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+Project Gutenberg's Frederica and her Guardians, by Margaret Robertson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Frederica and her Guardians
+       The Perils of Orphanhood
+
+Author: Margaret Robertson
+
+Release Date: December 3, 2011 [EBook #38198]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREDERICA AND HER GUARDIANS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+
+
+
+Frederica and her Guardians
+The Perils of Orphanhood
+By Margaret Robertson
+Published by Hodder and Stoughton.
+This edition dated 1881.
+
+Frederica and her Guardians, by Margaret Robertson.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+FREDERICA AND HER GUARDIANS, BY MARGARET ROBERTSON.
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+The Perils of Orphanhood.
+
+The house in which the Vanes lived stood in a large and beautiful
+garden, and both were enclosed by a high brick wall, over which only the
+waving tops of the trees could be seen from the street.  There were a
+good many such houses in M. at the time my story opens.  They were
+originally built in the country, amid green fields and orchards, where,
+on summer days, one might sit and look at country sights and listen to
+country sounds, and quite forget that the hum and bustle of a great town
+sounded close at hand.
+
+As time went on, and commerce prospered, the town extended itself in all
+directions.  Houses, some large and some small, were built near those
+pleasant country homes, and in a few years stretched far beyond them.
+Sometimes the gardens were encroached upon, and streets were opened, and
+building lots laid out and occupied close to the house itself, till only
+a narrow strip of dusty lawn was left.  But in some streets the high
+brick garden-walls made a blank between great blocks of stores and
+terraces of dwellings for a good many years, and in some streets there
+are high brick garden-walls still.
+
+The house in which the Vanes lived was a long time before it yielded up
+a foot of its large garden which the wall shut in.  This wall was broken
+on two sides by gates.  In a narrow street which led down towards the
+river were two heavy wooden doors, one large enough to admit a carriage,
+the other smaller, for the convenience of those who entered on foot.  On
+another side, from one of the great thoroughfares of the city, the
+grounds were entered by handsome iron gates.  A clump of evergreens and
+ornamental shrubs in part hid the house, even when the gates, were open,
+and a low cedar hedge and a fence of iron network separated the lawn and
+the carriage-drive from the more extensive grounds behind the house.
+
+The house itself had no particular claim to be called handsome, except
+that it was large and well built of grey hewn stone.  It was high and
+square, and on one side a wing had been thrown out, which rather spoiled
+the appearance of the original building; but, standing back from the
+bustle and dust of the street, behind the green, lawn and pebbly
+carriage-drive, and partly hidden by the trees and shrubs, it looked a
+very pleasant and pretty place for a home.
+
+This house was built and occupied many years by Mr St. Hubert, an
+immigrant from France, and at his death it was left to his only child,
+Mrs Vane, with a condition that neither it nor a foot of the land about
+it should be sold during her life-time.  A great many tales might be
+told of what happened in that house from first to last--most of them
+sorrowful tales enough--but it is only the story of poor Mrs Vane and
+her children that is to be told here.
+
+Almost every one spoke of this lady as "poor Mrs Vane."  Her friends
+had all said, "Poor Theresa," when it was first known that she was to be
+married to Mr Vane; for he was a poor man, and a widower with three
+children, who, they all said, wished to marry her because she was the
+daughter of a man who was supposed to be rich.  Her father would have
+given half of what he possessed, rather than that she should have
+married Mr Vane; but he had never crossed a wish of hers during all the
+eighteen years of her life, and it was too late to begin then.  So,
+though he did not like him, he gave his consent to the marriage, on
+condition that he should leave the army, and accept a situation in a
+public office, which he, being a man of wealth and influence, was able
+to obtain for him.  It did not cost Mr Vane much self-denial to do
+this--though he used afterwards to declare that it did--for he was a man
+who first of all considered what was for his own ease and pleasure.  Nor
+did it trouble him much to send his children from him.  His eldest
+daughter was adopted by his first wife's mother, who resided in the town
+of M.; and his other children--a boy and girl--were sent home to be
+cared for and educated by their father's friends in England; and he took
+up his residence in the luxurious home of his father-in-law with very
+good will.
+
+It did not prove a happy marriage.  It might have done so, perhaps, if
+after a few years Mrs Vane's health had not failed.  If she could have
+continued the gay life to which she had been introduced, and could have
+shone a belle among her husband's friends, as she had done in her own
+smaller circle while a girl, she might have had a sort of happiness,
+while it lasted, and so might he.  But after awhile her health failed,
+and at the time of her father's death, which happened when her eldest
+child was thirteen years of age, she was a confirmed invalid.
+
+She was "poor Mrs Vane" indeed then.  A suffering, solitary, forsaken
+woman she felt herself to be the day her dead father was carried away
+from the house he had built.  Not that her husband had ever been unkind
+to her, or even openly neglectful.  But he had never cared for her as
+she had cared for him; and it was not in his nature to understand the
+wants or cravings of a sick unsatisfied heart like hers, much less to
+minister to them.  He was sorry that she could no longer go into the
+society she had always adorned, and he often told her so; but he never
+gave up a pleasure which society could offer to him for her sake.  He
+grieved for her sufferings, and did what might be done during a brief
+visit or two each day to relieve them; but long before her father's
+death she had come to feel that his grief was of a kind that could very
+well be left in her chamber when he went away.  After a time the vain
+craving for his sympathy, which made the first years of her illness so
+miserable, wore away, and a kind of dull content, growing gradually out
+of an interest in other things, took its place; but she was "poor Mrs
+Vane" still to the few friends who had not forgotten her already in her
+enforced retirement.
+
+And her husband was "poor Mr Vane" to himself and everybody else when
+Mr St. Hubert died.  The old man had treated him shamefully, he thought
+and declared, for his name was not mentioned in his will.  The house and
+a certain income was insured to his wife while she lived, and at her
+death all the property was to be divided between the children, and given
+up to them as each came of age.  But he had nothing; and even his wife's
+income was not allowed to pass through his hands.
+
+It was not a very large income.  It would not have sufficed for her and
+her children, had they been living in the gay world, entertaining and
+being entertained.  But living quietly, as her health obliged them to
+live, it might be considered ample for them all.  At any rate, she knew
+it would have to suffice; for Mr Vane, having always spent his own
+income on his own pleasures, was ill prepared to give up any part of it.
+
+They did not grow happier together after this.  Some time before Mr St.
+Hubert's death the care of household affairs had been committed by him
+into the hands of a relative of his own--a widow of the name of Ascot;
+and during his life-time nothing transpired to occasion any doubt as to
+her entire fitness for the position he had given her.  She was a French
+woman by birth, and spoke English very imperfectly, though her deceased
+husband had been an Englishman.  She was a very quiet, firm person,
+faithful in the performance of all her duties, and careful and exact in
+the management of the household expenses.  She never presumed on her
+relationship in any way that was disagreeable to Mr St. Hubert, and, by
+her attention to himself and her kindness to Mrs Vane, won his
+confidence entirely; and his anxiety as to the future of his daughter
+and her children was in a great measure allayed by the promise she made
+never to leave them while they needed her care.
