calculated to secure their own and their children’s highest good.
We are not so sure, therefore, that it would have been any better for Mr. and Mrs. Parker had the latter been less passive, and less willing to believe that her husband was fully capable of deciding as to what was best to be done in all things relating to those pursuits in life by which this world’s goods are obtained. She was passive, and therefore we will believe that it was right for her to be so.
Mrs. Parker, though thus passive in all matters where she felt that her husband was capable of deciding and where he ought to decide, was not without activity and force of character. But all was directed by a gentle and loving spirit, and in subservience to a profound conviction that every occurrence in life was under the direction or permission of God. No matter what she was called upon to suffer, either of bodily or mental pain, she never murmured, but lifted her heart upward with pious submission and felt, if she did not speak the sentiment—”Thy will be done.”
Mrs. Parker was one of three sisters, between whom existed the tenderest affection. Their mother had died while they were young, and love for each other had been strengthened and purified in mutual love and care for their father. They had never been separated, from childhood. The very thought of separation was always attended with pain. If in the marriage of Rachel with Benjamin Parker any thing crossed the mind of the loving and happy girl to cast over it a shade, it was the thought of being separated from her sisters. Not a distant separation, for Benjamin was keeping a store in the village, and there was every prospect therefore of their remaining there, permanently, but a removal from the daily presence of and household intercourse with those, to love whom had been a part of her nature.
In the deeper, tenderer, more absorbing love with which Rachel loved her husband, she found a compensation for what she lost in being separated from her sisters and father. She was happy—but happy with a subdued and thankful spirit.
Not more than a year elapsed after their marriage before Parker began to complain of the badness of the times, and to sit thoughtful and sometimes gloomy during the evenings he spent at home. This grieved Rachel very much, and caused her to exercise the greatest possible prudence and economy in order that the household expenses might be as little burdensome as possible to her husband. But all would not do.
“I am afraid I shall never get ahead here in the world,” Parker at length said outright, thereby giving his wife the first suspicion of what was in his mind—a wish to try his fortune in some other place.
The truth was, Parker was making a living and a little over, but he was not satisfied with this, and had moreover a natural love of change. An acquaintance had talked to him a good deal about the success of a young friend who had commenced in a town some fifty miles away, a business precisely like the one in which he was engaged. According to the account given, on half the capital which Parker possessed, this person was selling double the quantity of goods and making better profits.
A long time did not pass before Parker, after a bitter complaint in regard to his business, said:
“I don’t know what is to be done unless we go to Fairview. We could do a great deal better there.”
“Do you think so?” asked Rachel, in a calm voice, although her heart sank within her at the thought of being separated from those she so tenderly loved.
“I know it,” was the answer. “Fairview is a thriving town, while this place is going behindhand as fast as possible. I shall never get along if I remain here, that is certain.”
Rachel made no reply, but the hand that held the needle with which she was sewing moved at a quicker rate.
“Are you willing to go there?” the husband asked, with some hesitation of manner.
“If you think it best to go I am willing, of course,” Rachel said, meekly.
Parker looked into the face of his wife, as it bent lower over the work she held in her hand, and tried to understand as well as read its expression. But he could not exactly make it out. Nor did the tone of voice in which she so promptly expressed her willingness to remove, if he thought it best, entirely satisfy his mind. Her assent, however, had been obtained, and this being the thing he most desired, he was not long in forgetting the manner in which that assent was given. Of the cloud that fell upon her heart—of the sadness that oppressed—of the foreshadowing loneliness of spirit that came over her, he knew nothing.
A removal once determined upon, it was soon made. A large portion of the goods in Mr. Parker’s store was sold at a rather heavy sacrifice and converted into cash. What remained of his stock was packed up and sent to Fairview, whither with his wife and child he quickly followed. While he looked hopefully ahead, the tearful eyes of Rachel were turned back upon the loved and loving friends that were left behind. But she did not murmur, or make any open manifestation of the grief she felt. She believed it to be her duty to go with her husband, and her duty, if she could not go cheerfully, at least to conceal from others the pain she suffered.
For a time, things looked very bright in Fairview to the eyes of Mr. Parker. He sold more goods and at better prices than at the old place; but he had to credit more. The result of his first year’s business was quite encouraging. There was, however, a slight drawback; very much more than his profits were outstanding. But he doubted not that all would come in.
As for Mrs. Parker the year had not gone by without leaving some marks of its passage upon her heart. Some are purified by much suffering who, to common observation, seem purer far than hundreds around them whose days glide pleasantly on and whose skies are rarely overcast, and then only by a swiftly-passing summer cloud. Rachel Parker was one of these. During the first year of her absence from those who were loved next to her husband and child, her father died. And what rendered the affliction doubly severe, was the fact, that it occurred while she herself was so ill that she could not be moved without endangering her life. He died and she could not be with him in the last sad hours of his earthly existence! He died and was buried, and she was not there to look for the last time upon his beloved face—to follow him to his quiet resting-place—to weep over his grave! She suffered—but to no mortal eye were apparent the adequate signs of that suffering. Even her husband was misled by the calm surface of her feelings into the belief that there was no wild turbulence beneath. He did not see the tears that wet the pillow upon which she slept. He did not know how many hours she lay sleepless in the silent midnight watches. Daily all her duties were performed with unvarying assiduity; and when he spoke to her she answered with her usual gentle smile. That it faded more quickly than was its wont, Benjamin Parker did not notice, nor did he remark upon the fact that she rarely introduced any subject of conversation. Indeed, so entirely was his mind engrossed by business, that it was impossible for him to have any realizing sense of the true state of his wife’s feelings.
Four years were past at Fairview, during which time Parker barely managed to get sufficient out of his store to live upon; the greater portion of his profits being represented by the figures on the debtor side of his ledger. Many of these accounts were good, though slow in being realized; but many more were hopelessly bad. He was very far from being satisfied with the result. He lived, it is true, and by carefully attending to his business could continue to live, and it might be lay up a little; but this did not satisfy Benjamin Parker. He wanted to be getting ahead in the world.
