Seed-time and Reaping. A tale

Front matter

SEED-TIME AND REAPING. 1 -Œale. BY HELEN PATERSON. " Thrice happy they that sow in tears, To reap in joy and love ; They drop their seed on earth below, And find their sheaves above." fjCoribfln : SAMUEL TINSLEY, 10, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND. 1877. (All rights reserved. ) NOTICE. After this Work had been all printed off it was discovered that the Title originally chosen, "SOWING AND REAPING," was copyright. Hence the present alteration, the necessity of which is much regretted.

Chapter I

" O child of hope and gladness ! Cease not thy childish joy, For soon — too soon— life's sadness Thy pleasure shall alloy." Anon. One seldom saw a smaller child for her age than was little Nellie Bernard, in her eleventh year ; and yet her brother was constantly telling her that she was the " biggest baby" he had ever seen. Nellie loved that only brother with a ten der, reverent affection ; she clung to him as to a parent, and looked up to him as to some superior being. And well he deserved and repaid her ardent devotion. He was father, I mother, and brother in one to the orphan child ; for before Nellie had completed her fourth year she had been deprived of a mother's care, and another twelvemonth had seen her father also laid low in the green churchyard. Herbert Bernard was then at the Univer sity, and another year must elapse before he could take Holy Orders, as he intended.

What to do with his little sister in the meantime puzzled him sorely, for it was im possible to keep her with him, yet she was too young for a boarding-school. Mr. Bernard's only sister would have offered her niece a home, but her own children were then suffering from fever of a very aggravated and infectious kind. In the midst of this perplexity a friend was raised up in the person of Mr. Russell, the Vicar of Beechdale, who not only made, him self the temporary guardian of the little girl, but offered her brother the curacy of Beech dale as soon as he was in a position to accept it. There the young clergyman had resided for the last four years, undertaking the entire charge and education of his sister, devoting to her alone all the time that he could spare from his parish work ; faithfully fulfilling his duty towards her as elder and only brother from day to day, and finding an ever-increasing delight in her companion ship as she learnt, little by little, to take deeper interest in the pursuits to which his vocation called him.

Those four years were very peaceful, happy ones ; but now, once again clouds of perplexity and doubt were gathering thick around. Mr. Russell fell ill and died in a few days. His curate knew that he must shortly leave Beechdale, as the Vicar's successor was a young and active man, who had no need of assistance in the work which Beechdale supplied. If it had not been for Nellie, her brother would not have hesitated a moment in ac cepting the curacy which was next offered him, in a densely crowded part of London. He was an earnest follower of Him who sacrificed His whole life to doing good, who thought not of His own ease and enjoyment, but resigned home and dear friends in ful filling the work His Father gave Him to do. i — But Herbert could not make up his mind to send his little sister to school, as his ac quaintances advised him to do, though her health would probably suffer in the confined atmosphere of the city, if he took her with him.

He was indeed in great doubt how he ought to act, and many a time he was on the point of refusing the post, when the words, " He that loveth brother or sister more than Me, is not worthy of Me," rose up in his mind and deterred him. Nellie was of a trusting nature, and though she knew that her brother was in doubt how he should act, she did not trouble herself much about their future. The thought of separation never entered her mind, and she said in her child-like simplicity : " God will show Herbert what he oucjht to do. I wish we had not to leave Beechdale," she said to herself, as she sat rocking on one of the low boughs of an apple-tree, a book in her hand, but a very absent look on her little face. " I know we shan't go anywhere else so pretty as this ; but Herbert says we can't stay here for many reasons.

I don't believe I should take any hurt in London, though it would not be half so pleasant certainly — but then Herbert says I should, and he must know ; and he would not be able to spend half so much time with me either. I do wonder what he will do !" She lay back as far as she could venture without tumbling over, and looked up into the green foliage with here and there a bit of blue sky peeping between. The birds were hopping about the branches, fearless of the quiet child below, and the distant murmur of a brook made pleasant music through the still summer air. " Our Father takes care of all these little birds," thought Nellie; "how much more will He take care of me. I must wait and see what He will find for us to do ; it's sure to be all right whatever it is. I wish Her bert would come ; I shall never know this grammar unless he explains these new rules ; and he promised to go on with the history to-day.

