The minister was swept along in the resistless current of the
prayer, and listened as if he were the penitent and she the priest. As
the petition died away in Agnes's physical exhaustion, the venerable man
thought to himself:
"When Jacob wrestled all night at Peniel, his angel must have been a
woman like this; for she has power with God and with men!"
CHAPTER VII.
FOCUS.
Calvin Van de Lear had been up-stairs with Duff Salter, and on his way
out had heard the voice of Agnes Wilt praying. He slipped into the back
parlor and listened at the crevice of the folding-door until his father
had given the pastoral benediction and departed. Then with cool
effrontery Calvin walked into the front parlor, where Agnes was sitting
by the slats of the nearly darkened window.
"Pardon me, Agnes," he said. "I was calling on the deaf old gentleman
up-stairs, and perceiving that devotions were being conducted here,
stopped that I might not interrupt them."
Calvin's commonplace nature had hardly been dazed by Agnes's prayer. He
was only confirmed in the idea that she was a woman of genius, and would
take half the work of a pastor off his hands. In the light of both
desire and convenience she had, therefore, appreciated in his eyes.
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