Prev | Current Page 256 | Next

Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Friends and Neighbors"

He was not worthy of them; this he
knew. How he loathed himself for his sharp and angry words! He had
it in his heart to tell his sister this, but an overpowering shame
held him back.
"If I only knew how Madge felt towards me," he said many times to
himself, "then I could speak; but I have been such a brute. She can
do nothing else but repulse me;" and this threw around him that
chill reserve which kept Margaret's generous and forgiving heart at
a distance.
Even every-day life has its wonders, and perhaps not one of the
least was that this brother and sister, so long fellow-pilgrims, so
long readers of each other's hearts, should for a little while be
kept asunder by mutual blindness. Yet the hand which is to chase the
mists from their darkened eyes, even now is raised, what though it
be but small? God in his wisdom and mercy will cause its strength to
be sufficient.
When John Greylston gave his niece no answer, she looked intently in
his face and said,
"You will not tell me what you have been thinking about; but I can
guess, Uncle John. I know the reason you did not take Aunt Margaret
to the rock to see the sunset."
"Do you?" he asked, startled from his composure, his face flushing
deeply.
"Yes; for I would not rest until aunty told me the whole story, and
I just came out to talk to you about it.


Pages:
244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268