"Once let friendship be given that is born of God, nor time nor
circumstance can change it to a lessening; it must be mutual
growth, increasing trust, widening faith, enduring patience,
forgiving love, unselfish ambition and an affection built before
the Throne, which will bear the test of time and trial."
--_Allen Throckmorton._
"It seems to me, Grace, you have been touching up your complexion with
some of the same paint as that in your roses," exclaimed Kate,
playfully, as she inspected Grace rather critically.
"Really, Kate, you must be more careful, or I shall add the sin of
vanity to my other faults," answered Grace, looking out of the window
and smiling pleasantly, with the least touch of absent mindedness in her
manner.
"No danger of that, you dear old Gracious, but if you should say
secretiveness, I might be willing to stop," said Kate, boldly, yet
hardly daring to look toward the window.
Grace did not answer, but continued looking out of the window for
several minutes. "What makes you say that, Kate?" she asked at last,
turning around soberly, while the rosy flush crept up to her temples and
back of her ears.
"Oh, I don't know, Gracious, only it seems to me you are like a pure
white lily bell, and I want to creep into your heart and live in its
fragrance, but--" She stopped abruptly. It seemed as though the almost
imperceptible veil of reserve was falling lower than ever.
Oh, why could she not gain Grace's confidence? These thoughts passed
rapidly through her mind while she stood as if transfixed, waiting for
Grace to break the interminable silence. If she had only known it, Grace
was nearer to her at that moment than ever before, but with her eyes
cast down, she saw not the yearning look on the face of her friend.
Grace spoke at last:
"But what, Kate?" she asked, taking up Kate's words where they had
dropped.
"But the petals will not open, and I am left out," finished Kate,
determined to be frank.
Grace looked out of the window again, and was about to reply, when a rap
at the door startled them both. It was a boy with a note. "Miss Grace
Hall?" he said, handing it to her.
Grace looked at the letter and then at the boy inquiringly. "I am to
wait for an answer," he said.
"Oh," she murmured, in a dazed way, and hastened to find pen and paper
for reply.
"More mystery! I declare, it is getting interesting," thought Kate,
recovering herself, as she furtively watched the rosy face of Grace.
"Any answer?" asked the boy as he took the note.
"No." The door was shut and Grace sat down beside the picture she had
been working upon, but presently arose and began pacing the room. Kate
looked up at her as she passed, but said nothing. She could see that
some deep thought was struggling for utterance, and wondered much.
After a few moments Grace stopped beside her. "I wish I might speak
freely to you, Kathie, but--" she hesitated, "but it has never been
natural for me to be confidential, and--"
She began her promenade again, but presently came back, and drawing her
chair close up to Kate, told her the whole story, with long pauses and
much hesitating speech.
"And now he is in the city; he--wants an answer. He has invited me
to--ride with him--to-morrow."
"Surely, you will not refuse him that privilege?" cried the impetuous
Kate, with visions of a romance unfolding in thrilling chapters before
her very eyes.
"No, of course not," in a low tone, "but how shall I answer him?" The
last was scarcely audible. It seemed almost as though she spoke to
herself. With her forefinger she idly traced some hieroglyphics on her
lap.
"What says your heart, my Lilybell?" asked Kate, softly, as she caressed
the hand that was at liberty.
"'The prisoned bird doth ofttimes sing, but never at the bidding of its
jailer,'" was the low reply, with a faint smile, but tearful eyes.
"Poor Lilybell; she can not bloom before her time. I can wait for her to
open now, for I am close to her throbbing heart. Wait, dear Grace. Let
us sit silently and ask the Father for guidance."
Sweet and solemn moment, when with one accord, they waited for the
Spirit to pour out the full vials of love and wisdom. It was a precious
time of sweet communion, of giving and receiving the best, a
consecration of self to better efforts, higher aims, holier living; a
baptism of strength and peace and lovely thoughts.
Grace had entered upon a new epoch. The past, with its longings and
struggles, its loneliness and bitterness, was already fading into the
background of memory like some dark, ill-favored picture, and in its
place came the present, with its balmy atmosphere and dainty colorings,
promising joy and peace. The morning looked fair. How would be the noon
and eventide?
Ah, no questioning when you ask the Father's guidance! Have you not
asked, dear heart?
Wait till the answer comes. Wait till the soundless message is delivered
into your heart's safe keeping....
The last beams of the setting sun came through the window and bathed
them in its red-gold glory. In her exalted mood, it seemed to Kate like
a heavenly vision. She saw Grace glorified with a divine radiance,
baptized with a new peace. White-winged angels hovered near, like pure
thoughts personified. Every glinting sunbeam seemed a golden shaft of
love.
The glory paled into a mellow twilight. The enchanting picture faded,
but the essence of its beauty changed into a heart-melody of softened
sacred joy. What but music could speak in this hallowed moment?
Kate's very soul would utter itself. She went to the piano as in a
dream. Soft, low notes, faint and sweet, breathed of tender questionings
and tremulous doubts; then a higher, more triumphant strain of victory
swelled the notes that lingered but a moment, ere a tone of sadness and
regret struck the keys, whispering of sacred duty and solemn
responsibility.... Again the music changed. Now peace and joy thrilled
and rippled through the melodious chords....
Dearer than ever was the friendship thus cemented. They had been caught
up to heaven, as it were, and that which had been bound on earth was now
bound in heaven.
"Mystical more than magical, is the communing of soul with soul, both
looking heavenward. Here, properly, soul first speaks with soul; for
only in looking heavenward, take it in what sense you may, not looking
earthward, does what we can call union, mutual love, society, begin to
be possible."
They sat till late into the night, discussing and considering all phases
of life and its problems.
Kate read Mrs. Hayden's letter, which in the agitation and excitement of
the first part of the evening she had quite forgotten. Because of their
deep earnestness they were well prepared to catch the healing mood. This
experience seemed indeed the shower that most opened the blossom of
understanding, and ere they slept, each had taken some poor suffering
mortal into her care as a patient. The blessings they had received were
already being passed to the waiting neighbor.
It is the deep, unselfish God-love that takes the world in its embrace.
To perceive, feel, live the divine Love, is to have broken the old shell
of selfishness, when we may begin to send the tender rootlets of being
into the ready soil of the universe.