'A good man's life is like a fairest flower:
Though Miss Forster's pet flower-beds were a subject for modest congratulation to their owner, they were not to be compared to those at the Rectory, which were indeed a feast of scent2 and colour. The Rector was worthily3 proud of his garden. It represented a considerable amount of skill and artistic4 taste on the part of himself and his handy-man, for the rare plants and exquisite5 groupings of contrasting blossoms would have done credit to a more imposing6 establishment, and he had as choice a collection of shrubs7 as could be grown anywhere in the county.
It was almost sunset when Peggy, having seen the last of Archie's contrivances, and bidden good-bye to kind Miss Forster, passed by the Rectory hedge, and hearing the brisk sound of the mowing-machine, pushed open the little gate and went in, knowing she was always sure of a welcome.
Peggy loved to get Mr. Howell sometimes quite to herself. Perhaps it was because he was one of those rare characters in whose presence we can feel certain of perfect sympathy, or perhaps it grew from a more subtle and silent bond, felt keenly by the child, though[133] never spoken of, for Peggy could remember a time when the Rector's hair was raven9 black, and there had been a little Raymond Howell playing about on the smooth lawns of the old garden. Folks had said that the Rector, like many a man who marries late in life, had made an idol10 of his motherless boy, and they had said, again, that the father's heart was broken and the print of death was on his face as he stood by his child's open grave. But they judged wrong, for he had wrestled11 with his sorrow, like Jacob with the angel of old, and came forth12 from the struggle with hair indeed as white as snow, but a face so full of the glory of his conquest that those who looked felt as if he, too, had died, and they saw his immortality13.
'Ah, he's a changed man!' said Ellen, the nurse, to Susan, the cook, as they talked in whispers over the night-nursery fire when the children were in bed. 'If he was a saint before, it's an angel he is now, and nothing less. They say he takes no thought for himself at all. His heart's been left in the grave with the poor boy, it's true, but, mark my words, if there's a soul in trouble in all the parish it's no kinder friend they'll find than Mr. Howell.'
Little five-year-old Peggy, lying wide awake, straining her ears to overhear the whispered conversation, sat up in bed with burning cheeks.
'Oh, nurse!' she cried. 'Poor Mr. Howell! Have they lost his heart in the churchyard, and can't anybody find it for him?'
'Go to sleep at once, you naughty girl, or I'll call your aunt,' said Ellen, putting out the candle to avoid further complications, for she knew she ought not to have been talking within hearing of her charges, and hoped Peggy would forget the matter by morning.
But the child lay awake for a long time, puzzling her[134] small brain. She was not quite sure what a heart was, but she thought the Rector would miss it, and that he was in some sort of trouble she realized well enough.
'Can people live without hearts?' she asked Lilian next day.
'Of course not,' replied Lilian, with the superior wisdom of nine years old, and dismissed the idea with scorn.
But Peggy did not consider the question ended by any means. Like most children, with the instinctive15 dread16 of being laughed at, she never thought of confiding17 her difficulty to an older person, but solving the problem according to her own quaint18 ideas, she dodged19 the vigilance of Ellen, and trotted20 off alone to the churchyard. The lych-gate was locked, but she toiled21 over the steep steps that spanned the wall, and wading22 through the long grass under the yew-trees, found the spot, all covered with flowers, which Lilian had pointed23 out on Sunday, where 'Mary, the wife of the Reverend Philip Howell,' slept, 'in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life,' and where the stonemason had been already busy with the newly-added line: 'Also Raymond, only son of the above.'
Who can tell all that goes on in the mind of a little child, or what it understands of death? In a vague way Peggy knew that her playfellow had 'gone to heaven, where mother is,' but she did not think of that as any cause for sorrow, nor did she connect him for an instant with the place where she stood, but, with her nurse's words still troubling her, she knelt down and searched among the white flowers that hid the bare earth beneath.
A step on the gravel24 walk startled her to her feet, but it was only the Rector, coming slowly down the path from the church-door.
[135]'Don't go away, little Margaret,' he said quietly. 'God's acre is free to all. We have both precious seed sown here that we hope to find blooming some day in Paradise.'
'Oh, Mr. Howell,' burst out Peggy, her gray eyes brimming over with tears, 'is it really true that your heart is lost here? Don't you think, if we were both to look, we might find it again?'
The Rector stroked the brown curls with a tender hand.
'Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. No, child, it's not here, but up in the light beyond;' and he pointed where the sun, breaking through the clouds, burst out in a flood of golden glory. 'We make our plans for this world,' he said softly, speaking as much to himself as to Peggy, 'and say we will do this or that, but sometimes God takes it out of our hands and arranges it for us; but His ways are better than our ways, and His thoughts than our thoughts, and, after all, death is but the gate to life immortal14.'
Since then a great friendship had existed between these two, made all the stronger, perhaps, by the fifty years that divided them, for old folk have often more tolerance25 and sympathy for childhood than have those whose eyes are still blinded by the bustle26 of life, and, whatever Peggy might be to others, with Mr. Howell she was always at her highest and best.
'As welcome as the flowers in May, dear child,' said the Rector this evening. 'I was just longing27 for an excuse to leave the lawn-mower, and now I feel bound to give up work and entertain you. Come and look at my carnations28.' And taking a basket as a receptacle for any weeds that might offend his eye, he led the way, Peggy trotting30 after him with her little tongue[136] wagging freely in a lively account of her latest adventures, and the marvels31 which her new friend Archie was constructing in Miss Forster's garden.
'Yes, he's a clever lad,' said Mr. Howell, 'and likely to do well and be a comfort to her, I hope. It's a grand thing when a boy can fill his life with a hobby; it leaves him no time to get into mischief32.'
