A Country Idyl, and Other Stories. Sarah Knowles Bolton

educates himself. It is blessed that we are alive and well, and are able to work. There is as much room in the world for my children as for anybody’s. You have been a noble son, and we all love you. I wanted to buy you something, but the money had to go for rent.”

      “Oh, never mind, mother! I don’t need anything. I’m going over to Mr. Carter’s to see if they want the snow shovelled from their walks. Tell Willie to come over with his new sled and see me work.” And Hugh’s big blue eyes brightened as he stepped out into the frosty air. Blessed hope of youth, that carries us into the realities of middle life stronger and happier for the burdens that must be borne!

      The Carter mansion away on the hills belonged to the Hon. William Carter, owner of the woollen mills. A man of kind heart, good to his employees, he had always felt an interest in Hugh because the father had worked in his mills. This Christmas morning the Carters wished several walks cleared. The hired man could have done it, but Mr. Carter preferred that Hugh should have the work.

      The owner of the woollen mills watched the boy from the window as he shovelled. “A very promising lad,” he said to his wife, a little lady much younger than himself. “I wonder what he intends to do in the world,” and putting his hands in his pockets he walked up and down the floor. “Jerome Wadsworth was a good workman in the mills. I guess the widow has had a hard time of it since he died.”

      Mr. Carter walked towards the dining-room, where the breakfast dishes were being removed from the table.

      “Margaret, when the boy has finished clearing the walks, send him to me.”

      “Yes, sir,” responded the maid.

      An hour later, his cheeks aglow from labor, Hugh stood in the doorway.

      “Come in, Hugh, and sit down. What are you going to do?”

      “I am ready for any honest work, Mr. Carter. I wanted to go to college, but that is out of the question.”

      “How much would it cost you?”

      “From five to six hundred dollars a year, I suppose.”

      “Would your mother like to have you go?”

      “Very much indeed. She has always wanted it, but I think she really needs my wages now to help her.”

      “But you can help her better after you have an education. You could earn more, and you would be an honor to her.”

      “Yes, I know of nothing that would make her so happy.”

      “Well, my son is young yet, and something may happen which will prevent my sending James to college, so I will send you while I can.”

      Hugh’s blue eyes grew moist. He was indeed to have a Christmas present: a four years’ course at college.

      “I will come over and talk with your mother about it,” said Mr. Carter.

      Hugh hurried home, and entered the cottage quite out of breath. Calling his mother aside, he whispered, “Mother, I have a secret to tell you. Mr. Carter is going to send me to college, and then I can better help you and the rest. Just think of it—to have it happen on Christmas Day! And I never expected it.”

      Mrs. Wadsworth could not speak as she folded her boy in her arms and kissed him. What did it matter to her self-sacrificing heart whether she worked early and late, if Hugh could only be educated! True, he would no longer share her humble cottage, and she would miss his help and companionship, but her life was nothing—his was all. If anything in humanity touches divinity, it is motherhood, that loves and sacrifices without hope of reward.

      Busy days followed, when the little trunk was packed, prayers offered, the good-bys said, and her boy Hugh went out into the world.

      Four years passed—four years with their new friendships, eager plans, broader outlook, and development of character.

      Meantime Widow Wadsworth struggled on, Mr. Carter helping the family somewhat, so that the sisters eventually could fit themselves for teaching. When college days were over another time of anxiety came. Should Hugh have a profession or go into business? He loved books, and finally, after much consideration, he decided to enter the law, working his way as best he could by teaching and writing. Steadily he won success, and before thirty was on the road to fame and fortune.

      The years had whitened Widow Wadsworth’s hair. All her family were now earning, and life had become easier. The years, too, had brought changes in the Carter family. The woollen mills had failed to bring money to their owner, and the large home had passed into other hands. Pretty Isabel Carter, whom it was whispered Hugh had desired to marry, had thrown herself away on a showy youth, who married her with the expectation of securing a fortune. James Carter, the only son, was working his way through college.

      As is often the case, a woman was longing and praying for James’s success. Jenny Wadsworth was teaching a village school. She and James Carter had been friends. She knew his many good qualities, and whether he ever cared for her or not she determined that his father’s failure should not spoil his life if she could help it. Kate could assist the family, and unbeknown to any one Jenny was saving money for James Carter’s education. One morning a letter was sent to Hugh, saying: “James Carter is trying to work his way through college, and we must help him. Here is one hundred dollars which I have saved, and I will send more soon. Do not tell anybody living, but use it for him. Mr. Carter helped you, and I know you will be only too glad to help James. I see him rarely, but he is a noble fellow, and I long to have him succeed. In a little while he can be in the office with you. Your loving sister, Jenny.”

      Hugh smiled as he read the letter, and blessed woman for her sweet self-sacrifice; but a shadow came over his face in a moment. Perhaps he thought of Isabel, and of his own disappointment.

      A letter was sent to James the next morning with a check from Hugh and a hundred dollars from “a friend.” “Come to me,” wrote Hugh, “as soon as you are through college, and let me help to repay a little of the debt I shall always owe your father.”

      When his course was finished James Carter, manly in physique and refined in face, stood in the doorway of a New York office. He was warmly welcomed by Hugh, who had not seen him for years.

      “The debt is more than paid to my father,” said James. “I have had your example always before me to surmount obstacles and make a man of myself, and now in turn I hope to help you by faithful labor. I have been curious to learn of the ‘friend’ who has sent me money. I have thought over all my father’s acquaintances and cannot decide who it can be.”

      “Oh, never mind, James; you will learn sometime perhaps, and it is of no consequence if you do not! The act of giving is what broadens hearts, whether the giver ever be known or not. I promised to keep it a secret.”

      The two young men went to live in quiet bachelor quarters together. Work, earnest and absorbing, filled the days and often the evenings.

      “I have asked mother and Jenny to spend a few days with us,” said Hugh one evening. “Jenny teaches in a town not far from here, and my good mother has been visiting her, and will stay here a little on her way to West Beverly.”

      “That will do us good. I have had so little time to see ladies that it will seem quite a home touch to our bachelor life,” responded James.

      Mrs. Wadsworth and her daughter came, and a week passed happily. Jenny was intelligent and charming—how could she be other than lovely with such a mother? The four walked in the evenings, Jenny seeming naturally to be left in the care of James, while Hugh delighted in showing attention to his mother. When mother and daughter had gone home the quiet room seemed desolate. Hugh missed them, but James was absolutely homesick. New York, great and fascinating, had lost its attraction. With the departure of one face the sun seemed to fade out of the sky.

      “You seem sad, James,” said Hugh, as they sat together one evening—he wondered if Jenny’s visit did not have something to do with it—“and perhaps you better take a few days’ vacation and go home.”

      “I am