Nobody

"Could the world be managed," he said, with very gentle deference;"could the world be managed on such principles of truth and purity?Must we not take people as we find them?"

"Those are the Lord's principles," said Mrs. Armadale.

"Yes, but you know how the world is. Must we not, a little, as I said, take people as we find them?"

"The Lord won't do that," said the old lady. "He will either make thembetter, or he will cast them away."

"But we? We must deal with things as they are."

"How are you goin' to deal with 'em?"

"In charity and kindness; having patience with what is wrong, andbelieving that the good God will have more patience yet."

"You had better believe what he tells you," the old lady answered, somewhat sternly.

"But grandmother," Lois put in here, "he does have patience."

"With whom, child?"

Lois did not answer; she only quoted softly the words —

"'Plenteous in mercy, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and truth.'"

"Ay, child; but you know what happens to the houses built on the sand."

The party broke up here, Mrs. Barclay bidding good-night and leavingthe dining-room, whither they had all gone to eat apples. As Philipparted from Lois he remarked, —

"I did not understand the allusion in Mrs. Armadale's last words."

Lois's look fascinated him. It was just a moment's look, pausing beforeturning away; swift with eagerness and intent with some hidden feelingwhich he hardly comprehended. She only said, —

"Look in the end of the seventh chapter of Matthew."

"Well," said Mrs. Barclay, when the door was closed, "what do you thinkof our progress?"

"Progress?" repeated Philip vacantly. "I beg your pardon!" —

"In music, man!" said Mrs. Barclay, laughing.

"O! – Admirable. Have you a Bible here?"

"A Bible?" Mrs. Barclay echoed. "Yes – there is a Bible in every room, Ibelieve. Yonder, on that table. Why? what do you want of one now?"

"I have had a sermon preached to me, and I want to find the text."

Mrs. Barclay asked no further, but she watched him, as with the book inhis hand he sat down before the fire and studied the open page. Studiedwith grave thoughtfulness, drawing his brows a little, and ponderingwith eyes fixed on the words for some length of time. Then he bade hergood-night with a smile, and went away.

He went away in good earnest next day; but as a subject of conversationin the village his visit lasted a good while. That same evening Mrs.Marx came to make a call, just before supper.

"How much pork are you goin' to want this year, mother?" she began, with the business of one who had been stirring her energies with a walkin a cool wind.

"I suppose, about as usual," said Mrs. Armadale.

"I forget how much that is; I can't keep it in my head from one year toanother. Besides, I didn't know but you'd want an extra quantity, ifyour family was goin' to be larger."

"It is not going to be larger, as I know."

"If my pork ain't, I shall come short home. It beats me! I've fed 'emjust the same as usual, – and the corn's every bit as good as usual, never better; good big fat yellow ears, that had ought to make aporker's heart dance for joy; and I should think they were sufferin'from continual lowness o' spirits, to judge by the way they don't getfat. They're growing real long-legged and slab-sided – just the way Ihate to see pigs look. I don' know what's the matter with 'em."

"Where do you keep 'em?"

"Under the barn – just where they always be. Well, you've had a visitor?"

"Mrs. Barclay has."

"I understood 'twas her company; but you saw him?"

"We saw him as much as she did," put in Charity.

"What's he like?"

Nobody answered.

"Is he one of your high-flyers?"

"I don't know what you call high-flyers, aunt Anne," said Madge. "Hewas a gentleman."

"What do you mean by that? I saw some 'gentlemen' last summer at

Appledore – and I don't want to see no more. Was he that kind?"

"I wasn't there," said Madge, "and can't tell. I should have noobjection to see a good many of them, if he is."

"I heard he went to Sunday School with Lois, through the rain."

"How did you know?" said Lois.

"Why shouldn't I know?"

"I thought nobody was out but me."

"Do you think folks will see an umbrella walkin' up street in the rain, and not look to see if there's somebody under it?"

"I shouldn't," said Lois. "When should an umbrella be out walking, but in the rain?"

"Well, go along. What sort of a man is he? and what brings him to

Shampuashuh?"

"He came to see Mrs. Barclay," said Madge.

"He's a sort of man you are willin' to take trouble for," said Charity."Real nice, and considerate; and to hear him talk, it is as good as abook; and he's awfully polite. You should have seen him marching inhere with Lois's wet cloak, out to the kitchen with it, and hangin' itup. So to pay, I turned round and hung up his'n. One good turn deservesanother, I told him. But at first, I declare, I thought I couldn't keepfrom laughin'."

