£ibrar;)p of he trheolo^ical ^^eminar jp PRINXETON . NEW JERSEY -vyv /// - V>7 VxX* PRESENTED BY Pr e shyt er ifin Church in the U.3.A. Department of History Fresh. P. .1 &f Put». cnu, CP ) ' ^ /, J i X ‘ »'♦ i 4 .<^1 ik>VjAi r , Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/maycastletonsmisOOmcke ( U y : 1 - ' • > it iaiiilM.\\ an.liiir^ the Ix avms, F:nnti^iiirrr. p u,(j_ ll<' {H'iijt.'.l t< Mufj ( 'aslh:ttjn' s Mi^isillll. May Castleton’s Mission. BY THE ACTHOE OP “ROSE DELANEY’S SECRET,” “EDITH’S MINISTRY,” “ FLORENCE CLIFTON,” &c., &c. ul-lar^iei Ker.'e<- 3 “Charity sctiteeih long and is kisd.” PHILADELPHIA: PEESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 1334 CHESTNUT STREET. ^nte^eQ according to Act of Congress, In the year 1866, by WM. L. IIILDEBURN, Treasurer, in trmt for the PRESBYTERIAN PUBLICATION COMMITTEE, Id V.e Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 6TERB0TTPBD BY WESTCOTT & THOMSON. CONTENTS CHAPTEK I. PAGE DREAMS 5 CHAPTER II. MISTAKES 19 CHAPTER III. TinNKINQ AND ACTING 31 CHAPTER IV. PATIENCE TRIED 49 CHAPTER V. MAY’S COUSINS 65 CHAPTER VI. HENRY’S BIRTH-DAY 80 3 4 CONTENTS, CHAPTER VII. PASS FAREWELL 10 AJIERICA 97 CHAPTER VIII. VISIT TO THE GLEN lU CHAPTER IX. MAY’S MORNING WALK 130 CHAPTER X. RIDES AMONG THE MOUNTAINS 114 CHAPTER XL THE CONVENT OF ST. BERNARD 165 CHAPTER XII. THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE FLOCK 185 CHAPTER XIII. MAY HAS FOUND HER SnSSION. 205 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. CHAPTER I. DREAMS, It is Sabbath evening, calm and still. A heavenly glow spreads over the lovely landscape ; the sun is drop- ping his last rosy rays behind the distant hills ; the cattle are lowing softly as they are seen quietly return- ing home ; the birds are singing their twilight melodies among the trees. A fine old family mansion, with its piazza stretching all around the house, forms a striking feature of this pretty picture. Situated in the midst of a 1 » 5 6 MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION. noble park, it is delightfully shaded from the summer sun. There are many rustic seats scat- tered about under the leafy trees, and upon one of these is seated a young girl in the first blush of dawn- ing womanhood. She is thinking deeply ; a book lies on her lap, and her hands are folded listlessly over the volume. On this sweet Sabbath day, an im- portant era had just dawned upon May Castleton’s life. Seventeen years of childhood and youth have already passed, and amid the hallowed asso- ciations of the village church, she had that day taken upon her fresh young soul the obligations of the Christian covenant. It was to her peculiarly a solemn and eventful act, for May would be the only professed disciple DREAMS. 7 of the Lord Jesus beneath her father’s roof. She thought much and deeply over the impressive scenes in the house of God. “ Thine forever” was the spirit of that open consecration, and May Castleton felt what need there was of divine grace to guide her in the path that she had chosen. Her cousin, Ellen Hazleton, had partaken in the solemn acts of the morning, but although faithfully in- structed, the levity of her natural character awakened many fears in the hearts of friends anxious regarding her Christian character. She dearly loved her cousin May, was an impres- sible character, and sympathy with other young friends had much to do with the public profession of the morning. 8 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. Ellen’s brother Henry had regarded the scene with feelings of uneasiness, for well he knew the earnest character of May Castleton, and regarded this open profession as a declaration that henceforth their paths must lie in spirit far apart. If he could only hope that May would be an accommodating Christian, like some that he could name among his acquaintances in IS’ew York, he should not feel so much repugnance ; but for this, he had no hope, and he felt the risings of an unrenewed will against the sacrifice. There will be many trials in the journey of the young Christian, for she will be all alone, as a discijde of the Lord Jesus, in the domestic circle. May is thinking of all this, as in a DREAMS. 9 deeply serious mood, she recalls the acts of the morning. The memory of her mother returns with all her heavenly teaching, on this quiet evening. She has been a saint in glory for four years ; but May re- members the twilight hours, the walks together to the house of Giod, the meek and lowly example of that dear l^arent, the lingering months of sick- ness, the patient sutfering, the blessed hopes and triumphs of the dying- hour, and she recalls with reverential love, the last charge of that beloved mother. The first glow of disciple- ship is fresh within the young heart, and she is planning for the future; but May has much to learn, and much to conquer ; and like many other young servants of God, must learn by mistakes made in the heat of youthful 10 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. zeal. She raises her eyes for a mo- ment, and turning her head towards the gate of the avenue, the form of a young girl is seen advancing. It is Ellen Hazleton, a cousin of about her own age, who resides near “the Elms,” for this is the name of the Castleton homestead. “ I am glad to see you, Ellen,” said the young girl ; “ come, sit down, I want to talk with you.” “ What are you reading, May?” in- quired the young lady. “ The ‘ Young Disciple,’ was the an- swer, “ but it is very discouraging, for I am afraid that I shall never be like Anzonetta Peters.” “ I should be very sorry if you should be such a sad mournful Chris- tian as she was, dear May.” “ But you forget, Ellen, that it was DREAMS. 11 not her religion that made her sad ; it was her affliction ; her piety was a source of the purest happiness.” “ Well, May, if she had been in good health, she would have been one of those heavenly beings who are too good for earth. For my part, I don’t believe that religion requires us to give up all the pleasures of the world ; if I had thought so, I would never have joined the church.” “ But, Ellen, let us think for one moment what we have covenanted to- day; words must have some mean- ing ; our obligations are very solemn ; we have promised, dear cousin, to be the Lord’s, and are therefore bound to renounce whatever interferes with such a service.” “ Why, May, very few people seem to take such a serious view of it as 12 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. you do. When I Avas in iN’ew York last year, I used to see church-mem- bers at the opera, and the theatre, and in the ball-room, just doing as other people. “ Yes, Ellen, I know all that, but I am still coiiAunced that to be a happy Christian, the whole heart must be giA'en to the Saviour ; if not, it will be a very miserable service.” “ I am afraid. May, that you are going to be a real little Methodist. I don’t believe that Uncle Castleton will consent that his lovely daughter should immure herself so wholly from the world.” “I cannot be contented, Ellen, just to live as so many Christians do. Last week I Avas reading about Esther Wingate, Avho has so lately gone out DREAMS. 13 as a Missionary to China. What would I give to be a Missionary !” “ What do you think of her mar- riage, May ? I was told that she only knew Mr. Taylor one week.” “ Is that really so, Ellen ? that does indeed seem like a matter of business ; but really I do believe that I have some talents, and we are told not to bury them under a bushel ; I must do something for the Lord, Ellen.” “ There comes brother Henry,” said Ellen, and a youth of twenty appeared upon the avenue. “Well, coz,” said the young man, “ I suppose that you are really sepa- rated from all your old companions now ; I tell you that I did not feel very highly pleased when I saw you before the church to-day.” “Why so, Henry? You certainly 2 14 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. do not think that I shall love ni}'- dear cousins any the less, l3ecaiise 1 have promised to love and serve my Sa- viour more.” “Xot exactly that, May, but I know something of your earnest nature, and I am pretty sure that if what you are pleased to call duty interferes, I shall miss many of our pleasant rambles and delightful horse-back rides.” “ Would you like to know one of my wishes to-day, Henry ?” said the young girl, turning her sweet face upon her cousin. “ Certainly, May, if it concerns your humble servant.” “ I wished, oh ! how earnestly, that you were among the number of those who presented themselves to-day.” “You did, coz? I thank you for your kind wishes ; but I must taste a Herirv sat rapping las cane impafieiitlv an his boats. May Cai^tUtini's Mission. 1 \ 15 . / j DREAMS. 15 little more of the good and beaatiful world, before I consent to become such a devotee as you would ap- prove.” “ I shall remember you in my prayers, cousin.” “ What is this that you have here ?” he said, taking up her book. “You are too serious. May, you will lose all your charming spirits, if you become such an enthusiast.” Tears sprang into the dark eyes, as she felt how little sympathy there was now between herself and the cousin who had always been dear to her as her own brother. Henry sat awhile with his head bowed, and rapping his cane impa- tiently upon his boots. “It is too bad, May ; I had hoped that when we should visit Yew York 16 MAY Ot\STLETON’S MISSION. next winter, I should have your com- pany in many a gay party ; now, I supjiose that I must go alone to opera, liall, and theatre, for May is no more one of us.” “ There is something Henry, so much better. I felt it so deejily this morning when Ave sang that SAveet hymn,” and she repeated the lines, “ 0, happy day ! that stays my choice On thee, my Saviour and my God ; Well may this glowing heart rejoice And tell thy goodness all abroad. ’ ’ By this time, the shadoAvs of even- in o- warned them to return to the o house. “ Where have you been so long, sister?” said little Flora. “ I haAm been out under the trees AAuth my book, until Henry and Ellen joined me,” DREAMS. 17 “ I have wanted you so much, for 1 am so lonesome when you are away, papa has been up stairs so long, and brother Edward is out riding still.” “ Why did you not get a book. Flora?” said the sister, “that would amuse you.” “ I get tired of books. May, I want some one to tell me nice stories with their own words.” Henry looked towards May, and wondered if this ministry were not a part of her mission ; perhaps she may find it so, if she really desires to serve her Master. May Castleton was really a very lovely girl, with a warm impulsive heart, anxious to know her duty that she might glorify her Master; but like many young disciples, in looking out upon the world as her field of 2 » 18 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. labor, she had forgotten her invalid father, a brother younger than her- self, and little Flora, a sister about ten years of age, whom she might bless if looking in upon her own household. MISTAKES. 