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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

Besides he is
too ill to be up."
She led the way, and Donal followed her up the main staircase to the
second floor, and into the small, curious, ancient room, evidently
one of the oldest in the castle, which she had chosen for her
sitting-room. Perhaps if she had lived less in the shadow, she might
have chosen a less gloomy one: the sky was visible only through a
little lane of walls and gables and battlements. But it was very
charming, with its odd nooks and corners, recesses and projections.
It looked an afterthought, the utilization of a space accidentally
defined by rejection, as if every one of its sides were the wall of
a distinct building.
"I do wish, my lady," said Donal, "you would not sit so much where
is so little sunlight! Outer and inner things are in their origin
one; the light of the sun is the natural world-clothing of the
truth, and whoever sits much in the physical dark misses a great
help to understanding the things of the light. If I were your
director," he went on, "I would counsel you to change this room for
one with a broad, fair outlook; so that, when gloomy thoughts hid
God from you, they might have his eternal contradiction in the face
of his heaven and earth."
"It is but fair to tell you," replied Arctura, "that Sophia would
have had me do so; but while I felt about God as she taught me, what
could the fairest sunlight be to me?"
"Yes, what indeed!" returned Donal.


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