LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM Love is the only link that binds us to those gone; the only link that binds us to those who remain.

Surely it _is_ the spiritual world--the abiding kingdom of heaven, not far from any one of us.
On a day of grace, she came of God's grace to me.
One night at the end of October Mrs.Hatton was sitting in the living-room of the Hall.

To say "sitting," however, is barely true, for she was in that irritably anxious mood which both in men and women usually runs into motion, and Mrs.Hatton was more frequently off her chair than on it.

She lifted the brass tongs and put a few pieces of coal on the fire; she walked to the window and looked down the long vista of trees; she arranged chairs and cushions, that did not need arranging; she sent away the large tortoise-shell cat that was watching as eagerly as herself for John's return; and finally her restlessness found a tongue.
"What for are you worrying about the lad, Martha Hatton?
He's grown up, you know, and he isn't worrying about you.

I'll warrant that some way or other he's with that Harlow girl, and where's his poor mother then?
Clean forgotten, of course.