The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Right Knock

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Right KnockThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: The Right KnockAuthor: Helen Van-AndersonRelease date: January 5, 2008 [eBook #24177]Language: EnglishCredits: E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIGHT KNOCK ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The Right KnockAuthor: Helen Van-AndersonRelease date: January 5, 2008 [eBook #24177]Language: EnglishCredits: E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team

Title: The Right Knock

Author: Helen Van-Anderson

Release date: January 5, 2008 [eBook #24177]

Language: English

Credits: E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RIGHT KNOCK ***

E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier,and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team(http://www.pgdp.net)

"Go to your bosom;Knock there; and ask your heart, what it doth know"—Shakespeare.

Published byTHE NEW YORK MAGAZINE OF MYSTERIES22 North William Street, New York CityCopyright, 1889, by Helen Van-AndersonAll rights reservedThe Right Knock

Chapter.Page.I.Mrs. Hayden,9II.The Girls at Home,17III.A Fire and a Retrospect,25IV.Beginnings,30V.The Old Doubts Again,36VI.Too Good to be True,44VII.A New Hope,59VIII.What the World Said,63IX.A Struggle with Self,70X.Hints of Help,79XI.Leaving Home,83XII.Mrs. Pearl's Lecture,90XIII.The True Foundation,95XIV.Questionings,104XV.What is Not True,112XVI.Studying and Proving,125XVII.What is True,131XVIII.It Must be So,141XIX.The Spiritual Birth,151XX.Tangles and Talks,162XXI.Inspiration and the Bible,172XXII.A Church Committee,184XXIII.Prayer,192XXIV.Every-day Practice,202XXV.Understanding,211XXVI.A New Problem,222XXVII.Undercurrents,228XXVIII.The Power of Thought,234XXIX.An Unexpected Meeting,243XXX.Practical Application,249XXXI.Confidences,257XXXII.Practical Application,262XXXIII.Grace,274XXXIV.Practical Application,281XXXV.Practical Application,291XXXVI.Found at Last,300XXXVII.After Three Years,308

Although most excellent food is to be found on the table of metaphysical thought, there has never yet been a metaphysical story setting forth a picture of every-day life, in its search for, and attainment of satisfaction through the knowledge of Christ Philosophy.

Knowing the pressing need of such a book among the many inquirers and students on this theme, and with the hope of helping to fill that need, this story is told.

It is a book of facts, not fiction, although wearing the dress of fiction. Every case of healing, every seemingly marvelous experience has come under the observation of the writer and can be authenticated as a veritable fact.

That there are hundreds, yea, thousands to-day, who leave their homes and go to distant cities for the sake of pursuing the study of Christ Philosophy, or receiving the benefit of its healing ministry, is proof enough that the story of one woman's experience will be interesting and helpful to all.

While the lessons contained in Mrs. Hayden's letters are not exhaustive, they are valuable for their very simplicity, and are thoroughly practical, complete instructions for the beginning and continuance of the study of this wonderful truth.

With every lesson supplemented by personal experiences, the reader sees not only the theory but the practice demonstrated, and in this simple story he may find the mirror of his own inner hopes and aspirations, with a broader view of their possible attainment than he has yet seen.

Carlyle says: "If a book come from the heart, it will contrive to reach other hearts." "The Right Knock" is presented with no other apology than this: it has come from the heart.

Helen Van-Anderson.

To a new and awakened public the author gives greetings and begs to say a few more words aboutThe Right Knock.

After all these years of work along the lines laid out in the book and with a wide knowledge of prevailing systems of mental training, the author is happy to be able to say with unbounded confidence that there is nothing to excel this system for beginners, for those desiring to lay a lasting foundation. The emphasis laid upon the necessity for persistent, regular and systematic practice of word speaking by audible repetition, is great, but none too great. For the faithful student this never fails to bring results, never fails to put him in the way of understanding and demonstration. With regular practice and constant application in the daily life, with good judgment as to the details of practice, length of time at one exercise, etc., the pupil is assured in one way or another certain convincing experiences which develop individuality and, with that, his God-like gifts. Thousands have proven this.