Mrs. Marx laughed a little here. "I know the sort," she said. "Wearskid gloves always and a little line of hair over his upper lip, and islazy like. I would lose all my patience to have one o' them round forlong, smokin' a cigar every other thing, and poisonin' all the air forhalf a mile."

"I think he is sort o' lazy," said Charity.

"He don't smoke," said Lois.

"Yes he does," said Madge. "I found an end of cigar just down by thefront steps, when I was sweeping."

"I don't think he's a lazy man, either," said Lois. "That slow, easyway does not mean laziness."

"What does it mean?" inquired Mrs. Marx sharply.

"It is nothing to us what it means," said Mrs. Armadale, speaking forthe first time. "We have no concern with this man. He came to see Mrs.Barclay, his friend, and I suppose he'll never come again."

"Why shouldn't he come again, mother?" said Charity. "If she's hisfriend, he might want to see her more than once, seems to me. Andwhat's more, he is coming again. I heard him askin' her if he might; and then Mrs. Barclay asked me if it would be convenient, and I said itwould, of course. He said he would be comin' back from Boston in a fewweeks, and he would like to stop again as he went by. And do you knowI think she coloured. It was only a little, but she ain't a woman toblush much; and I believe she knows why he wants to come, as well ashe does."

"Nonsense, Charity!" said Madge incredulously.

"Then half the world are busy with nonsense, that's all I have to say; and I'm glad for my part I've somethin' better to do."

"Do you say he's comin' again?" inquired Mrs. Armadale.

"He says so, mother."

"What for?"

"Why, to visit his friend Mrs. Barclay, of course."

"She is our friend," said the old lady; "and her friends must beentertained; but he is not our friend, children. We ain't of hiskind, and he ain't of our'n."

"What's the matter? Ain't he good?" asked Mrs. Marx.

"He's very good!" said Madge.

"Not in grandmother's way," said Lois softly.

"Mother," said Mrs. Marx, "you can't have everybody cut out on yourpattern."

Mrs. Armadale made no answer.

"And there ain't enough o' your pattern to keep one from bein'lonesome, if we're to have nothin' to do with the rest."

"Better so," said the old lady. "I don't want no company for my chil'enthat won't help 'em on the road to heaven. They'll have company enoughwhen they get there."

"And how are you goin' to be the salt o' the earth, then, if you won'ttouch nothin'?"

"How, if the salt loses its saltness, daughter?"

"Well, mother, it always puzzles me, that there's so much to be said onboth sides of things! I'll go home and think about it. Then he ain'tone o' your Appledore friends, Lois?"

"Not one of my friends at all, aunt Anne."

So the talk ended. There was a little private extension of it thatevening, when Lois and Madge went up to bed.

"It's a pity grandma is so sharp about things," the latter remarked toher sister.

"Things?" said Lois. "What things?"

"Well – people. Don't you like that Mr. Dillwyn?"

"Yes."

"So do I. And she don't want us to have anything to do with him."

"But she is right," said Lois. "He is not a Christian."

"But one can't live only with Christians in this world. And, Lois, I'lltell you what I think; he is a great deal pleasanter than a good manyChristians I know."

"He is good company," said Lois. "He has seen a great deal and read agreat deal, and he knows how to talk. That makes him pleasant."

"Well, he's a great deal more improving to be with than anybody I knowin Shampuashuh."

"In one way."

"Why shouldn't one have the pleasure, then, and the good, if he isn't a

Christian?"

"The pleasanter he is, I suppose the more danger, grandmother wouldthink."

"Danger of what?"

"You know, Madge, it is not my say-so, nor even grandmother's. Youknow, Christians are not of the world."

"But they must see the world."

"If we were to see much of that sort of person, we might get to wishingto see them always."

"By 'that sort of person' I suppose you mean Mr. Dillwyn? Well, I havegot so far as that already. I wish I could see such people always."

"I am sorry."

"Why? You ought to be glad at my good taste."

"I am sorry, because you are wishing for what you cannot have."

"How do you know that? You cannot tell what may happen."

"Madge, a man like Mr. Dillwyn would never think of a girl like you orme."

"I am not wanting him to think of me," said Madge rather hotly. "But,

Lois, if you come to that, I think I – and you – are fit for anybody."

