Chapter 20 - At Forty
"NEARLY twenty years since I set out to seek my fortune. It has beena long search, but I think I have found it at last. I only asked tobe a useful, happy woman, and my wish is granted: for, I believe Iam useful; I know I am happy."
Christie looked so as she sat alone in the flowery parlor oneSeptember afternoon, thinking over her life with a grateful,cheerful spirit. Forty to-day, and pausing at that half-way housebetween youth and age, she looked back into the past without bitterregret or unsubmissive grief, and forward into the future withcourageous patience; for three good angels attended her, and withfaith, hope, and charity to brighten life, no woman need lament lostyouth or fear approaching age. Christie did not, and though her eyesfilled with quiet tears as they were raised to the faded cap andsheathed sword hanging on the wall, none fell; and in a momenttender sorrow changed to still tenderer joy as her glance wanderedto rosy little Ruth playing hospital with her dollies in the porch.Then they shone with genuine satisfaction as they went from theletters and papers on her table to the garden, where several youngwomen were at work with a healthful color in the cheeks that hadbeen very pale and thin in the spring.
"I think David is satisfied with me; for I have given all my heartand strength to his work, and it prospers well," she said toherself, and then her face grew thoughtful, as she recalled a lateevent which seemed to have opened a new field of labor for her ifshe chose to enter it.
A few evenings before she had gone to one of the many meetings ofworking-women, which had made some stir of late. Not a first visit,for she was much interested in the subject and full of sympathy forthis class of workers.
There were speeches of course, and of the most unparliamentary sort,for the meeting was composed almost entirely of women, each eager totell her special grievance or theory. Any one who chose got up andspoke; and whether wisely or foolishly each proved how great was theferment now going on, and how difficult it was for the two classesto meet and help one another in spite of the utmost need on one sideand the sincerest good-will on the other. The workers poured outtheir wrongs and hardships passionately or plaintively, demanding orimploring justice, sympathy, and help; displaying the ignorance,incapacity, and prejudice, which make their need all the morepitiful, their relief all the more imperative.
The ladies did their part with kindliness, patience, and oftenunconscious condescension, showing in their turn how little theyknew of the real trials of the women whom they longed to serve, howvery narrow a sphere of usefulness they were fitted for in spite ofculture and intelligence, and how rich they were in generoustheories, how poor in practical methods of relief.
One accomplished creature with learning radiating from every pore,delivered a charming little essay on the strong-minded women ofantiquity; then, taking labor into the region of art, painteddelightful pictures of the time when all would work harmoniouslytogether in an Ideal Republic, where each did the task she liked,and was paid for it in liberty, equality, and fraternity.
Unfortunately she talked over the heads of her audience, and it waslike telling fairy tales to hungry children to describe Aspasiadiscussing Greek politics with Pericles and Plato reposing uponivory couches, or Hypatia modestly delivering philosophical lecturesto young men behind a Tyrian purple curtain; and the Ideal Republicmet with little favor from anxious seamstresses, type-setters, andshop-girls, who said ungratefully among themselves, "That's all verypretty, but I don't see how it's going to better wages among us now"
Another eloquent sister gave them a political oration which firedthe revolutionary blood in their veins, and made them eager to rushto the State-house en masse, and demand the ballot before one-halfof them were quite clear what it meant, and the other half were asunfit for it as any ignorant Patrick bribed with a dollar and a supof whiskey.
A third well-wisher quenched their ardor like a wet blanket, byreading reports of sundry labor reforms in foreign parts; mostinteresting, but made entirely futile by differences of climate,needs, and customs. She closed with a cheerful budget of statistics,giving the exact number of needle-women who had starved, gone mad,or committed suicide during the past year; the enormous profitswrung by capitalists from the blood and muscles of their employes;and the alarming increase in the cost of living, which was about toplunge the nation into debt and famine, if not destructiongenerally.
When she sat down despair was visible on many countenances, andimmediate starvation seemed to be waiting at the door to clutch themas they went out; for the impressible creatures believed every wordand saw no salvation anywhere.
Christie had listened intently to all this; had admired, regretted,or condemned as each spoke; and felt a steadily increasing sympathyfor all, and a strong desire to bring the helpers and the helpedinto truer relations with each other.