The unnumbered letters of gratitude, the kind words, the warm hand-clasps, the many testimonials of sick beds forsaken, depressed spirits revived, vices discontinued, of physical and moral strength regained, prove that the work of the Spirit is not to be measured by puny human standards of judgment, prove that simple things—the things from which we expect the least, in which we put the least ambition or worldly desire may be those which will yield the "hundred fold" of real blessing.

The test of any spiritual truth lies in its demonstration and in the inspiration and faithfulness with which it can be lived. Be true to the truth and you will demonstrate it. Live the Christ life and the works will follow; yet seek truth for its own sake, not for its power.

A word about Christian Science. Sometimes persons aver ofThe Right Knockthat it teaches Christian Science pure and simple. With all due respect and a recognition of the grand and marvelous work done by Mrs. Eddy, the author feels called upon to say, in justice to Mrs. Eddy as well as herself, that this is not true.

There are undoubtedly many similar statements, yet there are many differences which the careful reader will discover. Please note, for example, that not matter itself, but matter as the real substance or power, is denied. Not sickness of the body, but sickness of the Spirit, is a falsity, etc., etc.

In brief, the author ofThe Right Knockbelieves there is a name, place and condition foreverything, and that the discrimination of the plane on which a thing or condition exists, is the key to placing it in the right relation to the whole.

In conclusion, the author would say most earnestly, study one writer or teacher at one time, just as you would study music of one instructor at one time. It is not the many books butthe Book withinwhich is to reveal all things.

God speed you.

Helen Van-Anderson.

The Right Knockis now in its THIRTEENTH edition, a fact which speaks for thegreat helpfulnessof the book, and proclaims without further comment itsworld wide Scope.

"When you have resolved to be great, abide by yourself, and do not weakly try to reconcile yourself with the world."—Emerson.

There was a brilliant light in all the windows at Terrace Hill. Even the verandahs were gorgeous with the gayest Chinese lanterns, and every bush and tree in the lawn did duty as chandelier. Flowers, too, festooned every arch and embowered every corner, while rare vases fulfilled their esteemed privilege of holding and showing fragrant blossoms.

Everybody declared the decorations superb, and agreed that no one but Mrs. Hayden could display such exquisite taste and such perfect judgment in selection and arrangement. Animated groups of gayly attired guests sauntered up and down the rose-bowered walks, or promenaded the verandahs, while sounds of music and merriment from the house proclaimed the joy that reigned throughout.

"Oh, how beautifully Mrs. Hayden entertains!"remarked Kate Turner to her friend Grace Hall, as they stopped beside a marble fountain to survey the scene. "I wonder what place such a woman would take in society without her wealth," she continued.

"Probably wouldn't haveanyplace, I am sorry to say, because there are thousands of women just as capable and bright as Mrs. Hayden, yet because they have no social position, or rather no money to buy themselves one, they are unrecognized and alone," said Grace, with a tinge of bitterness in her tone.

"I could never fancy Mrs. Hayden alone or unrecognized, although I only know her as a society lady, and that mostly through Mrs. Nottingham."

"There is no telling what a person really is till they have gone through a trial of some kind, or had something disagreeable to bear.Thenone of two things happens: you will see either a saint or a sinner, and I am not sure which Mrs. Hayden would be. She hasn't yet seen a flame from the fire of adversity, I'm sure. See how wonderfully she is blessed with this beautiful home, a good husband and three nice children."

"Oh! it must be lovely to have everything you want," sighed Kate, under her breath.

Poor Kate! She was alone in the world, making the best of life with her talent for music and through a mutual friend had been introduced to Mrs. Hayden, who, after hearing her play, immediately engaged her for Mabel, and always invited her to the parties, more as a musical attraction, than out of any real regard, for Mrs. Hayden had an abundance of friends withouttroubling herself to cultivate in any warm fashion, the friendship of a poor little music teacher, thought Kate, somewhat bitterly.

"But after all, Kate, life would need more than luxuries to make itmyideal of happiness. I should want every human being to be agreeably employed; every woman, no matter how much or how little she might have, should be occupied with something that she could put her heart into and speak to the world through her work, whether it be painting pictures or darning stockings."