+
+But after his death matters were not so well managed.  At least, they
+were not managed to the satisfaction of poor Mrs Vane.  In a very short
+time an entire change was effected in the household.  Mr Vane found it
+an improvement as far as _his_ comfort was concerned, or probably Mrs
+Ascot's stay in the house would have been short.  But it was not so with
+Mrs Vane.  Mrs Ascot was very quiet, very reasonable, and, above all,
+very firm.  "Nothing was so necessary for Mrs Vane as entire quiet,"
+she declared; and the poor mother had not the strength or courage to
+carry on a battle with her stronger will.  So her two little daughters
+were sent to school, and her two little sons, with their nurse, were
+banished to the part of the house most distant from their mother's room,
+and were only permitted to visit it at certain times.  They would have
+been sent to school, too, if Mrs Ascot could have accomplished it; but,
+as the eldest was only four years of age at the time of his
+grandfather's death, this she could hardly do.
+
+Only one thing saved Mrs Vane from falling into hopeless fretfulness or
+helpless imbecility--this was the constant presence of her eldest and
+dearest child, Selina.  Even Mrs Ascot's cold-heartedness could not
+separate these two.  Even Mr Vane's selfishness was not equal to
+planning or permitting anything that could come between the mother and
+her child.  For the little girl was blind,--had been blind from her
+seventh year, and since that time she had never once been beyond the
+sound of her mother's voice.
+
+A great many of God's best blessings come to us disguised as sorrows.
+It seemed to this mother, when she could no longer doubt that the light
+of heaven was to be denied to her child, that God could deal no harder
+blow, and in her wild angry way she prayed that the little creature
+might die.  She thought of all that had made life sweet to herself, from
+all which her child must be shut out for ever, and she utterly refused
+to be comforted.
+
+And yet, as the years went on, the affliction of the child did more for
+the mother than all the blessings that had been showered on her youth,
+than all the trials that had fallen on her later years--it made her
+forget herself.  In seeking to brighten her little daughter's life, her
+own was brightened.  She suffered herself to be beguiled into exertions
+for her sake, that would have seemed impossible for her own.  She
+welcomed the few visitors that came, because Selina liked to hear new
+voices and make new friends.  The daily walk in the garden or the drive
+in the carriage sometimes seemed a weariness to her; but they deepened
+the rose on the little girl's cheek, and she went for her sake.  She
+recalled the little songs and tales of her childhood for her pleasure,
+and took pains to learn such simple fancy work as the blind child could
+be taught to do.
+
+In her little daughter the mother found solace for many a sorrow.  She
+was a fair, slender child, more like her father than her mother, but
+like neither in disposition.  She was sweet and cheerful always, even
+merry in her quiet way.  She knew her blindness was a great misfortune,
+but it did not press upon her as such.  She never repined under it, nor
+murmured that she was not like the rest; but rather comforted herself
+and her mother, saying that no schools nor visits could ever take her
+from her and from home; and after a time her mother was comforted and
+reconciled to her affliction.
+
+"For after all," she thought, "what has life to give to any one?  Far
+better that she should live here always, safe, and ignorant of the world
+and its ways, than that she should taste of pleasure only to have it
+turn to bitterness on her lips, as it has done on mine.  If she could
+only be always a child!  What will become of my darling when I must go
+and leave her?"
+
+Poor Mrs Vane!  She sought refuge in the present, from the griefs of
+the past, and the fears for the future; for she was one of those who
+have no safe place to which they can flee from trouble.  She had
+scarcely even a form of religion.  She had been altogether untaught as
+regards sacred things.  Her mother had been a Jewess, and had died
+young, and her father had had no religion.  Her husband troubled himself
+very little about these things, either for her or himself.  He had
+chosen godfathers and godmothers for his children, and had them
+baptised, and then his duty was done.  And the poor, solitary, suffering
+mother knew not where to betake herself in her time of need.  Her fears
+for the future of all her children pressed on her heavily often, and she
+longed sadly and earnestly for some true friend to whom she might trust
+them.
+
+And so the months and years passed, with nothing to break the monotony
+of their life but the monthly visits of the two school girls, Frederica
+and Theresa.  Very pleasant breaks they were.  The girls always came
+into the still sunshine of their mother's pretty room like a fresh sweet
+breeze from the outer world, bringing health and fragrance on its wings.
+They were bright days indeed.  Selina lived another life in the tales
+told by the school girls; and even their mother forgot her cares and
+ailments for the time as she listened to their merry talk.  They were
+not at all alike: Selina was growing up tall and fair, like an English
+girl, her blind beautiful eyes clear and cloudless as the summer heaven;
+Frederica was small and dark, as much a Jewess in appearance as ever her
+grandmother had been; Theresa was more like Frederica than Selina, but
+plainer than either.  But they were all alike in one thing: they loved
+each other and their mother dearly, and longed earnestly for the time
+when their school days should be over, and they should be happy
+together.
+
+So poor Mrs Vane, who had comfort in so few things, had much comfort in
+her daughters and their love.  And she needed all their comfort, poor
+soul! for some troubles, hard to bear, fell to her lot at this time--
+troubles which she could not let them share with her, and which need not
+be told here.
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+A whole week of holidays!--unexpected, unhoped-for holidays!  For Mrs
+Glencairn was a Scotch lady, and had small respect for days "appointed
+by men."  All the days in the year were good days to a Godfearing
+people, said she; and as a general thing, Easter passed in their school
+just like any other time.  But this year there was to be a whole week of
+holidays, whatever might be the reason.  The pupils who stayed wearied
+themselves with conjectures as to why it had so happened; but the happy
+little girls who could go home to enjoy them, accepted the boon without
+a question, content with the fact itself.
+
+Content!  That hardly expresses the feelings of the little Vanes as they
+went dancing down the street, unconsciously jostling the many
+church-goers in their joyful excitement.  Perfect happiness was in their
+hearts, shone in their faces, and rang out in their voices, and people
+as they passed turned again to look at them, so charming was the sight
+to see.  They were happy in their own holiday, and happy in the thought
+that their coming home would make a holiday for their mother and Selina
+and their little brothers.
+
+"And I am sure there will be some flowers out in the garden," said
+Theresa,--"hyacinths or snowdrops, at least.  And all the walks will be
+so neat and the borders.  That is one good thing about Mrs Ascot, she
+does see that the garden is beautifully kept."
+
+"Yes, very.  But I only hope mama will be well.  It is so lovely to-day;
+and we must have a drive.  It will make no difference though Dixen be
+busy in the garden, because I shall drive myself."
+
+"But will mama like that, do you think?" asked Theresa doubtfully.
