"My child, it is natural that people should talk on subjects that most
interest them. Not every one has vision clear enough to penetrate beyond
the tangible and visible."
"Then, in what are the Cavendish aristocracy better than Mrs. Blake, and
that class? Even she talks sometimes to me about God and the soul. She
says she and Daniel think a great deal about these of late."
"God only knows; they may be far better in His sight than any of us,"
Mrs. Flaxman said, wearily.
"Not any better than you, dear friend," I said, clasping the little, thin
hand in mine.
"Yes, better, if they are doing more for others than I, sacrificing their
own ease and pleasure, which, alas, I am not doing."
"How can you say that, when you are making home, and me so happy? I want
to grow to be just such a woman as you."
"Alas, child, you must take a higher ideal than I am to pattern after, if
your life is to be a success."
"Mrs. Blake tells me of a good man living on the Mill Road, who is blind
and thinks a great deal. He says none of us can tell what our lives seem
like to the angels, and that many a one will get an overwhelming surprise
after death; some who think they are no good in the world, mere cumberers
of the ground, will find such blessed surprises as they wander through
the Heavenly places."
"That is very comforting, dear, if we could only hope to be among those
meek ones."
"He told Mrs. Blake she might be one of God's blessed ones if she
wished--that any sincere soul was welcomed by Him.
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