"Well, what is it?" said Ellen; "I know you have thought of something."
"It is like the fragrance that Christian society sometimes leaves upon the spirit; when it is just what it ought to be."
"My Mr. Marshman!" exclaimed Ellen.
John smiled again. "I thought of him, Ellie. And I thought, also, of Cowper's lines:
'When one who holds communion with the skies
Has filled his urn where those pure waters rise,
Descends and dwells among us meaner things,
It is as if an angel shook his wings!' "
Ellen was silent a moment from pleasure.
"Well, I have got an association now with the daphne!" she said, joyously; and presently added, sighing, "How much you see in everything, that I do not see at all."
"Time, Ellie, said John; "there must be time for that. It will come. Time is cried out upon as a great thief; it is people's own fault. Use him but well, and you will get from his hand more than he will ever take from you."
Ellen's thoughts travelled on a little way from this speech, and then came a sigh, of some burden, as it seemed; and her face was softly laid against the arm she held.
"Let us leave all that to God," said John, gently.