Moses sat down and looked around on the old familiar scene; there was the great fireplace where, in their childish days, they had sat together winter nights,—her fair, spiritual face enlivened by the blaze, while she knit and looked thoughtfully into the coals; there she had played checkers, or fox and geese, with him; or studied with him the Latin lessons; or sat by, grave and thoughtful, hemming his toyship sails, while he cut the moulds for his anchors, or tried experiments on pulleys; and in all these years he could not remember one selfish action,—one unlovely word,—and he thought to himself, "I hoped to possess this angel as a mortal wife! God forgive my presumption."
CHAPTER XL
THE MEETING
Sally found Mara sitting in an easy-chair that had been sent to her by the provident love of Miss Emily. It was wheeled in front of her room window, from whence she could look out upon the wide expanse of the ocean. It was a gloriously bright, calm morning, and the water lay clear and still, with scarce a ripple, to the far distant pearly horizon. She seemed to be looking at it in a kind of calm ecstasy, and murmuring the words of a hymn:—
"Nor wreck nor ruin there is seen,
There not a wave of trouble rolls,
But the bright rainbow round the throne
Peals endless peace to all their souls."
Sally came softly behind her on tiptoe to kiss her. "Good-morning, dear, how do you find yourself?"
"Quite well," was the answer.
"Mara, is not there anything you want?"
"There might be many things; but His will is mine."