The dear ladies were so earnest, so hopeful, and so unpracticallybenevolent, that it grieved her to see so much breath wasted, somuch good-will astray; while the expectant, despondent, or excitedfaces of the work-women touched her heart; for well she knew howmuch they needed help, how eager they were for light, how ready tobe led if some one would only show a possible way.
As the statistical extinguisher retired, beaming with satisfactionat having added her mite to the good cause, a sudden anduncontrollable impulse moved Christie to rise in her place and askleave to speak. It was readily granted, and a little stir ofinterest greeted her; for she was known to many as Mr. Power'sfriend, David Sterling's wife, or an army nurse who had done well.Whispers circulated quickly, and faces brightened as they turnedtoward her; for she had a helpful look, and her first words pleasedthem. When the president invited her to the platform she paused onthe lowest step, saying with an expressive look and gesture:
"I am better here, thank you; for I have been and mean to be aworking-woman all my life."
"Hear! hear!" cried a stout matron in a gay bonnet, and the restindorsed the sentiment with a hearty round. Then they were verystill, and then in a clear, steady voice, with the sympatheticundertone to it that is so magical in its effect, Christie made herfirst speech in public since she left the stage.
That early training stood her in good stead now, giving herself-possession, power of voice, and ease of gesture; while thepurpose at her heart lent her the sort of simple eloquence thattouches, persuades, and convinces better than logic, flattery, ororatory.
What she said she hardly knew: words came faster than she couldutter them, thoughts pressed upon her, and all the lessons of herlife rose vividly before her to give weight to her arguments, valueto her counsel, and the force of truth to every sentence sheuttered. She had known so many of the same trials, troubles, andtemptations that she could speak understandingly of them; and,better still, she had conquered or outlived so many of them, thatshe could not only pity but help others to do as she had done.Having found in labor her best teacher, comforter, and friend, shecould tell those who listened that, no matter how hard or humble thetask at the beginning, if faithfully and bravely performed, it wouldsurely prove a stepping-stone to something better, and with eachhonest effort they were fitting themselves for the nobler labor, andlarger liberty God meant them to enjoy.
The women felt that this speaker was one of them; for the same lineswere on her face that they saw on their own, her hands were no finelady's hands, her dress plainer than some of theirs, her speechsimple enough for all to understand; cheerful, comforting, and fullof practical suggestion, illustrations out of their own experience,and a spirit of companionship that uplifted their despondent hearts.
Yet more impressive than any thing she said was the subtle magnetismof character, for that has a universal language which all canunderstand. They saw and felt that a genuine woman stood down thereamong them like a sister, ready with head, heart, and hand to helpthem help themselves; not offering pity as an alms, but justice as aright. Hardship and sorrow, long effort and late-won reward had beenhers they knew; wifehood, motherhood, and widowhood brought her verynear to them; and behind her was the background of an earnest life,against which this figure with health on the cheeks, hope in theeyes, courage on the lips, and the ardor of a wide benevolencewarming the whole countenance stood out full of unconscious dignityand beauty; an example to comfort, touch, and inspire them.
It was not a long speech, and in it there was no learning, nostatistics, and no politics; yet it was the speech of the evening,and when it was over no one else seemed to have any thing to say. Asthe meeting broke up Christie's hand was shaken by many roughened bythe needle, stained with printer's ink, or hard with humbler toil;many faces smiled gratefully at her, and many voices thanked herheartily. But sweeter than any applause were the words of one womanwho grasped her hand, and whispered with wet eyes:
"I knew your blessed husband; he was very good to me, and I've beenthanking the Lord he had such a wife for his reward!"
Christie was thinking of all this as she sat alone that day, andasking herself if she should go on; for the ladies had been asgrateful as the women; had begged her to come and speak again,saying they needed just such a mediator to bridge across the spacethat now divided them from those they wished to serve. She certainlyseemed fitted to act as interpreter between the two classes; for,from the gentleman her father she had inherited the fine instincts,gracious manners, and unblemished name of an old and honorable race;from the farmer's daughter, her mother, came the equally valuabledower of practical virtues, a sturdy love of independence, and greatrespect for the skill and courage that can win it.
