The big
edifice was empty, and smelled of damp plaster, rain rattled the high
windows. The afternoon was so dark that the sanctuary light sent a
little pool of quivering red to the floor below.
After a while a very plain young woman came out of the vestry, and
walking up the steps to the main altar, carried away one of the great
candlesticks. She was presently joined by a little nun; the two
whispered unsmilingly together, came and went fifty times with flowers,
with candles, with fresh altar linen.
Julia could not pray. Her thoughts would not settle themselves; they
drifted back and forth like rippling breezes over grass. She felt that
if she might kneel here an hour she could begin to pray. Now a thousand
little things distracted her: the odour of the church, the crisping feet
of some one entering the church far behind her, the odour of the damp
glove upon which she rested her cheek.
Life troubled her; she was afraid. She had thought it lay plain and
straight before her; now all her guide posts were gone, and all her
pathways led into deeper and deeper uncertainty. The utter confusion
into which she had been thrown made even her own identity indefinite to
her; she suffered less for this bewilderment.
Pages:
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488