Page 31 of The Right Knock


  CHAPTER XXIX.

  "Blessed influence of one true, loving soul on another. Not calculable by algebra, not deductible by logic, but mysterious, effectual, mighty as the hidden process by which the tiny seed is quickened, and bursts forth into tall stem and broad leaf, and glowing tasseled flower."--_George Eliot._

  "Oh dear!" exclaimed Kate as she laid down the letter containing thelesson on Thought. "I didn't know we were so responsible for everylittle thing that comes into our mind."

  "Or goes out of it," said Grace, smiling, as she finished tinting adainty plaque. "Now we can understand that 'where ignorance is bliss,'tis folly to be wise,'" she added rather absent-mindedly.

  "Yes, but I think I prefer the wisdom to the bliss. Do you understandthis lecture as well as the rest?" asked Kate, again glancing at theletter.

  "Why shouldn't we? It is plainly told, and is a natural sequence to theothers. I should think it very helpful, and if there really is so muchpower in thought, it is time people knew it."

  "But what of the people who do not know it? Are they utterlydefenseless?"

  "As long as they believe in the reality of sin, sickness and death, theymust suffer from them," replied Grace, picking a loose hair from herblender.

  "Then they ought to know how to learn and understand these things, but Icould not tell anybody."

  "We can solve any problem by going back and reasoning from the premise.If any shock of sin or sickness come over us, we have simply to rememberthe spiritual, which is the only real creation."

  "It is not so easily done though. To-day I met the most miserablelooking cripple sliding along without any limbs. I held my skirts asideas he passed, and forgot to even think of him as God's child," confessedKate, in a regretful tone.

  "Anything takes time, and we can't expect to leap into perfection atonce, but what did you do after he had passed?" asked Grace, with somecuriosity.

  "I pitied the poor creature and wondered what made him so."

  "That was the very way to keep him in the same condition," said Grace,rapidly mixing some paint. "This last lesson very clearly explains that_every_ thought has an influence, and that you help to make the bodymanifest whatever you think of it. If you think the real and true, youhelp to make that show forth, if you only think of the external orapparent trouble or defect, and regard it as the real, you are harminginstead of helping."

  "I can readily see that we may affect ourselves, but it seems hard tobelieve that we affect _everybody_," protested Kate, incredulously.

  "It is because we cannot realize the law of thought transference. I wasreading just last week about that. An instance of Stuart C. Cumberland'smind-reading was cited. It was wonderful. And then long ago I read anold book written by Cornelius Agrippa about it, but I was not very muchinterested, and did not understand nor believe it at the time, so mymemory is not worth much concerning it."

  "Then you really think I added another weight to that unhappy creature'sburden of trouble?" cried Kate, in sharp surprise.

  "It would be best for you to deny his apparent conditions and affirm hisreal ones, and instead of thoughts of pity, which are only weakening,you could think of happiness and contentment. I truly believe we canlearn to think of people this way, if we only catch ourselves forcorrection every time we think wrong."

  "How shall I ever learn to bridle my thoughts?" was Kate's despairingwail.

  "By learning to bridle your tongue; I found a splendid text to-day onthat very theme. It is in James iii: 2. 'If any man offend not in word,the same is a perfect man, and able to bridle the whole body.'

  "Why, it tells in those few words the substance of all we have learnedin these lessons," exclaimed Kate.

  "Only we would never have had sense enough to understand without thelessons," added Grace, with a smile.

  "They may be likened to a golden key that opens royal gates," said Kate,going to the piano to play while Grace was putting away her paints andbrushes.

  A little later Grace went out to mail a letter. As she turned from thepost-box, she found herself face to face with--whom but LeonCarrington?

  "Ah, an unexpected pleasure, Miss Hall!" he said, extending his hand andwarmly grasping the one she slowly held out to him. He lookedsearchingly into her face, with clear, questioning eyes.

  She dropped her lashes and drew back with a touch of the oldhaughtiness, murmuring something he could not hear.

  "May I have the pleasure of a little walk with you?" he asked, suitinghis step to hers and ignoring her apparent coldness.

  "Certainly. How long since you returned to Hampton, Mr. Carrington?"recovering herself as they walked.

  "Only a few days ago. I was called here on business for my uncle, andwill probably be detained several weeks." He glanced at her as he spoke,but she gave no sign, only remarking it was a lovely season of the yearfor a visit. They walked along, talking only commonplaces, until theyneared her home.

  "Did you receive my letter, Miss Gra--Miss Hall?" he asked, with someunsteadiness in his voice.

  "Yes," she replied, shortly. She did not understand herself any morethan he did, and was vexed to find it so impossible to throw off her oldproud ways, for she really intended to relent enough, at least, to havean explanation, and possibly--her thoughts could never go farther thanthis, and here she was, in the same imperious way, shutting her betterself away from even a fair consideration of duty. These thoughts flashedthrough her mind while she walked on, apparently with the greatestindifference to either his words or his presence. But with a greateffort she compelled herself to say again, with more warmth, "I receivedit, and intended to answer before this, but--" She stopped abruptly.

  He gratefully caught the morsel she had given, and asked if he might notcall the next day.

  "Yes, you may come at three," she said, careful to set a time when Katewould surely be out.

  At the door they parted, and as she went up the stairs, she wonderedmore than ever at her hardness, for almost unconsciously she had givenup all doubts of his honor as a gentleman. What was it all aboutanyway? Nothing but a report that he was engaged to a young lady at thetime he proposed to her, and on the testimony of a single friend, shehad allowed herself to be miserable, and make another miserable, throughthis foolish pride that she _would_ conquer by to-morrow afternoon.

  What! would she compel herself to so utterly ignore her own nature? Sheleaned against the wall half way up the stairway, startled at thisrevelation of herself. She did not know she was capable of such changes,and yet the last two weeks had greatly modified her opinions in manythings.... Why should it not be so? If it were right she could be glad,and she reverently felt that it was right to let the Truth erase allerrors and right all wrongs. To-night she would deny away every fault inher character, especially pride, deny every obstacle to understanding,and then earnestly ask for guidance, and wait till it came, for this wastruly a crisis in her life.

  The next day she received her guest with a perceptibly softened manner.The hour was spent in mutual explanations, and the renewal of a morefriendly relation on her part, much to the satisfaction of Mr.Carrington, whose perseverance was surely worthy this much reward, butGrace would go no further, although she gave him permission to callagain. She must know herself fully before another word on the subjectwere said. Marriage was a vague and solemn theme, something to bepondered over days and nights and months perhaps, she thought, and saidto him.

  Mr. Carrington was a man of earnest aim and high purpose, thoughtful,intellectual and cultured, in every way congenial to her, and she wasglad to accept his friendship. That he had loved her through all hercoldness and neglect, she no longer doubted, which fact was of no smallimport in his chances for her favor. Finding how absolutely false hadbeen the report that had caused her misjudgment, she was anxious toprove herself at least, a friend.

  After he was gone she reviewed the situation. Had she gone too far? No.All was well. She was content. Even if it should end in marriage, formarriage was the highest sym
bol of perfection and--. What the symbolmeant was yet to be revealed, but she already knew that it had aprofound and sacred meaning.

 
Helen Van-Anderson's Novels