The Right Knock Part 32

"In the moments or times of silence that every healer should seek, there may come something to hint of the truth, some word or text or mind-picture that will teach what no book or teacher could tell, for 'the spirit of truth leads us into all truth,' and the ways and means are varied according to our capacity to receive.

"A mind-picture is a symbol representing some thought. For instance: Suppose while I sit in the silence, there comes to my consciousness a fragment of landscape, a child's face, a storm, a sun. These are ideas symbolized. If it be a pleasant scene, it may be to me a glimpse of the 'green pastures and still waters' that David sang about when depicting the life of the righteous. It would mean peace for my patient. If the symbol be a child's face, it may mean that I must become as a little child in order to be led into the kingdom. A storm may signify that my patient is pa.s.sing through a crisis of mental commotion, in which case I must use the invariable rule, deny the false and affirm the true.

"On the other hand I may never see a symbol, but some suggestive text may come into my mind. If I were depressed or discouraged, these words might give me new courage and hope: 'Fear not, for I am with thee;'

'wait patiently on the Lord, and He will give thee the desires of thine heart.'

"Or I might not be conscious of anything while I am sitting thus in the silence. The answer to my silent question may come to me in the most commonplace way days or weeks after it is asked. Some person may say something that will be the very clue I am seeking. We are not to be anxious or troubled if many questions perplex us, or many problems seem insoluble, but wait, trusting that 'he is faithful who promised.' We must not be wis.h.i.+ng for the same signs or powers that others have, but appreciate what is given to us, for faithfulness shall receive its full reward in due time 'if we faint not.'

"No more to-day. Love to the babies. How glad I am to know they are so well and happy.

"Faithfully, MARION."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

"Comfort our souls with love, Love of all human kind; Love special, close in which, like sheltered dove, Each weary heart its own safe nest may find; And love that turns above Adoringly; contented to resign All loves, if need be, for the love divine."

--_D. M. Mulock Craik._

Grace looked very lovely, as she stepped into the carriage, when Mr.

Carrington called for her. A suggestion of reserved feeling gave an added l.u.s.tre to her beautiful eyes, and the faintest wild-rose tint in her cheeks made her a fit study for any artist.

She looks like Psyche just awakened. Can it be possible, that with all her charms, she was sleeping, before to-day? he thought as he took his seat beside her, thrilled with new hope.

He drove into one of the broad, quiet avenues that led out of the city and into a country road. "I thought you would like to visit 'The Glen,'

and see its autumn dress," he said, as they came in view of the river over which lay the "Glen" road.

"I have been wis.h.i.+ng I might go there, before the leaves fell, and this is exactly what I enjoy," replied Grace, looking out over the scene before her with a keen pleasure.

"Perhaps this is an answer to your wish. Sometimes I think our wishes are answered because of their intensity," said Mr. Carrington, looking meaningly into her face.

"George Eliot says: 'The very intensity keeps them from being answered.'" What gave him the sudden, triumphant certainty that he could bide his time? She had lost all her haughtiness, apparently. He had never seen her in the mood of to-day.

"_Apropos_ of wishes," he resumed, "which are properly thoughts, I have two friends in Boston, who can communicate with each other, no matter how far apart they may be. They call it the power of thought."

"Yes, thought transference. I am quite interested and fully believe it,"

said Grace, glad to have the opportunity of sounding him on this and kindred themes.

He glanced at her in polite surprise. "Indeed," he said, "are you acquainted with the subject?"

"Somewhat; I have seen enough to know it is founded on law," she replied, briefly.

"What law?" he asked, wonderingly, with a slight smile of incredulity lighting his face.

"Mental law, of course."

She then went on to explain to him something of her study of mental healing. At first he was rather skeptical, but on seeing her seriousness, he very soon grew sober and gave the most respectful and apparently absorbed attention. By the time she finished, he was really interested.

"I have often thought that some day there would be more light upon the philosophy of thought, but I was not aware it was so close upon us," he finally said.

"It is certainly much needed now," she replied, looking dreamily at the white clouds floating in the bits of blue above the trees. She was thinking how much it had been worth to her in her trial last night. He noticed the far-away look and wished he might know her thoughts.

What would have been his surprise, could he have been told at this moment how much he was already indebted to Christian Science? for had it not softened the cruel pride that had so encrusted her before? He knew nothing of this. He perceived a change in her manner and even character since he last saw her two years before, although even then his great love had been able to condone all weaknesses, or what others would call weaknesses. To him they were part of her lovableness.

When she so coldly rejected him, unlike most men, he had determined to wait patiently for her indifference to turn into reciprocation. He had recognized but one thing, the simple, supreme fact that he loved Grace Hall. In regard to her, there was and never could be any other thought.

Inspired with such love as this, such sublime patience, such infinite hope, is it any wonder he looked into her eyes and read a hint of victory?

The time was drawing near. His two years of waiting surely gave him liberty to ask, and the right to receive.... As for that, love, such love as his, had royal rights and it would win its own way when the moment came. He would approach the subject gradually, talking about his coming departure, although he had mentioned that in his note, had even dared to tell her this must be his excuse for requesting an answer sooner than she wished to give it.

"Oh, what a lovely group of colors!" exclaimed Grace, involuntarily, pointing to a tree decked in the most gorgeous foliage.

"Shall I get some leaves for you?" he asked, antic.i.p.ating her desire, and descended from the carriage.

Presently he returned, with his hands full of small branches. "They are lovely hues. Is there not something else you would like? I saw some beautiful ferns over yonder," he said, pointing to the spot.

"Will we have time? I _would_ like to get out," she exclaimed eagerly.

"Time! 'There's time for all things,' Shakespeare says," laughed Mr.

Carrington, as he a.s.sisted her to alight.

Grace was in her element amid the speaking grandeur of Nature's hills.

"Have you a sharp pencil, Mr. Carrington? I seem to have lost the one I always carry with me, and that grand oak tree I must have as a model."

He quickly sharpened one and gave it to her.

How beautiful she looked! He delighted to watch every movement of the deft fingers, to study every expression of the beautiful eyes and mobile mouth. He revelled in her beauty, because to him she was the personification of all that was lovely and n.o.ble and great. Her character he would have loved just as much had she been plain instead of beautiful, for his ideal was the inward, not the outward beauty, except as the two blended into one, as they did with her.

"You seem to be partial to the oak, Miss Hall. Is there any reason for it?"

"Yes, I am. It is a grand symbol of strength and firmness of character,"

she replied, still sketching rapidly. "I like to paint trees, for they express so much. Some show such kindly benevolence, with their broad, spreading branches and friendly shade, some are so graceful, with their tall trunks and delicately veined leaves, as though showing a fine, tender nature; while others are stunted and rough, with coa.r.s.e, thick foliage. I place each one as to character and station, and they teach me many beautiful lessons."

"And they will teach me many after this, Miss Grace."

He wanted to say something more, but she was so innocently unconscious of anything but her work that he must wait for a better opportunity.

Having finished her sketch, Grace looked up. The self-consciousness that had scarcely left her, save these past few moments, now returned with painful suddenness. Her eyes met his, and a vivid flush overspread her face, but she said nothing.

"Shall we go?" he asked, holding out his hand to a.s.sist her. His eyes expressed the question his lips could not frame, but she did not see them. They went to the carriage in silence.

The road presently left the woods and turned into a broad country lane.

Both had forgotten the proposed trip to "The Glen," but it made no difference. At last the undercurrent of feeling had burst through all reserves.

Mr. Carrington awaited the final answer, and what did she say?