to care how
things went. The boys helped themselves to what
they wanted; the girls had their wardrobes as nearly
in common as their different ages permitted.
"Frankie, dear," his mother would drawl out,
"aren't you afraid so much mince-pie will make you
ill, as it did last week? " And " Frankie, dear, would
you mind beating that drum out of doors; it makes
my head ache to have it so near." Or,
"Frankie, dear, Cyril says those are his mittens;
take them off, do, and let him have them; I can't
bear to hear him cry so."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            I87
She had got a habit of whining and crooning over
them, of which she was unconscious, in fact she was
not conscious of any of her defects. Frank had
always said his wife must be amiable, and in one
sense Lily was so; but she had not strength of character enough to get angry on, and in her ill-ordered
household she was beginning to grow, not morose,
not crusty, but nervously peevish.
Mrs. Grey kept congratulating herself that she had
come to see all these evils, and then kept asking herself what she was going to do about it.
She concluded, at last, to begin on a very small
matter.
" Lily, dear, do not let my being here confine you
to me. You must be wanting to use this delightful
weather for your spring shopping."
"There isn't any hurry about that."
"You know hot weather may be upon us any day.
I have written to Laura to do Margaret's shopping
for her at once."
"I don't think it will be hot. I hate to have to
see to dress-making."
"I'm afraid Frank keeps you low in funds."
"He gives me all I want."." Wouldn't it be well, then, to dress the children a
little better?"': I thought you believed in dressing them simply."' I do. But they need not be shabby, dear."




188        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"It is a great deal of trouble to keep them looking
nice. Frank and Cyril get holes in their knees the
first thing I know; and the girls tear and stain their
dresses so that I can't keep them looking decent."
"Well, I shouldn't mind doing the spring shopping
for you," said Mrs. Grey, briskly. She hated shopping, cordially; but these ragged children must be
taken in hand by somebody.
" Shouldn't you mind it, really? " asked Lily, brightening a little. "It tires me to go out, I go so seldom.
And I wish you would take the children in hand, as
well as their wardrobes. I can't do anything with
them."
"Nor can I do much in the little time I am here.
But if you will try not to be hurt, I will make a suggestion to you. These turbulent boys are too much
for you, and are wearing your nerves all out. They
would be better off away from home, provided you
could find just the right place for them. And, if you
and Frank think best, I will take Gabrielle home with
me, and see what I can make of her."
"Would you, really? What a relief it would be!
She and Annabelle torment me and each other.
Frank does not see enough of the children to know
how they behave. He makes them obey him, and on
Sundays does the best he can for them; but somehow our home isn't peaceful and pleasant, though I
have such a good disposition, and am never angry
with the children."




TIHE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          I89
"Frank is not confined to his business all day;
could he not contrive to look after the children
more? "
"I don't know. He is on ever so many committees, and is superintendent of the Sunday-school, and
our minister wants him here and there and everywhere. He is so energetic and bright, and people
think so much of him, that he has no time. Then
the letters he has to write! But if the children do
anything very bad, he lets everything go till he has
seen to them."
"Frank would not have married this poor, languid,
inefficient woman if I had had the faith I ought,"
thought Mrs. Grey. " But she is not accountable for
gifts never afforded her, dear child."
That evening Lily went early to bed with an attack of neuralgia brought on by one of her fruitless
attempts to subdue Frank. Mrs. Grey seized the opportunity to talk with the boy's father on the subject
of sending him from home.
To her surprise, he at once yielded to her suggestions.
"You understand human nature well enough," he
said, " to know that while. I may allow that my wife
has disappointed me in some things, I can't stand it
to hear a word said against her, even by you. I love
her; and though I wish she had more energy of character, and kept ray house ard my children in better




I9o        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
order, I would not change her for any other woman I
know."
"I should hope not!" was the reply. "And I
think if the three elder children were off her hands
she would have better health, and look after the
house more."
" I shouldn't like to send Gabrielle to a boardingschool," he said.
"Nor would I have you do it. I propose to take
her home with me."
Grateful tears filled Frank's eyes as this unexpected offer fell upon his ear.
"' Oh, mother!" he cried, "if you knew how many
times I have wished this could be! If our eldest
girl could be trained by you, this home of ours
would, by and by, be transformed."
"I cannot work miracles," she replied, " but I am
more than willing to try to benefit Gabrielle. Now
about the boys; have they any vices?"
"No, indeed.  They are just two great hearty,
healthy, noisy fellows, not at all obstinate when I
take them in hand, but too much for their delicate
little mother."
"Are they truthful?"
"Yes. Never knew either of them to tell a falsehood."
"Then I think I can kill two birds with one stone.
Belle and Cyril have a hard time with his insufficient




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          19I
salary, and I think they might be induced to take
charge of your boys. Cyril needs more books, and
Belle needs a good seamstress; you can afford to pay
a fair price for advantages money alone could not
purchase. I don't think they would, on a mere
pecuniary consideration, burden themselves with new
cares. But they do not live for what they can get,
but for what they can do."
" You have made me almost a boy again," he replied; "you have lifted my greatest cares off my
shoulders."
" Well, do write to Cyril to-night, and I will write
to Belle; then, if they agree to the plan, the boys
can start with me, and be left at Lancaster."
Frank wrote his letter, and Mrs. Grey wrote hers;
this was Belle's reply:
DEAREST MAMMA: — When your letter first
reached us, I thought the project almost insane,
and so did Cyril. But we prayed over it, and altered
our minds. I would not take any other boys in the
world; but dear Frank always was my favorite brother, and if I can help him in this emergency I will.
Poor little Lily never was made to cope with such
embodiments of health and mischief as Frank and
Cil;' but I am now in excellent health, and will do
my best for them. How little I foresaw that my
daily prayers for these children were going to bring




I92        THE EHOME AT GREYLOCK.
them under our roof! Pray for me, darling mamma,
that I may win their confidence and love, and be as
true to them as to my own precious ones. As to
Cyril, you know his doctrine-that it is the mother
who should rule the house, and beyond setting them
a perfectly beautiful example and frolicking with
them, he will do nothing for them. Give a great deal
of love to Frank and Lily. Of course you will stop,
on your way home, to see our babies. I think we are
just about as happy in each other, our children, our
work, everything, as we can be. If you don't believe
it, come and see!
Your loving, devoted
BELLE.
Lily's neuralgia confined her to her room six weeks,
during which time she suffered so much that Mrs.
Grey had to attend to everything; and she took the
opportunity to reconstruct the household. Perfect
order and cleanliness reigned supreme; inefficient
servants were replaced by reliable ones; the children
were made neat and tidy, and Frank took his meals
from a bountiful, well-ordered table, with great satisfaction.
All this took more time, thought, patience, and
energy than any man can imagine. It is part of
woman's lot to do a large amount of unappreciated
work. And the sick-room claimed attention, too.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           193
Lily had no relatives living to come to care for her
when ill, and it was a great relief to be nursed by
experienced hands. Mrs. Grey and Mary took the
whole charge of her; bore with her faint-heartedness and childishness, prepared her food, kept her in
fresh and dainty white dressing-gowns and caps, and
at last pulled her through. They were veterans in
sick-rooms, and had long worked manfully together.
9




CHAPTER XVI.
THE three children were highly excited at the idea
of leaving home, and, on the whole, delighted. The
preparations for their departure were soon completed, and on a pleasant spring morning the party
set off. Lily could hardly conceal her relief as she
took leave of themn; she was not fond of children,
though, of course, she loved her own, more or less;
and these vivacious young creatures wearied her beyond everything. She hated care and trouble and
exertion, if, indeed, she had life enough to hate anything; and when Frank declined to take leave of
them on the train because he knew he should disgrace himself by crying, and did cry, like a big
school-boy, as he saw them drive off, she gave him
up as a problem too hard for her comprehension.
The village in which Cyril Heath was settled was
a manufacturing one, and full of activity. His house
was a large, old-fashioned, ugly structure; but he
and Belle together had made it home-like and pretty
within doors, and as no part of it was kept in state
('94)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I95
and shut up, it smiled a welcome to every guest.
Belle was awaiting her mother with a baby on each
arm, and a face all smiles and delight. She let the
three children loose into the garden immediately,
where they were soon joined by Mr. Heath, who
chased them up and down the walks with all the joyousness of a boy.
"It's splendid here," said Frank, Jr. "I never
mean to live in a city again."
" Nor I," said Cil.
"Is it as pretty as this at grandma's?" asked Gabrielle.
"It's a thousand times prettier," replied Mr.
Heath. "Have you never been there in the summer? "
"No; only at Christmas, and at aunty Maud's
funeral."
" Oh! then you have a great pleasure before you.
Have you all had gardens?"
"' No, no, indeed!"
" You boys must have some at once."
"To dig in ourselves? How jolly!"
"Would you like to see my workshop?" asked their
uncle.
Wouldn't they, though? Anything to work off
their steam! Taking twenty steps when one only
was needed, they scampered at his heels, and arrived,
breathless, at a small room in which was a carpenter's




196        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
bench in perfect order, a turning-lathe, and other
objects, as new to the boys as Paradise was to Adam.
"Now, I sha'n't want you fellows meddling with my
tools," said Mr. Heath, as the children began to finger and play with whatever they could lay hands on.
"Useful things are not meant for toys. I shall have
another bench made adapted to your height, and
whenever you give your auinty special pleasure,
shall give you a tool, till you acquire all you need."
" Papa hasn't any workshop," said Frank.
"But he's got a bank," said Cil. "Have you a
bank, uncle?"
Mr. Heath replied that he had not that article,
which greatly relieved the two.
While this was going on, Mrs. Grey was admiring
the babies, lovely little creatures as need be, and rejoicing over Mabel.
"You will have a hard time with the boys, I am
afraid," she said. "Poor Lily was no more fit to
grapple with them than if they were giants."
"I suppose it will be hard, at first. But I already
love them with a new kind of love-the love of possession. To all intents and purposes, they are mine
now. How nice it was that Laura was at Greylock
when you left! You wotrldn't have liked to leave
Margaret alone so many weeks. To be sure, she
could have come here."
"Not very well, because of her lessons."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           I97
"True; I had forgotten that. Now come upstairs, please, and look at the boys' room."
" Why, you witch / " cried Mrs. Grey, " when did
you do all this?"
For the room was not only neat and fresh and
home-like; it was adorned with illuminations, pretty
engravings, and other agreeable objects which had
cost, not much in money, but a great deal in time.
"If I am a witch I learned it of you, mamma,"
said Belle. "Besides, Cyril helped me. He made
the bedsteads, and the washstands, and the brackets,
and picture frames. And the illuminations I made
years ago. Don't you remember the mania I had for
that sort of thing at one time?"
" I had forgotten it. How nice these upholstered
boxes are."
"Yes, Cyril made those, too; and I had chintz left
from a piece you gave me ever so long ago. Come,
now, and see my room. It has been altered since
you were here."
"What a pleasant room! How  has it been
altered?"
"Cyril took away the partition between it and the
next one, and put up this linen-closet. See, isn't it
nice. He did it all with his own hands, and then I
painted it."
"Not since the twins came? "
"No, indeed. It was more than a year ago."




198        THIE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Are these illuminations, also, things of the past,
too? "
"Why, yes, mamma. Don't you remember trying
to impress those truths on us children, and having
these very illuminations hung at the foot of our beds,
so that we could see them the first thing in the
morning?"
"Yes, I do, now you speak of it."
"How many, many times I have read them!
"'WRONG LIVING LEADS TO WRONG THINKING.'
" C WRONG THINKING LEADS TO WRONG LIVING!"'
"Yes; one whose life is practically wrong will
soon form a theory to adjust to it. And one who
starts with a false theory will, inevitably, end with
evil acts."
"Soon after we came here, Cyril preached two
sermons, taking those illuminations for his texts.
There were several persons in the congregation who
thought it was no matter what they believed, provided they were sincere. And there were others who
took the ground that they were just as well off out
of the church as in it, and so gradually slipped back
into the world they had promised to forsake. But
these are only specimens of the errors he has had to
contend with-growing out of wrong thinking on the




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            199
one hand, wrong living on the other. Still, we have
some of the very salt of the earth here."
During all this time Mabel had followed them
about, keeping close to her mother's side, the perfect
image of undemonstrative devotion.
" It is you and Maud over again," said Belle, responding to Mrs. Grey's intelligent glance. "Mabel
and I are just in love with each other. The other
children will be home soon. Just look into their
bureau-drawers. Now I have trained them as nearly
alike as I could, and see the difference. Everything
in Amy's possession is in apple-pie order; and unless
I see to it every day, Alice keeps hers topsy-turvy."'' Never mind. Habit is second nature. Ah, here
they come!"
Two smiling little girls came, somewhat shyly, forward; but grandmamma soon made them at ease
with her.
"Have you seen the babies? " was one of the first
questions.
"Yes, indeed. But they are asleep now."
"Which do you think the prettiest, mamma's baby
or Mabel's? " was the next.
"Dear me! I didn't see any difference. They
looked exactly alike to me."
" How funny!"
"Run down into the garden, now, my darlings,
and find your cousins."




200        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
The little ones darted away like gold-fish, and in a
few minutes had renewed their acquaintance with
each other.
" Don't you think it would be a good plan, mamma," asked Belle, "to let the boys run wild for a
week before sending them to school? They are
racing in the garden, like young colts. Dear me!
What is that?"'Tkat' was the sound of four noisy feet rushing
up the stairs, with such a racket as had never been
heard in that house. Both babies woke up in a
twinkling, and began to cry.
"Now I shall make short work with that sort of
thing," said Belle, as soon as she had quieted them.
"The boys may make as much noise out of doors
as they choose; but such rushing, and tearing, and
stamping will never do within."
" Of course not. It does not add to their happiness
or comfort to be boisterous like that, one iota; and
it destroys the peace of the whole household."
Here came an Indian war-whoop, and bang, bang,
bang down-stairs, with a door slammed tremendously
as a finale.
"Well, I don't wonder Lily's nerves gave out,"
said Belle, "if that's the way she lets the boys tear
up and down. Why, our boys never went on like
that."
"No; I would not allow it. If boys are to become




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           201
gentlemen, they must begin in the nursery. I have
been astonished at the uproar most of them are
allowed to make. One of the first things to teach
Frank and. Cil, is, that they are to form the habit of
regarding the comfort of the household."
"I must go down, now, and see about tea," said
Belle. " Poor Frank, how he will miss his boys! "
Shortly after the tea-bell rang, and the three young
Greys, their hair flying, their hands soiled, their feet
covered with mud, rushed in, hungry and eager.
"I want to sit next to grandma," said Gabrielle.
"No, I am going to sit next her," said Frank.
"Neither of you will sit next me with such hands
and faces," said Mrs. Grey. "I thought I convinced
you of that before you left home."
The children looked a little crestfallen, and beat a
hasty retreat to their rooms, where they made themselves presentable as fast as they could.
After tea they were going to rush out again, but
Belle detained them.
"I want to tell you something funny before you
go out," she said. "Some years ago-ten, perhapsI went to visit an institution for the deaf and dumb,
and enjoyed everything I saw. But when school was
dismissed, and the boys came running down-stairs, I
did not know but I should become deaf myself, they
made such a noise. I did not know, before, that one
set of fellows made more noise than others; but it
_9*




202        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
seems they do, because they have no idea of sound.
Now, you two young men are not deaf, and if you
choose to listen to yourselves, you will hear what
needless racket you make."
The boys looked in her smiling, kindly, but determined face, and saw they had no help for it but to
give in.
"'Alice said she knew we woke the babies this afternoon," said Frank, "but Cil had got my hat, and
run after it, and I tumbled up to take it away; I'm
real sorry I woke the babies."
" Oh, that's not the point. If there wasn't a baby
within a mile, I should not approve of your tearing
and shrieking like Indians. You may have just as
much fun and frolic as you like; the more the better;
but I mean to make two little gentlemen of you at
the same time. There! be off with you all into the
garden, and have as good a time as you can."
This was one of thousands of lessons that Belle had
to teach day after day, week after week. She made
her little sermons as short as she possibly could, and
as quaint; and the mixture of earnestness, and banter,
and fun, with which she assailed their bad habits, told
upon the lads.
But there was work to do below this surface-work.
She had to teach them the life of faith in Christ, a
kind of teaching so eminently the province of woman,
and to this end had to efface some impressions that




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          203
had been falsely made in their nursery days. Long
before they comprehended her teachings, her courage
and patience were put to their full test. But she was
a woman mighty in prayer, and day and night the
name of every child in the house was mentioned
singly to God.
Thus wisely and kindly Providence provided a remedy for Frank Grey's mistaken choice in his wife;
thus He will rectify all -such errors of judgment for
those who put their trust in Him.




CHAPTER XVII.
MRS. GREY knew perfectly well, that the task of
training Gabrielle would be a most self-denying one.
Those who never felt the sweet pain of putting
self down in order to help a human soul to rise, have
only touched life on the surface; have never been
down into its depths; she had. So it was cheerily she
entered upon this new labor of love, throwing her
heart into it without a thought as to how her own interests were to be affected by this invasion of her
home.
Gabrielle was fourteen years old, and as her mother
had never done much thinking for her, had acquired
a habit of thinking for herself. During the first few
weeks of her stay at Greylock, her grandmother let
her drift pretty much as she pleased, studying her,
meanwhile, and seeking wisdom from above. The
child fancied this state of things was going to last,
and was well content. As the spring opened early,
and was a very warm one, she adopted a hammock
that swung on the piazza as her pet luxury, and there
(204)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           205
she lay during a large part of the day, reading novels.
In the pang of parting with her, Frank thoughtlessly
gave her more money than any child should be entrusted with, and she, consequently, laid in a stock
of unwholesome dainties, which she fed upon while
reading. Very soon this effeminate life began to tell.
She woke with a headache, was peevish and irritable
about nothings, and at times had a "dumb devil,"
when it was next to impossible to get a word out of
her. It was evidently time to take her in hand, which
Mrs. Grey did, on this wise.
"My child," she said, kindly, "have I done anything unkind to you since you came here?"
" I don't know's you have."
"Well, you speak to me as if I had. So I think
you can't be well. How much exercise did you take
yesterday? "
"Not any; I was tired."
"And how much the day before?"
"Not any; I wanted to read."
"But you know I wish you to walk every day."
Gabrielle was silent, and looked sullen.
"There is another thing; I saw a piece of candy on
the piano just after you left; was it yours?"
"I suppose so."
"Have you been in the habit of buying candy at
your pleasure?"
" I have a right to spend the money papa gives me."