19 CHAPTER II. MISTAKES. It is the close of a very busy day, for May has been out all the morning among her Sunday School class visit- ing them, and leaving a tract at each humble cottage; but there are some strangely dissatisfied feelings in her young heart as she stands at the par- lor window looking out in an ab- stracted manner upon the landscape. “What are you dreaming about, May?” asked her father. She started from her reverie, and replied, “Many things, dear papa, I can scarcely tell what.” 520 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. “ I wish, May, that you would stop dreaming, and commence acting like . a really sensible, useful girl.” “I am trying to be useful, papa; all the morning I have been out among my Sunday School children, but they are so idle and vicious, that I don’t think I am doing them any good.” “1 would not give a fig for all your religion. May ; it is all cant and hy- pocrisy. I heard you tell your little sister to go out and play with the coachman’s little boy ; and while you are rambling all around the neighbor- hood in search of a mission, there was poor little Flo tearing around the wood-pile, and in the stable-yard, learning all kinds of improiDer lan- guage from this rude boy.” May dropped her head, for tins was all true, and it darted through her MISTAKES. 21 mind as a ray of liglit shot by a keen arrow. “Have you practiced any to-day?” continued the father in an impatient tone of voice. “ I have had no time, papa ; I was home, I was very tired, beside my morning reading had to be attended to in the afternoon.” “I tell you. May, I will have no more of this nonsense; I have gone to the expense of a fine instrument, and , the best teachers ; I have spent hun- dreds upon your music, and I expect you to cultivate your talent for my amusement.” May was deeply mortified by her father’s reproofs, and the more so, as she felt that they were not wholly un- deserved. MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. Assembled at the tea-table, Mr. Castleton’s anger was again aroused by Flora’s appearance; her face and hands were unwashed, her hair di- sheveled, and her dress in a most un- tidy condition, her shoe-strings untied, and the little maid altogether most unfit to sit down at her father’s table. “Ma}'’, just look at your sister; I wonder that you are not ashamed of yourself ; she is not fit to sit down in a decent kitchen. Send her out of the room directly;” and poor little Flora was sent off in disgrace to the cham- bermaid. “I wish that you would attend to my shirts, sister,” said Edw^ard ; “ when I went to my bureau to-day, not one had buttons on the wristbands, and I had to pin them to keep them closed.” “ Do you ever think. May, how many MISTAKES. 23 you have to step over to get after your poor children ? I should think a great deal more of your piety, if I could see it make you more faithful at home. Your mother was one of the best Christians that I ever knew, but she never neglected any of her home duties.” May was sorely mortified. A most uncomfortable meal was eaten that night, for the poor girl felt that these reproaches were all deserved; tears mingled Avith her food, and she was truly glad when they arose from the table. Taking an early opportunity. May Avatched Avhen her father Avas alone. “Forgive me, dear papa,” said the young girl; “I have not thought enough about my home duties; but, by Grod’s help, I Avill try to do better. 24 MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION. I lost my mother very young, and I miss my kind and faithful teacher.” This always touched a tender point in Mr. Castleton’s heart, and he re- plied, “ I know all about that, May, for there were not many like your mother ; it was a great loss to a little girl.” “Shall I play for you, papa?” said his daughter, and opening the piano, she entertained him for an hour most patiently. His good-humor was quite restored, and when he retired, a kiss of recon- ciliation comforted poor May. Going to her room an hour’s careful self-communing shed floods of light upon the young Christian’s path, and revealed the numerous mistakes which in her over- zealousness she had been led to commit. Carefully placed away MISTAKES. 25 among her treasures, was her mother’s journal. May had often read its pages, and this evening especially, she felt the need of such guidance. What a record of sweet household cares where all were remembered ! Her husbana’s comforts, her children’s Avants, her servants’ Avelfare, the numberless in- stances of attention to all those little things Avhich serve to make a quiet, happy home. The daily communion of her heart Avith her Saviour AA^as here recorded, and May understood fully hoAv all her Avisdom, and strength, and love, AA^ere learned at the Master’s blessed feet. There was nothing too small for this faithful AAufe and mother, and May saAV hoAv she had gained such influence over all her household. We aauII give 3 26 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. one extract which drew tears from her daughter’s eyes. “ It has been a trying day, but I have been able to cast all my cares upon the Lord, and he haf5 strength- ened me. Dear husband was very impatient to-day, but he was sutfering from the gout. I tried to bear with him, gave up an invitation to sister Mary’s, and stayed at home to cheer him. “ I sang some of his favorite songs, and was rewarded by such a loving kiss, as he murmured, ‘ Bless you,, my patient wife ! how shall I ever re- pay you for all your kindness?’ I felt very happy, because I had done my duty ; Giod blessed me in denying self and seeking to do good.” Another extract. “ My Christian patience was put to MISTAKES. 27 the utmost trial to-day ; nothing that I did could please my husband — he was so harsh, so unkind, that my heart was almost broken ; but I was comforted by the thought of my Sa- viour’s trials. “ Spent such a happy hour in com- munion with my Saviour ; bore my dear children on my heart before God. “ I see much to cheer me in my darling May — many marks of the Spirit’s blessed teaching. May she be led into the Saviour’s precious fold. If I am taken, and I have many warn- ings, may she be spared to bless her father. Perhaps, some day she may read these records ; if so, may she heed her mother’s counsels. “ Remember, my darling child, that home is a woman’s province. In its 28 MAY CASTLETOX’S MISSION. sweet sanctity, eveiy Avord you utter, every act you perform, may either leave a blessing or a curse. Be con- tented, my child, out of the sight of the busy bustling world to exercise your loving ministry — seek not great, but holy, hear^enly things. Do not be impatient, my daughter, Avith your father, he suffers from seA^ere attacks of sickness, and his disease is a most trying one. “ Be very particular about little things — see that his room is always proAuded Avith everything that he needs. I ahvays make it my care that he shall not have to ask for anything, it irritates and Avorries him. Do not reply Avhen he is impatient ; be very tender toAvards your father, tender as I was, darling. Do not neglect your brother ; do not let him miss his MISTAKES. 29 mother ; attend to his clothes, his books, his home-comforts, even his amusements. May. Be watchful of little Flora ; see that she always ap- pears in a neat and becoming manner before her father ; be careful to train her in all those little proprieties which he values so highly. “ It is a serious thing to bean elder sister. Your character, dear May, will have a powerful influence at home. I hope that you will often read these records ; do not forget your mother, May; prepare to follow me to that blessed world where I am waiting for my loved ones. I hope to meet you all, for God has promised to answer prayer; and in the day when Jesus gathers home his own, I hope to be reunited to all whom I have loved on earth.” 30 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. May read these words with a deeply touched and tender spirit. New thoughts were stirring in the young heart which will hear much fruit. CHAPTER III. TSUfKING AND ACTING. May fell asleep thinking over the contents of her mother’s journal. She recalled the sweet pale face, the serene and holy temper ; and in dreams the mother’s image visited her daughter. By early dawn, she was astir — her mother’s picture being opposite her bed, the tender, thoughtful eyes seemed to follow her with unusual power, and she could almost imagine the voice from those dear lips calling to her daughter from out the frame, “ What are your plans to-day, my darling? have y ou formed any resolutions ? 31 32 MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION. will you listen to the still, small voice ?” Rising early, May seated herself by her little table, with her open Bible. What wilt thou have me to do ?” was really the language of the young heart as she turned over its sacred pages. Carefully she sought out every pas- sage tliat referred to the duty of a child or sister, and with a deeply humbled spirit prayed that these holy precepts might be written with a dia- mond pen upon her heart, and shine forth in her daily life. Flora slept in the room with her sister, and as soon as May was ready, a cheerful voice was rousing the sleeper. “ Come, Flo, don’t you hear Ibe birds singing their merry songs ?” THINKING AND ACTING. j and May stooped over lier little sister, ! and kissed her atFectionately, “ Please don’t, sister, I am so sleepy,” said the little girl. “You must rouse up dear, for papa wants to see us both at the table in time ; Ave are going to turn over a new leaf, Flo, so let us begin at once.” Sitting up in bed, she commenced rubbing her eyes, and in a few minutes was out of bed, cheerfully making her toilet. Sister May was very kind in help- ing the child, and dressed in her pretty pink chintz, and neatly ruffled white apron, with her cheeks so rosy, and her lovely brown hair so neatly curled by sister May, she really was a darling little sister, and smiled most loidngly when receiidng May’s ivarm kiss. “ How nice this is, sister !” said the 34 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. child, “ if you will only do this every day, I shall always he ready, and papa Avill not have to scold any more about my untidy dress and late hours.” “ This is one of the new leaves we are turning over, Flo,” was the answer, and taking the child’s hand, they pro- ceeded to the breakfast-room. Papa was not quite ready, and Flora ran out to the garden to gather a sweet bouquet to place beside his plate. Mr. Castleton was just entering the room, as Flora stej^ped in from the window opening down to the floor. •• Here papa, is your favorite flower,” and she handed some fragrant hya- cinths. “ This is pleasant, indeed,” said the father, as he looked upon his two daughters so fresh and smiling. THINKING AND ACTING. 35 “ This is your work, May, is it not?” asked Mr. Castleton. “Yes, papa, I have been thinking, oh ! so much, since yesterday, and now I am ready to act ; I don’t think that you will have to complain of your daughter soon again.” After breakfast. May called her lit- tle sister to her room, and examined her progress in her daily studies — she was terribly mortified at the child’s ignorance of the common things, which every one of her age should be well acquainted with. Flora attended a school in the neighborhood, for small children, but hitherto, had been al- lowed to go and come Avithout any home supervision whatever. “ What does Miss Maria say about your lessons. Flora?” asked her sister. The child hung her head. 36 BIAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. “She says that I am very idle; even little Bessie Gray, who is only seven years old, knows more than I do.” “ There must be another new leaf,” continued the sister ; “ bring your books to mo every day. Flora, and I will see that Miss Maria is annoyed no more in this way.” The new ways excited no little fric- tion, for it was not a very easy task to overcome the idle habits of careless little Flo ; but perseverance accom- plishes wonders, so the child found much to her satisfaction, when Miss ]\[aria praised her well-recited lessons. Soon after breakfast. May bent her steps to the house-keeper’s room. “ Good morning, Mrs. Lisle,” said the young lady, as she seated herself on the dark, chintz-covered sofa. “ I am glad to see you, my dear ; it THINKING AND ACTING. 