The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 122, December, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics — John Shaqi
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 122, December, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 20, No. 122, December, 1867: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
To his great surprise, Miss Silence received this communication almost
cheerfully. It seemed more like a relief to her than anything else. Her
one dread in this world was her "responsibility"; and the thought that
she might have to account for ten talents hereafter, instead of one, had
often of late been a positive distress to her. There was also in her
mind a secret disgust at the thought of the hungry creatures who would
swarm round her if she should ever be in a position to bestow patronage.
This had grown upon her as the habits of lonely life gave her more and
more of that fastidious dislike to males in general, as such, which is
not rare in maidens who have seen the roses of more summers than
politeness cares to mention.
Father Pemberton then asked if he could see Miss Myrtle Hazard a few
moments in the library before they went into the parlor, where they were
to meet Mr. Penhallow and Mr. Gridley, for the purpose of receiving the
lawyer's communication.
What change was this which Myrtle had undergone since love had touched
her heart, and her visions of worldly enjoyment had faded before the
thought of sharing and ennobling the life of one who was worthy of her
best affections,--of living for another, and of finding her own noblest
self in that divine office of woman? She had laid aside the bracelet
which she had so long worn as a kind of charm as well as an ornament.
One would have said her features had lost something of that look of
imperious beauty which had added to her resemblance to the dead woman
whose glowing portrait hung upon her wall. And if it could be that,
after so many generations, the blood of her who had died for her faith
could show in her descendant's veins, and the soul of that elect lady of
her race look out from her far-removed offspring's dark eyes, such a
transfusion of the martyr's life and spiritual being might well seem to
manifest itself in Myrtle Hazard.
The large-hearted old man forgot his scholastic theory of human nature
as he looked upon her face. He thought he saw in her the dawning of that
grace which some are born with; which some, like Myrtle, only reach
through many trials and dangers; which some seem to show for a while and
then lose; which too many never reach while they wear the robes of
earth, but which speaks of the kingdom of heaven already begun in the
heart of a child of earth. He told her simply the story of the
occurrences which had brought them together in the old house, with the
message the lawyer was to deliver to its inmates. He wished to prepare
her for what might have been too sudden a surprise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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