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Updated: June 5, 2025
She had crossed the threshold and stood now in the ambient glow, gazing across the quiet pasture, where a stray sheep bleated. She reached up and broke a bunch of red leaves from the oak, fastening them in her belt as they descended the narrow path. In the road they came upon Uncle Ish, who was hobbling slowly towards them.
I daresay there might have been a touch of the ridiculous in such a confession, but I liked my new friend so much that it took nothing for me from his dignity. "She tells me from behind the door that she'll let me know if he's worse." "It's very good of her," said Miss Ambient with a hollow sound.
It is around them, like the invisible but ambient air on which the eagle, with an awful gulf below, throws herself from her rocky nest in fearless freedom, and with expanded wings. So let men, trusting in God's faithful word, spread out the wings of faith, and cast them on His good will.
The lawn seemed to me of extraordinary extent, the garden-walls of incalculable height, the whole air of the place delightfully still, private, proper to itself. "My wife must be somewhere about," Mark Ambient said as we went in. "We shall find her perhaps we've about an hour before dinner. She may be in the garden. I'll show you my little place."
Miss Ambient asked me if I had enjoyed my walk with her brother, and whether we had talked of many things. "Well, of most things," I said, smiling, though I remembered that we had not talked of Miss Ambient. "And don't you think some of his theories are very peculiar?" "Oh, I guess I agree with them all." I was very particular, for Miss Ambient's entertainment, to guess.
Ambient till six months after this, and therefore can't pretend to have verified the comparison. At the latter period she was again the type of the perfect lady. "She'll treat him better after this," I remember her sister-in-law's saying in response to some quick outburst, on my part, of compassion for her brother.
Mark Ambient made no reply; he simply slipped past her in the doorway, as if he were afraid she would seize him in his passage, and bounded upstairs, to judge for himself of his child's condition. Mrs. Ambient looked slightly discomfited, and for a moment I thought she was going to give chase to her husband.
I adore 'abroad. Have you people like us in America?" "You're not all alike, you interesting three or, counting Dolcino, four surely, surely; so that I don't think I understand your question. We've no one like your brother I may go so far as that." "You've probably more persons like his wife," Miss Ambient desolately smiled.
The massive suggestion, the pressure of the ambient will, is out of all proportion to the present call for action. Infinite resources and definite premonitions are thus stored up in the soul; and merely to have moved solemnly together is the best possible preparation for living afterwards, even if apart, in the consciousness of a general monition and authority.
The smoke rose lazily in the ambient air, and he saw a figure all fluttering rags and flying turban running down the slope away from him. At the same moment there was a crashing volley, followed by two straggling reports. The figure stopped, seemed to hesitate, and then slowly subsided into the grass.
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