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God may have different patents of nobility from us. I do not mean in the mere matter of birth, but of what, even to our dim vision, is vastly higher the intellectual dower." "Medoline tries very hard to assure herself that her Mill Road favorites are royalties in exile," Mr. Winthrop said, with a smile, turning to Mrs. Flaxman.
Medoline, to have my faith anchored as yours is, to a beneficent, all-powerful God, I would be willing to die this instant if I might be absorbed into Him, or be taken into his presence forever.
He noticed my abstraction at last, for he said abruptly: "Are you not interested in to-day's lesson, Medoline?" I faltered as I met his searching eye. "I am always interested in what you say, Mr. Winthrop; but to-day my thoughts have been wandering a good deal." "Where have they been wandering to?" My face crimsoned, but I kept silent.
To conceive their Creator turning from such high efforts to send Medoline with a ten dollar bill to the Larkums, to my mind borders on profanity," Mr. Winthrop said, with evident disgust. "The infinitely great and infinitely small alike receive His care.
"You are as glad to have him so richly benefited through your means, as if he were rich and famous." "Why, much more so. Think what a change there will be in his circumstances now." "Medoline, I think your mother's prayers will be answered." I turned around eagerly, "Was she a real Christian, Mrs. Flaxman?" "Yes, a real one, especially after her children were born.
"We are not half thankful enough for our blessings and persist in wearing the peas in our shoes for penance, when we might as well soften them like that wise-hearted Irishman. It would be a blessing if Medoline had medicine for other griefs than those poverty causes." I saw her cast a meaning look at Mr.
I liked to watch his face in those rare moments, and used to speculate on what he might be thinking, and wishing my own thoughts were high and strong enough to follow his on their long upward flight. He looked at me suddenly. "What, if I could read your thoughts now, Medoline? From your intent look I think I was the subject of your meditations." I smiled calmly.
The nurse told me she showed no anxiety respecting her future state." He was silent. At last I said: "You have forgiven her, Mr. Winthrop?" "Forgiven her! Yes, Medoline; and if she had lived, I could never have repaid her for the lesson she taught me, and the favor she conferred on me by going away so abruptly."
We joined the crowds on the sidewalk and after a while he said: "You have not thanked me, Medoline; don't you appreciate my offer?" I tried to speak; but my lip quivered, and I remained silent. "You have thanked me very eloquently, little one; more so than if you had used set phrases." The remainder of our walk was completed mostly in silence.
"Oh, Mr. Winthrop, I must confess to you. I have not been real honest. Won't you forgive me?" I felt the tears rush to my eyes, and my lips quivered like some frightened child's, making me feel sadly ashamed of myself. He looked startled. "What is it, Medoline?" "I earned the money myself. I have been selling pictures."
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