Holiday House: A Series of Tales

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XVI.

  THE ARRIVAL.

  What is life?----a varied tale, Deeply moving, quickly told.

  Willis.

  "Oh! what a lovely cottage!" exclaimed Laura, in an ecstacy of joy, whenthey stopped before a beautiful house, with large airy windows down tothe ground; walls that seemed one brilliant mass of roses; rich flowerymeadows in front, and a bright smooth lawn behind, stretching down tothe broad bosom of the Thames, which reflected on its glassy surfaceinnumerable boats, filled with gay groups of merry people. "That is sucha place as I have often dreamed of, but never saw before! It seems madefor perfect happiness!"

  "Yes! how delightful to live here with Frank and uncle David!" addedHarry. "We shall be sailing on the water all day!"

  The cottage gate was now opened, and Major Graham himself appeared underthe porch; but instead of hurrying forward, as he always formerly did,to welcome them after the very shortest separation, he stood gravely andsilently at the door, without so much as raising his eyes from theground; and the paleness of his countenance filled both Harry and Laurawith astonishment. They flew to meet him, making an exclamation of joy;but after embracing them affectionately, he did not utter a word, andled the way with hurried and agitated steps into a sitting room.

  "Where is Frank?" exclaimed Harry, looking eagerly round. "Why is he nothere? Call him down! Tell him we are come!"

  A long pause ensued; and Laura trembled when she looked at her uncle,who was some moments before he could speak, and sat down taking each ofthem by the hand, with such a look of sorrow and commiseration, thatthey were filled with alarm.

  "My dear Harry and Laura!" said he solemnly, "you have never known grieftill now, but if you love me, listen with composure. I have sad news totell, yet it is of the very greatest consequence that you should bear upwith fortitude. Frank is extremely ill; and the joy he felt about yourcoming, has agitated him so much, that he is worse than you can possiblyconceive. It probably depends upon your conduct now, whether he survivesthis night or not. Frank knows you are here; he is impatient for you toembrace him; he becomes more and more agitated every moment the meetingis delayed; yet if you give way to childish grief, or even to childishjoy, upon seeing him again, the Doctors think it may cause his immediatedeath. You might hear his breathing in any part of this house. He is inthe lowest extreme of weakness! It will be a dreadful scene for youboth. Tell me, Harry and Laura, can you trust yourselves? Can you, forFrank's own sake, enter his room this moment, as quietly as if you hadseen him yesterday, and speak to him with composure?"

  Laura felt, on hearing these words, as if the very earth had openedunder her feet,--a choking sensation arose in her throat,--her colourfled,--her limbs shook,--her whole countenance became convulsed withanguish,--but making a resolute effort, she looked anxiously at Harry,and then said, in a low, almost inaudible voice,

  "Uncle David! we are able,--God will strengthen us. I dare not think amoment. The sooner it is done the better. Let us go now."

  Major Graham slowly led the way without speaking, till they reach thebed-room door, where he paused for a moment, while Harry and Lauralistened to the gasping sound of Frank struggling for breath.

  "Remember you will scarcely know him," whispered he, looking doubtfullyat Laura's pallid countenance; "but a single expression of emotion maybe fatal. Show your love for Frank now, my dear children. Spare him allagitation,--forget your own feelings for his sake."

  When Harry and Laura entered the room, Frank buried his face in hishands, and leaned them on the table, saying, in convulsive accents, "Goaway, Laura!--oh go away just now! I cannot bear it yet!--leaveme!--leave me!"

  If Laura had been turned into marble at the moment, she could not haveseemed more perfectly calm, for her mind was wound up to an almostsupernatural effort, and advancing to the place where he sat, withoutattempting to speak, she took Frank by the hand--Harry did the same; andnot a sound was heard for some moments, but the convulsive struggles ofFrank himself, while he gasped for breath, and vainly tried to speak,till at length he raised his head and fixed his eyes on Laura, who feltthen, for the first time, struck with the dreadful conviction, that thismeeting was but a prelude to their immediate and final separation. Thepale ashy cheek, the hollow eye, the sharp and altered features, alltold a tale of anguish such as she had never before conceived, and acold tremor passed through her frame, as she stood amazed and bewilderedwith grief, while the past, the present, and the future seemed all onemighty heap of agony. Still she gazed steadily on Frank, and saidnothing, conscious that the smallest indulgence of emotion would bringforth a torrent which nothing could control, and determined, unless herheart ceased to beat, that he should see nothing to increase hisagitation.

