



Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive









IN SPITE OF ALL

A Novel

By Edna Lyall


London: Hurst And Blackett, Limited

1901

TO MY BROTHER

R. BURGES BAYLY (Vicar of Bosbury)

AND TO MY FRIENDS

and Mrs. A. S. HOMEWOOD

IN MEMORY OF

JANUARY AND FEBRUARY, 1900.

“When ae door steeks, anither opens.”




IN SPITE OF ALL.




CHAPTER I.


               Many loved Truth, and lavished life’s best oil

               Amid the dusk of books to find her.

               But these our brothers fought for her,

               At life’s dear peril wrought for her,

               So loved her that they died for her,

               Tasting the raptured fleetness Of her divine completeness:

               Their higher instinct knew

               Those love her best who to themselves are true,

               And what they dare to dream of dare to do.

               They followed her and found her Where all may hope to find--

               Not in the ashes of the burnt-out mind,

               But beautiful with danger’s sweetness round her,

               Where faith made whole with deed

               Breathes its awakening breath

               Into the lifeless creed;

               They saw her plumed and mailed,

               With sweet, stem face unveiled,

               And all-repaying eyes look proud on them in death.

                        --Lowell.

There had been a heavy fall of snow in Hereford during the night, but
the south walk in Dr. Harford’s garden had been swept, and the still,
frosty air and mid-day sunshine made the place as pleasant a playground
as could be wished. The merry voices of a boy and girl had rung for the
last half-hour in the pleasance, and