206        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Yes; but while you are under my charge, it must
be spent according to my judgment, not yours. Now
I am not trying to plague you; I am trying to find
out why you are irritable about everything; and if
you have eaten much candy, that, with want of exercise, may be the trouble."
Gabrielle looked down morosely, and made no answer.
"Won't you tell me all about it, dear?"
No answer, only portentous frowns.
" Very well; I see you are not in the mood to listen
to me. I will pray that you may be more docile
another time. And, mark this: I forbid you eating
any more candy without leave."
With a toss of the head that said: "We shall
see!"  Gabrielle retreated to the hammock. Mrs.
Grey, greatly pained, looked after her till she was
out of sight, when Laura, who had been concealed by
a curtain, came forward.
"It isn't right for you to be treated in this way, at
your age, mamma," she said. "If Frank and Lily
spoil their children, they ought to reap the fruits, not
you. I have been meaning to tell you that old Mary
says Gabrielle is nibbling at sweet things all day long,
and continually coaxing the cook for more. No
wonder she is cross."
Mrs. Grey said nothing; at least nothing heard by
human ears; but presently rose and went to Gabrielle's




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           207
room, and examined her bureau-drawers, which she
found in confusion, and whence she abstracted a
quantity of pernicious articles. Later in the day
Gabrielle detected the fact, and came to her defiantly
with"I am going to write to papa to let me go home."
"Very well, my dear."
The child, expecting a conflict such as she had
often had with her mother, was startled by this cool
rejoinder, and at last began to cry.
"I am very sorry for you," said Mrs. Grey.
"No you ain't sorry either. And my head aches
awfully, and I feel sick. I wish I was at home."
For answer, Mrs. Grey took her by the hand, led
her up to her room, applied remedies with tenderness,
and sympathy, and skill, and at last helped her to undress and go to bed. She slept better than she had
done for weeks; had some beef-tea for her breakfast,
and the devil of indigestion was exorcised, for the
time.
Laura was going home now; she and the children
were now quite well, and Harry could stand his loneliness no longer.
"Mag and I had delightful times together while
you were gone," she said, as she took leave, "and if
she gets out of the tangle of all those lessons, I shall
want her to make me a good long visit. You will
have your hands so full with Gabrielle that you won't
miss her. Mamma-"




208        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Well, dear."
" I wish I hadn't been such a bad child."
"You weren't bad. You had fits of ill-humor that
I did not understand, and therefore mismanaged; I
know now that indigestion often lies at the bottom of
what looks like moral delinquency in children. Keep
them well, and they'll keep themselves good-humored."
" Oh, I'm careful enough about Pug and Trot, as
need be!"
"It's enough to make them ill to call them by such
hideous names."
"Well, what could I do? Could I call my husband' the old Harry' to distinguish him from the
young Harry?"
"There, go, you incorrigible child!" cried Mrs.
Grey, kissing her good-bye. Laura drove off, laughing, and the children laughed in concert, they knew
not why.
Gabrielle was in a much more docile humor now,
and Mrs. Grey explained to her the laws of health
that made the open air, and exercise, and plain food
essential to every one, but especially so to growing
children.
"I do not intend to treat you in an arbitrary way,"
she said, " because I happen to have it in my power
to do so. What I do will be for your good, not to
gratify my self-will. I took away the dainties from




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          209
your room because, in your condition, they were poison for you; when you are quite well you shall have
some of them, from time to time, as a part of your
dinner; never between meals."
Not more than a month passed, when Gabrielle
had another sick head-ache. It soon became apparent that she had gone back to her old trick of eating, at all hours, on the sly. When she recovered,
Mrs. Grey said to her:
" When your father was a boy, there was not a key
turned in the house to hinder his helping himself to
forbidden sweets. I could trust to his honor. Now,
am I to consider you so far his inferior that I must
furnish myself with bolts and bars?"
"Mamma did not lock up things, either. It
wouldn't have done any good if she had. And we
ate whatever we pleased."
"And were continually having ill turns. Now,
my child, you are old enough to act like a reasonable
being, and you must see that you bring on these sick
head-aches by your want of self-control. I want
you to do me one favor, of your own accord give up
tea and coffee."
"Oh, I can't!"
" With God's help you can."
"No, I can't. He won't help me about anything.
Old Mary says she should think He would hate me,
I plague you so much."




210        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Oh, I don't think old Mary said that!"
"Well, maybe she didn't.  She said something
like it."
"My poor child, He hates nobody on earth. And
now, if in spite of all your fractious, disobedient
ways, I, only a human being at best, love you, how
do you think He feels? "
" I think He can't bear me. And I don't believe
you love me, either. But papa did, and I mean to
ask him to let me come home."
" So you have said a dozen times. If you think
you had better go, and that you will be happier
there, and more likely to outgrow your faults, I shall
not prevent you."
"You won't ever let me have my own. way, and
mamma did."
"And were you becoming a model eldest daughter
to her?"
"Nobody could be a model in the house with
Rosabelle. On the whole, I'd rather stay here than
go home. Rosabelle is just horrid!"
" I can't talk to you any more now. I must pray
more and say less."
" I want to go to Ellinor Lathrop's party."
"I have told you, once for all, that you cannot
go."
" Then I think you're real mean."
"Gabrielle!"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          21I
The girl was startled by the righteous indignation,
mingled with dignity, with which she was addressed.
Accustomed for fourteen years to look down upon
her mother, she fancied she could brow-beat her
grandmother also.
" You may go to your room now," said Mrs. Grey.
"And let me tell you that if you wean my heart
from me, you will lose one of the best friends you
ever had."
For once Gabrielle found she had gone too far.
There is a limit no child should be allowed to pass,
and she found herself confronted by it now. She
flew to her room, and began letter after letter to her
father, pouring out her grievances into an ear that
had always listened to her with sympathy. But
what would be the use of complaining to him about
his mother, whom he loved and revered? Suddenly
she bethought herself of Margaret; wouldn't she
take her part, perhaps? There was another rush
here and there, and at last she found Margaret in
her own room studying.
" Grandma won't let me go to Ellinor Lathrop's
party," was her abrupt beginning.
"Why, I know that. You and she discussed it at
breakfast."
"Yes, but I have teased her since then, over and
over again, to let me go, and she won't."
"Of course not when she had once refused."




212        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" Mamma would let me go."
"Aunty is your mamma now. And I can't imagine what makes you such a naughty girl when she is
so kind and good to you."
"Do you call it kind and good to thwart me about
everything?"
"Gabrielle, I want to tell you something. You've
got a guilty conscience. That's what ails you. You
are all the time doing something wrong when you
know better, and that keeps you unhappy."
" I am not unhappy."
" Yes, you are; and you grow more and more so
every day."
" Grandma is awfully mad with me."
"Now I know that isn't true. And you ought not
to talk so. The idea of saying aunty is' mad!'"
" Gabrielle, why are you here?" asked Mrs. Grey,
in a tone of surprise. "Did I not send you to your
room?"
Gabrielle made no answer, but moved sullenly
away.
" Oh, aunty," said Margaret, "it doesn't seem right
for you to be fretted in this way! "
"I am not fretted, dear. I foresaw all these troubles before I came home. The child is trying a series
of experiments with me, to see if she can't tame me
down. When she once finds that the attempt is useless, we shall get on better."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           213
"Aunty-"
"I know what you wanted to say. You wonder
I do not go to the root of the matter, and try to
lead her to Christ. I am praying thaet she may be
drawn to Him, but until she learns to submit to me,
it is useless to expect her to submit to Him. Her
father thinks the same; and I have'his full sympathy
in every effort I make to do her good."
It must not be supposed that Gabrielle was always
unruly and always in disgrace, and that she had no
pleasant traits of character. Almost everybody has
agreeable little ways that cannot be transferred to a
book; and this girl, at times so rude and self-willed,
had her gentle, even winning moods, and won love
and good-fellowship. Nor was it strange that at an
age when young people are apt to be unlovely if they
have not been handled aright, she resented the sudden bit and curb of her new surroundings, and fancied herself ill-used. Mrs. Grey did not, in the least,
lose heart. She knew she was not working in her
own strength, and knew, by long experience, that
though for a time the Lord answers never a word,
He invariably does answer in His own time, and that
that is always the best time. About a number of
Gabrielle's faults she said nothing to her; too much
fault-finding is almost worse than none;'but she deplored them before God, and then tried to meet them
with contrary example.




214        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
There was no good school in the neighborhood, and
as soon as under her care and rule the child's health
warranted it, she had a daily governess come from the
city to give her lessons; and finding she was fond of
music, Maud's long-silent piano was opened, and
the air was filled, now by the accomplished hand
of the master, now by the unmelodious bang of the
pupil. Things went better now; Gabrielle had no
time for idling; every hour brought its own occupation, and regular exercise, wholesome diet, and agreeable occupation broke up the habit of picking and
pecking at dainties, which had been so pernicious.
She caught, too, some of Margaret's tastes, and instead of thinking about dress as a matter of great import, would content herself to put on a woodland rig,
quaint, yet not ugly, and go off with her in quest of
the gems Nature is always flinging lavishly about.
They came home from their expeditions with baskets
running over with ferns, mosses, lichens, grasses, and
nobody knows what not, till their rooms looked verdant with beauty. Margaret got up a mossy bank
with red berries nestling in it here and there; Gabrielle must have one, like yet not like it, for no two
hands work on one and the same line; and Margaret
had a rustic basket hanging from every possible
point, and Gabrielle hasted to do the same. Mrs.
Grey looked on with delight at all this. No utterly
spoiled character riots in such simple pursuits, and




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           215
she who begins to love Nature, begins togrow cold
to all that is artificial. While in that house personal
neatness was made a law, dress was never talked
about as much more than a necessary evil to be attended to twice a year, and then forgotten. And
now that she had taken to ornamenting her room,
Gabrielle found she must keep it in order, and learned, too, that she had not a little executive power in
the matter of arrangement of furniture and clothing.
She began to observe, too, that though grandmamma
would not scold, she could and did punish, and that
invariably, when infringement of a rule required it.
Later on she perceived a regular system of rewards
going silently on. After a week of exceptional docility, an invisible good fairy would leave tokens of
her presence in her room; now it was a vase for flowers; now a little photograph; now a paper-weight; it
was not always possible to tell who this good fairy
was; but whoever it was, knew just what she wanted.
So the summer bloomed and budded and bore
fruit, and faded into autumn, and autumn froze
into winter. There was rarely a conflict now; Gabrielle was too busy to find time for them, and too
fond of the deeds of the good fairy to run the risk of
one when she could help it. Mrs. Grey was not in
the least surprised when, one day, the girl came shyly
behind her, put her arms around her neck, and whispered, "Grandmamma, I wish I was a Christian! "




216        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"So do I, my dear child," was the reply. "And
why not become one, this minute? "
" I don't know; I've tried ever so many times."
"Tried how?"
"To be good."
"Is it said anywhere in the Bible that being' good'
and being a Christian are synonymous terms?"
" I thought it was."
"We have our Lord's own declaration that there
is only one good Being in the universe,' that is God.'
Salvation is not offered to good people, but to bad
ones."
" Well-I am so bad that I don't believe it is meant
for me."
"The Bible says,'there is no difference.' Everybody has got to come to Christ on one level."
" Some are worse than others."
" True; but when it comes to our relation to Christ,
we all stand shoulder to shoulder. I have spent a
large part of my life in believing on and working for
Him, but that does not entitle me to one atom of His
favor. I must go to Him, every day, just as you
must go now, denouncing, renouncing myself, and
receive Him, by faith, as my only ground of hope."
Gabrielle looked puzzled, and was about to raise
another objection, but they were interrupted, and the
conversation was not renewed till the next day.




CHAPTER XVIII.
GABRIELLE knelt that night at her bedside, with a
latent, but strong, desire to walk, not by faith, but
by sight. She wanted to hear an audible voice from
heaven to assure her that she might feel sure of salvation. Mrs. Grey had had large experience in dealing
with souls, and soon detected and brought this to
light when they next met in her dressing-room.
"I wish there was something I could do to make
God love me," the child began.
"My dear, there is something."
"What is it?" was the eager demand.
"Believe on His Son, Jesus Christ."
Gabrielle's countenance fell.
"I can't believe. I don't know how! " she said.
"My child, if I should tell you that I was going to
take you to drive this afternoon, you would believe
me, should you not?"
"Yes, indeed."
" That would be having faith in me."
"Yes; but it wouldn't be loving you, and God
Io                     (217)




218        THE HOME AT'GREYI,OCK.
says we must love Him. Even if I can believe in
Him, I can't make myself love Him. I am sure I
would if I could."
"If it is true that you cannot love Him, then He
will not condemn you at the last day."
" It's all perfectly horrid  " cried Gabrielle, bewildered and excited.
"Don't say so, my poor child!" said Mrs. Grey,
drawing the girl to her and kissing her burning
cheeks. "Christ is altogether lovely, and all His
paths are peace.  He puts no difficulties in your
way; you make them  yourself.  Now let me ask
you one question. Have you not asked our Lord to
save your soul?"
"Yes; hundreds of times."
" And has He refused hundreds of times?"
" He must have, for I am not saved."
"Will you prove to me that you are not?"
"Why, if I was saved I should be full of joy; and
instead of that I am full of misery."
"Well, now, here are two poor men, brothers, and
they are homeless, and friendless, and weary, and
heavy-laden; but a rich man dies and leaves them
each a fortune. One of them learns this to be the
case, and is relieved of care and want; the other has
not heard of his good luck, and therefore is, to all
intents and purposes, as poor as ever."
"You mean that I may have faith and not know
it, and so my faith is of no use to me? "




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           2I9
"It brings you no present peace. Of course it
would save you in the end; but meanwhile you would
lead a dark, joyless life."
"Sometimes I feel as if I had been changed a
little," said Gabrielle, thoughtfully. "But my feelings are not alike two hours going."
"Of course not.  A thousand things vary our
emotions. The Bible says nothing about feeling
this way or feeling that, in order to be saved. It says'believe."
" I think, though, that it would be easier to believe
if I felt more. I keep hoping that sometime I shall
feel so much that God will pity and forgive me."
" In other words, you keep hoping to make yourself
agreeable to Him by a great display of emotion. Do
not be hurt at my saying this. Human nature is
supremely self-righteous, and is not willing to take
salvation as a free gift. I beg you to decide for
Christ now, with your will; having once done that,
your heart will follow fast enough."
" But suppose I begin and don't hold out?"
" Begin thus. Say to God:'Let me not wander
from Thy commandments;' and He will reply:' I
will put my fear in your heart that you shall not
depart from me."'
"Then there are so many things to give up if I
become a Christian," said Gabrielle, evasively.
"There are no good things to give up, and there




220        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
are thousands to gain. I cannot preach to you
below the gospel-standard, which says that the friend
of the world is the enemy of God."
"Well, He elects some people to save, and rejects
others. How can I know that I do not come under
the last head?"
"By electing Christ as yours, at this moment,
when His Spirit is striving with you to that end.
I can't tell you how it pains me to see you tampering
with divine truth as if it were a straw. I believe this
temporizing, argumentative temper comes from a
league between Satan and your own evil heart. If
you do not take care you will grieve away the Holy
Ghost. For my part, I would rather offend than
grieve a friend."
" Do you mean that the Holy Ghost is my friend? "
Gabrielle asked, in great surprise.
"Certainly.  Otherwise why should He hover
around you as He is doing now, offering you the
greatest prizes of life?"
"Why should He love me? Why should He offer
me prizes? I have never so much as given Him a
thought!"
"I do not know. I can only say:'Even so,
Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight.'"
"Then I won't hold out against Him another
minute, if God will take me, just as I am, a dreadfully
naughty girl! He may have me and welcome!




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           221
Only I wish I hadn't done so many things I am
ashamed of."
Some weeks later she came shyly again behind her
grandmamma and whispered:
"May I join the church next Sunday?"
"'If thou believest with all thine heart thou
mayest,"' was the fervent reply, and Gabrielle
slipped timidly away.
Everybody knows that, as a general rule, young
people cannot talk to their nearest friends about
their souls when they will confide in strangers. It
ought not to be so. A warm-hearted mother once
said that she began to talk to her children about
Christ when they were three weeks old! by which
sweet little exaggeration she only meant that she
gave her confidence, and won theirs, at the earliest
conceivable age.
Mrs. Grey perfectly understood that, taking Gabrielle at a disadvantage, she could not expect her
to sustain to herself the relation of a little child, and
that she would be painfully shy should she try to
penetrate her hidden life. Indeed there was little to
penetrate. The child apprehended dimly the path
on which she had entered.  All she knew about
herself was, that whereas her chief aim once was to
have a nice time, and that in her own way, her
earnest desire now was to be "good."
Mrs. Grey's life, far more than her instructions, had




222-       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
dropped, as a seed, into soil prepared for it by the
hand of Him who hears and answers prayer. Nor did
she at once emerge into a saint, with all the holy aspirations and activities of mature life. She was a child
still, and needed pruning, grafting, and weeding. But
the root of the matter was in her. That tiny spark
of grace that sometimes seemed to her and to her
friends to have died out, was there; it flickered, and
was often invisible to mortal eyes; but it was there,
and had her soul been at any moment required of her,
that grace, small though it was, would have been her
humble passport into the company of the redeemed.
Mrs. Grey's pastor at this time was quite an inexperienced man, and he would not venture to admit
any young people to hisichurch till he had seen their
parents or guardians. He came now to see her with
reference to Gabrielle.
" I think the root of the matter is in the child," she
said, " and that she may safely unite with the church.
But, if you will allow me to say it, these immature
young Christians need a great deal of looking-after.
Taking them into the church is like taking plants into
shelter. But shelter is not enough. All the conditions of growth should be observed, or instead of
blossoms and fruit, we shall have stunted or effeminate growth, or what is worse, no growth at all."
"One object I had in calling to-day," he returned,
" was to ask you if it would be possible to gather our




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           223
young people about you once a week for Christian
counsel?"
Mrs. Grey cast her eye over her already overcrowded life, and shook her head.
"I think I am playing the school-ma'am quite as
much as is good for me," she said, with a smile.
"Sometimes I am almost frightened at the multiplicity of things I am undertaking to do. However,
the work you propose looks very attractive; I might
spare one evening in the week."
" They are almost all confined to their studies in
the evening. Perhaps we should have to steal a piece
of Sunday."
" Oh, I don't see where."
"Nor I; unless I succeed in carrying out a plan I
have in my mind. My theory is that there is too
much preaching, and too little doing, of the word.
Men of business, for instance, have next to no time
for Christian work, and their piety falls to sleep in
consequence.  If the church would organize some
plan for setting everybody at work on Sunday afternoons, pastors and all, I think we might soon begin
to expect the coming of our Lord. By the bye, you
love to deal with difficult cases; I wish you would
take occasion to talk to Mr. Morrison. You have had
great experience, and I have had next to none."
"It takes more than experience to reach a polished
moralist," she replied. "It needs the toly Spirit.




