“You seem well up in the subject of flowers,” said Dr. Parker.
“I study them,” said the young man with a quick intensity which caused the doctor to purse his lips. “I love them so.” He pressed the slender, tiny petals to his lips. “What a wonderful, wonderful thing is that little flower! I weep when I look at it.”
Involuntarily the doctor and the vicar looked at the young man’s face. His eyes had filled with tears.
“Why do you let a harmless little flower affect you in that way?” said Dr. Parker.
“I suppose it’s the joy I feel in its beauty. I love it, I love it!” And he gave back the little flower to the doctor with a kind of rapture.
“Do you feel like that about everything?”
“Oh, yes. I worship the Father in all created things.” The too-sensitive face changed suddenly. A light broke over it. “I am intoxicated with the wonders around me, I am enchanted with the glories of the things I see.”
“It certainly is a very wonderful world that we live in,” said the vicar, who sometimes fell unconsciously into his pulpit voice.
“Think of the continents of divine energy in the very air we breathe.” There was a hush of awe in the voice of John Smith. “Think of the miracles happening under that tiny leaf.”
“They are not visible to me.” Dr. Parker impressively removed his gold-rimmed eyeglasses and rubbed them slowly on a red silk handkerchief.