human
I am come to say mass for you to-morrow, he said to Mr. Brewer, who met him in the hall.
gpt
No, I won't go into the drawing-room. I won't see any one to-night. I am going straight to the chapel.
human
Ring for night prayers then in five minutes, will you? said Mr. Brewer. And Father Daniels, saying
gpt
Yes, walked on through the hall, and up the great stair-case to his own room and the chapel, which, were side by side. In five minutes the chapel bell was rung by the priest. Mrs. Brewer looked toward her daughter.
human
Mary must do as she likes; said Mr. Brewer, in his open honest way driving his wife before him out of the room. There stood Horace Erskine. It was as if all in a moment the time for the great choice had come. They were at the door--the girl stood still. They were gone, they were crossing the hall; she could hear Mr. Brewer's shoes on the carpet--not too late for her to follow. Her light step will catch theirs--they may go a little further still before the very last moment comes. Her mother or Horace? How dearly she loved her mother, how her child's heart went after her, all trust and love--and Horace, _did_ she love him?--love him well enough to stay _there--there_ and _then_, at a moment that would weigh so very heavily in the scale of good and evil, right or wrong? If he had not been there she might have stayed, if she stayed now that he was there, should she not stay with him--more, leave her mother and stay with him? Thought is quick. She stood by the table; she looked toward the door, she listened--Horace held out his hand--
gpt
With me, Mary--with _me_! And she was gone. Gone even while he spoke, across the hall, up the stairs and at that chapel door just as this last of the servants, without knowing, closed it on her. Then Mary went to her own room just at the head of the great stair-case, and opened the doors softly, and knelt down, keeping it open, letting the stair-case lamp stray into the darkness just enough to show her where she was. There she knelt till the night prayers were over, and when Mr. Brewer passed her door, she came out, a little glad to show them that she had not been staying down stairs with Horace. He smiled, and put his hand inside her arm and stopped her from going down.
human
My dear child, he said,
gpt
I have had the great blessing of my life given to me in the conversion of your mother. If God's great grace, for the sake of his own blessed mother, should fall on you, you will not quench it, my darling. Meanwhile, I shall never have a better time than _this_ time to say, that I feel more than ever a father to you. That if you will go on treating me with the childlike candor and trust that I have loved to see in you, you will make me happier than you can ever guess at, dear child. And then he kissed her, and Minnie eased her heart by a few sobs and tears, and her head rested on his shoulder, and she thanked him for his love. Then Father Daniels came out of the chapel, and advanced to where they stood. Mary had long known the holy man. He saw how it was in an instant.
human
Welcome home, Mary; you see I come soon. And now--when I am saying mass to-morrow, stay quietly in your own room, and pray to be taught to love God. Give yourself to him. Don't trouble about questions. His you are. Rest on the thought--and we will wait on what may come of it. I shall remember you at mass to-morrow. Good-night. God bless you.
gpt
I can't come down again. My eyes are red, said Mary, to Mr. Brewer, when they were again alone. And he laughed at her.
human
I'll send mamma up, he said. And Mary went into her room. But she had taken no part _against_ her mother; so her heart said, and congratulated itself. She had not left her, and stayed with Horace. She had had those few words with her step-father. That was over, and very happily too. She had seen Father Daniels again. It was getting speedily like the old things, and the old times, before the long visit to Scotland, where Horace Erskine was the sun of her {195} new world. Somehow she felt that he was losing power every moment--also she felt, a little resentfully, that there had been things said or thought, or insinuated, about the dear home she was loving so well, which were unjust, untrue, unkind; nay, more, cruel, shameful!--and so wrong to unite _her_ to such ideas; to make her a party to such thoughts. In the midst of her resentment, her mother came in.
gpt
Nobody ever was so charming looking, was the first thought.
human
How young she looks--how much younger and handsomer than Aunt Erskine. What a warm loving atmosphere this house always had, and _has_. The last word with the emphasis of a perfect conviction.
gpt
And so you have made your eyes red on papa's coat--and I had to wipe the tears off with my pocket-handkerchief. Oh, you darling, I am sure Horace Erskine thought we had beaten you! Then kisses, and laughter; not quite without a tear or two on both, sides, however.
human
Now, my darling, Horace has told us his love story--and so he is very fond of you?
gpt
Mamma, mamma, I love you better than all the earth.
human
My darling child, you have been some months away from us--do you think you can quite tell your own mind on a question which is life-long in its results? I mean, that the thing that is pleasant in one place may not be so altogether delightful in another. I should like you to decide so great a question while in the full enjoyment of your own rights _here_. This is your _home_. _This_ is what you will have to exchange for something else when you marry. You are very young to marry--not eighteen, remember. Whenever you decide that question, I should like you to decide it on your own ground, and by your own mother's side.
gpt
I wonder whether you know how wise you are? was the question that came in answer.
human
Do you know, mother, that I cried like a baby at Hull, because I felt all you have said, and even a little more, and thought he was unkind to press me. You know Aunt Erskine had told me; and Horace, too, in a way--and he said at Hull he dreaded the influence of this place, and--and--
gpt
But there is nothing for _you_ to dread. This home is yours; and its influence is good; and all the love you command here is your safety. Mrs. Brewer spoke boldly, and quite with the spirit of heroism. She was standing up for her rights. But Mr. Brewer stood at the door.
human
The lover wants to smoke in the park in the moonlight. Some information just to direct his thoughts, you little witch,
gpt
Papa, I am so happy. I won't, because I can't, plan to leave everything I love best in the world just as I come back to it.
human
But you must give Erskine some kind of an answer. The poor fellow is really very much in earnest. Come and see him.
gpt
No, I won't, said Mary, very much as the wilful Claudia might have uttered the words. But Mary was thinking that there was a great contrast between the genial benevolence she had come to, and the indescribable _something_ which was _not_ benevolence in which she had lived ever since her mother had become a Catholic. Mr. Brewer almost started.
human
I mean, papa, that I must live here unmolested at least one month before I can find out whether I am not always going to love _you_ best of all mankind. Don't you think you could send Horace off to Scotland again immediately?
gpt
Bless the child! Think of the letters that have passed--you read them, or knew of them?
human
said Mary, nodding her head confidentially, and looking extremely naughty.
gpt
Well; and I asked him here!
human
Yes; I know that.
gpt
And you now tell me to send him away! {196} My dear! exclaimed Mr. Brewer, looking appealingly at his wife.
human
Dearest, you must tell Mr. Erskine that Mary really would like to be left quiet for awhile. Say so now; and to-morrow you can suggest his going soon, and returning in a few weeks.
gpt
And to-morrow I can have a cold and lie in bed. Can't I? said Mary. But now they ceased talking, and heard Horace Erskine go out of the door to the portico.
human
There! he's gone. And I am sure I can smell a cigar--and I could hate smoking, couldn't I?