+
+"Of course she will like it, and Selina too.  They have perfect
+confidence in me," said Frederica firmly.  "And as for Prickly Polly,"--
+she shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"But no, my children!  What shall I say to your papa when you shall be
+brought home in little morsels, and the carriage, and your dear mama!"
+And Theresa clasped her hands, and threw back her head with an air so
+ludicrously like Mrs Ascot, that her sister laughed merrily.
+
+"She will go to church to-day.  What if we should meet her?"
+
+"Oh! she would be sure to go back with us.  Let us go down the other
+way!"
+
+Laughing and running, the girls turned into a narrow street.  In their
+haste they ran against a little old gentleman just stepping out from an
+office door.  They did not quite overturn him, but they startled him out
+of his good manners, and he uttered an angry exclamation in French.
+Then, as they turned to apologise, he exclaimed, "The young ladies Vane!
+What next, I wonder?"
+
+"Mr St. Cyr! a thousand pardons."  They had been speaking English all
+the way down the street, but they spoke French to him, and both the
+girls dropped their very best curtseys.
+
+"It must be that my little cousins have come to get their wills made, or
+their marriage contracts drawn, in all this haste."
+
+Mr St. Cyr was the gentleman to whom their grandfather had committed
+the arrangement of his affairs; it was he who still managed the
+property; and through his hands their mother's income came still.
+
+"I was going to church this morning, but I shall be happy to defer it
+for you.  You need not have been in such haste, however."
+
+The girls laughed, and apologised again.
+
+"We were running away from Prickly Polly," said Theresa.
+
+"From Madame Marie Pauline Precoe Ascot," explained Frederica.
+
+"Is she coming after you?  You had much better come in here," said Mr
+St. Cyr, pretending great fright.
+
+"Oh, no!  But she is sure to go to church today, and we thought we might
+meet her.  And if she knew we were going home, it might shorten her
+devotions."
+
+"If she knew we had a holiday, she would want to come home to vex us.
+We are not among her favourites--especially Fred."
+
+"Ah! that is it, is it?" said Mr St. Cyr.  "She is hard on you, is she?
+I hope you do not let her trouble you too much."
+
+"By no means," said Frederica with dignity.  "On the contrary, I think I
+trouble her far more."
+
+"I can conceive it possible," said Mr St. Cyr with a shrug.  "But are
+you sure you can find your way home by these streets?  See, I will go
+with you, and show you past the corner below.  And let us hope that
+Madame Pauline will confess all her sins to-day; and I fancy that might
+ensure her absence till nightfall at least.  And my young ladies, the
+next time you come to me in your troubles, pray don't begin by knocking
+me down."
+
+"Pardon us, Cousin Cyprien.  It was very careless," said Frederica,
+eagerly.  "But really and truly, may I come to you with my troubles?  I
+mean, of course, when I have any.  I have none now," she added,
+laughing.
+
+Mr St. Cyr did not laugh.  He looked gravely into the bright face
+before him, so gravely that the laughing eyes looking up at him grew
+grave too.
+
+"I hope it will be a long time before you need my help in trouble,
+little cousin.  How old are you now?  Let us see."
+
+Instead of turning at the corner, as he meant to do, he walked on with
+them.
+
+"I shall be fifteen my next birthday.  It comes in August," said
+Frederica.
+
+"Fifteen!" repeated Mr St. Cyr.  "But what a little creature you are!
+It is a pity."
+
+"I am as tall as mama," said Frederica with dignity.
+
+"Yes, I suppose so.  She was just such another child.  Ah! how the years
+pass!"
+
+"I shall grow yet, I have no doubt," said Frederica.
+
+"Ah! well! we will hope so.  And be quick about it.  If you were only as
+tall as your sister at home now, we might strain a point, and call your
+education finished, and send you home to your mother.  You must have
+learned quantities of things all these years, eh?"
+
+"Oh! quantities!" said Frederica gravely.  "But, Mr St. Cyr, I am not
+very big, I know.  Still I could be a comfort to mama all the same."
+
+"And she needs comfort you think?"
+
+"It gives her pleasure to have us at home."
+
+"And she has not so many pleasures, these days," said Mr St. Cyr.  "But
+it would not do, I fear, not yet.  Why, you are a mere child!  I had no
+idea!  Not nearly so mature as her mother was at her age," continued he,
+not to her, but to himself.  "Well, so much the better.  The more a
+child the better.  The longer a child the better.  She is so like her
+mother, too.  The same sweet smiling eyes.  Ah! there are so great
+mistakes made in this life!"
+
+"Mr St. Cyr," said Frederica in a moment, "I am very little, I know,
+but Mrs Glencairn says I have a great deal of good sense, if I would
+only use it; and I daresay if you were to tell papa that I have learned
+enough of things, and that I ought to stay at home with mama and Selina,
+I don't think he would object."
+
+Mr St. Cyr only answered by that wonderful shrug of his shoulders,
+which he could make to express anything--surprise, doubt, utter
+disbelief; and Frederica went on:
+
+"Indeed, Mrs Glencairn thinks I am very sensible, and so does Miss
+Robina.  Will you tell papa to let me stay at home, Mr St. Cyr?"
+
+"And you think he would do it for me?" said he with an odd smile.  "You
+are too young--much too young.  If I had my way, you should remain a
+happy child for years and years yet--no millinery, no balls, no
+admiration, for seven years at least.  Ah! when I think of your mother,
+and see you looking at me with her happy eyes!  But what is the use of
+going over all this?  I shall, be late for church, and I must bid you
+good day.  And if I shall see--what is this you call her, little one?--
+Prickly Polly!--I shall send her wool-gathering, shall I?  And then you
+can pass the day without her."
+
+They all laughed.
+
+"Oh!  I am not the least afraid of her; though I am not very big," said
+Frederica.
+
+"But you may send her to gather wool, all the same," said Theresa.
+
+Then they went quietly on their way.  There was no dancing along the
+street after that, as Mr St. Cyr saw when he turned at the corner of
+the square to look after them.
+
+"She is like her mother," said he to himself, "but more like her
+grandmother, that shrewd little Jewess, with her `good sense,' as madame
+the schoolmistress says.  Ah! if she had lived, that poor foolish child
+would not have been suffered to make that great mistake in life.  But I
+must go to church.  How many times have I said that I would not permit
+myself to care for her children as I have cared for her, to have my
+heart torn by ingratitude, or by indifference, which is as ill to bear.
+If, indeed, through them I could wound the self-love and vanity of their
+father, and so avenge the wrongs of my friend's child, the poor
+Theresa--ah! then I might care for them, and fight for them against him
+to the death."  And with this Christian sentiment in his heart, the
+little man went up the great cathedral steps to pray.
+
+In the meantime the two girls were walking slowly down the street.
+
+"I like Cousin Cyprien very much," said Frederica, gravely.
