Bressant by Julian Hawthorne
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Julian Hawthorne >> Bressant
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At the same moment, too, through a rift in the dull sky, a little gleam
of sunshine--the first of that gray day--descended, and rested upon
Bressant. It accompanied him to the gate, and, still keeping close to
him, slipped up the path between the trees, and even followed him on to
the porch, where it brightened about him, as he put his hand to the
latch. Was it a symbol of some loving spirit, newly set free from its
mortal body, come to watch over him for evermore?
An old woman, who stood without clutching the palings of the gate, saw
Bressant open the door and pass inward, and the sunshine entered with
him. The door was left ajar--might she not enter too? Just then, a
little ormolu clock, on the mantel-piece inside, gave a preliminary
whirr, and hastily struck the hour of noon. As if in answer to a signal,
the sun smiled broadly forth, and quite transfigured the weather-beaten
old Parsonage.
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