I suppose he is stopping to read his letters, for I saw the postman bringing some." She sat up again, and looked towards the house, from which she saw her brother issuing, an open letter in his hand, and walking with a slow, unwilling step. She ran to meet him, but the trouble in his expressive face checked her childish joy, and she asked, half shyly : " Dear Herbert, is anything the matter ?" " Come back to your shady seat, Nell," he replied, " and I will tell you all about it. Nothing is the matter exactly, only — well, come and hear it." They sat down on a grassy bank, and the child nestled eagerly up against her brother. " This letter is from your aunt," he began ; " from our father's sister. She has heard that we must leave Beechdale, and that I should remove to London if it were not for you, my child, and she writes to offer you a home amongst your cousins, which if you accept, she will undertake your future education and look upon you in the light of a daughter.

May I accept, Nellie ?" " And leave you, Herbert ? Oh ! I can not — I will not leave you ! Oh ! Herbert, don't send me away !" The little girl threw herself upon her brother, and sobbed bitterly; the thought of separation from him was worse to her than that of death. " I should hate my aunt and cousins," she cried passionately ; " I should hate any one who took me away from you !" " Hush !" said Herbert quietly but firmly. "Are those the words of a little Christian child, Nellie ? Is it my sister who is speak ing thus thoughtlessly and rebelliously ?" " Oh ! Herbert, you are unkind to be so cross ! And I repeat that I will not leave you — no, I will not !" She flung herself from his arms upon the ground, and sobbed as though her very heart were breaking. Her brother looked at her with a glance of tender pity mingled with sorrow ; but he did not speak for several minutes.

There was a great struggle in his mind. Should he sacri fice the interests of his Lord to the wish of his self-willed little sister ? Or would it not be better for her to learn submission while she was still young, and her character com paratively unformed ? H e did not consult his own inclination, he had long ceased to do that in questions where Nellie was concerned ; but he did consult what he considered her lasting welfare. To ihix with other children, to take part in their work and their play, he knew would be very good for her. But he did not feel so sure of the effect of the religious train ino* which she would receive from her aunt." " Won't you listen to reason, Nellie ?" he pleaded ; but the child was in no mood for reasoning. " It's unkind ! It's wicked !" she sobbed. " Oh, I'm miserable !

I shall never, never, never, be happy again if you send me to my horrid aunt and cousins !" Herbert was here summoned away, and some time elapsed before his return. Nellie sobbed on till she was exhausted, and then lay still and looked up again into the green leaves of the apple-tree. She began to think that she had acted like a very foolish little girl after all, and she wished that she had listened to her brother's reasoning; she might have reasoned too and have persuaded him that it would be a very bad arrangement to make. She waited impatiently for his return, but felt rather shy and ashamed when he resumed his seat beside her, saying, with something of his accustomed cheerfulness : " And will my baby hear me now ?" " Yes, dear Herbert, and I'm so sorry. I did'not really mean you were unkind; but I can't leave you."

The tears were rising again, but she checked them with an effort. " I shall not be offered another curacy like this has been, Nellie," said Herbert kindly ; " and just when your studies begin to want more attention, I shall be forced to give them less, perhaps scarcely any. Then, too, you will probably be left a great deal more to yourself, which would not be good for a little girl of ten years old. And think, dearest, of the great blessing which you might be come in your uncle's home, besides the great blessing which your brother hopes, by God's grace, to be to the poor, wretched inhabitants of the great city !" " Yes ; but Herbert, what should I do without you ?" " I trust that you would learn many useful things, to give me pleasure when you came to stay with me in London, or when I came to see you at Ferncliffe."

" And how long should I have to live at Ferncliffe ?" asked the child, with a heavy sigh. " Oh, I don't know. That would depend partly on how quickly you learnt the useful things, and partly on how long I stayed in London, and on other things. I would make the arrangement reversible at any time. And you have a whole month to prepare for it ; for we shall stay here another month." " Only one month !" said Nellie to herself. " And then I shall leave dear Herbert for many, many months. I wonder what he'll do without his baby to take care of !"

Chapter II

" What is earth but God's own field, Fruit unto His praise to yield ? Wheat and tares therein are sown, Unto joy or sorrow grown; Ripening with a wondrous power J Till the final harvest hour : Grant, O Lord of Life, that we Holy grain and pure may be." Hymns Ancient and Modern. So it was arranged, and both the decisive letters were despatched ; the one accepting the London curacy, the other Mrs. Howard's offer. For the first few days little Nellie was utterly dispirited and cast down, but she was naturally hopeful, and as we said, trustful; and so, after she had thought it all over many times, she came to the sensible conclusion that what was now inevitable had better be met with courage ; and what still remained to her had better be thoroughly enjoyed. Herbert often watched her with sad, long ing eyes.

