"
"Oh, my dear, that is too much to ask; but how happy we were. All was so
still; it used to seem sometimes as if earth were just a dream; and that
we walked in Paradise. Sometimes in the Greater Silence, when we had
spoken no word nor heard one except in God's praise, it used to seem that
if we could but be silent a little longer, and a little more deeply, in
our hearts as well, we should hear them talking in heaven, and the harps;
and the Saviour's soft footsteps. But it was not always like that."
"You mean," said Mary softly, "that, that--" and she stopped.
"Oh, it was hard sometimes; but not often. God is so good. But He used
to allow such trouble and darkness and noise to be in our hearts
sometimes--at least in mine. But then of course I was always very wicked.
But sitting in the nymph-hay sometimes on a day like this, as we were
allowed to do; with just tall thin trees like poplars and cypresses round
us: and the stream running through the long grass; and the birds, and the
soft sky and the little breeze; and then peace in our hearts; and the
love of the Saviour round us--it seemed, it seemed as if God had nothing
more to give; or, I should say, as if our hearts had no more space."
Mary was strangely subdued and quiet. Her little restless movements were
still for once; and her quick, vivacious face was tranquil and a little
awed.
"Oh, Mistress Margaret, I love to hear you talk like that. Tell me more."
"Well, my dear, we thought too much about ourselves, I think; and too
little about God and His poor children who were not so happy as we were;
so then the troubles began; and they got nearer and nearer; and at last
the Visitor came.
Pages:
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90