"
"But just think how well we would if we went away together for a
month! And I've saved for a rainy day--look at it--"
"She is unbalanced," thought Mrs. Arbuthnot; yet she felt
strangely stirred.
"Think of getting away for a whole month--from everything--to
heaven--"
"She shouldn't say things like that," thought Mrs. Arbuthnot. "The
vicar--" Yet she felt strangely stirred. It would indeed be wonderful
to have a rest, a cessation.
Habit, however, steadied her again; and years of intercourse with
the poor made her say, with the slight though sympathetic superiority
of the explainer, "But then, you see, heaven isn't somewhere else. It
is here and now. We are told so."
She became very earnest, just as she did when trying patiently to
help and enlighten the poor. "Heaven is within us," she said in her
gentle low voice. "We are told that on the very highest authority.
And you know the lines about the kindred points, don't you--"
"Oh yes, I know them," interrupted Mrs. Wilkins impatiently.
"The kindred points of heaven and home," continued Mrs.
Arbuthnot, who was used to finishing her sentences. "Heaven is in our
home."
"It isn't," said Mrs. Wilkins, again surprisingly.
Mrs. Arbuthnot was taken aback. Then she said gently, "Oh, but
it is.
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