Bitter as was the thought of separation to the child, it was a deeper and more abiding sorrow to the man : yet it was borne with firm manly courage and reserve. How quickly day after day passed by, till at last only one precious week remained. " Just a week to-day, Herbert !" sighed Nellie, " and we shall have no more pleasant chats, and no more nice, interesting lessons together." " Never mind, Nell," was the cheerful response. " You'll be learning with your cousins, you know, and that'll be much better fun than all by yourself." " Oh ! no, it won't !" cried Nellie ; " indeed it won't ! But, perhaps, for some things it may be pleasanter to have companions — things that you don't do with me, Herbert." Every day of that last week was fully occupied. There was so much to be done, so many friends, rich and poor, to be visited, so much packing, so much leave-taking.

Herbert invited all his favourite scholars from the village school to take tea with himself and his sister, and that was a very pleasant evening to all. Nellie fancied herself very useful ; it was she who folded all her brother's clothes so neatly, to be laid in his boxes ; she certainly hindered him a good deal, but he could not find it in his heart to say so, and he antici pated the mournful pleasure it would give him to take out what those dear little hands had so lovingly placed there. The last Sunday was a quiet, peaceful day; the sun shone warm and bright ; all nature seemed to rejoice in such calm beauty. The familiar services were soothing to Nellie ; but the day was an unusually trying one to the young clergyman. " Let us go to our favourite nook in the wood, Nellie," he said at the close of it.

" I have several things I want to say to you ; and it will be so pleasant to spend this lovely evening there." It was a silent walk, for Herbert appeared preoccupied, and Nellie was wondering what things her brother wished to say to her. At last they entered the wood, and leaving the ordinary path, they sought a sheltered dell, which none besides themselves ever fre quented. On one side they were hidden from view by the foliage of the trees and the long grass ; on the other] could be seen a little peep of corn-fields and pastures, with a hazy line of hills beyond. '' How interesting that Iarg-e field of corn seems to Herbert to-night," thought Nellie ; and she was about to speak to him when he said, half to her and half to himself : " ' One soweth and another reapeth ;' how true that is, to be sure !"

" What makes you think of that, Herbert?" asked Nellie, sidling closer up to him. " The sight of that corn-field, Nellie," he replied ; " do you remember who sowed the grain we see springing now ?" " Yes," said the child, " it was Farmer Browne, but he died in the spring, and so Bennett will reap it, I suppose." " And so it is with the spiritual seed which is sown in our hearts," replied Herbert gravely. '* Although we shall, one day, assuredly reap that which we have sown in this life ; yet often, while on earth, we are not permitted to see the good seed, which we have dropped into the ground God has pre pared, springing up and growing to maturity." " Do we all sow seed, Herbert ?" " Yes, dear ; certainly we are all sowing seed of some kind — either good or bad. And just as the poisonous poppy and the useless corn-flower grow up together with the grain, so the bad seed springs up in the soil of the heart just as readily as the good."

" Yes, Herbert, and as the poppy and the corn-flower look so pretty, and bright, and harmless, so the bad seed in our hearts some times seems to spring up more beautiful than the good," added Nellie, delighted to be able to carry on the metaphor for herself. " Not more beautiful, I think," said her brother ; " but more attractive it often, very often, is." There was a pause, then the little girl whispered : " Dear Herbert, I will try to sow good seed at Ferncliffe; and to show them all there that you have been sowing good seed all this time." He kissed her affectionately, and then said : " My child, will you make three promises to me to-night, promises which may, some of them, be hard to keep, and which will last as long as you live in your aunt's house ?" " Yes, yes !" was the eager reply.

What could she not promise to that loving, watchful brother ? " First then, you must promise to tell me in letters all that troubles you ; I could not bear to think that you were hiding anything which pained you from your brother. You will tell me all that gives you pleasure, I know; but tell me, too, all that troubles or perplexes you, will you ?" " Yes, Herbert, I will." " For the second promise then," he said, smiling. " Never omit, night and morning, to kneel down and offer up your prayer to God Almighty ; and read at least a few verses of the Bible every day. If you begin this custom at once, you will not find much diffi culty in continuing it, I think." " Yes, I will." But Nellie wondered that he thought such a promise necessary. " Thirdly, and lastly, set a watch over yourself, dear child, that your natural self-will does not mar your character.

