Carolina Lee

by Lilian Bell

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE BLIND BABY

  The same terrible suspicion which had entered Aunt Angie La Grange'smind when she overheard Flower's innocent words had occurred toCarolina, and as there seemed to be one of those sudden new-born bondsof sympathy between the beautiful old woman and the beautiful younggirl, which sometimes spring into existence without warning, yet withgood reason, as afterwards transpires, Carolina was not surprised tohave Aunt Angie draw her aside after supper and say:

  "Carolina, child, what did you think when you heard what Flower saidabout little Arthur?"

  "I thought just what you thought, Aunt Angie, at first, then--"

  "Then what?"

  "Nothing."

  "Now, Carol, you were going to say something! What was it? I am surethe thought that I am a comparative stranger to you stopped the words onyour lips."

  "I am afraid that you wouldn't understand what I was going to say, AuntAngie, dear, and I don't want to antagonize you. I like you too much."

  "Dear child, nothing that your silver tongue could utter couldantagonize me after your sweet generosity to my daughter this afternoon.Oh, Carol, don't you think my mother-heart aches at not being able todress my pretty girl in such fairy fabrics as you showed us? And thento think of your giving her that pink silk! Why, Peachie won't sleep awink for a week, and I doubt if her mother does, either! Now she can goto the Valentine German in Savannah. You must go, too. I will arrangeit. I--but my tongue is running away with me. Tell me what you weregoing to say."

  "Well," said Carolina, hesitatingly, "you have heard that I am aChristian Scientist, haven't you?"

  "Yes, dear, I have, and I must say that I deeply regret it. Not that Iknow anything about it, but--"

  "That's the way every one feels who doesn't know about it," criedCarolina, earnestly; "but that is nothing but prejudice which will wearaway. Indeed, indeed it will, Aunt Angie."

  Mrs. La Grange shook her head.

  "I am a dyed-in-the-wool Presbyterian, and I've fought, bled, and diedfor my religion in a family who believe that God created the Church ofEngland first and then turned His attention to the creation of theearth, so you can't expect me to welcome a new fad, can you, my dear?But I beg your pardon, Carol. What were you going to say?"

  "It was only this," said Carolina, gently. "That even if Flower's babyis blind to mortal sight, he is not blind in God's eyes. There he isperfect, for God, who is Incarnate Love, never created a blind or dumbbaby."

  Tears rushed suddenly to the old woman's eyes.

  "Are you thinking of poor little Teddy Fitzhugh?" she whispered.

  "Yes, I was."

  "Oh, Carolina! If you could have seen his mother's anguish all theseyears! But you would have to be a mother yourself before you could evenapprehend it."

  "Yes, I suppose I would."

  "And now," said the older woman, with that patient tightening of thelips with which so many Christian women prepare themselves to bear theheart-breaking calamities which they believe a tender Heavenly Fatherinflicts on those He loves, "I suppose I must steel my heart to see poorFlower writhe under a worse agony. Indeed, Carol, God's ways are hardto understand."

  "Yes, God is such a peculiar sort of parent," observed Carolina. "Heseems to do things with impunity, which if an earthly father did, theneighbours would lynch him."

  Aunt Angie La Grange sat up with a spring of fright.

  "Why, Carolina Lee! What sacrilege! You will certainly be punished byan avenging God for such blasphemy. You shock me, Carolina. You reallydo."

  "Forgive me, Aunt Angie. I only meant to imply that the God I believein is a God of such love that He never sends anything but good to Hischildren."

  "Then how do you get around that saying, 'Whom the Lord loveth Hechasteneth?'"

  "There is authority for translating that word 'chasteneth,''instructeth.' But even if you leave it 'chasteneth,' it doesn't mean alife-long disfigurement or crippling of innocent babies. SupposingPeachie should disobey you, or even disgrace you, would you deliberatelyinfect her with smallpox to destroy her beauty or send her into a trainwreck to lame her or paralyze for life?"

  Mrs. La Grange only looked into Carolina's eyes for reply, but her handsgripped the arms of her chair until her nails were white.

  "Yet you are only her earthly--her human--her finite mother. How muchgreater capacity has the Infinite Heart for love!"

  Mrs. La Grange stirred restlessly.

  "It is beautiful," she breathed, "but--disquieting. It upsets all my oldbeliefs."

  "'And good riddance to bad rubbish,' as we children used to say," saidCarolina, smiling. Aunt Angie smiled in answer, but a trifle dubiously.

  "Carolina," she said, "Moultrie told me--but of course you never saidsuch a thing and I told him then that he must have misunderstoodyou--that Gladys Yancey was cured by Christian Science! Now, what _did_you say?"

