"The breakers are coming in," Mr. Southard said presently, in a tone of voice that showed his regretful sense of having been disagreeable. "We shall have a tempest."
They had reached the shore, and stood looking off over the water, The liquid emerald wave they watched came rolling toward them, paused an instant, then rose and flung itself at their feet, rustling away in foam and sliding, silky water, no longer a breaker, but a broken.
"Mr. Southard," Margaret said after a minute, "you know that I would like to be religious, if I knew how; but it doesn't seem possible. I am like one who, in the dark, wanting to get into a house, knocks all about the walls without finding a door. I am trying—in a sort of way—" She hesitated. What would he say if he knew in what way she was trying?
"Give up all," he said; "forget self; and think only of God."
"What you propose to me is not a path, but a pedestal!" she exclaimed, turning from him to go back to the house. "And I am not marble."
He followed her, looking both hurt and annoyed. Outside the door she stopped, and bending toward a little cluster of violets that grew there, shook a warning finger in their innocent blue eyes. "Don't look at me," she said. "You're wicked!"
"Do not give all your kindness to those who think only of your temporal welfare," said the minister hastily, "Remember those also who care for your soul."
"Oh! why should I remember those who do me good for God's sake?" said Miss Hamilton coldly, "Let him reward them; I shall not."
There was no one in the parlor when they went in; but they did not perceive that at first, it was so dim. The sky had darkened rapidly, the clouds rolling up as if self-impelled; for there was scarcely a breath of air stirring. A shadow had swept the sparkle off the water, and all the western view was shrouded in gloom. Southward a single point shone out like a torch amid the surrounding obscurity, a beam of sunlight drop-ping on it through a cleft cloud, and showing in a golden path visible across the heavens. Suddenly, like a torch, it was quenched; and all was darkness.
Mr. Southard stood before an open window, with his hands clasped be-hind him, and his clear eyes lifted heavenward. Margaret heard him repeating lowly, "'Canst thou send lightnings, and will they go, and will they return and say to thee, Here we are?'"