  At length, in a low, faint, broken voice, Frank was able to speak, andlooking with affectionate sympathy at Laura, he said, "Do not think,dear sister, that I always suffer as you see me now. This joy has beentoo much for me. I shall soon feel easier."

  Major Graham observed a livid paleness come over Laura's countenancewhen she attempted to answer, and seeing it was impossible to sustainthe trial a moment longer, he made a pretext to hurry her away. Harryinstantly followed, and rushing into a vacant room, he threw himselfdown in an agony of grief, and wept convulsively, till the very bedshook beneath him. Hours passed on, and Major Graham left them toexhaust their grief in weeping together, but every moment seemed only toincrease their agitation, as the conviction became more fearfullycertain that Frank was indeed lost to them for ever. This then was themeeting they had so often, and so joyously anticipated! Laura sunk uponher knees beside Harry, and prayers were mingled with their tears, whilethey asked for consolation, and tried to feel resigned. "Alas!" thoughtshe solemnly, "how truly did grandmama say, 'If the sorrows of thisworld are called 'light afflictions,' what must be those from whichChrist died to save us!' It is merciful that we are not forbid to weep,for, oh! who ever lost such a brother?--the kindest--the best ofbrothers!--dear, dear Frank!--can nothing be done! Uncle David!" addedLaura, clinging to Major Graham, when he entered the room, "oh! saysomething to us about Frank getting better,--do you think he will? Maywe have a hope?--one single hope to live upon, that Frank may possiblybe spared; do not turn away--do not look so very sad--think how youngFrank is,--and the Doctors are so skilful--and--and oh, uncle David! heis dying! I see it! I must believe it!" continued she, wringing herhands with grief. "You cannot give us one word of hope, though the wholeworld would be nothing without him."

  "My dear,--my very dear Laura! remember that consoling text in holyScripture, 'Be still, and know that I am God;'--we have no idea what Hecan do in saving us from sorrow, or in comforting us when it comes,therefore let us seek peace from Him, and believe that all shall indeedbe ordered well, even though our own hearts were to be broken withaffliction. Frank has seen old nurse Crabtree, and is now in arefreshing sleep, therefore I wish you to take the opportunity ofsitting in his room, and accustoming yourselves, if possible, to thesight of his altered appearance. He is sometimes very cheerful, andalways patient, therefore we must keep up our own spirits, and try toassist him in bearing his sufferings, rather than increase them, byshowing what we feel ourselves. I was pleased with you both thismorning--that meeting was no common effort, and now we must show oursubmission to the Divine will, difficult as that may be, by a deep,heartfelt resignation to whatever He ordains."

  Harry and Laura still felt stupified with grief, but they mechanicallyfollowed Major Graham into Frank's room, and sat down in a distantcorner behind his chair, observing with awe and astonishment his pallidcountenance, his emaciated hands, and his drooping figure, whilescarcely yet able to believe that this was indeed their own belovedFrank. After they had remained immoveably still for some time, thoughshedding many bitter tears, as they gazed on the wreck of one so verydear, he suddenly started awake, and glanced anxiously round the room,then with a look of deep disappointment, he said to uncle David, in low,feeble accents,


  "It was only a dream! I have often dreamed the same thing, when far awayat sea,--that would have been too much happiness! I fancied Harry andLaura were here!"

  "It was no dream, dear Frank! we are here," said Laura, trying to speakin a quiet, subdued voice.

  "My dear sister! then all is well! but pray sit always where I can seeyou. After wishing so long for our meeting, it appears nearly impossiblethat we are together at last."

  Frank became exhausted with speaking so much, but pointed to a seat nearhimself, where Harry and Laura sat down, after which he gazed at themlong and earnestly, with a look of affectionate pleasure, while hissmile, which had lost all its former cheerfulness, was now full oftenderness and sensibility. At length his countenance gradually changed,while large tears gathered in his eyes, and coursed each other silentlydown his cheeks. Thoughts of the deepest sadness seemed passing throughhis mind during some moments, but checking the heavy sigh that rose inhis breast, he riveted his hands together, and looked towards heavenwith an expression of placid submission, saying these words in ascarcely audible tone, though evidently addressed to those around,

  "Weeping endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." "We knowthat if our earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we have abuilding of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.""Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him; _but_ weep sore for himthat goeth away: for he shall return no more, nor see his nativecountry."[1]

  [1] Jeremiah xxii. 10.