37 has been a long time since you have paid me a visit.” “ That is all true, Mrs. Lisle, but I have come to-day to talk about mamma. You know that I was seven- teen last week, and I think that it is time that I should try to follow dear mamma’s ways — she was such a good house-keeper, won’t you tell me some- thing of her plans ?” The good woman looked up sur- prised, for it was such a rare thing to see May at all interested in these matters. “ It would be a blessed thing if you should ever be like that sweet saint, Miss May.” “ How did she regulate affairs ? Won’t you tell me some of her rules, Mrs. Lisle?” “ She was a very early riser, my 4 38 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. dear ; her first hour was always spent at her devotions ; after breakfast, she arranged the affairs of the da}^ — she had a particular day for everything ; she never allowed any clothing to go into the wash, without first being mended. It v/as her custom to ar- range her husband and children’s bureau drawers, keeping everything in perfect order. In the spring and fall, she examined the whole family wardrobe ; whatever was too much worn for repairing, was put aside, for some families who depended upon the ‘ Elms ’ almost entirely for their cloth- ing.” “ She must have been very busy, Mrs. Lisle,” replied May, with a thoughtful face. “ Yes, my dear, she wasted no time, but she was so systematic and orderly. THINKING AND ACTING. 39 that she was always ready to receive your father, and generally rode out with him before tea — then she had a day when her poor families came to receive their allowance of groceries or clothing, and though so much was done, it was all in such a quiet, gentle way, that one could scarcely believe how much she accomplished.” “ I want to follow mamma’s ways, Mrs. Lisle ; I don’t want to meddle with your affairs, but I am sure that I can do something to aid you ; can’t I be of some use in my father’s house ?” “You could take charge of your father’s, brother’s, and sister’s clothes, I think ; could wash the breakfast things, look after the silver, learn the art of preserving and pickling, and see especially that Mr. Castleton’s own 40 MAT CASTLETON’S MISSION. room is in perfect order — your mamma was so particular about that. I am sure, Miss May, that it would please your father so much.” “ Thank you, Mrs. Lisle,” said May, and taking up her mamma’s little basket, she furnished herself with the needful keys, and commenced at once her new vocation. Next morning, papa watched his daughter with an earnest look, as plac- ing her basket on the table, she took her seat at the waiter, and commenced the business of serving the family. Papa could not take his eyes off his daughter, as clad in her neat white apron, she carefully washed the break- fast things, counted the silver, and set all away in the pantry — then locking the door, she deposited her bunch of keys in her basket, and was leaving THINKING AND ACTING. 41 the room when her father called her. “ Come here, May. Do you know, my child, how much you remind me of your mother ? This Avas her con- stant custom ; it is a pleasant sight to see you at all like her.” “ That is what I am trying to be, papa ; Mrs. Lisle has told me all about her ways, and I am trying to follow her.” Mr. Castleton kissed his daughter. “ That is a good child ; your mother was an angel. May, much too good for me.” Next, a visit to Flora’s bureau caused no little mortification — stock- ings not darned, strings and buttons otf in every direction ; scarcely a gar- ment was in perfect order, and the confusion was terrible. 4 « 42 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. J^’ot a single drawer was as it should be. “ Here is something to do,” said May, as she looked about her almost in despair. Her brother’s was not much better — papa’s alone was in good order, for Mrs. Lisle had carefully at- tended to this department. Thought was very busy in May’s brain, as she remembered how many days she had spent among the neighboring poor, were so sorely neglected. But ]May had really set about the work of reformation. Furnishing her- self with needles, cotton, and other working utensils, she piled a large basket with clothes, and proceeded to the house-keeper’s room with her bur- den of work. Mrs. Lisle smiled at poor May’s look of bewilderment, as she said, while her own family THINKING AND ACTING. 43 “What is all this, my dear? you have enough work there for a week.” “ It is not the half of what I have to do,” replied May, with a discour- aged look. “Let me see,” said the good woman, as she lifted up the garments. “ Oh ! it is not quite so bad — a button or two on one, a string on another, but these new collars on the shirts will be the most troublesome.” “ I am determined, Mrs. Lisle, to do them all ; I know that I shall have two weeks of really hard work, but it won’t be so again. I’ll take mamma’s plan, and attend to the mending weekly.” Down she seated herself, and with a cheerful spirit commenced her work ; all the morning she sewed industri- ously, but according to her promise. 44 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. she must find two hours daily for practice, and as soon as dinner was over, she seated herself at the piano. She had not been long at the in- strument, when she heard the sound of carriage wheels, which stopped at the door. In a minute, the bright face of Cou- sin Henry appeared at the window ; throwing up the sash, he entered. “ Come, May, we are going to have a splendid ride to the Falls; Ellen is out in the carriage. Get on your things in a hurry ; we cannot wait a minute.” May’s countenance fell. “ I cannot go, Henry. I have been so very busy all the morning, and I promised papa that I would practice two hours daily ; if I go with you, I shall break my promise.” THINKING AND ACTING. 45 “ J^'onsense, May ! Can’t you make it up to morrow ?” “ No, Cousin Henry ; each day brings its duties. I shall not be so dreadfully hurried after a few weeks, but it is all my own fault just now. You must excuse me this time.” “ I don’t believe you want to go, May ; it is just some of your miserable puritanical notions about your duty, that have got hold of you. You are not at all the girl that you used to be. Just come, May, only this once.” May’s eyes filled with tears, for the close work of the morning had made her a little nervous, and she really did so want to go with her cousins ; it was such a disappointment, and poor May leaned her head upon her hand, and sobbed outright. “ Forgive me. May, this time,” said 46 MAY castleton’s mission. her impetuous cousin, “you are the best little thing in all the wide world; but it is just your goodness that pro- vokes me so, it is always in the way of some of our pleasures,” May smiled sweetly on her cousin as she replied, “ The very first ride I take shall be with you; I’ll do double work rather than disappoint you, Henry, but you must go this time without me.” “ I shall not have one bit of pleas- ure, for I had set my heart on taking you with us to meet the Englishes, and staying to supper; a ride home by moonlight would have been so de- lightful, But good-bye. May, I’ll for- give you this time.” And the carriage drove away with her lively cousins. We must excuse May if she shed some very natural THINKING AND ACTING. 47 tears. But a few minutes’ reflection satisfied her that she was right, and she felt very happy when, at the tea- table, she could tell her father how faith- fully she had redeemed her promise. Ere retiring that night, she took for her study the beautiful chapter* which contains those holy traits of Christian love, or “ charity.” The first attracted her attention, and upon it she dwelt especially. “ Charity sufihreth long and is kind.” Placing it by the side of kindred passages, it really seemed to breathe of heaven. “Be ye kind one toward another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another.” “ Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” * 1 Corinthians, xiii. 48 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. May saw its beauty, but she also saw the law of selfishness in her mem- bers warring against this holy, heav- OXily grace. “ How shall I ever learn such sweet forbearance ?” whispered May. “ Come, learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart,” and bowed at Jesus’ feet, the young disciple prayed, oh! how earnestly, for the long-suf- fering tenderness of the loving Sa- viour. Perhaps she did not realize how much of that holy temper had ruled her action throughout the day. She felt her short-comings, but Jesus saw the love that prompted the self-denial of the day. Sweet was her rest that night, and blessed the awakening on the morning of another day. CHAPTER IV, PATIENCE TRIED. Up betimes, the birds were not more joyful than May. Her Bible reading was refreshing, and her communion with her Saviour sweet and holy. With a spirit full of the love of her Master, and gushing out towards all his creatures, she prepared for her daily duties, and anxious to please papa especially, she hurried into the kitchen. “ Betty, will you let me make some ^chocolate this morning? Papa is so fond of it, and I think I can make it just to suit him.” 6 49 50 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. “ Certainly, Miss May, you’re wel- come at any time to come here, I’m always glad to see your bright face.” ■May set to work, and Betty watched the performance; when finished, the good-natured cook jironounced it just the thing, and May was very proud when she saw the little silver coffee- pot filled with smoking chocolate, and the delicate toast jirepared by her own hands, carried into the breakfast room. “ God bless her dear heart !” said the old woman, “ she’s going to he just like her dear mother; so thoughtful for such a young thing. But I do get so mad at her cross father, when she is doing her very best, to get so few kind words.” “ Yes, so do I,” said the waiter-girl ; “ but she’s always so good and pa- tient, I never hear her say one im- PATIENCE TRIED. 61 patient word back, though he is just like an old bear, when he’s sick.” “ She’s a dear child, kind to every- body,” was the answer of old Betty. “When I have the rheumatism she waits upon me iust as if I was a lady.” May entered the breakfast room with a bright cheerful face, holding little Flora’s hand. But clouds rested upon her father’s face. “ Good morning, dear papa !” was the smiling salutation, “ how are you to-day ?” “You need not ask. May ; can’t you see that I have not slept a wink the whole night?” “ I am very sorry ; was your foot troublesome ?” “Troublesome! I have been tor- 52 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. merited all night, and to-day I am a.s cross as a bear.” Little Flora came round to give her morning kiss. “ This is something new,” growled papa ; “ take care of my foot, child,” and most ungraciously Mr. Castleton received the sweet caress. A lump of lead sank down into May’s heart. Tears would come as she seated herself at the table ; but knowing her father’s hatred of these exhibitions, she hastily wiped them away, and tried to smile as cheerfully as she could. “ Papa, I have something here that will please you, I know ; it is very nice chocolate and toast, and I made it all myself,” and May looked quite proudly upon the silver pot of smok- PATIENCE TRIED. 