Clair's manner of ill will;
or on the other hand giving a passing thought to the question,
how I should dress the next hop night. After a long wandering
I would come back and begin at my Bible again, but only for a
little; my fancy could not be held to it; and a few scarcely
read verses and a few half-uttered petitions were all I had
accomplished before the clangour of the hotel gong sounding
down even to me, warned me that my time was gone. And the note
of the wood-thrush as I slowly mounted the path, struck
reproachfully and rebukingly upon the ear of my conscience.
How had this come about? I mused as I went up the hill. What
was the matter? What had bewitched me? No pleasure in my
Bible; no time for prayer; and only the motion of feet moving
to music, only the flutter of lace and muslin, and the
flashing of hazel eyes, filling my brain? What was wrong? Nay,
something! And why had Mrs. Sandford "feared" I would not go
to the hops? Were they not places for Christians to go to?
What earthly harm? Only pleasure.
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