Her charity was wide enough
for all. Wherever she could discover gloom, despondency, dulness,
or pain, there she tried to shine like a sunbeam, as if that were
the primal law of her being. She rarely sought to "do good" in the
ordinary acceptance of the term; still more rarely did she speak
of her own personal faith; to cheer and to brighten appeared to
be her one constant impulse. It was evident that this had become
a kind of second nature in her now; but the thought occurred more
than once to Van Berg that she had adopted this course at first
to escape from herself and her own unhappy memories. Every day
increased the conviction that sorrow was the black, heavy soil that
produced this constant bloom of unselfish deeds.
Before the week was over she gave him special reason to believe
that this was true. They were walking up and down the piazza one
evening and had been talking with much animation on a subject of
mutual interest. But she proved that there was in her mind a deeper
and stronger current of thought than that which had been apparent.
As the duskiness increased, and as in their promenade their faces
were turned away from those who might have observed them, she said
a little abruptly and yet with tremulous hesitancy:
"Mr.
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