Dwell Deep; Or, Hilda Thorn's Life Story
Copyright© 2026 by Amy Le Feuvre
Chapter 12: A Test
‘As woods, when shaken by the breeze,
Take deeper, firmer root;
As winter’s frosts but make the trees
Abound in summer fruit;
So every bitter pang and throe
That Christian firmness tries,
But nerves us for our work below,
And forms us for the skies.’—Henry Francis Lyte.
It was not to be wondered at that my thoughts dwelt much upon Mr. Stanton for the next few days. It was so strange to feel that there was another now in the house who was a follower of Christ, and I wondered if he would have a good influence over Hugh.
One afternoon I was coming back from the village, where I had been to give Jim his reading lesson, when Mr. Stanton overtook me, and we walked home together. I had never as yet seen him alone, and felt a little shy of him; but he soon made me feel at ease by his ready sympathy, and I found myself telling him of my different interests in the village. And then he presently said, ‘Do you find your life difficult at times in such surroundings?’
‘Sometimes I do,’ I responded, ‘but never too difficult.’
‘No,’ he said; ‘we are never placed in circumstances where it is impossible to serve our Master. I sometimes wish a little more of the martial spirit could be instilled into many Christians. A true soldier does not shirk or shrink from the front in battle, but a Christian is very apt to hide his colours if he gets upon the enemy’s ground.’
‘It is a puzzle to me sometimes,’ I said, ‘when it is best to keep silent and when to speak. One’s life ought to tell most amongst unconverted people, and yet that tempts one sometimes to hide one’s light. It is easy to go on one’s way quietly without saying a word to any one, but perhaps it is not being faithful. What do you think about it, Mr. Stanton?’
‘I think,’ he said, ‘if we are living close to the Master, He will never leave us in doubt as to when the opportunity for speaking occurs. If we are ready and waiting on Him, we shall be led to do the right thing. Many good people do more harm than good by making up their minds that they are bound to deliver a message, whether the occasion warrants it or not. And then it is often done in their own strength, and not in the power of the Spirit. I think the answer to all such difficulties is: Live close to Christ, and let Him give you your orders—no one else. The longer I live, the more strongly I feel how useless it is to go by other Christians’ experiences. God leads us all in different ways. Let us strive to learn the sound of His slightest whisper, and take His Word only as our guide. We cannot go wrong then.’
We talked on till we reached home. I could not help feeling the comfort of having some one to speak to on the subjects that were so dear to me. I had had so few to help or advise me, and though I knew the truth of what Mr. Stanton said, that we could not frame our lives by others’ experiences, yet, as a young Christian, I felt refreshed and strengthened by his words. When I said something of this sort to him, he smiled.
‘You have not suffered by the loneliness of your position, Miss Thorn; it has only brought you to know Christ more intimately, and to lean upon Him harder. I have seen a good deal of young Christians pinning their faith to a human being: in some cases a friend who has been the means of their conversion, or a favourite preacher. It is natural, but Satan often uses it as a snare. The Master is not appealed to so often as the friend. He sinks into the background, and when the friend is removed they feel utterly stranded, and in some cases fall back in their Christian life.’
When we reached the house, we found every one in the drawing-room at tea. Miss Willoughby was in high spirits. She was organizing some tableaux that the Forsyths were trying to get up, and was pressing every one into her service.
‘Now, Hilda Thorn,’ she said laughingly, as I entered the room, ‘I am going to ask you a great favour. Don’t purse up that little mouth of yours in anticipation. It is nothing sinful, upon my honour it is not.’
‘You shall not torment her till she has had a cup of tea,’ said Nelly good-naturedly. ‘Come and sit down by me, Hilda.’
‘Will you give her plenty of sugar then, please, Mrs. Forsyth?’ Miss Willoughby pursued; ‘I want her temper sweetened.’
‘I don’t think she possesses a temper,’ put in Kenneth. ‘I know for a fact that I often lose mine in trying to make her lose hers!’
‘If she never loses it, she must have it in her possession,’ said Miss Willoughby drily; and every one laughed.
‘What is it you want?’ I asked a few moments after, having disposed of my tea.
‘Just at present we want a little soothing. There is an east wind to-day, and not being a piece of perfection like yourself, I feel on edge! I have not been treated well. I had my eye on Mr. Stanton for King Arthur, and Hugh tells me they are dining in town on the 6th, which is the date we have fixed. I suspect they have arranged it between them. Then Constance and I want to pose for the same character; she thinks she is better suited to it than I, and she likes her own way. I think the contrary, and I like mine. And the fact is that I’ve been told that you are a great violinist—”Music hath power to soothe the savage breast.” Will you do us the favour of playing to us now? We shall feel more peaceably disposed towards each other afterwards, I know.’
I willingly complied, and played one thing after another. When I put down my violin, I saw Miss Willoughby give an approving nod towards Mrs. Forsyth, and then she said, ‘Thank you—that is a great treat. Now I feel at peace with all mankind; do you?’
‘I think I generally do,’ I replied.
‘Well, now, what I want to ask you is this, —and I am sure you will not be so ill-natured as to refuse, —would you mind playing a little like that just behind a screen for us? You won’t be seen at all, and no one will know who it is. Nelly says you have scruples about taking part in tableaux; but of course this could not be an objection.’
Miss Willoughby dropped the half-mocking tone in which she usually addressed me, and for an instant I felt I could not refuse. Nelly saw my hesitation, and took advantage of it. ‘Do say “Yes,” Hilda; we want a violin, and Violet does play so atrociously; there is no one about here that can do it as well as you. It will only be for about ten minutes.’
‘Why do you want it?’ I asked.
‘I will tell you,’ said Kenneth; ‘we are to have some moving tableaux, illustrating certain pithy sayings. Miss Willoughby has mentioned the one we want you for, —”Music hath charms,” etc. I think I am to pose as one of the villains. We are divided as to whether it is to be a duel or a cold-blooded murder; but I know my part is to transform my face from that in which diabolical hatred and fiendish rage is depicted, into a gradual state of simpering, smiling imbecility, and I think the curtain will fall upon me and my rival locked in each other’s arms, shedding maudlin tears of love into our respective shirt-fronts!’
‘The moral is so awfully good,’ urged Nelly; ‘do be obliging just this once, Hilda.’
‘Of course she is going to do it,’ said Miss Willoughby.
‘I will give you an answer to-morrow,’ I said slowly, and taking up my hat and cloak I left the room.
It was hard sometimes to keep clear of the gaiety around me, and this was one of the cases in which I much wished for advice. I felt inclined to appeal to Mr. Stanton; he had stood a little apart from the others talking to General Forsyth, but I felt sure that he had been within earshot of the whole conversation. Yet his words that afternoon came back to me. I must get my orders from my Master, and not from him. And, as so often before, I went down on my knees in my room, and with my Bible before me sought the advice I needed.