"
"The very noblest specimens of humanity who have climbed to the utmost
peaks of intellectual excellence thought as Mr. Bowen does; as I hope
to think--God helping me, as I do think," I said, with a strange gladness
coming into my heart as if the old, hard heart had been suddenly changed
and made clean for the Master's entrance.
"Poor little girl, I wish you had something more tangible than illusions
to rhapsodize over."
My eyes filled with such happy tears as I lifted them to him, standing at
his side. "If you could only trust God, believe in Him as Mr. Bowen does,
you would find every other delight in life illusive, compared with the
joy He would give you."
"Child, is that your own experience?"
"Yes," I murmured softly.
He turned and left the room abruptly. I went to Mrs. Flaxman, and,
kneeling beside her, my head on her knee--a posture we both enjoyed--I
anxiously asked: "Have I angered Mr. Winthrop?"
"No, dear, he was not angry, for I was watching him; but you did what I
have not seen any one do to him for a good many years. You touched his
heart; 'and a little child shall lead them,'" she murmured so softly, I
scarce could catch the words.
"I am not a little child, Mrs. Flaxman," I remonstrated.
"Your are in some ways, darling. Your mother's prayers for her children
have been answered. Those God has already taken are safe; and you are one
of His little ones whose angel one day shall behold His face in joy."
"I am glad my mother prayed for us; God is so sure to answer a mother's
prayers.
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