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_ "OUR Father in heaven never leaves us in a pathless desert," said
Mrs. Markland, light breaking through her tear-filled eye. Her
husband had just related the conversation held with Mr. Willet.
"When the sun goes down, stars appear."
"A little while ago, the desert seemed pathless, and no star
glittered in the sky," was answered.
"Yet the path was there, Edward; you had not looked close enough to
your feet," replied his wife.
"It was so narrow that it would have escaped my vision," he said,
faintly sighing.
"If it were not the safest way for you and for all of us, it would
not be the only one now permitted our feet to tread."
"Safest it may be for me; but your feet could walk, securely, a
pathway strewn with flowers. Ah me! the thought that my folly--"
"Edward," Mrs. Markland interrupted him in a quick, earnest voice,
"if you love me, spare me in this. When I laid my hand in yours on
that happy day, which was but the beginning of happier ones, I began
a new life. All thought, all affection, all joy in the present and
hope in the future, were thenceforth to be mingled with your
thought, affection, joy, and hope. Our lives became one. It was
yours to mark out our way through the world; mine to walk by your
side. The path, thus far, has been a flowery one, thanks to your
love and care! But no life-path winds always amid soft and fragrant
meadows. There are desert places on the road, and steep acclivities;
and there are dark, devious valleys, as well as sunny hill-tops.
Pilgrims on the way to the Promised Land, we must pass through the
Valley and the Shadow of Death, and be imprisoned for a time in
Doubting Castle, before the Delectable Mountains are gained. Oh,
Edward, murmur not, but thank God for the path he has shown us, and
for the clear light that falls so warmly upon it. These friends,
whom he has given us in this our darkest hour, are the truest
friends we have yet known. Is it not a sweet compensation for all we
lose, to be near them still, and to have the good a kind Father
dispenses come to us through their hands? Dear husband! in this
night of worldly life, a star of celestial beauty has already
mirrored itself in my heart, and made light one of its hitherto
darkened chambers."
"Sweet philosopher!" murmured her husband, in a softened voice. "A
spirit like yours would illuminate a dungeon."
"If it can make the air bright around my husband, its happiness will
be complete," was softly answered.
"But these reverses are hard to bear," said Mr. Markland, soberly.
"Harder in anticipation than in reality. They may become to us
blessings."
"Blessings? Oh, Agnes! I am not able to see that. It is no light
thing for a man to have the hard accumulations of his best years
swept from him in a moment, and to find himself, when just passing
the meridian of his life, thrown prostrate to the earth."
"There may be richer treasures lying just beneath the surface where
he has fallen, than in all the land of Ophir toward which he was
pressing in eager haste," said Mrs. Markland.
"It may be so." Markland spoke doubtingly.
"It must be so!" was emphatically rejoined. "Ah, Edward, have I not
often warned you against looking far away into the future, instead
of stooping to gather the pearls of happiness that a good Providence
has scattered so profusely around us? They are around us still."
Markland sighed.
"And you may be richer far than imagination has yet pictured. Look
not far away into the shadowy uncertainties of coming time for the
heart's fruition. The stones from which its temple of happiness is
to be erected, if ever built, lie all along the path your feet are
treading. It has been so with you from the beginning--it is so now."
"If I build not this temple, it will be no fault of yours," said
Markland, whose perceptions were becoming clearer.
"Let us build it together," answered his wife. "There will be no
lack of materials." _
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