Chapter XXIV: Addition Without Improvement

MR. LEWIS was determined to take no refusal from any one but Emily Taylor herself, not believing that any girl could resist his attractions of which he himself entertained the highest possible opinion. But Emily happily was by education and principle proof against those ornamental gildings which are always rubbed off after a short show, and exhibit the kind and quality of the metal beneath. The fact of her parents' disapproval would have been sufficient, even had she felt any inclination towards her suitor; but as she had none whatever, it was painful and displeasing to her to be urged on a point which admitted neither of doubt nor change of mind.

Edward Lewis was extremely mortified that when he condescended to plead no better success should favour him—no, not even if he offered to serve like Jacob for his Rachel. Emily was firm. The suitor was first mortified, then angry, and finally disgusted.

The way Edward Lewis took to be revenged on Emily for her want of discernment was a way that many have tried before him, and with their names to the marriage register have signed the death warrant of their earthly happiness. He would pique and mortify her by showing how little he really cared for her, and would bestow the favour of his heart and hand upon one who would be but too happy to accept them.

As Mr. Lewis wished to have a wife distinguished by beauty, he began to wonder how it came to pass that he had overlooked the showy stylish young dressmaker who worked for the upper servants at Crewe Hall, and moreover whose father was a master in his trade, and said to be "making money."

Certainly he had committed a great blunder, and Miss Milly must be made aware of it as soon as possible. The other considerations of mother and sister and home were forgotten, and the next Sunday saw Mr. Edward Lewis favoured with the smiles of Miss Lydia Brooks.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Brooks, when informed by her daughter of the delightful afternoon she had spent, "I don't know what to make of you, not I; there's Mr. Robert Taylor that I did believe liked you, and you liked him."

"Oh dear no, mother; you know nothing about it. I like him indeed!" exclaimed the daughter, disdainfully.

"Well, I don't know about that, to be sure: for my part, I don't see that you've heart enough to care for anybody. But I do say this, that it's my belief if you'd behaved as a girl ought to, and not been so spiteful to Dicky, and not put on so many airs, Mr. Robert Taylor would have asked you to have him, and I'd have been proud of such a son-in-law."

"Dear me, mother," said Miss Lydia, laughing, "you shall have better reason to be proud than that, I'll promise you."

"I don't know; when a young man is a good son, and a kind brother, and a true friend—and Robert Taylor is all of them together—then there's promise he'll be a good husband too. This new beau of yours, Liddy, has nothing of the quiet steady look of a—a Christian man, I was going to say; for though I'm not too good myself, I vally them that fears God, and I can trust them. And when a man doesn't seem to believe in nothing, he gets a scampish sort of a look with him, that no fine clothes and no fine talk can cover."

"Mother, for shame of yourself," cried Miss Lydia, highly incensed, "you know nothing about him; and I'll have you to know that when I marry, I'm the first person to be pleased in the case, and I shan't take up with other people's opinions."

"Well, take care there isn't six of one and half a dozen of the other, and too well matched together," said Mrs. Brooks, marching out of the room.

Matters went on cheerfully until, whether he really intended them seriously and so soon to reach that point or not, Mr. Lewis and Miss Brooks got "talked about" sufficiently, and Emily Taylor knew, and her brother knew, and all the little world around them knew, that they were "engaged."

"I'm delighted at it!" cried Susan Taylor. "It's an escape for two better people."

"I hope those better people had more sense, my dear," said Aunt Hayes.

"Why, indeed, aunty, you did surprise me when you would have Miss Brooks here to do your dress," said Susan; "it seemed as if you wished to bring them together."

"So I did, my dear," said Mrs. Hayes, "just to let the dear boy get at some true idea of her mind and character. I knew perfectly that her own light head and silly tongue would settle it. Give a foolish woman the opportunity, and she'll soon cool the admiration of a sensible man. His own ears are better than a thousand wise people's opinions."

"But what of poor Mrs. Lewis and Rhoda?" said Mrs. Taylor, anxiously. "It's a sad business for them, I'm afraid, mother. Rhoda says her brother insists upon their staying in the house, and she is to attend on her mother as usual; and certainly the house is big enough."

"No house would be big enough for me with a daughter-in-law like that," said Mrs. Hayes; "I hope they'll part before they find it out."

Mrs. Hayes and her niece had fulfilled their promise to pay a visit to the gardener's cottage and introduce themselves to the invalid. And so highly was the kindness appreciated, that it became one of Mrs. Lewis's chief pleasures to welcome them there.

Knowing that there must be anxiety, to say the least of it, in the hearts of both mother and daughter at this time, Mrs. Hayes went quietly by herself, to say a kind word, and strong word too, not to aggravate any discontent, but, if possible, to dissipate it. A sunbeam was her bright loving face to poor Rhoda that day.

