Florence L. Barclay

Florence L. Barclay

Summary

Portrait of Florence L. Barclay Florence L. Barclay The Wheels of Time

Seven years of married life had only added to the wonder and romance of Deryck's love. Each time he took her away with him was like a fresh honeymoon, more perfect than the last. Why did she forget when she came home, how sweet it was to be away with him? Why had she defrauded herself and him of the perfect hours which might have been theirs this day? Why had she failed him in his time of need?
Oh, selfish! shallow! self-absorbed! Loving to be loved, not rising to the joy of loving. Taking his care and thought and adoration as her due, giving no tender service in return.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Florence L. Barclay Florence L. Barclay The Wheels of Time

Her eyes and lips smiled tenderly, and lifting the white roses she laid them for a moment against her cheek.
"Home," said the doctor's wife, suddenly; and as the car turned obediently and sped out at the gate the voice of the baby's godmother seemed to pursue her relentlessly: "Give Deryck his white rose while he asks it of you. A man requires the instant fulfillment of his heart's desires. When he needs a thing, he needs it NOW!"
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Florence L. Barclay Florence L. Barclay The Wheels of Time

Each heart must pass through the furnace for itself. To hear of the refining of others, has no lasting effect on the heart's own alloy.
She knew this, and her thoughts followed Flower anxiously. At length she rose, and stood leaning her elbow upon the mantelpiece and looking long at an old miniature of the doctor, placed there among Flower's special treasures; but the doctor before Flower knew him, the doctor as he was in years gone by, when he and the baby's godmother were faithful chums, and she was his trusted confidante and the sharer of all his hopes and ambitions.
Source: Gutenberg

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