Here was no outward disturbance, no claim from the world, no
importunate chatter, only religious services in their quietest, most
unobtrusive form; and Dr. Easterby's low tender tones, leading his
silent listeners to deep heart-searchings, earnest thoughts, and
steadfast resolutions.
Ah! so no doubt it was with many; but Lena, with book and pen, was
dismayed to find that the one thing she recollected was the
question, "Friend, how camest thou in hither?" After that, she had
only heard her own thoughts. Her mind had lapsed into one vague
apprehension of the effects of having cut off all communication with
home, imaginings of Frank's despair, relentings of pity, all broken
by dismay at her own involuntary hypocrisy in bringing such thoughts
into the Retreat. Had she any right to be there at all? Was not a
thing that should have been for her peace become to her an occasion
of falling?
It was Thursday evening, and on the morrow there would be the
opportunity of private interviews with Dr. Easterby. She longed for
the moment, chiefly to free herself from the sense of deception that
had all this time seemed to vitiate her religious exercises, deafen
her ears, and blow aside her prayers.
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