Mrs. Shephard lived in the large brick house on the hill; the one with the terraced grounds in front, the pretty fountain at the side, and all about such beautiful flowers, shubbery, and evergreens. Passers-by, in stopping to admire the beauty of the spot, would often notice a tall, fine-looking gentleman sitting on the veranda, with two bright and remarkably handsome boys by his side. Occasionally a lady would make her appearance, when the boys seemed to lose their freedom, would stop their noise and play, and sit quietly down, or slip away out of sight. The lady had a querulous, discontented and fretful look, and it was little wonder that the neighbors found her so unattractive that they seldom cared to visit her. Her conversation was one series of complaints; her servants furnishing her an unfailing supply in this line. No one, she was sure, ever had such trials as she; even her husband, in her opinion, fell far short of a model; in her boys she took little or no comfort, and it is very certain that with her constant fretting and worry they took but little in her.
Mr. Shephard had spared neither time nor money in making their home a beautiful one, but to her it seemed to be only a constant anxiety and worry. One room was too large for comfort, another too small for convenience, another had a north window where she would prefer a west; some rooms were too cold, others too warm; and then if she threw open her windows, admitting air and sunlight, her carpets were faded and her rooms rendered untidy by dust. If her windows were closed and darkened, must and damp collected and moths reveled in the costly furniture. Thus all of her surroundings, which were capable of giving so much pleasure to a person possessed of a bright, cheerful spirit, were to her only sources of annoyance.
For fourteen years she had searched the intelligence offices and scoured the country in the endeavor to secure a person who could cook a meal fit to be eaten; a second girl who could make a bed fit to be slept in, or tidy a room that would be even half-way respectable; or a woman who could laundry their clothes so that it would not be disgraceful to wear them, or who would not waste more soap, starch, and blueing than her wages came to.
To her it was a perfect wonder that other ladies could find competent servants, and retain them year after year, while she was continually changing and hunting for others. She probably had never heard, or was an unbeliever in, the adage that "a good mistress makes a good servant."
Her father, brothers, and various other gentlemen of her acquaintance were constantly being held up to her husband as persons far superior to him in their many good qualities. Mr. Shephard was a peaceable man, who never retaliated, never even held up his own sweet, loving mother as a contrast to this rasping woman whose scolding tongue was heard the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night; but he often sighed and grew sober as he thought that, with all his endeavors, he had not succeeded in making his wife happy.
The children inherited their father's bright, happy disposition, and this with perfect health gave them such exuberance of spirits and unceasing activity as kept their mother in a constant turmoil.
"John, come out of that tree, and never let me see you attempt to climb a tree again. I never in my life saw such an aggravating boy. You'll be the death of me yet; it does seem so strange that you can't sit down and be quiet! Henry, I should think you would have compassion on my poor head and walk more quietly through the house, and stop that everlasting whistling."
Poor boys; why couldn't, or rather wouldn't, their mother see that it was as unnatural for Henry not to run, sing, or whistle, or for John to "sit down and be quiet," as for her to live without breathing! But for her everything was wrong. Even the weather was always at fault, either too cold or too warm, too dry or too wet. If a refreshing shower fell upon the parched earth, delighting the hearts of all—even to the little flowers of her garden—she saw in it only the mud that would ensue, and the dirt that would be tracked here and there. If the shower was wanting, then "the heat was so debilitating and the dust intolerable."
And so she continued; ever fretting, complaining, and worrying, while the scowling furrows on her brow grew deeper and deeper, banishing every trace of beauty from her once fair face. At her husband's playful remark one day, that he intended trying the effect of a flat iron in pressing out those frowns from her forehead, he was met by such a shower of tears and volley of abuse as effectually closed his lips for the remainder of the day.
As we saw that woman in the midst of comfort and luxury, with so many blessings unstintingly showered upon her, and she, ever thankless, peevish, and petulant, while others in the midst of poverty, sorrow, and affliction were praising God for his blessings, we were tempted to doubt the justice of the Almighty in the eternal fitness of things. But "we saw as through a glass, darkly;" the time came when his wisdom and mercy were manifest even in these seeming incongruities.
A few years later, and on a bright summer day, as we were passing through the street, we noticed an excited crowd collected on one of the corners, and then a body reverently carried from their midst. It was the lifeless remains of John Shephard, who had been thrown from his horse and instantly killed.
This was Mrs. Shephard's first real trouble, and her grief was wild and vehement. She repulsed every attempt at consolation and considered herself the most afflicted of mortals, on whom the Almighty seemed to delight in dispensing evil.
A year more of grumbling discontent, and word came that Henry, who was then a college student at a neighboring city, had been stricken with fever and was lying dangerously ill. A few days later and all that was left of the bright and promising boy was laid in the grave.
Mrs. Shephard was almost frantic under this second affliction, and it was with a rebellious and complaining heart that she drank of the bitter cup. Sympathizing friends again tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable, and full of bitter mourning concerning her hard fate.
For many years after this we lost all trace of her as business called us away to a distant city. A few months ago, however, on returning to our former home, we entered a small millinery store, and were kindly waited on by a middle-aged lady upon whose face were lines of care and sorrow, but who wore an expression of peace, content, and hopefulness. Before I left the store we recognized each other. To find Mrs. Shephard in her present capacity as shopkeeper surprised me much; but her transformation from a scold—the cheerful and attractive person, simply amazed me.
It was in a few words that she told me her story. Two years after the sad death of her second son, Mr. Shephard, in the financial crisis of that year, lost heavily. Their beautiful home was sold, and for the first time in her life Mrs. Shephard was brought face to face with poverty. Her husband struggled hard to rise once more to the surface; perhaps with a cheerful, helpful wife he might have succeeded; as it was, however, he utterly failed, and a few months later died of disease of the heart, leaving his wife penniless and alone.
This last blow was to her the most severe of all; for with all her complaining, she had dearly loved her husband. But now from the depths of a sorrow-stricken heart, and not until now, was she enabled to say, "Thy will be done." The lesson was learned at last, and her rebellious, repining heart was filled with love and trust and sweet submission to the will of her heavenly Father.
"For years I repined without a cause," she said, "and murmured over imaginary troubles; so the Lord gave me cause for repining, and sent me real instead of imaginary trouble. He showered untold blessings upon me, and I was unthankful, unappreciative, and complaining; so one by one he has taken them all away from me; and now, after being stricken nigh unto death, I have a new song in my mouth, even a thanksgiving unto my God."