Few women could have withstood the temptation; but the orphan dreaded his singular power over her heart, and dared not trust herself in his presence.
This evening, as she sat with the firelight shining on her face, thinking of the past, she could not realize that only two years had elapsed since she came daily to this quiet room to recite her lessons; for during that time she had suffered so keenly in mind and body that it seemed as if weary ages had gone over her young head. Involuntarily she sighed, and passed her hand across her forehead. A low tap at the door diverted her thoughts, and a servant entered and gave her a package of letters from New York. Every mail brought one from Felix; and now opening his first, a tender smile parted her lips as she read his passionate, importunate appeal for her speedy return, and saw that the closing lines were blotted with tears. The remaining eight letters were from persons unknown to her, and contained requests for autographs and photographs, for short sketches for papers in different sections of the country, and also various inquiries concerning the time when her new book would probably be ready for press. All were kind, friendly, gratifying, and one was eloquent with thanks for the good effect produced by a magazine article on a dissipated, irreligious husband and father, who, after its perusal, had resolved to reform, and wished her to know the beneficial influence which she exerted. At the foot of the page was a line penned by the rejoicing wife, invoking heaven's choicest blessings on the author's head.
"Is not the laborer worthy of his hire?" Edna felt that her wages were munificent indeed; that her coffers were filling, and though the "Thank God!" was not audible, the great joy in her uplifted eyes attracted the attention of the pastor, who had been silently watching her, and he laid his hand on hers.
"What is it, my dear?"
"The reward God has given me!"
She read aloud the contents of the letter, and there was a brief silence, broken at last by Mr. Hammond.
"Edna, my child, are you really happy?"
"So happy that I believe the wealth of California could not buy this sheet of paper, which assures me that I have been instrumental in bringing sunshine to a darkened household; in calling the head of a family from haunts of vice and midnight orgies back to his wife and children; back to the shrine of prayer at his own hearthstone! I have not lived in vain, for through my work a human soul has been brought to Jesus, and I thank God that I am accounted worthy to labor in my Lord's vineyard! Oh! I will wear that happy wife's blessing in my inmost heart, and like those old bells in Cambridgeshire, inscribed, 'Pestem fungo! Sabbata pango!' it shall ring a silvery chime, exorcising all gloom, and loneliness, and sorrow."