  "I said just that. She _was_ cured by Christian Science."

  "I don't believe it!" cried Aunt Angie. "Excuse me, dear child, forsaying so. I know that you are truthful and that you believe it, but_I_ don't. I'd have to see it done."

  "If you saw Teddy Fitzhugh taught to speak plainly, would you believe?"

  "My dear, I'd leave the Presbyterian Church and join the ChristianScientists so quickly my church letter would be torn by the way I'dsnatch it."

  Carolina laughed and squeezed Aunt Angie's hand, who added with a smile:

  "I suppose you think I am as good as caught already, don't you?"

  "I hope you are. You can't imagine how much peace it brings."

  "Peace! It's something I never have had, child."

  "Nor I. But I have it now."

  "What does your religion compel you to give up? Peachie absolutelyrefuses to join the church because it won't allow dancing, and the childloves to dance better than anything in the world. They tell me, too,that she dances like a fairy." Aunt Angie pronounced it "fayry."

  "Why, that is one of the best things about Christian Science. Itrequires you to give up no innocent pleasure. It only cautions oneagainst indulging to excess in anything. Dancing, card-playing,games,--why, some of the best card-players I know are ChristianScientists, but they don't lose their tempers when they lose a game andthey don't cheat to win. In fact, one of the most graceful things Ihave ever seen done was when two ladies tied for the prize--a beautifulgold vase--at a bridge party Addie gave just before she closed herhouse, and the lady who won had played coolly, well, and won by merit.The other flung herself back in her chair with an exclamation, showingby her suffused face and clenched hands every sign of ill-temper. Mysister-in-law brought the prize to the winner, who, with the prettiestgrace imaginable, thanked her and then presented it, by Addie'spermission, to the vexed lady who had lost. You should have seen therecipient's face! Surprise, humiliation, and cupidity struggled almostaudibly for supremacy. She protested feebly, but ended by taking it. Anumber of others gathered around, attracted by the unusual scene, andsuddenly the owner of the vase said to the giver of it: 'I would like toknow what church you go to.' 'Well, as none of you know, you mayguess,' she answered. They guessed Baptist, Methodist, Unitarian,Episcopal, and finally the recipient of the vase said: 'No, you are allwrong. I believe she is a Christian Scientist, because no one but aChristian Scientist would give up a gold vase!'"

  "I like that," said Aunt Angie, promptly. "And I think the churchesmake a mistake in forbidding innocent pleasures. Oh, why don't theydwell on the good instead of squabbling over the bad?"

  "You have described one of the chief differences between the ChristianScience and the other churches," cried Carolina. "Why, Aunt Angie, youare a ready-made Scientist!"

  "Am I? Well, we shall see. Now tell me when you can go to see Flower.Was Moultrie able to buy Araby for you?"

  "No, Mr. Mazyck refused to sell her. But Moultrie has lent me Scintillauntil he can find another good horse for me
."

  "But you especially wanted Araby, didn't you?"

  "Yes, because she is a direct descendant of the sire of my grandfather'sfavourite saddle-horse. And she is simply perfect, Aunt Angie."

  "I am afraid Barney Mazyck is hopeless. If he wants a thing, he wantsit and is going to keep it."

  "I know; but I have not despaired of getting her yet. Perhaps I am justas bent upon getting her as Mr. Barnwell Mazyck is upon keeping her."

  "And in that case--"

  "Well, I wouldn't put any money on Mr. Mazyck!" laughed Carolina.

  In the slight pause which ensued, Carolina could see that Mrs. La Grangewas ill at ease. Suddenly she turned to the girl and said:

  "My dear, doubtless you think it strange that I do not know beyond adoubt the state of my own little grandson's sight, but--"

  "I know," said Carolina, gently. "I have heard."

  "Who told you? Some stranger?"

  "No, Moultrie told me."

  "Ah, then you have heard the truth! It is a terrible grief to us,Carolina. Think of the child! I do not know who my own grandson isdescended from!"

  "But you will know," said Carolina, earnestly. "And soon. I--we have aright to expect God's harmony in our lives."

  Mrs. La Grange looked at her curiously, but only said, with a sigh:

  "I am sure I hope you may be right."

  It was arranged that Carolina was to meet Mrs. La Grange at Flower's thenext afternoon at three o'clock.

  "Can't you go in the morning?" asked Mrs. La Grange.

  "I have an appointment with the architect from Charleston and thebuilders at Guildford at ten. We wouldn't get through in time, I amafraid, for there will be so much to discuss."

  "Won't you be too tired?"

