Christian fiction; Wingfold, Thomas (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
The curate's heart trembled a little as he waited for her. He was
not quite sure that it was his business to tell her her duty--yet
something seemed to drive him to it: he could not bear the idea of
her going on in the path of crookedness. It is no easy matter for
one man to tell another his duty in the simplest relations of life;
and here was a man, naturally shy and self-distrustful, daring to
rebuke and instruct a woman, whose presence was mighty upon him, and
whose influence was tenfold heightened by the suffering that
softened her beauty!
She entered, troubled yet stately, doubtful, yet with a kind of
half-trust in her demeanour, white, and blue-eyed, with pained
mouth, and a droop of weariness and suffering in eyelids and neck--a
creature to be worshipped if only for compassion of dignified
distress.
Thomas Wingfold's nature was one more than usually bent towards
helpfulness, but his early history, his lack of friends, of
confidence, of convictions, of stand or aim in life, had hitherto
prevented the outcome of that tendency. But now, like issuing water,
which, having found way, gathers force momently, the pent-up
ministration of his soul was asserting itself. Now that he
understood more of the human heart, and recognised in this and that
human countenance the bars of a cage through which peeped an
imprisoned life, his own heart burned in him with the love of the
helpless; and if there was mingled therein anything of the ambition
of benefaction, anything of the love of power, anything of
self-recommendation, pride of influence, or desire to be a centre of
good, and rule in a small kingdom of the aided and aiding, these
marshy growths had the fairest chance of dying an obscure death; for
the one sun, potent on the wheat for life, and on the tares for
death, is the face of Christ Jesus, and in that presence Wingfold
lived more and more from day to day.
And now came Helen, who, more than anyone whose history he had yet
learned--more perhaps than even her brother, needed such help as he
confidently hoped he knew now where she might find! But when he saw
her stand before him wounded and tearful and proud, regarding his
behaviour in respect of her brother as cruel and heartless; when he
felt in his very soul that she was jealous of his influence, that
she disliked and even despised him; it was only with a strong effort
he avoided assuming a manner correspondent to the idea of himself he
saw reflected in her mind, and submitting himself, as it were, to be
what she judged him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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