53 ing chocolate, and the plate of delicate cream toast. Mr. Castleton did not reply, but as soon as he tasted the beverage which was really well made, he pushed the cup hastily away, saying, “ It is as thick as mush. May ; I can’t drink such stutf — you know that I don’t like it made so thick.” “ Betty told me that it was just right, papa ; I am so sorry that it does not please you, I tried so hard,” and May, no longer able to control her feelings, burst into tears. “What are you crying about?” im- patiently asked her father. “ Can’t I say a word at my own table, but I must be annoyed by these babyish tears ?” “ Excuse me, papa, I could not help it; I was so — so disappointed.” 54 MAf castleton’s mission. And the long-suffering, patient child hastily wiped away her tears, and tried to smile. “I know, papa, that your foot must make you feel impatient, and I will try to do better another time.” After a most uncomfortable break- fast, May asked to see her father’s foot; it was very much swollen and inflamed, and she ordered John to go at once for the doctor, but with orders not to tell her father that she had sent. Going with him to the library, she arranged his easy-chair, placed his foot upon a soft cushion on another chair, and then seated herself to read the morning paper, a general custom when papa was not well. And this was all done with such a sweet, loving manner, that conscience PATIENCE TRIED. 55 did cause Mr. Castleton to soften the tones of his voice, when addressing her. As she moved around the room so quietly, placing everything in order, her father’s eyes followed her some- what kindly, for every motion brought back the lost mother of the household ; and he sighed heavily at the recollec- tion. The present attack was unusually severe, and all the patience of the young Christian was tried to the utter- most, but the remembrance of the morning smiles of her Redeemer cheered May Castleton; and though she could not be joyful, she was serene and patient. Flora was a bright, little thing, very fond of her pet-lamb, and her dog Bi- jou; the latter was a true friend to 66 MAT CASTLETON’S MISSION. the child, and was always by her side. Many a merry gambol did the two have out upon the lawn, down the avenue, and under the green trees, “ Can’t you stoj) that child. May ?” said her father, “her laughing sets me crazy ; she has been racing under my window with her dog, for at least one hour I am sure.” “ I thought you liked to see us lively, papa,” was the answer, “you know yesterday, you said, that I was such a mope.” “ Yes, I know I did, for you wear such a long face, that it gives me the horrors ; but I suppose that is the way of the saints.” “ I’ll try to be cheerful, papa, if 1 can, if only to please you. “ That is just the same as saying PATIENCE TRIED. 57 that I am hard to please ; I don’t con- sider that a very respectful way to speak to your father.” The poor tortured girl was quiet, and hearing Flora’s merry peals stepped out to stop the noise. “ Take your dog down the avenue, dear,” said the sister ; “it disturbs papa, and after a little while come in ; it is nearly time for your lessons.” In the afternoon, her cousins came to pay a visit. Ellen was a lively, animated being, and had some very amusing incidents to relate to May. There was therefore a merry party in the parlor, and the peals of laughter reached Mr. Castleton’s room. Ellen rattled off some lively music, and Henry joined in the mirth. Presently the bell in the library was 58 MAY CASTLETON S MISSION. hastily rung, and May hastened out to see what was the matter. “ Can’t you stop that clatter, May ? I was just trying to get a nap. The eternal noise of those rattle-hrained things distracts me ; I wish, if they can’t be more quiet, that they would stay at home.” “ I’ll tell them, papa ; but I don’t think that they meant to disturb you ; they are only thoughtless.” “ I don’t blame them, I blame you, May ; you know how I have been suffering, . and that I cannot bear a noise; you should have kept them quiet.” “ Well, May ! what’s the matter ?” said Henry, “ is Uncle Bruno in the dumps to-day ?” “ Don’t speak so, Henry, of my fa- ther ; he has had a very severe attack PATIENCE TRIED. 59 of gout, and begs us to be quiet ; he cannot bear a noise when he is sick.” “You must have a sweet time here, May, shut up with such a cross old bear ; you have no recreation, nothing that young people ought to have.” “ Hush, Henry,” said May, as she playfully placed her hand upon his mouth. “ God sends our trials, and if my father is sick, it is right that his daughter should be his nurse ; it is God’s will just now that I should be somewhat shut up, and if I am in the way of duty, I must be happy you know.” “You need not want to make me believe that you can be happy, de- prived as you are of so many of the pleasures of the young, and compelled to wait upon a man who is satisfied with nothing.” 60 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. “ I admit that I am not always joy- ful, but I can be patient, long-suffer- ing, peaceful, Henry ; and that is one kind of happiness.” Henry turned an affectionate glance towards his young cousin as he said, “ May, you are just akin to the angels ; I don’t like it at all, for I am really afraid that you’ll take wings some day, and leave us all behind.” “ Don’t be foolish, Henry. I am in no great danger, on that score ; if you knew how impatient I feel sometimes — how rebellious and angry at heart when papa is unreasonable, you would not call me such silly names, I am sure.” “ Xow, do you know, IMay, that I am not going home this afternoon without taking you out to ride. I am not going to put up with those pale PATIENCE TRIED, 61 cheeks and languid eyes. J ust go get your hat and mantle at once,” “I can’t, indeed, Henry; I can’t leave papa.” “ I’ll settle that. May,” and away dashed Henry into the library. “ Can’t we take May with us, uncle, we will just take a short ride? she looks so pale, and I think it will do her good.” “ She can go if she pleases, for I want to take a good nap, and if you’ll take Flora, too, the house will be quiet.” “ I am conqueror. May,” said her cousin ; “ Flo must go too, for uncle fortunately wants a quiet house, so get your duds, both of you.” In a few minutes the party were off to the falls, their favorite ride, about five miles distant. 62 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. May loved the country, and a ride through the romantic region in the open carriage was a great treat. Arrived at the falls, they rambled around among the rocks and hills, ex- ploring every familiar spot, gathering wild flowers, and chatting pleasantly as young people delight to do, in the happy freedom of perfect confidence. “ Now, May, have we not had a pleasant time?” said Henry, as he helped her out of the carriage. “ Yes, indeed ; I am much indebted to you for this delightful afternoon, but I must hurry in, and see papa.” “ Good-bye, I shall come again and steal you off ; I have brought back the roses already to your pale cheeks.” May hastened to her father’s side ; he had just awakened. “Well! you’ve got back, child, I PATIENCE TRIED. 63 hope that those young rattle-caps won’t come in a hurry again : their noise was distracting.” “ Would you not like to go into the parlor this evening, papa? you have been confined so long to the library,” and May led her father quietly along to his accustomed place on the lounge. “ Shall I play for you, papa?” asked the daughter, and May commenced one of her most soothing airs. “ Play something more lively, child; that sounds like a funeral hymn,” and May patiently complied, singing one of her most brilliant songs. “ Stop that, May, there’s no soul in such music as that; give me something grand.” Again May changed her music. “ Does that please you, papa?” she asked, with one of her sweetest smiles. 64 MAT CASTLETON’S MISSION. “ That is better ; but I suppose I am not in tune myself, or else I would enjoy music more.” And so the day closed. May had been a long-suffering, dutiful, loving child all day, and she was a tranquil, happy Christian in her evening devo- tions, and during the long hours of the silent night. CHAPTER V. MAT'S cozrsiys. The “ Cedars ” was the family res- idence of the Hazletons, not very far from the “ Elms.” The two younger members of the household had always been on the most intimate terms with their uncle’s family, for the mothers of both were sisters. Harry, the elder, was about twenty years of age, a fine, noble-spirited youth, but very impet- uous, thinking his cousin May above common mortals, rather better in fact than was desirable, and often indignant at the treatment she received at the hands of her father 6 ■* 65 66 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. Ellen, aged about eighteen, was a bright, pleasant girl, with that kind of agreeable prettiness which leaves no particular impression, good-hu- mored, jiassably intelligent. She was like the majority of young persons, with no very marked character of either good or evil ; she resembled her brother in one particular only, and that was in her warm attachment to her young cousin, May Castleton. They both admired May, and were exceedingly proud of their relative, and with good reason, for May was really very lovely, with her dark hazel eyes, her rich brown hair, deli- cate, ever-changing complexion, and a mouth that fully expressed the sweet sensitiveness of her character. A light, airy form, and a voice remarkable for its melody and volume completed the may’s cousins. 67 charms of the young girl ; but not the least was her simplicity and evident unconsciousness of her attractions. The visits of the cousins were fre- quent, and although sometimes coldly, and at others rudely received, they were not to be discouraged in their intimacy with dear May. Uncle Castleton Avas once more able to take his customary exercise, and to attend as usual to the business of his farm, and very soon the Hazletons were again guests at the “ Elms.” This time, they came to spend the day. Mr. Castleton Avas annoyed because he had some Avriting that he had wished May to do for him, and now it must be postponed for these young “ rattle- caps.” Ilorse-back rides in the morning, music in the afternoon, and teazing 68 MAT CASTLETON S MISSION. raillery all clay long, kept tlie house astir whenever Henry Hazleton was a visitor at the “ Elms.” ' Consequently, the temper of the master was in no very sweet tune, and May was con- stantly in fear of an outbreak. “ Where have you been ?” said her father, as she was dismounting from her horse ; “ you have been riding too hard. May, your pony is covered with foam. If you abuse her so, she will be good for nothing.” “We have been to the falls, papa, I did not know that we had ridden so fast. It is a very hot day, but I would not hurt Fanny for the world.” “ Tell Jim to take good care of her, and don’t take her out again to- day.” While the young girls were up-stairs, may’s cousins. 