JUST IN TIME by John W. Kirton, LL.D.

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 13, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 19.

JUST IN TIME.

By John W. Kirton, LL.D.

BY JOHN W. KIRTON, LL.D.

GREAT was the pleasure anticipated by Ellen Mortimer when she received a letter informing her that her Aunt Betsy had fixed the day to pay a long-promised visit.

Ellen had been a favorite with her aunt, and experienced her first great grief when her husband told her that she would have to lose her frequent visits, owing to the opening up of a new branch of the business of the firm in which he had been employed for some years, and to which he had been appointed as manager.

Only one thing reconciled her, and that was a definite promise that her aunt would pay them a visit in their new home as soon as arrangements could be made. Owing, however, to one thing and another turning up, over two years had passed away without the promise being fulfilled; but at length the time was fixed, and Ellen for several days was as busy as she could be, getting the room ready for her guest.

"She must not see anything out of order," was Ellen's remark to her husband, as he expressed his surprise at her turning everything upside down, as if some terrible disease had invaded their dwelling.

"That's all very well," he answered; "but for my part, I don't believe she would wish you to make such a fuss and a bother about her coming."

In vain did he express his sentiments. She was at it early and late, to let her aunt see everything as "spick and span" as possible on her arrival and during the whole of her stay.

"There, everything is at last ready," she said, as she sat down to tea with her husband and two children the night before her aunt's expected arrival.

"For which I am truly thankful," was his warm and expressive reply.

"Oh, you men don't understand such matters!" she answered, as she again looked with an air of satisfaction round the room.

Next morning she was up early, so as to have everything quite ready, and to have nothing to do when her aunt arrived but to overwhelm her with attention, and listen to all she had to say about everything and everybody, and great was her joy to hear the hearty words with which her aunt complimented her upon the appearance of her children and home.

They spent a very happy evening, as may be imagined with so much to say and hear, although Aunt Betsy was at last obliged to say she was rather tired from her journey, and felt a good night's rest to be needful to put her all right.

"I'm not so young as I used to be, my dear," she said to Ellen as she bade her good-night and thanked her for the evident trouble she had caused by her visit to their bright and cheerful home.

Several days quickly passed away with walks out now and then down the lanes with the children, picking the wild flowers which grew thickly on the banks. The evenings also when Harry came home were times of gladness.

Meantime Aunt Betsy kept her eyes open, but said little. She knew Ellen's good qualities, and also her failings, but was not prepared at first to notice how the latter had grown so much upon her, and especially how unaware she seemed to be of their nature and tendency. At length she took advantage of a chance which came in her way by Harry having to stay later than usual at the warehouse.

The children had both been put to bed, and Ellen was expressing her thankfulness when she was startled by her aunt asking in a serious tone of voice:—

"Ellen, my dear, do you know what your husband will do when you are dead?"

"Me dead, aunt! Whatever has put that into your head? I am quite well, and have no thought of dying yet."

"Perhaps not. But listen to what I have to say. The strongest and most intelligent man in the world cares more for a woman's tenderness than for anything else in the world, and without this the cleverest and most perfect housekeeper is sure to lose her husband's affections in time, as I can see you are losing Harry's."

"Aunt, I am sure you are mistaken."

"Don't interrupt me, dear, till I have given you proof. I cannot shut my eyes or ears to what is going on. Let me call your attention to one or two things. This morning your husband was half way across the kitchen, bringing you in some nice lettuce he had grown in the garden, and all you did was to look at them and say, 'There, Harry, that will do; see your dirty boots on my clean floor.' Some men would have thrown the lettuce out into the road. After he had his breakfast, you screwed up your face when he kissed you, because his moustache was damp, and said, 'I never want to kiss you again.' When he empties anything, you tell him not to spill it. From morning to night your sharp voice is heard complaining and fault-finding either with the children or with your husband when he is near. You have given way to it until you don't realize its evil nature, but I tell you—there may be a few more men like Harry—as gentle, loving, tender, and as forgetful of self, and so satisfied with loving that their affection will die a long and struggling death; but as sure as you are living, it takes but a few years of such fretfulness and fault-finding as you give way to constantly to turn the best husband's love into irritation and indifference, if not hatred."

"But, aunt, I am sure that—"

"Yes, you may be sure—you are not dead yet, but if you do go first, Harry will marry the sweetest-tempered woman he can find. She may not be as good a housekeeper as you are, but she will be considerate and good-natured, which will cover a multitude of other shortcomings."

"I am sure I never thought I was so bad, aunt."

"Perhaps not, but I see you drifting down the wrong line and wish to stop you. There is yet time to become more considerate and sweet than you have been, and take my word for it, your husband will be the first to own that there is not a sweeter or better-tempered woman in the world when he finds out you have changed from your fault-finding, fretful way to one of tenderness and a ready recognition of what he is doing to make you and your children happy. Above all, pray to God to help you to try to live peaceably and to subdue your impatience."

Ellen did so, and Harry had the joy of writing for Aunt Betsy to come again to see the change, although he little knew how it had been brought about "just in time" to save him from giving up in despair.—Selected