"Now Gracious, you are riding your hobby and you ought to see you can't ride with all these fine people in your path. Come down at once or I'll desert you! Let's go in and hear that waltz," and Kate laughingly pulled the hobby-rider into the path that led to the conservatory where they could listen to the music.

"What a beautiful home Mrs. Hayden has!" said Mrs. Ferris to her neighbor with the severe collar and plain hair, as they examined the exquisite frescoing on the parlor ceiling.

"Yes, but she ought to look into poor homes once in a while. She don't use her money in the right way. Just think of the good she might do for our church, if she would contribute to the charity fund, or take some poor families to look after."

The fat neck folded itself over the severe collar and the face settled into rigid lines of judgment. Mrs. Dyke was a practical woman and talked in a practical way. Being a wonderful church worker she naturally considered it everybody's duty to give when they did notwork for the cause of religion. She belonged to the First Methodist Church on High St., and talked about "our church" as though there were no other.

Mrs. Ferris was at a loss. She had said something that had not brought forth a pleasant result. She merely wished to be sociable, and what more convenient topic than these beautiful surroundings? She was a meek little woman, who always wanted to say something agreeable or soothing, and she felt quite frightened at the mistake she had made. She wished somebody would come to the rescue, but there was no immediate prospect, and she scarcely knew how to proceed again, but ventured to ask if there were many poor people who needed attention now.

"Yes, indeed there are no less than fifteen families in the mission quarter nearest Mrs. Hayden who would consider it a privilege to pick up the crumbs from her table, and I am afraid she'll have to give an accountsometime when the reckoning day comes, for those who have not 'given cups of cold water, or visited the sick languishing in prison.'"

The air almost trembled with a suggestion of something. Little Mrs. Ferris looked longingly towards the door and just then spied her husband who was seeking her. After she was gone, Mrs. Dyke looked grimly about, and not finding any one to listen, she relapsed into a meditative silence. People always wondered what made Mrs. Dyke so popular that she received an invitation to every aristocratic party, but it was according to the old adage, "Where there is a will there is a way."

This was agalanight for Hampton. Such large social parties were always an event, and no one refused an invitation to Mrs. Hayden's, for it always meant beautiful rooms, carpets, pictures andbric-a-brac, superb refreshments, and a splendid time generally. Mrs. Hayden was a favorite with the world because she fed the world with sugar plums, and after smacking its lips it was always ready for more. And she usually had one to drop in. To-night it was a remarkably sweet one. This was a general affair, and every big body and big body's cousins and friends were there. To be sure they discussed their hostess as freely as though they were not big bodies, but with rare exceptions the discussion was complimentary in the extreme. Mrs. Hayden, what she said, what she did, what she wore, what she served as refreshments the last time, what were the probabilities next, her children, her husband, what they all did and said and how they acted, etc., were always interesting themes. Sometimes, to be sure, there were adverse remarks like Mrs. Dyke's, but few made them.

Yes, Mrs. Hayden was decidedly popular, and although no one was ever heard to tell of any particularly grand or noble deed she had done, she was supposed to be doing good all the time. There were those who, in earlier years, would have pointed her out as an enthusiastic philanthropist, eagerly helping whatever project needed her most, but gradually she had dropped it all, no one knew why, and now her principal work was to shine in society, at least this was the general verdict of the adverse few who judged from the superficial standpoint of the world. Of her inner lifethey knew nothing as the world knows nothing of any one's inner life. There may be depths or shallows in any character never dreamed of by the most intimate friend, much less by the babbling world.

Mrs. Hayden moved about among her guests with a stately grace. She had always a pleasant faculty of adjusting the broken links of conversation, supplying areparteeor asking a question, introducing strange gentlemen and reviving timiddebutanteswith a pretty compliment or a gracious smile.

"My dear, I wish you would play something," she whispered to Miss Turner as she passed her, "I think the group in the drawing room need a little change;" and no wonder, for there was Mrs. Dyke in a hot dispute with a Unitarian over Robert Elsmere, while her pastor sat near, occasionally adding something to Mrs. Dyke's emphatic remarks.

"It's a most blasphemous piece of presumption to present such a picture as that of the church. As if it were in its last stages of decay, indeed! It was well such a weak-minded idiot as Robert Elsmere died at the beginning of his career. I could never forgive the author if she hadn't killed him," she was saying in an angry voice.

