Read "Thomas Wingfold. Volume II" by George MacDonald online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
When the curate stood up to read, his eyes as of themselves sought / Mrs. Ramshorn's pew. There sat Helen, with a look that revealed, he / thought, more of determination and less of suffering. Her aunt was / by her side, cold and glaring, an ecclesiastical puss, ready to / spring upon any small church-mouse that dared squeak in its own / murine way. Bascombe was not visible, and that was a relief. For an / unbelieving face, whether the dull dining countenance of a mayor, or / the keen searching countenance of a barrister, is a sad bone in the / throat of utterance, and has to be of set will passed over, and, if / that may be, forgotten. Wingfold tried hard to forget Mrs. / Ramshorn's, and one or two besides, and by the time he came to the / sermon, thought of nothing but human hearts, their agonies, and him / who came to call them to him.
"I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."