224        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
I doubt if there is anything we can do but pray for
him. He is so intrenched in his own virtues that he
is farther out of reach than most hardened sinners."
"I know it; but there are his poor wife and those
six boys to be thought of."
"You have been among us so little time that you
are, perhaps, not aware that he is my brother."
"Indeed, I was not aware of it."
" He is my half-brother; we had different mothers.
At the time of his birth, and for many years following, our father was not a Christian; his training was
different from mine. Our mothers were as unlike as
possible, and I can't begin to tell you how it pains
me to look at his perfectly useless-because Christless-life. I think he will be saved at last; too much
prayer has been offered for him to permit his being
lost; but oh, how much he has thrown away! "
"He is an interesting man; he would be very useful in the church; I wish I could see him identified
with it."
"I will make one more attempt to move him. My
heart yearns over those dear boys."
A few evenings later saw her closeted with Mr.
Morrison, a fine-looking man, with complexion almost
as pure as a baby's, clear blue eyes, and a noble head,
crowned with waving white hair. They talked a while
about his boys, and his plans for their future; then she
spoke, naturally, for her heart was full of it, of the
special religious work then going on in the church.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           225
"It is mere excitement," he said; "it will not last."
"Time alone can prove that. In my own case the
excitement has lasted fifty years, and I see no signs
of its passing off. Robert, you can't think how it
distresses me to see you coming to church, Sunday
after Sunday, with a regularity that might put many
a professor to the blush, yet never advancing beyond
that point."
"I should like to ask you one question, Emily.
Haven't I heard you say you were almost certain of
my salvation?"
"Yes, I have said it. But salvation is not the sole
end of man; his first end is to glorify God."
" Well, don't I glorify Him? Point out any word
or deed of mine that is sinful, if you can. Am I not
fair and square in all my dealings? Do not I give,
liberally, to the poor? Am I bad-tempered? Am I
a backbiter? "
"We have gone all over this ground scores of
times," she replied. " If mere morality glorifies God,
then I must allow that you are living up to all His
claims. But the Bible is our standard, and we learn
there that Christ rejected a man who had kept the
law from his youth up."
"I never could see the reason for that. I have
always aimed to lead a blameless life, and think I
have."
"To be saved by a blameless life one must never
IO*




226        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
have transgressed in a single point. Now you do not
pretend that you never once transgressed?"
"I know it would be a lie to stand up in a prayermeeting, and say I was the chief of sinners, as so
many do."
"Did St. Paul lie when he called himself the chief
of sinners?"
"I suppose he knew what he was saying. I do not
pretend to be St. Paul, or saint anybody; but to pretend I am a great sinner, when I know I am not,
would be mere nonsense."
"That is as far as I ever get with you. You say
you believe the Bible; let us see what that says."
"Oh, I know what it says; that every man is, by
nature, a great sinner; granted, but all are not equally
depraved, and it has always been my nature to be
upright, faithful, and true. What would you have
more?"
" A great deal more. Morality is not Christianity."
" You think I am not a Christian because I never
joined the church. But I consider myself a better
man than half your professors. If I ever do set up
to be a Christian, I mean to put most of you to the
blush. The way old Mr. Whitcomb gets up and
whines over his'coldness' makes me smile."
"I don't like whines any better than you do. But
I want to call your attention to a fact you overlook.
Allowing that your life is blameless, let me' judge




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           227
you by that life. Its whole history is forgetfulness
of God, and that issues in final condemnation, however faultless your record in regard to man. You
are not honest and upright and amiable to please
God, therefore He scarcely looks at this exterior,
fair as it is in your eyes."
"Prove that I forget God, if you please. Is it
forgetting Him to go to church twice every Sunday? I do not make the pretension that some men
do, but I defy them to find me wanting in any virtue."
" Let us define the word' forget,' before we go any
farther. It implies heedlessness, does it not?"
" I suppose so."
"Then one who forgets God is heedless towards
Him. You go to church every Sunday; outwardly
this looks well. But the Divine -eye penetrates to the
heart. Does He find a true worshiper there?"
"You cannot prove that He does not."
" I cannot prove it, it is true, but I must judge of
the state of your heart on Sundays, by what I see of
your life on week-days. Now, I see no Christ there."
"I believe the Father judges me more leniently
than you do. He finds no fault with my worship."
" Does He not? Read what is said in prophecy
and afterwards repeated by Christ, of those who worship God with the lips while the heart is far from Him."
" While my outward life is spotless I am not afraid




228        THIE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
of my heart's not keeping step with it. Besides, there is
nothing malicious, or unkind, or severe in my heart,
that God should look upon with displeasure. It is
not mere sentiment He wants. He wants a good,
honest, manly life, and that He gets from me."
"If He gets from you all He wants, why does He
declare you must be born again?"
"I know most men need regeneration, but I feel
no need of any such change, and never did."
" My dear brother," said Mrs. Grey, with difficulty
suppressing her tears, " I see that further argument
is useless. You are living for yourself and not for
Christ, though He has died for you. You are training your sons to outward morality like your own.
But all your souls are in jeopardy. There are those
who have gone far beyond you; they have prophesied in Christ's name; cast out devils in His name;
done many wonderful works in His name; and He
has said,' I never knew you; depart from me, ye that
work iniquity.' "
"At any rate," he returned, "you are religious
enough to satisfy the most exacting Being possible.
If I fail to enter heaven through my good works, I
can plead yours."
" Mine! " she cried. "There isn't one on record!"
"Oh, if it pleases you to take that view of your
life, wvell and good! It seems to be a part of yout
creed to believe yourself a sinner."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           229
"It is, indeed, my creed," she replied, " and I find
that creed in the Word of God. One ray from it
darting through your soul would reveal to you depths
of evil of which you are now unconscious."
"'Where ignorance is bliss,'tis folly to be wise,'"
he said, smilingly, and rose to go.
Defeated and grieved, Mrs. Grey went to the Refuge of her soul, to plead once more on behalf of this
deluded man. But for a time "He answered her
never a word."




CHAPTER XIX.
CHRISTMAS came upon Greylock before they were
quite ready for it; it seemed to come earlier every
year. Margaret had worked very hard to get a picture done for each of the grown folks, and though
she had undoubted genius, and wrote poetry with
her artistic brush, of course her work was more or
less crude.
Once more the house flung open its doors, and the
scattered family came trooping in. They were a clannish set, wonderfully fond of each other, and willing
to take any amount of trouble in order to accomplish
this yearly meeting. Everybody found Frank's three
elder children marvelously improved in health and
behavior, and he and Lily could hardly believe that
these three well-bred, gentle, and obedient young
creatures were those who went forth from'them like
so many unruly colts. Belle's twins were now ten
months old-a lovely age-and she was positive they
could say " papa," a point on which the rest of the
family were doubtful. Mabel was as devoted a lover
(230)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            231
as ever; there was no room for her in her mother's
lap nowadays, but she still stood always close at her
side, except when Margaret beguiled her away.
" How long did it take you to paint all these pictures, Margaret?" Laura one day asked.
"A long, long time, small as they are," she replied.
"I can tell you, painting means work."
" It is a great comfort to us common mortals to
see genius plodding along the highway like the rest
of us," said Laura. "By the bye, that reminds me
that my book, such as it is, is done, and I am going
to read it aloud for your delectation the first stormy
day."
"Whose?  Mine?" asked Margaret.
"Not yours in particular; all you girls in general."
"And leave us boys out? " cried Frank.
"You boys won't be left out with my consent,"
said Harry. " Ithink it's a capital story."
"Of course you'd think it capital if it was' Mother
Goose,' " said Laura. "Don't any of you believe a
word he says. It isn't half so good as it ought to
be."
The stormy day was close at hand, and the whole
family met in the library, amused at the idea of
"Oney's" writing a book, and secretly afraid they
might have to quiz it. The ladies had their work,
and were, therefore, out of mischief during the reading. But the gentlemen kept Mrs. Grey in a constant




232        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
state of scandal the whole time. One unscrewed her
inkstand and looked in; another took up and laid
down her paper-weights, and always in the wrong
place; another upset a bottle of mucilage, hoped she
didn't know it, and furtively wiped it up with his
handkerchief; another bent a leaf-cutter Margaret
had painted for her, and every moment she expected
to see it snap in two. Now and then, to Laura's vexation, they whispered to each other, and now and then
a mamma was called out, and the reading had to be
suspended. But she kept at it manfully, and by degrees, as the " boys" became interested, they let the
library-table and its contents alone.
And this is Laura's story:
ERIC.
"It is of no use, I cannot stand; you see the ankle
is fractured."
" But the Signor will perish if he lies here on the
ice."
"Is there, then, no hope that one of the other
sledges will come to our rescue? "
"None whatever.  We are quite off the usual
route; nightfall is approaching, and there is but one
way of escape from death-if the Signor will permit
me to take him on my shoulders."
"Impossible! You could not bear such a burden a
single rod."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          233
"The Signor does not know the young men of Dalerna."
" Nay, I will not suffer you to make the trial. Go,
my good Olaf, and leave me to my fate. It is not
needful that both of us should perish. Take my
watch to my wife, and with it, present her with my
parting salutations. My purse I give to you; by its
means you can marry some blue-eyed maiden, and
tell her Fortune had a smile for her when it played
such a freak on me."
The young man colored with indignation.
"You do not know our muscles, stranger; neither
do you comprehend our scorn for money won by cowardice," he said coldly.
And, without another word, he proceeded to burden himself with the disabled traveler, who, after
making a feeble resistance, yielded himself to his fate.
This scene occurred on the frozen surface-of the
Gulf of Bothnia. A party of Italians, weary of their
own luxurious clime, had come to these northern
regions in hope of stirring their blood by adventures
and perils. Several ladies of the party remained at
Upsala in tolerable comfort, while their husbands and
brothers, expecting to find the gulf a smooth and
glassy expanse, hastened to cross it in sledges in pursuit of a new sensation. With great difficulty they
procured sledges and horses with their drivers, from
the country about Grisselhamn, a little town whence




234        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
they proposed to set out on the expedition. It was
also necessary to provide themselves with huge coats
of bearskin, before encountering the cutting blasts to
which these foreigners were unaccustomed.
Thus equipped, the party set forth in high spirits.
Instead, however, of smooth surface over which they
had expected to glide as on the wings of the wind,
they soon found, to their dismay, that they were toiling over a rough and dangerous series of masses of
ice, by means of which they were jolted and bruised
to the last degree of endurance. Again and again
they were thrown from the sledges, whence they
went rolling in all directions. To add to their dismay, the horses, fancying these strange objects on the
ice to be veritable bears, became every moment more
and more unmanageable, and one of them, wild with
terror, at length took flight. Several of the occupants of the sledge drawn by this horse were scat
tered along the way, and were gradually rescued by
their fellow-travelers.  He who remained at the
mercy of the terrified horse, kept his seat with the
utmost difficulty, and watched, with anxiety, every
motion of his sturdy young driver, Olaf Stein, whose
strength seemed to be giving way. Mile after mile
they flew over the jagged ice-field in awful silence;
awaiting at last in breathless suspense the fate that
seemed inevitable. When both were thrown violently
from the sledge they lay insensible on the ice, while




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           235
the horse, now left to himself, rushed onward and
was heard of no more.
Olaf was the first to recover, and by his aid, his
companion was also so far restored as to attempt to
rise to his feet. But what was his distress to find
that one of his ankles was fractured, and that he must
sink back again to the hard and icy bed on which he
had already lain until almost benumbed.
It was at this point that he was generous enough
to concern himself for the safety of his guide, while
hopeless of his own; and that Olaf, with equal generosity, resolved to rescue him or perish in the attempt.
The task he had assumed was severe. They were
quite off the usual track; night was approaching, and
the cold becoming intense. He toiled on in a sturdy
kind of patience, almost instinctively taking the right
direction, until at length he had the joy of finding
himself on the track whence the terror-stricken horse
had diverged. Very shortly, the other sledges came
in sight, and the party made the best of its way back
to Grisselhamn. The injured traveler was made as
comfortable as was possible under the circumstances,
and Olaf was sent to Upsala to bring thence his wife,
with her maid. The poor fellow had himself sustained a severe injury when thrown from the sledge,
and was also exhausted by his toilsome homeward
route. But he set forth at once on the journey to
Upsala without a word, and under his escort, those




236        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
he sought returned with him to Grisselhamn. Fortunately, he was not as entirely ignorant of the
Italian language as were his new charge of the Dalecarnian speech. He had wandered repeatedly so far
as the northern part of Italy in order to dispose of
various little articles of his own handiwork, as well as
those of his neighbors. His share of the profits of
these adventures had enabled him to purchase the
horse he had just lost, and by whose means he supported himself. This, therefore, seemed an inauspicious moment for falling in love, and of proposing to
himself to take a wife. But love being a sentiment
not particularly subject to order and rule, poor Olaf
had to yield to his fate. This fate was black-eyed,
and brown, and its name was Viola, and she who possessed these attractions was the little maid whose duty
it now was to take charge of her master, with such
aid as Olaf could render. Nursing was new business
to the hardy young peasant, but he was glad of occupation, and thankful for a task that kept him near
Viola. She, on her part, felt supreme contempt for
black eyes, from the moment she met the first kind
glance from Olaf's blue ones; if he proved an awkward nurse, why, there was all the more for her to
teach him. Besides, it was not long before she discovered the severe contusion he had received in his
fall, and felt it absolutely necessary to take his aching shoulder under her charge, and to treat it with a




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           237
vast deal of needed and a vast deal of needless compassion and care. Though his nature was honest as
the day, Olaf for once was willing to make the very
most of his bruises, since Viola was thus led to pour
out upon him such floods of pity as would soon lead
to love. When, therefore, the fractured ankle was
healed, and the Italian party ready to return home, and
Olaf was pressed to ask what favor he would wish in
return for his services, it is not so strange, considering what human nature is, that all he asked was permission to make a Swede of the little brown maiden
who, in his eyes, was the only maiden on earth.
Her mistress, a spoiled child of fortune, received
this proposal with indignation; said she could not
live without Viola, who knew all her ways, and for
whom she had done so much, and that, at least, she
could not spare her until their return to Italy. When
her husband overruled all these objections by reminding her that he owed his life to Olaf, she ceased open
argument and resorted to secret strategy.
" How do you expect to live in this villainous climate, you silly child? " cried she, when Viola, with
downcast eyes, owned her wish to do so. "You
will absolutely perish with the cold. Then think
what food you will have to eat f Instead of grapes,
and melons, and figs, you will have that abominable bread made of bran mixed with bark and
resin! I tasted a bit of it one day, and the very




238        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
thought of it sickens me. You think Olaf will provide you with flour? Nonsense! And then to sit
and spin, spin and knit, knit from morning till night!
Why, even the very children in their cradles are
taught to work, and I have seen them, myself, knitting all the way to school. What do you say? That
you are never so happy as when at work? And that
work for one you love will be sweet! You cannot
really pretend that you love that great clumsy fellow with his round face like the full moon, and his
breeches and knee-buckles, and odd little caps. Now,
Viola, that is actually too absurd! Think, now, there
was young Oglio, who had such a passion for you;
think of the cruelty of forsaking him for this stranger."
" I cannot forsake that bad man, for I always hated
him, and never would listen to him," cried Viola.
"And if the Signora thinks I am only fit to marry
such a little, idle, impertinent coxcomb, then the Signora thinks very ill of me."
" But then the conscience of the thing, Viola! To
renounce your religion just to gratify a mere freak of
fancy which you will outgrow in less than a month!
Really, when I think of it, I feel that I ought to use
the authority given me by your poor mother on her
death-bed, and absolutely refuse my consent to this
crime."
"Renounce my religion! Our holy mother forbid!" cried Viola. " Olaf will surely embrace it so




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            239
soon as he comes under my influence. He already
says I can wind him round my finger."
"It is very silly in you to repeat such nonsense.
Ah! if you but knew men as I do. The winding is
all on the other side, I assure you."
"It was silly," replied Viola; " I hope the Signora
will pardon me. But it is so long since any one was
so good as to love me! It is so lonely, so sad to be
an orphan in this great world, so full of fathers and
mothers."
" None can be so sad or so lonely as they who peril
their souls as you are about to risk yours," returned
her mistress, severely.
Viola became very pale, but was silent, and at that
time no further conversation took place. At her
next interview with Olaf she related to him all that
had passed, and begged to know if in marrying him
she should be forced to renounce the religion in
which she had been brought up.
" Nay," said Olaf, smiling, "I do not intend to be
so hard a master, little one."
Viola was satisfied. "I shall soon convert him,"
she said to herself.
" I will not frighten her," was Olaf's secret thought.
"The little thing loves me dearly; I shall soon hear
no more of her beads and mumnmeries. We shall go to
church every Sunday; by and by we shall have children; they shall have dark eyes and dark hair, and be
Lutherans, every one of them."




240        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
So in spite of obstacles, true love ran smoothly
with the twain into wedded life.
Olaf was put into a position to earn his bread and
that of his wife, and after taking leave of their friends,
he bore his little treasure to his home, where his aged
father and mother yet lived. Viola's life had been
hitherto spent in a sunny land, which had for her
little real sunshine. Her parents died when she was
quite a child, and the mistress into whose hands she
then passed was too self-absorbed to ask the question whether this human being had emotions. and
passions like her own. Now she went from seeming
luxury to the real luxury of being beloved. Olaf's
father and mother opened their hearts and took her
in without delay; they liked her quaint, lively ways,
and her foreign habits were a pleasant marvel, breaking in on the monotony of their hard lives. She, for
her part, was young and flexible, and adapted herself
readily to her new duties.
So their domestic life moved on harmoniously in
the main, and Olaf took great delight in teaching his
wife to speak the language of his own people, and in
hearing her pretty, foreign accent which gave a
charm to everything she said. She learned with marvelous rapidity, and the long winter evenings, full as
they were of necessary work, gave leisure for reading, also. There was only one point on which the two
differed seriously, and this was a vital one, their relig



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           241
ion. At first Viola began with great zeal to use various arguments with Olaf to convince him how much
she was in the right and how far he was wrong, but he
would not argue; he only laughed at her, called her
his little one, told her what beautiful hair she had,
and the like.  Then Viola would turn pale and
look displeased, but soon would whisper to herself,
" But he loves me! " and in that sweet conviction recover her good-humor. Meanwhile she watched his
honest, Christian life with increasing respect. She
could not help seeing that in his measure, religion
reigned over every detail of his existence, nor fail to
contrast it with that of her mistress, who, while faithful to fast and feast, and scrupulous as to prayers and
masses, did not hesitate to indulge herself in falsehood and passion.
It seemed strange to her that she had been able to
respect the religion of one whose violence through
many years of her servitude had left visible marks on
her flesh; then reproaching herself for such thoughts
she did penance in secret, and redoubled her zeal on
behalf of her husband.
With early May came spring, with buds and blossoms, and Viola welcomed the home of her adoption
in its new dress. She surprised her husband by appearing one Sunday morning in the national costume
worn by the Dalecarnians on all holidays. For the
first time he asked her to go with him to church, and
I I




242        TIIE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
for the first time she was in the mood to gratify him
Hitherto, she had resolved, come what might, never
to set foot within that dangerous spot, but on this, of
all days, should she and Olaf worship apart? Had
she not a sweet secret to whisper in his ear that would
make him love her better than ever, and would it be
so very great a sin just for that once to kneel with
him? So with her heart throbbing beneath her new
costume, the prettiest little peasant of the whole
picturesque scene, she entered the church with mingled
curiosity and fear. Watching Olaf, to do as he did,
she stood, with folded hands, to utter, silently, a few
words of prayer, then seating herself, she cast timid
glances about her. The aspect of the congregation
was earnest and reverent. So many rosy, blonde
children she never had seen, and coming back from
higher thoughts to every-day matters, especially to
the subject that at this time lay near her heart, she
hoped her little daughter —for surely it was to be a
little daughter-might be just like a fair, sweet child
who sat opposite, with large blue eyes like Olaf's, and
hair almost silvery in its soft beauty. And then she
smiled to herself to think how quaint and charming
her child should look in a little costume of its own,
embroidered with her own hands; but after all, would
it not be best to have a boy? would not Olaf like a
boy? Of course he would! Then it should be a boy
tall and strong and ruddy; not the slender, dark-eyed




THE HIOME AT GREYLOCK.          243
little fellow she had pictured to herself in years gone
by, when dreaming of a home and children, but a real
Swedish yeoman, with buckles on his shoes and a picturesque holiday suit like his father's. She laughed
as this image presented itself to her imagination: a
little low laugh, but Olaf heard it, and turned quickly
and looked in her face. Tears of vexation filled her
eyes. "Oh, Olaf," she whispered to herself, "you
would forgive me if you knew why I laughed, I am
sure you would!"  Olaf's countenance was serious,
but he looked down kindly on his little wife, who sat
abashed beneath his glance, recalling her wandering
thoughts.
" Here I have been trying so long to convert him,"
she said to herself, " and after all he is far better than
I am. Nothing could make him laugh in church!"
Thus humbled, Viola entered into the service with all
her heart, and listened to the sermon with eager attention, striving to catch its meaning, though only
able to do so in a dim and misty way, so new was the
language. There were many old people in the congregation, some of whom slept through the whole
service, while others coughed; there was also no small
variety of babies, who cried whenever they saw fit,
and were pacified with onions by their mothers.
"I never will bring my baby to church," thought
Viola, "and on no account will I feed it with onions!
But here I am again, as wicked as ever, and not list



244         THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
ening to the sermon at all. Ah, I will pinch myself
black-and-blue till I learn to fix my thoughts better!
Oh, Jesus-the Jesus Olaf loves-come and help me
to be good!"
This prayer went forth from the very depths of her
heart, and an answer came at once. It seemed as if
scales fell from her eyes at that moment, and she felt
her soul united to Olaf's and those of the true souls
about her; felt the points of union and forgot the
points of difference, and with all the warmth of her
nature., gave herself to Christ. Ever after, this beautiful Sunday lived in her mind and in that of Olaf's as
the bright spot in their lives, for thenceforth there was
no discussion, no'my religion,' and'thy religion,'
but a gradual, quiet union of belief and practice.
"There's the lunch-bell! " said Mrs. Grey, as Laura
finished the last sentence. " We'll hear the rest after
we have sustained ourselves with oysters and other
creature comforts. Gabrielle, my dear, please don't
drag on your father so; you may love him to your
heart's content, but you needn't eat him up."
Gabrielle would once have fired up at even as goodhumored banter as this, and Frank was astonished&to
see her loosen the hold she had on his arm, and let
him follow his mother's significant glance, and offer
it to his wife.
After lunch there was an hour with the little ones,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          245
and any amount of fun and frolic, headed by the Rev.
Cyril, whose specialty it was to be a bear, and go
round, on all-fours, after a shrieking, laughing, scampering crowd.
At length, order was restored, the family group reassembled, and Laura continued her story.




