- end_line
- 1972
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:52.918Z
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- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1908
- text
- BOOK III.
THE PRESENTIMENT AND THE VERIFICATION.
I.
The face, of which Pierre and Lucy so strangely and fearfully hinted,
was not of enchanted air; but its mortal lineaments of mournfulness had
been visibly beheld by Pierre. Nor had it accosted him in any privacy;
or in any lonely byeway; or beneath the white light of the crescent
moon; but in a joyous chamber, bright with candles, and ringing with two
score women's gayest voices. Out of the heart of mirthfulness, this
shadow had come forth to him. Encircled by bandelets of light, it had
still beamed upon him; vaguely historic and prophetic; backward, hinting
of some irrevocable sin; forward, pointing to some inevitable ill. One
of those faces, which now and then appear to man, and without one word
of speech, still reveal glimpses of some fearful gospel. In natural
guise, but lit by supernatural light; palpable to the senses, but
inscrutable to the soul; in their perfectest impression on us, ever
hovering between Tartarean misery and Paradisaic beauty; such faces,
compounded so of hell and heaven, overthrow in us all foregone
persuasions, and make us wondering children in this world again.
The face had accosted Pierre some weeks previous to his ride with Lucy
to the hills beyond Saddle Meadows; and before her arrival for the
summer at the village; moreover it had accosted him in a very common
and homely scene; but this enhanced the wonder.
On some distant business, with a farmer-tenant, he had been absent from
the mansion during the best part of the day, and had but just come home,
early of a pleasant moonlight evening, when Dates delivered a message to
him from his mother, begging him to come for her about half-past seven
that night to Miss Llanyllyn's cottage, in order to accompany her thence
to that of the two Miss Pennies. At the mention of that last name,
Pierre well knew what he must anticipate. Those elderly and truly pious
spinsters, gifted with the most benevolent hearts in the world, and at
mid-age deprived by envious nature of their hearing, seemed to have made
it a maxim of their charitable lives, that since God had not given them
any more the power to hear Christ's gospel preached, they would
therefore thenceforth do what they could toward practicing it.
Wherefore, as a matter of no possible interest to them now, they
abstained from church; and while with prayer-books in their hands the
Rev. Mr. Falsgrave's congregation were engaged in worshiping their God,
according to the divine behest; the two Miss Pennies, with thread and
needle, were hard at work in serving him; making up shirts and gowns for
the poor people of the parish. Pierre had heard that they had recently
been at the trouble of organizing a regular society, among the
neighboring farmers' wives and daughters, to meet twice a month at their
own house (the Miss Pennies) for the purpose of sewing in concert for
the benefit of various settlements of necessitous emigrants, who had
lately pitched their populous shanties further up the river. But though
this enterprise had not been started without previously acquainting Mrs.
Glendinning of it,--for indeed she was much loved and honored by the
pious spinsters,--and their promise of solid assistance from that
gracious manorial lady; yet Pierre had not heard that his mother had
been officially invited to preside, or be at all present at the
semi-monthly meetings; though he supposed, that far from having any
scruples against so doing, she would be very glad to associate that way,
with the good people of the village.
"Now, brother Pierre"--said Mrs. Glendinning, rising from Miss
Llanyllyn's huge cushioned chair--"throw my shawl around me; and
good-evening to Lucy's aunt.--There, we shall be late."
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