69 Mr. Castleton embraced the opportu- nity to lecture his nephew. “ How long do you expect, sir, to spend your time in idleness ? All I hear of you is that you are either gunning, fishing, riding, or boating ; I think it is time for a youth of twenty to be thinking of something else.” Henry fired up. “ You have been misinformed, sir ; this is a season of vacation, but I have regular hours for study daily. It is true, that I spend more time in recreation, but the last was a year of severe study. You may ask Professor Hunt what was my standing at college during the past year.” “ I am glad to see your spirit, boy ; but you seem such a frolicsome fel- low, that I could scarcely believe that 70 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. you could ever tame your wild spirits down to severe application.” “ I have a great deal of persever- ance, Uncle Castleton, and what I un- dertake, I generally succeed in per- forming ; I don’t think that you will be ashamed of me when I reach the bar.” A very nice dinner was set before the young guests, and May looked smiling as she served out the dessert. “ Will you take some of my blanc- mange, papa?” said the young girl; “it is my first attempt, and so is the jelly, but Betty says that it is very good.” “ It will pass in a crowd. May. I don’t think much of it,” and Henry’s ire was aroused as he saw the big tears trembling in his cousin’s eyes. “ It is capital. May,” said the youth, may’s cousins. 71 flashing an angry look at his uncle ; I wish that Ellen could make some half as good ; I think, uncle, that you • might give May some credit for what she does.” “ Boys like you had better mind their own business, sir ; I can regulate my own family without your help.” “Don’t speak so, Henry,” said May, with an imploring look, “ papa don’t j mean anything.” I Henry tapped his boot angrily un- der the table, and bit his lips in his attempts to restrain his temper. “ Where is my wine. May ?” asked her father, “ I don’t see any on the table.” “I told Hannah not to put it there, papa, for I heard Dr. Jones tell you the other day not to indulge in drink- ing wine after an attack of the gout.” 72 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. Mr. Castleton flared up. “ How dare you give sucli orders ? I am ca- pable of taking care of myself. If I choose to drink wine, I’ll take as much as I please without the doctor’s leave, or yours either, and let me tell you, miss, that you have a deal of imper- tinence to give such orders.” Poor May ! she thought that she v/as doing right, and now what a ter- rible explosion ! “Excuse me, papa; it was well- meant at least ; I saw how much you suffered, and I did not suppose that you would want any wine.” “ Keep your opinions to yourself. When I give up my wine, I will give the orders myself; do you hear, May ?” “ Yes, papa, I hear, and will try to attend to your commands;” and May’s MA-S’S COUSINS. 73 eyes cast an imploring glance towards her father. But he did not notice the look, and vouchsafed no answer. “ Brute !” murmured Henry, be- tween his teeth, which, fortunately, none heard but May ; for glancing towards her cousin, her look sealed his lips for the rest of the meal. And thus the long-suffering patience of gentle May Castleton was daily perfected in the life of the young Christian. She had prayed for the “ charity which suffereth long and is kind,” and the prayer was answered, while the school for its silent, powerful ministry was in the sanctuary of home. It will not be in vain, for seeds of love bring forth “ fruits of righteous- ness.” r 74 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. After tea, the cousins were walking in the piazza, while Edward and Flora were engaged in a romp down the avenue, “ How can you put up with uncle’s unkindness. May?” inquired Henry. “ Is he not my hither, Henry ? and tlien you do not know how much he suffers from his disease ; I have always been told that it makes people very irritable.” “Yes, I know all that. May. But he was not suffering to-day. I felt as if I must say something, and I really tliink. May, if you would show a little more spirit, it would keep him in bet- ter order,” “You forget, Henry, that I am a professed follower of the meek and lowly Saviour ; I have studied his character, and I long to be just like MAT S COUSIl^S. 75 him. When I first thought myself a Christian, I made such sore mistakes ; thinking that my mission was out of doors. I used to spend so much time among the Sunday-school children, and in the cottages of the poor, that I ne- glected my duties at home; it tried papa very much, and I resolved by God’s help to do my duty in that sta- tion of life where he has been pleased to place me.” “ Do you think it wrong to be a Sunday-school teacher, and a visitor of the poor. May ?” “No, indeed ; I think it a great privilege and a sacred duty, but I do not believe that I should leave one : duty unperformed at home, for the ! sake of out door benevolence.” I “ You are a good, sober, little Chris- tian, May ; but don’t get angelic too 76 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. fast, if you do, you will glide away from us too soon, and seek your native skies.” “ Nonsense! Henry, I am not in the least angelic ; hut I do admire that beautiful chapter in Corinthians, where it describes the loveliness of Christian charity, I study it almost daily.” “ I am sure. May, that you have attained one of the heavenly graces ; for if you are not long-suffering and kind, I do not know where to look for one who is.” “ If there is anything about me like the Saviour, the credit is not mine, Henry — for I know that I am natu- rally like others, proud, selfish, and impatient ; if I have any of his lovely temper, it is all by grace.” “ If your patient love does not over- may’s cousins. 77 come Uncle Castleton at last, I shall ,| say he is no better than a brute, May.” “ Don’t, Henry, speak so of my fa- ther ; I know that he loves me, and I am sure the day will come when he will show it more openly than he does now. I can wait.” “ By the way. May, do you know that next Thursday is my birth-day ? I shall then be twenty, and it is to be celebrated by an evening party ; you must come of course.” “ If I can, nothing would please me more ; but papa’s attacks are so un- certain, I cannot promise.” “ He is not going to be sick. May. You must wear a white dress, and nothing but rose-buds in your hair ; bring some of your music, too.” The cousins took an early departure, 78 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. and their last injunction as they drove otf was, “ Remember Thursday, May ; keep your father well.” “ Did you ever see a more lovely girl than May?” said Henry. “If ever there was a patient, loving, gentle Christian, she is one.” “ That she is, Henry ; but I some- times think that she is rather too tame for this sinful world ; everybody can impose upon her, she is so very pa- tient and loving.” “ Did you observe her answers to that brute of a father, at the table ?” asked Ellen. “Yes, indeed! I never saw any- thing more lovely than her conduct to her father. I felt as if I could knock him down. Mark my words Ellen, she will be a blessing to him yet.” may’s cousixs. 79 “ And Edward is very trying ; he is so spoilt, so impatient of restraint, I often wonder how she puts up with his tantrums of temper.” “ She is a real Christian, Ellen. In her, we see what real piety is ; the counterfeits around us are what rejiel us ; hut such as hers must attract.” “ Miss Warren regards her as one of the brightest specimens of piety in her Bible-class,” was Ellen’s reply ; “ but the good, simple girl has not the slightest idea that she is anything but the very humblest imitation of her Saviour.” CHAPTER VI. UENlll’S BIIiTH-DAT. j\Iay is busy making preparations for the expected party. Papa is much better, even cheerful, and takes con- siderable interest in her dress. “ I think a pink silk, handsomely trimmed, would be becoming, daugh- ter ; you can easily send to New York, and have it made,” said Mr. Castle- ton. “ I have decided upon a thin mus- lin, papa, with pink sash, and rose- buds in my hair,” was the answer. “ Just as you please, my child ; but a handsomer dress would seem to suit the daughter of Mr. Castleton better.” 80 henry’s birth-day. 81 When all was ready, May arrayed herself in her simple costume, and stole into her father’s room. “That Avill do. May,” was the some- what sad remark that was made when he looked upon her; “just so your mother looked at your age.” Thursday arrived at length, and to poor May’s disappointment, papa had passed a wretched night, and was too great a sufferer to permit her to think of leaving him alone ; and with his disease, returned in full force his im- patience and irritability. “ I am so sorry, papa, to see you so much worse,” was the innocent remark of the young girl. “ I dare say that you are, for you will be disappointed of your pleasure, and instead of a merry evening with gay, young spirits, will have to put 82 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. up with a gloomy one with your sick father.” May was sorely dissatisfied with herself, for instead of submitting cheer- fully, the tears would come, and she felt the disappointment keenly. Re- tiring for a little while to her room, there lay her pretty dress and sash, her slippers and simple ornaments all so invitingly spread before her. She seated herself by the side of the bed, and for a few minutes, shed some quiet tears ; but struggling hard with her natural feelings, she bowed a moment before her Father in heaven, and prayed for submission to everything that he had sent. Wasliing her eyes, for fear that her father should see traces of tears, she quietly put aside her dress, and de- scended to his room, with the same henry’s birth-day. 83 serene and cheerful face as though nothing had happened ; and yet it had been a severe struggle while it lasted. I Tea was ordered in the library, and May presided as usual. Edward had i gone to the party, and little Flora was : the only one at the table beside May and her father. After supper was removed, papu, was comfortably placed upon the lounge, with the softest cushion that could be found for his swollen foot, the light carefully shaded from his eyes, and May seated herself to read. “ What shall it be papa ?” asked the good child. “ The evening paper first, and then ^lacaulay.” And so the young girl read on with her harmonious voice, and clear enun- ciation. No wonder that Mr. Castle- 84 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. ton was sootliecl by the sweet ministry of his gentle, self-denying daughter. After an hour’s reading, May was directed to bring some embrocation used when he was sutfering; as she arose somewhat hastily, she touched the foot. A scream of agony fol- lowed. “ Can’t you be more careful, May?” he roared with an oath. “ I beg a thousand pardons, dear papa, I did not see that your foot was off the sofa,” and she smoothed his hair, and kissed the brow so furrowed with pain. “You are a good girl, May,” said her father, touched by her affectionate ex- pressions of sympathy, “ always pa- tient with your suffering, impatient hither.” In the course of the evening a ser- !! Ij “Sec. Piijia, We’ll have a juirty after all." May Oislh:lnii' a Mia^inii. ■M i henry’s birth-day. 85 vant arrived from the “ Cedars,” with a note and bouquet for May, and re- freshments from the supj:)er-table. “ See ! papa, we’ll have a party after all,” and May brought out a little table, spread out her dainties, and then sending for good Mrs. Lisle, the house- keeper, she ran out of the room for a few minutes, and returning with the pretty rose-buds in her dark hair, she sat down with her bright young face decked with smiles, for this was a ministry of love, always bringing sun- beams. “ Now, papa, I am Avearing the rose- buds for you, for this is our party; but you must just be contented Avith what I shall give you,” and May spread before him some choice grapes, ice-cream and delicate sponge-cake. Mrs. Lisle looked at the young girl 8 8G MAY CASTLETON S MISSION. with