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Updated: June 28, 2025
I shall be glad if you can do anything to help. I am sure she is worthy she has had good parents and been taught to pray." "My dear Ada," said Mr. Lanhearne, "sorrow forces men and women down upon their knees; even dumb beasts in their extremity cry unto God, and He heareth them.
He was able when Mr. Lanhearne ceased speaking to say: "Mademoiselle Denasia is a Cornish woman. She comes from a village not far from where my father lived. I feel that I ought to stand by her in her sorrow. I shall be glad to do anything Miss Lanhearne thinks it right to do." The subject was then dropped, but Roland could take up no other subject.
One bitterly cold night in February Roland returned to Lanhearne House in a particularly unhappy mood. He had been down-town as far as Twenty-third Street, and had been subjected to all the depressing influences of the cold, brown-stony city, swept by that most cruel of winds the east wind which comes with a thaw.
Lanhearne grew very fond of him, and Ada, in spite of her numerous objects of charitable interest, found it singularly pleasant to discuss with so handsome and intelligent a companion religious topics on which their opinions were widely apart. Indeed, she honestly accepted the evident duty of leading him back to the safe and narrow road of creditable dogmas.
He trembled visibly and stood up, though his emotion compelled him instantly to reseat himself. He was on the point of losing consciousness. Mr. Lanhearne and Ada looked at him with anxiety, and Mr. Lanhearne went to his side. "I am better," he said with a heavy sigh. "I knew I knew this poor woman! I told you I was once on the road with a company. She was in it.
It had a happy memory, an air of prosperity about it. Lanhearne! It was a Cornish name! That circumstance gave him the clew. When he was a boy at Eton, he remembered a Mr. Lanhearne who stayed with his father. "By Jove!" he cried, starting to his feet, "he was an American. What a piece of luck it would be if it should be the same man!" He fixed the address in his mind and went to it immediately.
Lanhearne had a new periodical to discuss, and Ada, though unusually grave, lifted her still face with the smile of welcome on it. She had, however, an evident anxiety, and Mr. Lanhearne probably divined its origin, for after dinner was over he said: "Ada, I saw your little missionary here, late. Is there anything very wrong?" "I was just going to tell you, father. Mr.
Lanhearne, and he asked to be alone with him for a little while. "I am going to die," he said, with a face full of vague, melancholy fear. The look was so childlike, so like that of an infant soul afraid of some perilous path, that Mr. Lanhearne could not avoid weeping, though he answered: "No, my dear Roland. The doctor says that the worst is over."
Lanhearne, and his daughter stood by the fireside, and when Denasia entered Ada went rapidly to her side. "We are glad you have come," she said kindly. "You see how ill Mr. Tresham is. You are his countrywoman his friend, I think?" "I am his wife." She said the words with a pathetic pride, and Ada wondered why they hurt her so terribly.
Lanhearne he felt her hand upon his shoulder, and feared to turn lest her face should confront him. Ada's beaming eyes, and soft voice, and mystical rapture of holy enthusiasm touched him on quite a different side of his nature. She made him long to be good he was almost afraid he would become good if he dwelt too much in her presence. And he did not desire to be so not just yet.
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