and of who would write it; of his own harshness; and also not free
from the awful dread that this was the summons to his son to enter
Eternity with his soul unprepared. At the foot of the bed were the
two doctors, watchful, whispering to each other, one of whom led
the mother out of the room; over by the door the two negro women
and the negro man. Gabriella was not there.

Gabriella had gone once more to where she had been many times: gone
to pour out in secret the prayer of her church, and of her own soul
for the sick--with faith that her prayer would be answered.

A dark hour: a dog howling on the porch below; at the stable the
cries of hungry, neglected animals; the winter hush settling over
the great evening land.




XXII


When one sets out to walk daily across a wood or field in a fresh
direction, starting always at the same point and arriving always at
the same, without intention one makes a path; it may be long first,
but in time the path will come. It commences at the home gate or
bars and reaches forward by degrees; it commences at the opposite
goal and lengthens backward thence: some day the ends meet and we
discover with surprise how slightly we have deviated in all those
crossings and recrossings. The mind has unconsciously marked a path
long before the feet have traced it.