"We can take it simply as a symbol of the decay of his religion, and that is comforting," added the minister, complacently.

"I am not at all in sympathy with the holy Catherine, with her prejudice and bigotry. If it wasn't such a true picture of the many Catherines we find in real life, I should be quite disgusted, but I do love to seereal people in novels, then I know so much better how to deal with them," said a pretty young lady who aspired to be called intellectual because she liked to study character.

"Indeed, Catherine had a deep religious nature, which might be worthy of emulation in many respects, and she is certainly a high ideal of wifely love," Mrs. Hayden interposed at this critical juncture.

"Well, I didn't read the book for Catherine, but for the sake of knowing Robert and what he did to make such a stir in the world. I'm opposed to novels, as a rule, and read as little of one as I can," said Mrs. Dyke, smoothing her lap and looking at the minister. Mrs. Hayden motioned to Kate to play, and presently the rooms were filled with harmony.

Kate Turner was a natural musician, and to-night she fairly excelled herself. The little passage at arms just recorded had inspired her with emotions that could only be expressed in music, and she played some time to the continued delight of her listeners. She finished at last with a song that stirred every heart, and even Mrs. Dyke was visibly softened. "Verily 'music hath charms to soothe a savage breast,'" murmured the intellectual young lady, who was sorry that discussion of Robert Elsmere had been interrupted. She rather enjoyed Mrs. Dyke, for she was an immensely interesting "character."

This reception, like all others, came to an end at last. Everybody expressed themselves as highly delighted with their entertainment, and one by one reluctantly took their departure; the gay lanterns on the lawn andamong the shrubbery went out, the lights inside the splendid mansion were finally extinguished, and only the quiet starlight illumined Terrace Hill.

Mrs. Hayden, from her high bay window, looked out over the sleeping city, then at the North Star that beamed so brightly above her—that unerring beacon-light that guides so many lost mariners into port. Some deep thought must have moved her, some hidden impulse stirred her mind. She sighed. There was no visible reason for it. Then she turned and went down the stairs to the nursery. Her two babies were sleeping sweetly. Mabel was asleep in her room, and all was quiet. The hush seemed oppressive after so much gay confusion. Now she was in another element. Now she was the mother, then she was a fashionable woman. She hastened back to her room, once more gazed without and then thoughtfully retired.

"Christianity is not a theory or a speculation, but alife; not a philosophy of life, but a life and a living process."—Coleridge.

Kate Turner walked slowly along the street at the foot of Terrace Hill. She looked up at the beautiful home where she had spent the previous evening, and as she saw the velvet lawn and terraced walks bordered with bright flowers, she half pitied herself because she was only a plodding music teacher. She was not envious, but she had such longing aspirations to be somebody in the world; she wanted so many things, needed so much to complete her education, and starved herself in so many ways for the sake of completing it, that sometimes she grew discontented with her lot. Fortunately her moods did not last long, however, and especially when she went home to her artist friend, Grace, with whom she shared rooms. They were both making their own way in the world, and were a great help to each other, as well as a great comfort.

Kate was wondering what Mrs. Hayden did every day with her leisure. She should think she would be tired always going to parties and lunches and operas, or receiving calls. "But then, I am thankful to know her," she concluded, casting a last glance at the stately mansion before turning the corner. "After all, life might be worse for me, and I can be a happy nobody if not a famous somebody," she said to herself, as sheran upstairs, after stopping at the baker's for a loaf of bread and a pot of jam.

"Well, Gracious, what noble message have you given to the world through your work to-day?" she cried, a moment later, gaily peering into the studio through theportièresthat separated their parlor from the work room.

"Is that you, Kate? Well, I've been trying the whole afternoon to make this Hebe look like a modern Hypatia, but——"

"In other words," interrupted Kate, "you would change innocence into intellect. Now, look here, Grace, just leave this dainty girl alone. She would never do to serve the gods if you gave her the aspect and bearing of a goddess. Let her alone, or the world would not recognize her as a representative woman," laughed Kate, inspecting the picture with critical eyes.

"Kate, stop laughing, and tell me truly if you think it would not do to give her a little more independence."