+
+"Yes, so do I," said her sister.  "But then he is not our cousin, you
+know."
+
+"Well, he was grandpapa's cousin; and if he is not ours, we have none.
+I like him."
+
+"Madame Ascot is our cousin quite as much as he."
+
+"Madame Ascot, indeed!  Don't be silly, Tessie;" and she shrugged her
+shoulders in Mr St. Cyr's fashion.  "I wish I had gone to church with
+Mr St. Cyr.  I mean I wish I had offered to go.  He would have been
+pleased."
+
+"But papa would not have been pleased, Fred."
+
+"He would not have cared about my going to church.  He would not have
+been pleased that I should go to give pleasure to Mr St. Cyr.  He does
+not like him; I wonder why."
+
+"Oh! you know very well.  It is because of grandpapa's will."
+
+"Mama likes him.  She says he is a good and just man.  He is very
+religious."
+
+"So is Madame Ascot," said Tessie.  "I don't admire religious people."
+
+"But then there are so many ways of being religious.  Miss Baines'
+religion made her strong and patient to bear pain.  And she was good and
+kind always."
+
+"Miss Pardie is very religious--the cross thing," said Theresa, "and so
+is Fanny Green.  But she listens to the girl's conversation while she
+says her prayers.  And Mattie Holt tells tales, and is very
+disagreeable.  I don't admire religious people."
+
+"But then their religion cannot be of the right kind.  There must be
+some good in the right religion, if we only could be sure what the right
+is."
+
+"Oh, I daresay they are all good after a fashion.  One kind is good for
+one, and another kind for another."
+
+"But, Tessie, that is nonsense.  How can things be equally good that are
+exactly opposite?  And I know that Mrs Ascot thinks papa and the rest
+of us all wrong.  And you should have seen her scornful look, when I
+told her once that Miss Baines was a religious woman.  And I know that
+Mrs Glencairn and Miss Robina, among themselves, call Mrs Ascot `a
+poor benighted creature.'  They cannot all be right."
+
+"Oh! well! what does it matter?" said her sister, impatiently.  "Why
+should you care what Mrs Ascot thinks, or Mrs Glencairn either?"
+
+"Still, one would like to know.  Mr St. Cyr is good, but then Mrs
+Ascot is not; and they have just the same religion, though I don't
+suppose Mr St. Cyr goes so often to church, or to confession, as she
+does.  And Miss Baines was good, and her religion was quite different.
+As for papa and the rest of us, I don't think we have any at all."
+
+"Well, that shows that it doesn't matter about religion.  I am sure mama
+is much nicer than Madame Ascot, and she has no religion at all you say,
+and Madame says the same."
+
+"Mama is a Jewess, at least her mother was," said Frederica; "but she is
+certainly not religious in her way.  One ought to have a religion of
+some kind, only how is one to know when one has that which is right?"
+
+"There is the Bible," said Tessie, hesitating.
+
+"Yes, Miss Baines says it is the book of books, and mama approves of it
+too.  She has one, you know, only it is in Hebrew.  I shall ask some one
+about it,--which is the right kind I mean."
+
+"Papa, for instance, or Mr St. Cyr.  But one would tell you one thing,
+and the other another, and you would be just in the same place.  Only I
+think papa would just laugh at you."
+
+"I suppose so.  But there must be some way of finding out the truth."
+
+"Better go and ask the bishop," said Tessie, laughing.  "But then there
+are two bishops, and which is the right?  Don't be a goose, Fred."
+
+"I am quite serious, I assure you, for the moment," added she.  "And
+indeed, it is a thing to be quite serious about."
+
+"If we had gone to the convent, as Mr St. Cyr and Madame Ascot wished,
+instead of to Mrs Glencairn's, we should have known all about it.  But
+then it is quite right that we should be of the same religion as papa.
+Still I think he did not care himself, only he wished to vex Mr St.
+Cyr."
+
+Frederica said nothing for a minute, and her sister added--
+
+"We ought to learn about it in church: that is what we go to church for,
+I suppose."
+
+"Yes, and I like to go very well, but I get very sleepy during the
+sermon, especially when we go with Miss Robina.  I try to listen
+sometimes; but of course all that is meant for grown-up people, and I
+don't understand it."
+
+"Were you not just telling Mr St. Cyr that you are grown up?  But I
+think you are very stupid to bother about it.  If people say their
+prayers and are nice and obliging, and all that, I think that is quite
+enough.  I am sure mama is good, and so is Selina, and what is the use
+talking so much about religion, _as_ though that would make any
+difference?"
+
+"Yes, mama is good, and Selina, but I am not, at least very often I am
+not.  And there must be some way of finding out what is wrong and what
+is right."
+
+"Of course there is--your own conscience," said Tessie, triumphantly.
+"Hasn't Mrs Glencairn often told you?"
+
+Frederica shook her head.
+
+"But there must be something more than that.  I wish I knew."
+
+"Say your prayers and go to church, that is religion, everybody knows.
+But to be good and nice is something quite different.  I think you are
+very silly, with all your wishes and talking, and I beg you won't say
+anything to Selina about it.  She thinks of things afterwards, and you
+are not to vex her.  And don't look like that, or I shall wish you had
+gone to church with Mr St. Cyr.  But you will forget all about it
+before to-morrow.  That is one comfort."
+
+"Very likely; but that does not prove anything;" said Frederica.
+"Everybody ought to have some kind of religion; and sometimes, when I
+used to see Miss Baines so happy in the midst of all her pain and
+trouble, I thought of poor mama, and wished that she could know all
+about it.  But I won't say anything to Selina just yet."
+
+"No, nor ever, unless you are a goose.  Here we are at home.  Won't they
+be glad?"  And the little girl ran up the broad stone steps, and danced
+out her impatience while she was made to wait for the opening of the
+door.
+
+"No," said Frederica, as she stood at her side; "I am not going to spoil
+our visit with religion, at any rate; and I daresay you are right,
+Tessie, and I may forget all about it before the week is over."
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+Easter fell late this year.  The grass on the sheltered lawn was already
+green, and there were many budding things in the borders; and with the
+sunshine falling on them so warm and bright, it almost seemed to the
+children like a summer day.  Tessie could not resist the temptation to
+run down the steps again, to peep through the wires and over the low
+cedar hedge at the crocuses and snowdrops beyond:
+
+"We shall have cold days enough yet," she said as she came back; "but I
+need not spoil to-day thinking about them.  It is just like summer
+to-day."
+
+"We shall make a summer day in the house to mama and Selina, that is--
+and to the children--and to Madame Marie Pauline Precoe Ascot, too, if
+she will let us; to the rest, whether she will or not."
+
+The coming in of the two children brightened their mother's dim room
+like sunshine, and the more this time that they were not expected.  It
+was early yet, and their mother was not dressed; but their sister sprang
+to meet them with a glad cry, and in a minute they were all rejoicing
+round their mother's couch.
