"
How could I, if I was going no more to the hops? How could I
see Thorold, or anybody? The thought struck to my heart, and I
made no answer. Company, however, kept me from considering the
matter all the evening.
But the next day, early, I was in my usual place; near the
river side, among the rocks, with my Bible; and I resolved to
settle the question there as it ought to be settled. I was
resolved; but to do what I had resolved, was difficult. For I
wanted to go to the hop that evening very much. Visions of it
floated before me; snatches of music and gleams of light;
figures moving in harmony; words, and looks; and — my own
white little person. All these made a kind of quaint mosaic
with flashes of light on the river, and broad warm bands of
sunshine on the hills, and the foliage of trees and bushes,
and the grey lichened rocks at my foot. It was confusing; but
I turned over the leaves of my Bible to see if I could find
some undoubted direction as to what I ought to do, or perhaps
rather some clear permission for what I wished to do.
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