Animation crept into his eyes.

It was the slight, subtle touch that a woman knows how to bestow.
"Yes, I'm writing a sermon, Sally, for next Sunday--Easter Sunday--listen to this--" In the pride of composition, having none but her who would appreciate his efforts, he took up one of the papers with almost trembling hands.
"There can be no hope without promise, and in the rising of our Lord from the dead, we have the promise of everlasting life.

For just as He, on that Sabbath morning, defied the prison walls of the sepulchre, and was lifted beyond earthly things to those things that are spiritual, so shall we, if we defy the things of this world--its pomps and its vanities and all the sinful lusts of the flesh--so shall we win to the things that are eternal rather than those which are temporal and void." He looked up at her, waiting eagerly for the words of her approval to convince him of what he was scarcely convinced himself.

Before she could utter them, Mrs.Bishop entered the room.
"Samuel," she said, "I've written my letter to Lady Bray.

I've asked her to come on the seventeenth.