True to his Colours | Page 4

distances of all the principal stars without mistake or
hesitation, she would have been utterly at a loss if set to make a little
arrow-root or beef--tea for a sick relation or friend.
She wound up her education at school by covering her teachers and
herself with honour by her answers, first to the elementary, and then to
the advanced questions in the papers sent down from the London
Science and Art Department. And when she left school, at the age of
seventeen, to take the place at home of her mother, who was now laid
by through an attack of paralysis, she received the public
congratulations of the school managers, and was afterwards habitually
quoted as an example of what might be acquired in the humbler ranks
of life by diligence, patience, and perseverance.
As for her religious education, it was what might have been expected
under the circumstances. Her parents, ignorant of the truth themselves,
though well-disposed, as it is called, to religion, had sent her when
quite a little one to the Sunday-school, where she picked up a score or
two of texts and as many hymns. She also had gone to church regularly

once every Sunday, but certainly had acquired little other knowledge in
the house of God than an acquaintance with the most ingenious
methods of studying picture-books and story-books on the sly, and of
trying the patience of the teachers whose misfortune it was for the time
to be in command of the children's benches during divine service.
As she grew up, however, Sunday-school and church were both
forsaken. Tired with constant study and the few household duties which
she could not avoid performing, she was glad to lie in bed till the
Sunday-school bell summoned earlier risers; and with the school, the
attendance at church also was soon abandoned.
In summer-time, dressed in clothes which were gay rather than neat or
becoming, she would stroll out across the hills during afternoon service
with some like-minded female companion, and return by tea-time
listless and out of spirits, conscious of a great want, but unconscious of
the only way to satisfy it. For Kate Evans had a mind and heart which
kept her from descending into the paths of open sin. Many young
women there were around her, neglecters, like herself, of God, his
house, and his day, who had plunged into the depths of open profligacy;
but with such she had neither intercourse nor sympathy, for she shrunk
instinctively from everything that was low and coarse. Yet she walked
in darkness; an abiding shadow rested on her spirit. She had gained
admiration and won esteem, but she wanted peace. Her heart was
hungry, and must needs remain so till it should find its only true
satisfying food in "Jesus, the bread of life."
Such was Kate Evans when she had reached the age of twenty--restless,
unsatisfied, fretting under the restraints and privations of a poor
working-man's home, shrinking from earning her bread by the labour of
her hands, yet unable--for her heart would not allow her--to apply for
any school work which might remove her from the home where her
services were greatly needed by her now bed-ridden mother.
It was, then, with no small gratification, though not without some
misgivings, that she found herself the object of special attentions on the
part of William Foster. She was well aware that he was no friend to
religion, but then he was supposed to be highly moral; and she felt not

a little flattered by the devoted service of a man who was the oracle of
the working-classes on all matters of science and higher literature;
while he on his part was equally pleased with the prospect of having for
his wife one who, both in personal attractions and education, was
universally allowed to be in her rank the flower of Crossbourne.
Kate's parents, however, were very unwilling that the intimacy between
Foster and their child should lead to a regular engagement. They had
the good sense to see that he who "feared not God" was not very likely
to "regard man," nor woman either; and they were also well aware that
the public-house and the club would be pretty sure to retain a large
share of Foster's affections after marriage.
But remonstrance and advice were in vain; love was to take the place of
religion, and was to gather into the new home all the cords which
would have a tendency to draw the young man in a different direction.
And neighbours and friends said, "Young people would be young
people;" that Kate would turn any man into a good husband; and that
she would be near at hand to look in upon her old father and mother. So
the attachment duly ripened without further check;