Something else was sometimes to be watched. Martyn, all this time,
was doing the work of two curates, and was to be seen walking home
with Anne from church or school, carrying her baskets and bags, and,
as we were given to understand, discussing by turns ecclesiastical
questions, visionary sisterhoods, and naughty children. At first I
wished it were possible to remove Clarence from the perpetual
spectacle, but we had one last talk over the matter, and this was
quite satisfactory.
'It does me no harm,' he said; 'I like to see it. Yes, it is quite
true that I do. What was personal and selfish in my fancies seems
to have been worn out in the great lull of my senses under the
shadow of death; and now I can revert with real joy and thankfulness
to the old delight of looking on our dear Ellen as our sister, and
watch those two children as we used when they talked of dolls'
fenders instead of the surplice war. I have got you, Edward; and
you know there is a love "passing the love of women."'
A lively young couple passed by the window just then, and with
untamed voices observed -
'There are those two poor miserable objects! It is enough to make
one melancholy only to look at them.'
Whereat we simultaneously burst out laughing; perhaps because a
choking, very far from misery, was in our throats.
At any rate, Clarence was prepared to be the cordial, fatherly
brother, when Martyn came headlong in upon us with the tidings that
utterly indescribable, unimaginable joy had befallen him.
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