Nobody

"Why not, pray? Is this Puritanism?"

"Not at all," said Lois, smiling.

"She is a regular Puritan, though," said Madge.

"It isn't that," Lois repeated. "I like going out among people as wellas Madge does. I am afraid I might like it too well."

"What do you mean by 'too well'?" demanded her protectress, a littleangrily.

"More than would be good for me. Just think – in a little while I mustgo back to Esterbrooke and teaching; don't you see, I had better notget myself entangled with what would unfit me for my work?"

"Nonsense! That is not your work."

"You are never going back to that horrid place!" exclaimed Madge.

But they both knew, from the manner of Lois's quiet silence, that theirpositions would not be maintained.

"There's the more reason, if you are going back there by and by, whyyou should take all the advantage you can of the present," Mrs. Wishartadded. Lois gave her a sweet, grateful look, acknowledging hertenderness, but not granting her conclusions. She got away from thesubject as soon as she could. The question of the sisters' return homehad already been broached by Lois; received, however, by Mrs. Wishartwith such contempt, and by Madge with such utter disfavour, that Loisfound the point could not be carried; at least not at that time; andthen winter began to set in, and she could find no valid reason formaking the move before it should be gone again, Mrs. Wishart'sintention being unmistakeable to keep them until spring. But how wasshe going to hold out until spring? Lois felt herself veryuncomfortable. She could not possibly avoid seeing Mr. Dillwynconstantly; she could not always help talking to him, for sometimes hewould make her talk; and she was very much afraid that she liked totalk to him. All the while she was obliged to see how much attention hewas paying to Madge, and it was no secret how well Madge liked it; andLois was afraid to look at her own reasons for disliking it. Was itmerely because Mr. Dillwyn was a man of the world, and she did not wanther sister to get entangled with him? her sister, who had made nopromise to her grandmother, and who was only bound, and perhaps wouldnot be bound, by Bible commands? Lois had never opened her Bible tostudy the point, since that evening when Mr. Dillwyn had interruptedher. She was ashamed to do it. The question ought to have no interestfor her.

So days went by, and weeks, and the year was near at an end, when thefirst snow came. It had held off wonderfully, people said; and now whenit came it came in earnest. It snowed all night and all day; and slowlythen the clouds thinned and parted and cleared away, and the westeringsun broke out upon a brilliant world.

Lois sat at her window, looking out at it, and chiding herself that itmade her feel sober. Or else, by contrast, it let her know how sobershe was. The spectacle was wholly joy-inspiring, and so she had beenwont to find it. Snow lying unbroken on all the ground, in one white, fair glitter; snow lying piled up on the branches and twigs of trees, doubling them with white coral; snow in ridges and banks on theopposite shore of the river; and between, the rolling waters. Madgeburst in.

"Isn't it glorious?" said Lois. "Come here and see how black the riveris rolling between its white banks."

"Black? I didn't know anything was black," said Madge. "Here is Mr.Dillwyn, come to take me sleigh-riding. Just think, Lois! – a sleighride in the Park! – O, I'm so glad I have got my hood done!"

Lois slowly turned her head round. "Sleigh-riding?" she said. "Are yougoing sleigh-riding, and with Mr. Dillwyn?"

"Yes indeed, why not?" said Madge, bustling about with great activity."I'd rather go with him than with anybody else, I can tell you. He hasgot his sister's horses – Mrs. Burrage don't like sleighing – and Mr.Burrage begged he would take the horses out. They're gay, but he knowshow to drive. O, won't it be magnificent?"

Lois looked at her sister in silence, unwilling, yet not knowing whatto object; while Madge wrapped herself in a warm cloak, and donned asilk hood lined with cherry colour, in which she was certainlysomething to look at. No plainer attire nor brighter beauty would beseen among the gay snow-revellers that afternoon. She flung a sparklingglance at her sister as she turned to go.

"Don't be very long!" Lois said.

"Just as long as he likes to make it!" Madge returned. "Do you thinkI am going to ask him to turn about, before he is ready? Not I, Ipromise you. Good-bye, hermit!"

Away she ran, and Lois turned again to her window, where all the whiteseemed suddenly to have become black. She will marry him! – she wassaying to herself. And why should she not? she has made no promise. I am bound – doubly; what is it to me, what they do? Yet if not right forme it is not right for Madge. Is the Bible absolute about it?

She thought it would perhaps serve to settle and stay her mind if shewent to the Bible with the question and studied it fairly out. She drewup the table with the book, and prayed earnestly to be taught thetruth, and to be kept contented with the right. Then she opened at thewell-known words in 2 Corinthians, chap. vi.

"Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers" —

"Yoked together." That is, bound in a bond which obliges two to go oneway and pull in one draught. Then of course they must go one way; andwhich way, will depend upon which is strongest. But cannot a good womanuse her influence to induce a man who is also good, only not Christian,to go the right way?