  "I never get tired. There is rest in action for me."

  Mrs. La Grange shook her head, but not in disapproval.

  "I hope I am going to like it. If I like all of it as well as I do thesample bits you have fed me with, I think, as you say, you may find thatI have been a Scientist all my life without knowing it."

  Mrs. La Grange looked into the girl's pure, beautiful facescrutinizingly, as if to learn her secret of happiness, and, as she didso, she was surprised to see it suffused by a blush which rose indelicate waves to her hair. Looking about in surprise for a cause, Mrs.La Grange saw her son Moultrie approaching. Could Carolina haverecognized his step without seeing him, and was that blush for Moultrie?

  The question could not be answered at once, nor did she see themtogether the next day, for Carolina was late in keeping her appointment,and, by the time she arrived, the awful truth was known. Mrs. La Grangehad been so overcome that Moultrie was obliged to take her home.

  The moment Carolina rode up to the house, she knew that something hadhappened. The house, a mere cabin, was ominously quiet, and no one cameto meet her.

  She dismounted hurriedly, fastened Scintilla to the fence, and ran upthe steps. No one answered her knock. She pushed open the door andentered.

  At first she saw no one, but presently she heard heavy breathing, and,crouching on the floor, in the darkest corner of the room, she sawFlower, holding the still form of her baby in her arms. Her posture andthe glare in her eyes were tigerish.

  With a low cry, Carolina sprang to her side.

  "Oh, Flower, darling! What is the matter with your baby?"

  "You may take him," said Flower, dully. "You care! You caredyesterday. I can tell. She only cares because Arthur is a La Grange.You will care just because he a helpless little blind baby. Oh! oh!"

  "Not blind, Flower! Don't say it. Don't think it. Your baby sees."

  "No, Cousin Carol. You are good and kind, but Mrs. La Grange made mesee for myself. We took a candle and held it so close to his eyes wenearly burned his little face--"

  "You?" cried Carolina. "Were you in the room?"

  "That's what Moultrie said, but you don't either of you know. When youhave a child of your own, you will both understand that a mother can'tkeep away. She must know the worst, and she must be there when ithappens."

  "Oh, poor Flower! Poor child!" cried Carolina, weeping unrestrainedly.She cuddled the baby's face in her neck, and Flower watched herapathetically. Flower's face was suffused from stormy weeping, but shehad wept herself out.

  "And you had to bear this all alone, poor lamb!"

  "I wanted to be alone! I wanted her to go. They meant to be kind, butthey don't love me, and they don't love my little baby. I would ratherbe alone. Who could I send for--the priest? When he predicted it?"

  "What did he predict?" asked Carolina, quickly.

  "He was very angry because we went to New York to be married. He lostfifty dollars by it. That is what he charges even poor people like me.And because I married a heretic, and because I was not married by apriest, he cursed me and my offspring. Then--" she broke off suddenlyand cried: "Oh, why do I tell it all? Why do I trust even you?"

  "Because you know that I can help you," said Carolina, gravely.

  "No one can help me--not even God!"

  "Say what you were going to," urged Carolina.

  "Well, the child is bewitched. Every time there is a thunder-storm, orif I am even left alone with the baby, like to-day, when I let AuntTempy have her afternoon--there she is now!"

  With a shriek of terror she pointed to the window, and Carolina lookedjust in time to see a dark face disappear from view. She ran to thedoor, but nothing could be seen. Not a sound could be heard.

  "It is the voodoo!" whispered Flower. "That face always comes. Once Isaw it in the room, bending over the cradle when the baby was asleep.But I never can catch her. Aunt Tempy has seen her, so has Winfield.She has cast an evil spirit over my baby."

  "Her face looked kind--it even looked worried," thought Carolina toherself, but she said nothing to Flower. She only sat rocking thesleeping baby, wiping the tears which rolled down her cheeks at thesight of the mother's anguish.

  "Flower," she said, suddenly, "did you ever see Gladys Yancey beforeMiss Sue took her North?"

  "Heaps of times."

  "Did you ever hear how she was cured?"

  "Why, Moultrie told Winfield that it was a new kind of religion that didit, and Winfield just hollered and laughed."

  "Well, if I could prove to you that your baby could be made to see,would you holler and laugh?"

  "I reckon I wouldn't. I'd kiss your feet."

  "The only trouble," murmured Carolina, half to herself, "is that you area Roman Catholic. We do not like to interfere with them."

  "I am not a Roman Catholic," said Flower. "The lady who brought me up,and whom I was taught to believe was my aunt, was a Catholic, but Inever was baptized. I believe Father Hennessey knows who I am, andthat, if he would, he could clear up the mystery of my birth and give meback my happiness. But he never will until I join his church. He toldme so."