CHAPTE'R XX.
SOME months later, as Olaf held in his big arms
his first-born son, Viola shyly whispered:
" It was to have been a girl, but for your sake I decided it should be a boy. Thinking of it on that
blessed Sunday, I laughed, wicked little creature that
I was. He is not like you, neither is he like me; indeed he is very ugly; but who cares? We shall love
him just the same! "
"' Nay, I will not have him called'ugly,'" said his
father, " for he has your hair, Viola, and my eyes, and
haven't you told me a thousand times you fell in love
with me on account of my blue eyes? "
"In love! " cried Viola; "now, Olaf, you are too
absurd. As if anybody could be in love with such a
big, burly, giant-like fellow! Why, how should I,
half a mile below you, see up so high as to know the
color of your eyes, unless indeed I climbed a laddei
on purpose?"
So saying, Viola pulled the giant down to his knees
by her bed-side, laid his great head on her breast, and
(246)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           247
patted and caressed it, while railing at him and his
eyes and his baby to her heart's content. Olaf received
these mingled attentions with purrs of satisfaction,
and went on his way with the calm conviction that
however his wife and child might look to other people, there was no doubt they were both as near perfection as need be.
In spite of her happiness and of Olaf's cares, however, Viola did not recover from her illness very rapidly. She missed now many comforts to which she
had been accustomed; some dainty to tempt her appetite, or the luscious fruits of her own land. Her
brave, true heart, and Olaf's affection sustained her
amid these new demands on her fortitude; when
strength failed her she made up for it by patience and
energy, and though she accomplished it painfully, she
did accomplish as much as other vigorous women of
her class. Olaf worked diligently to procure for Viola
such alleviations as he could think of; but always accustomed to a life of the utmost simplicity, many of
her real wants, had they been expressed, would have
seemed to him most puerile.
The child received the name of Eric; Viola thus
honored and gratified Olaf's father; but she promised
herself that her second child should bear the name of
her own mother.
Little Eric, at six months old, had reversed the
apparent gifts of his birthright. His dark hair fell




248        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
off, and was replaced by a crown of luxurious golden
curls; his blue eyes became steel-colored, then a soft
brown, like his mother's; he was a marvel of the
beauty of two races. And as his character developed he proved the truth of the saying, that mingled
races produce the finest strain of nature.
In his very babyhood the neighbors said he was no
common child, and, of course, Olaf and Viola thought
so too, though they both said, as they thought they
ought to say, that he was like all the other babies in
the world. Viola, indeed, knew little about children.
She had neither brother or sister, and the mistress
with whom she had spent most of her life could not
bear the sound of a child's voice. Eric was, therefore, an object of great curiosity to his young mother; a little mystery whom she was never tired of
studying. She and Olaf had some pleasant strife
together as to the first language the child should
speak; naturally enough, he chose that which he heard
most frequently, and spoke his first lisping words in
her musical tongue. His grandmother thought that
for a Swedish boy to speak Italian was nothing less
than a miracle, and prophesied that such a child
would die before its time. There was her old neighbor, Stenbock; her son died of knowing too much,
and of having his hair left to grow till it hung down
all over his shoulders like a yellow veil; she hoped
Viola would not let Eric's hair grow in that fashion,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          249
though, to be sure, its having once been dark might
make all the difference in the world.
But when Eric soon proved that he could talk
Swedish almost as well as herself, the good grandmother shook her head, and hoped, with secret misgivings to the contrary, that this was not some wicked
spirit come in human shape to ruin them all. Viola
concerned herself very little with such fancies. Everything the child said or did amused her, but she had
too little experience to know how individual this little creature was; how imitative and yet how original.
As soon as he could speak plainly, Eric began to go
singing about the house, as his mother did. He
caught both words and air without effort, and when
he sang, seemed as unconscious as a bird on the wing.
Then one day, as Viola sat at work, using her needle
with great rapidity, she was suddenly aroused from
her absorption in it by Eric's long silence; unusual
quietness in an active child usually means mischief
brewing, as every mother knows. Looking up, she
saw Eric seated gravely opposite her, with a bit of
cloth fastened to his knee, and imitating her every
motion with precision. He had fastened his thread
to a pin, and was making this pin move in concert
with her needle, only, of course, his movements were
only a pretence, while hers were real. She threw
herself back in her chair to laugh at her ease at this
comic scene; whereupon Eric, with no little humor
TT*




250        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
twinkling in his eye, threw himself back likewise,
and laughed in unison with her.
"You little monkey, how dare you!" she cried,
half vexed and half amused; but Eric looked at her
with such an open, innocent face, that she saw he
meant no harm, and if a monkey, was a harmless one
after all.
But now the whole household was kept busy and
merry with the incessant activity of this quaint child.
Nothing escaped his observation. He coughed like
his grandfather; he made believe knit, and took snuff
like his grandmother.
When Viola shook her head at him, he would instantly turn upon her that open, honest face, free
from guile and malice, and obey forthwith. No one
who caught that glance could help forgiving the unconscious child and taking him into his confidence.
Viola, meanwhile; attained the desire of her heart
-a little Swedish maiden with rosy cheeks and fair
hair,- the very funniest miniature of Olaf. Eric, of
course, cried when the baby cried, or at least lifted
up his voice in perfect imitation, and crept when the
baby crept, as if going on all-fours was man's normal
mode of locomotion. At the same time he constituted himself her guardian and protector. All the
songs he had picked up he sang to her as she lay in
her cradle, and as she grew older he repeated to her,
with marvelous accuracy, all the tales he had heard




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           251
in his short life. Then the tenderness Olaf poured
out on Viola, Eric lavished on his little sister; words
sacred to husbands and wives who love each other,
and which they never mean to let fall on profane
ears, will sometimes escape; such words and tones
the boy treasured in his memory perhaps many long
months, and then showered them on Carina with all
manner of courtesies and gallantries. She received
them without much response, but with sweet content, for her instincts told her that when Eric said he
loved her and could not imagine how he ever got
along without her, he was not just " making believe."
There was no school in the neighborhood, and
Viola was too ignorant of the language to teach Eric
to read. His grandmother, therefore, undertook this
task, which proved to be only a pleasure, he learned
with so much ease, and was so joyous and cheerful
over his books.
His fine ear enabled him to catch her tones, so that
when he first began to read aloud to his father the
effect was almost ludicrous; by degrees, however, as
his mind developed, he read with great spirit, like,
yet unlike, all he had ever heard. By degrees the
peculiarities and talents of this strange boy began to be
much spoken of; strangers who passed that way made
the excuse of needing refreshment, in the hope of
seeing for themselves some of his performances.
Viola received them with true Swedish hospitality,




252        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
as her husband wished her to do, but she never could
succeed in making Eric understand what was desired
of him. His unconsciousness saved him from vanity;
what he said and sang, and what he did, were all as
natural and simple as childhood could make them.
There had been one great inconvenience in his imitative propensities; since his early babyhood they
had not dared to take him to church. They knew
that the whole congregation would be excited to
merriment should he have the opportunity to watch
the grotesque gestures of the pastor in the pulpit.
Eric had already caught them, to a certain extent,
when the minister made his visits at the house; but
bad must not be suffered to become worse. When
he was four years old, however, Olaf resolved that
his boy should be cured of a habit which would make
him disagreeable, now that he was ceasing to be a
child. He, therefore, set himself seriously to work.
" Eric, do you know what sort of an animal a
monkey is? " he demanded.
Eric began eagerly to tell all he knew, which was
not a little.
" Well, and should you like to have everybody say
you were a monkey?"
"I don't know," replied Eric, reflectively.  "It
wouldn't turn me into a monkey to have folks say I
was a monkey. And if I really was one, why, then I
should have a great long tail, and I could hang to the




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           253
branches of trees, this way; look, father, I'll show
you how! "
" Has the boy really no sense of shame? " cried
Olaf, angrily.
"Leave him to me, I will manage him," said his
grandmother.
" Do you know, Eric, how nice and pleasant it is
to go to church? There are all the good people together praising God. They sing like the angels, so
that one actually sheds tears when one hears them.
Now, would not you love to go and shed tears at
church, listening to such beautiful music?"
"I shouldn't want to go there to cry," returned
Eric. "I should like to go and sing like an angel,
though."
" But if we let you go you will not be contented
with singing. You will be getting up on the seat,
making your arms go like our dear pastor's."
" Should I?" said Eric. " But, dear grandmother,
couldn't you tie my arms with a string?"
" Fie! now you are talking nonsense. And great
boys four years old should not talk nonsense."
"Yesterday, when I asked for another piece of
oaten cake, you said I ate too much for such a little
boy," said Eric, thoughtfully.  "But it is a long
while since yesterday; perhaps I am a great boy
norw."
"Well, well, child; but now suppose we take you




254        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
to church with us to-morrow, will you behave yourself like a little man, and not fall into any of your
tricks?"
" I don't know," said Eric, mournfully. "Maybe I
should. I never do any tricks on purpose. They
come and make me."
" Who come and make you?"
"The Trolls, and all of them."
"Now who has been teaching the child such wicked
nonsense?" cried Olaf, starting to his feet. "Oh,
mother, I would not have believed this of you! "
"Don't be angry with mother, Olaf dear," said
Viola, gently. "She can't help believing things she
has been taught all her life."
Olaf was silent. He felt angry with his mother,
and wanted to reproach her. But that must not be
in the presence of that keen-eyed child, who would
remember every look and tone.
"Eric," he said at last, " you will go to church with
us to-morrow, for our pastor will have it so. But
there are no Trolls in God's house, therefore if you
are not a good boy I shall know whose fault it is."
"You will be a good boy, Eric, won't you now?"
said his mother, coaxingly.
" Yes, dear mother, I will," replied Eric, in tones so
perfectly like her own, that, as usual, they all burst
out laughing.
With such management the only wonder is the poor




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          255
child was not ruined at once. But He who commits
little children to the hands of inexperienced and ignorant parents-and are there any earthly hands that
are not such?- He overrules the mistakes and corrects
the errors. Eric had been used all his life to be coaxed,
threatened, laughed at, praised, and argued with, in
multitudes of cases where a single word of parental
authority was all that was needed.
The next day was a bright, cheerful Sunday, and
the whole family set off for church in good spirits.
Eric was full of curiosity to know what going to church
could really mean. He helped pack the basket of dinner,
and made himself useful in many ways a less-observing
child would not have thought of. On entering the
church he watched carefully to see what his father and
mother did, and perceiving that they stood for a moment with folded hands, engaged in silent prayer, he,
too, closed his eyes and moved his lips, with an aspect
of great devotion. When they were all seated, his
eager gaze at the unwonted scene around him repaid
his mother for bringing him with her. She enjoyed
his surprise and pleasure, and showed her sympathy
with him by pressing the little hand she held in her
own. Nothing was lost upon him, and he responded
at the close of every prayer, like a veteran, until that
preceding the sermon; for a moment his attention
wandered, and he sat lost in thought, till suddenly
arousing himself, he uttered a vigorous " Amen" that




256        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
was heard all over the church, and which broke in
upon the text which the pastor was repeating in solemn accents. Viola laughed; Olaf pretended not to
have heard, but changed color in spite of himself;
the grandmother shook her finger at him, and Eric,
amid these contending influences, felt half pleased
and half frightened. He now, however, was attracted
by the sermon, and the manner of its delivery; he
sat erect, silent, almost breathless, a picture of awe and
of ecstacy. Gradually, seeing him so absorbed, Olaf
and Viola began to feel easy about him; Olaf gave
himself up to enjoyment of the sermon; Viola attended
to Carina, who continually asked if service were most
done, and whom she invariably answered; the old
grandmother fell asleep, and the grandfather began to
take snuff. Eric unconsciously rose to his feet, climbed
up to the seat, stretched forth now this arm, now that,
clasped his hands, looked heavenward, and, in short,
copied every motion of the pastor with unerring accuracy. The pastor, instead of serious faces, saw endless smiles; he was first surprised, then displeased;
his gestures became animated with these emotions,
and Eric faithfully repeated them, till, by degrees,
nearly the whole congregation was in an uproar. The
poor little fellow was ignominiously pulled down from
his throne, and borne out of church by his exasperated father, who could hardly wait till he got him to a
safe distance, before he gave him a most severe thrash



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           257
ing. He was interrupted in this labor by a hand laid,
with force, upon his arm, and turning resentfully to
the intruder, was ashamed to find himself confronted
by the pastor's wife.
He pulled off his cap, and saluted her, and Eric, in
the midst of his pain, did the same.
The Fru Prostinna looked kindly down upon the
little boy, and instantly reassured, a frank smile lighted up his ingenuous face.
"You were severe with the poor child," said the
Fru Prostinna.
"It was because I forgot to have my hands tied!"
cried Eric eagerly. " I brought the string, but when
I got inside the church and saw so many people, all
dressed in holiday clothes so gay, and the Prost with
his black gown and big ruff, and heard the singing and
praying; oh, I forgot my string! But here it is," he
continued, drawing it from his pocket, " and next time
father will tie my hands."
The Fru Prostinna smiled.
" Well, my little fellow," said she, " I think it would
be better to tie your hands than to break your bones,
and you may thank me for hurrying after you out of
church, to see that you were not killed outright. Play
about now, while your father and I have a little talk
together."
As soon as Eric was out of hearing, Olaf began to
apologize for his severity to the child.




258       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"It is the first time I ever laid my hand on him,"
he said, "and it shall be the last."
"Do not say that, Olaf. Correction is as necessary
in our days as it was when Solomon forbid the sparing
of the rod. Rather resolve never to strike him again
in anger."
"Why, I could not strike him at all, if I were not
angry," said Olaf. "For though he is wild in his way
of mocking everything he sees and hears, he is a good
boy in other things; a merry, pleasant boy as need
be."
"Yes, I know. I have heard all about that. And
if I were you, instead of reproving or laughing at this
habit, I would turn it to good account. His active
nature craves employment; now the next time you
manufacture any of those pretty baskets you used to
make, lay materials and tools within his reach, and
see if instead of imitating, in a superficial way, all
your motions, he does not really produce a fac-simile
of your work."
This was a new idea to Olaf, and it gave him pleasure. "Ah, if Eric had the Fru Prostinna for his mother, she would train him so wisely and discreetly;
whereas, Viola is never the same person one day that
she is the next. She lets the children do so many
things I was not allowed to do at their age. And the
Fru Prostinna would have made a man of Eric. Not
a hard-working peasant, a great rough fellow like my



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           259
self, but, who knows? a clergyman perhaps, with his
parish and his schools, and his farms and his houses!"
And Olaf began to feel aggrieved, and as if Viola,
in being of his own rank in life, and uninstructed and
capricious, had done him a wrong and deprived him
of the chance of giving a refined and educated mother
to his children.
But when she came, at the close of service, to meet
him, dressed in her becoming holiday costume, her red
bodice and white cap, her face looked, as it always
did, home-like and very dear. He laughed at himself
for the foolish thoughts that a momentary ambition
had awakened, and as they sat on the grass, eating
their dinner together, told her what the pastor's good
wife had said to him.
"But you only make baskets and things of that
sort in the winter evenings," said Viola. "And such
work as you are doing now, he cannot possibly do.
But my work he can learn, and that he shall do forthwith."
So the next day, when she swept her house she put
a little broom into Eric's hands, saying, " Sweep now,
as I do. Don't just move your brush in the air; do
just as I do, and make the floor clean for mother."
Eric obeyed, and when he saw that his little brush
helped to beautify the floor, he used it with delight,
singing joyfully to himself the while, and doing his
work with his mother's exactitude. So it was in al



260        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
most all the details of the day; and when, in the afternoon, she sat in her well-ordered room, in her clean,
fresh dress, and began to sew, she gave Eric, not a bit
of waste cloth, but part of a little garment, saying:
" See, now, dear Eric, when I sew I join these pieces
together, and make your little sleeve. But when you
sew you make nothing. You only move your arms
as I move mine."
Then Eric watched her more closely, and saw that she
pulled her needle through her work, now in, now out;
imitated her with joy, and really made the little
sleeve. Viola showed it to his father in the evening,
and they all thought it a wonderful affair, as it indeed
was, for the stitches were not the unwilling, irregular
workmanship of compulsion, but the result of a taste
that must indulge itself in aiming at perfection. Eric,
himself, was not satisfied with his sleeve because it
was not so nicely done as his mother's, but she laughed
at the idea of his expecting at his first attempt to
equal her needlework, of which she was very proud.
A few weeks later, two little arms came to fill the
little sleeves; the baby-boy to whom they belonged,
was beautiful from his birth; even Viola was satisfied
with him, though she would not own it. Eric did
not cry in imitation of his brother, as he had done
with his sister; he knew better, now; besides, he was
too busy to waste his time in watching him, except
when bidden to do so. His father had been occupied




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            261
at intervals during several weeks in manufacturing
articles which Viola needed about the house: a table,
two chairs, and a little bedstead for Carina, who
must give up her place by her mother's side to
the baby. Eric could hardly contain himself till he
had made miniature furniture of the same pattern.
To be sure, he pounded his fingers and cut them, and
met with all sorts of difficulties, but that made no
difference; chairs and table and bedstead he was
resolved to make, and make them he did; and then
his mother made a little doll of the right size for the
furniture, and the whole establishment was given
to Carina. His father was astonished at this performance, which he could appreciate better than
he could the needlework.  He began to find great
pleasure in taking Eric with him to his work,
and in answering his endless questions, which were
daily becoming more and  intelligent.  He was.
obliged to work very hard, now that there were
so many little children, for though the grandfather
owned the house in which they lived, this was
all they possessed, except the small bit of land which
had been bought at the time of his marriage, when
Olaf hoped to add to it; but that he had never been
able to do. Shortly after the birth of the third baby,
the grandfather began  to suffer seriously  from
rheumatism, particularly in his hands, so that by degrees he became quite unable to do work of any sort.