very moist eyes, for she had seen the pretty dress all ready for the evening, and knew that the disap- pointment had been a sore one. But May had reall}'^ helped her father to forget his pain, by her womanly tact and kindness, and when she had at last seen him comfortably disposed of for the night, she had her sweet reward, as he drew her down to his breast, and kissing her fondly, said, “ God bless you, May ! You are my second good angel ; you gave up your own pleasure so cheerfully for your father’s sake.” “ But I did feel it, dear papa, and had to fight hard to keep down the murmuring; let me say just one word now, and don’t be angry — if you would only stop saying those dreadful nEXRY’S BIRTH-DAY. 87 words, papa — I hear them all night long.” “What dreadful words, May?” “When you take God’s blessed name in vain, papa.” “ It is not right, I confess, but it is such a habit May, that I don’t know when I say them. But I will try, little daughter, just to please you. Now good-night, my child, I am not angry.” May imprinted another kiss, and turned away with a tranquil, hopeful spirit. She had never said so much to her father before, and now that he had listened to her without anger, she was so thankful. As soon as she went to her room, she read Henry’s note. “ I knew how it would be, that your father would contrive to keep you 88 MAT CASTLETOX’S MISSION, at home ; I had no pleasure, May, for I had built upon your coming, but I suppose there you sat in that gloomy old library, nursing a sore foot, and smiling so serenely upon your cross old father. It is too provoking! I counted on your presence, and your sweet voice more than on any one else, and to be so disappointed is really too bad. Accept the little otfering -svhich I send, and don’t be angry at this naughty outburst, from Cousin Harry.” “ Did jmu see how sweetly Miss ]May waited upon that father of hers?” said Mrs. Lisle, to Hannah, the waiter-girl, “ Yes, indeed ! I never saw such a patient lamb in all my life; she never loses her temper, and I know it’s sorely tried many a time.” “ I knew one just like her, and that henry's birth-day. 89 was her own dear mother, Hannah ; they are as much alike as two peas — in looks, in ways, and character.” “ She is such a dear loving little thing,” was the girl’s reply ; “ all that she thinks of, is how she can make everybody happy. There is old Betty, when she is sick, Miss May waits upon her just as if she was a lady, gives the medicine herself, reads to her, and talks such good, pretty words.” “ Yes, that is just so, Hannah — kind words for every one; there is not a servant in this house that would think gold too much for her to eat, if it could do her any good. Every day she brings me my bunch of flowers the whole year round, just because she knows I think so much of them.” “ When I see Mr. Castleton so hard on her. never uivino’ her credit for 90 MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION, anything she does, and see how pa- tiently she bears it all, never showing anything but those grea,t big tears that will come, I feel sometimes as if I can’t hold my tongue, and have to hurry away for fear I shall get my walking-ticket,” “She has just such trials as her dear mother had, Hannah, Many a time have I seen that dear lamb after having done all that she could to soothe him, just go quietly to her room, I well knew to weep and pray ; but never a word passed her lips like complaint of her husband, for she knew that he loved the very ground she walked upon. But he did not make her happy for all that.” “ It is a terrible bad thing to have such a temper, Mrs. Lisle,” said Han- henry’s birth-day. 91 nah, “ I’ll take good care I don’t get such a husband.” Flora, too, was often a trying little girl, for having so long led an idle life, she stoutly resisted May’s efforts to bring her into regular systematic habits, but kindness was working wonders here also, and Flora was often heartily ashamed of the trouble which she gave to good sister May. Edward was his father’s idol, for being the only son, his father’s hopes were centered chiefly upon this boy. 1 Furnished in a most injudicious man- j ner with plenty of money, the boy was ; acquiring habits of extravagance and self-indulgence most injurious to a I wild, thoughtless youth. I The most of his time he spent out of doors ; riding, fishing, boating, gun- ning, choosing his own companions. 92 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. no matter who, so that they were what he styled “good fellows.” May often remonstrated, hut all in vain. Papa thought that “it could do no harm, it was now vacation, and soon he must 1‘eturn to school. Let him enjoy him- self while he can,” was the answer always given to the sister’s warnings. And yet Edward was very proud of his sister Mav, and loved her, too, most devotedly. Ao one could do anything with him, when bent upon some wild exploit, but his sister, and many a time, by some gentle hint, or substituted pleasure, did she lure him away from bad company. With these numerous objects of care and anxiety, she still found some time for her Sunday-scholars. Whenever it was possible, she would visit them, but as that could not be regularly, henry’s birth-day. 93 she encouraged them to call upon her, I and many a child might be seen tra- i veling up the avenue with her little ' basket, which she carried away well- filled with domestic comforts. But May was growing pale and lan- ' guid. Henry and Ellen, who were frequent visitors, observed it, and whenever they could steal her away, would manage to take her out, at least once a week, on some pleasant drive. “Do you mean to destroy your health entirely. May ?” asked her cou- sin, “ no one can stand such close confinement without suffering.” “ It is only a fancy, Henry ; I am perfectly well, only a little pale ; that is nothing.” “ You are thin. May ; your cheeks are growing hollow. I won’t have any more of this ; I am sure that you 94 MAT castleton’s mission, could ride out on horse-back every morning, if you would. Won’t you promise me? TJncle Castleton does not rise early, and an hour before breakfast would do you so much good.” It was really an inviting offer, and IMay could see no reason why she should not go. Accordingly she made the promise, and punctually at six o’ clock, Henry and Ellen presented themselves. May enjoyed these sum- mer morning rides exceedingly ; they were just what she needed; fresh morning air, and brisk exercise did Avonders ; the roses came back to her cheek, vigor to her frame, and bright animation to her spirits. “ XoAv, May, am I not a good doc- tor?” said Henry, as they cantered up the avenue after one of these morning henry’s birth-day. 95 rides ; “ you are getting as rosy as a milk-maid, and as lively as a bee.” “ I am really indebted to you, Henry. All day I feel so ditferent if I miss my ride, and it really does not inter- fere with any duty ; papa is never up when I leave home, and I am always back in time for breakfast.” “ Do you know. May, that I hear so much about your good deeds among the people around the ‘ Elms,’ that I expect some of these days to hear you sainted, certainly among the Catho- lics?” “ You are always telling me some foolish thing, Henry. It is not much that I can do for these poor peo2ole, but papa is really good to many of them, and he gets me to distribute his alms ; so there is not much due to me after all.” 96 MAT CASTLETON’S MISSION. “ There is some difference of senti- ment upon this subject, May; I’m ju’etty wilful, as you must know by tliis time, and shall continue to think as I please.” CHAPTER VII. F^UtEWJEZL TO A3IERICA. Mr. Castleton’s frequent attacks of illness had made sore inroads upon his strength, and though his chief malady was really better, his debility was increasing, and the physicians ordered a voyage across the Atlantic, and a year’s sojourn on the continent. Edward was placed at school. Flora, being rather a delicate child, was to accompany the family. Mrs. Hazleton had long desired an opportunity to visit Europe, and as her son had just graduated, to join the party seemed the best thing that she could do. The “Cedars” house was closed, 97 9 98 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. the “ Elms ” placed under the care of Mrs. Lisle, and preparations hurried forward for departure in the early au- tumn. The servants were truly sorry to part wuth “ dear Miss May,” for they all loved the sweet young girl. John, the coachman, was to accom- pany them, for having long been ac- customed to Mr. Castleton, he could not be dispensed with. May’s pastor gave her a kind letter of introduction to any Christian minister under whose care she might be placed, for she was a very dear member of his flock. There are always feelings of sadness on leaving familiar scenes and entering upon an unknown future. May expe- rienced much of this depression as she took the last look at the home of her childhood ; and little Flora shed many FAREWELL TO AMERICA. 99 tears on parting with her pets, charg- ing Mrs. Lisle again and again to take care of Bijou and Fid. It was a bright spring morning, when the carriage containing the trav- elers drove finally away from the “ Cedars.” The sun shone cheerily upon the village church-steeple as they passed, and the bells rang out a merry peal, for the pastor was to be married that morning, and the sexton had arranged that joy bells should celebrate the day. But strange to say, they brought no joyful thrill to May Castleton’s heart, and she asked. When shall 1 hear their sweet chimes again ? As the carriage drove on, fainter and fainter sounded the dear church- 100 MAT CASTLETOT S MISSION, bells, and familiar objects rapidly passed aAvay. The bustle of a great city, and the noise of embarkation somewhat changed the current of thought, and once on board of the steamer, May entered upon a new life, for she had never been out at sea. After the sea-sickness had passed away, she was never tired of looking at the grand ocean ; her father seemed so much revived by the sea air, that her spirits rose day by day, and the young people added not a little to the social circle on board. Indeed, May was the bright sun- lio'ht of the vessel. The wmather- O beaten tars, wdth their long yarns and merry songs, attracted her attention, and a little book, a paper, or a tract, FAKEvVELL TO AMERICA. 101 coming from the young lady, was always welcome to the hardy seamen. The rolling porpoise, the lively dol- phin, “Mother Carey’s chickens,” were all so many objects of wonder to the young folks, and the voyage was really so pleasant, that none of the party felt at all anxious for its close. But when the chalk cliffs of Dover first appeared, May realized that she was thousands of miles away from home, and that soon her feet would press the ground of a new continent. By the first steamer, they made a quick passage across the Channel, and on reaching Paris, Mr. Castleton pro- posed staying long enough to see the sights of the French metropolis. The novelty and grandeur of the French capital filled their young minds with wonder. The Tuilleries, 9 * 102 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. of which they had read so often, was now a reality, the Champs Elysees no longer a mere dream of fairy land, the Church of Notre Dame, an actual magnificent building, the galleries of art, stupendous wonders, and the mu- sic of the Cathedral, wings on which to mount towards heaven. But the ungodliness of Paris sadly disturbed May Castleton. No appear- ance was there of a Sabbath-day any- where. With some difficulty, in com- pany with Flora and her cousins, she found her wav to the Protestant •/ chapel. But papa soon became anxious to reach the warm baths of Germany, and having satisfied their curiosity, the party were again on the wing. Their knowledge of the French lan- guage was invaluable, for everywhere FAREWELL TO AMERICA. 