ENGLAND! Yes, that was to be my destination! How I wished the jolting of the train were over, and that I could come out of my dark recess. Not that I dreaded the darkness, but I wanted to hear the good old man talk. I believed that he would lose no opportunity of speaking a word for his heavenly Master to his fellow passengers.
Were they not like himself, each possessed of a never-dying soul? A soul that must live forever in happiness or misery. Yes! I should like to have heard him telling of "rest for the weary" heart, and "the precious blood that cleanseth from all sin." And to have heard him refer again to that "home" of which he had spoken to my former master.
But safely in my warm, snug corner I lay, till the unusual bustle and noise told me that something must have occurred. I soon found that I was removed from the railway train to the steamer, and that we were about to cross the Straits of Dover. It was a rough passage! I could hear some of the passengers longing to be “safely on land" again. Once Mr. Harbury was near enough for me to hear him say to a lady, who seemed to be half hysterical with fear, “My dear Madam, do you not know that the power of God is the same on sea as on land?"
I did not hear her reply. Whether she took refuge in the cabin, or whether the words of my master reproved her want of faith, I do not know. But certainly, I did not distinguish her cries any more. “A word in season; how good it is!" May you all have that heavenly wisdom which alone can teach you how to speak the right word at the right time.
London once reached, I found that was not to be my destination. By various stages we had at last reached the little town of Barton, in Devonshire, the dwelling-place of Mr. Harbury, my present owner. Surely there must be some mistake, thought I as the vehicle drew up before a small but neat-looking cottage on the outskirts of the town. A man who could buy such a watch as I, for his wife, cannot live in this small place.
“Here’s father!" shouted a merry-looking young woman of some twenty years of age.
“Here’s father back before we expected him!" And throwing the door of the cottage wide open as she spoke, Mary Harbury came out to be the first to welcome the traveler.
“Where’s mother, Mary?" said my owner, as he kissed his youngest daughter's rosy cheeks, and looked anxiously toward the entrance.
"Here she is," said Mary, with a cheerful ringing laugh, that seemed to tell of a spirit little troubled with anxiety of any kind. “And here's Betty, and Jinny. All as safe and well as when you left us, father."
“The Lord be praised for that, and all His other mercies," said my new master reverently, as he seated himself in his old arm-chair. “He has never failed us yet, and more than that He never will." Mrs. Harbury was a pleasant-looking old lady. Her face wore a happy smile; and though there were a few wrinkles upon her brow, yet I could not help thinking that if sorrow had ever fallen to her lot it had only sweetened a temper naturally amiable.
The more I heard of the family conversation the more puzzled I became. "Have you had many fresh orders for lace, girls?" asked Mr. Harbury, as his wife poured him out a second cup of tea.
“Not many, dear father," answered Jinny, the eldest of the family. “But we have sold that set of pocket-handkerchiefs we were so anxious about."
“Well done!" said my master. “Work away, my girls. The Lord will provide. I shall like to see what you have done for my travels presently. I must have a few days' rest, and then start off again on my 'rounds.'"
“All in good time, father," said Betty, as she turned the arm-chair away from the window when the meal was over. “Now, if you will come and sit down here you will get a few minutes' sleep, and then we'll show you our work. Will you show us your purchases after? "
“Yes, Betty," replied the old man, as he leaned comfortably back upon a patch-work cushion, and composed himself for a short slumber. How long it seemed while he slept! But I would not have disturbed his slumbers if I could have done so, anxious as I was to be brought out. At last the tired traveler awoke, and when Mrs. Harbury came in she gave the signal to her daughters.
“Now girls," said she in her motherly fashion, " bring the box of lace in for father to see. And may be if there's time, he'll show you the things he has bought in Geneva."
Jinny carried in her hand a small cardboard box containing the lace of which their father had spoken. Mary, the youngest, full of fun, as she followed her elder sisters, was playfully trying to snatch away the lid, in order to be the first to display the contents of the box to her father.
"That's not fair!" said Betty, as she placed her hand upon the top of the lid, just as Mary had succeeded in getting a firm hold of one corner. “Father’s too tired for your freaks to-night, Mary!"
“Never mind, lassies," said Mr. Harbury, as he drew near to the table to examine his daughters' handiwork. “Peace and harmony before our likes and dislikes; isn't it?"
How those three pairs of hands could have made all that delicate-looking lace, I could not imagine! I had previously thought the arrangement of clockwork difficult, but it now seemed easy in comparison to the intricacies of the patterns then lying upon the table. Collars, cuffs, veils and handkerchiefs were all duly admired, and in the corner of each article a small ticket was placed, upon which the price was marked. What could it mean?
“Now, father, for the watches!" said Mrs. Harbury, as the table was once more empty. She little thinks what is in store for her, I thought, as the box in which I had traveled was laid upon the table.
My dear readers, did you ever experience a great disappointment? Have you ever dwelt upon plans which you made for some self-denying undertaking till you grew to consider your schemes as fixed and definite realities? Then, did you ever wake up to the conviction that it would have been just as well, and perhaps wiser and better, if you had never wasted the time in planning at all? If you have ever had to pass through such an experience, I am sure you will sympathize with me in this part of my story.
Scarcely had the drawer in which I was lying been opened, than cries of " Oh, father!" and “What a beauty!" came from the admiring girls. But though Mrs. Harbury admired as much as the others, I could see that she was looking into her husband's face with a half doubtful expression.
"It's all right, wife," said the old man gently, as he evidently read what was passing through her mind. "Mrs. Grahame will buy that one, I feel sure. I should not have chosen such an expensive one for ordinary sale."
"Mrs. Grahame, of Claverton?" asked the wife. "Yes! Last time I was on my rounds, and called there, she told me she wanted a Geneva watch. Though the price is high for a silver watch, yet I think she will give it."
What a mistake I had made! I could have stopped for very mortification at my own ignorance! I was not to be given into the possession of homely Mrs. Harbury after all! The future was no more certain now than when I first quitted the shop window in Geneva.