"Yes," said Lois quietly. "I think so too. But they do not take thesame view. And if they did, Madge, we could not think of them."

"Why not? —if they did. I do not hold quite such extreme rules as youand grandmother do."

"And the Bible." —

"Other people do not think the Bible is so strict."

"You know what the words are, Madge."

"I don't know what the words mean."

Lois was brushing out the thick masses of her beautiful hair, whichfloated about over her in waves of golden brown; and Madge had beenthinking, privately, that if anybody could have just that view of Lois, his scruples – if he had any – would certainly give way. Now, at hersister's last words, however, Lois laid down her brush, and, coming up, laid hold of Madge by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shaking. Itended in something of a romp, but Lois declared Madge should never saysuch a thing again.

CHAPTER XXXVI

TWO SUNDAY SCHOOLS

Lois was inclined now to think it might be quite as well if somethinghindered Mr. Dillwyn's second visit. She did not wonder at Madge'sevident fascination; she had felt the same herself long ago, and inconnection with other people; the charm of good breeding and graciousmanners, and the habit of the world, even apart from knowledge andcultivation and the art of conversation. Yes, Mr. Dillwyn was a goodspecimen of this sort of attraction; and for a moment Lois'simagination recalled that day's two walks in the rain; then she shookoff the impression. Two poor Shampuashuh girls were not likely to havemuch to do with that sort of society, and – it was best they should not.It would be just as well if Mr. Dillwyn was hindered from coming again.

But he came. A month had passed; it was the beginning of December whenhe knocked next at the door, and cold and grey and cloudy and windy asit is December's character in certain moods to be. The reception he gotwas hearty in proportion; fires were larger, the table even morehospitably spread; Mrs. Barclay even more cordial, and the familyatmosphere not less genial. Nevertheless the visit, for Mr. Dillwyn'sspecial ends, was hardly satisfactory. He could get no private speechwith Lois. She was always "busy;" and at meal-times it was obviouslyimpossible, and would have been impolitic, to pay any particularattention to her. Philip did not attempt it. He talked rather to everyone else; made himself delightful company; but groaned in secret.

"Cannot you make some excuse for getting her in here?" he asked Mrs.

Barclay at evening.

"Not without her sister."

"With her sister, then."

"They are very busy just now preparing some thing they call 'applebutter.' It's unlucky, Philip. I am very sorry. I always told you yourway looked to me intricate."

Fortune favoured him, however, in an unexpected way. After a day passedin much inward impatience, for he had not got a word with Lois, and hehad no excuse for prolonging his stay beyond the next day, as they satat supper, the door opened, and in came two ladies. Mr. Dillwyn wasformally presented to one of them as to "my aunt, Mrs. Marx;" the otherwas named as "Mrs. Seelye." The latter was a neat, brisk little body, with a capable air and a mien of business; all whose words came out asif they had been nicely picked and squared, and sorted and packed, andserved in order.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Armadale" she began, in a chirruping littlevoice. Indeed, her whole air was that of a notable little hen lookingafter her chickens. Charity assured her it was no interruption.

"Mrs. Seelye and I had our tea hours ago," said Mrs. Marx. "I hadmuffins for her, and we ate all we could then. We don't want no morenow. We're on business."

"Yes," said Mrs. Seelye. "Mrs. Marx and I, we've got to see everybody, pretty much; and there ain't much time to do it in; so you see we can'tchoose, and we just come here to see what you'll do for us."

"What do you want us to do for you, Mrs. Seelye?" Lois asked.

"Well, I don't know; only all you can. We want your counsel, and thenyour help. Mr. Seelye he said, Go to the Lothrop girls first. I didn'tcome first, 'cause there was somebody else on my way here; but thisis our fourth call, ain't it, Mrs. Marx?"

"I thought I'd never get you away from No. 3," was the answer.

"They were very much interested, – and I wanted to make them allunderstand – it was important that they should all understand – "

"And there are different ways of understanin'," added Mrs. Marx; "andthere are a good many of 'em – the Hicks's, I mean; and so, when wethought we'd got it all right with one, we found somebody else was in afog; and then he had to be fetched out."

"But we are all in a fog," said Madge, laughing. "What are you comingto? and what are we to understand?"

"We have a little plan," said Mrs. Seelye.

"It'll be a big one, before we get through with it," added hercoadjutor. "Nobody'll be frightened here if you call it a big one tostart with, Mrs. Seelye. I like to look things in the face."