  These words fell upon the ear of Harry and Laura like a knell of death,for they now saw that Frank himself believed he was dying, and itappeared as if their last spark of hope expired when they heard thisterrible dispensation announced from his own lips. He seemed anxious nowthat they should understand his full meaning, and receive all theconsolation which his mind could afford, for he closed his eyes, andadded in solemn accents,

  "I must have died at some time, and why not now? If I leave friends whoare very dear on earth, I go to my chief best friend in heaven. Thewhole peace and comfort of my mind rest on thinking of our Saviour'smerits. Let us all be ready to say, 'the will of the Lord be done.'Think often, Harry and Laura, of those words we so frequently repeatedto grandmama formerly:

  'Take comfort, Christians, when your friends In Jesus fall asleep, Their better being never ends, Why then dejected weep?

  Why inconsolable as those To whom no hope is given? Death is the messenger of peace, And calls 'my' soul to Heaven.'"

  Frank's voice failed, his head fell back upon the pillows, and heremained for a length of time, with his eyes closed in solemn meditationand prayer, while Laura and Harry, unable so much as to look at eachother, leaned upon the table, and wept in silence.

  Laura felt as if she had grown old in a moment,--as if life could giveno more joy--and as if she herself stood already on the verge of thegrave. It appeared like a dream that she had ever been happy, and adreadful reality to which she was now awakened. "Behold, God takethaway! who can hinder him? who will say unto him, What doest thou?""Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils." These were textswhich forced themselves on her mind, with mournful emphasis, while shefelt how helpless is earthly affection when the dispensations of Godare upon us. All her love for Frank could not avert the stroke ofdeath,--all his attachment to her must now be buried in the grave,--andthe very tenderness they felt for each other, only embittered thesorrows of this dreadful moment.

  From that day, Harry and Laura, according to the advice of uncle David,testified their affection for Frank, not by tears and uselesslamentations, though these were not always to be controlled in private,but by the incessant, devoted attention with which they watched hislooks, anticipated his wishes, and thought every exertion a pleasurewhich could in the slightest degree contribute to his comfort. Frank, onhis part, spared their feelings, by often concealing what he suffered,and by speaking of his own death, as if it had been a journey on whichhe must prepare with readiness to enter, reminding them, that never todie, was never to be happy, as all they saw him endure from sickness,became nothing to what he endured from struggling against sin andtemptation, which were the great evils of existence,--and that from allthese he would be for ever freed by death. "Those who are prepared forthe change," added he, solemnly, "can neither live too long, nor die toosoon; for when God gives us His blessing, He then sends heaven, as itwere, into the soul before the soul ascends to heaven; and I trust tobeing gifted with faith and submission for all that may be ordainedduring my few remaining hours upon earth."

  Yet, with every desire to feel resigned, Frank himself was sometimessurprised out of his usual fortitude, especially when thinking that hemust never more hope to see Lady Harriet, towards whom he cast many alonging and affecting thought, saying once, with deep emotion, "If Icould only see grandmama again, I should feel quite well!" One evening,as he sat near an open window, gazing on the rich tints of twilight, andbreathing with more than usual ease, a wandering musician paused withher guitar, and sung several airs with great pathos and expression. Atlength she played the tune of "Home! sweet home," to which Franklistened for some moments with intense agitation, till, clasping hishands and bursting into tears, he exclaimed, in accents of powerfulemotion,

  "Home! That happy home! Oh! never--never more,--_my_ home is in thegrave."

  Laura wept convulsively while he added in broken accents, "I shall stillbe remembered--still lamented--you must not love me too well,Laura,--not as I love you, or your sorrow would be too great; but longhence, when Harry and you are happy together, surrounded with friends,think sometimes of one who must for ever be absent,--who loved youbetter than them all,--whose last prayer will be for you both. Oh! whocan tell what my feelings are! I can do nothing now but cause distressand anguish to those who love me best!"

