The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-02-20
(N Out Of q q
u &He Night
CHAPTER XI.
The Mission of the lnsurrection.

CHAPTER Xl.
The Mission of the nsurrecton.
she walked
Wearing the light yoks of that Lord
of love
Who stilled the rolling wave of Gal
lice"
-Tennyson.
+She went in. 1t was just a tin tenn
porary affair it had no age-long ira
dition of prayer to hallow it, But the
moment she was inside there came to
her a sense of change The dropping
of the heavy, thickly lined curtain
behind her had shut her up into a
new world an atmosphere hitherto un-
known to her.
The light was dim.
The window over the altar was only
of what is known as cathedral glass,
the walls were the match-bordered
walls of corrugated iron building:
yet there was an impression of full,
harmonious color. The hangings of
the sanctuary were rich and quiet,
with that opulent glow of hue, bright,
yet profound, which one finds in the
paintings of the Van Eycks An at
tempt had been made to supply the
lack of colored glass in the placing
of various pictures, reproductions of
the works of Benozzo Gozzoli, Ghirlan-
dajo, Fra Angelica and Lippo Lippi.
Before the artar there hung a lamp
in rose-colored glass. There was a
faint scent of incense and of flow
ers. But none of these things was
the first impression received by the
entering girl. 1t was the fact that
there knelt, here and there, three or
four motionless figures of people at
prayer.
They were quite evidently villagers
one old man, two women, no longer
young. They wore their working gar
ments. and they knet, rapt in the
aloofness which filled the place, alb
sorbed in devotion. AS Vernon stood,
very STILL not far from the entrance.
hearing nothing but the long soft tick
of clock upon the wall, measuring
off the thing called time, she felt,
for the first time in her life, that it
might be possible to pass out of time.
beyond it, to reach state in which
time had no importance.
The spectacle of people-ordinar
lay people-praying- one of the
rarest sights in this England of ours.
1t produced upon the girl whose own
morning and evening prayers were
much matter of habit, a sensation
of shame. Why do not | pray more?
she asked herself; and thought of
the forsaken, betrayed girl in the cot
tage opposite, and of the immediate
necessity of interceding for her and
her guiltless babes. sr.
SHe Slpped IN between two rows of |
rush-bottomed dead chairs, and sank
down upon her knees before she had |
reflected upon what she was doing. |
She wanted to pray. And she had |
no idea how to begin,, AS she knelt
with face hiddI In, her cheeks were
crimson with modification. She had
no words in which to address to her
Father the petition which lay close
to her generous young heart
She had a sense of stupefication.
Here was God, ready and waiting
here was she with so much, so much |
to ashland she could not even be-
gin! Her thoughts, undisciplined |
flew hither and thither independent
of her control. And yet she dimly, un-
certainly realized that there was a
power, an intense power, like a rope
which she might grasp, to draw her
self near enough to speak to God,
even if only one sentence She had
the most curious feeling that all her
life she and God had been strangers:
but that, nevertheless, there lay be.
tween them the possibility of won.