Such women were much needed and are not always easy to find; foreven in democratic America the hand that earns its daily bread mustwear some talent, name, or honor as an ornament, before it is verycordially shaken by those that wear white gloves.
"Perhaps this is the task my life has been fitting me for," shesaid. "A great and noble one which I should be proud to accept andhelp accomplish if I can. Others have finished the emancipation workand done it splendidly, even at the cost of all this blood andsorrow. I came too late to do any thing but give my husband andbehold the glorious end. This new task seems to offer me the chanceof being among the pioneers, to do the hard work, share thepersecution, and help lay the foundation of a new emancipation whosehappy success I may never see. Yet I had rather be remembered asthose brave beginners are, though many of them missed the triumph,than as the late comers will be, who only beat the drums and wavethe banners when the victory is won."
Just then the gate creaked on its hinges, a step sounded in theporch, and little Ruth ran in to say in an audible whisper:
"It's a lady, mamma, a very pretty lady: can you see her?"
"Yes, dear, ask her in."
There was a rustle of sweeping silks through the narrow hall, avision of a very lovely woman in the door-way, and two daintilygloved hands were extended as an eager voice asked: "DearestChristie, don't you remember Bella Carrol?"
Christie did remember, and had her in her arms directly, utterlyregardless of the imminent destruction of a marvellous hat, or thebad effect of tears on violet ribbons. Presently they were sittingclose together, talking with April faces, and telling their storiesas women must when they meet after the lapse of years. A few lettershad passed between them, but Bella had been abroad, and Christie toobusy living her life to have much time to write about it.
"Your mother, Bella? how is she, and where?"
"Still with Augustine, and he you know is melancholy mad: veryquiet, very patient, and very kind to every one but himself. Hispenances for the sins of his race would soon kill him if mother wasnot there to watch over him. And her penance is never to leave him."
"Dear child, don't tell me any more; it is too sad. Talk of yourselfand Harry. Now you smile, so I'm sure all is well with him."
"Yes, thank heaven! Christie, I do believe fate means to spare us asdear old Dr. Shirley said. I never can be gay again, but I keep ascheerful and busy as I can, for Harry's sake, and he does the samefor mine. We shall always be together, and all in all to oneanother, for we can never marry and have homes apart you know. Wehave wandered over the face of the earth for several years, and nowwe mean to settle down and be as happy and as useful as we can."
"That's brave! I am so glad to hear it, and so truly thankful it ispossible. But tell me, Bella, what Harry means to do? You spoke inone of your first letters of his being hard at work studyingmedicine. Is that to be his profession?"
"Yes; I don't know what made him choose it, unless it was the hopethat he might spare other families from a curse like ours, orlighten it if it came. After Helen's death he was a changedcreature; no longer a wild boy, but a man. I told him what you saidto me, and it gave him hope. Dr. Shirley confirmed it as far as hedared; and Hal resolved to make the most of his one chance byinteresting himself in some absorbing study, and leaving no room forfear, no time for dangerous recollections. I was so glad, and motherso comforted, for we both feared that sad trouble would destroy him.He studied hard, got on splendidly, and then went abroad to finishoff. I went with him; for poor August was past hope, and mamma wouldnot let me help her. The doctor said it was best for me to be away,and excellent for Hal to have me with him, to cheer him up, and keephim steady with a little responsibility. We have been happy togetherin spite of our trouble, he in his profession, and I in him; now heis ready, so we have come home, and now the hardest part begins forme."
"How, Bella?"
"He has his work and loves it: I have nothing after my duty to himis done. I find I've lost my taste for the old pleasures andpursuits, and though I have tried more sober, solid ones, therestill remains much time to hang heavy on my hands, and such an emptyplace in my heart, that even Harry's love cannot fill it. I'm afraidI shall get melancholy, - that is the beginning of the end for us,you know."
As Bella spoke the light died out of her eyes, and they grewdespairing with the gloom of a tragic memory. Christie drew thebeautiful, pathetic face clown upon her bosom, longing to comfort,yet feeling very powerless to lighten Bella's burden.
