He had been mistaken--nobody was there; nevertheless,
seeking to divert his mind, he continued perusing the inscriptions, at
first in a mechanical kind of way, and then, little by little, feeling a
fresh emotion steal over him.
The sight was almost beyond imagination. Faith, love, and gratitude
displayed themselves in a hundred, a thousand ways on these marble slabs
with gilded lettering. Some of the inscriptions were so artless as to
provoke a smile. A colonel had sent a sculptured representation of his
foot with the words: "Thou hast preserved it; grant that it may serve
Thee." Farther on you read the line: "May Her protection extend to the
glass trade." And then, by the frankness of certain expressions of
thanks, you realised of what a strange character the appeals had been.
"To Mary the Immaculate," ran one inscription, "from a father of a
family, in recognition of health restored, a lawsuit won, and advancement
gained." However, the memory of these instances faded away amidst the
chorus of soaring, fervent cries.
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