+
+"A week of holidays, mama!  Think of it, Lina! a whole week.  I don't in
+the least know how it happened.  Somebody is going away or somebody is
+coming.  It doesn't matter; here we are.  Isn't it nice?"
+
+And so they chattered on for a time, while their mother listened.
+
+"Lina," said Frederica, in a little, "stand up, and let me see how tall
+you are."
+
+Seeing her there in her mother's room, you would never have supposed
+that Selina Vane was blind.  Her eyes were a clear and lovely blue, well
+opened and bright.  She walked about the room, not rapidly, but still
+lightly; not at all like one afraid.  While going about the house and
+garden, she bent slightly forward, and walked with one hand held a
+little out before her; but here, in her mother's dressing-room, she had
+no look of blindness.  Her face was as bright and happy as her sister's,
+and she rose at Frederica's bidding, laughing and wondering a little.
+Her sister placed herself beside her, and measured the difference in
+their height with her hand.  She shook her head gravely.
+
+"There _is_ a dreadful difference.  I am a shockingly little creature;
+am I not, mama?"
+
+She put on such a face of ludicrous dismay, that her mother could not
+but laugh.
+
+"Mama, I am nearly fifteen.  I ought to be a woman by this time, and
+really I am nothing but a child."
+
+She stood before a large dressing-glass, and surveyed herself
+discontentedly.
+
+"These curls have something to do with it, and this short dress.  That
+can be remedied, however."
+
+In a moment she had obtained a dressing-gown of her mother's, and,
+drawing the silken cord tightly round her waist, she walked up and down,
+looking over her shoulder to see herself in the glass.  The whole thing
+was done in a manner so childish, and so amusing, that her mother
+laughed merrily; and her little brother who had come in with Tessie,
+clapped their hands.  Frederica laughed too.
+
+"I am afraid it is not the dress, mama; I am only a child."
+
+"My darling! a happy child is a very good thing to be.  I hope it will
+be a long time before you are anything but a happy child.  The longer
+the better," added she, with a sigh.
+
+"That is what Cousin Cyprien said, mama," said Frederica, gravely.
+
+"Yes; it was Mr St. Cyr that put all that nonsense in her head about
+being a woman and grown up," said Tessie, severely; "and she told him
+she had a deal of sense, though she was so little.  For my part, I am
+very well content to be a child."
+
+"But you have a child, you know, dear; only thirteen, or is it twelve,
+mama?  A precocious child certainly, but still a child," said Frederica,
+with an air.
+
+"Mama, look at her.  She must be forty, at least," exclaimed Tessie.
+"She must be considerably older than Mrs Ascot--ever so much older than
+Lina."
+
+"What is it all about?" asked Selina, gently.
+
+"Never mind.  Don't ask her, Lina.  She is so dreadfully wise and clever
+that she is quite too much for me sometimes.  I should not wonder if
+Mrs Glencairn would wish to engage her to supply Miss Robina's place
+when she is married."
+
+"Tessie, that is a secret.  You promised not to tell--about Miss Robina,
+I mean."
+
+"How prudent, too?" said Tessie.  "Mama, we are not crazy; only we are
+so glad to get home."
+
+"And indeed, mama, I am very willing to be a child for a long time yet,"
+said Frederica, and seizing her little brother Hubert, she danced with
+him round the room to music of her own making.  Catching Charlie's
+hands, Tessie followed, while Selina, laughing, joined in the music,
+though not in the dance.
+
+"Mama," said she, softly, "is it the same house do you think?"
+
+The boys might have grown too noisy, but Frederica brought their play to
+an end presently.
+
+"Mama," said she, "it is the loveliest of spring days.  You think it
+cold, I daresay, as you have a fire, but it is just like summer, and I
+am going to drive you and Selina; and afterwards I will drive the boys,
+if they are very good.  We will go very slowly; not in the streets, but
+away in the country.  Mama, you are not afraid of my driving?"  Mrs
+Vane shook her head.  "No, love; I am not afraid.  I am sure you can
+drive the ponies; but it is a long time since I was out.  Selina will
+like to go, however."
+
+"And you too, mama--just a little way.  Are you not so well, mama?  You
+are tired.  Something has tired you.  Ah! these papers.  I see.  She
+could not have gone to church, and said her prayers quite happily,
+unless she had left you something to vex yourself with while she was
+away.  Where are they?  Why, mama, these are the very same I saw at
+Christmas--some of them at least," added she, after turning over a
+bundle of papers that lay on the dressing-table.  "I see butcher's
+bill--baker's bill--grocer's bill.  What quantities you and Selina must
+eat, mama!  I don't understand them in the least.  Were not all these
+things paid before, mama?"
+
+"Some of them must have been," replied Mrs Vane, wearily; "but I do not
+understand them."
+
+"And why should you be vexed?  Is not Mrs Ascot here for no other
+reason than to save you all this trouble?  And surely papa--"
+
+Mrs Vane made a sudden impatient gesture.  "Papa can do nothing.  There
+is nothing to be done but pay the bills, and he cannot pay them."
+
+"Has anything happened since we were at home?" asked Frederica
+anxiously.  "Have we grown poor?"
+
+"No, no.  Everything is as usual.  Indeed, Mr St. Cyr gave me more
+money than usual.  Rents have risen, he says.  He was here not a month
+since, but the money has all gone--`to pay servants' wages and old
+debts,' Mrs Ascot says.  I do not understand how it can be."
+
+"But, mama, there must be some mistake.  I wish I knew about bills and
+things.  Papa ought to examine these.  He would understand them.  Why
+should you be vexed about them?"
+
+"My love, there is nothing to understand, he says, but that the bills
+must be paid; and he says I must ask Mr St. Cyr for more money--that we
+have not enough to live upon.  I cannot do it.  It is not in his power
+to increase it.  He gave me more once, but I think, it was his own.  It
+was for Mrs Glencairn.  I could not bear that she who is so good to you
+should be without her money.  But I could not ask him again."
+
+"But, mama," said Frederica, hesitating, "has papa no money?  He goes to
+the office, and all that--and has he no salary, like other gentlemen?"
+
+"There is many a family kept on less than his income, Mr St. Cyr told
+me; but the keeping up of the place is expensive; and I cannot ask him.
+And oh, darling, to think that I should have spoiled your holiday with
+all this!"
+
+"Mama, don't you remember how you put these bills away at Christmas, not
+to vex yourself and us?  And here they are again.  It is right that I
+should be vexed with what vexes you, although I am a child."
+
+"Yes, if you could help me, dear."
+
+The children had gone out to the garden by this time.  Selina sat
+holding her mother's hand, listening with a grave face to all that
+passed.
