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MICHAELIS.
She has laid her heart bare to me.
MRS. BEELER.
That is good. Young people, when they are generous, always lay disaster at their own door.
_She kisses Rhoda. The girl goes into the porch, where she lingers a moment, then disappears. Mrs. Beeler sinks back in her chair again, overtaken by despondency._
Isn't it strange that I should be lying here again, and all those poor people waking up into a new day that is no new day at all, but the old weary day they have known so long? Isn't it strange, and sad?
MICHAELIS.
I ask you not to lose hope.
MRS. BEELER.
_Rousing from her dejection into vague excitement._
You ask me that?--Is there--any hope? Oh, don't deceive me--now! I couldn't bear it now!--Is there any hope?
MICHAELIS.
A half-hour ago I thought there was none. But now I say, have hope.
MRS. BEELER.
_Eagerly._
Do you? Do you? Oh, I wonder--I wonder if that could be the meaning--?
MICHAELIS.
The meaning--?
MRS. BEELER.
Of something I felt, just now, as I sat there in my room by the open window.
MICHAELIS.
What was it?
MRS. BEELER.
I--I don't know how to describe it.--It was like a new sweetness in the air.
_She looks out at the open window, where the spring breeze lightly wafts the curtains._
MICHAELIS.
The lilacs have opened during the night.
MRS. BEELER.
It was not the lilacs.--I get it now again, in this room.
_She looks toward the lilies and shakes her head._
No, it is not the lilies either. If it were anyone else, I should be ashamed to say what I think.
_She draws him down and speaks mysteriously._
It is not real flowers at all!
_Song rises outside--faint and distant._
MICHAELIS.
What is it to you?
MRS. BEELER.
It is like--it is like some kindness in the air, some new-born happiness--or a new hope rising. Now you will think I am--not quite right in my mind, as Mat does, and Martha!
MICHAELIS.
Mrs. Beeler, there is such a perfume about us this beautiful Easter morning. You perceive it, with senses which suffering and a pure soul have made fine beyond the measure of woman. There is a kindness in the air, new-born happiness, and new-risen hope.
MRS. BEELER.
From whose heart does it rise?
MICHAELIS.
From mine, from Rhoda's heart, though she knows it not, from yours, and soon, by G.o.d's mercy, from the heart of this waiting mult.i.tude.
_The song, though still distant, grows louder. Mrs. Beeler turns to Michaelis and gazes intently into his face._
MRS. BEELER.
The light has come into your face again! You are--you are--Oh, my brother, what has come to you?
MICHAELIS.
I have shaken off my burden. Do you shake off yours. What is pain but a kind of selfishness? What is disease but a kind of sin? Lay your suffering and your sickness from you as an out-worn garment. Rise up!
It is Easter morning. One comes, needing you. Rise up and welcome her!
