"I never thought of it in that way. I am afraid now
I will get to undressing my acquaintances, to try and find out how much
that will be fit to take into higher existences they have in their
composition."
"Mr. Winthrop is a very uncomfortable sort of person to live with, but I
think he will have more noble qualities to carry somewhere after death
than the average of my acquaintances. What a pity it is for such splendid
powers of mind to be lost! He has the materials in him to make a grand
angel."
Mrs. Flaxman looked up quickly.
"You cannot think it is his ultimate destiny to be lost?" she questioned.
"He doesn't believe in the Bible. What hope can he have that we will ever
get to heaven?"
"A multitude of prayers are piled between him and perdition. His mother
was a saintly character, whose dying breath was a prayer for him; and
there are others who have taken his case daily to the mercy seat for
years."
"I wish I had some one to pray for me," I said rather fretfully.
"My dear, I do not know any one who has more leisure to pray for
themselves than you have."
I was surprised to hear her speak so lightly on such a solemn subject;
but as I thought the matter over afterward, I could but acknowledge that
she had answered me just as I deserved.
CHAPTER XII.
NEW ACQUAINTANCES.
Mrs. Flaxman's fears were realized. She was detained from her pickles and
preserves for over a fortnight; but the days spent then in the city were
an entirely new revelation of life to me.
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