"You know it's the worst thing in the world to give a woman even an inkling that such a thing exists," said the mischievous Kate, with a total abandonment to consequences as she gave the artist an impetuous hug.

"Well, let us have tea, and we'll discuss the subject later," said Grace, somewhat mollified.

"I am afraid, Gracious, you are something in the same mood I was when I started home to-night, but I concluded to let 'dull care' take care of itself, and be merry while the sun shines, which means as long aswe have enough to pay our rent, and the prospect of a little more next month," continued Kate as she brought a tiny oil stove from the depths of a closet and proceeded to "put the kettle on."

"I have been so full of thoughts of the nineteenth century that I found it hard to go back to the Pagan ages, but here this picture is ordered, and I must finish it by next week, so I guess this one will have to go without my message," said Grace, a little gloomily, for above all things she loved to put her own individuality into her pictures, which she generally did with rare success.

"You mustn't have just one ideal of woman, or you'll lose the art of painting the sweetest phases of womanhood," replied the busy housemaid from the sepulchral closet.

"Oh! if I have such excellent models as you make in that checked apron and dusting cap, I can do nobly."

Grace laughed good humoredly as she cleaned her palette and set Hebe in one corner.

"Now, my dear, isn't there something I can do to help arrange the feast?" as she went into the little back room they used for a kitchen.

"Yes, wash the grapes and open the jam while I cut the bread and pour the tea."

A few minutes later they weretête-à-têteat the little table, and as they sat down Grace said with a comical smile: "Quite a difference between our banquet of last night and this, isn't there?"

"I should remark there is, but after all, Grace, I believe I am quite content. As I was passing along atthe foot of the hill this evening a momentary dissatisfaction came over me that I couldn't have a few advantageslikeMrs. Hayden's, not hers of course, but similar ones," with a smile at the distinction, "and then I wondered how she spends all her leisure, for of course she has the whole twenty-four hours at her disposal, and—well, to be brief, I would not want to live without some object in life, and so I thought it best the way it is now."

"Very wise conclusion, Kate, that's just what I always say, and really who is there with whom we would care to exchange places? There are so many kinds of people and so many things for humanity to contend against, I don't know that I should want to change burdens with anyone."

"Mrs. Dyke, for instance, would you not think yourself fortunate to be like her?" said Kate, with a merry twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, deliver me from that comparison! Why, she carries everybody's sins on her shoulders; I even heard she had taken Robert Elsmere to throw at the world!" laughed Grace.

"But not his wife; she didn't read about her. Wasn't it too funny to hear her go on last night, and the way she looked at the minister to emphasize her position?"

"Yes, but how many there are like her—read just enough to know there are such and such characters and such and such incidents. Now of course she has heard the minister define Robert's crime, as he would call it I suppose, so she thinks she can use the whole argument," replied Grace, a little scornfully.

"Mrs. Hayden interposed just at the right time. I was glad she did, too. It seems she has considered Catherine's position and could speak a good word for her," said Kate, sipping her tea, thoughtfully.

"Well, if she calls her an ideal of wifely love, I don't admire the reality," exclaimed Grace, with more vigor than elegance, as she put down her tea-cup.

"I got positively impatient," she continued, "when I read about her cruelty to Robert, judging him in that inquisitor's fashion. Poor fellow!Ithink he died of a broken heart."

"But, Grace, she did what she thought was her religious duty, and it must have been hard for her to withdraw herself so completely when she loved him so much," said the more charitable Kate.

"Do you call that love which would let him go tramping off alone, with not even a word of sympathy, and so afraid that her religion would be contaminated she could not even hear him preach? I don't pretend to be religious, but any religion stands on a poor foundation if it can be swept away by anybody's opinions."

"It wasn't that; it was because she thought it was wrong to listen to heresy, as she supposed it was, and——"

"How did she know? Had she taken pains to find out? Did she study it carefully and have a reason for her cruel judgment?" interrupted the wrathful Grace.

"Well, she was conscientious and was doing what she had been taught was right."

"Kate, if there is anything that makes me out ofpatience with people it is when they hang all their actions on what somebody else says, and that excuse is simply barbarous in this case."

