The Right Knock

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The Right Knock Page 12

by Helen Van-Anderson


  CHAPTER X.

  "Oh, thou that pinest in the imprisonment of the Actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for a kingdom wherein to rule and create, know this of a truth, the thing thou seekest is already with thee, 'here or nowhere,' couldst thou only see!"--_Carlyle._

  The very next morning the letter was written and the money sent for thenew paper.

  Mrs. Reade came over on one of her bird-like errands, and of course,must hear something of the great help that had come so unexpectedly.

  "How fortunate it came just now, for I have noticed several weeks youhave been losing courage, and as for myself, I don't seem to know whatto do in any case any more," she exclaimed, after hearing a few extractsread from the paper. "Now you will find out who the teacher is and--"

  "I shall go away to take lessons as soon as possible," interrupted Mrs.Hayden. "Yes, I must go," she continued, "and see what there is in it. Ihave already experienced too much physically and spiritually to be ableto give it up."

  "Indeed, you have certainly had as much of a proof as one could wish. IfI could only do as much as you have, I should feel that it would bebetter to go without many other things rather than this."

  Mrs. Reade forgot that she had been able to keep little May in perfecthealth; that she herself had ceased worrying over trifles and learned tomake the best of everything. To her, the change had been so gradualthat she hardly knew in what it consisted. In the meetings held by thefew who were interested she had, unconsciously almost, given manyglimpses of her private efforts and success, which showed how faithfullyshe used what light she had.

  "I wonder what Mrs. Grant would say to this," she resumed, after lookingover the paper. "I think she ought to take this paper, too. Of course, Iexpect to read yours," with an arch smile.

  "As you certainly may, I will let you have this number this afternoon; Ican't spare it yet. You can't imagine the abyss I fell into yesterday.It seemed that I had not only lost the ability to hold myself up, butthe self respect that would help to regain my footing."

  "'It is always darkest before the dawn', they say," quoted Mrs. Reade,merrily, "and now the dawn of our delivery is at hand, we shall knowwhat to do before the twilight comes again. But I came after your jellymold and must not stand here all day talking about things so utterlyunlike--well, good-bye! I can hardly tear myself away when I talk withyou," and she ran out with a gay smile.

  Nearly every week these last few months Mrs. Hayden, Mrs. Reade, Mrs.Grant and occasionally one or two others had met to read and talk on theall-absorbing topic and gain confidence and strength by an exchange ofideas and experiences; but they knew not how to draw from the fountainof knowledge itself, and while they had learned much and gained much,there was a lack which, in the moment of trial, they knew not how tosupply.

  In a few days Mrs. Hayden received the coveted information as to theidentity of the wonderful teacher, and that she was to teach severalclasses in Marlow, only two hundred miles away, which quite set her onfire with impatience to go at once.

  But circumstances were not propitious. There were many details to bearranged, much to be considered. What should be done with the children?Could she afford it? What could she wear? In her eagerness she couldhave overcome every obstacle within an hour, but her better judgmenttold her to be patient a little longer, a decision her husband quiteapproved.

  In the meantime she tried to live more faithfully up to the light shehad received, but the first flush of faith that had brought forth theworks, seemed gone, and she knew not how to bring it back. Not that shewas not just as earnest, not that she had lost a whit of her faith orinterest, but the fire of impulse, unclouded by doubt, had disappeared.She thought about it every leisure moment, but concluded at last to letgo such intense effort that must necessarily be blind, and live more inthe "holy carelessness of the eternal Now," as George MacDonald sobeautifully expressed it in his book she was reading.

  In one respect she fared as comparatively few women do, who hunger afterspiritual things; she had her husband's full sympathy and co-operation.Afterward, when she had seen more of the world and knew more about otherwomen's lives, she realized the value of it, realized that without itshe would have starved before she could have feasted. Oh, the sweetinfluence of a sympathy that unites and harmonizes two natures, nomatter how opposite in character and tendencies.

 

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