103 upon the continent, travelers can be at home who speak that tongue. People of many countries crowded the hotels around these celebrated baths, and the motley group assembled daily on the piazzas, and around the environs, afforded great amusement to the young travelers, especially to Henry Hazleton. A sojourn of a few weeks wrought a great change in Mr. Castleton. May was delighted when papa could join their walking-parties and seemed to be growing cheerful once more. Win- ter was now approaching, and the party proceeded to the south of France, intending in the spring to seek the romantic scenery of Switzerland. Taking a furnished house, they found themselves delightfully situated at the foot of the mountains, where 104 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. the climate was so charming, that they could sit among the branches of the orange trees in full blossom, and enjoy their fragrance as though it were balmy spring, instead of winter. Engaging the services of professors of music, French, and drawing, the three elder ones laid out their winter’s work, while a governess was employed for Flora. Provided with abundant reading. May spent some hours daily in amusing her father ; indeed, she was now quite indispensable to his comfort. The Rev. Pierre Valette, a French Protestant, was one of their neighbors, and being a man of much intelligence, was quite an acquisition to the family circle. He was a frequent visitor, and his pastoral care was an invaluable bless- ing to the young people. When the FAREWELL TO AMERICA. 105 ■time came for a separation, all parties were sorrowful, for it was not likely that they would ever meet the good minister on this side of eternity. Being well acquainted with the pastor of the little church which they would probably attend in Switzerland, he gave them letters of introduction to Pastor St. Felix, warmly commending them to his kind offices. A journey through a most picturesque country, at a charming season, brought them at last to their stopping-place. A neat little furnished cottage situated on one of the mountain slopes of Switzerland, presented most attractions. It had previously been occujiied by travelers like themselves, in search of health and fine scenery, and May was charmed with the rural felicity which she expected beneath its roof. 106 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. A little garden of flowers and veg- etables was attached to the cottage, and John was pleased with the idea of having something to do, beside waiting on Mr. Castleton. But there was one difficulty in the way ; the house was much too small for the whole party ; so, taking an early op- portunity, they called upon the good pastor stating their dilemma. Pastor St. Felix was one of those saintly men of whom we read, in connection with the history of the Protestant ministers of those interesting regions. His silver hair and serene counte- nance gave him the appearance of being really older than he was, and here, far away in an obscure village of Switzerland, they found a man of piety, intelligence, and such refinement as FAREWELL TO AMERICA. 107 a deep acquaintance with the things of God will always supply. His daughter, Clemence, was a simple-hearted Swiss girl, who wel- comed the young people to the par- sonage with a hearty, warm glow of genuine politeness ; and though her dress ivas extremely primitive, there was something about her that attracted at once, and the youthful jiortion of the party felt that they had at least one companion among the mountains. “We are quite troubled about lodg- ings,” said Mrs. Hazleton, to the worthy man, “ my brother-in-law’s house is much too small to accommodate more than his own family, and we shall have to ask your aid in directing us to a home.” “ If you can put up with our hum- 108 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. was the reply of the good pastor; “ frequently, in the summer season we have had such occupants, and their society has often been a source of pleasure.” “ You are very good,” replied Mrs. Hazleton, “ nothing could be more agreeable to us; we had scarcely hoped for such good fortune.” “ Clemence, show the lady the rooms,” said her father. And the young girl proceeded to open the win- dows of two very neat and airy rooms, looking out upon a picturesque land- scape of the neighborhood, and a dis- tant view of the glorious Alps. Plain furniture, pure white curtains, and perfect cleanliness decided the travelers at once to engage the apart- ments. Before taking her departure, all arrangements were concluded, and FAREWELL TO AMERICA. 109 the next morning, the family took possession of their rooms. Clemence was a good musician, and her sweet performance added much to the devotions of the morning and evening sacrifice, maintained in the pastor’s home, and attended by his lodgers. Mrs. Hazleton considered herself very fortunate in having se- cured so pleasant a place of sojourn. A Swiss servant was engaged at the Castleton cottage, and Babette, with her short woolen dress, wooden shoes, and grotesque cap, was quite an amus- ing object to the young folks. Little Flora seemed never to grow tired of following her about, and asking ques- tions about the strange ways of this new country. Settled at length in a home where they should probably spend some 10 no MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION. months, ]SIay proceeded to arrange her round of duties ; reading to her father; little Flora’s lesson; her own studies, were all duly provided for. ]\Ir. Castleton seemed so much better, that she anticipated much pleasure in out-door excursions in this magnificent country. Anxious to pursue her musical studies, she found that a piano could be hired in a neighboring city, and brought in a steamer down the lake. Moreover, Clemence had received a thorough musical education at Geneva, under the best professors, and had been frequently employed by visitors as a teacher of their children. This was charming, because so un- expected, and when May found that Flora and herself could be so well provided for, she lost no time in en- FAREWELL TO AMERICA. Ill gaging tlie services of the young Swiss. Surrounded by scenery so new and beautiful, much of the first week was spent by the young people in explor- ing the neighborhood, in pointing out its beauties, and laying many plans for the future. Sunday dawned upon them brightly, and as the little church was Avithin walking distance, the sound of the church-bell stealing through the val- leys, and up the mountain slope, was most Avelcome to May. “Can I be spared to-day, papa?” she asked, “ I should like so much to go to church.” “ You can go. May, and I think that I shall accompany you ; I feel quite able to walk that far.” 112 MAY CASTLETON'S MISSION. !May was delighted, for her father seldom attended the house of God. Setting off early, they found the scene indeed most pleasing. In every direction, villagers could he seen wend- ing their way to the village church. Down the mountain, and up the glens, clad in their grotesque costumes, men women and children might be seen in groups, all bound in the same direction. The service was beautiful, because so devout and simple. Clemence sided at the organ, and the music was remarkable for a village church. The good pastor preached a solemn sermon, full of unction, full of Christ. After church, the villagers crowded around their good minister, exchanging salu- tations, and answering to his kind inquiries concerning their families. FAREWELL TO AMERICA. 113 their cares, their sorrows ; for all \\ ere his. May felt that she was under the care of a true shepherd, one of the Mas- ter’s own servants. Her young heart went out in Christian love at once, not only to the good pastor, but to the simple-hearted, pious people, though among the humblest of the Saviour’s flock. There is a blessed lesson taught in the Redeemer’s school, “ One Lord, one faith, one baptism,” and May was learning it. 10 ■* CHAPTER Vm. VISIT TO Tax: gien. It is one of the brightest clays in spring. May and Flora have just concluded their music lesson, and arc escorting Clemence to the door. “ What say you to an excursion up the glen ?” asked the young Swiss. “ It would be delightful,” was the cjuick answer, “ but I fear that papa cannot spare me so long.” “ Let me ask him, I think he will grant my recjiiest,” and away hurried Clemence to Mr. Castleton, who was reading in his little parlor. “ I am come to beg a favor, Mon- lU VISIT TO THE GLEN. 115 sieur,” said Clemence, as she stood smiling at the door. “ Well ! what is it ? I am ready to hear what you have to say.” “We are going to-morrow on our excursion up the glen ; the weather is so inviting, I came to ask whether you will not allow May to accompany us.” Mr. Castleton’s countenance fell a little ; but May had been so patient, so uncomplaining, that he could not well refuse, and replied, “ She can go, but must not stay too late.” Soon after breakfast, with their baskets of lunch, the party gaily set out. For a long distance they walked along the mountain slopes, where the fresh verdure of spring smiled in all its beauty. Passing several chalets. 116 MAY CASTL ETON’S MISSION. they stopped at length at one to buy some milk, and as the curiosity of our young Americans was highly excited, they were allowed to explore the cot- tages so ditferent from those at home. The stones lying upon the roof, the steps outside leading up to the balcony, the novelty of cattle at one end of the chalet, and the family at the other, were all objects of curiosity iSIay had often read romantic tales of the shepherdesses of the Alps, and had imagined pretty maidens, with their straw hats dressed with flowers, objects wholly ditferent from the nut- brown peasants, clad in very rough rustic garb, whom they met tending their flocks upon the mountains. “ Look there, Ellen,” said May, as she directed her attention to several of these uncouth-looking damsels, “ I VISIT TO THE GLEN. 117 am so disappointed, for I remember when I used to read Mrs, Sherwood’s beautiful stories, I so often longed to see some of these lovely shepherd- esses.” Ellen laughed as she replied, “ They are an odd-looking set. What great clumsy shoes they wear. May ! and those head-dresses are very dif- ferent things from the fancy hats that we have dreamed of trimmed with flowers.” “ Still, Ellen, they are interesting to us,” answered May, “ but hark ! they are singing some of their wild mountain airs now,” And for several minutes they stood listening to the stirring notes of a hunting song, with a chorus in imitation of a mountain horn. Having reached a most picturesque, 118 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. romantic spot, they halted for a while to enjoy the charming picture spread out before them. Though they stood on a lofty height, above them towered the majestic Alps. Scattered down the mountain slopes were many Swiss cot- tages, with their little gardens ; groups of shepherds tended their flocks on thq heights around, and far in the distance, might be seen the spire of the village church towering above the rich foli- age. The Swiss maiden directed their at- tention to an echo, and the names of Flora, May, and Clemence, were echoed and