"Remember that in religion one must follow what he thinks to be right, and Catherine Elsmere represents a large class of people; in fact, the majority of religious people."

Kate was naturally inclined to be charitable, and this, added to her early training in a religious home, as well as her position as a church member, made her understand Catherine's position from a conscientious standpoint much more than Grace. She could readily appreciate the fixed law of conscience Catherine had made for herself by pledging her sacred word of honor to her father, whom she revered as an infallible authority, as most people revere the legends and doctrines of the church.

"I admit that it is right to follow the dictates of one's own conscience, but I believe in having an enlightened conscience, and a reason for opinions. For that matter, so did Robert have a conscience, and while I don't understand his religion, I respect his honesty and effort. There are a great many beautiful things in what he says, but there must be a mistake somewhere in a religion that can not save to the uttermost, and his didn't. I haven't found one that does," said Grace, with some irony.

"Nevertheless, Grace, there is nothing to warrant your assertion in the Bible. The Christian religion is full of the most blessed promises of salvation ineverything," said Kate, gently, but flushing a little as shespoke, for she disliked talking religion with Grace, who was so skeptical, although if compelled to do so, it was a matter of duty to stand up for her Christian principles.

"Yes, I admit it gives many wonderful promises, but where are they realized? It seems to me the very fact that the church has not proven them, made such people as Robert Elsmere doubt them even as possible of fulfillment."

"Why Grace, surelyyoudon't disbelieve in the power of God to fulfill the promises?" exclaimed Kate, deeply pained.

"I am talking from Robert Elsmere's standpoint," answered Grace, evasively.

"My sympathy is with Catherine, for to her, religion was a living answer to her deepest needs and feelings, and to doubt that answer was nothing less than sacrilege," said Kate, with a bright red spot on either cheek.

"Well," answered Grace, throwing down her napkin, "I want to see a religion that will stand infinite investigation without falling into ruins, and Robert reasoned himself away from the old beliefs and dogmas because he investigated them. He used his God-given reason, and I think that is to be used as well as the blind, unquestioning faith of Catherine."

"There are times when we need faith and times when we need reason, but faith applies to religion and reason to the things of the world," replied Kate, recalling what she had heard a few Sundays before.

"Well, to me the ideal of religion is a marriage,a union of faith and reason—but this is idle talk. What does anybody know of such perfection as I demand anyway?"

Grace impatiently pushed her chair away from the table, and went to look at her picture again, in a decidedly gloomy mood.

"Such is the world, understand it, despise it, love it; cheerfully hold on thy way through it, with thy eye on highest loadstars."—Carlyle.

It was a week since the party. Mrs. Hayden had been to the opera and returned late. Her husband was absent on a business trip, and she felt a vague uneasiness come over her as she entered the room. She knew not why, but it seemed unusually lonely without him. She seldom went out alone, but to-night she had gone out as much to while away the time as to hear the music. After paying her usual visit to the nursery, she went to bed, but slept little for several hours.

About 4 o'clock she was awakened by stifling fumes of smoke and startling cries of fire. Was it too late? She sprang up and ran to the nursery stairs, but the scorching flames met her, and she retreated to the window, shrieking for help, only to get a glimpse of someone through the smoke climbing toward her.

"Hold on!" cried the fireman, and reached out his arms for her just as she fell back fainting. Grasping her firmly, the brave man dragged her out of the window, and began his perilous descent. When about half way down, the ladder fell, but its burden was expected, and mattress and bed-clothing saved them from what might have been worse. As it was, the fireman escaped with a few bruises and slight scorching,and Mrs. Hayden with a broken limb. First they feared she was dead, but after a few moments she revived and moaned feebly for husband and children. Little Mabel clung desperately to her mother, and sobbingly told her "only the house was burnt. Fred and Jamie were safe, and now she must get up and be glad." Poor child, instinctively she knew the value of life above all other things.

"How did it happen, where did it start, and who saw it first?" were the queries on every side. Some one down at the foot of the hill had seen a tiny blue flame licking the corner of the roof. The fire alarm was touched, the bells set to ringing, and the observers leaped up the terraced stairways and arrived at the top just as the whole house burst into flames. The fire company had not arrived in time to do anything, as it was impossible to climb the hill with their heavy trucks, and their hose was not long enough to reach the flames, so the house was gone. Many people had gathered from all quarters in the fashion peculiar to fire crowds, but now they had seen the spectacle, and, as there was nothing further to see or do, they slowly dispersed.