+
+"Mama," said she, "Frederica ought to know.  She is a child, but she has
+sense; and, with her to help us, we might be able to understand.  Have
+you the papers, Frederica?  Mama read them all at Christmas after you
+went away, and she gave Madame Ascot money to pay some of them at least,
+and it cannot be right that they all should come back.  There must be
+some mistake."
+
+Frederica opened a great many papers and read patiently through long
+household accounts, and in a little while became utterly bewildered.
+Nothing but the grave looks of her mother and Selina prevented her from
+bursting into childish laughter, so comical did the going over and over
+the same thing seem to her.  The grocer's bill was the most amusing.
+"Tea, sugar, coffee, soap, candles, salt," and so on, over again.
+
+"Dear me, mama, how many things people need?"
+
+Then there were other bills, the butcher's, the baker's, and then a wine
+merchant's bill.  There was one which had "paid M. Leroy" at the end of
+it, and Frederica said--
+
+"Madame Ascot did not intend you should have this, mama.  However, we
+may as well put it with the rest."
+
+Selina listened earnestly, but said nothing.  Indeed, when they had all
+wearied themselves, they were no wiser, and no nearer the end of their
+trouble.
+
+"Mama, ought people to have bills?" said Frederica; "ought not people to
+pay when they buy things?  It would save a great deal of trouble."
+
+"I think they ought; but Mrs Ascot seems to have fallen into this way.
+It was not done when I was well.  Oh, if I were only able to attend to
+these things myself!  It is quite wrong that things should have fallen
+into such a state.  I do not believe there is any need that it should be
+so.  Everything is wrong, and I can do nothing.  I do not trust Madame
+Ascot: and your father,--there is no use speaking to him."
+
+She was getting excited, and would be ill soon, her daughters knew,
+unless this could be put out of her mind.
+
+"I will tell you what we must do, mama.  We will take all these papers
+to Mr St. Cyr--not to ask more money.  But he will understand them, and
+he will help us.  Mama, he was quite nice to-day, not at all cross,
+though we nearly knocked him down; and he said I was to come to him when
+I was in trouble, and I am sure this is dreadful trouble.  Selina, don't
+you think we might go to Mr St. Cyr?"
+
+Selina waited for her mother to speak.
+
+"I don't think Mrs Ascot would like it, nor papa.  He says Mr St. Cyr
+must advance the money to pay the bills, that is all."
+
+"Oh! as for papa, he won't trouble himself; and I think I should rather
+like to vex madame.  She need not be vexed if she has made no mistakes,
+and if she is quite to be trusted," said Frederica, with some
+hesitation.
+
+"There is no good in struggling against Mrs Ascot," said Mrs Vane
+hopelessly; "I have tried often, and there is no use.  I have not the
+strength nor the courage."
+
+The papers fell to the floor, as Frederica started up suddenly.
+
+"Mama, I have strength and courage to tear Madame Ascot into fifty
+thousand little pieces, if she dares to trouble you," cried she; and
+then, as she saw her mother's face, she hung her head, adding, "I beg
+your pardon, mama: that was very foolish and wicked."
+
+"My darling, there is no use in doing anything that Mrs Ascot will not
+like.  I have tried to bring things right often."
+
+"Because you are not strong.  Papa ought to do it," said Frederica.
+
+"And, mama, this cannot go on always.  There must come an end some time,
+and I think Frederica is right, and these papers should be sent to Mr
+St. Cyr."  Selina spoke very quietly.
+
+"And why should Madame Ascot care?" said Frederica.  "I hope she will
+care.  I should like to see her face when she knows Mr St. Cyr has got
+those disagreeable papers.  I have a fancy that their only use is to
+make you uncomfortable, you and Selina.  Now I shall put them away, and
+you must promise not to think of them again, till Cousin Cyprien shall
+make them all right.  And I will order the ponies, and drive you first,
+mama, and Lina, and afterwards Tessie and the boys, if they are very
+good."
+
+"Mama," said Selina, "I think this is quite the best way--about the
+papers, I mean.  You know you have thought about giving them to him
+before.  And he will be quite willing to take the trouble, and he will
+know what to do; he is wise.  Say that this is right, mama."
+
+"Indeed, love, I do not know what is right; but we will send them: I can
+do nothing else."
+
+"And it will all be made easy, mama.  I only wonder we have not sent
+them long ago.  And you are really not to think about them--promise,
+dear mama."
+
+And so the disagreeable subject was put away for that time.
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+The orders were given, and all preparations made, and in a little time
+the pony carriage stood at the door.  It was a carriage which Mr St.
+Hubert had had made for his daughter's use, after she became an invalid.
+It was open and quite low, and large enough to hold two persons,
+besides the fortunate ones who should occupy the luxurious chief seats.
+But the boys were restless, and sometimes noisy, and Tessie was to stay
+at home with them, so that their mother and Selina might sit in state
+and comfort.  Frederica, on the high front seat, acted as driver, and
+enjoyed it well.  Dixen was there beside her, so that her mother need
+not have the least cause for being frightened or nervous, and so lose
+the pleasure of the drive.
+
+Dixen had once been a soldier, and Mr Vane's servant while he was in
+the army, and had lived with him since his marriage in various
+capacities.  Lately he had been called the coachman; but to take Mrs
+Vane and Selina out to their unfrequent drives, was only a small part of
+what was expected from him.  He waited on Mr Vane, he worked under the
+gardener, and held himself ready to do whatever else might be found for
+him to do.  The other servants had got into the fashion of calling him
+old and good for little; but none of them all worked so faithfully for
+their wages as he.
+
+He did not feel affronted that the reins were taken out of his hands on
+this occasion; for the young lady had been taught to drive by him, and
+he was proud of her skill and success in the art.
+
+They left the city streets, and passing the toll-gate, soon found
+themselves with the river on one side and the dull grey fields and
+leafless trees on the other, with nothing to hinder the putting of the
+ponies to their speed.  It was a summer day for brightness and mildness,
+but Mrs Vane drew her fur cloak close around her, as the breeze from
+the river reached her; for she had made herself a prisoner in the house
+for a long time, and the keen air made her shiver.  Selina smiled with
+pleasure as she felt the wind on her face, and drew in long breaths of
+the sweet refreshing air.
+
+"Is not this nice, mama?" asked she, laying herself back among the
+cushions with a sigh of satisfaction.
+
+"Very nice and pleasant," said her mother, touching her hand gently.
+This stood to the blind girl for a smile.
+
+"And you are glad you came, mama?"
+
+"Very glad, love.  You have quite a colour already."
+
+"And so have you, mama," said Frederica, glancing round.  "When were you
+out last?"
+
+"Not for a long time--not since we went in a sleigh," said Selina,
+answering for her.  "We thought the roads could not be quite good yet.
+And mama is afraid of the cold."
+
+"Not since sleighing!" exclaimed Frederica: "you don't know your
+privileges.  Dixen, I am surprised at you."
+
+"It has no' been my fault, Miss Frederica, I can assure you," said Dixen
+gravely.
