United States or Algeria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Desire and Mr. Kirkbright followed her. Mrs. Argenter was sitting in the deep corner of her broad, low sofa, against the two large pillows. "A minute ago," said Sylvie, in the same changed voice, that spoke out of a different world from the world of five minutes before, "she was here! She gave me her plate to put away on the sideboard, and now, when I turned round," She was There.
She remembered what she had said another time about "seeing blue, and living red." She was thinking out by the type the mystery of difference, the broken refractions that God lets his Spirit fall into, when, looking up as she was about to pass some person, she met the face of Christopher Kirkbright. He had not been at home of late; he had been busy up at Brickfield Farms.
"You get it all from that one word, 'raiment. Your words the words you find out, Miss Kirkbright are living things." "Yes, words are living things," Miss Kirkbright answered. "God does not give us anything dead. But the life of them is his spirit, and his spirit is an instant breath. You can take them as if they were dead, if you do not inspire. Men who wrote these words, inspired.
Well, then, every day a man might be giving the Lord's word out somewhere, in some fashion, I think. He needn't wait for the Sundays. Everybody has a congregation in the course of the week. I don't doubt the week-day service is often you preachers' best." "I know it is," Hilary Vireo replied. "Come down into the cabin with me," said Mr. Kirkbright. "I want to look up that old pattern.
Desire Ledwith looked what she was, to-day; a grand, pure woman; a fit woman to stand up beside a man like Christopher Kirkbright, in fair white garments, and say the words that made her his wife. There was a beautiful, sweet majesty in her giving of herself. She did not disdain rich robes to-day, she would give herself at her very best, with all generous and gracious outward sign.
Kirkbright was building "mills and a village and a perfect castle of a house, and a private railroad and heaven knows what," all this to account, indirectly, for the quiet little ordinary ceremony, which of course would otherwise have been at the Church of the Holy Commandments; or at least up-stairs in the long, stately old drawing-room which was hardly ever used.
"If it was her daughter, she should not think she was half married." Mrs. Megilp put it more shrewdly than she had intended. Desire and Christopher Kirkbright were very sure they had not been "half married." It was not the world's half marriage that they had stood up there together for. Elise Mokey and Mary Pinfall came in one evening to see Bel Bree and Kate.
Kirkbright, emphasizing the near and dear detail. "That makes me think," said Miss Euphrasia, suddenly. "Desire," she went on, without explaining why, "we are going up to Brickfield Farms next week, Christopher and I. Why shouldn't you go too, and bring her home, you know?"
Miss Kirkbright and Sylvie had a great deal to say to each other. "I would make it a moral sanatorium. I would take people in here, and nurse them up by beautiful living, till they were ready to begin the world again; and then I would have the little new world, of work and business, waiting just outside.
These plans had come out in the talks over Amy's marriage and her leaving home. Sylvie was left to her village; she could only go in to the Miss Goodwyns and down to the bakery; and now that her condescensions were unlinked from those of Miss Kirkbright, and just dropped into next-door matter of course, Mrs. Argenter fretted. Marion Kent would come calling, too, and talk about Mrs.
Word Of The Day