  "Frank, I would not exchange your affection for the wealth of worlds. Aslong as I live, it will be my greatest earthly happiness to have hadsuch a brother; and if we are to suffer a sorrow that I cannot name, anddare not think of, you are teaching me how to bear it, and leaving usthe only comfort we can have, in knowing that you are happy."

  "Many plans and many hopes I had for the future, Laura," added Frank;"but there is no future to me now in this world. Perhaps I may escape amultitude of sorrows, but how gladly would I have shared all yours, andensured my best happiness by uniting with Harry and you in living toGod. If you both learn more by my death than by my life, then, indeed, Ido rejoice. With respect to myself, it matters but little a few years orhours sooner, for I may say, in the words of Job, 'though He slay me,yet will I trust in Him.'"

  Frank's sufferings increased every day, and became so very great atlast, that the Doctor proposed giving him strong doses of laudanum, tobring on a stupor and allay the pain; but when this was mentioned tohim, he said, "I know it is my duty to take whatever you prescribe, andI certainly shall, but if we can do without opiates, let me entreat youto refrain from them. Often formerly at sea I used to think it very sadhow few of those I attended in sickness were allowed by the physician todie in possession of their senses, on account of being made to takelaudanum, which gave them false spirits and temporary ease. Let meretain my faculties as long as they are mercifully granted to me. I canbear pain,--at least, God grant me strength to do so,--but I cannotwillingly enter the presence of my Creator in a state little short ofintoxication."

  Many days of agony followed this resolution on the part of Frank, butthough the medicine, which would have brought some hours of oblivion,lay within reach, he persevered in wishing to preserve hisconsciousness, whatever suffering it might cost; and though now and thena prayer for bodily relief was wrung from him in his acute agony, themost frequent and fervent supplications that he uttered night and daywere, in an accent of intense emotion, "God have mercy upon my soul."

  Harry and Laura were surprised to find the fields and walks near Londonso very rural and beautiful as they appeared at Hammersmith, and to meetwith much more simplicity and kindness among the c
ommon people than theyhad anticipated. The poorer neighbours, who became aware of theiraffliction, testified a degree of sympathy which frequently astonishedthem, and was often afterwards remembered with pleasure, one instance ofwhich seemed peculiarly touching to Laura. Frank always suffered mostacutely during the night, and seldom closed his eyes in sleep tillmorning, therefore she invariably remained with him, to beguile thoseweary hours, while any remonstrance on his part against so fatiguing aduty, became a mere waste of words, as she only grew sadder and paler,saying, there would be time enough to take care of herself when shecould no longer be of use to him. The earliest thing that gave anyrelief to Frank's cough every day, generally was, a tumbler of milk,warm from the cow, which had been ordered for him, and was broughtalmost as soon as the dawn of light. Once, when Frank had been unusuallyill, and sighed in restless agony till morning, Laura watchedimpatiently for day, and when the milkman was seen, at six o'clock,slowly trudging through the fields, and advancing leisurely towards thehouse, Laura hurried eagerly down to meet him, exclaiming in accents ofjoy, while she held out the tumbler, "Oh! I am so glad you are come atlast!"

  "At last, Miss!! I am as early as usual!" replied he, gruffly. "It's notmany poor folks that gets up so soon to their work, and if you had tolabour as hard as me all day, you would maybe think the morning came toosoon."

  "I am seldom in bed all night," answered Laura, sadly. "My poor sickbrother cannot rest till this milk is brought, and I wait with him, hourafter hour till daylight, wearying for you to come."

  The old dairyman looked with sorrowful surprise at Laura, while she,thinking no more of what had passed, hurried away; but next morning,when sitting up again with Frank, she became surprised to observe themilkman a whole hour earlier than usual, plodding along towards hiscattle at a peculiarly rapid pace. He stayed not more than five minutes,only milking one cow, though all the others gathered round him, and assoon as he had filled his little pail, he came straight toward MajorGraham's cottage, and knocked at the door. Laura instantly ran down tothank him with her whole heart for his kind attention, after which, aslong as Frank continued ill, the old dairyman rose long before his usualtime, to bring this welcome refreshment.

  Frank desired Laura to beg that he would not take so much trouble, orelse to insist on his accepting some remuneration, but the old man wouldneither discontinue the custom, nor receive any recompense.

