  "Is that you, John? because if it is, you can not come in," said Gertrude, opening the door just wide enough for her head to be seen. "I am so miserable, Gertrude." "Poor John! Well, just wait a bit, and I will open the door;" and darting back into the room, Gertrude shuffled away a picture on which she had been painting, and then threw open the door of her studio. "Poor John, what is it?" and Gertrude seated herself on the lounge beside him, and laid her cheek against his, "what is it, John?" "I am so dissatisfied and vexed with myself," said her brother, "I thought I was disinterested and unselfish, and I am not. I have caught myself hoping that Rose's dream might not prove true—that Vincent might never appear, so that I might win her—and she so bound up in him, too! I am a disgrace to my manhood, Gertrude, a poor, miserable, vacillating, unhappy wretch." "No, you are not," said Gertrude, kissing his moist eyelids; "only a great soul would have made the generous confession which has just passed your lips; a "Do not jest with me, Gertrude; comfort me if you can. I too have had my dream; I am about to lose Rose. I can not tell you about it now, it is too painfully vivid. How can I live without love? without Rose's love? Tell me how you learned, Gertrude, to tame down that fiery heart of yours." Gertrude only replied by her caresses; for, in truth, her heart was too full. There is an outward life visible to all; there is an inward life known only to our own souls, and Him who formed them. Was Gertrude's heart "tamed?" Ah, there were moments when she threw aside book, pallet, and pencil, when she could listen only to its troubled, mournful wailings, because there was nothing in all the wide earth, that could satisfy its cravings. Only in the Infinite can such a spirit find rest; and leaning her head upon John's shoulder, Gertrude sang: "Oh, ask thou, hope thou not too much From sympathy below; Few are the hearts whence one same touch Bids the sweet fountains flow: Few, and by still conflicting powers, Forbidden here to meet, Such ties would make this world of ours Too fair for aught so fleet; "But for those bonds all perfect made, Wherein bright spirits blend; Like sister flowers of one sweet shade, With the same breeze that bends. For that full bliss of soul allied Never to mortals given; Oh, lay thy lovely dreams aside, Or lift them up to Heaven!" "You are a good girl, Gertrude," said her brother. "I am no Puritan, but your song has soothed me. There must be something more satisfying in another state of existence than there is in this, else were our very being a mockery." "Poor John; he will arrive at the truth by and by," said Gertrude, as he left the room. "I think it is easier for woman to lean upon an Almighty arm; it is only through disappointment and suffering that man's proud spirit is bowed childlike before the cross. And how, when it gets there, the soul looks wondering back that it should ever have opposed its own poor pride of self to Calvary's meek sufferer!" |
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