But Christie's little daughter did it for her. Ruth had beenstanding near regarding the "pretty lady," with as much wonder andadmiration as if she thought her a fairy princess, who might vanishbefore she got a good look at her. Divining with a child's quickinstinct that the princess was in trouble, Ruth flew into the porch,caught up her latest and dearest treasure, and presented it as asure consolation, with such sweet good-will, that Bella could notrefuse, although it was only a fuzzy caterpillar in a little box.
"I give it to you because it is my nicest one and just ready to spinup. Do you like pussy-pillars, and know how they do it?" asked Ruth,emboldened by the kiss she got in return for her offering.
"Tell me all about it, darling," and Bella could not help smiling,as the child fixed her great eyes upon her, and told her littlestory with such earnestness, that she was breathless by the time sheended.
"At first they are only grubs you know, and stay down in the earth;then they are like this, nice and downy and humpy, when they walk;and when it's time they spin up and go to sleep. It's all dark intheir little beds, and they don't know what may happen to 'em; butthey are not afraid 'cause God takes care of 'em. So they wait anddon't fret, and when it's right for 'em they come out splendidbutterflies, all beautiful and shining like your gown. They arehappy then, and fly away to eat honey, and live in the air, andnever be creeping worms any more."
"That's a pretty lesson for rne," said Bella softly, "I accept andthank you for it, little teacher; I'll try to be a patient'pussy-pillar' though it is dark, and I don't know what may happento me; and I'll wait hopefully till it's time to float away a happybutterfly."
"Go and get the friend some flowers, the gayest and sweetest you canfind, Pansy," said Christie, and, as the child ran off, she added toher friend:
"Now we must think of something pleasant for you to do. It may takea little time, but I know we shall find your niche if we give ourminds to it."
"That's one reason why I came. I heard some friends of mine talkingabout you yesterday, and they seemed to think you were equal to anything in the way of good works. Charity is the usual refuge forpeople like me, so I wish to try it. I don't mind doing or seeingsad or disagreeable things, if it only fills up my life and helps meto forget."
"You will help more by giving of your abundance to those who knowhow to dispense it wisely, than by trying to do it yourself, mydear. I never advise pretty creatures like you to tuck up their silkgowns and go down into the sloughs with alms for the poor, who don'tlike it any better than you do, and so much pity and money arewasted in sentimental charity."
"Then what shall I do?"
"If you choose you can find plenty of work in your own class; for,if you will allow me to say it, they need help quite as much as thepaupers, though in a very different way."
"Oh, you mean I'm to be strong-minded, to cry aloud and spare not,to denounce their iniquities, and demand their money or theirlives?"
"Now, Bella, that's personal; for I made my first speech a night ortwo ago."
"I know you did, and I wish I'd heard it. I'd make mine to-night ifI could do it half as well as I'm told you did," interrupted Bella,clapping her hands with a face full of approval.
But Christie was in earnest, and produced her new project with allspeed.
"I want you to try a little experiment for me, and if it succeedsyou shall have all the glory; I've been waiting for some one toundertake it, and I fancy you are the woman. Not every one couldattempt it; for it needs wealth and position, beauty andaccomplishments, much tact, and more than all a heart that has notbeen spoilt by the world, but taught through sorrow how to value anduse life well."
"Christie, what is it? this experiment that needs so much, and yetwhich you think me capable of trying?" asked Bella, interested andflattered by this opening.
"I want you to set a new fashion: you know you can set almost anyyou choose in your own circle; for people are very like sheep, andwill follow their leader if it happens to be one they fancy. I don'task you to be a De Staël, and have a brilliant salon: I only wantyou to provide employment and pleasure for others like yourself, whonow are dying of frivolity or ennui."
"I should love to do that if I could. Tell me how."
"Well, dear, I want you to make Harry's home as beautiful andattractive as you can; to keep all the elegance and refinement offormer times, and to add to it a new charm by setting the fashion ofcommon sense. Invite all the old friends, and as many new ones asyou choose; but have it understood that they are to come asintelligent men and women, not as pleasure-hunting beaux and belles;give them conversation instead of gossip; less food for the body andmore for the mind; the healthy stimulus of the nobler pleasures theycan command, instead of the harmful excitements of presentdissipation. In short, show them the sort of society we need moreof, and might so easily have if those who possess the means ofculture cared for the best sort, and took pride in acquiring it. Doyou understand, Bella?"
