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Updated: May 13, 2025
They did not know, of course, that it was Walden's habit to pause in whatever part of the service he was reading if anyone came in late, to wait till the tardy arrivals took their places, and then to begin the interrupted sentence over again, a habit which had effectually succeeded in making all his parishioners punctual.
Then she wrote this sentence from Dr. Walden's lips: "Every author whose books go into the Sabbath-school is as much a teacher in that school as though he had classes there. A good book is a book that will aid the teacher in his work of bringing souls to Christ.
They were unaware that some of Walden's parishioners, moved by the same idea of praying for Maryllia while she was undergoing the operation which was to save or slay, had come to the church also for that purpose, but were brought to a pause on the threshold of the building by the sight they saw within.
Shuffling about a little, he murmured something about the 'apples comin' on fine in the orchard' as if Walden's three days' absence had somehow or other accelerated their ripening, and then slowly and reluctantly retired, deeply dejected in his own mind. "For silence gives consent," he argued dolefully with himself "That's copybook truth!
His Grace was an undersized fat man, with a bald head and a red face, and on Walden's being presented to him, merely nodded with a patronisingly casual air.
'Passon Walden's' wedding-day was the chief great historic event of its conscious life.
And this fact pre-disposed them to survey Walden's face and figure with critical attention as he left the chancel and ascended the pulpit during the singing of 'The Lord is my Shepherd. At the opening chords of that quaint and simple hymn, Cicely Bourne glanced at Miss Eden and Susie Prescott with a little suggestive smile, and caught their appealing glances, then, as the quavering chorus of boys and girls began, she raised her voice as the 'leading soprano, and like a thread of gold it twined round all the notes and tied them together in clear and lovely unison: "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, He maketh me down to lie, In pleasant fields where the lilies grow, And the river runneth by."
In a little time they came to the mountains, and found the pathway blazed by the Boones. In less than a fortnight they passed the first ridge of the Alleganies, known as "Powel's range," and were now quietly descending the second, known as "Walden's range," when sorrow overtook them. They were in a dark and narrow gap, when the wild yell of Indians broke upon their ears.
It was the merest trifle that Sir Morton Pippitt should have brought his 'distinguished guests, including Marius Longford, to see John Walden's church and also have taken him to visit Maryllia in her own home; it was equally trifling that Longford, improving on the knightly Bone-Melter's acquaintance, should have chosen to import Lord Roxmouth into the neighbourhood through the convenient precincts of Badsworth Hall; it was a trifle that Maryllia should have actually believed in the good faith of two women who had formerly entertained her at their own houses and whose hospitality she was anxious to return; and it was a trifle that John Walden should, so to speak, have made a conventionally social 'slip' in his protest against smoking women; but there the trifles stopped.
The monotonous click-click-click continued, now stopping for a second, then going on more rapidly again, till Maryllia began to feel quite unreasonably impatient. She found something irritating at last in the contemplation of the back of Walden's cranium, it was too well-shaped, she decided, she could discover no fault in it. Humming a tune carelessly under her breath, she turned towards Mrs.
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