No one in your new home will know you as I do, for some time ; and you may not find that they deal with you in the same manner. You will not be a baby any longer, for several of your cousins are younger than yourself, and will look up to you to set them the example they should follow. Will you try to think of something, every day, in which you can give up your own will and yield to that of another ? Only take care you don't yield if you consider that it would be wrong to do so." " Yes, I'll promise that too," said Nellie, with a sigh ; " but that's much the hardest. Only God will help me, and I dare say my cousins will too. And now will you promise me something, Herbert }" " What is it, little one ?" " Why, to let me see you, even for ever so short a time, at least once every year — once every year, Herbert," she repeated slowly and emphatically.

" That might prove a hard promise too, my baby, but I agree to try and manage it so. Indeed, I should not like to see you less often than once in a year. You must do and learn a great deal in a whole year, little girl." So they talked on till the shadows of night warned them to return home. As they passed the churchyard they entered and stood for a little while beside the new made grave of the Vicar of Beechdale. " He sowed a great deal of good seed," thought Nellie, " that he never saw springing up." And a tear dimmed her bright eye, for she had loved the kind friend who had been as a father to her in the early days of her orphan hood.

Chapter III

" Let us be patient, God has taken from us The earthly treasures upon which we leaned, That from the fleeting things which lie around us, Our clinging hearts should be for ever weaned." "The Changed Cross." " Good-bye, dear old Beechdale, good-bye !" cried Nellie, leaning out of the carriage window, as the train which was to bear her far from the scenes she had learned to love, moved slowly out of the station. A few minutes more and Beechdale was quite lost to view. Nellie drew in her head and sat very silent in a corner, trying to hide the tears which would not be restrained. Her brother pitied her, and tried to interest her in the places they whirled past, but it was a difficult matter for some time ; then the buoyancy of her spirits returned, and she conversed eagerly about her cousins, though 2 — Herbert knew little more about the subject than she did herself.

Her brother was not to accompany her the whole way, and as they neared the station where he was to leave her, her little heart grew very heavy. " We have an hour to wait here, Nell," said Herbert cheerfully, as the train stopped ; "jump out, and we'll leave your cloak and umbrella in the waiting-room, and then go into the town and look round us." Nellie was o-lad of the excitement of seeinp the first large town she had ever been in, and chatted gaily to her brother as they prome naded the streets, stopping to look in at many a shop-window. " Come in here and choose a book for yourself, Nellie," said Herbert, standing still at the door of a bookseller's shop ; " perhaps you would like to read when you are in the train again." Nellie was delighted, and after much de liberation chose a selection of fairy tales.

They next went to a bazaar, and here Her bert told her to buy whatever would please a little boy of three or four, and give it to his god-child (one of her cousins) from him. But after all, the parting could not be delayed very long; and as the little girl clasped her brother in a close embrace the sobs broke forth : " Oh ! dear, dear Herbert, I cannot say good-bye ! I cannot leave you !" "Be brave, my darling sister, and try to be good and happy. God bless you, my treasure, and may you grow .up as holy a woman as our mother !" He seldom spoke of that dead mother, even to Nellie, but she understood in part how great a grief her death had been to him. The thought of his sorrows quieted her, and she released him from that clinging embrace. She felt his fervent kisses on her throbbing brow ; she heard his whispered words of comfort and blessing ; she saw the glisten ing of his dark eyes ; but she could not speak.

" Take care of that," said Herbert, slipping a piece of paper into her hand, as she took her seat in the train ; and then in another minute or two he was left far behind. Nellie was not alone, or she would have sobbed bitterly; she felt very miserable and lonely, and cried quietly with her face turned away from the other passengers. Presently she unfolded the bit of paper, which was Herbert's parting gift, and what was her amazement to discover that it was a five-pound note. " How very kind of Herbert," she thought : " He is always so kind and thoughtful, and I shan't see or hear him for so very, very long. Oh ! how could I leave him ?" The train stopped at several stations, but Nellie had no more changes to make, and she took but little interest in what was going on around her. Her fellow-passengers gave her little heed, except a tall, handsome gentleman, who was not in the carriage when first Nellie had entered it.

