God's Good Man - Marie Corelli (i want to read a book .txt) đ
- Author: Marie Corelli
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John started violently. What was the old man talking about? He felt that he must immediately put a stop to any chance of indecorous garrulity.
âNo, you never told me anything about it, Josey,ââhe said, hastily,ââan Iâve no time just now to stay and listen. Iâm off on a visit for two or three daysâyou wonât see me again till Sunday.â
Josey drew his pipe slowly out of his mouth.
âGoinâ away, Passon, are ye?â he said in quavering accents of surpriseââAinât that a bit strange like?â
âWhy yes, I suppose it is,ââsaid John, half laughingââI never do go away I knowâbut---â
âLook âere Passon! Speak frank anâ fair!âthere baint nothinâ drivinâ ye away, be there?â
The hot colour sprang to Waldenâs brows.
âWhy no, Josey!âof course not! How can you think of such a thing?â
Josey stooped and patted Ipsieâs flaxen tangle of curls softly. Then he straightened himself and looked fully into Johnâs face.
âWell I dunno how âtis, Passon,ââhe said, slowlyââWhen the body gets old anâ feels the fallinâ oâ the dark shadder, the soul begins to feel young, anâ sees all at once the light a-cominâ which makes all things clear. See this little child playinâ wiâ me?âwell, she donât think oâ me as an old worn man, but as somethinâ young like herselfâanâ for why? Because she sees the soul oâ me,âthe eyes oâ the children see souls moreân bodies, if ye leave âem alone anâ donât worrit âem wiâ worldly talk. Anâ itâs MY soul wot sees moreân my bodyâanâ thatâs why I sez to ye, Passon, that if so be youâve any trouble donât run away from it! Stay anâ fight it outâitâs the onny way!âfight it out!â
Walden was for a moment taken aback. Then he answered steadily.
âYouâre right, Josey! If I had any trouble I should stay and as you say, fight it out;âbut Iâve none, Josey!ânone in the world! I am as happy as I can be,âfar happier than I deserve,âand Iâm only going away to see my old friend Bishop Brentâyou rememberâthe Bishop who consecrated the church seven years ago?ââJosey nodded comprehensively, âHe lives, as you know, quite a hundred miles from hereâbut I shall be in my usual place on Sunday.â
âPlease God, you will!â said Josey, devoutlyââAnd please God, so shall I. But thereâs never no knowinâ what may âappen in a day or two days---â
Here Ipsie gave vent to a yell of delight. She had been groping among the flowers in the cottage border, and now held up a deep red rose, darkly glowing at its centre.
âWed wose!â she announced, screaminglyââWedâall wed! For Passon! Passon, tiss it!â
John still leaning on the gate, reached down and took the flower, kissing it as he was told, with lips that trembled on the velvet leaves. It was one of the âold French damaskâ rosesâand its rich scent, so soft and full of inexplicable fine delicacy, affected him strangely.
ââAve ye heard as âow Miss Marylliaâs goinâ to marry that fine genâleman wotâs at Badsworth?â pursued Josey, presently, beginning to chuckle as he asked the questionââRoxmouth, they calls him;â Lord, Lord, what clicketinâ talk, like all the grass-âoppers out for a fairinâ! She ainât goinâ to marry no Roxmouths, bless âer âart!â sheâs goinâ to stick to the old âome anâ people, and never leave âem no more! I knows her mind! She tells old Josey wot she donât tell nobody else, you bet she do!â
John Walden tried not to look interested.
âMiss Vancourt will no doubt marry some day,ââhe said, somewhat lamely.
âAv coorse she will!ââreturned JoseyââWhen Mr. Right comes along, sheâll know âim fast enough! Them blue eyes ainât goinâ to be deceived, I tell ye! But she ainât goinâ to be no Duchess as they sez,âitâs my âpinion plain Missis is good ânough for the Squireâs gel, if so be a lovinâ anâ true Mister was to ax âer and sayââWill âee be my purty little wife, anâ warm my cold âart all the days oâ my life?ââanâ thereâd be no wantinâ dukes nor lords round when thereâs real love drivinâ a man anâ woman into each otherâs arms! LordâLord, donât I know it! Seems but tâother day I was a fine man oâ thirty odd, anâ walkinâ under the hawthorns all white wiâ bloom, anâ my wife that was to be strollinâ shy like at my sideâwe was kind oâ skeered oâ one another, courtinâ without knowinâ we was courtinâ ezackly, anâ she âad a little blue print gown on anâ a white linen sunbonnetâI kin see âer as clear anâ plain as I see you, Passon!âanâ she looks up anâ she sezââAinât it a lovely day, Joe?â Anâ I sezââYes, itâs lovely, anâ youâre lovely too!â Anâ my âart gave a great dump agin my breast, anâ âfore I knowed it I âad âer in my arms a-kissinâ âer for all I was worth! Ay, that was soâ anâ I never regretted them kisses under the may-trees, I tell ye! Anâ thatâs whatâll âappen to Squireâs gelâsome good man âull walk by âer side one oâ these days, anâ wonât know wot heâs a-doinâ of nor she neither, anâ love âull just come down anâ settle in their âarts like a broodinâ dove oâ the âOly Spirit, not speakinâ blasPHEmous, Passon, I do assure ye! For if Love ainât a âOly Spirit, then there ainât no Lord God in the âLove one another!â I sez âtis a âOly Spirit wot draws fond âarts together anâ makes âem beat trueâand the âOly Spirit âull fall on Squireâs gel in its own time anâ bring a blessinâ with it. Thatâs wot I sez,âare ye goinâ, Passon?â
âYesâIâm going,â said John in an uncertain voice, while Ipsie stared up at him in sudden enquiring wonder, perhaps because he looked so pale, and because the hand in which he held the rose she had given him trembled slightlyââIâve a number of things to do, Joseyâotherwise I should love to stop and hear you talkâyou know I should!â and he smiled kindlyââFor you are quite right, Josey! You have faith in the beautiful and the true, and so have I! I believeâ yesâI believe that everythingâeven a great sorrowâis for the best. We cannot see,âwe do not knowâbut we should trust the Divine mind of God enough to feel that all is, all must be well!â
âThatâs so, Passon!â said Josey, with grave heartinessââStick to that, anâ weâre all right. God bless ye! Iâll see ye Sunday if I ainât gone to glory!â
Walden pulled open the garden gate to shake hands with the old man, and to kiss Ipsie who, as he lifted her up in his arms, caressed his cheeks with her two dumpy hands.