262        TIIE IIOME AT GREYLOCK.
Olaf must do double duty; but it was some relief to
see Eric growing every day stronger and more useful,
and to look forward to the time as not far distant,
when he would materially help in the support of the
family.
To be sure, the. neighbors all said among themselves, that Eric would be Jack of all trades, and
master of none; such prodigies, they were sure, never
turned out in the end to be anything wonderful; and
after all, he wasn't so much of a marvel as he might
be.
Olaf, however, determined to have Eric's education
hurried forward as speedily as possible. But how
was this to be done? Viola knew how to keep
her house, to bear children, and to be a good, loving
mother to them; but beyond these duties she could
not go. Her education was far inferior to that of the
peasantry about her; she could neither read nor
write. The grandmother had taught Eric to do
both, and had made him say the catechism every
Sunday till he knew it past ever forgetting one of its
ponderous words; but this did not satisfy Olaf; he
was sure he ought to do more for this boy who had
been endowed by nature with such varied powers.




CHAPTER XXI.
WIIILE the' subject was under discussion, the
Prost came driving over from the village, to make
known that he had secured a teacher for the neighborhood, who would collect the children together for
instruction, as ought to have been the case long before. The family rejoicings were great; but the
question now arose, how was the boy to get to the
school? A Dalecarnian mother would easily have led
him thither, with her baby strapped upon her back;
but Viola was not strong enough for such an undertaking. But as the grandfather's rheumatism had
only disabled his hands, he volunteered as escort, and
as the old man and the child went to and fro together, many were the godly instructions that fell
into the receptive, youthful soul. Not to be entirely
outdone by her husband, the grandmother every
morning plucked a clover-leaf for the boy, to insure
good luck. She was yet in the prime of life; tall
and strong and ruddy; she could work on their bit
of land like a ploughman, and understood all the
(263)




264        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
petty economies peculiar to the hard lives of her
country-women.  Bark-bread, revolting to Viola,
nourished her powerful frame, and the bracing air of
her native valley gave color to her cheek. But for
her, Viola could never have endured the hardships of
her lot.
Olaf, meanwhile, had, during the winter evenings,
manufactured a sufficient quantity of articles to
justify another pedestrian trip to Italy, but when he
spoke of it, Viola clung to him, with tears, entreating
him not to go. But he yearned for change; the
novelty of domestic life was over; the spirit that had
brought Viola's master and his friends to the North,
urged him to the South.
" Don't cry, little one," he said, " I sha'n't be gone
long, and shall bring back what will make us comfortable for a long time. Pray for me, night and morning; take the communion faithfully; watch over the
boy's soul in my place, and see that his grandmother
reads the Bible to him every day."
Eric watched the parting between them with his
usual keen observation. Why did the mother cry,
and the father smile, he wondered; and why should
his soul be watched over more than Carina's? And
where was his soul, after all?
"Carina mia," he said solemnly, as he started for
school next morning, "you should put your arms
around my neck and weep when we part, like the




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           265
dear mother. And I shall watch over your soul, as
the father has watched mine."
"Was there ever such a boy?" cried Viola.
Eric gave her one of his guileless smiles, and said:
"No, never," exactly as if he were talking of some
third party; and then, with the usual good-bye kiss,
proceeded on his way.
Everybody they met on the way to and from
school was hard at work, save very aged men and
women, who, however, were not idle, but might often
be seen seated amid groups of fishermen, or peasants
at work in the fields, reading the Bible aloud. Eric
marked, and inwardly digested, this, and though he
had not yet learned to read well, could pretend to do
so to perfection. In his father's absence his grandparents read a chapter to him every day; he would
then take the book and, by a wonderful act of
memory, with his eyes fixed upon the page, repeat
word for word to the bewildered Carina.
As Olaf pursued his solitary way, his thoughts
dwelt fondly on his little home, and proudly on his
boy. But when he reflected that his education would,
at best, be limited, and that he would grow up to a
heritage of economy and care, he sighed, and wondered why nature made such mistakes-lavishing gifts
upon the poor, to whom they were of no use, and
often withholding them from the rich, to whom they
would have been so welcome.
I12




266        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
He made his way once more into Italy, and disposed of his wares quite readily-more so than ever
before, because he now spoke Italian readily. His
weary shoulders were gladly relieved of the heavy
pack they had borne, and he now bethought himself
that he might indulge Viola with some memento
of her native land. But what should it be? It was
an event in his life to make a present, and he felt
almost ashamed of himself for being so sentimental.
While he stood stupidly scratching his head, a merry,
musical voice fell on his ear, that was so like Viola's
that he started and turned, almost expecting to
see her before him. It was a young girl, daughter
of the man to whom he had sold his wares, and
she was asking if he did not mean to carry home
some gift to his wife, unconsciously hoping that he
hadn't one.
Olaf felt that he could confide in one of Viola's
country-women, and in a few words told her the
dilemma he was in.
A quick flash of intelligence lighted the girl's face,
and she began searching among the heterogeneous
articles scattered about, and finally held up, in triumph, a small picture, in which Italy's beautiful blue
was the color that chiefly caught the eye.
Olaf knew little about art, but had some general
idea that even this small study was beyond his
means. But the musical tongue ran merrily on;




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           267
he should have it for her country-woman for a mere
song, and it would warm her heart to see a bit of her
own sky.
"Yours," she said, "is bleak and cold. I would
not live there; it would kill my heart!"
At the same time she would have tried the experiment under the guidance of such a genial-looking
man as Olaf, provided he had no wife.
"And now," she said, "something for the boy,
with his blue eyes and rosy cheeks."
"'Black eyes and olive cheeks, like thine!" cried
Olaf.
The girl blushed and smiled.
"Would this please him, think you?" she asked,
producing a miniature palette, on which were fastened cakes, in water colors-a cheap affair, such as,
however, has gladdened many a child's heart.
"And, stay, here are brushes, likewise-a gift to
the Swedish boy with my eyes and hair."
Olaf received the little gracefully-offered gift, and
took leave, the young girl following his sturdy
figure with her eyes as long as it was in sight.
"The saints grant that the father does not miss
the picture, and beat me for as good as giving it
away," she cried; "and if he does, Antonio shall
paint him another. Ah, Antonio, if your eyes were
but blue, and your cheeks ruddy-! If you were tall,
and straight, and strong, and not as black as a




268        THE IT )ME AT GREYLOCK.
raven, and round-shouldered, and bow-legged! And
still painted divinely!"
Olaf proceeded rapidly home, and greeted his wife
in a way that procured for Carina, on the part of
Eric, embraces, kisses, and asseverations not a few.
But when the picture was produced, and Viola saw
this bit of her native land, a strange complication
of emotions she could not understand made her
burst into tears. A sense of the beautiful had long
lain dormant in her soul amid the stern scenes about
her.  Now came reminiscences of sunshine, birds
and flowers, and delicious fruit; of works of art seen
in the house of her master at Rome, and dimly
appreciated.
"Thou wicked picture, to make the dear mother
cry!" said Eric, rushing at it with a stick of wood.
"I'll kill thee! "
But as his eye fell upon it, his hand dropped at
his side, and a new soul illumined his face. They
laughed at him, they shook him, they tried in every
way to divert his rapt attention, but all in vain; he
stood like a devotee before a shrine, and lost to all
beside.
"Let him alone," said Olaf, at last. "He has
gone clean daft over a picture no bigger than my
hand!"
Indeed, he and Viola had enough to talk about,
for they had had no correspondence during their
absence, as Viola could not write.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          269
" I have had a strange proposition made to me,"
said Olaf. "Before selling my wares, who should I
stumble upon but your Signor and Signora. The
Signor recognized me at once, and made friendly
inquiries about you. The Signora was, at first, very
haughty and distant; but after a while became more
gracious, and spoke of you in a way that made me
proud of you. She says she is out of health, and
sad, and lonely; and that if we would all come to
their villa, near Rome-you to be to her what you
once were, and I his valet —they would make it a
great object to us."
"And I suppose our children count for nothing,"
said Viola, indignantly.
"Yes; they seemed to think the children could
stay with their grandparents. But isn't it a pity
now that we could not go just for a time, and earn
money to educate the boy?"
" Olaf, I am ashamed of you," said Viola. "Leave
our children, and go and live in that idolatrous land!"
" But you hate so to spin."
"I adore spinning."
"And the bark-bread is so nauseous to you."
"It is delicious."
"And you have no grapes, no peaches, no melons."
"Grapes, and peaches, and melons! Ugh! Disgusting things!"
Olaf listened, bewildered, but convinced.




270        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"I thought," he faltered, "that you had often said
you used to revel in luxuries; but it seems I was
mistaken."
"Indeed you were, you bad child. Talk not to me
of Counts and villas. Did I not enter Paradise when
I left them?"
"Then the picture does not please you? My mind
misgave me when I bought it. But the maiden who
selected it was like you, Carissima, and had me round
her finger."
" The picture is bewitched; it has driven the boy
mad. Eric, come to me! "
The boy woke from his dream of ecstacy and
bounded towards her.
"See what the father has brought thee! Put in
the thumb-so; no, no, the left thumb; hold the
brush thus; ah, I have seen men paint in my country.
Bring me a cup of water, and a bit of paper; there,
my little man, now thou art an Italian, not a Swedish
boy, and shalt paint Carina."
The boy looked at her, and then at the colors, delighted, confused, trembling, as she made some inartistic dabs upon the paper; then suddenly seized the
materials and began to work himself, making a rude
imitation of the picture that had so entranced him.
Amid their homely, hard-working life, his parents
ceased to heed him. He was out of mischief, and
they had much to think of and much to do. Days,




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           27I
weeks passed, and Eric painted on; always at the one
subject, never weary, never impatient, but discarding
one copy, only to begin on another.
At last the Prost drove up in great state, and was
in the midst of a solemn harangue, when his eye
suddenly fell upon a row of pictures pinned to the
wall.
"What is all this?" he cried, imperiously.
"The boy only does it in his play-hours," said Viola,
apologetically.
"The boy!" repeated  the Prost.  "Unhappy
mother!"
Viola trembled, and caught at the nearest chair.
"' What is the matter?" she gasped.
"The boy is a genius " he hissed in her ear.
"Is it my fault?" she asked, piteously. "Did I
create him? And what is a genius? Is it anything to
come between him and salvation?"
"Yes, woman, it is. Take these colors away from
the child; give him no more play-hours, and set him
at honest work. What has the son of a peasant to
do with genius, I should like to know?"
" We will do all we can to cure him of it," said Olaf,
in deep humility.
The Prost departed, leaving the frightened household fluttering behind him, like poultry besieged by a
fox.
When Eric caine home from school the terrific an



272        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
nouncement was made to him that his beloved colors
were his no longer; that the mother had thrown
them into the fire, and the grandmother raked hot
coals over them. The boy uttered not a word, and
did not shed a tear. He was like one stunned. But
there was something awful in his childish silence.
"Eric," said his mother, "we have not done this
in anger. But the Prost willed it, and who dares
resist the Prost?"
" Mother, what have I done to anger the Prost?"
" He says you are a genius."
"Is that something very bad?"
"Oh, yes! Very, very bad! "
" But you said the dear Lord would not let me be
bad, if I prayed to Him. And I have prayed six
times, and four times."
"Well, you must pray fifty times."' Yes, I will."
He went and knelt down, and folded his hands,
looking upward and said:
" Thou, dear Lord, I did not be a genius on purpose. It came its own self. Help me not to be one
any more."
But his pale, sorrowful little face smote his mother
to the heart. Her spirit rose in rebellion against the
Prost. Why should he come with this terrible and
mysterious accusation against her godly boy? She
lay awake long that night, thinking what was to be




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           273
done, and the next morning, as soon as Olaf had gone
to his work, she said to the grandmother:
"If you will take care of the little ones for me,
while I go to the village, I will spin for you as long
as you require."
" And what errand have you at the village, child?"
"The Prostinna is always kind; she will make me
understand what is evil in the boy; as for me, I see
no evil in him, and my heart is breaking."
"Yes, go, thou good child. And the dear Lord go
with thee! "
The Prostinna received Viola with great sympathy,
when she learned that she had come in sorrow; but
when she heard her artless tale, could with difficulty
repress peals of laughter.
"You do not understand the Prost, my poor child,"
she said, as she could trust herself to speak. "The
boy is a gifted boy; he will become a great man;
there is nothing to be alarmed about."
" But the Prost called me an unhappy mother," objected Viola.
"Yes, for when your son has won a name and riches,
and is abroad in the world, he will despise, nay, he
will forget you; you will see him no more."
"It is not true! " cried Viola, proudly.'" No, thank
God, it is not thus my boy will demean himself. And
how should having great gifts come between him and
salvation? Are not all grifts from the Lord?"
12*




274        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"They are; and it is their abuse, only, that makes
them perilous. Now let me advise you how to manage
the boy. Give him the best education you can; keep
him pure, and simple, and pious; and leave the rest
to God. He can take care of his future, and, if you
trust Him, He will."
Viola thanked the kind lady, and went home relieved, though after such a humiliation as that of the
previous day, not proud.
"Eric, my boy," she said to him, "if you trust in
God, and pray to Him every day, as long as you live,
it will not be an evil thing to be a genius. The
Pastorinna says that to be one means nothing evil,
but only that you have wings hidden away in your
shoulders that will grow and grow and grow till you are
a man, and then they will unfold and be two great,
white, strong pinions, that will carry you all over the
world, if you like; and that sounds to me like being an
archangel, such as we read about in the Bible."
The boy slipped his hand under his blouse, and felt
his shoulder.
"I think I feel a very, very little wing growing,"
he said. "But I sha'n't want to fly all over the world;
I shall fly up to heaven to see the dear Lord."
Viola's heart gave a great bound of pain.
"You would fly away from us who love you so?"
she cried.
" Only to see the dear Lord," said Eric, solemnly.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           275
Then an inward voice spake to Viola, and said:
"Better that than off into the wide, wicked world;
better that than name and fame and riches, and a
despised, forgotten mother! Even so, Father, if so
it seem good in Thy sight."
Laura stopped reading, folded her manuscript, and
looked shyly about her.
"Oh, Laura! you don't mean that you killed that
beautiful boy?" cried Belle.
"How could I help it?" asked Laura, the tears
running down her cheeks. "He would die! I tried
all I could to have him live, and so did his father and
mother, and all of them. But the wings grew and
grew, and he mounted upward, and passed through
the golden gate; but he left it ajar for Viola."
"Mamma, you'll have to look out," said Frank,
"Laura is catching up with you rather too fast."
"I like to keep step with those I walk with," she
replied, with a smile. "She may catch up, and welcome."
" I never did you any kind of justice, Laura," said
Belle.
" That was not your fault. How can one do justice to a butterfly, as long as it's an ugly chrysalis? "
"But, Laura, how could you have the heart to take
both Eric and Viola away from Olaf?" asked Margaret.




276         TIlE HIOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Poor Olaf, indeed! " cried Laura, "just as if men
never survived the loss of their wives. I have no
doubt that by the time the first year was out he trotted
down into Italy and married that pretty little Italian
girl who reminded him so of Viola, and who took
such a fancy to him."
"But she was a Romanist," objected Belle.
"So was Viola; yet he converted her. On the
whole, I think I sacrificed her in a proselyting
spirit."
"Well, what put Eric into your head? " asked Cyril Heath.
"What puts anything into anybody's head?" she
responded, saucily. "And when I had got him on
my hands, I didn't know what to do with him, and
his death was a mercy."
"I am going to have this story published," said
Harry. " I'm right proud of my wife."
"Suppose I put it into my book," said Mrs.
Grey.
"Would you, mamma?" cried Laura, eagerly.
"That would be splendid. How can you bring it
in? "
"Very easily. It is not so far off my track that it
will at all interfere with it."
"Well, Miss Oney," said Belle, "so you're an
authoress at last. But I don't envy you. I would




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          277
rather be the authoress of these babies, than of any
book I know."
"So would I," cried Margaret.
"So would I, you dear -old geese!" said Laura,
laughing. "But I have to put up with what comes
to me."




CHAPTER XXII.
" I WANT a bit of talk with you, Frank," Mrs. Grey
took an opportunity to whisper on the way to the
dinner-table.
"All right," he replied.  "Shall it be in the
library, after the rest have gone to bed? Or right
after dinner, in your dressing-room? "
"Right after dinner," she replied; and as soon
as the meal was over, they disappeared.
"Now for my curtain-lecture," he said, as they
seated themselves by the fire.
"I want to speak a word for your poor Lily," she
said. " You began by loving her extravagantly, and
educated her into expecting this sort of thing could
last; now you are transferring your attentions to
Gabrielle, in a way that must hurt your wife."
" Gabrielle has grown charming," he replied, " and
it is delightful to have her again."
"That may be; but you may depend upon it, I understand my sex better than you do, and that no
woman wants to see a girl put into the place once
hers, even though the girl is her own child."
(278)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           279
" Lily never complains of it."
" No; but she droops under it."
"I don't like the idea of her being jealous of
Gabrielle."
"That's not the way to put it. It is not jealousy.
You lavish on Gabrielle, by the hour together,
caresses you used to lavish on Lily, and she would
have to be made of stone not to feel it. You must
bear with me, my son, when I say that I don't like it.
Whatever defects you may find in her, you cannot
undo the past. You fell desperately in love with her,
and married her; now you owe it to her to keep up
that affection."
" Our affections are not under our control."
" True; but they are under God's control, and He
can make all right between you twain."
"It never crossed my mind to ask Him to do that.
But, mammy dear, who says I am alienated from
Lily? Loving Gabrielle does not involve indifference
to my wife."
" You ask who says it? I say it, and say it with
pain. I did hope to see my sons loyal to the wives
they themselves chose, however they might be
disappointed in them. Lily has never wilfully annoyed you, and she gives you all the affection she
is capable of giving, and wants yours in return."
Frank sat thoughtfully looking into the fire, and at
the same time searching his own heart. At last he
said:




280        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" I thank my dear mother for her timely faithful.
ness. I see now that I must have wounded Lily in
many ways. I shall ask her pardon, and start afresh.
She little knows her indebtedness to you."
" What's going on here; secrets?" said Fred, who
had knocked and been admitted.
" I have had my dressing, and now you may come
and have yours," said Frank, rising.
"There's hardly a chance to get in a word edgewise, when Frank is at home," said Fred, taking
possession of the seat he had vacated. "And I'm
sure he doesn't love and admire you more than
I do. I want to tell you, as I could not in a letter,
what a happy family you have made of us. We took
all your lessons to heart, and the improvement in
Kitty is marvelous.  She is a very interesting little
creature, and a great amusement to us. Hatty keeps
a journal, and records all her bright speeches."
"I am glad of that. You must let me see it.
Every mother ought to keep one, if she can."
"Did you keep one about me?"
"No. You never said anything bright enough.
It wasn't your forte to make smart speeches.  Frank
and Belle made enough to cover anything wanting in
the rest of you. Tell me all about the baby now.
Do you know Hatty has never written me once since
it was born, and that all I know of it is that it
is a boy?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           281
"Is that so? Why, I took it for granted Hatty
had written. Well, he's a magnificent fellow, exactly
like me."
"Shall I ever get the conceit out of you, you foolish boy?" she said, looking up at him with loving
eyes.
"Yes, a magnificent fellow! Almost as big as
Kitty, but not at all like her. He has a thick head
of hair, dark eyes, and the prettiest little dumpling of
a chin, with a dent in it. Kitty nearly eats him up.
He's a good-natured chap, too, always laughing
and crowing, and kicking up his heels. I tell you
what, mother, it's great fun to have a dear little wife
and two splendid children. Hatty says she means to
have ten."
" I don't see but I shall have to add a large wing
to this house if that is the case," she said, much
amused and pleased.
"But they must all be getting together in the
library, and we had better join them."
"Yes, I suppose so. What were you and Cyril
talking about at dinner? I only caught a word
or two."
"Oh, I was consulting him on a series of articles I
was requested to write for a magazine."
" Didn't I hear something about editing one?"
"I dare say. That was one out of dozens of similar propositions."




