"Forgive me for supposing you as ignorant as myself. I have seen it--once."
"Appreciated it, I hope, that time?" said Fleda.
"I shall never forget it."
"And it never wrought in you a desire to see it again?"
"I might see many a dawn," said he smiling, "without what I saw then. It was very early--and a cloudy morning, so that night had still almost undisturbed possession of earth and sky; but in the south-eastern quarter, between two clouds, there was a space of fair white promise, hardly making any impression upon the darkness but only set off by it. And upon this one bright spot in earth or heaven, rode the planet of the morning--the sun's forerunner--bright upon the brightness. All else was dusky--except where overhead the clouds had parted again and shewed a faint old moon, glimmering down upon the night it could no longer be said to 'rule'."
"Beautiful!" said Fleda. "There is hardly any time I like so well as the dawn of a winter morning with an old moon in the sky. Summer weather has no beauty like it--in some things."
"Once," continued Mr, Carleton, "I should have seen no more than I have told you--the beauty that every cultivated eye must take in. But now, methought I saw the dayspring that has come upon a longer night--and from out of the midst of it there was the fair face of the morning star looking at me with its sweet reminder and invitation--looking over the world with its aspect of triumphant expectancy;--there was its calm assurance of the coming day,--its promise that the star of hope which now there were only a few watching eyes to see, should presently be followed by the full beams of the Sun of righteousness making the kingdoms of the world his own.--Your memory may bring to you the words that came to mine,--the promise 'to him that overcometh', and the beauty of the lips that made it--the encouragement to 'patient continuance in well-doing', 'till the day break and the shadows flee away.'--And there on the other hand was the substituted light of earth's wisdom and inventions, dominant yet, but waning and soon to be put out for ever."
Fleda was crying again, and perhaps that was the reason why Mr. Carleton was silent for some time. She was very sorry to shew herself so weak, but she could not help it; part of his words had come too close. And when she had recovered again she was absolutely silent too, for they were nearing Sloman-street and she could not take him there with her. She did not know what to say, nor what he would think; and she said not another word till they came to the corner. There she must stop and speak.
"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Carleton," she said drawing her hand from his arm, "for taking care of me all this disagreeable way--I will not give you any more trouble."
"You are not going to dismiss me?" said he looking at her with a countenance of serious anxiety.