  "Is he an old man?" asked Carolina.

  "Oh, a very old man. He must be over eighty,"

  A slight pause ensued. Then Carolina said: "Would you like to hear ofthis new religion?"

  "If it will give my baby eyes, Cousin Carolina, how can you even stop toask?"

  "Oh, my dear, it is only because we are taught to go cautiously,--to besure our help is wanted before we offer."

  "Well, offer it to me. I want your help with all my soul!"

  She rose from her corner and came and sat at Carolina's feet. Somethingof Carolina's sincerity, which always appealed to people, moved her tobelieve that Carolina could help her. Flower's mind, too, though it maysound like an anomaly, had been trained by her aunt's Catholicism tobelieve in signs and wonders, and her superstitions had been carefullyeducated. Therefore, when a more analytical mind might have hesitatedto believe that material help for a supposed hopeless affliction couldcome from religion, instead of from a knife or a drug, which even themost skeptical may see and handle and thus believe, Flower, by her verychildishness, held up a receptive mind for the plant
ing of the seed ofan immortal truth.

  The gravity of the situation caused Carolina a moment's wrestle witherror. The burning eyes of the young mother fastened on Carolina's facewith such agonizing belief,--the feeble flutterings of the sleeping babyin her arms terrified her for a brief second. Then she lifted her heartto the boundless source of supply for every human need, and in a momentshe felt quieted and could begin.

  "Flower," she said, "do you believe in God?"

  "Of course I do."

  "Did you ever read your Bible?"

  "No."

  "Have you one?"

  "No."

  "Will you promise to read it if I will give you one?"

  "I will do whatever you want me to."

  Carolina hesitated a moment.

  "Will your husband object to your trying Christian Science with thebaby?"

  "I don't know--yes, I suppose he will. What shall we do?"

  "What will he want to do when he first learns that the baby is blind?"

  "I reckon he'll want to have Doctor Dodge see him."

  "There is no objection to that. Then what will he do?"

  "There isn't anything we can do just now, Cousin Carol. We have had adreadful time even to live since we were married. And look what ashanty we live in! Not fit for a negro. And Winfield a La Grange! Ofcourse, if the crops are better next year we might be able to take himaway to consult some big doctor, but this winter we can't do anything atall."

  "I don't know what to do," said Carolina. "You ought to get yourhusband's consent first."

  "Well, what do you want me to do? Does your treatment commence rightaway?"

  "It is already begun."

  "Why, how? You haven't done anything that I could see. Do you pray?"

  "Not to any virgin or saint, Flower."

  "No, I know that Protestants pray to God. Is that what you want me todo?"

  "I want you first to have a talk with Winfield and Moultrie--"

  "Moultrie will help me!" interrupted Flower. "I'll ask him to talk toWinfield."

  "Well, do that. Then if he says you may try it, I want you not to tellanother soul, especially don't let Aunt Tempy or any of the negroes knowa word about it. I want you to get up about twelve o'clock every nightand light your candle, and put it where it shines directly in the baby'seyes. It can't hurt him. Then read the whole of the NewTestament,--just as much every night as you can for one hour, believingthat everything which was true of Jesus and His disciples then, can beand is true of His disciples on earth to-day, and that, if any one of uscould ever be as pure and holy as He was, that we could do the one thingwhich is denied us yet,--that is, raise the dead! Will you?"

  "Indeed, I will."

  "Then every night I will treat your baby's eyes by mind-healing, which Iwill explain to you a little later. In the meantime, you watch veryclosely to see the first indication which Arthur's eyes give of thelight's making him stir, for that will show that his darkness is liftingand that he is beginning to see."

  Flower raised herself up and clung to Carolina's knees and buried herface in her dress, weeping bitterly.

  "Oh, oh! Don't think I am unhappy. I am crying because I think you cando it. How long will it take?"

  "No one can say. It may only take one treatment, or it may take years.'According to your faith be it unto you.'"

  Just then, as Carolina rose to go, the baby wakened, and Flower reachedfor him and pressed him to her bosom in a passion of grief and hope.

  "Look!" she whispered to Carolina, "you can tell from the veryexpression of his little eyes that he can't see. I remember now thatonce the sun was shining right into his eyes, and he kept them open, butI didn't notice it at the time."

  "Remember this, Flower. We think that he can't see. But in God's eyeshe is perfect. With Him there is no blindness nor sickness nor sin norsorrow. He will take away your grief. He will wipe away all tears fromyour eyes."