reechoed from hill to hill. At the foot of the mountain, a rus- tic bridge spanned a gentle stream, wdiich received the waters of a spark- ling cascade that came dashing and foaming down one of the mountain VISIT TO THE GLEN. 119 cliifs. And thus opened the lovely glen to which they were traveling. After enjoying their lunch under the shade of some fine old trees, they entered the glen, and here they came upon quite a settlement of Swiss peas- antry. “ This is one of papa’s hamlets,” said Clemence; “ he preaches here twice a month ; and many specimens of hum- ble piety are found among the peo- ple.” During the whole walk. May had been gathering wild flowers, and many plants which she had never seen in her native land. Knowing how fond her father was of such studies, she had brought her herbarium, and care- fully preserved her specimens. “ Here, May, let us stop to see old Margot,” said Clemence, and knocking 120 MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION. at the door of the cottage, a very de- formed cripple made her appearance. “ How are you, Margot?” “ Come in, ladies,” said the old wo- man, “ mine is a poor little hut, but I will make you welcome;” and she dusted off a rough pine bench for her visitors. “ How are you getting along, Mar- got?” inquired Clemence, very kindly. “ God is very good to me. Mademoi- selle,” said the old Avoman ; “ though I suffer very much, he gives me patience to bear my pain; and the neighbors are very kind ; Avhen I cannot work, they supply my AA^ants, so that I can ahvavs saA", ‘ The Lord is my shep- herd?” May looked AA'ith pity upon the old AAmman, for she Avas bent nearly double with rheumatism. VISIT TO THE GLEN. 121 “Do you live alone, Margot?” she inquired. “ Yes, all alone. I had a good grand-daughter once, who was a great help to her old grandmother, hut the good Father took her home when she was very young; I do not complain, for the journey will he a short one, and there will he good company at the end. I have learned to trust Grod in a school of hardship ; many of my ancestors were among the faithful witnesses of the Waldenses, who sealed their faith hy the shedding of their hlood.” ITnconsciously they traveled on, so fascinated hy the heauty all around, that they were quite forgetful of the distance which separated them from home. “ Look at the sun, Clemence,” said May, “it seems rapidly descending 11 122 MAY CASTLETON’s MISSION. beliind the mountains ; I fear that we shall be very late.” Reluctantly the part}^ turned their faces homeward, and though walking rapidly, did not arrive till very long after sunset. A long, lonely day had completely exhausted Mr. Castleton’s patience, and when May entered the parlor, she saw at a glance, that papa Avas very angry. “ I wonder you did not stay all night with your friends. May ; here have I been all day Avithout a creature to speak to ; I suppose that you forgot all about your father.” “ I hope that you Avill excuse me, papa; the scenery Avas so beautiful, and evcr^dhing so neAv, that I forgot hoAv far Aim Avere walking, and Avhen Ave turned toAvards home, it Avas quite sunset; but I did not forget you, papa; VISIT TO THE GLEN. 123 I have brought some very curious plants, such as we never saw in Amer- ica,” “You need not show them to me, May ; it is all fudge to try to make me believe that you care anything about your father. When you get with your cousins, you never know when to come home.” May was deeply pained. Poor child! she felt that her father’s re- proaches were so unjust; but she re- membered the long-suffering patience of the Master whom she served, and all her answers were kind. A glance towards her father’s secre- tary showed letters from America. “ Oh papa ! letters from home, are they not?” “Yes, and fine news do they con- tain. Your brother Edward is not 124 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. doing well at college ; here is a letter from the president, making sad com- plaints of his idleness and extrava- gance.” “I am sorry, papa, but don’t you think a little less pocket-money would be better for brother ?” “ That will do very well for you to say. May ; when you are enjoying yourself every day, and have all your wants supiolied. There is your brother cut off from his family, and you want me to deny him just the little gratifi- cation of some spending-money.” “ I don’t want him deprived of any- thing that is for his good, papa ; but if money gives him the power to waste his time, and acquire bad habits, would it not be a real kindness to withhold it?” INIr. Castleton knew that May was VISIT TO THE JLEX. 125 right, but so blind was he to the faults of his son, and so disposed to indulge I him, that the gentle remonstrance was all in vain. Notwithstanding her father’s un- kindness, May hastened to see that a nice meal was prepared, and as soon as she had put away her hat and I mantle, ran out to Babette. She was I a good friend to May, and really sympathized with the trials of the young girl. “ Come, Babette, let us have one of your nicest omelettes ; and some of J your best cream toast, pajia is so fond of them.” “ I’ll do my very best. Mademoi- selle ; never fear for Babette ; she is always ready to wait upon her young lady.” In a little while, a nice meal was 126 MAY castleton’s mission. spread upon the table, and May seated herself with her sweet loving face, never tired, though often pained by her father’s moroseness. The study of her daily life was im- pressing itself so beautifully upon the walk of the young Christian, that al- though her father would scarcely own it to himself, it was preaching its blessed silent lessons, and many a night he lay awake, thinking of the sweet pale face, and tender sorrowful eyes, following him so wistfully when he was impatient. He did not seem well when ready to retire, and IMay charged John to keep a close watch upon her father, as he slept in a small communicating room. In the middle of the night. May VISIT TO THE GLEN. 127 was aroused by John knocking at her door. “ Wake up, Miss May, master is , very ill ; I must go for the doctor at once, he has one of his worst attacks.” Trembling with anxiety, she hastily threw on her dressing-gown, and hur- I ried to her father’s bed-side. Pie was tossing Avith agony ; May knew the usual remedies, and as far as possible, with the assistance of Ba- bette, endeavored to relieve his suffer- I ings. But her trouble was greatly increased by the profane expressions that dropped from his lips. She felt his danger, for the physician had al- ways dreaded the disease reaching the Autal organs, and now it Avas attacking him in quite a new form. Leaning over him, Avith her face bathed in tears, she murmured. 128 MAY castleton’s mission. “ Oh papa ! don’t say such dreadful words ; you break my heart. Call upon God in the day of trouble, papa, but don’t take his holy, blessed name in vain.” She felt frightened at her temerity, but the distress of the moment over- came all fear. It seemed as though the doctor would never come, for John had to ride some distance before he could be found, and there was a delay of two hours ere he arrived at the cot- tage. At length, in the gray dawn of the morning. May perceived the carriage coming up the mountain, and flying to the door, she welcomed the doctor. “ I am so glad that you have come ; papa is so very ill.” May felt unspeakably relieved when VISIT TO THE GLEN. 129 she saw the ph}"sician by the patient’s ! bed-side, for she had often heard the pastor speak of this skilful physician. “ Do not be alarmed, my dear young- lady ; this is a severe, but by no means dangerous attack ; it will soon yield to active remedies.” And the good physician seated him- self for hours by his patient’s side. He was a good Christian man, and when May heard him ask permission to ask God’s blessing on the means used, her young heart went up in gratitude to her heavenly Father, who had sent a physician for soul and body boo. The violence of the symptoms speed- ily abated, and when the doctor left them, her father was comparatively comfortable. CHAPTER IX MAT’S MOMKING WAAK. This was a long and tedious illness ; consequently, the pleasant excursions were for the present at an end. Duty was very plain, and May was so cer- tain of her Master’s will, that although called upon to seclude herself so en- tirely, she was happy, for there w^as peace within. Many an impatient remonstrance was she compelled to listen to from Cousin Henry, and his sister Ellen ; many a trial of patience from wilful little Flora ; but still the child loved her sister May, and often repented when she saw the sad coun- 130 may’s morning walk. 131 tenance often caused by her perverse- ness. “ Don’t cry, sister May, I wdll learn my lessons; but it is so much better to run about with Tray ; and I do get so tired of my books. The birds can hop about the trees, and the lambs play on the mountains, but I, a poor little girl, must stay in the house over these old lessons.” “You must remember, Flo, that you are a very different being from birds and lambs. You have a soul, dear little sis, and are placed here to be a useful servant of God ; that you cannot be, without being trained for such service.” “ Yes, I know. May, but still I can- not help longing to live out of doors.” “ Just be a good, diligent child ; one hour at your lessons, another at your 132 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. music, and then you can run about with the lambs, and sing with the sweet birds all day long.” Throwing her arms around May’s neck, she kissed her dear sister again and again. “ What a dear mother-sister you are, May; I am going to be the best little thing in all the village, just see,” and away fleiv little Flo, to get her books. Seating herself on the pleasant little balcony, she set to work with good will; and shaking her finger at old Tray, who lay by her side, looking up most wistfully in her face, she said, “ There now. Tray, just be a good, patient dog for a little while, and we shall have fine fun.” The dog shook his head with an air of perfect appreciation of his little may’s morning walk. 133 mistress’ words, and drooped liis shaggy ears, at the same time wagging his tail in token of acquiescence. Since Mr. Castleton’s illness, he had been in the habit of sleeping late, and May frequently embraced this oppor- tunity to take an early walk. Accordingly one very bright morn- ing, attired in her broad-brimmed straw hat and blue ribbons, we behold her with a very sweet and happy face descending the mountain. With bas- ket in hand, and Tray trudging at her side, she walked on at a cheerful pace, singing “ Lord, with glowing heart I’d praise thee, For the bliss thy love bestows. For the pardoning grace that saves me. And the peace that from it flows.” She stopped every noAv and then to gather mosses, ferns, and minerals, for 12 134 MAY CASTLETON’S MISSION. May never forgot her father’s pecu- liar tastes. As she pursued her way, a horseman in the distance was seen ascending the mountain. May wondered who it could be at that early hour, but soon per- ceived that it was Henry Hazleton taking a morning ride. He dis- mounted, and walking by her side, said, “ I am really fortunate. May. Do you know that we have not seen you at the parsonage for three weeks? You are ruining your health. May ; your cheeks are as pale, and your eyes as hollow, as if you had been sick yourself for a month.” “ That is only fancy, cousin ; I am doing my duty ; you certainly would not wish me to be seeking my own He 'lisiiiuunted iiml Avalked by her side. Ma y . Ca.sddon's M