Free Green Darkness by Anya Seton Page A

black hair glistened from a shower. Lily had the impression of extreme order and cleanliness, noting absently that the room seemed very bare. He must have removed the knickknacks, the ashtrays, even the French prints which had hung on the walls. The only ornament was a bowl full of fragrant heliotrope and red roses.
    “I just wanted to . . . to ask you . . . well, about Celia . . . and Richard was rude to me. Of course that doesn’t matter . . . but he never was until today, and what
really
made Celia faint? Everything is suddenly so mixed up and queer.” Her blue eyes filled with tears.
    Akananda looked at her sadly. But it was not the time to give her what explanations he could. “We’ll both pray,” he said. “You in your way, I in mine. All heart-prayers are heard. All incense rises toward heaven, no matter the perfume it’s composed of.”
    “Oh, I believe that,” said Lily, her face clearing. “I guess I’ll go to church tomorrow morning. It always makes me feel better. But you don’t believe in Christianity, do you, Dr. Akananda?”
    “Of course I do,” he said laughing. “The Lord Christ was sent from God to show the way, the truth and the life, to the western world. But there’ve been other enlightened Sons of God. Enlightened Beings who redeem mankind. The Lord Krishna was such a one, and the Lord Buddha. None of their basic teachings are incompatible with each other. Because they come from the same source. You understand this intuitively, Mrs. Taylor. And that’s all you need. I’ll gladly accompany you to that charming village church tomorrow. One can more easily touch God in appointed places of worship. Christian cathedrals, Hindu temples, in mosques and synagogues. To many souls beauty of surroundings is helpful, to some essential, and yet for those of a different temperament the spirit may more readily be felt in a bare Quaker Meeting House. It doesn’t matter.”
    Lily agreed with him, now that she thought about it; as she instinctively agreed with any optimistic philosophy. She smiled and said, “Yes, you make me feel quite comforted, and I really do know that prayers are answered. I don’t know why I got upset in the study.”
    “Prayers . . .” he said gravely, “are always
heard.
They are
answered
according to Divine Law. Prayers are really desires. And desires, good
or
bad, are fulfilled according to their strength. Good desire reaps good action. Evil also has great strength. Violent desires inevitably set the machinery in motion. This earthly plane is run by passions flaming through, and yet always part of the delusions of Maya. As long as there’s violence there will be retribution in this life or succeeding ones. I believe you understand this?”
    “Well, yes,” said Lily, “in a way.” Though she wondered what a grave speech about violence had to do with a little fainting spell, or the unexpected sharpness of a son-in-law. “I read somewhere lately,” she said thoughtfully, “that this generation of hippies, the flower children who want to drop out from the whole social structure, the article said they were all reincarnations of those who were killed young in the last war. Do you think that’s possible?”
    “Quite possible,” he answered smiling. “At least in part. And their demonstrations against war, hatred and greed, though often misguided, are signs of spiritual progress. However, dear lady, the forces threatening us here in Medfield Place originated further back in the past than the last war and are of singular
personal
intensity.” He might have continued trying to prepare and strengthen her, as he had her daughter, but Lily started.
    “Heavens!” she said, “I heard a car on the drive. Must be those Warners. I’ll be late.” She smiled at him and hurried to her room.
     
    Celia’s vagueness and look of strain had vanished when Richard came upstairs to her bedroom saying, “I hear you fainted at Ightham Mote, what happened?”
    She