He had no desire to be a
lover, having forbidden himself that hope; but he found it so easy
and pleasant to be a friend that he reproached himself for not
trying it before; and explained his neglect by the fact that
Christie was not an ordinary woman, since none of all the many he
had known and helped, had ever been any thing to him but objects of
pity and protection.
Mrs. Sterling saw these changes with her wise, motherly eyes, but
said nothing; for she influenced others by the silent power of
character. Speaking little, and unusually gifted with the meditative
habits of age, she seemed to live in a more peaceful world than
this. As George MacDonald somewhere says, "Her soul seemed to sit
apart in a sunny little room, safe from dust and noise, serenely
regarding passers-by through the clear muslin curtains of her
window."
Yet, she was neither cold nor careless, stern nor selfish, but ready
to share all the joys and sorrows of those about her; and when
advice was asked she gave it gladly. Christie had won her heart long
ago, and now was as devoted as a daughter to her; lightening her
cares so skilfully that many of them slipped naturally on to the
young shoulders, and left the old lady much time for rest, or the
lighter tasks fitted for feeble hands.
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