The First Soprano Part 24

"Just so," said his father. "Or it might maintain a poor fool who had missed his calling and was sent home."

Hubert laughed again. "Quite so," he a.s.sented.

And so the clouds broke away from over the house of Gray. A restored mutual understanding gave relief amounting to joy even in the face of coming separation.

Hubert's enterprise, like a great s.h.i.+p, could not be launched hastily.

Months of preparation pa.s.sed in which the business matter was finally settled and other affairs adjusted. It was finally concluded that the entire business of Robert Gray & Son should be sold, as the senior partner did not wish to carry it on without his son.

"It is not a question of the poor-house if you do give it up now, father," Hubert said to him, and he a.s.sented.

The missionary-to-be found himself called to many places to speak on behalf of the cause, and he did so with great readiness. His intense ardor caused his words to burn their way into many hearts. Again and again his own heart was overwhelmed within him by the greatness of his theme. Cold figures became burning facts as he looked at the wide areas untouched by the Gospel. The slighted wish of his Lord became an anguish in his soul. That men and women should call themselves by His name and still live unto themselves, never grieved by His message undelivered, His errand of love undone, was a shame intolerable.

Sometimes when the pa.s.sion for his Lord's will swept his soul, and he beheld in contrast the idle hands of the church, paralyzed by pleasure or filled with self-interests, in secret he cast himself upon his face and wept as only a strong man, unused to tears, can weep.

The heart of Robert Gray turned with increasing fondness to his daughter who still saw her place to be at his side. A great comfort was she to him in these days of trial. For herself, Winifred was finding out afresh "the sweetness of an accepted sorrow." The joy of the Lord was inexpressible. She could scarcely understand the gladness that filled her soul after sacrifice "more than when their corn and their wine increased."

"Why are you so radiant?" Adele asked in one of their many conferences.

"I do not know," she answered, blus.h.i.+ng at being surveyed so admiringly. "But do you remember that Psalm, Adele, that says:

"'O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead me, Let them bring me unto thy holy hill'--

"that is getting very near to G.o.d, Adele--

"'And to thy tabernacles.

"That is nearer still; but listen to that that comes next:

"'Then will I go unto the altar of G.o.d, Unto G.o.d my exceeding joy.'

"I think this is the reason why I am so happy. His light and His truth have led me to His holy precincts and I have gone to His altar--to the altar of burnt offering. And, Adele,"--her eyes filled with tears of an inexpressible gladness--"it is _there_ we find Him to be our 'exceeding joy.' I cannot explain it--I cannot even tell it--but He is '_my exceeding joy_!'"

"I know," said Adele, her own eyes filling. "I have found Him there.

And I think one reason why so many Christians seem to have no joy is because they have not come to His altar in the sense you mean. Perhaps they have seen Christ there for them in some sense, but have never quite taken their place there with Him. Do you remember, too, Winifred, that it was when the burnt offering began on that great occasion in Hezekiah's time that 'the song of the Lord began also?'"

"Oh, yes!" Winifred responded. "'The song of the Lord!' It has surely begun here, Adele."

And so it had, indeed. That evening as Hubert returned from a busy day in town he found his sister singing;

"'O joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee; I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain That morn shall tearless be.'"

"Singing, little sister?" was his greeting.

"Yes, Hubert. That has been much of my occupation to-day."

"That is good," he replied. "By the way, I heard some news in town to-day." He endeavored to speak carelessly, but looked at her apprehensively.

"Yes? What is it?"

He walked to the window and examined a flower with apparent interest.

"I hear that George Frothingham's engagement to Miss Randolph, the banker's daughter, is announced."

"Yes," said Winifred calmly, "I saw that in the morning paper. You need not have been afraid to tell me, Hubert. His engagement is a matter of perfect indifference to me."

"Thank the Lord!" Hubert exclaimed impulsively.

"Amen," she responded, still calmly.

On another evening Hubert returned with still another piece of news.

He had gone to the Cleary Street Mission to speak, and was late in returning. Winifred, who loved to hear accounts of all his meetings, waited up for him. She was in her little sitting-room when he returned. He came straight to her door and answered her ready "come in" with a light step and glowing face. He plunged at the special matter of joy at once.

"Winifred," he said, "I am not going to China alone."

The color changed in her face at the sudden announcement.

"Who--who is it, Hubert? Is it--?"

"Adele."

"Oh, Hubert, I am so glad!" she cried joyfully, and kissed him in warm congratulation.

Then suddenly the thought of her own loss intruded. Must she give her up also? Her eager gladness turned to a burst of tears. How swept of all whom she had loved, except her dear father, seemed the home scenes now. She would gladly have restrained herself for Hubert's sake, but the sudden grief was uncontrollable. She sobbed convulsively, as when years ago some childish grief had broken in storms upon her and Hubert had stood by in tearless but painful sympathy, suggesting boyish consolations, ready to sacrifice any plaything or possession that might mend her broken heart. Now he stood helplessly before this pa.s.sionate outburst.

"Forgive me, Winifred," he said contritely, "it is cruel of me to take her away."

"No, it isn't," sobbed Winifred. "It is just--what I--wished. Only--I shall--miss her so!"

"Of course," he replied pitifully.

The storm subsided, and Winifred looked at her brother apologetically.

"I am ashamed," she said, still with long catches in her breath. "I couldn't help it. I am not sorry--she is going--I am very glad!"

"You are very brave," he said.

"But it's true," she persisted. "It's all over now, Hubert. I shall not cry like that again. Let us talk about it."

They talked about it till the small hours came. Winifred's face cleared of every trace of sorrow, and she loved to think of the cheer and help that Hubert would have in the far-off land. No braver heart of all they knew could have been found to share his pilgrimage; and they imagined how Adele's keen sense of humor might turn many a sorry happening into mirth. Also she had served an apprentices.h.i.+p here among the poor and outcast whom she had come to love and who loved her well.

"Winifred," said Hubert suddenly in the midst of their conversation, "Gerald Bond is to preach for Dr. Schoolman next Sunday."

For some reason best known to himself he watched her countenance narrowly as he made the announcement. But her fair face showed only sweet unconsciousness.

"Really?" she said. "I am very glad."

"We must have him with us if we can. I long to talk with him about these new things."

"Certainly. You must invite him, Hubert."