Mr.Mayhew attended church with his family that morning--a thing that he had not done for years--and in the afternoon Ida took him to see her spiritual birthplace,and to call on her spiritual father.The welcome that old Mr.Eltinge gave,and the words he spoke,did much towards establishing in the man who had been so disheartened,hope that a new and better future was opening before him.
When about to part he put his left arm around his daughter,and giving his hand to Mr.Eltinge,said,with a voice broken by his feelings:
"I am bewildered yet.I can't understand my happiness.Yesterday I was perishing in a boundless desert.To-day the desert has vanished,and I'm in this sweet old garden.There are no flowers or fruits in it,however,that can compare with the love and truth I now see in this child's face.I won't speak of the service you have rendered us both.It's beyond all words."It was indeed greater than he knew,for Id had concluded never to speak again of her terrible secret.God had forgiven her,and nothing was to be gained by any reference to a subject that had become inexpressibly painful."Remember,"said the staunch and faithful old man as they were about to drive away,"nothing good lasts unless built up from the Author of all good.Unless you act on this truth you'll find yourself in the desert again,and all you are now enjoying will seem like a mirage."Poor Mr.Mayhew could not endure to lose a moment of his daughter's society,for the long thirst of years was to be slaked.They took a round-about way home,and the summer evening deepened into twilight and dusk before they approached the hotel.
"See,father,there is the new moon,and it hangs over your right shoulder,"cried Ida,gleefully.
"It's over your right shoulder,too,and that thought pleases me better still.I wish I could make you very happy.Tell me what I can do for you.""Take me to New York with you to-morrow,"said Ida,promptly.
"Now you are trying to make a martyr of yourself for me.You forget how hot and dusty the city is in August.""I'm going with you,"she said decisively,"unless you say no.""I'm going to spend part of the time with you until your vacation begins next month,and then we'll explore every nook and corner of this region.""There Ida,say no more to-day.My cup is overflowing now,and the fear is already growing that such happiness won't last--can't last in a world like ours.""Father,"said Ida,gently,"I've found a Friend that has promised me more than present happiness.He has promised me eternal life.
He is pledged to make all seemingly evil result in my final good.
How it can be I don't see at all,but I'm trying to take him at his word.You must not worry if I'm not always in good spirits.Isuppose every one in the world has a burden to carry,but I don't think it can crush us if our Saviour helps us carry it.My faith is very simple,you see;I feel I'm like one of those little children he took in his arms and blessed,and I'm sure his blessing is not an empty form.It has made me love and trust him,and that's all the religion I have or know anything about.You must not expect great things of me;you must not watch me too closely.Just let me take my own quiet way in life,for I want my life henceforth to be as quiet and unobtrusive as the little brook that runs through Mr.Eltinge's garden,that is often in the shade,you know,as well as in the light,but Mr.Eltinge lets it flow after its own fashion;so you must let me.I'll always try to make a little low,sweet music for you,if not for the world.So please do not commence puzzling your poor tired brain how to make me happy or gay,or want to take me here and there.Just leave me to myself;let me have my own way for awhile at least;and if you can do anything for me I promise to tell you."Ever since her drive with Van Berg the previous day,there had been a deep undercurrent of thought in Ida's mind,and she had at last concluded that she could scarcely keep her secret with any certainty while under his eyes,and especially those of Miss Burton.She was too direct and positive in her nature,and her love was too strong and absorbing for the cool and indifferent bearing she was trying to maintain.Her eyes,her cheeks,her tones,and even words,might prove traitors at any time and betray her.She longed to be alone,and teh large empty city house seemed the quiet refuge that she needed.At the same time it would give her deep satisfaction to be with her father after hs return from business,and make amends for years of neglect.
He looked at her wistfully,feeling,in a vague way,that he did not understand her yet.There was a minor chord in her voice,and there had been a sadness in her eyes at times which began to suggest to him that he had not learned all the causes that were so marvellously transforming her form her old self.Her mother would question and question.He,on the contrary,would wait patiently till the confidence was given,and so he merely said gently,"All right,little girl;I'll try to make you happy in your own way."Van Berg,going out for a walk after tea,again heard the girlish voice singing the quaint hymn tune that had awakened the memories of his childhood the previous day.He instantly concealed himself by the roadside,and in a moment or two Ida and her father drove by.He was able in the dusk to note only that her head rested on her father's shoulder,and her voice was sweet and plaintive as she sang words that he could not hear distinctly,but which were as follows,as far as he could catch them:
I know not the way he is leading me But I know he is leading me home;Though lonely the path and dark to me,It is safe and it wends to my home.
Home of the blest,Home that is rest To the weary pilgrim's feet,to the weary pilgrim's heart.
and then her words were lost in the distance.
With an impulse he did not think of resisting he followed them back to the hotel and waited patiently till she and her father came out from supper.
