Oh what a
world--with the light coming through the trees like that, and men to see
it, and make it seen! She wished Karl might see these pictures; she
looked at them with a new intentness,--she would tell Karl all about
them; he would be so glad she had come.
She rose to go. Once more she looked around at the pictures, and to her
eyes there came a dimness, and to her spirit a deep and tender yearning.
There would be joy in having done such work as this. But there were other
things! To work out one's life as bravely and well as one knew how, to do
what seemed best, to be faithful and unfailing to those who were nearest
one, to be willing to lay down one's life for one's love,--perhaps when
the end of the world was reached, and all things translated in terms of
universal things, to have done that would itself mean the painting of a
masterpiece. Perhaps the God of things as they are would see the
unpainted pictures.
CHAPTER XXX
EYES FOR TWO
"This day smells as though it had been made in the country," Karl said,
leaning from the dining room window which Ernestine had thrown wide open
as she rose from the breakfast table.
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