The Cape
men are a brave, hardy race; and the Cape women, grave and somewhat
silent, not demonstrative in joy or grief, reticent mostly of anxieties
and sorrows, born to endure, in separation from fathers, brothers,
lovers, husbands, in dangers not oftener fancied than real, griefs
which more fortunate women find it difficult to imagine,--these Cape
women are worthy mothers of brave men. Of such our Hepsy Ann was a fair
example,--weaving her rather prosaic life into golden dreams in the
quiet light of her pantry refuge, happy chiefly because she thought
much and carefully for others and had little time for self-brooding;
like most genuine heroines, (except those of France,) living an heroic
life without in the least suspecting it.
And did she believe in Elkanah?
Utterly.
And did Elkanah believe in himself?
Yes,--but with certain grave doubts. Here is the difference: the
woman's faith is intuition; the man must have a reason for the faith
that is in him.
Yet Elkanah was growing. I think a man grows like the walls of a house,
by distinct stages: so far the scaffolding reaches, and then a general
stoppage while the outer shell is raised, the ladders lengthened, and
the work squared off.
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