It fell about her now like a sunset cloud.
She had taken from the vase near at hand a rose, which she had pushed in
among the masses of hair, with no knowledge as to how it should be
arranged, or, indeed, thought; yet the effect was something which made
Mrs. Roberts give an involuntary start of admiration.
Still it was evident that, though apparently gazing at herself, she was
thinking away beyond herself. It is doubtful if at that moment she saw
the flower, or her own reflection, or knew that she was looking. Her
eyes had the faraway expression which one sometimes sees in great power
on faces like hers. She turned as Mrs. Roberts, having softly knocked
and received no answer, softly entered, and her first words indicated
the intensity of her thought, whatever it was:--
"Dirk has _got_ to go there!"
"Go where?" asked Mrs. Roberts, startled out of the words she meant to
speak; startled by the hint of power in the voice and manner.
"Of whom are you thinking, my dear girl? and where do you want him to
go?"
"I'm thinking about Dirk, ma'am; I thought about him all the evening;
the man made me; and I've made up my mind; he's _got_ to go to
heaven!"
I suppose I cannot give you an idea of the force in her voice.
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