‘She was wandering about the streets searching for the twins from noon
till long after dark, Mrs. Grubb—there can be no doubt of it; and she
bears unmistakable signs of having suffered deeply. I have called in a
physician, and we must all abide by his advice.’
‘That’s well enough for the present,’ agreed Mrs. Grubb reluctantly, ‘but
I cannot continue to have my studies broken in upon by these excitements.
I really cannot. I thought I had made an arrangement with Madame
Goldmarker to relieve me, but she has just served me a most unladylike
and deceitful trick, and the outcome of it will be that I shall have to
send Lisa to the asylum. I can get her examined by the commissioners
some time before Christmas, and if they decide she’s imbecile they’ll
take her off my hands. I didn’t want to part with her till the twins got
older, but I’ve just found a possible home for them if I can endure their
actions until New Year’s. Our Army of Present Perfection isn’t
progressing as it ought to, and it’s going to found a colony down in San
Diego County, and advertise for children to bring up in the faith. A
certain number of men and women have agreed to go and start the thing and
I’m sure my sister, if she was alive would be glad to donate her children
to such a splendid enterprise. If the commissioners won’t take Lisa, she
can go to Soul Haven, too—that’s the name of the place;—but no, of course
they wouldn’t want any but bright children, that would grow up and spread
the light.’ (Mary smiled at the thought of the twins engaged in the
occupation of spreading light.) ‘I shall not join the community myself,
though I believe it’s a good thing; but a very different future is
unveiling itself before me’ (her tone was full of mystery here), ‘and
some time, if I can ever pursue my investigations in peace, you will
knock at this door and I shall have vanished! But I shall know of your
visit, and the very sound of your footfall will reach my ear, even if I
am inhabiting some remote mountain fastness!’
* * * * *
When Lisa awoke that night, she heard the crackling of a wood fire on the
hearth; she felt the touch of soft linen under her aching body, and the
pressure of something cool and fragrant on her forehead. Her right hand,
feebly groping the white counterpane, felt a flower in its grasp.
Opening her eyes, she saw the firelight dancing on tinted walls, and an
angel of deliverance sitting by her bedside—a dear familiar woman angel,
whose fair crowned head rose from a cloud of white, and whose sweet
downward gaze held all of benignant motherhood that God could put into
woman’s eyes.
Marm Lisa looked up dumbly and wonderingly at first, but the mind
stirred, thought flowed in upon it, a wave of pain broke over her heart,
and she remembered all; for remembrance, alas, is the price of reason.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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