"So do we," said Mrs. Armadale, with a kind of grim humour, – "if youwill give us a chance."

"Well, it's about the children," said Mrs. Seelye.

"Christmas – " added Mrs. Marx.

"Be quiet, Anne," said her mother. "Go on, Mrs. Seelye. Whose children?"

"I might say, they are all Mr. Seelye's children," said the littlelady, laughing; "and so they are in a way, as they are all belonging tohis church. He feels he is responsible for the care of 'em, and hedon't want to lose 'em. And that's what it's all about, and how theplan came up."

"How's he goin' to lose 'em?" Mrs. Armadale asked, beginning now toknit again.

"Well, you see the other church is makin' great efforts; and they'regoin' to have a tree."

"What sort of a tree? and what do they want a tree for?"

"Why, a fir tree!" – and, "Why, a Christmas tree!" cried the two ladieswho advocated the "plan," both in a breath.

"Mother don't know about that," Mrs. Marx went on. "It's a new fashion, mother, – come up since your day. They have a green tree, planted in atub, and hung with all sorts of things to make it look pretty; littlecandles especially; and at night they light it up; and the children aretickled to death with it."

"In-doors?"

"Why, of course in-doors. Couldn't be out-of-doors, in the snow."

"I didn't know," said the old lady; "I don't understand the newfashions. I should think they would burn up the house, if it'sin-doors."

"O no, no danger," explained Mrs. Seelye. "They make them wonderfullypretty, with the branches all hung full with glass balls, and candles, and ribbands, and gilt toys, and papers of sugar plums – cornucopia, youknow; and dolls, and tops, and jacks, and trumpets, and whips, andeverything you can think of, – till it is as full as it can be, and thebranches hang down with the weight; and it looks like a fairy tree; andthen the heavy presents lie at the foot round about and cover the tub."

"I should think the children would be delighted," said Madge.

"I don't believe it's as much fun as Santa Claus and the stocking,"said Lois.

"No, nor I," said Mrs. Barclay.

"But we have nothing to do with the children's stockings," said Mrs.Seelye. "They may hang up as many as they like. That's at home. This isin the church."

"O, in the church! I thought you said it was in the house – in people'shouses," said Charity.

"So it is; but this tree is to be in the church."

"What tree?"

"La! how stupid you are, Charity," exclaimed her aunt. "Didn't Mrs.

Seelye tell you? – the tree the other church are gettin' up."

"Oh – " said Charity. "Well, you can't hinder 'em, as I see."

"Don't want to hinder 'em! What should we hinder 'em for? But we don'twant 'em to get all our chil'en away; that's what we're lookin' at."

"Do you think they'd go?"

"Mr. Seelye's afraid it'll thin off the school dreadful," said Mr.

Seelye's helpmate.

"They're safe to go," added Mrs. Marx. "Ask children to step in and seefairyland, and why shouldn't they go? I'd go if I was they. All therest of the year it ain't fairyland in Shampuashuh. I'd go fast enough."

"Then I don't see what you are goin' to do about it," said Charity,"but to sit down and count your chickens that are left."

"That's what we came to tell you," said the minister's wife.

"Well, tell," said Charity. "You haven't told yet, only what the otherchurch is going to do."

"Well, we thought the only way was for us to do somethin' too."

"Only not another tree," said Lois. "Not that, for pity's sake."

"Why not?" asked the little minister's wife, with an air of beingsomewhat taken aback. "Why haven't we as good a right to have a tree asthey have?"

"Right, if you like," said Lois; "but right isn't all."

"Go on, and let's hear your wisdom, Lois," said her aunt. "I s'poseyou'll say first, we can't do it."

"We can do it, perhaps," said Lois; "but, aunt Anne, it would make badfeeling."

"That's not our look-out," rejoined Mrs. Marx. "We haven't any badfeeling."

"No, not in the least," added Mrs. Seelye. "We only want to give ourchildren as good a time as the others have. That's right."

"'Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory,'" Mrs. Armadale'svoice was here heard to say.

"Yes, I know, mother, you have old-fashioned ideas," said Mrs. Marx;"but the world ain't as it used to be when you was a girl. Noweverybody's puttin' steam on; and churches and Sunday schools as wellas all the rest. We have organs, and choirs, and concerts, andcelebrations, and fairs, and festivals; and if we don't go with thecrowd, they'll leave us behind, you see."

