will the will of the Father.
That _has_ in it an element of the purely creative, and then is man
likest God. But simply to do what we ought, is an altogether higher,
diviner, more potent, more creative thing, than to write the grandest
poem, paint the most beautiful picture, carve the mightiest statue,
build the most worshiping temple, dream out the most enchanting
commotion of melody and harmony. If Godfrey could have seen the soul of
the maiden into whose face his discourtesy called the hot blood, he
would have beheld there simply what God made the earth for; as it was,
he saw a shop-girl, to whom in happier circumstances he had shown
kindness, in whom he was now no longer interested. But the sight of his
troubled face called up all the mother in her; a rush of tenderness,
born of gratitude, flooded her heart. He was sad, and she could do
nothing to comfort him! He had been royally good to her, and no return
was in her power. She could not even let him know how she had profited
by his gifts! She could come near him with no ministration! The bond
between them was an eternal one, yet were they separated by a gulf of
unrelation. Not a mountain-range, but a stayless nothingness parted
them. She built many a castle, with walls of gratitude and floors of
service to entertain Godfrey Wardour; but they stood on no foundation
of imagined possibility.

CHAPTER XX.

THE WEDDING-DRESS.

For all her troubles, however, Mary had her pleasures, even in the
shop. It was a delight to receive the friendly greetings of such as had
known and honored her father. She had the pleasure, as real as it was
simple, of pure service, reaping the fruit of the earth in the joy of
the work that was given her to do; there is no true work that does not
carry its reward though there are few that do not drop it and lose it.
She gathered also the pleasure of seeing and talking with people whose
manners and speech were of finer grain and tone than those about her.
When Hesper Mortimer entered the shop, she brought with her delight;
her carriage was like the gait of an ode; her motions were rhythm; and
her speech was music. Her smile was light, and her whole presence an
enchantment to Mary. The reading aloud which Wardour had led her to
practice had taught her much, not only in respect of the delicacies of
speech and utterance, but in the deeper matters of motion, relation,
and harmony. Hesper's clear-cut but not too sharply defined consonants;