He watched her kindly and sadly for some time, and at last moving close up to her, said : " Little girl, you seem very unhappy ; can I do nothing to help you ?" Nellie looked up surprised, and answered shyly : " I am very unhappy because I have left my brother, and I shall not see him again for ever so long;." " Well, but that's no reason to cry so much, is it ? Do you know, I have a wife and eight children, to whom I shall have to say good bye for two years at least, perhaps more, at the end of next week ?" " I'm very sorry for you," said Nellie, with a sigh ; " there seem to be a great many partings in the world !" " Why, that's a very dull sort of way to look at life," replied the gentleman, smiling, though somewhat sadly. " Think how many meetings there must be then." " Every one that parts does not meet again."

And a big tear fell from the downcast eyes. " Well, there's going to be a meeting to day anyhow," continued her friend ; " for I expect my little niece to arrive to-night." " I'm going to live with my aunt and uncle," said the child wearily ; " but I wish I had not to leave Herbert." " Why, what's your name, child ?" was the sudden question. " Nellie Bernard," answered the little girl, surprised. " Then there's a meeting taking place this very minute ! For you must be the niece I spoke of." " Are you my uncle Arthur then ?" and the flushed cheeks grew brighter ; " I'm glad if you are." "And I am very glad that you are my little niece, Nellie," was the hearty response, as the gentleman bent to kiss her with tenderness. " And are you really going away for so long, Uncle Arthur ?" asked the child presently.

" Yes, Nellie ; my regiment is ordered to sail for India on the twentieth of this month, and it would not do to run away, you know." " Why, no ; but I wish you weren't, all the same ;" and Nellie lay back, so as to be able to steal a glance every now and then at Colonel Howard without being seen. She thought he looked very kind and pleasant, and she wondered how his children could ever bear his departure. " They must be very unhappy," she said to herself, "even more unhappy than I am. I should think they are miserable !" .The remainder of the journey was far less lonely and dull than the dreary piece since Herbert had been left behind ; for Colonel Howard enlivened it by his interesting con versation, turning the thoughts of the orphan child from the bitter parting on which they were too much inclined to linger, to her suture home and her cousins.

" Ferncliffe !" sang out a porter in a loud, harsh voice, as the train drew up at a pretty station, bright and scented with the flowers in the little gardens. " Here we are !" cried Nellie, springing up : "Is the house far from this, Uncle ?" " A good half-hour's walk, dear ; are you tired ? If you like we can easily have a cab." But Nellie much preferred to walk ; the evening was balmy and delicious, and she felt greatly refreshed by the light, cool breeze which fanned her glowing cheeks and aching brow, as she stood on the platform, very glad to have her uncle to look after her luggage for her. " Here are some of your cousins come to meet you," said Colonel Howard ; " they did not know that I was returning by this train. Well, Eric, my boy," advancing towards a tall, well-built youth os between sixteen and seventeen years of age, " what have you to say to your little cousin, Nellie Bernard, whom strangely enough I have picked up in the journey ?

And you, Laura, come and speak to her." " We did not expect you so early, father," replied the boy, holding out his hand to Nellie, who silently did the same. But the girl addressed as Laura, who was evidently little younger than her brother, gave her a hearty kiss, saying gently : " I'm so glad you've come. Give Eric your cloak and umbrella ; I dare say you're tired. And you've a book, too," she added ; " let me carry it for you." Nellie had forgotten till that minute that she possessed such a book at all. " I meant to read it," she said, " but Uncle Arthur has been talking to me all the time, and so I did not remember it." " Archie was very anxious to come," con tinued Laura ; " but mamma would not let him, he's so mischievous." " How old is he ?" asked Nellie. " Could not you have taken care of him ?"

" Goodness me ! no," exclaimed the girl, amused. " He is as old as you, Nellie, and much bigger. But I mean he's so rough that mamma thought he might be too much for you just at first. She did not think papa would be here." So they chatted on, falling a little behind the Colonel and his eldest son ; and Nellie thought she could like her cousin very well ; but she rather dreaded meeting such a terribly rough boy that he could not be trusted with out his parents. " Perhaps I sha'n't have much to do with him," she thought. " I'm sure I sha'n't, if I can help it."