On the next morning, only Mrs. Darlington
met her boarders at the breakfast-table, when she
announced to them that she had concluded to close
her present business, and seek some new mode of sustaining
her family; at the same time, desiring each one to
find another home as early as possible.
At the close of the third day after
this, Mrs. Darlington sat down to her evening meal
with only her children gathered at the table.
A subdued and tranquil spirit pervaded each bosom,
even though a dark veil was drawn against the future.
To a long and troubled excitement there had succeeded
a calm. It was good to be once more alone, and
they felt this. “Through what a scene of
trial, disorder, and suffering have we passed!”
said Edith. “It seems as if I had just
awakened from a dream.”
“And such a dream!” sighed Miriam.
“Would that it were but a dream!”
said Mrs. Darlington. “But, alas! the wrecks
that are around us too surely testify the presence
of a devastating storm.”
“The storm has passed away,
mother,” said Edith; “and we will look
for calmer and brighter skies.”
“No bright skies for us, I fear,
my children,” returned the mother, with a deeper
tinge of sadness in her voice.
“They are bright this hour to
what they were a few days since,” said Edith,
“and I am sure they will grow brighter.
I feel much encouraged. Where the heart is willing,
the way is sure to open. Both Miriam and I are
willing to do all in our power, and I am sure we can
do much. We have ability to teach others; and
the exercise of that ability will bring a sure reward.
I like Uncle Hiram’s suggestion very much.”
“But the humiliation of soliciting
scholars,” said the mother.
“To do right is not humiliating,”
quickly replied Edith.
“It is easy to say this, my
child; but can you go to Mrs. Lionel, for instance,
with whose family we were so intimate, and solicit
her to send Emma and Cordelia to the school you propose
to open, without a smarting sense of humiliation?
I am sure you cannot.”
Edith communed with her own thoughts
for some moments, and then answered—
“If I gave way to false pride,
mother, this might be so; but I must overcome what
is false and evil. This is as necessary for my
happiness as the external good we seek—nay,
far more so. Too many who have moved in the circle
where we have been moving for years strangely enough
connect an idea of degradation with the office of
teaching children. But is there on the earth a
higher or more important use than instructing the
mind and training the heart of young immortals?
It has been beautifully and truly said, that ’Earth
is the nursery of Heaven.’ The teacher,
then, is a worker in God’s own garden.
Is it not so, mother?”
“You think wisely, my child.
God grant that your true thoughts may sustain you
in the trials to come!” replied Mrs. Darlington.
The door-bell rang as the family were
rising from the tea-table. The visitor was Mr.
Ellis. He had come to advise with and assist the
distressed mother and her children; and his words were
listened to with far more deference than was the case
a year before. Nine or ten months’ experience
in keeping a boarding-house had corrected many of
the false views of Mrs. Darlington, and she was now
prepared to make an effort for her family in a different
spirit from that exhibited in the beginning.
The plan proposed by her brother—a matter-of-fact
kind of person—was the taking of a house
at a more moderate rent, and opening a school for
young children. Many objections and doubts were
urged; but he overruled them all, and obtained, in
the end, the cordial consent of every member of the
family. During the argument which preceded the
final decision of the matter, Mrs. Darlington said—
“Suppose the girls should not
be able to get scholars?”
“Let them see to this beforehand.”
“Many may promise to send, and afterwards change
their minds.”
“Let them,” replied the
brother. “If, at the end of the first,
second, and third years, you have not made your expenses,
I will supply the deficiency.”
“You!”
“Yes. The fact is, sister,
if you will be guided in some respects by my judgment,
I will stand by you, and see you safely over every
difficulty. Your boarding-house experiment I did
not approve. I saw from the beginning how it
would end, and I wished to see the end as quickly
as possible. It has come, and I am glad of it;
and, still further, thankful that the disaster has
not been greater. If you only had now the five
or six hundred dollars wasted in a vain experiment
during the past year, how much the sum might do for
you! But we will not sigh over this. As
just said, I will stand by you in the new experiment,
and see that you do not fall again into embarrassment.”
Henry was present at this interview,
but remained silent during the whole time. Since
the day of Miriam’s departure with Burton, and
safe return, a great change had taken place in the
young man. He was like one starting up from sleep
on the brink of a fearful precipice, and standing
appalled at the danger he had escaped almost by a
miracle. The way in which he had begun to walk
he saw to be the way to sure destruction, and his
heart shrunk with shame and trembled with dismay.
“Henry,” said the uncle,
after an hour’s conversation with his sister
and Edith, “I would like to talk with you alone.”
Mrs. Darlington and her daughters left the room.
“Henry,” said Mr. Ellis,
as soon as the rest had withdrawn, “you are
old enough to do something to help on. All the
burden ought not to come on Edith and Miriam.”
“Only show me what I can do,
uncle, and I am ready to put my hands to the work,”
was Henry’s prompt reply.
“It will be years before you
can expect an income from your profession.”
“I know, I know. That is what discourages
me.”
“I can get you the place of
clerk in an insurance office, at a salary of five
hundred dollars a year. Will you accept it?”
“Gladly!” The face of
the young man brightened as if the sun had shone upon
it suddenly.
“You will have several hours
each day, in which to continue your law reading, and
will get admitted to the bar early enough. Keep
your mother and sisters for two or three years, and
then they will be in a condition to sustain you until
you make a practice in your profession.”
But to this the mother and sisters,
when it was mentioned to them, objected. They
were not willing to have Henry’s professional
studies interrupted. That would be a great wrong
to him.
“Not a great wrong, but a great
good,” answered Mr. Ellis. “And I
will make this plain to you. Henry, as I learn
from yourself, has made some dangerous associations;
and some important change is needed to help him break
away from them. No sphere of life is so safe
for a young man as that which surrounds profitable
industry pursued for an end. Temptation rarely
finds its way within this sphere. Two or three
years devoted to the duties of a clerk, with the end
of aiding in the support of his mother and sisters,
will do more to give a right direction to Henry’s
character—more to make success in after
life certain—than any thing else possible
now to be done. The office in which I can get
him the situation I speak of adjoins the one to which
I am attached, and I will, therefore, have him mostly
under my own eye. In this new school, the ardency
of his young feelings will be duly chastened, and
his thoughts turned more into elements of usefulness.
In a word, sister, it will give him self-dependence,
and, in the end, make a man of him.”
The force of all this, and more by
this suggested, was not only seen, but felt, by Mrs.
Darlington; and when she found her son ready to accept
the offer made to him, she withdrew all opposition.
Steps preliminary to the contemplated
change were immediately taken. First of all,
Edith waited upon a number of their old friends, who
had young children, and informed them that she was,
in connection with her sister, about opening a school.
Some were surprised, some pleased, and some indifferent
at the announcement; but a goodly number expressed
pleasure at the opportunity it afforded them of placing
their younger children under the care of teachers in
whose ability and character they had so much confidence.
Thus was the way made plain before them.