"Yes, but it's a great undertaking, and you could do it better thanI."
"Bless you, no! I haven't a single qualification for it but the willto have it done. I'm 'strong-minded,' a radical, and a reformer.I've done all sorts of dreadful things to get my living, and I haveneither youth, beauty, talent, or position to back me up; so Ishould only be politely ignored if I tried the experiment myself. Idon't want you to break out and announce your purpose with aflourish; or try to reform society at large, but I do want you todevote yourself and your advantages to quietly insinuating a betterstate of things into one little circle. The very fact of your ownwant, your own weariness, proves how much such a reform is needed.There are so many fine young women longing for something to fill upthe empty places that come when the first flush of youth is over,and the serious side of life appears; so many promising young menlearning to conceal or condemn the high ideals and the noblepurposes they started with, because they find no welcome for them.You might help both by simply creating a purer atmosphere for themto breathe, sunshine to foster instead of frost to nip their goodaspirations, and so, even if you planted no seed, you mightencourage a timid sprout or two that would one day be a lovelyflower or a grand tree all would admire and enjoy."
As Christie ended with the figure suggested by her favorite work,Bella said after a thoughtful pause:
"But few of the women I know can talk about any thing but servants,dress, and gossip. Here and there one knows something of music, art,or literature; but the superior ones are not favorites with thelarger class of gentlemen."
"Then let the superior women cultivate the smaller class of men whodo admire intelligence as well as beauty. There are plenty of them,and you had better introduce a few as samples, though their coatsmay not be of the finest broadcloth, nor their fathers 'solid men.'Women lead in society, and when men find that they can not onlydress with taste, but talk with sense, the lords of creation will beglad to drop mere twaddle and converse as with their equals. Blessmy heart!" cried Christie, walking about the room as if she hadmounted her hobby, and was off for a canter, "how people can go onin such an idiotic fashion passes my understanding. Why keep up anendless clatter about gowns and dinners, your neighbors' affairs,and your own aches, when there is a world full of grand questions tosettle, lovely things to see, wise things to study, and noble thingsto imitate. Bella, you must try the experiment, and be the queen ofa better society than any you can reign over now."
"It looks inviting, and I will try it with you to help me. I knowHarry would like it, and I'll get him to recommend it to hispatients. If he is as successful here as elsewhere they will swallowany dose he orders; for he knows how to manage people wonderfullywell. He prescribed a silk dress to a despondent, dowdy patientonce, telling her the electricity of silk was good for her nerves:she obeyed, and when well dressed felt so much better that shebestirred herself generally and recovered; but to this day she singsthe praises of Dr. Carrol's electric cure."
Bella was laughing gaily as she spoke, and so was Christie as shereplied:
"That's just what I want you to do with your patients. Dress uptheir minds in their best; get them out into the air; and cure theirills by the magnetism of more active, earnest lives."
They talked over the new plan with increasing interest; for Christiedid not mean that Bella should be one of the brilliant women whoshine for a little while, and then go out like a firework. And Bellafelt as if she had found something to do in her own sphere, a sortof charity she was fitted for, and with it a pleasant sense of powerto give it zest.
When Letty and her mother came in, they found a much happier lookingguest than the one Christie had welcomed an hour before. Scarcelyhad she introduced them when voices in the lane made all look up tosee old Hepsey and Mrs. Wilkins approaching.
"Two more of my dear friends, Bella: a fugitive slave and alaundress. One has saved scores of her own people, and is my petheroine. The other has the bravest, cheeriest soul I know, and is myprivate oracle."
The words were hardly out of Christie's mouth when in they came;Hepsey's black face shining with affection, and Mrs. Wilkins asusual running over with kind words.
"My dear creeter, the best of wishes and no end of happy birthdays.There 's a triflin' keepsake; tuck it away, and look at it byme by.Mis' Sterlin', I'm proper glad to see you lookin' so well. AuntLetty, how's that darlin' child? I ain't the pleasure of youracquaintance, Miss, but I'm pleased to see you. The children allsent love, likewise Lisha, whose bones is better sense I tried thecamfire and red flannel."
