Part 34 (2/2)
”Have you no lesson for your father? The old man needs it most.”
She laid her thin hand tenderly on his, that if her words should bring reproach, she might seem to share it with him.
”Yes, father, this. That if the chief desire of the heart is for the right, it is possible for any human being, through all trials, temptations, and mistakes, to bring good out of evil, hope from despair, success from defeat, and come at last to know an hour as beautiful and blest as this.”
Who could doubt that _she_ had learned the lesson, when from the ruins of the perishable body the imperishable soul rose steadfast and serene, proving that after the long bewilderment of life and love it had attained the eternal peace.
The room grew very still, and while those about her pondered her words with natural tears, Sylvia lay looking up at a lovely picture that seemed leaning down to offer her again the happiest memory of her youth.
It was a painting of the moonlight voyage down the river. Mark had given it that day, and now when the longer, sadder voyage was nearly over, she regarded it with a tender pleasure. The moon shone full on Warwick, looking out straight and strong before him with the vigilant expression native to his face; a fit helmsman to guide the boat along that rapid stream. Mark seemed pausing to watch the oars silvered by the light, and their reflections wavy with the current. Moor, seen in shadow, leaned upon his hand, as if watching Sylvia, a quiet figure, full of grace and color, couched under the green arch. On either hand the summer woods made vernal gloom, behind the cliffs rose sharply up against the blue, and all before wound a s.h.i.+ning road, along which the boat seemed floating like a bird on slender wings between two skies.
So long she lay forgetful of herself and all about her, that Moor saw she needed rest, for the breath fluttered on her lips, the flowers had fallen one by one, and her face wore the weary yet happy look of some patient child waiting for its lullaby.
”Dear, you have talked enough; let me take you up now, lest the pleasant day be spoiled by a sleepless night.”
”I am ready, yet I love to stay among you all, for in my sleep I seem to drift so far away I never quite come back. Good night, good night; I shall see you in the morning.”
With a smile, a kiss for all, they saw her fold her arms about her husband's neck, and lay down her head as if she never cared to lift it up again. The little journey was both a pleasure and pain to them, for each night the way seemed longer to Sylvia, and though the burden lightened the bearer grew more heavy-hearted. It was a silent pa.s.sage now, for neither spoke, except when one asked tenderly, ”Are you easy, love?” and the other answered, with a breath that chilled his cheek, ”Quite happy, quite content.”
So, cradled on the heart that loved her best, Sylvia was gently carried to the end of her short pilgrimage, and when her husband laid her down the morning had already dawned.
FAITH GARTNEY'S GIRLHOOD,
By the Author of ”The Gayworthys,” ”Boys at Chequa.s.set”
This charming story fills a void long felt for something for a young girl, growing into womanhood, to read.
It depicts that bewitching period in life, lying between FOURTEEN and TWENTY, with its n.o.ble aspirations, and fresh enthusiasms. It is written by a very accomplished lady, and is ”_the best book ever written for girls_.”
A lady of rare culture says,--
”'Faith Gartney's Girlhood,' is a n.o.ble, good work, that could only have been accomplished by an elevated mind united to a chaste, tender heart.
From the first page to the last, the impression is received of a life which has been lived; the characters are genuine, well drawn, skilfully presented; they are received at once with kind, friendly greeting, and followed with interest, till the last page compels a reluctant farewell.
”'The book is written for girls, growing as they grow to womanhood.' The story has an interest, far beyond that found in modern romances of the day, conveyed in pure, refined language; suggestive, pleasing thoughts are unfolded on every page; the reflective and descriptive pa.s.sages are natural, simple, and exquisitely finished.
”In these days, when the tendency of society is to educate girls for heartless, aimless, fact.i.tious life, a book like this is to be welcomed and gratefully received. Wherever it is read, it will be retained as a thoughtful, suggestive--if silent--friend.”
MAINSTONE'S HOUSEKEEPER.
By Miss Eliza Meteyard (Silverpen).
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