A Light Shines on My Way

           TheyearcameroundtoChristmas-time,andIhadbeenathomeabovetwomonths.IhadseenAgnesfrequently.Howeverloudthegeneralvoicemightbeingivingmeencouragement,andhoweverferventtheemotionsandendeavourstowhichitrousedme,IheardherlightestwordofpraiseasIheardnothingelse.

           Atleastonceaweek,andsometimesoftener,Irodeoverthere,andpassedtheevening.Iusuallyrodebackatnight;fortheoldunhappysensewasalwayshoveringaboutmenowmostsorrowfullywhenIleftherandIwasgladtobeupandout,ratherthanwanderingoverthepastinwearywakefulnessormiserabledreams.Iworeawaythelongestpartofmanywildsadnights,inthoserides;reviving,asIwent,thethoughtsthathadoccupiedmeinmylongabsence.

           Or,ifIweretosayratherthatIlistenedtotheechoesofthosethoughts,Ishouldbetterexpressthetruth.Theyspoketomefromafaroff.Ihadputthematadistance,andacceptedmyinevitableplace.WhenIreadtoAgneswhatIwrote;whenIsawherlisteningface;movedhertosmilesortears;andheardhercordialvoicesoearnestontheshadowyeventsofthatimaginativeworldinwhichIlived;Ithoughtwhatafateminemighthavebeenbutonlythoughtso,asIhadthoughtafterIwasmarriedtoDora,whatIcouldhavewishedmywifetobe.

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