282        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"They keep you as busy as ever, it seems. And
Laura is following in your footsteps. Wasn't it a
little tall in her to read her own story, though? "
" No; there's nothing tall about her. She's just as
fresh and unspoiled as a rose-bud."
" I'm glad you think so. I can't bear to think of
either of the girls as being like the common feminine
run."
They descended to the library, and found them all
prepared to play some game of wits, with pencil and
paper.
"Oh, here come mamma and Fred," said Belle,
gaily, "and they are two of the brightest at this game.
Where are the pencils? I have no pencil."
" I bought a box last Christmas," said Frank. " Surely they can't all be gone."
"Oh, I'll get them," said Margaret. "I remember
putting them in one of the drawers in the library table. Yes, here they are. But they need sharpening."
Thereupon, out came half a dozen penknives, and
the gentlemen prepared the pencils with great zeal.
They were all, from Mrs. Grey down to Gabrielle,
fond of these innocent little games, and some of the
inspiration of the moment was so bright that Laura
provided herself with a blank-book, and took copies
of them, that years later were read, with great applause, at one of the Christmas gatherings.
"I want Belle to hold a Bible-reading some evening," said Cyril Heath.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           283
"Oh, I couldn't," cried Belle, shrinking back.
"What's a Bible-reading? " asked Frank, interested
at once.
"Belle has learned the English system, and holds
two every week; one on Sunday afternoon for myself
and the children and servants; one for a company of
from twenty to thirty ladies; both in our own house;
and they are delightful. I believe that if they were
held all over the land, our country would be revolutionized. I never enjoyed the study of the Bible as
I have since we began it in this way. The children
enjoy it, too."
"Let us have one to-morrow evening, by all means,"
said Frank. "And that will be something you can
join in, Lily," he said, turning kindly to his wife;
"you who dislike games so."
Lily felt the unaccustomed tones, and gave a grateful look.
After they went to their room that night, Belle said
to her husband:
" How could you propose my holding a Bible-reading with all those men? "
" Because I think you do it so nicely. Still, if you
prefer it, I will conduct it as long as the boys are at
home. After they go I hope you will take it."
The next evening they all gathered around the library-table, each with a Bible in hand. Old Mary came,
with her spectacles, very curious to know what was to
be done.




284        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Mr. Heath chose the sixty-third Psalm, and called
upon Frank, Jr., who sat next him, to read the first
verse. But Frank had not found his place, and Gabrielle read for him.
"Now, in the ideal Bible-reading," said Mr. Heath,
"the reader makes a remark, or asks a question."
"I should like to ask, then, why David and others
put the word'my' before the name of God, so
often?"
"I think there are two reasons. In those days a
large number of gods were worshipped, and it was
natural enough for men to distinguish between them
through the possessive case. Besides, the old saints
all had assurance of faith. They not only loved God,
but they knew they loved Him."
"The moment we put the possessive case before
a thing, it assumes a new interest for us," said Belle.
" In prayer we say'my' and'our,' and I don't know
that it would not be more reverent if we did it in
conversation. Some people have a flippant way, or
what seems like it, of saying,' I told the Lord thus
and so, and He said so and so.' Wouldn't it sound
less familiar if they put it'my Lord'?"
"Perhaps so," said Mrs. Grey. "At any rate we
must have assurance of faith, if we are to grow in
grace."
"Why must we, grandmamma?" asked Gabrielle.
"Because, if we keep digging up our seeds to see




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           285
if they've sprouted, or how many roots they have,
we are in danger of destroying what vitality they
have."
The children all looked at each other with conscious
smiles.
"I lost all my beans that way," said Frank, Jr.
"Shall I read the next verse, uncle?"
" Oh, no, we have only touched a corner of the first
one yet."
As it turned out, this one verse served them for
study an hour; an hour enjoyed by the children as
well as the elder ones; and all who engaged in this
exercise for the first time, were delighted with it.
Mrs. Grey resolved to start a reading among her
neighbors; Laura said she should do the same for
hers; Margaret wondered if she could get courage
to hold one with half a dozen young girls of her
acquaintance, and found she could.
Meanwhile; Mrs. Grey received a note from Mrs.
Grosgrain, imploring her to come to her as soon as
possible next morning.
" How fortunate that I have kept up the acquaintance," she said, running over the note. "Now comes
a chance to do them good."
"Grandmamma," said Gabrielle, "you are not going
to see those kind of people, and leave us, when we are
having such nice times together?"
"That kind of people, not those kind. And of
course I am going, for they are in trouble."




286        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
" It's too bad. Everybody thinks you are made to
look after them. And I was in hopes you would
finish reading that German story to me."
"I suppose you don't include yourself among the'everybody'?" said Frank, laughing.
"But, papa, we had just got to the most exciting
part."
"I'll read the rest of it," said Margaret.
"You'll want to be painting."
"No; I don't paint in the holidays."
"Oh, no, you don't."
"I wonder if mamma ever thinks of herself one
minute at a time," said Belle, as her mother retired
to make preparations for the early expedition of the
morrow. "It is a real sacrifice to her to lose a whole
day of our visit; but she has trotted off to get ready,
like a girl. And she'll be thrown away on those Grosgrains."
"Yes, just thrown away," repeated Laura. "I
wonder she doesn't see it."
" I dare say one of them has put her thumb out of
joint," said Margaret, feeling like anything but an
angel towards the Grosgrains. "To think of leaving
all of you to go to see such people. However, I don't
know that it's any stranger than the way she lets herself be interrupted when she is writing."
"Writing isn't her profession, you know," said
Belle. "It never was. She used to write as long ago




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           287
as when we were babies, and yet did not neglect
uS."'
"I am doing the same," said Laura. " I mean to
go on writing, but Pug and Trot won't suffer from
it. Of course scribbling is a mere recreation. My
profession is to be a good wife and mother, as I
am sure mamma's was. As to you, Margaret, you
are a genius, and must make up your mind never to
marry."
"Thank you," said Margaret, dryly.
"Why, you don't mean to say that it isn't enough
to be an artist!" cried Laura, a little dubious as to
what the dry tone meant.
"If by being an artist I have got to kill off my
heart, and live for fame, then an artist I won't be,"
returned Margaret. "I am in no hurry to be married; and if I decide to be an old maid, it won't be
without children, I can tell you."
"And where do you expect to get them?"
" By begging, borrowing, buying, or stealing them,"
said Margaret, her good humor returning at the
thought.
"What, and bring them  here to live?" asked
Gabrielle.
"No, indeed. I must earn a home of my own
first."
"Papa says you will make a great name for yourself," pursued Gabrielle.




288        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"What do I want of a great name?" cried Margaret. "It is the very last thing in the world a woman
ought to seek."
"So I think," said Belle.
"But suppose she gets it without seeking? " asked
Laura.
"Look here, Laura," said Margaret, springing up,
"'let me feel if you have a pair of wings sprouting.
It is my private opinion that you have, and that it is
you, not I, who is to be famous. And how stupid I
was, the first time I saw you, to fancy you justjust- "
" A goosey-gander? Yes, I was perfectly delighted
to see how you measured me after the first ridiculous
talk we had together."
"I don't think it's nice to belie one's self as you
do, Laura," said Belle. "Even your own mother
never knew you till this story of yours opened her
eyes."
Laura shrugged her shoulders.
"I shouldn't care to be so shallow that people
could read me at a glance," she said.
"One is not necessarily shallow because transparent," said Belle.
"Margaret, how nearly done is mamma's book?"
asked Laura.
" So nearly that I think I hear it ringing the doorbell now. I saw an expressman just drive up. Yes,
here comes the parcel. Might we open it, think?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           289
Laura replied by cutting the cord and throwing it
upon the floor, whence Belle picked it up and wound
it around her fingers, and put it away in her mother's
string-box.
" How beautifully it is got up," said Laura. "But
why wasn't it out at Christmas?"
"Aunty thought it would be," said Margaret, "but
there was unexpected delay. Oh, are you each going
to read it to yourselves? " she added, in a disappointed
tone, as she saw each take possession of a volume.
"I thought we should read it aloud. Aunty, your
books have come," she cried, as Mrs. Grey here
entered the room.
"Indeed?  Just in time for me to take one to
Mrs. Grosgrain."
"Pooh! Always Grosgrain!" thought Margaret;
but took one of the volumes and folded it carefully
in a fresh sheet of paper, and placed it on the librarytable, and the next morning reminded Mrs. Grey to
take it with her.
I3




CHAPTER XXIII.
MRS. GREY proceeded on her way, on a bitterly
cold day, when so much ice had formed in the harbor
that crossing the ferry occupied hours instead of
minutes. Foreseeing that return before the morrow
would be impossible, she sent a dispatch home to
that effect, and at last, weary and benumbed, presented herself to the Grosgrains.
She found them too absorbed in tribulation to
concern themselves about her condition, and all
talked together with briny tears, telling an incoherent
story, out of which she at last got at these facts:
A young man, to whom Miss Grosgrain had engaged herself on board the steamer that brought
them from  England, had so won their confidence
that they were gradually led to put their entire
business affairs into his hands. He conducted them,
for a time, so well that they congratulated themselves
that their fortune had ceased to be a care to them.
Recently he had received letters from his mother
summoning him to take possession of a large propk29o)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           291
erty, to which he had become heir through his
father's death, and had urged to have the marriage
celebrated at once, and that they should all accompany the happy pair to Europe, there to live in
almost regal splendor. Charmed with the prospect,
they sold their palatial residence, their horses, plate,
furniture, and prepared for a grand flight. But when
all was in trim, one little item disappeared-namely,
the foreign lover-who forgot to refund the sums in
his hands, the result of the sale, and had also contrived to possess himself of their whole fortune.
Whither he had disappeared they failed to learn;
and here they were, huddled together in a house
no longer theirs, as miserable a group as one need
to see.
Why had they sent for Mrs. Grey in particular?
Well, with a vague hope that she would help them
in some way; she had the reputation of being everybody's right hand. And she had come to help them,
and listened with real sympathy to their story.
"Have you done everything that can be done to
arrest the fugitive?" she asked.
"Yes; he has fled to some country where he will
be safe, and live in luxury while we starve here."
"You have your jewels left; they will carry you
along till you have time to bethink yourselves what
to do next."
"Oh!" groaned Miss Grosgrain, "our jewels are




292        THE HOME AT GRELYOCK.
gone too. Our seamstress, Jane, whom we trusted
as we did each other, disappeared at the same time
with —with that wretch, whose name I never will
speak as long as I live-and took almost all our valuables with her. No doubt she was his accomplice,
and has left the country with him."
" It will be necessary, then, to seek remunerative
employment," Mrs. Grey said, as cheerfully as she
could; " now let me see what gifts you have."
"Employment!" shrieked the girls.  "What a
disgrace!"
"Why call it disgrace, when thousands of women
are engaged in it? Refined and well-educated women, too."
"So I tell the girls," said Mrs. Grosgrain. "If we
setstill and do nothing, we shall starve."
The quartette was too full of dismay to correct
the maternal grammar, and listened in gloomy silence.
" We never had to work for our living," pursued
Mrs. Grosgrain, " but the girls' marmer had to, and
she was a master-hand at tailoring. And they've all
took after her. Mary can make as handsome a bonnet as any milliner, and so can Flora; and the others
can cut and fit beautifully."' But there was a deal of money spent on your
education," said Mrs. Grey, turning to the young
ladies; " could you not open a school? "
She knew they could not, but thought it best to
make them face the situation for themselves.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           293
"They never took to their books," said Mrs. Grosgrain. "And they never thought to come to this.
But they're all handy, like their marmer."
"Then the hands must come to the rescue," said
Mrs. Grey, looking brightly into the sad faces around
her.
"What a disgrace!" cried Miss Grosgrain. "We
who were born to so much better things!"
" I: think we were all born to the lot in which we
find ourselves," said Mrs. Grey, kindly. "Poverty is
no disgrace, nor is work; I would rather see one of
my daughters employed as a housemaid, than living
a life of ease and luxury and pleasure. In the one
case I should hope to see her forming a useful character; in the other I should expect to see her a mere
cumberer of the ground. Now, you have asked me
to advise you, and I will try to do it. Have you any
friends who will aid you until you begin to support
yourselves?"
They shook their heads mournfully. Their money
had plenty of friends; personally, they had none.
"We have to leave this house in a week," said
Mrs. Grosgrain. "The party that owns it is going to
pull it all to pieces."
"I would as lief die, as to work for my living?"
cried Miss Grosgrain.
"Providence has not given' you the choice," said
Mrs. Grey, gravely. "And all that looks so distress



294        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
ing now, may, through Him, become a benediction."
" I had a little money hid away," said Mrs. Grosgrain, brightening up.  "I always mistrusted that
our luck wouldn't always last, and now and then I
hid gold pieces away. But my memory has failed of
late years, and I don't remember exactly where I put
it.'Twa'n't all in one place, and when we sold out I
forgot all about it. If we could stay in the house
~Ing enough, I guess I could find some of it."
" To whom did you sell out?"
"To James J. Sheldon."
"Ah! He is a friend of mine. I can easily persuade him to allow you to stay. He could do nothing to the house in this cold weather."
" Still, it isn't likely if we find the money that it
will amount to anything; and, for my part, I wish I
was dead."
Hereupon ensued fresh bursts of tears all around.
" My dear," asked Mrs. Grey, seriously, "where
should you be if you were dead? "
" I could not be worse off than I am now," was the
sullen answer.
"You must excuse the way she talks," said Mrs.
Grosgrain. "She never had no trouble before, and
it sets her ag'inst everything. I'm older, and don't
feel so bad. If it wasn't for seeing the girls so full
of trouble, I should say I hadn't felt so comfortable
these twenty year."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           295'
Poor Mrs. Grosgrain, do you know the reason?
You have been snubbed more than "twenty year"
by these four young women, and now they let you
alone, and you are jogging on in such English as you
please; and what a relief it is! Take an old hat,
and the more you brush it, the worse it looks. No
amount of labor could make a real lady out of one
whose instincts were not refined. It was not going
to be the hardship to her to descend to what she
sprang from, as to these girls who had never been
there with her. To make a long story short, however, Mrs. Grey never rested till she had found employment for them all. At first their pride fell flat,
and they struggled against their fate in a way that
put all her energy to the test; but contact with her
strong and steadfast nature at last told upon them
all. In the strictest sense of the word, she rescued
them from the ruin to which prosperity was leading
them; or, rather, she fell in with the Providential
plan for their rescue, and helped carry it out.
Now, why all this self-sacrifice and labor for five
ill-bred, ill-tempered women, with whom she had not
five thoughts in common?
Well, she saw in them now what she always had
seen-human beings to be saved or to be lost; she
had kept up an acquaintance with them for years, on
the mere chance of sometime finding an entrance to
their souls; and she found it "after many days."




296        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Even most of her children did not understand this;
they loved and respected her too much to call her
Quixotic, yet fancied such people as the Grosgrains
unworthy so much long patience, such journeys to
and fro, such letters, such lines upon line. But they
could have found ample explanation for all she did in
the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew. The fact is, the
Grosgrains err in their way; but we err in ours when
we draw our sanctified garments about us and pass
by on the other side. An eagle may have a more
ruinous fall than a butterfly, because he flies higher.
Meanwhile, there fell a shadow upon Greylock, and
everybody in it. Belle's devoted little lover, Margaret's little pearl, fell sick. Only the mother observed
the change in her at first, it was so nearly imperceptible; but as time passed, all had to own that there
was a mysterious change, with no marked symptom
of disease, except increasing silence and lassitude.
Everybody's virtue came to the front now. They
told her stories, they sang to her, her father and uncles
walked the floor with her by the hour together when
a strange restlessness was soothed by it. The elder
children moved about the house on tiptoe; the younger ones, not quite up to the situation, but impressed
by it, whispered to each other that they would play
the " softest plays " they knew. The physician, early
called in, was puzzled and helpless. Yet all were full
of hope save Mrs. Grey and Belle. They did not tell




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           297
each other what they feared, yet each saw it in each
other's eyes. As the little creature became increasingly nervous and sensitive to noise, it was obvious
that the household must be reduced in numbers, and,
very reluctantly, most of them departed for their own
homes.
Margaret's inexperience with children kept her long
free from grave anxiety. There were days when Mabel would brighten and become as animated as ever;
a new toy would give her pleasure, and she would
take it to bed with her. Such days encouraged her
inordinately.
" How strange it is that the doctor does not give
her a tonic, when he sees how weak she is! " she kept
saying.'" Nothing ails her but want of strength."
She and Belle divided the nursing between them,
and the one was as tender and devoted as the other,
with this difference: Margaret was full of hope, and
Belle full of misgivings.
" Where are you sick, my darling?" she asked, again
and again, and the plaintive, weary little voice invariably answered: "Nowhere; only so tired, so tired."
"Cyril, I can't bear this suspense any longer," Belle
said, at last. "As soon as I know what God wants
of me, He shall have it, if it breaks my heart. You
must make the doctor tell what he thinks."
"He seems completely puzzled," was the reply.
"But I will ask him; and if it would be any relief to
you, request a consultation."       13i




298        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"It would be a great relief. Cyril, Mabel is very
ill."
" My dear, you exaggerate the matter. I have seen
any number of sicker children, and known them to get
well. I don't see, as Margaret says, why no tonic is
given her."
"You will find out, if the doctor is frank with you.
If my fears are well founded I know the reason."
"I did not know you had any definite fear."
" I have; and so has mamma, though she has not
said so. We think there is some insidious disease on
the brain."
" The brain! " he repeated. " Oh, Belle, what would
you do without your devoted little worshipper?"
"What every one does who believes in Christ,"
said Belle, bursting into tears.
" Yes; you would give her to Him without a word,"
he said, earnestly, almost reverently; for while he
loved his wife for her own sake and for her love to
himself, he loved her far more for her whole-souled
devotion to Christ.
He went out now to find the doctor and to propose
a consultation.
The doctor caught at the suggestion eagerly.
"The case is an obscure one," he said. "The
child's debility is very great, but I find no explanation of it unless there is some insidious disease upon
the brain."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           299
"So her mother thinks."
"Indeed? I am surprised at that. Yet I ought
not to be surprised either, after knowing her all her
life. She has her mother's quick intuitions. Well, I
will arrange about the consultation, immediately."
"Could not I do that?"
"Why, yes, I will give you the address of the physician I call in for children. You will find him at his
office to-morrow morning, at ten."
Mr. Heath was thankful to go. Men are generally
as out of place in sick-rooms as steam engines; twenty times he had banged the door and made Mabel cry
out, and Belle had shuddered again and again, at the
sound of his newspaper, which he could have read
just as well in the library.
The *word " consultation " sent a chill to Margaret's
heart. She rushed away to her own room, locked the
door, threw herself on her face across the bed, and
cried with that bitter, heart-breaking cry which had
won the love and sympathy in which she had been
revelling.
" God wouldn't do such a dreadful thing!" she at
last said to herself. "Never was a child adored as
Mabel is. There is not one among them all, half so
sweet. Why should He take her? He won't! I
know He won't! What a fool I am for crying so!
And there is aunty slaving over the twins!"
She flew to the washstand and tried to remove the