Mrs. Hayden and the children were removed to the hotel and a telegram sent to Mr. Hayden, informing him of the catastrophe.

When he arrived, twelve hours later, he found his wife confined to the bed with a nervous fever and a broken limb. The children were safe and well cared for, and though his elegant home was in ruins, John Hayden was deeply thankful. Marion would, ofcourse, get over the trouble, and things were much better than they might have been, he said. So he tried to look on the bright side, and after a few cheering words and a loving kiss he left her, to run up the hill and view the ruins.

It was early twilight, and as he beheld the smoulderingdebris, and realized that the comforts and luxuries, possibly the necessities of life had gone up in the smoke that even now curled in sullen wreaths from the blackened heaps, he bowed his head and wept.

It was but a moment, but that moment was the bitterest of his whole life. He knew better than anyone else that this was probably the beginning of financial misfortune, for a very important transaction was even now pending that he feared would take his all. As a merchant he had an honorable reputation and position, but this unfortunate speculation would ruin him. Failure seemed inevitable. But he hoped to save enough to pay every debt and still be able to live, even though in a modest way. Now he would not even get his insurance on his house, for in his financial embarrassment he had failed to renew his policy, which had expired but few days before. He would now have little besides this spot, this beautiful hill. Yes, it was valuable, and in time could be sold for what it was worth, but not now, and in the meantime what should he do? How would Marion take it? Why had he not told her before he went away? But he had known it himself only a few days.

"Oh, my dear wife, would that we could commence life as we did when we were first married!" he groaned.

His mind went back to the past. He looked again into her sweet, girlish face, into her clear, earnest eyes. He remembered how they had both desired to live a religious life, how he, having been brought up in a religious home, undertook in vain to explain the Bible where it was dark and unreasonable to her. He remembered how fruitlessly she had tried to be converted, and that he had found even through her earnest seeking that he had naught but the letter of religion and was also as helpless as to the manner of salvation. And then they had given up trying. She sought, for a while, to satisfy herself by doing for others, giving her time and energy to the poor that found her out and besieged her for favors, while he had been satisfied to let religion alone and believe with the majority concerning the doctrines and dogmas.

As the years went on, and prosperity came to them, he had grown more and more indifferent, and finally, when they moved away from their early home and entered a new city, they had begun a new life, as it were.

He remembered, regretfully, that she had entered the competitive ranks of society, at his wish at first, because he thought it would add to his popularity as a merchant and increase the number and quality of his customers. Too well he remembered that the elegant parties and party costumes were first his own instigation, and now that these were likely to be taken away, he felt responsible for her happiness, and had a secret misgiving, born of his early religious training perhaps, of retribution and judgment. He hoped indeed thatshe would be able to rise above circumstances, but he was utterly at a loss to know how she would take it, for although he knew that deep down in her heart were still traces of the early longings, he felt vaguely there was no way to satisfy them any more now than in the past, and probably they would only increase the difficulty of finding happiness.

John Hayden was kind-hearted and upright in all his ways, strictly honest and conscientious, but apt to be a little one-sided in his judgments, simply because, as a rule, he reasoned from one standpoint, thought in one groove. He had never considered the questions from this point of view, and therefore they were seriously perplexing. Like many another he lived within his own world, and knew naught of any other. In the later years of their married life he and Marion had grown a little apart in the closest confidences, but it was caused by circumstances more than anything else, and notwithstanding the present misery he was sure of her love.

"Poor girl, I must hasten back to her," he murmured, as he rose from his uncomfortable position. "After all, I can thank God for my family, my health, my honor, for no matter how muchwemay suffer, no one else shall suffer through me."

There was a little pang at the thought of the privations in possible store for the family through him, but he had resolved to make the best of circumstances and be brave as possible. Once more he looked over the scene, but there were only dim black shadows in the starlight, and he went down toward the twinkling lights of the city below.

Back to Index Next