She looked at me--and never--in this world--smiled again!--nor cried
either--all I could do to make her!"
The wretched man burst into tears, and the heart of Donal gave a
leap for joy. Common as tears are, fall as they may for the
foolishest things, they may yet be such as to cause joy in paradise.
The man himself may not know why he weeps, and his tears yet
indicate his turning on his road. The earl was as far from a good
man as man well could be; there were millions of spiritual miles
betwixt him and the image of God; he had wept it was hard to say at
what--not at his own cruelty, not at his wife's suffering, not in
pity of the little soul that went away at last out of no human
embrace; himself least of all could have told why he wept; yet was
that weeping some sign of contact between his human soul and the
great human soul of God; it was the beginning of a possible
communion with the Father of all! Surely God saw this, and knew the
heart he had made--saw the flax smoking yet! He who will not let us
out until we have paid the uttermost farthing, rejoices over the
offer of the first golden grain.
Donal dropped on his knees and prayed:--
"O Father of us all!" he said, "in whose hands are these unruly
hearts of ours, we cannot manage ourselves; we ruin our own selves;
but in thee is our help found!"
Prayer went from him; he rose from his knees.
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