It was only for an instant. Then, glancing about for a seat, he
saw another face--a face, in its outlines, so like the one into which he
had just looked, and yet so different--so far removed in its expression
and meaning--that it fixed his attention instantly--compelling his
interest.
As this woman sat looking from the car window away toward the distant
mountain peaks, the young man thought he had never seen a more perfect
profile; nor a countenance that expressed such a beautiful blending of
wistful longing, of patient fortitude, and saintly resignation. It was the
face of a Madonna,--but a Madonna after the crucifixion,--pathetic in its
lonely sorrow, inspiring in its spiritual strength, and holy in its purity
and freedom from earthly passions.
She was near his mother's age; and looking at her--as he moved down the
aisle--his mother's face, as he had known it before their last meeting,
came to him with startling vividness. For an instant, he paused, moved to
take the chair beside her; but the next two seats were vacant, and he had
no excuse for intruding. Arranging his grips, he quickly seated himself
next to the window; and again, with eager interest, turned toward the
woman in the chair ahead.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35