+
+"I have not felt inclined to go out," said Mrs Vane; "and, indeed,
+there is little pleasure in going when one has to be so muffled from the
+cold."
+
+"But, mama, you thought you could not come to-day.  You thought it would
+be too much for you, and now you enjoy it.  It is just what you need,
+and Selina too.  You want me to be at home to take care of you both."
+
+"And indeed, Miss, that's a true word of yours," said Dixen in a
+whisper.
+
+Frederica looked up quickly.
+
+"Mama, I am going to ask Dixen.  He is a man of sense.  Dixen, don't you
+think it is quite time that I should be considered a grown-up young
+lady?  I am fifteen, and mama needs me at home.  I am very little, I
+know," added she, deprecatingly, as the old man let a queer glance rest
+on her.  He answered with great gravity, however.
+
+"Good gear is ay in small bundles; and one does not need to be a
+giantess to be a comfort to one's mother."
+
+"Just so," Said Frederica, nodding well pleased.  "I am fifteen, and one
+ought to have some sense at fifteen.  Mama, are you keeping your
+promise?  You know you are only to think of pleasant things.  You are
+sure you are glad you came?"
+
+"Very glad, dear."
+
+"And not all for Lina's sake?"
+
+"No," said her mother, laughing; "a little for your sake."
+
+"Oh, I hope it will be fine every day while we are at home.  We shall
+drive every day.  Do you like it, Lina?"
+
+"Yes," said Selina softly.  Selina's "yes" said more than other people's
+protestations.
+
+It was very pleasant to them all.  It was not in appearance only that
+Mrs Vane had put away all unhappy thoughts; she had really put them
+away.  It was not that she had much hope that her cousin could put
+everything right, as Frederica had said, or that she had much faith in
+her little daughter's "good sense."  But she had great faith in her
+loving heart and happy temper, and it was a wonderful break in the dull
+life led by her and Selina to have the merry little creature with them,
+and she yielded entirely to the charm of her lively loving ways, and for
+the time was well and happy.  They only reached home in time for their
+two o'clock dinner, which they enjoyed all the more for their drive, and
+then Mrs Vane and Selina were left to rest, while Frederica went out
+with Tessie and the children.
+
+"It will not be too much for Jack and Jill, I hope," said Frederica, as
+she stood stroking the ponies before they set off.
+
+"Not if you drive gently," said Dixen.  "And I think, Miss Frederica,
+the mistress would be more at her ease if I were to go with you.  Not
+that there's any need of it, but she's nervous-like, you know."
+
+"And can you be spared?  You seem to be in such demand."
+
+"We'll no' ask," said Dixen.  "If you're wanting me, that is all that
+need be said.  Duty doesn't call two ways at once, they say; and if it's
+for pleasure, why should not I have a holiday as well as the rest?  And
+madame's no' here to hinder or to try it even."
+
+Frederica laughed.
+
+"And besides, Miss," continued Dixen, "it is more seemly for a young
+lady like you to have your servant with you.  It may do for children and
+common folk to go here and there by themselves, but a young lady like
+you--"
+
+Frederica opened her eyes.  This was a new light to see the matter in;
+she was by no means sure that it was a pleasant one.  But if it pleased
+Dixen to be responsible for her dignity and propriety, she would not
+object, at least on this occasion.
+
+So away they went through the streets first, and then round the
+mountain, to the great enjoyment of them all.  Not one of them enjoyed
+it less, and Dixen I am assured enjoyed it all the more, that they met
+Mrs Ascot not far from the house, and knew by the look she gave them
+that she would have liked to turn them back.
+
+"Her smile was out of the wrong side of her mouth," muttered Dixen.  He
+knew that she had ordered the carriage for herself at four, and they
+could not go for her pleasure that afternoon.
+
+"I only hope she will not disturb mama till we come home," said
+Frederica.
+
+The drive was charming, but even Frederica confessed to being a little
+tired when they reached home.  It was five and after.  Madame Ascot met
+them at the door.  It puts the best-tempered people out to be kept
+waiting, and her face was not an agreeable one to see at the moment.
+
+"Did you not understand that I said four?" asked she sharply.
+
+"Miss Frederica," began Dixen, touching his hat to the young lady.
+
+"Did I not say four?" repeated Mrs Ascot.
+
+"But, madame, it would have been quite impossible.  We did not leave
+home till nearly three," said Tessie.
+
+"Don't let it happen again," said Mrs Ascot; taking no notice of the
+child.
+
+Frederica was patting her favourites, calling them, all sorts of pet
+names.  She turned as Mrs Ascot attempted to pass her.
+
+"It is a pity, madame.  You should have sent, for a carriage.  It is
+quite impossible that the ponies should be taken out again to-night, you
+know," she added as Mrs Ascot seemed to be preparing to enter the
+carriage.  It is likely madame would have proved it quite possible, had
+not Mr Vane entered the garden at the moment Tessie ran down the steps
+to meet him.
+
+"Oh, papa, we are to have a whole week of holidays.  Are you not glad?"
+
+"Papa, I am so sorry we did not drive round by the office and take you
+up.  I thought you must have been home.  Yes, they are rather warm, and
+tired too, but they will be none the worse, will they, Dixen?  And I am
+to drive mama every fine day and you must come too, papa.  I shall be
+charmed to drive you."
+
+Mr Vane laughed.
+
+"My neck is too valuable," said he:
+
+"Not more valuable than mama's; and we can take Dixen if you are afraid.
+Now you must be kind to them, Dixen, and rub them well down," added
+she, as the old man prepared to lead them away.
+
+"Never fear, Miss Frederica," said Dixen.
+
+"But I thought Mrs Ascot was going out;" said Mr Vane.
+
+"It is too late now," said that lady angrily.
+
+"Quite too late, and the ponies are tired.  It is quite impossible,"
+said Tessie, with irritating dignity.
+
+"All right," said Mr Vane, indifferently.
+
+"Papa, we are going to have a party in the drawing-room to-night.  We
+are all going, and mama and Selina and you must come too, just after
+dinner.  Will you come, papa?" pleaded both girls, hanging on his arms.
+
+"Certainly, with great pleasure," said their father, pleased to be thus
+entreated; "but you must let me go now."
+
+"It is not summer to madame to-night," whispered Tessie, laughing.
+
+"We will invite her to our party, and that will comfort her," said her
+sister, and then she went upstairs to give private instructions to the
+boys' maid, that they were not to be put to bed at their usual early
+hour.
+
+Mrs Ascot did not honour them with her presence, but the party was very
+successful notwithstanding.  Mr and Mrs Vane were becoming quite
+indifferent to each other by this time; that is to say, no part of the
+happiness of either was of the other's giving.  Mrs Vane was long past
+resenting the open indifference that had hurt her so much at first, and
+her husband never brought so much brightness with him in his brief
+visits, as to cause her to regret his absence very bitterly.  She had
+quite resigned herself to the knowledge that it could not be otherwise
+now.
