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Updated: May 9, 2025
"It's hard to understand such a terrible religion!" she cried. "I don't see how those old settlers could believe in it, when there are such beautiful things in the world, if we only open our eyes and look for them. Oh Mr. Insall, I wish I could tell you how I felt when I read your story, and when Mrs. Maturin read me those other books of yours."
For there is one glory of the hyacinth, of the tulip and narcissus and the jonquil, and another of the Michaelmas daisy and the aster. Insall was often there, and on Saturdays and Sundays he took Mrs. Maturin and Janet on long walks into the country.
It had no prejudices; nor did it boast, as the Syndicalists boasted, of its absence of convention. And little by little Janet connected it with Silliston. "It must be wonderful to live in such a place as that," she exclaimed, when the Academy was mentioned. On this occasion Insall had left for a moment, and she was in the little room he called his "store," alone with Mrs.
"We've done everything we can, Edith Hay has given her brandy, and gone off for dry clothes, and we've taken all the children's things out of the drawers and laid her on the floor, but she hasn't come to. Poor child, what can have happened to her? Is the doctor coming?" "Right away," said Insall, and Mrs. Maturin went back into the storeroom.
"And it didn't help her," Janet responded quickly. "No, it didn't help her," Insall agreed, and laughed. "But I'm not sure it isn't true," she went on, "that we want what she's got." The remark, on her own lips, surprised Janet a little. She had not really meant to make it. Insall seemed to have the quality of forcing one to think out loud. "And what she wants, you've got," he told her.
She took a few steps into it, and while he was searching in the table drawer she halted before the great chimney over which, against the panel, an old bell-mouthed musket hung. Insall came over beside her. "Those were trees!" he said. "That panel's over four feet across, I measured it once.
Another time I told her about Silliston, and how this little community for over a century and a half had tried to keep its standard flying, to carry on the work begun by old Andrew, and I thought of those lines, "Other little children Shall bring my boats ashore." That particular application just suddenly, occurred to me, but she inspired it." "You're a born schoolma'am," Insall laughed.
"Thank you, Mister Insall," he said. And Insall, still sitting on his heels, waved his hand. "It is not to mention it," he replied. "Perhaps you may have a clothing store of your own some day who knows!" He looked up at Janet amusedly and then, with a spring, stood upright, his easy, unconscious pose betokening command of soul and body. "I ought to have kept a store," he observed.
"Thank you, Mister Insall," he said. And Insall, still sitting on his heels, waved his hand. "It is not to mention it," he replied. "Perhaps you may have a clothing store of your own some day who knows!" He looked up at Janet amusedly and then, with a spring, stood upright, his easy, unconscious pose betokening command of soul and body. "I ought to have kept a store," he observed.
Once he stopped them, startled, to listen to the cock partridge drumming to its mate.... Sometimes, of an evening, when Janet was helping Mrs. Maturin in her planting or weeding, Insall would join them, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and kneeling beside them in the garden paths. Mrs. Maturin was forever asking his advice, though she did not always follow it.
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