300        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
traces of her tears; then hurried to the nursery, where
she found both babies fretting dismally, and Mrs.
Grey doing her best to comfort them.
"I have been dreadfully selfish, aunty," she said,
taking one of the twins from her. "I must have a
very contracted mind, for it can only hold one thing
at a time. I am as brimful of Mabel as a nest is full
of birds."
"It isn't so much a contracted mind, as an exaggerating heart," was the reply. " You magnify every
one you love, and every pursuit you engage in."
The nurses, who had been having their breakfasts,
came now to the nursery, and Margaret drew Mrs.
Grey away, to see if she could find comfort in her.
"God wouldn't do such a thing as to take away
Mabel, would He, aunty?"
" I used to think He couZd not do these agonizing
things; but He can, He does, and He knows why I
have trembled for Belle when I have seen that steadfast little lover of hers follow her as the needle does
the pole. It is Maud and her mother over againonly-"
She broke down now, but only for a moment, and
asked Margaret's pardon as meekly as a child.
"Is it wrong, then, to cry? " asked Margaret, bewildered.
"It depends on the time and place, and how old
one is. I don't think people of my age ought to in



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            301'
dulge themselves by giving way to grief in which the
spectator cannot share.
"' Bury thy sorrow, let others be blest,
Give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest.'"
It was now Margaret's turn to feel humbled.
" How could I forget, even for a moment, how you
had been afflicted?" she cried, passionately. "But
you are so strong, and so patient, and so cheerful,
and hide your scars away so carefully, that it is hard
to realize that you-ever had a sorrow. But, aunty,
what will Belle do if she loses Mabel?"
"'She will behave and quiet herself as a child
weaned of his mother.'"
Just then the door opened, and Mabel came quietly
in. Both were startled, for she rarely moved about
the house now. She saw that they had been crying,
and came and put an arm around each.
"What makes everybody cry?" she asked.  "Is
anybody dead?"
Even Margaret was astonished at the sunny smile
with which Mrs. Grey instantly diverted the child's
attention.
"See," she said, opening a drawer, "what I forgot
to give you at Christmas."
Mabel looked in and saw a snow-white dove nestled
there.
"Oh!" she said, " when I get well I will dance for




302        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
joy! Grandmamma, I am not so tired to-day as I was
yesterday. May I hold my baby a little while and
show him this lovely dove?"
"You may try, darling."
They carried her up to the nursery and put the
baby in her arms, but she could not hold him, and
burst into tears. They were the last she ever shed.
The doctors came in the course of the day, and examined her from head to foot carefully.
" Does your head ache even a little? " they asked.
" No."
"Where are you sick, then?  Put your hand on
the place, dear."
"There isn't any place."
" How are her nights?"
" Very restless," said Belle, whose eye was reading
every thought of the physicians, as if the faces they
fancied so well-trained were open books. " She talks
and moans in her sleep, and sometimes has painful
dreams."
Mabel, nearly as keen as her mother, though in a
different way, detected a tender, almost mournful
glance between her physicians, at this answer, and
reached out a little hand to each. They had to fight
to keep back the tears, as their fingers closed over
her wasted ones. All her life the child had had these
touching ways which it is not possible to describe;
one of the secrets of the peculiar way in which she
attracted every one.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           303
After a few more questions the physicians withdrew, promising to return on the following day. Mr.
Heath followed them, but learned nothing definite.
Mabel had a dreadful night; all the symptoms of
water on the brain, hitherto wanting, came on with
great force. How they lived through the next harrowing two weeks they hardly knew. Many whom
Mrs. Grey had blessed in similar scenes, came now,
full of tender sympathy to help support them through
the fortnight in which the patient little lamb died
daily, so distressing was her exhaustion. They were
prayed for by hundreds some of them had never seen;
and their faith failed not.
For a week the bright eyes remained open, and there
was no sleep. They had ceased asking for her life,
but prayed for the mercy of rest.
And at last it came, and the weary eyes were
closed. They knelt around the bed and gave thanks.
Then came one of those quick decisions o.n Margaret's part, that dotted her whole life as with stars.
She put off her tears, went quietly to her room, and
on a wide white ribbon, with teeth set hard together,
began to paint. So, when Belle went to take her
parting look at her darling before the funeral, there
lay upon the coffin, within the ribbon, delicate flowers and green sprays, with the words:
"Now I lay me down to sleep."
It was an inexpressible comfort; and Margaret was




304        TIlE HIOME AT GREYLOCK.
rewarded by the most loving embrace she had known
for years.
"You are entering on mamma's mission of sympathizer very early," said Belle. " God bless you for
it. After this you will be associated with every
thought of my darling."
"I think God has special love for those He takes
so early," said Mrs. Grey. " Dear little Mabel's character was unusually lovely, and now it will never be
anything else."
Belle struggled to speak, but could not. At last
she said:
" I cut this epitaph from a newspaper when quite a
young girl. How little I then thought how it would
come home to me!
"'Oh!' said the gardener, as he passed down the
garden-walk,' who plucked that flower? Who gathered that plant?' His fellow-servant answered,'THE
MASTER!' and the gardener held his peace.'"




CHAPTER XXIV.
MRS. GREY went home with the sorrowing family,
taking Margaret with her, but leaving Gabrielle and
the two boys at Greylock. They were too inexperienced to understand that a sublime joy is perfectly
consistent with deep grief, and shrank from witnessing pain they believed to be without alleviation. The
thought of a funeral was very repugnant to them, as
was everything connected with the subject of death.
They had yet to learn how Christ has conquered that
last enemy, and how the soul may be cast down, yet
always rejoicing.
It is hard to lay away in the grave a form we have
loved, on a smiling, sunny day, under the green grass;
but to put it under the snows of winter is harder
still. It needs faith and patience of no common sort
to tear the nursling from the breast, and leave it out
in the cold. But neither Mrs. Grey's nor Belle's was
of the common sort, and in the midst of their tears
they could look away from the grave and see the
"folded lamb" in green pastures and beside still
waters, never so full of life as now.
(305)




306        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Loving letters came to Belle from every member
of the family, which were a great comfort to her;
many precious and comforting books were sent her
which she was willing to let do their mission to her
soul. But the constant, sympathizing presence of
Christ was her chief solace. It has been truly said
that the best cure for sorrow is an increased, personal
love for Him; Mrs. Grey learned this secret long ago,
but Belle first learned it now.
Margaret had not their consolations. Every thought
of Mabel lacerated her, and her health began to suffer.
" Poor child, it is her nature to take life hard," said
Mrs. Grey to Belle, " and her love for Mabel was a
passion."
" Everything is a passion with her," Belle replied.
" If you had not adopted her and toned her down,
and she had been left uneducated and unrestrained,
she would have rushed headlong to destruction."
" I do not feel sure how she will come out in the
end," said Mrs. Grey. "If anything happens to me
I shall want you to look after her."
"Anything happen to you, mamma? " cried Belle;
"do you think anything is going to happen? Why,
it isn't living not to have a mother."
"In the nature of things you ought to outlive me,
my child. And it is well to familiarize yourself to
the thought."
Belle's eyes filled with tears.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          307
" You know what Mabel's death has cost me," she
said, " but it is nothing to what yours would."
" Well, my dear," said Mrs. Grey, trying to smile
away this almost reproachful tone, " I do not expect
to die at present, and may live to be a trial to you
all. I hope not, though. I should like to live as
long as I can work for Christ; not longer, nevertheless not my will."
"Nor mine! " said Belle. "I spoke in a cowardly
moment, dreading any more suffering. It was mostungrateful after all God's goodness to me."
Margaret now came in with a photograph of Mabel she had been coloring.
"Oh, this is a great improvement!" cried Belle.
" Thank you, ever so much."
"What a mercy that you had it taken so recently!'
said Mrs. Grey.
"Yes; there has been nothing but goodness and
mercy from beginning to end."
Poor Margaret could not see it, and her face showed
that she could not.
" Things that look like unmitigated evils now will
appear differently as you advance into life. You are
only on the outskirts now," said Mrs. Grey, kindly.
"Belle, my dear, let Margaret read your Mabeljournal."
Belle rose and brought the book. It had been kept
from the day of the child's birth till that of her death.




308        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Margaret took it to her room and read it eagerly,
and amid a rain of tears. Even she had not realized
what a lovely character the little one possessed, and
every little detail interested her.
"This book ought to be published!" she said, as
she returned it.
"It would not touch the public as it does you,"
replied Belle.
" It would touch anybody who had a heart," said
Mrs. Grey.
Belle caught it nervously, and locked it up. Mrs.
Grey smiled, and said she never meant to urge its
publication.
At the end of a fortnight she and Margaret returned
to Greylock, sent the boys back to Mr. Heath, and
everything went on as usual till spring; Mrs. Grey
going hither and thither on all sorts of Christian
work; Margaret eagerly engaged in painting a portrait of Mabel, partly from a photograph, partly from
memory, and busy with her studies also. And now a
long-promised visit to Laura was to be made as soon
as Gabrielle's vacation should begin, when she was
to go home for a visit.
Laura lived on the beautiful banks of the Hudsbn,
and so near to the city that her husband could attend
to his business there, and go home every afternoon.
Since Mrs. Grey had been there, they had built a new
house, and Laura was full of delight in the prospect




THE: HOME AT  GREYLOCK.         309
of exhibiting it to her mother and Margaret. She
charged the latter to bring her painting-materials, so
as to make sketches of some of the fine views in the
neighborhood.
"I don't know about that," said Margaret. "I
doubt if I ought to do anything of that sort till
Mabel's portrait is done. That will be such a delightful surprise to Belle."
" On the other hand, it would be running some risk
to take it with you," Mrs. Grey replied.
" Do you mean from the children?"
"Not exactly. I don't know what I do mean. I
only know that I have an impression that it is best
to leave it at home. You have put a great deal of
work in it, and it would take months to replace it."
"I don't think I could forgive Pug and Trot if
they bedaubed this as they did the only other large
picture I ever took. I'll leave it."
On a beautiful afternoon in June they met Harry
on the steamboat, on their way to his home. He
was in splendid health and spirits, and seemed delighted at the prospect of their visit. They sat upon
deck, read a little, looked at the blue sky and green
banks, and talked when they felt like it.
"We shall soon be there," Harry said, at last.
"You'll get a glimpse of the house as we skirt this
island. Hollo! what's that?" he cried, starting to
his feet and running forward.




310        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"It's fire!" said Margaret, putting out her hand
for Mrs. Grey's.
"We are near the shore; there is no danger," said
Mrs. Grey.
"Why doesn't Harry come back?" asked Margaret. " He ought not to expose himself for Laura's
sake. Oh, aunty, see how the flames are rushing
between us and him!"
There was great rushing to and fro, the flames
spread rapidly; orders were given in a loud voice,
above which could be heard the cries of the terrified
passengers.
An attempt was made to make for the shore, but
the steamer ran aground. Harry made his way
through the flames and came to them now, hardly
looking like a human being. His hair was singed,
his face black and grimy, and at first they did not
recognize him or his voice, as he said, hoarsely:
" There isn't a moment to lose! Jump overboard,
both of you! I'm a good swimmer; I can save
you!"
" I have a son on board!" replied Mrs. Grey. " I
cannot seek my own safety till I am sure of his!
But if you will kindly take charge of this young
lady-"
" Don't you know me, mother?" cried Harry, impatiently.  "I tell you there's not a moment to
lose! "




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           3I I
The two women kissed each other.
"Good-bye, darling, darling aunty, if he doesn't
save us!;'
"Good-bye, my precious child! Good-bye, Harry!
Tell Laura-"
He almost pushed them into the water, jumped in
himself, bade them hold him fast, and began to strike
out for the shore. The distance was greater than he
supposed, and his strength began to fail; what should
he do? which life should he sacrifice?  Margaret's,
of course, not that of Laura's mother. But Margaret
was so young, it was dreadful to die young; and Mrs.
Grey at best could not live many years. The conflict was painful, and so was every stroke of his arms.
Neither should die, if it killed him! One more heroic
stroke and we are there! No, a wave has beaten us
back!
With a groan of anguish he cried, " I cannot save
you both! One of you must loose your hold! Which
shall it be?"
"Not aunty!" said Margaret, instantly loosing
her grasp.
" Not Margaret!" said Mrs. Grey, as instantly relinquishing hers.
Harry uttered a cry of horror, and watched to see
them rise; but his over-taxed frame had made its
last frantic effort; he felt himself going down, down;
there was a faint thought of Laura, waiting for him in




3JI2       THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
her white dress, a faint sense of God waiting for
him too, and then he knew no more, till he awoke,
and found it was all a dream; Laura was there, very
pale, but smiling; the doctor was there, and many
others.
"He's all right now," said the doctor, "and as soon
as I've set this arm you may take him home."
For reply, Laura, waking also as from a dream,
cried, " Where is mamma? Where is Margaret?"
" I did my best," Harry said, faintly. "This arm
was broken before we took to the water."
"You don't mean to tell me that you let my
mother drown?" Laura hissed in his ear.
"Indeed, madam, my patient is in no state to be
excited," said the doctor. " Rejoice that Providence
has given you back your husband, and only taken
your mother."
"Only taken!" repeated Laura, almost beside herself. "Only taken my mother! Why, she was one
of ten thousand! She was everybody's mother!
And Margaret! That noble girl! And I am to rejoice, am I!"
"There will be little to rejoice over if you go on
in this way, madam,"' said the doctor, pointing to
Harry, who had again become insensible.
This silenced her, and she spoke no more, but
almost the coldness of death steeled her heart to her
husband. She did not realize the self-possession he




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          3113
had displayed, the difficulties in his way; she did not
know that if the women she lamented had been less
heroic one of them might have been saved; all she
knew was, they lay dead in the embrace of the river
she had once thought beautiful.
"What news for poor Belle! What a shock to
Frank! What consternation among mother's friends! "
she thought, and tried to cry, but not a tear would
come.
Slowly, when Harry came to himself, and his arm
had been set, they drove home. There was the
table, set for tea; there was mother's chair; there
was the plate of strawberries, and the vase of flowers
she had gathered with such delight. She went to
the window and threw them out; who cared for fruit
and flowers now?
Meanwhile, Harry had been taken up-stairs, and
laid upon a couch, falling asleep the moment his head
touched the pillow. She went and looked at him,
and saw how the fire had singed his hair, how deathlike he looked; how blistered were his hands. "But
he let my mother drown," she thought.
All night she sat by him, and when he woke and
needed attention, she gave it; but that was all. She
gave no kiss, no caress, no loving word, but steeled
herself with the thought, " He let my mother drown."
Harry was so exhausted that he did not notice this
at first; when he did, he was disappointed and grieved,
14




314        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
but not surprised. His conscience was clear, and he
knew that as soon as he had strength to tell his story,
Laura would see her injustice. Then he fell asleep
again, and again woke and saw her sitting there, pale,
and silent, and stony. He thought she had sat there
a week; wondered if she would speak to him again;
if she ever ate, or drank, or moved; and then, feeble
as a child, he slept again.




CHAPTER XXV.
IT was only one night and part of a day after all,
and if Laura neither slept or ate during that time, it
was because she had too much else to think of and to
do. Vigorous measures must be taken to recover the
bodies; that was the first thing. Then to get into
communication with her brothers. They would see
the news in the daily papers, but that would not be
like authentic intelligence from herself. Frank would
come to her immediately; she-was sure of that; later,
if-she could not trust herself even to think there
could be an if-they would all be together at Greylock.
Dear old Greylock! With mamma and Margaret gone
what a mockery it would be!
Messages kept coming in from those who were at
work at the scene of the disaster, but they all told of defeat. And so, too, did the constant booming of cannon. In this agony of suspense, she was thankful to
have neighboring friends gather around her. She
clung to them as the drowning cling to the arm that
is trying to rescue them. This was due to her youth.
(3'I 5)




316        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
In later years she bore her sorrows unaided by human
support. Many of Mrs. Grey's friends came up from
the city, full of grief and full of sympathy, and uttering words of hope they hardly felt. Frank was the
first of the family to arrive, though he lived farthest
off; Mr. Heath and Belle came next, and the group
waiting in suspense, grew larger every hour. Belle
was a marvel to herself; her treble sorrow, far from
crushing her, lifted her up to a calm and dignified
height where she had such glimpses of the glory of
God that she was almost fain to shut her eyes. They
all leaned upon her as upon a rock.
" Why do you stand at the window all the time?"
asked Laura.
" To catch the first sight of them when they come,"'
she said, simply.
"' Are you still hoping? I have given them up."
"I think God has heard our prayers and that He
will grant us the favor of knowing that their precious
dust is spared to us. Still, heaven is as easy to reach
from the river as from the dry land; we must remember that. Oh, Laura, look!"
A little procession was coming in sight; they bore
one body on their shoulders; as they drew near, the
sound of heavy boots fell like footsteps on their
hearts.
"It is our mother," said Frank, who had been all
day by the side of the river. " Look!"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           3I7
He removed the covering from her face, and there
she lay, the last heroic purpose written there, the eyes
closed, the attitude one of perfect rest.
"Let us give thanks!" said Cyril Heath.
They knelt around her, but he could not master his
voice, and it failed him; Frank tried, and broke down.
Then a woman's gentle, calm tones were heard; gentle and calm, but strong and victorious; they almost
saw the gates of heaven opened, and the triumphant
entrance of a glad and glorified spirit into the presence
of Christ.
Laura's tears came now in floods; as they rose from
their knees she threw her arms around Belle, and
said:
" You are on the wing; we shall lose you next!"
"You are mistaken," Belle said, quietly.
"Poor Margaret!" sighed Laura. "What a short,
eventful career!"
" I do not feel sure that Margaret is not living,"
said Belle. "Mamma was so ripe for heaven that it
seemed natural to think of her as being called home
without a moment's preparation. She desired to die
suddenly; I have heard her say so, repeatedly. But
dear Margaret was full of vitality and very human,
and while I think she was nobly'planned,' I also think
the plan was not fully carried out."
"She was one to suffer intensely."
"Yes, and to enjoy intensely."




31I8       TRE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"But if she is alive, where is she? Why don't we
hear from her?"
" I do not know, but God does. I pray for her;
and I never knew Him to let me pray for the dead.
Again and again I have been restrained from praying
for those for whom I was in the habit of praying daily.
It was so in the case of Maud. Just before the telegram came, announcing her death, I prayed for all the
rest of you, but when it came to her turn I was
speechless."
" Dear little Maud! Now she and mamma are together again."
This conversation took place amid many interruptions, while the two sisters prepared their mother's
form for the grave with their own hands. She had
often alluded to the event of her death, and expressed
herself as very weak on the point of being handled
by strangers. They nerved themselves, therefore, to
render all the last services unaided.
Some one tapped at the door. Laura opened it,
and a weeping figure tottered in.
It was old Mary, bent with grief. No one had
thought to send her a dispatch, and she was not in
the habit of reading the papers. She had heard the
disaster spoken of at market, and come away in her
working-dress, just as she was, her basket of provisions in her hand.
When her first wild burst of grief was over, Mary
said:




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            319
"Sure she's got her wish, and died sudden. She
was always ready to go, and now she's gone. Often's
the time I've heard her talk about dying, and I mind
a time when she thought she was going, and there
was a light in her eye, and' What d'ye think of that?'
says she. I declare, it was just as she looked when
she says to me,'Mary, I'm going to be married, and
what d'ye think of that?' says she. Well, I bursted
right out, and says I,' We won't be long separated,'
says I,'for I've got the brown creeturs, awful,' says
I,'and all I'll ask is to live to nurse you, and lay ye
out, and then there won't be no more need o' me in
this world, and the Lord'll say,'Old Mary, ye'r a poor,
ignorant creetur, and you ain't to be trusted without
your mistress, and I may as well let you in when I
open the gate for her.'"
Indeed, the shattered figure looked as if this blow
would be too much for it, as it soon proved to be.
" God has taken her away without pain," said Belle,
"and in great mercy. It was quite right in you to
come as soon as you heard the news."
"Ye'll let me do her hair with me own hands, Miss
Belle," said old Mary. "She always liked me to do
her hair. There, now, ain't she a picture?"
She did, indeed, look very beautiful, like one
sweetly asleep, not dead. Belle went out to call
Frank to see her. He was startled. "Is it not possible that she is living? " he asked.




