Page:Lazarus, a tale of the world's great miracle.djvu/58

46 as a proud young ruler (proud in the rectitude of his immaculate life), he had passed her with disdain as she sat at the Virgin's Well and chatted with the passer-by. Wounded and stung by his indifference as she had been, it had yet been the first means of leading her to more serious thoughts. Since then her heart had filled with admiration and respect for this rich young ruler, who could resist the charms—of what she knew herself to be—the most beautiful woman in Jerusalem, and one who for several years had been courted by all the greatest men. Then, from that admiration, had grown an adoring, worshipping, respectful love, the shadow, as it were, of the purified love she now felt for the Saviour; and when, united by the common bond of devotion, they had met at the Lord's feet, she had been content to think that in religious thought, at least, they were as one. But Lazarus had known nothing of what she thought.

It was as if suddenly, with approaching death, a far-seeing second sight had come to him; as if scales had fallen from his eyes, and it were given to him to read the hidden thoughts of men. He said pityingly to the Magdalene, who had thrown herself on her knees beside his couch, and was shedding silent tears behind her hands: "Weep not for me, Mary, weep not for me." Then, while her frame shook with suppressed sobs, he laid his wasted fingers with reverence on her golden tresses, and stroking them tenderly, murmured: "Who knoweth yet what the Lord will do?" Then, when human strength gave way, spiritual weakness seemed to strengthen. "Would I could see the Lord! Would I could see