“Then Manoah entreated the Lord and said, O my Lord, let the man of God which thou didst send come again unto us, and teach us what we shall do unto the child.
“And God hearkened to the voice of Manoah; and the angel of God came again unto the woman.
“And the woman made haste, and ran, and shewed her husband.
“And Manoah arose, and went after his wife and came to the man.
“And Manoah said, Now let thy words come to pass. How shall we order the child, and how shall we do unto him?
“And the angel of the Lord said unto Manoah, Of all that I said unto the woman let her beware.
“So Manoah took a kid with a meat offering, and offered it upon a rock unto the Lord: and the angel did wondrously; and Manoah and his wife looked on.
“For it came to pass, when the flame went up toward heaven from off the altar, that the angel of the Lord ascended in the flame of the altar: and Manoah and his wife looked on it, and fell on their faces to the ground.”
And as Rizpah read, little by little, the truth and beauty of the scene and its words dawned upon her. Thus she meditated: “This is the way God brought forth His giant deliverer, Samson; God appeared to the woman first, but she hasted to tell of the promised blessing to her husband.” When she thought of how that angel-led wife led her husband, she remembered her own fanatical bitterness and was condemned. Then she remembered how Manoah and his wife, together, asked how they should order their child and how, as together they bowed before the Spirit, he ascended in glory over them. “Oh,” she moaned within herself, “if we had only put aside our differences and, forgetting all else, just so sought together the Divine directings!” It was evening as she meditated, and she said within herself: “If ever I can get nigh Sir Charleroy’s heart I’ll tell him all this, and before the altar of a new consecration we’ll give ourselves and ours to God, just this way.” There came a wondrous joy to her heart and the palms that seemed to moan rebukingly without that other night, “Abbaroy, Abbaroy, I want my Abbaroy,” this night reminded her some way vaguely of the beating of mighty wings, approaching nearer and nearer. She felt no longer rage, as she thought about the often bepraised Mary of her husband, but on the other hand, wished she knew more about her, were more like her. It was the woman in her, yearning for a mother.