At last she said slowly:
"I wonder if it will be possible for a Divine love gradually to
supplant a human love? 'Whom to know is eternal life.' This hope
seems to be my only hope--my only remedy, my one chance. I must
soon go back to the city, where I cannot see good old Mr. Eltinge,
where I will no longer have the excitement of occasionally meeting
Mr. Van Berg, where I shall be fact to face with only the hard,
prosaic difficulties that will abound in the world without, but
especially in my own home. I plainly foresee that I shall become
bitter, selfish, and reckless again, unless I find such a Friend
as Mr. Eltinge describes, who will give me daily and positive help;
a mere decorous, formal religion will be of no more use to me than
pictures of bread to the famishing. I must have a strong, patient
Friend who will see me through my troubles, or I'm lost. I may
even grow as desperate and wicked as I have been again," and she
buried her face in her hands and fairly trembled with apprehension.
"Come, my child, cheer up! All will end well yet. Take an old man's
word for it. I've lived through several troubles that I thought
would finish me, thanks to the good Lord, and here I am now, safe
and sound and in the possession of two good homes--this one and
the better one over the river they say is so dark.
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