"I don't believe in it all!" said Mrs. Armadale.

"Well, mother, we've got to take the world as we find it. Now thechildren all through the village are all agog with the story of whatthe yellow church is goin' to do; and if the white church don't dosomethin', they'll all run t'other way – that you may depend on.Children are children."

"I sometimes think the grown folks are children," said the old lady.

"Well, we ought to be children," said Mrs. Seelye; "I am sure we allknow that. But Mr. Seelye thought this was the only thing we could do."

"There comes in the second difficulty, Mrs. Seelye," said Lois. "Wecannot do it."

"I don't see why we cannot. We've as good a place for it, quite."

"I mean, we cannot do it satisfactorily. It will not be the same thing.

We cannot raise the money. Don't it take a good deal?"

"Well, it takes considerable. But I think, if we all try, we can scareit up somehow."

Lois shook her head. "The other church is richer than we are," she said.

"That's a fact," said Charity.

Mrs. Seelye hesitated. "I don't know," she said, – "they have one or tworich men. Mr. Georges – "

"O, and Mr. Flare," cried Madge, "and Buck, and Setterdown; and the

Ropers and the Magnuses."

"Yes," said Mrs. Seelye; "but we have more people, and there's none of'em to call poor. If we get 'em interested – and those we have spoken toare very much taken with the plan – very much; I think it would be agreat disappointment now if we were to stop; and the children have gottalking about it. I think we can do it; and it would be a very goodthing for the whole church, to get 'em interested."

"You can always get people interested in play," said Mrs. Armadale.

"What you want, is to get 'em interested in work."

"There'll be a good deal of work about this, before it's over," saidMrs. Seelye, with a pleased chuckle. "And I think, when they get theirpride up, the money will be coming."

Mrs. Marx made a grimace, but said nothing.

"'When pride cometh, than cometh shame,'" said Mrs. Armadale quietly.

"O yes, some sorts of pride," said the little minister's wife briskly;"but I mean a proper sort. We don't want to let our church go down, andwe don't want to have our Sunday school thinned out; and I can tellyou, where the children go, there the fathers and mothers will begoing, next thing."

"What do you propose to do?" said Lois. "We have not fairly heard yet."

"Well, we thought we'd have some sort of celebration, and give theschool a jolly time somehow. We'd dress up the church handsomely withevergreens; and have it well lighted; and then, we would have aChristmas tree if we could. Or, if we couldn't, then we'd have a realgood hot supper, and give the children presents. But I'm afraid, if wedon't have a tree, they'll all run off to the other church; and I thinkthey're going already, so as to get asked. Mr. Seelye said theattendance was real thin last Sabbath."

There followed an animated discussion of the whole subject, with everypoint brought up again, and again and again. The talkers were, for themost part, Charity and Madge, with the two ladies who had come in; Mrs.Armadale rarely throwing in a word, which always seemed to have adisturbing power; and things were taken up and gone over anew to getrid of the disturbance. Lois sat silent and played with her spoon. Mrs.Barclay and Philip listened with grave amusement.

"Well, I can't sit here all night," said Charity at last, rising frombehind her tea-board. "Madge and Lois, – just jump up and put away thethings, won't you; and hand me up the knives and plates. Don't troubleyourself, Mrs. Barclay. If other folks in the village are as busy as Iam, you'll come short home for your Christmas work, Mrs. Seelye."

"It's the busy people always that help," said the little ladypropitiatingly.

"That's a fact; but I don't see no end o' this to take hold of. Youhain't got the money; and if you had it, you don't know what you want; and if you did know, it ain't in Shampuashuh; and I don't see who is togo to New York or New Haven, shopping for you. And if you had it, whoknows how to fix a Christmas tree? Not a soul in our church."

Mrs. Barclay and her guest withdrew at this point of the discussion.But later, when the visitors were gone, she opened the door of herroom, and said,

"Madge and Lois, can you come in here for a few minutes? It isbusiness."

The two girls came in, Madge a little eagerly; Lois, Mrs. Barclayfancied, with a manner of some reserve.

"Mr. Dillwyn has something to suggest," she began, "about this plan wehave heard talked over; that is, if you care about it's being carriedinto execution."

"I care, of course," said Madge. "If it is to be done, I think it willbe great fun."

"If it is to be done," Lois repeated. "Grandmother does not approve ofit; and I always think, what she does not like, I must not like."

"Always?" asked Mr. Dillwyn.