IT was Sunday afternoon. St. Clare was stretched on a bamboo lounge in the verandah, solacing himself with a cigar. Marie lay reclined on a sofa, opposite the window opening on the verandah, closely secluded, under an awning of transparent gauze, from the outrages of the mosquitos, and languidly holding in her hand an elegantly bound prayer-book. She was holding it because it was Sunday, and she imagined she had been reading it,though, in fact, she had been only taking a succession of short naps, with it open in her hand.
I would not trust him in a critical case, said Marie; and I think I may say mine is becoming so! I ve been thinking of it, these two or three nights past; I have such distressing pains, and such strange feelings.
Well, I only hope you wont be sorry for this, when it s too late! said Marie; but, believe it or not, my distress about Eva, and the exertions I have made with that dear child, have developed what I have long suspected.
What the exertions were which Marie referred to, it would have been difficult to state. St. Clare quietly made this commentary to himself, and went on smoking, like a hard-hearted wretch of a man as he was, till a carriage drove up before the verandah, and Eva and Miss Ophelia alighted.
Miss Ophelia marched straight to her own chamber, to put away her bonnet and shawl, as was always her manner, before she spoke a word on any subject; while Eva came, at St. Clares call, and was sitting on his knee, giving him an account of the services they had heard.
The case is, that I cannot be plagued with this child, any longer! It s past all bearing; flesh and blood cannot endure it! Here, I locked her up, and gave her a hymn to study; and what does she do, but spy out where I put my key, and has gone to my bureau, and got a bonnet-trimming, and cut it all to pieces, to make dolls jackets! I never saw anything like it, in my life!
I told you, Cousin, said Marie, that you d find out that these creatures cant be brought up, without severity. If I had my way, now, she said, looking reproachfully at St. Clare, I d send that child out, and have her thoroughly whipped; I d have her whipped till she could nt stand!
I dont doubt it, said St. Clare. Tell me of the lovely rule of woman! I never saw above a dozen women that would nt half kill a horse, or a servant, either, if they had their own way with them!let alone a man.
Miss Ophelia had just the capability of indignation that belongs to the thorough-paced housekeeper, and this had been pretty actively roused by the artifice and wastefulness of the child; in fact, many of my lady readers must own that they should have felt just so in her circumstances; but Maries words went beyond her, and she felt less heat.
I would nt have the child treated so, for the world, she said; but, I am sure, Augustine, I dont know what to do. I ve taught and taught; I ve talked till I m tired; I ve whipped her; I ve punished her in every way I can think of, and still she s just what she was at first.
Lor, yes, Masr! old Missis used to say so, too. She whipped me a heap harder, and used to pull my har, and knock my head agin the door; but it did nt do me no good! I spects, if they s to pull every spear o har out o my head, it would nt do no good, neither,I s so wicked! Laws! I s nothin but a nigger, no ways!
Why, if your Gospel is not strong enough to save one heathen child, that you can have at home here, all to yourself, what s the use of sending one or two poor missionaries off with it among thousands of just such? I suppose this child is about a fair sample of what thousands of your heathen are.
Miss Ophelia did not make an immediate answer; and Eva, who had stood a silent spectator of the scene thus far, made a silent sign to Topsy to follow her. There was a little glass-room at the corner of the verandah, which St. Clare used as a sort of reading-room; and Eva and Topsy disappeared into this place.
And, advancing on tiptoe, he lifted up a curtain that covered the glass-door, and looked in. In a moment, laying his finger on his lips, he made a silent gesture to Miss Ophelia to come and look. There sat the two children on the floor, with their side faces towards them. Topsy, with her usual air of careless drollery and unconcern; but, opposite to her, Eva, her whole face fervent with feeling, and tears in her large eyes.
O, Topsy, poor child, I love you! said Eva, with a sudden burst of feeling, and laying her little thin, white hand on Topsys shoulder; I love you, because you have nt had any father, or mother, or friends;because you ve been a poor, abused child! I love you, and I want you to be good. I am very unwell, Topsy, and I think I shant live a great while; and it really grieves me, to have you be so naughty. I wish you would try to be good, for my sake;it s only a little while I shall be with you.
The round, keen eyes of the black child were overcast with tears;large, bright drops rolled heavily down, one by one, and fell on the little white hand. Yes, in that moment, a ray of real belief, a ray of heavenly love, had penetrated the darkness of her heathen soul! She laid her head down between her knees, and wept and sobbed,while the beautiful child, bending over her, looked like the picture of some bright angel stooping to reclaim a sinner.
Poor Topsy! said Eva, dont you know that Jesus loves all alike? He is just as willing to love you, as me. He loves you just as I do,only more, because he is better. He will help you to be good; and you can go to Heaven at last, and be an angel forever, just as much as if you were white. Only think of it, Topsy!you can be one of those spirits bright, Uncle Tom sings about.
St. Clare, at this instant, dropped the curtain. It puts me in mind of mother, he said to Miss Ophelia. It is true what she told me; if we want to give sight to the blind, we must be willing to do as Christ did,call them to us, and put our hands on them.
Trust any child to find that out, said St. Clare; there s no keeping it from them. But I believe that all the trying in the world to benefit a child, and all the substantial favors you can do them, will never excite one emotion of gratitude, while that feeling of repugnance remains in the heart;it s a queer kind of a fact,but so it is.