"
Then she paused.
"I remember--WHITE SWANS."
A pause.
"Were they swans?"
"Or ships?"
"They floated down the river to the sea."
She paused.
"And the kind voice beside me said, 'Darling!' Papa never calls me
'darling.'"
"Yes, yes," whispered Hope, almost panting.
"'Darling, we must go with them to some other land, for we are poor.'"
She paused and thought hard. "Poor we must have been; very poor. I can
see that now that I am rich." She paused and thought hard. "But all was
peace and love. There were two of us, yet we seemed one."
Then in a moment Mary left the past, her eyes resigned the film of
thought, and shone with the lustre of her great heart, and she burst at
once into that simple eloquence which no hearer of hers from John Baker
to William Hope ever resisted. "Ah! sweet memories, treasures of the
past, why are you so dim and wavering, and this hard world so clear and
glaring it seems cut out of stone? Oh, if I had a fairy's wand, I'd say,
'Vanish fine house and servants--vanish wealth and luxury and strife; and
you come back to me, sweet hours of peace--and poverty--and love.
Pages:
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311