Then they settled down like a flock of birds of various plumage andpower of song, but all amicably disposed, and ready to peck sociallyat any topic which might turn up.
Mrs. Wilkins started one by exclaiming as she "laid off" her bonnet:
"Sakes alive, there's a new picter! Ain't it beautiful?"
"Colonel Fletcher brought it this morning. A great artist painted itfor him, and he gave it to me in a way that added much to itsvalue," answered Christie, with both gratitude and affection in herface; for she was a woman who could change a lover to a friend, andkeep him all her life.
It was a quaint and lovely picture of Mr. Greatheart, leading thefugitives from the City of Destruction. A dark wood lay behind; awide river rolled before; Mercy and Christiana pressed close totheir faithful guide, who went down the rough and narrow pathbearing a cross-hilted sword in his right hand, and holding asleeping baby with the left. The sun was just rising, and a long raymade a bright path athwart the river, turned Greatheart's dintedarmor to gold, and shone into the brave and tender face that seemedto look beyond the sunrise.
"There's just a hint of Davy in it that is very comforting to me,"said Mrs. Sterling, as she laid her old hands softly together, andlooked up with her devout eyes full of love.
"Dem women oughter bin black," murmured Hepsey, tearfully; for sheconsidered David worthy of a place with old John Brown and ColonelShaw.
"The child looks like Pansy, we all think," added Letty, as thelittle girl brought her nosegay for Aunty to tie up prettily.
Christie said nothing, because she felt too much; and Bella was alsosilent because she knew too little. But Mrs. Wilkins with her kindlytact changed the subject before it grew painful, and asked withsudden interest:
"When be you a goin' to hold forth agin, Christie? Jest let me knowbeforehand, and I'll wear my old gloves: I tore my best ones all torags clappin' of you; it was so extra good."
"I don't deserve any credit for the speech, because it spoke itself,and I couldn't help it. I had no thought of such a thing till itcame over me all at once, and I was up before I knew it. I'm trulyglad you liked it, but I shall never make another, unless you thinkI'd better. You know I always ask your advice, and what is moreremarkable usually take it," said Christie, glad to consult heroracle.
"Hadn't you better rest a little before you begin any new task, mydaughter? You have done so much these last years you must be tired,"interrupted Mrs. Sterling, with a look of tender anxiety.
"You know I work for two, mother," answered Christie, with theclear, sweet expression her face always wore when she spoke ofDavid. "I am not tired yet: I hope I never shall be, for without mywork I should fall into despair or ennui. There is so much to bedone, and it is so delightful to help do it, that I never mean tofold my hands till they are useless. I owe all I can do, for inlabor, and the efforts and experiences that grew out of it, I havefound independence, education, happiness, and religion."
"Then, my dear, you are ready to help other folks into the sameblessed state, and it's your duty to do it!" cried Mrs. Wilkins, herkeen eyes full of sympathy and commendation as they rested onChristie's cheerful, earnest face. "Ef the sperrit moves you tospeak, up and do it without no misgivin's. I think it was a specialleadin' that night, and I hope you'll foller, for it ain't every onethat can make folks laugh and cry with a few plain words that goright to a body's heart and stop there real comfortable and fillin'.I guess this is your next job, my dear, and you'd better ketch holdand give it the right turn; for it's goin' to take time, and womenain't stood alone for so long they'll need a sight of boostin'."
There was a general laugh at the close of Mrs. Wilkins's remarks;but Christie answered seriously: "I accept the task, and will do myshare faithfully with words or work, as shall seem best. We all needmuch preparation for the good time that is coming to us, and can getit best by trying to know and help, love and educate oneanother, - as we do here."
With an impulsive gesture Christie stretched her hands to thefriends about her, and with one accord they laid theirs on hers, aloving league of sisters, old and young, black and white, rich andpoor, each ready to do her part to hasten the coming of the happyend.
"Me too!" cried little Ruth, and spread her chubby hand above therest: a hopeful omen, seeming to promise that the coming generationof women will not only receive but deserve their liberty, bylearning that the greatest of God's gifts to us is the privilege ofsharing His great work.
"Each ready to do her part to hasten the coming of the happy end."