320        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
"Why, Frank! After two days in the water?"
"But she is so like herself, Laura.  Harry is
very restless; he has asked for you several times."
"I had forgotten there was any Harry!" she said,
and moved slowly away.
Harry had slept most of the time during the two
days, but was now awake-and able to tell his wife all
about the fire, and with what difficulty he made his
way back to her mother and Margaret. How his arm
was broken he did not know, but it was in the
struggle to reach them. When he described the
moment when they both dropped away from him, she
apprehended the whole situation at once, and was
down on her knees at his side in a moment.
"And I reproached you!" she cried. "Harry,
can you ever forgive me?"
"I knew you would come out all right, at last," he
said.
"I did not know you tried to save them, with
one arm disabled," she said, very humbly. "Forgive
me, Harry."
"There is nothing to forgive, dearie. But there is
a great deal I wish I could forget. It was an awful
moment when I found I must let one go; but, oh,
Laura! when both went! I wonder I did not drop
dead."
"You did, nearly, poor boy. But tell me how it
was they both dropped?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           321
" Oh, I was such a fool! Knowing what characters
they were, I ought to have known that when I said
one must loose her hold, each would resolve to be
that one. Margaret was grasping my disabled arm
with all her strength, when I spoke; she actually
threw it from her, then, as one disdaining to purchase
her life by another's; youi mother's last movement
was different: she clasped my hand, kissed me, then
dropped it gently, or to express it more truly, laid it
down, as she would something forever done with;
the action symbolized final quiet parting with life.
You can't wonder that that awful moment deprived
me of my senses."
Some one knocked; it proved to be Frank.
"There is a possibility, a bare possibility, that
Margaret is living. There is a rumor that a young
woman floated down the river clinging to a board, and
was picked up by a fisherman."
"But if it were Margaret she would have sent us
some message."
"So it would seem. Still, Cyril is going to see.
Belle is very hopeful about it."
"In religion Belle is an enthusiast," was the reply.
"Frank, mamma sacrificed her life to Margaret, and
Margaret sacrificed hers to mamma. They both had
high notions on such points, and I can easily imagine
mamma as dying for almost any one she dearly loved;
but I did not believe Margaret had such heroism.
I4*




322        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
They died sublimely!/   Better such death than a
thousand narrow, selfish lives!"
"Yes, yes, indeed. Shall you be able to leave Harry to go with us to-morrow?"
"Yes; I must. George Van Zandt will stay with
him. Poor Harry! I have been so unjust to him!
Think of his trying to save mamma and Margaret,
with one arm broken! "
" Harry is a noble fellow. There goes Cyril. And
Belle with him, I declare! I must see to that."
He ran down and overtook them.
" I looked for you everywhere," she said, " and finally
left a message for you. If this proves to be Margaret
she is in a disabled condition, or she would have sent
a message. She knows how careful we are never to
leave each other in needless suspense. So I am going
to see."
"Do you think she ought to go, Cyril?"
"Certainly. Let her put on her mother's mantle
as soon as she likes. I agree with her that we shall
find Margaret, and find her disabled."
Very early the next morning Frank received this
dispatch:
"Margaret is living, but insensible."
"Ah, what different news this would be if mamma
were alive to hear it! " said Laura. " What a tantalizing telegram! -They do not say whether her case is
alarming or not."




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            323
A little later in the day came another dispatch:
"Cyril will join you at Greylock. I cannot leave
Margaret.                      BELLA HEATH."
" Belle not at mamma's funeral! " cried Laura, in
dismay.'How dreadful! Poor Belle! But she is
right; and yet, why could not I go to Margaret and
release her? Oh, it would not do to leave Harry.
We need another sister."
"Let me go," said Fred's wife. "Belle ought to
be at the funeral, and she must."
"Do, Hatty. If Margaret is insensible it cannot
matter who takes care of her, if it is only one of the
family."
There was no time to lose, and Fred and Hatty
hurried off. Fred had only time to land, find the
fisherman's cottage where Margaret lay, and almost
force Belle away, leaving his wife in her place.
"It was very, very kind in Hatty," Belle said, as
the steamer pushed off. " I will relieve her as soon
as possible. How often it happens that the tide of
grief is partially stayed by a rush of care. I have
been so absorbed in Margaret that I have hardly had
time to think of myself."
"Can she be made comfortable in that little
cottage?"
"They are very kind people who live there; and
then as to comfort, she would not know if she was




324        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
in a palace. The physician who attends her says the
brain has received a severe shock and is very doubtful as to what the result will be. But she has a strong
constitution, and I think she will live."
" And where? "
Belle turned upon him a look full-of astonishment.
"I had not thought of that," she said. "Why,
she would come to me, I suppose."
"It would be a great change for her, and interrupt
her studies, and put miles between her and any
studio," said Fred.
"Yes. It will be time enough to think of that
when she recovers."




CHAPTER XXVI.
THE funeral was over, and Frank and his brothers
examined their mother's papers, to learn, if possible,
her last wishes. Everything was in as perfect order
as if she had known she was going forth to die. She
wished Margaret to remain at Greylock, and that
whichever of the family could most conveniently do
so, would reside there with her, and keep up the place
as of old, until such time as any striking event in the
family should make some other plan more desirable.
Nothing, however, could be done at present. Old
Mary was left in charge, and the family scattered,
gradually, away to their homes. Belle was obliged to
go home, on account of her children, and Hatty wanted
to go to hers.
"Why couldn't Margaret be brought to me?"
asked Laura. " I must be at home, for poor Harry's
sake, and Hatty ought to return with Fred. Could
we not charter a small steamer, and transport her
without danger? What a pity Harry is laid up!
He knows every craft on the river."
(325)




326        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Frank took the matter in hand. Margaret was
their sacred trust now, and must be cared for exactly
as if their mother were living. A small steamer was
procured, the transportation safely effected, and Laura
gave up all other interests in the care of her two patients. In a few days Harry was able to move about
the house, and the first time he left his room it was to
accompany the physician to Margaret's. She was lying quietly until their entrance, when she aroused, with
a more intelligent aspect than she had worn since the
disaster. Harry leaned over her and took her hand;
she spurned his clasp instantly, with the decided
words:
"Not aunty!"
"That is the way she acts to every one who takes
her hand," said Laura.  "I don't know what it
means."
"It means," said Harry, "that she is living over
again that awful moment when I asked which should
loose her hold on me, herself or mother.  It was
with precisely that manner that she spurned me, as it
were."
"We must avoid taking her hand, if that is the
case; and I do not doubt that it is," said the doctor.
" What nobility of character she has shown! I never
met with so interesting a case. But it is obscure. I
should be glad to call in some more experienced man
to my aid. Have I your permission to do so?"




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            327
"Certainly," said Harry. "Call half a dozen, if
necessary. This young lady, to all intents and purposes, gave up a life full of promise to save our
mother's; we owe her every tender care, and mean to
give it."
"I think she must also have two attendants, so as
never to be left alone a moment."
Laura looked at him inquiringly.
"As a precaution," he replied. "There is no knowing what the next phase of the disease may be. She
might attempt to injure herself. I should like this
pair of scissors removed from the room," he added,
taking up a pair that lay within reach.
"How strange and dreadful it all is," said Laura.
"If you could have seen her in her days of health,
when she never wasted a minute, and contrast it with
this listlessness and idleness! O, it all seems so hard!
We had been such a happy family; and now everything is changed."
The doctor was silent; he was young and did not
know what to say.
After a few moments he said, just touching Margaret's hair:
"I am sorry to say that this must come off."
"She would not care," said Laura. " A more'unworldly girl never lived. I believe I was prouder of
her than she was of herself."
"I will go to the city this afternoon," said the doc.




328        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
tor, "and try to bring one or two of our most. eminent men to spend the night; they ought to see our
patient's condition at the extremes of the day. Mrs.
Worcester, may I trouble you to adjust the thermometer under the arm, as you did yesterday?"
Laura arranged the instrument, and they watched
the result in silence. Harry accompanied the doctor
down-stairs.
"What was the temperature?" he asked.
"Ioo~," was the reply.
"Do you consider that favorable'?"
"Yes. I will see the young lady again to-night."
The tramp of four men entering her room together
did not arouse Margaret. She lay in an attitude of
great exhaustion as the three physicians, accompanied
by Harry, came in, and was, evidently, unconscious
of their presence.
"I should like to arouse her if it could be done
through some pleasant channel. Had she any favorite
pursuits? "
"Yes," said Laura, "she painted beautifully, and
was full of enthusiasm about it."
" Speak of it, if you please."
"Margaret," said Laura, coaxingly, "you haven't
painted at all to-day. And you paint so beautifully.
You'll paint something for me, won't you?''
There was no answer.
" Margaret, dear, you tried to save mamma's life.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.          329
That was very noble in you. We all thank you so
much."
No response.
"Perhaps," very slowly and distinctly, "you think
you are lying dead at the bottom of the river, and
that God has forgotten your poor soul. But you are
not drowned, darling. He could not take you to
heaven, because you are alive. Did you fancy, perhaps, that He did not love you, and just left you?
Why, He loves you dearly! "
The bewildered brain was reached at last. Like
one suddenly awaking from sleep, Margaret looked
around upon the group gathered about her. Laura
had touched the spring few hands could have reached.
It was not the shock of believing herself drowned
that had dethroned her reason; it was the horror of
being dead and finding her religion a fable. At a sig.
nal from the eldest physician all stole quietly away,
with the exception of Laura.
Leaning over his patient, he said in kind, fatherly
tones:
"You had begun to think there wasn't any God.
But there is one. He is here, now. Everything you
have ever believed about Him is true. And as it is
getting dark, I would say,' Now I lay me,' and go
right to sleep, if I were you."
She looked at him, devouring every word; then, as
he gently withdrew out of sight, and Laura did the




330        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
same, Margaret joined her hands, repeated the prayer,
and fell into a sweet, natural sleep.
When the venerable physician rejoined the younger
ones, they gathered about him with great reverence.
"I should never have dared to try such an experiment," said one.
" Nor I," said another.
The old man smiled. "I took counsel of One who
never errs," he said. "I commend Him to you in all
obscure cases. The whole history of my success in
my profession lies in this word of Scripture:'The
secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him.' Gentlemen, I think we may return to the city to-night."
" I trust, sir, you will do us the favor to remain, if
the others feel inclined to go," said Harry. "It would
be a great comfort to my wife, who has been under a
great strain. We have long desired to make your acquaintance, and our pure, highland air ought to refresh you."
" I shall have to be off bright and early in the morning, then," was the reply.
The three younger men departed, after a substantial country supper; and as Margaret continued to
sleep, only rousing enough to take nourishment, Harry
and Laura had Dr. X. all to themselves. They almost sat at his feet, as he told of case after case, that
to him, as a man, was hopeless, which yielded to
Divine inspiration when that was resorted to.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           331
" Some laugh at the old man," he continued, " and
ask why I study my cases at all, and do not give them
all over to Providence. My answer is this: As a man
endowed with genius has to toil for success, so a soul
endowed with faith is obliged to use all earthly means
available to an end; God gives no premium to the
idler. As long as I live I hope to dig deep into treas,
ures of wisdom and knowledge; but I expect, also,
to put every case that baffles human wisdom right into
the Divine hand."
He was a genial old man, and the evening spent
with him was something Harry and Laura remembered all their lives. He was up in the morning long
before they were, and captivated the children by a
joyous frolic with them. This was no small refreshment after so many days of sad faces. He went in to
see Margaret just before he left. All the soul had
come back into her face, but she was still too feeble
to speak. She had a wistful look in her bright eyes,
but not an anxious one.
"Keep the knowledge of Mrs. Grey's death from
her as long as possible," he said to Laura, as he took
leave. "Wear a white dress when you go to her
room, and assume a cheerful look. Of course, your
own physician must watch her with constant care."
Laura had great self-control, and was able to appear
as usual when in Margaret's presence. And in a week
or two her recovery became very rapid. Now the




332        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
question was how to break the news to her. Strangely
enough she had not asked for Mrs. Grey, or expressed
surprise at not seeing her.
"How soon do you think you shall be able to go
home?" Laura asked one day.
"I don't know; are you tired of me?"
"No; but when you go we are all going too, and
we ought to get away before cold weather."
"That reminds me," said Margaret, starting, "of
Mabel's portrait. Did I ever finish it?"
" Not that I know of."
" I ought to go home and finish it. Laura, why
didn't aunty come when I did?  We were to come
together; why didn't we?"
"You forget things, dear. You have been very ill,
you know."
"Yes; I suppose she has gone back to Greylock.
But why doesn't she write to me? Perhaps I was
cross to her when I was sick, and weaned her from
me. Was I, Laura.?"
"No, indeed."
"I will write to her and tell her how fast I am getting well; then I shall certainly get a letter. Don't
you think so?"
Laura was never so tempted to tell a lie. As it
was, she answered as carelessly as she could, " It is a
long time since I had a letter from her. Are you glad
that we are all going to live at Greylock?" asked
Laura.




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.            333
"Oh, are you going there to live? Going to leave
this beautiful house? Why, Laura! "
"Mamma wished one of her children to go, and it
was most convenient for us; in fact, we are the only
ones who could."
"It doesn't seem like aunty to want you to leave
this house, just as you are so nicely settled in it. Not
an atom like her. Something is going wrong; I am
sure there is. Has she gone crazy?"
"No, no. Don't worry about it. We are perfectly
satisfied to go."
" Doesn't she like this house? Is that the reason?"
"No, that's not the reason. How could she dislike
it when she never saw it. Margaret, how you do
tease one."
"Do I?" asked Margaret, very humbly. "I don't
mean to tease. Only I am puzzled."
" People always are after such illness as yours."
Margaret was silent, and lay back in her chair, to
think.
t It was going to be pleasant to have Harry and
Laura at Greylock. The more she saw of them the
more she liked them. Then there were the children.
By the way, where were the children.
"Why, Laura," she said reproachfully, "I haven't
seen the children since I came."
" You'll see enough of them at Greylock."
"Oh, but I want to see the dear little things now.
Bring them to me; do."




334        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
Laura went to the nursery, took off the children's
black sashes, charged them to say nothing about
grandmamma, and led them in. The moment Margaret's eye fell upon their truthful little faces, she
looked at them searchingly, and with a startled air
that alarmed Laura.
"i Harry, who is dead? " she asked.
" Mamma told me not to tell," said the boy, bursting into tears.
"His face has told me, Laura," said Margaret, faintly. "I see it all now. I made Harry save me, and
let her drown!"
"It is not true; you did not let her drown! You
tried to die in order to save her. We all admire and
love you for it; we will all do anything and everything for you. Only don't look so; for mercy's sake,
don't look as if you were dying. Run, children, and
call nurse, and do you stay in the nursery. You've
done mischief enough for one day. Margaret, won't
you speak to me?"
"She's only fainted, ma'am," said the nurse, a middle-aged, experienced woman. "No fear of her dying.
Just help me lay her down flat on her back, and
sprinkle her face with water. Or, if you please, a
little hartshorn."
Laura had had little to do with sickness, and was
now so frightened that she could not remember whether the hartshorn should be diluted or not. She hasti



THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           335
ly mixed it, half and half, and the nurse poured it
down Margaret's throat. It had the effect of bringing
her to life again instantly; and there came a time
when she and Laura could both laugh at the blunder.
Such is our existence here upon earth. Our hearts
break and they are healed. We weep and we smile.
We fail, and are disappointed, and we try once more.
Nothing had befallen Margaret that has not befallen
thousands. Her fate might have been infinitely worse
than it was. She might have been left friendless and
homeless. But here she was surrounded by loving
hearts; her home was secured to her; all her plans of
life were to be carried out; had she any right to
mourn? Indeed she had. She had lost one of the
most magnanimous friends ever given to mortal
woman; she had lost the tenderest heart that was
beating upon earth for her; she had lost the inspiration
of a holy example. Did she well to mourn? Yes, yes.
But she bore her grief nobly, and on the very
day on which the dreadful truth was revealed to her
she wrote in her "book of mercies:"
" I understand, now, how one can be glad to suffer
God's will when too weak to do it. What a mercy! "




CHAPTER XXVII.
ONCE more the doors of Greylock were opened
wide, and children and grandchildren flocked together
for the Christmas festival. But it was the last assemblage of the sort. It needed an immense power to
call so many, and so widely-scattered households into
one; and that power was gone. They loved each
other dearly still, but she who held them united was
gone; the sacrifice of time, and the thousand discomforts of winter-travel, never thought of during her
life, now asserted their rights, and were heard. Now
one family dropped off, now another, until at last
Laura and her husband and children, with Margaret,
held undisputed possession of the house. Yet the
strong character of the mother lived still. In every
one of the homes this was done, that left undone, to
please her. On some of them, it is true, her influence
was in the main unconscious, but with most of them
she was the constant object of love, study, and imitation. They obeyed her as implicitly as when they
were little children, for her laws were those of sound
(336)




THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.           337
common sense, sanctified by the Word of God and by
prayer. Belle wore the mantle of her piety, and her
judgment was consulted by them all, in every domestic emergency. Laura went on having Pugs and Trots,
whom she never seemed to "manage " at all, but who
were delightful creatures; bright, wide-awake, spirited,
but in all other points original and dissimilar. She
always said she destroyed the pattern by which each
child was made, that no other might be made like it,
and that if they all had dared to have blue, or all
black eyes, she would have put some of them out in
order to have variety in the house. But it was enough
to her to be a mother, so, though she had one of her
quaint babies at all sorts of irregular times, she contrived to bring forth books as well, while developing
more and more, not into a second Mrs. Grey, but into
a character as pronounced, and as formed to influence
her day and generation.
Gabrielle developed very rapidly. At seventeen,
she was where many girls are at twenty-five. Her
mother thankfully dropped the household reins the
moment she saw her ready to take them up, and with
grandmamma for her model, she made a well-ordered
home for them all.
As to Margaret, there were so many sides to her
character that it would be impossible to paint close
enough to nature to depict her, without producing an
exaggeration. Very few ever did her justice, owing
15




338        THE HOME AT GREYLOCK.
to a modesty of the most deep-seated character. She
never did or said anything in order to shine, but when
admirers pressed upon her, shrank back, and back,
and back, till they wearied of the pursuit and gave
her up as a paradox beyond their comprehension.
No matter what she acquired or how famous she became, she never seemed.to know it, and a little child
could always lead her. She knelt to those she loved,
even when they were her inferiors; they were not
many, but they were a happy few. As Mrs. Grey
had predicted, more than one brilliant career lay open
to her, but she was too truly a woman, too steadfastly
and deeply religious to venture upon either. To follow in the footsteps of that venerated and beloved
one, was ambition enough for her; to serve God as she
had served Him, to lend herself to every human soul
that needed her, as she had done; this was her choice.
The humble pathway was little heeded by a world
that, struggling for the honors of life, cannot conceive
of their being deliberately put by. But it was watched
by the eye of God, and how often He met her upon
and blessed her in it, is known only to Him.




BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
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