  "Let me see this kind good dairyman, to thank him myself," said Frank,one night, when he felt rather easier; and next morning, Laura invitedpoor Teddy Collins to walk up stairs, who looked exceedingly astonished,though very much pleased at the proposal, saying, "May be, Ma'am, thepoor young gentleman would not like to see a stranger like me!"

  "No one is a stranger who feels for him as you have done," repliedLaura, leading the way, and Frank's countenance lighted up with a smileof pleasure when they entered his room. He held out his thin emaciatedhand to Teddy, who looked earnestly and sorrowfully in his face as hegrasped hold of it, saying, "You look very poorly, Sir! I'm afraid,indeed, you are sadly ill."

  "That I am! as ill as any one can be on this side of eternity! My taleis told, my days are numbered; but I would not go out of this worldwithout saying how grateful we both feel for your attention. As a cup ofcold water given in Christian kindness shall hereafter be rewarded, Itrust also that your attention to me may not be forgotten."

  "You are heartily welcome, Sir! It is a great honour for a poor old manlike me to oblige anybody. I shall not long be able for work now, seeingthat I am upwards of threescore and ten, and my days are already full oflabour and sorrow."

  "To both of us, then, the night is far spent, and the day is at hand,"replied Frank--"How strange it seems, that, old as you are. I am stillolder; my feeble frame will be sooner worn out, and my body laid at restin the grave! Let me hope that you have already applied your heart towisdom, for every child of earth must, sooner or later, find how shortis every thing but eternity. While I appear before you here as aspectacle of mortality, think how soon and how certainly you mustfollow. May you then find, as I do, that even in the last extreme ofsickness and sorrow, there is comfort in looking forward to suchblessings as 'eye hath not seen, nor ear heard.' Farewell, my kindfriend! In this world we shall meet no more, but there is another and abetter."

  The old man, apparently unwilling to withdraw, paused for some momentsafter Frank had ceased to speak. He muttered a few inaudible words inreply, and then slowly and sorrowfully left the room, while Frank's headsunk languidly on the pillows, and Laura retired to her room, where, asusual, she wept herself to sleep.

  When Harry and Laura first arrived at Hammersmith, Frank felt anxiousthat they should walk out every day for the benefit of their health; butfinding that each made frequent excuses for remaining constantly withhim at home, he invented a plan which induced them to take exerciseregularly.

  Being early in June, strawberries were yet so exceedingly rare, thatthey could scarcely be had for any money; but the Doctor had allowed hispatient to eat fruit. Frank asked his two young attendants to wanderabout in quest of gardens where a few strawberries could be got, and tobring him some. Accordingly, they set out one morning; and after a long,unsuccessful search, at last observed a small green-house near the road,with one little basket in the window, scarcely larger than a thimble,containing two or three delicious King seedlings, perfectly ripe. Thesewere to be sold for five shillings; but hardly waiting to ascertain theprice, Laura seized this welcome prize with delight, and paid for it onthe spot. Every morning afterwards, her regular walk was to hasten withHarry towards this pretty little shop, where they talked to the gardenerabout poor Frank being so very ill, and told him that this fine fruitwas wanted for their sick brother at home.

  One day the invalid seemed so much worse than usual, that neither Harrynor Laura could bear to leave him a moment; so they requested Mrs.Crabtree to fetch the strawberries, which she readily agreed to do; buton drawing out her purse in the shop, and saying that she came to buythat little basket of fruit at the window, what was her astonishmentwhen the gardener looked civil and sorry, answering that he would notsell those strawberries if she offered him a guinea a-piece.

  "No!" exclaimed Mrs. Crabtree, getting into a rage; "then what do youput them up at the window for? There is no use pretending to keep ashop, if you will not sell what is in it! Give me these strawberriesthis minute, and here's your five shillings!"

  "It's quite impossible," replied the gardener, holding back the basket."You see, ma'am, every day last week a little Master and Miss came tothis here shop, buying my strawberries for a young gentleman who is veryill; and they look both so sweet and so mournful-like, that I would notdisappoint them for all the world. They seem later to-day than usual,and are, may be, not coming at all; but if I lose my day's profits, itcan't be helped. They shall not walk here for nothing, if they please tocome!"

  When Mrs. Crabtree explained that she belonged to the same family asHarry and Laura, the gardener looked hard at her to see if she wereattempting to deceive him; but feeling convinced that she spoke thetruth, he begged her to carry off the basket to his young friends,positively refusing to take the price.