Lois pondered this, wishing to believe it. Yet there stood the command.And she remembered there are two sides to influence; could not a goodman, and a pleasant man, only not Christian, use his power to induce aChristian woman to go the wrong way? How little she would like todisplease him! how willingly she would gratify him! – And then therestands the command. And, turning from it to a parallel passage in 1Cor. vii. 39, she read again the directions for the marriage of aChristian widow; she is at liberty to be married to whom she will,"only in the Lord." There could be no question of what is the will ofGod in this matter. And in Deut. vii. 3, 4, she studied anew thereasons there given. "Neither shalt thou make marriages with them; thydaughter thou shalt not give unto his son, nor his daughter shalt thoutake unto thy son. For they will turn away thy son from following me, that they may serve other gods."

Lois studied these passages with I cannot say how much aching of heart.Why did her heart ache? It was nothing to her, surely; she neitherloved nor was going to love any man to whom the prohibition couldapply. Why should she concern herself with the matter? Madge? – Well,Madge must be the keeper of her own conscience; she would probablymarry Mr. Dillwyn; and poor Lois saw sufficiently into the workings ofher own heart to know that she thought her sister very happy in theprospect. But then, if the question of conscience could be so got over,why was she troubled? She would not evade the inquiry; she forcedherself to make it; and she writhed under the pressure and the pain itcaused her. At last, thoroughly humbled and grieved and ashamed, shefled to a woman's refuge in tears, and a Christian's refuge in prayer; and from the bottom of her heart, though with some very hard struggles, gave up every lingering thought and wish that ran counter to the Biblecommand. Let Madge do what Madge thought right; she had warned her ofthe truth. Now her business was with herself and her own action; andLois made clean work of it. I cannot say she was exactly a happy womanas she went down-stairs; but she felt strong and at peace. Doing theLord's will, she could not be miserable; with the Lord's presence shecould not be utterly alone; anyhow, she would trust him and do herduty, and leave all the rest.

She went down-stairs at last, for she had spent the afternoon in herown room, and felt that she owed it to Mrs. Wishart to go down and keepher company. O, if Spring were but come! she thought as she descendedthe staircase, – and she could get away, and take hold of her work, andbring things into the old train! Spring was many weeks off yet, and shemust do different and harder work first, she saw. She went down to theback drawing-room and laid herself upon the sofa.

"Are you not well, Lois?" was the immediate question from Mrs. Wishart.

"Yes, ma'am; only not just vigorous. How long they are gone! It isgrowing late."

"The sleighing is tempting. It is not often we have such a chance. Isuppose everybody is out. You don't go into the air enough, Lois."

"I took a walk this morning."

"In the snow! – and came back tired. I saw it in your face. Suchdreadful walking was enough to tire you. I don't think you half knowhow to take care of yourself."

Lois let the charge pass undisputed, and lay still. The afternoon hadwaned and the sun gone down; the snow, however, made it still lightoutside. But that light faded too; and it was really evening, whensounds at the front door announced the return of the sleighing party.Presently Madge burst in, rosy and gay as snow and sleigh-bells couldmake anybody.

"It's glorious!" she said. "O, we have been to the Park and all over.It's splendid! Everybody in the world is out, and we saw everybody, andsome people we saw two or three times; and it's like nothing in all theworld I ever saw before. The whole air is full of sleigh-bells; and theroads are so thick with sleighs that it is positively dangerous."

"That must make it very pleasant!" said Lois languidly.

"O, it does! There's the excitement, you know, and the skill ofsteering clear of people that you think are going to run over you. It'sthe greatest fun I ever saw in my life. And Mr. Dillwyn drivesbeautifully."

"I dare say."

"And the next piece of driving he does, is to drive you out."

"I hardly think he will manage that."

"Well, you'll see. Here he is. She says she hardly thinks you will, Mr.

Dillwyn. Now for a trial of power!"

Madge stood in the centre of the room, her hood off, her little plaincloak still round her; eyes sparkling, cheeks rosy with pleasure andfrosty air, a very handsome and striking figure. Lois's eyes dwelt uponher, glad and sorry at once; but Lois had herself in hand now, and wasas calm as the other was excited. Then presently came Mr. DilIwyn, andsat down beside her couch.

"How do you do, this evening?"

His manner, she noticed, was not at all like Madge's; it was quiet, sober, collected, gentle; sleighing seemed to have wrought noparticular exhilaration on him. Therefore it disarmed Lois. She gaveher answer in a similar tone.

"Have you been out to-day?"

"Yes – quite a long walk this morning."

"Now I want you to let me give you a short drive."

"O no, I think not."

"Come!" said he. "I may not have another opportunity to show you whatyou will see to-day; and I want you to see it."

He did not seem to use much urgency, and yet there was a certaininsistance in his tone which Lois felt, and which had its effect uponher, as such tones are apt to do, even when one does not willinglysubmit to them. She objected that it was late.

"O, the moon is up," cried Madge; "it won't be any darker than it isnow."