Mrs. Lewis was lying down, and so the old lady and the young girl had a little time alone together.

"Oh, Mrs. Hayes," said Rhoda, "you know what is going to happen, and I can't be reconciled to it. If it had been your Milly, I would have done anything in the world for such a sister. Oh, how I would have loved her! But this—"

"Hush, my child," said Mrs. Hayes, "say nothing that you ought not to say of one whom you are to receive as your brother's wife. Don't think me unkind, dear Rhoda, but I did not come to listen to complaints. It is of no use to spend time and breath in murmuring over what we can't help; we want both for something better."

"I know it," said Rhoda, "but I am very weak and wicked. She has been here to-day, and it has made dear mother ill to talk with her. Such conceit, such—"

"I told you I would not hear it," said Mrs. Hayes. "Rhoda, you are God's child. For reasons that you and I cannot yet see, it pleases your Father to allow something to happen that you don't like. Your brother uses his right to marry whom he chooses and your duty is to throw all your influence, all your efforts, into the scale for his happiness. It is an opportunity for you to deny yourself, to be a peace-maker, to do your best to meet and turn aside those things which you think likely to show him by-and-by that he has not chosen wisely. Never let him think so, if you can do anything to help it."

Rhoda looked up in the fine old face that bent over her. She saw it was in thorough earnest, wise and righteous earnest.

"Oh, don't be angry with me," she whispered, "it is hard, oh, so hard, to have to live with her."

"Granted," said Mrs. Hayes; "is it fixed?"

"Yes, Edward has prevailed on my mother, and we are to stay."

"It is not wise, so far as my poor judgment can see," said Mrs. Hayes; "but, being decided, there is nothing but to make the best of it. So put away every other plan that you would have preferred. You know, I dare say, that the feeling between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law is not always affectionate or pleasant, but it may be made better or worse by one situated as you are. A selfish, mischievous sister-in-law may widen the breach, and hinder love and respect on both sides; but a self-denying, wise, Christian sister-in-law may smooth over differences, hide faults, put kind constructions on mistakes, and humbly, meekly store up only honey in the hive. Will you do this to the honour of the dear Saviour you profess to love? You may never again have such an opportunity to fight out self and bring a blessing on this house."

Rhoda knew that her venerable friend was right, and that a clear duty lay before her, and the evil dispositions which had been getting the mastery received a very timely check.

"You know, dear child," continued Mrs. Hayes, "that it is written,—

"'I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me.'

"And you have the promise that with the trouble—

"'a way of escape shall be made that you may be able to bear it.'

"Will you try? Think what you owe to Jesus, and what you still expect from Him; and when He allows a trial of your sincerity and obedience to come, do you mean to say, 'No, Lord, I don't like it, and I'm not going to bear it for Your sake; give me a trial I shall not feel to be a trial'?"

"Oh, Mrs. Hayes, I am ashamed of myself, indeed I am," whispered Rhoda, bursting into tears; "I will trust, I will try."

"Then you will triumph, my dear, never doubt it," said Mrs. Hayes, raising the tearful face and kissing the hot brow.

"'There are briars besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Him
Is happy anywhere.'"

Mrs. Hayes made no attempt to remonstrate with Mrs. Lewis on the decision to which she had consented. The thing was done; there was no use in controversy about it now, and she could readily understand how the mother's heart would cling to her only son.

"It will not be long," she said, "that I shall need an earthly home at all; and, while I live, earnest loving prayer will still in a way consecrate the dwelling of my boy. He seems a little nearer to God through a Christian mother's heart than when left to himself: then no prayer, no Bible, no blessing will be here."

"Well, Rhoda, you are a good girl, and you shall have the prettiest gown that money can buy," exclaimed Edward, as he surveyed all the little arrangements she had made for the reception of his bride. "I never thought my little Methodist of a sister half so good and kind. Everything is famous indeed, mother."

The furniture of the house was the property of Mrs. Lewis, who had also a very small income of her own; and now instead of Edward living with her and paying his share of the expenses, she and Rhoda were to live with him, paying their share both for board and lodging, and to no other terms would she consent.

Edward had purchased a few pieces of more modern furniture, and his sister cheerfully bore with the displacing of the old ones, setting off everything to the best advantage, and assisting in the choice of presents from her mother, from among little valuables to which she might have made some claim for herself.

But Rhoda was indeed "making the best of it."

And when Mrs. Hayes came again, she was able to say in her own peculiar way, and as nobody else could say it, as she laid her hand on Rhoda's head:

"The Lord bless thee, child. He has done it, He is doing it, and He will do it."

So the young Mrs. Lewis came home; home to smiles, and flowers, and kindness.

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