'I think flowers are your hobby, next to the parish,' said Peggy, as she watched the Rector tying up his carnations, touching33 each blossom as carefully as if it were a child, with a tender pride in its loveliness.
'Flowers are such dear friends, you see, Peggy; they rarely disappoint or deceive you. Treat them well, and they repay you a thousandfold; and the best of it is they give so much pleasure to others as well as to ourselves. By-the-by, how are Miss Forster's carnations getting on?'
'Beautifully! She has a lovely apricot-coloured one she hopes may take a prize, but I don't like it as well as your yellow. She says the show will be bigger than ever this year; so many of the village people have sent in entries.'
'I'm glad of that. Gardening is the best hobby a working man can take up. He won't want to think of the public-house when he's digging in his patch of ground and watching the plants he's raised himself. I always agree with good old Francis Bacon that "God Almighty34 first planted a garden, and indeed it is the purest of human pleasures." I have given away a great many roots in the village this spring, in the hope that the flowers would find their way to the show in due course. People are generally so pleased with them.'
'I took a nice carnation29 plant down to old Mrs. Johnson at the smithy,' said Peggy, 'but she didn't[137] seem at all pleased. She said I might have known she wanted a Bizarre, and not a Picotee, and I was bringing "coals to Newcastle."'
'But you left it for her, all the same?'
'Oh yes; I believe she liked it really, for it was quite a new kind; but she loves to grumble35; she's a terribly cross old woman.'
'Poor old soul! She's let her heart wither36 up instead of ripening38! We must all do one or the other, Peggy, child, as we grow older. It is only the sunshine of God's presence that can mellow39 us thoroughly40, and if people wilfully41 turn away from that they are bound to become shrivelled and sour. Worldly prosperity is like a strong electric light—it may bring out flowers, but it will never ripen37 character; so don't forget that, or ever exchange it for the true sunlight. Now come and help me to choose out which flowers to specially42 train for the show, and we shall just have time to stake them before dark.'
The Rector never made the mistake of continually talking down to a child's level. He spoke8 with Peggy exactly as he would have done with a grown-up friend, and if she could not always follow his train of thought, I think the mere43 effort to do so was good for her, and the older she grew, the more truly she understood and appreciated him.
It is not only when we try to amuse them that the children love us best (who has not sometimes seen the look of almost contempt in the eyes of a little one for the good-natured elder who plays the fool for his benefit?), and often the companion most cared for and sought after by a child is he who unconsciously raises the standard of the eager, growing soul.
For reasons of his own the Rector kept Peggy late that evening, and they made a little tour of the garden,[138] selecting what they called their prize plants, putting indiarubber bands round carnation-buds to keep them from bursting, and tying up the most promising44 stocks and asters with a scrupulous45 care, working until the light had almost failed and the sky stood out yellow against the outline of the cypress-trees. It grew so dim and still in the twilight46 that Peggy cried out in alarm as a tall figure seemed to rise from the shadows under the dark yew-hedge, and came towards them; but peering through the gathering47 dusk, she recognised the face of her old friend Mr. Neville.
'John!' exclaimed the Rector, 'I thought you had been at the Abbey all this time!'
'I haven't found the courage yet,' returned the other huskily, picking a prize dahlia to pieces with a recklessness that seemed wanton in Peggy's eyes.
'Oh, Mr. Neville, is it really you? However did you get here?' she cried.
'Mayn't I know the Rector, too, Peggy? He happens to be a very old friend of mine, and I have come to see him.'
'You said you knew Father and Aunt Helen, too, but you have never been to see us,' said Peggy reproachfully. 'I'm afraid there's only Aunt Helen in to-night, but I know she'd love you to come.'
'I'm not so sure about that,' said Mr. Neville rather bitterly. 'I don't know whether I should be welcome, Peggy dear. Aunt Helen and I quarrelled once, long ago, and I doubt if she could forgive me.'
'Oh, she would—I know she would!' exclaimed Peggy. 'She always forgives us, however naughty we are; and she told me once—the night she was crying over the old letters in her writing-desk—that if you quarrelled with anyone it was better to make[139] it up at once, and not let it go on for ever. Do, please, try!'
'Go, my boy,' said the Rector. 'Tell her the simple truth, and don't spoil two lives for the sake of an old tale that is best forgotten.'
Peggy waited wide awake in bed for hours that night to catch Father's step in the passage and call him in for a good-night kiss.
'Oh, Daddy!' she cried, as she clasped him round the neck, 'is Aunt Helen really and truly going to marry Mr. Neville?'
'Really and truly, at last, dear; and I could not wish to see her in better hands.'
'But whatever shall we do without her?'
'We must manage as best we can, Peggy, and try and not spoil her happiness by any selfish regrets. I have had terrible trouble to persuade her to leave us all, for she was ready to sacrifice herself bravely a second time, but that I would not allow. Aunt Helen has thought for us, and worked for us, all these years, and now we must learn to look after ourselves. You are getting big girls, and Lilian must be my little housekeeper48, and a mother to the rest of you. Aunt Helen has taught you how to behave, so don't you think, little woman, it is time to begin to settle down, and do your best to grow up what she and I would like you to be?'
'I'll try,' said Peggy, kissing him. 'We don't want to lose Aunt Helen, but oh!'—as she nestled down among the bed-clothes—'what a delightful49 uncle Mr. Neville will make!'
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1
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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carnation
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| n.康乃馨（一种花） | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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ripen
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| vt.使成熟；vi.成熟 | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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wilfully
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| adv.任性固执地；蓄意地 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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43
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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45
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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46
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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47
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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49
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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