Still Onward

His, all the mighty movements
That urge the hero's breast,
The longings and the lovings,
The spirit's glad unrest,
That scorns excuse to tender,
Or fortune's favor ask,
That never will surrender
Whatever be the task!

--M.F. Tupper.

Beatrice did not come again to the schoolroom to see Ishmael. The memory
of old school-day friendship, as well as the prompting of hospitality
and benevolence, had brought her there on her first visit. She had not
thought of the lapse of time, or the change that two years must have
made in him as well as in herself, and so, where she expected to find a
mere youth, she found a young man; and maiden delicacy restrained her
from repeating her visit.

On Thursdaymorning, however, as Ishmael was opening his schoolroom he
heard a brisk step approaching, and Mr. Middleton was at his side. Their
hands flew into each other and shook mutually before either spoke. Then,
with beaming eyes and hearty tones, both exclaimed at once: "I am so glad to see you!"

"Of course you arrived last night! I hope you had a pleasant journey,
and that Mrs. Middleton has recovered her fatigue," said Ishmael,
placing a chair for his visitor.

"A very pleasant journey. The day was delightfully cool, and even my
wife did not suffer from fatigue. She is quite well this morning, and
quite delighted with her new home. But, see here, Ishmael, how you have
changed! You are taller than I am! You must be near six feet in
height--are you not?"