Working in the Shade | Page 3

do. And just for this reason, because you're in the habit
of burning candles instead of letting off fireworks; and so you think
your humble candles aren't of much service because they don't go off
with a rush and a fizz. Is that it?"
"Perhaps it may be so," said the other, laughing.
"Well, do you remember what Shakespeare says?" asked the old man.
"`How far that little candle throws its beams, So shines a good deed in
a naughty world.'
"Now, I want you kindly to answer me a question. It is this, Are there
any unselfish people in Franchope or the neighbourhood?"
The question was put so abruptly, and was so odd in itself, that Mary
Stansfield looked in her companion's face with a half misgiving. He
noticed it instantly. "You're a little doubtful as to the old gentleman's
vanity?" he said, laughing; "but I'm quite sane and quite in earnest; and
I repeat my question."
"Really," said the other, much amused, "it is a very difficult question to

answer. I hope and believe that there are many unselfish persons in our
neighbourhood, or it would be sad indeed."
"Ah! True," was his reply, "but hoping is one thing, and believing is
another. Now, I've been half over the world, and have come back to my
own country with the settled conviction that selfishness is the great
crying sin of our day; and it seems to me to have increased tenfold in
my own native land since I last left it. So I should very much like to
meet with a specimen or two of genuine unselfish people; for I have
some important work to do here, and I shall stand in need of truly
unselfish helpers. Can you name me one or two?"
"Well, sir, if you mean by unselfish persons those who really work for
God's glory and not their own, I freely admit that they are, and I
suppose always must be, comparatively rare."
"That is exactly what I do mean, my dear young lady; can you help me
to find a few such unselfish workers in your own rank of life, and of
your own sex?"
His companion was silent for a few moments, then she said slowly and
timidly, "I judge, dear sir, from the tone of your questions that you are
a follower of that Saviour who has set us the only perfect example of
unselfishness."
"I trust so, my young friend," was the other's reply; "I wish at least to
be so. Well, I see we have only a few more steps to bring us to your
aunt's lodge. We shall meet again, I have no doubt, before long; and
perhaps when we do I shall have more to say to you on the same
subject. Farewell, and thank you." And with a courteous salutation he
parted from her.
CHAPTER TWO.
SETTLING DOWN.
Restoration and improvement went on vigorously at Riverton Park. The
front of the house soon lost its careworn appearance; the walks laid

aside their weeds, and shone with a lively surface of fresh gravel; the
shutters ceased to exclude the daylight; while painters and paperers,
masons and carpenters, decorators and upholsterers soon brought the
interior of the dwelling into a becoming state of beauty, order, and
comfort.
And now the new proprietor was looked for with anxious expectation.
His name had already got abroad, and all the gentry round were
prepared to welcome Colonel Dawson when he should take possession
of his newly acquired property. The colonel was an old retired officer,
who had spent many years since leaving the army in one or more of the
colonies. And now he was come home again, and intended to pass the
rest of his days at Riverton. This was all that report could confidently
affirm at present.
Was he an old bachelor or married? And if the latter, was his wife still
living, and was there any family? Very conflicting rumours got abroad
on this subject, but very little satisfaction came of them. All that could
conclusively be gathered was that Park House was to have a lady
inhabitant as well as the colonel; but that only a portion of the house
was to be fully furnished. The appearance of a coachman daily
exercising two noble carriage-horses was also hailed as a sign that the
colonel did not mean to lead an unsociable life.
So Franchope and its neighbourhood were content, and watched the
arrivals at the station day by day with patient interest. At length, in the
first week in August, it was observed that the colonel's carriage drew
up at the railway office to meet the evening train from London. From a
first-class carriage there emerged three persons--the colonel, an elderly
lady, and a young man who might be