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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"

The fellow is as
good as a dog, and that's saying not a little for him. I wonder if
he can learn--or if he takes after his father the marquis, who never
could spell. Well, it is a comfort to have something to do worth
doing. I did think of endowing a hospital; but I'm not sure that it
isn't better to endow a good man than a hospital. I'll think about
it. I won't say anything about Shargar either, till I see how he
goes on. I might give him a job, though, now and then. But where
to fall in with him--prowling about after jobs?'
He threw himself back in his seat, and laughed with a delight he had
rarely felt. He was a providence watching over the boys, who
expected nothing of him beyond advice for Ericson! Might there not
be a Providence that equally transcended the vision of men, shaping
to nobler ends the blocked-out designs of their rough-hewn marbles?
His thoughts wandered back to his friend the Brahmin, who died
longing for that absorption into deity which had been the dream of
his life: might not the Brahmin find the grand idea shaped to yet
finer issues than his aspiration had dared contemplate?--might he
not inherit in the purification of his will such an absorption as
should intensify his personality?


CHAPTER IX.
A HUMAN SOUL.
Ericson lay for several weeks, during which time Robert and Shargar
were his only nurses. They contrived, by abridging both rest and
labour, to give him constant attendance.


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