Read Online Because of Stephen by Grace Livingston Hill - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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sheets; thunder rumbled; and lightning flashed across the heavens; and Philip blessed the rain again.
"Go into the kitchen, Steve, and wash those dishes," said Philip laughingly, "and I'll help. We're a lazy lot if we can't do the work one day out of seven for our board. It is enough for Miss Halstead to do the cooking." And so they worked together, and Philip hunted around, and managed to make work, little things that Stephen must do at once, and which Margaret kept tellin g them could wait until the mor row; but Phili p insistently kept Stephen help ing him at them till dinner was out of the way and it was nearly five o'clock.
The sky was lighting up, and showed some signs of clearing.
Stephen wandered restlessly to the door, and looked down the road, and then at his watch.
Philip was on the alert, though he did not have that appearance. He glanced at the big piano-case still unopened.
"Miss Halstead," he ventured, "why didn't we open that piano yesterday? If we should knock off a couple of those front boards and get at that keyboard, don't you think you might play for us a little, and while away the rest of this day? Steve will be off to gayer company than ours if you don't amuse him."
He laughed lightly, but there was a troubled something in his voice that caused Margaret to follow his glance toward her brother . She saw the restlessness in his whole attitude, and took alarm. Was it for one or both of the young men she was troubled? She could not have told.
"O, yes, if you can do it easily," said Margaret eagerly. It would be a delight to her to touch the keys of her piano again; it would drive away any lingering homesickness.
Philip's v oice again called Stephen's wan dering attention, and soon their united efforts brought the row of ivory and black keys into view.
Margaret, seated on a kitchen chair, touched strong, sweet chords while the two young men settled down to listen.
Sweet Sa bbath music she played from mem ory, a bit from some of the old masters, a page from an oratorio, a strain from the minor of a funeral march, a grand triumphant hymn. Then she touched the keys more softly, and began to sing low and sweetly; and by and by, there came a rich tenor and a grumbling bass from the two listeners as she wandered into familiar hymns that they had sung as little boys.
The rain came on again, and it grew darker, and still they sang, until at last Philip drew a sigh of relief, and realized that it was bedtime and Stephen had not gone to the village. Then Margaret stopped playing, and they all went to get a lunch before retiring.
Margaret, before she slept that night, asked a blessing again on the work she hoped to do, and never dreamed that already she had been used to keep the brother for whose sake she had come this long journey.
The next week a fter they finished the old woman's room Philip came in with his arms full of great rough stones, and announced that he was ready to begin the fireplace, and he thought it would be best to get the muss and dirt of plaster out of the way before they put things to rights in the living room.
Margaret had almost forgotten the doubts she had about Philip when she first came, and his strange actions on the morning after her arrival, and was prepared to accept both the young men as good comrades, or brothers. Laughingly they all went to work, Margaret drawing the outline of the fireplace that she thought should be built , and Stephen mixing mortar while Philip brought in stones from a great pile tha t had been collected by the for mer owner of the place to build a fence.
"There's nothing like being jack of all trades," said Stephen as he sl apped on some mortar with the bla de of a broken hoe, and settled into it a great stone that Philip had just brought in.
Margaret's eyes shone as she watched the chimney being built . She saw in her mind's eye a charming room, and she was anxious to get it into shape before another Sabbath, that they might have a quiet, restful
"Go into the kitchen, Steve, and wash those dishes," said Philip laughingly, "and I'll help. We're a lazy lot if we can't do the work one day out of seven for our board. It is enough for Miss Halstead to do the cooking." And so they worked together, and Philip hunted around, and managed to make work, little things that Stephen must do at once, and which Margaret kept tellin g them could wait until the mor row; but Phili p insistently kept Stephen help ing him at them till dinner was out of the way and it was nearly five o'clock.
The sky was lighting up, and showed some signs of clearing.
Stephen wandered restlessly to the door, and looked down the road, and then at his watch.
Philip was on the alert, though he did not have that appearance. He glanced at the big piano-case still unopened.
"Miss Halstead," he ventured, "why didn't we open that piano yesterday? If we should knock off a couple of those front boards and get at that keyboard, don't you think you might play for us a little, and while away the rest of this day? Steve will be off to gayer company than ours if you don't amuse him."
He laughed lightly, but there was a troubled something in his voice that caused Margaret to follow his glance toward her brother . She saw the restlessness in his whole attitude, and took alarm. Was it for one or both of the young men she was troubled? She could not have told.
"O, yes, if you can do it easily," said Margaret eagerly. It would be a delight to her to touch the keys of her piano again; it would drive away any lingering homesickness.
Philip's v oice again called Stephen's wan dering attention, and soon their united efforts brought the row of ivory and black keys into view.
Margaret, seated on a kitchen chair, touched strong, sweet chords while the two young men settled down to listen.
Sweet Sa bbath music she played from mem ory, a bit from some of the old masters, a page from an oratorio, a strain from the minor of a funeral march, a grand triumphant hymn. Then she touched the keys more softly, and began to sing low and sweetly; and by and by, there came a rich tenor and a grumbling bass from the two listeners as she wandered into familiar hymns that they had sung as little boys.
The rain came on again, and it grew darker, and still they sang, until at last Philip drew a sigh of relief, and realized that it was bedtime and Stephen had not gone to the village. Then Margaret stopped playing, and they all went to get a lunch before retiring.
Margaret, before she slept that night, asked a blessing again on the work she hoped to do, and never dreamed that already she had been used to keep the brother for whose sake she had come this long journey.
The next week a fter they finished the old woman's room Philip came in with his arms full of great rough stones, and announced that he was ready to begin the fireplace, and he thought it would be best to get the muss and dirt of plaster out of the way before they put things to rights in the living room.
Margaret had almost forgotten the doubts she had about Philip when she first came, and his strange actions on the morning after her arrival, and was prepared to accept both the young men as good comrades, or brothers. Laughingly they all went to work, Margaret drawing the outline of the fireplace that she thought should be built , and Stephen mixing mortar while Philip brought in stones from a great pile tha t had been collected by the for mer owner of the place to build a fence.
"There's nothing like being jack of all trades," said Stephen as he sl apped on some mortar with the bla de of a broken hoe, and settled into it a great stone that Philip had just brought in.
Margaret's eyes shone as she watched the chimney being built . She saw in her mind's eye a charming room, and she was anxious to get it into shape before another Sabbath, that they might have a quiet, restful
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