The letter from Miss Millington was perhaps the finishing stroke. I think the sudden call here, with full occupation for mind and body at first, was sent mercifully,—and then the wonderful holy calm of those three weeks in my own room, alone, and yet not alone!
Albinia could scarcely ever leave her husband: and the maids only came and went. I was not so severely ill as to need constant attendance. The doctor ordered little beyond rest and stillness. Now I have been about again for nearly a fortnight, regaining strength: but the sweetness of that "quiet time" overshadows me yet.
For I think our Lord Himself led me aside into one of His own green pastures, that He might comfort me. And He did it there, as none but He can do,—with Voice and Touch and Smile, with Divine healing and most Human sympathy.
How can any question the good of pain and sorrow in this life?
For no joy could ever have shown me what He is, like these past weeks. And only the extremest stress of need and weariness will ever drive us so to abandon our whole weight upon Him, as to learn fully the rest of His upholding Arms.
June 16. Wednesday.—Plans seem now arranged. I do not return to Glynde, but remain here till early next week. The Romillys propose travelling up to Town on Monday: and on Tuesday we all proceed to Beckdale.
Mrs. Romilly writes that Lady Denham and Sir Keith will be at the Farm. I cannot help expecting something to come about soon.
June 19. Saturday.—This afternoon I went for a stroll in The Park, avoiding as far as possible the crowded parts, and getting into a comparatively neglected side-path. It was pleasantly sunny, with a fresh breeze. One might escape in some measure from the stream of human beings, but there was no escaping from the stream of human sound. I caught myself smiling at the thought of those lovely Yorkshire dales, so soon to surround me! No roar of voices and vehicles there, but only the rustle of leaves, and the rush of torrents. And then I think I wandered off to Thyrza, walking slowly with downward-bent eyes, perhaps speculating on her future.
Something made me glance up. I found myself in a sheltered spot, divided by shrubs from the nearest groups of people. One seat was quite near, and on this seat was one young girl.
My first impression was of the utter misery in her look and attitude. She sat leaning forward, with bent head, rounded shoulders, tightly-clasped hands, and wide-open fixed eyes. There were no tears, only a hard gaze of extreme wretchedness, which was even more strongly expressed in the droop of her lower lip.