[鬼話連篇] in a life of quiet bliss

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A WONDERFUL CORNER for echoes, it has been remarked, that cornerwhere the Doctor lived. Ever busily winding the golden thread whichbound her husband, and her father, and herself, and her old directressand companion, Lucie sat in the stillhouse in the tranquilly resounding corner, listening to the echoingfootsteps of years HKUE DSE.

At first, there were times, though she was a perfectly happy youngwife, when her work would slowly fall from her hands, and her eyeswould be dimmed. For, there was something coming in the echoes,something light, afar off, and scarcely audible yet, that stirredher heart too much. Fluttering hopes and doubts- hopes, of a love asyet unknown to her: doubts, of her remaining upon earth, to enjoy thatnew delight-divided her breast. Among the echoes then, there wouldarise the sound of footsteps at her own early grave; and thoughts ofthe husband who would be left so desolate, and who would mourn for herso much, swelled to her eyes, and broke like waves.

That time passed, and her little Lucie lay on her bosom. Then, amongthe advancing echoes, there was the tread of her tiny feet and thesound of her prattling words. Let greater echoes resound as theywould, the young mother at the cradle side could always hear thosecoming. They came, and the shady house was sunny with a child's laugh,and the Divine friend of children, to whom in her trouble she hadconfided hers, seemed to take her child in his arms, as He took thechild of old, and made it a sacred joy to her HKUE DSE.

Ever busily winding the golden thread that bound them alltogether, weaving the service of her happy influence through thetissue of all their lives, and making it predominate nowhere, Lucieheard in the echoes of years none but friendly and soothing sounds.Her husband's step was strong and prosperous among them; herfather's firm and equal. Lo, Miss Pross, in harness of string,awakening the echoes, as an unruly charger, whip-corrected, snortingand pawing the earth under the plane-tree in the garden!

Even when there were sounds of sorrow among the rest, they werenot harsh nor cruel. Even when golden hair, like her own, lay in ahalo on a pillow round the worn face of a little boy, and he said,with a radiant smile, "Dear papa and mamma, I am very sorry to leaveyou both, and to leave my pretty sister; but I am called, and I mustgo!" those were not tears all of agony that wetted his youngmother's cheek, as the spirit departed from her embrace that hadbeen entrusted to it. Suffer them and forbid them not. They see myFather's face. O Father, blessed words HKUE DSE!
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