"
Then she lifted her face and looked at him, and it was easy to see that
Love and the man had met. Never before in all his life had she seen him
so beautiful--his broad, white forehead, his bright contemplative eyes,
his sweet, loving, thoughtful face breaking into kind smiles, his gentle
manner, and his scrupulously refined dress made a picture of manhood
that appealed to her first, as a mother, and secondly, as a woman. And
in her heart an instantaneous change took place. She put her hands on
his shoulders and lifted her face for his kiss.
"My good son!" she said. "Thy love is my love, and thy joy is my joy!
Sit thee down, John, and tell me all about it."
So they sat down together on the bright hearth, sat down so close that
John could feel the constant touch of his mother's hand--that white,
firm hand which had guided and comforted him all his life long.
"Mother," he said, "if anyone had told me this morning that I should be
Jane's betrothed husband before I slept this night, I would hardly have
believed in the possibility.
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