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When Courtland had finished reading the letter he put his head down on his desk and shed the first tears his eyes had known since he was a little boy. To have a home and mother-heart open to him like that in the midst of all his sorrow and perplexity fairly unmanned him. By and by he lifted up his head and wrote a hearty acceptance of the invitation. That was in November.
Not in angels' hearts beats a sweeter, deeper, richer feeling. Mother is another name for consecrated love. Not all the theologians in the world could convince me that the natural mother-heart is not holy.
The woman is touched and weeps: the mother-heart is much the same all the world over. A few slave-girls are all she finds in the next yard, the other inmates having gone to work at the farms; but she speaks to them and they listen respectfully.
"And she didn't eat no dinner to-day, she was that excited!" "Oh, poor Lu! Can't I take her up something, Aunt Jean?" Mrs. Gibbs appeared to consider the question, though everyone at the table knew very well that her mother-heart had relented towards her darling long ago.
Slowly, gradually, but surely the bright crimson hue spread over him, until the illumination was complete, and the mother felt that he was the most beautiful of her children not the largest, but round and plump and firm and glowing red as a ruby. Then the mother-heart knew that the perils of life were near at hand for Little Red Tom.
Hers was the healing touch, for she had the welling mother-heart, the heart of infinite love; and the cures she worked by simply holding the stricken child in her arms and breathing upon it were thought to be miraculous. With pioneers, children are at a premium. Puritans regarded the death of a child as a visitation of the wrath of God; it filled the whole settlement with terror.
And as she looked at the squalid, uncared-for children growing up in the midst of vice and brutal indifference, she thought of her own little boy spending his days in the great, splendid castle, guarded and served like a young prince, having no wish ungratified, and knowing nothing but luxury and ease and beauty. And a bold thought came in her wise little mother-heart.
Who is to blame? Some one is at fault. There is blame somewhere. This thing is all wrong. It is no part of God's plan, and when things go wrong, some one is to blame. Now I ask you: Who is to blame? A Mother-Heart. Well, there are just four persons, or groups of persons concerned.
I am sorry I ever vexed you." "You never vexed me, Richard!" said the mother-heart; " or if ever you did, I've forgotten it. And now that God has given you back to us, we must see whether we can't do something better for you!" Richard was so weary that he did not care to ask what she meant, and in a moment was asleep, with the letter in his hand.
To me he was not an abstract idea, but a living reality, and all my mother-heart rose up in rebellion against this person in whom I believed, and whose individual finger I saw in my baby's agony.
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