It is no wonder that the bent shoulders drooped lower and that the
slouched hat was drawn over a face that fain would have hidden itself.
Prudence, his sister Prudence, was speaking to him and he had not heard a
word. How that young fellow in front was rattling on and laughing as
though hearts never ached or broke with aching, and now he was daring
Marjorie to a race, and the fleet-footed girl was in full chase, and the
two who had run their race nearly a quarter of a century before walked on
slowly and seriously with more to think about and bear than they could
find words for.
"I found comfort in that. Shall I tell you?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, "if you can make me understand."
"I think you will understand, but I shall not make you; I shall speak
slowly, for I want to tell you all I thought. The Lord was dead; he
had been crucified and laid away within the sepulchre three days since,
and they who had so loved him and so trusted in his promises were
broken-hearted because of his death. Our Christ has never been dead to
us, John; think what it must have been to them to know him _dead_. 'Let
not your heart be troubled' he said; but their hearts were troubled, and
he knew it; he knew how John's heart was rent, and how he was sorrowing
with the mother he had taken into his own home; he knew how Peter had
wept his bitter tears, how Martha and Mary and Lazarus were grieving for
him, how all were watching, waiting, hoping and yet hardly daring to
hope,--oh, how little our griefs seem to us beside such grief as theirs!
And the third day since he had been taken from them.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233