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Hill, Grace Livingston, 1865-1947

"The Girl from Montana"

She sat beside her
grandmother, and drank in the sermon, and bowed her lovely, reverent head
when she became aware that God was in the room and was being spoken to by
His servant. After the last echo of the recessional had died away, and the
bowed hush of the congregation had grown into a quiet, well-bred commotion
of the putting on of wraps and the low Sabbath greetings, Elizabeth turned
to her grandmother.
"Grandmother, may I please go and ask that man some questions? He said
just what I have been longing and longing to know, and I must ask him
more. Nobody else ever told me these things. Who is he? How does he know
it is all true?"
The elder woman watched the eager, flushed face of the girl; and her heart
throbbed with pride that this beautiful young thing belonged to her. She
smiled indulgently.
"The rector, you mean? Why, I'll invite him to dinner if you wish to talk
with him. It's perfectly proper that a young girl should understand about
religion. It has a most refining influence, and the Doctor is a charming
man. I'll invite his wife and daughter too. They move in the best circles,
and I have been meaning to ask them for a long time. You might like to be
confirmed. Some do. It's a very pretty service. I was confirmed myself
when I was about your age. My mother thought it a good thing for a girl
before she went into society. Now, just as you are a schoolgirl, is the
proper time. I'll send for him this week.


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