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Dickens, Charles

"The Battle Of Life"

He took the child with him. She called her back
- she bore the lost girl's name - and pressed her to her bosom.
The little creature, being released again, sped after him, and
Grace was left alone.
She knew not what she dreaded, or what hoped; but remained there,
motionless, looking at the porch by which they had disappeared.
Ah! what was that, emerging from its shadow; standing on its
threshold! That figure, with its white garments rustling in the
evening air; its head laid down upon her father's breast, and
pressed against it to his loving heart! O God! was it a vision
that came bursting from the old man's arms, and with a cry, and
with a waving of its hands, and with a wild precipitation of itself
upon her in its boundless love, sank down in her embrace!
'Oh, Marion, Marion! Oh, my sister! Oh, my heart's dear love!
Oh, joy and happiness unutterable, so to meet again!'
It was no dream, no phantom conjured up by hope and fear, but
Marion, sweet Marion! So beautiful, so happy, so unalloyed by care
and trial, so elevated and exalted in her loveliness, that as the
setting sun shone brightly on her upturned face, she might have
been a spirit visiting the earth upon some healing mission.
Clinging to her sister, who had dropped upon a seat and bent down
over her - and smiling through her tears - and kneeling, close
before her, with both arms twining round her, and never turning for
an instant from her face - and with the glory of the setting sun
upon her brow, and with the soft tranquillity of evening gathering
around them - Marion at length broke silence; her voice, so calm,
low, clear, and pleasant, well-tuned to the time.


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