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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"

Sorrowful we may often have to be, but to indulge in
sorrow is either not to know or to deny God our Saviour. True,
her heart ached for Letty; and the ache immediately laid itself
as close to Letty's ache as it could lie; but that was only the
advance-guard of her army of salvation, the light cavalry of
sympathy: the next division was help; and behind that lay
patience, and strength, and hope, and faith, and joy. This last,
modern teachers, having failed to regard it as a virtue, may well
decline to regard as a duty; but he is a poor Christian indeed in
whom joy has not at least a growing share, and Mary was not a
poor Christian--at least, for the time she had been learning, and
as Christians go in the present aeon of their history. Her whole
nature drew itself together, confronting the destroyer, whatever
he might be, in possession of Letty. How to help she could not
yet tell, but sympathy was already at its work.
"You are not looking your best, Letty," she said, clasping her
again in her arms.
With a little choking, Letty assured her she was quite well, only
rather overcome with the pleasure of seeing her so unexpectedly.
"How is Mr. Helmer?" asked Mary.
"Quite well--and very busy," answered Letty--a little hurriedly,
Mary thought. "--But," she added, in a tone of disappointment,
"you always used to call him Tom!"
"Oh!" answered Mary, with a smile, "one must be careful how one
takes liberties with married people.


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