Sheldon, with her Dissenting minister's biography open on her lap.
All through that day Valentine Hawkehurst played his part bravely: it was
a hard and bitter part to play--the part of hope and confidence while
unutterable fears were rending his heart. He read the epistle and gospel
of the day to his betrothed; and afterwards some chapters of St.
John--those profoundly mournful chapters that foreshadow the agonising
close. It was Charlotte who selected these chapters, and her lover could
find no excuse for disputing her choice.
It was the first time that they had shared any religious exercise, and
the hearts of both were deeply touched by the thought of this.
"How frivolous all our talk must have been, Valentine, when it seems so
new to us to be reading these beautiful words together?"
Her head was half supported by the pillows, half resting on her lover's
shoulder, and her eyes travelled along the lines as he read, in a calm
low voice, which was unbroken to the end.
Early in the evening Charlotte retired, worn out by the day's physical
weariness, in spite of Valentine's fond companionship. Later, when it was
dusk, Diana came downstairs with the news that the invalid was sleeping
quietly. Mrs. Sheldon was dozing in her arm-chair, the Dissenting
minister having fallen to the ground; and Valentine was leaning, with
folded arms, on the broad window-sill looking out into the shadowy
garden.
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