âHas âoo seen my lady-love?â she asked, in a crooning whisperââMy bootiful white lady-love?â
Walden looked at Josey perplexedly.
âShe means Miss Maryllia,ââsaid the old manââThatâs the name sheâs given âerâlady-loveâthe thinkinâ little imp she is! Whereâs lady- love? Why sheâs in âer own houseâshe donât want any little tags oâ babbies runninâ round âerâyour lady-loveâs got somethinâ else to do.â
âShe AINâT!â said Ipsie, with dramatic emphasisââShe tums anâ sees me oftenââoo donât know nuffinâ âbout it! HAS âoo seen âer?â she asked Walden again, taking hold of one end of his moustache very tenderly.
He patted the little chubby arm.
âI saw her the other night,ââhe said, a sudden rush of words coming to his lips in answer to the childâs queryââYes, Ipsie,âI saw her! She was all in white, as a lady-love should beâonly there were little flushes of pink on her dress like the sunset on a cloudâand she had diamonds in her hair,ââHere Ipsie sighed a profound sigh of comfortable ecstasyââand she looked very sweet and beautifulâandâ andââHere he suddenly paused. Josey Letherbarrow was looking at him with sudden interest. âAnd thatâs all, Ipsie!â
âDidnât she say nuffinâ âbout me?â asked the small autocrat.
Walden set her gently down on the ground.
âNot then, Ipsie,ââhe saidââShe was very busy. But I am sure she thought of you!â
Ipsie looked quite contented.
ââEss,âmy lady-love finks a lot, oh, a lot of me!â she said, seriouslyââAllus finkinâ of me!â
John smiled, and again shook old Joseyâs hand.
âGood-bye till Sunday!â he said.
âGood-bye, Passon!â rejoined Josey, cheerilyââGood luck tâye! God bless ye!â
And the old man watched Johnâs tall, slim athletic figure as long as his failing sight could follow it, murmuring to himselfâ
âWhoâd a thought it!âwhoâd âa thought it! Yet mebbe Iâm wrongâanâ mebbe Iâm right!âfor the look oâ love never lightens a manâs eyes like that but once in his lifeâall the rest oâ the sparkles is only imitations oâ the real fire. The real fire burns once, anâ only onceâanâ itâs fierce anâ hot when it kindles up in a man after the days oâ his youth are gone! Anâ if the real fire wornât in Passonâs eyes when he talked oâ the lady-love, than Iâm an old idgit wot never felt my heart go dunt again my side in courtinâ time!â
Walden meanwhile went on his round of visits, and presently,âthe circle of his poorer parishioners being completed,-he decided to call on Julian Adderley at his âcottage in the woodâ and tell him also of his intended absence. He had taken rather a liking to this eccentric off-shoot of an eccentric literary set,âhe had found that despite some slight surface affectations, Julian had very straight principles, and loyal ideas of friendship, and that he was not without a certain poetic talent which, if he studied hard and to serious purpose, might develop into something of more or less worthiness. Some lines that he had recently written and read aloud to Walden, had a haunting ring which clung to the memory:
Art thou afraid to live, my Heart? Look round and see What life at its best, With its strange unrest, Can mean for thee! Ceaseless sorrow and toil, Waits for each son of the soil; And the highest work seems ever unpaid By God and man, In the mystic plan;â Think of it! Art thou afraid? Art thou afraid to love, my Heart? Look well and see If any sweet thing, That can sigh or sing, Hath need of thee! Of Love cometh wild desire, Hungry and fierce as fire, In the souls of man and maid,â But the fulness thereof Is the end of love,â Think of it! Art thou afraid? Art thou afraid of Death, my Heart? Look down and see What the corpse on the bed, So lately dead, Can teach to thee! Is it the close of the strife, Or a new beginning of Life? The secret is not betrayed;â
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