The Farringdons | Page 5

hymn-sheets, which lay all over the chapel like
snow in Salmon, and which contained special spiritual songs more
stirring in their character than the contents of the Hymn-book; these
hymns the Sunday School children sang by themselves, while the
congregation sat swaying to and fro to the tune. And Elisabeth's soul
was uplifted within her as she listened to the children's voices; for she
felt that mystical hush which--let us hope--comes to us all at some time
or other, when we hide our faces in our mantles and feel that a Presence
is passing by, and is passing by so near to us that we have only to
stretch out our hands in order to touch it. At sundry times and in divers
manners does that wonderful sense of a Personal Touch come to men
and to women. It may be in a wayside Bethel, it may be in one of the
fairest fanes of Christendom, or it may be not in any temple made with
hands: according to the separate natures which God has given to us, so
must we choose the separate ways that will lead us to Him; and as long
as there are different natures there must be various ways. Then let each
of us take the path at the end whereof we see Him standing, always

remembering that wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein;
and never forgetting that--come whence and how they may--whosoever
shall touch but the hem of His garment shall be made perfectly whole.
CHAPTER II
CHRISTOPHER
And when perchance of all perfection You've seen an end, Your
thoughts may turn in my direction To find a friend.
There are two things which are absolutely necessary to the well-being
of the normal feminine mind--namely, one romantic attachment and
one comfortable friendship. Elisabeth was perfectly normal and
extremely feminine; and consequently she provided herself early with
these two aids to happiness.
In those days the object of her romantic attachment was her cousin
Anne. Anne Farringdon was one of those graceful, elegant women who
appear so much deeper than they really are. All her life she had been
inspiring devotion which she was utterly unable to fathom; and this was
still the case with regard to herself and her adoring little worshipper.
People always wondered why Anne Farringdon had never married; and
explained the mystery to their own satisfaction by conjecturing that she
had had a disappointment in her youth, and had been incapable of
loving twice. It never struck them--which was actually the case--that
she had been incapable of loving once; and that her single-blessedness
was due to no unforgotten love-story, but to the unromantic fact that
among her score of lovers she had never found a man for whom she
seriously cared. In a delicate and ladylike fashion she had flirted
outrageously in her time; but she had always broken hearts so gently,
and put away the pieces so daintily, that the owners of these hearts had
never dreamed of resenting the damage she had wrought. She had
refused them with such a world of pathos in her beautiful eyes--the
Farringdon gray-blue eyes, with thick black brows and long black
lashes--that the poor souls had never doubted her sympathy and
comprehension; nor had they the slightest idea that she was totally

ignorant of the depth of the love which she had inspired, or the
bitterness of the pain which she had caused.
All the romance of Elisabeth's nature--and there was a great deal of
it--was lavished upon Anne Farringdon. If Anne smiled, Elisabeth's sky
was cloudless; if Anne sighed, Elisabeth's sky grew gray. The mere
sound of Anne's voice vibrated through the child's whole being; and
every little trifle connected with her cousin became a sacred relic in
Elisabeth's eyes.
Like every Methodist child, Elisabeth was well versed in her Bible; but,
unlike most Methodist children, she regarded it more as a poetical than
an ethical work. When she was only twelve, the sixty-eighth Psalm
thrilled her as with the sound of a trumpet; and she was completely
carried away by the glorious imagery of the Book of Isaiah, even when
she did not in the least understand its meaning. But her favourite book
was the Book of Ruth; for was not Ruth's devotion to Naomi the exact
counterpart of hers to Cousin Anne? And she used to make up long
stories in her own mind about how Cousin Anne should, by some
means, lose all her friends and all her money, and be driven out of
Sedgehill and away from the Osierfield Works; and then how Elisabeth
would say, "Entreat me not to leave thee," and would follow Cousin
Anne to the ends of the earth.
People sometimes smile at the adoration of a young girl for a woman,
and there