And there was promise in the blue sky, and hope in the soft
sunshine, and sympathy in the sweet rustle of the pine leaves.
Why not? Are they not all God's voices. And the words of the
Book were very precious there, to me and many another. I was
rather more left to myself of late. My governess gave me my
lessons quite as assiduously as ever; but after lesson time
she seemed to have something else to take her attention. She
did not walk often with me, as the spring drew near; and my
Sunday afternoons were absolutely unquestioned.
One day in March, I had gone to my favourite place to get out
a lesson. It was not Sunday afternoon of course. I was tired
with my day's work, or I was not very strong; for though I had
work to do, the witcheries of nature prevailed with me to put
down my book. The scent of pine buds and flowers made the air
sweet to smell, and the spring sun made it delicious to feel.
The light won its way tenderly among the trees, touching the
white marble tombstones behind me, but resting with a more
gentle ray upon the moss and turf where only little bits of
rough board marked the sleeping places of our dependants.
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