+
+Still they had one interest in common.  They cared for their children,
+each in a different way, and took a little pleasure in each other's
+society when their children were with them.  Mr Vane was not a fond
+father, but his children were pretty and bright, and he had the selfish
+man's satisfaction in the possession of what other people admired.  They
+were fond of him, and not in the least afraid of him.  He never reproved
+or punished them, and was rarely impatient with them, for they were
+never long enough in his presence to weary him, or to interfere in any
+way with his comfort.  So when the girls welcomed him to the
+drawing-room, he was quite prepared to enjoy an hour or two with them.
+
+They all enjoyed it.  They had much to say for awhile, and then they
+danced and sang, that is, the little boys danced with Tessie, and then
+they all sang, and doubtless a much larger and more discriminating
+audience would have been delighted with this part of the entertainment;
+for they all had sweet voices, especially Selina, and her sisters had
+been well taught; and two hours passed away very quickly, Mr Vane
+thought.
+
+After the little boys went to bed, the conversation somehow turned again
+on the subject of Frederica's young-ladyhood, and she once more
+suggested the question whether she had not learned "enough of things,"
+and whether it was not time that she were leaving school.
+
+"For indeed, papa, I have gone through all the books the girls ever go
+through at Mrs Glencairn's, and she has given me quite new books
+lately, French history, and a book about animals; but I could read these
+just as well at home."
+
+"How very clever you must be!" said her father.
+
+"No, papa, not particularly clever? at least, cleverness has nothing to
+do with it.  But you know their French takes the other girls for ever to
+learn, and French is nothing to us who speak it at home.  So I have just
+the dictation now, and learning poetry and easy things like that.
+Indeed, I think it is just wasting money for me to go longer to school,"
+added she, instinctively feeling that that argument her father might be
+brought to consider.
+
+"I am afraid it would lead to wasting much more if you were to leave
+school," said her father, laughing.  "To be sure you are such a child
+you could not be taken into society for a while yet, school or no
+school."
+
+"Oh! as to that, I am in no haste about going into society; I only wish
+to be at home to take care of mama and Selina.  Would it not be nice,
+mama?"
+
+"It would not be nice for me to be left at school alone," said Tessie;
+"and as for you, I am afraid you would not have everything your own way.
+Madame Ascot would spoil your pleasure a little."
+
+"Oh! we could dispense with Mrs Ascot, if I were at home," said
+Frederica with dignity.  "I could take charge of the house, and make
+less fuss about it than she does.  Papa, won't you take it into your
+serious consideration?  I have had enough of school."
+
+"You have had enough of Mrs Glencairn I daresay.  I think I must take
+into serious consideration whether it will not be better to send you to
+England for a year or two.  I think it is the best thing I can do for
+you."
+
+That was the last word spoken on the subject Mrs Vane was too startled
+by her husband's words to reply to them, and she touched Selina's lips
+to stay the exclamation that rose to them.  Frederica and Theresa
+exchanged looks of dismay, but admonished by a look from their mother,
+neither of them spoke, and in a little time their father bade them
+good-night and went out.
+
+"He did not mean anything, mama," said Frederica.
+
+"He had not thought of it a minute before he said it, and he will forget
+it in a day.  He often does forget things," said Tessie.
+
+"We must not say anything to make him remember it," said their mother;
+"and for the present we may hear no more about it."
+
+"And I must stay at school," said Frederica, pouting a little.  "Mama,
+you don't know how nice it would be for you and Lina, if I were always
+at home."
+
+"I can imagine it, dear.  But we will not speak of it, lest I should
+have to lose you altogether for years to come."
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+The happy holidays passed all too soon away, and it was not till the
+very last of them that Frederica went with her bundle of papers to the
+office of Mr St. Cyr.
+
+"Mama could write a note and send Dixen, of course," said she to
+Theresa.  "But in a matter so troublesome every care should be taken,
+and I shall go myself."
+
+She almost wished she had not, however, when she reached his house.  The
+outer door was standing open, and instead of ascending a step or two as
+to most other houses in the street, one went down a step to the
+threshold, and when that was passed, the dark and gloomy hall looked not
+at all inviting to Frederica's eyes.  It was too late to think of
+running away now, however, and she sat down in the dingy outer office to
+wait till her name was taken in to Mr St. Cyr.  Her courage revived
+when he came out to her; for he welcomed her warmly, and asked her into
+his private office with great ceremony, quite as if she had been a
+grownup young lady, she told Theresa afterwards.
+
+He took the papers, which the made haste to present as an excuse for her
+coming, and examined them carefully for a minute or two.  He nodded his
+head and shrugged his shoulders, and said mademoiselle should have no
+more trouble with them, unless he were much mistaken.  And then
+Frederica knew that the right thing for her to do would be to rise and
+thank him, and go away.  But she did not.  She sat looking round the dim
+room upon the numberless shelves and drawers and pigeon-holes, and then
+through the dusty window into a narrow court shut in by high Walls--as
+dismal a place as one could imagine.  Her eyes were very grave when they
+came back again to Mr St. Cyr's face.
+
+"Well, my little cousin, what do you think of it all?" asked he.  "Do
+you live here always, Mr St. Cyr?"
+
+"Yes; here by day, and upstairs at night."
+
+"And do you live alone?  Have you no one else in this house?"
+
+"I have old Babette, whom you saw at the door."
+
+"And no one else?"
+
+"Is not that enough?"
+
+"And has there never been any one else?  And are you happy here?" asked
+Frederica, wonder struggling with the gravity in her face.
+
+"Ah, well! as to that--like the rest of the world, I suppose," said Mr
+St. Cyr, with his wonderful shrug; but there came a look of pain over
+his face that startled the little girl, and made her wish that she had
+gone away before, so she rose hastily, and said,--
+
+"Adieu--and--pardon me, Cousin Cyprien."
+
+"To meet soon, my little cousin," said he, bowing over her offered hand,
+"as if I were quite grown up," thought Frederica again, in the midst of
+her confusion.
+
+He went with her through the outer room and through the dim hall to the
+street door, and then a new thought seemed to strike him.
+
+"You will think I am a wicked old spider sitting here in the dark to
+catch unwary flies, if I let you go so.  You shall come upstairs to see
+that the sun shines here too, and that I am not altogether unlike my
+fellow-men, though I am quite alone.  Come upstairs, my child."
+
+Frederica gave one glance upward, and another into the sunny street.
+She would much rather have gone away, but Mr St. Cyr was half-way up by
+this time, and so she could only follow.  The stairs were as dim as the
+hall, and she saw nothing distinctly till she found herself in a large
+but not very lofty room.  Mr St. Cyr drew aside the heavy curtains, and
+let in the sunshine.
+
+"And now you shall sit here till I see what my Babette can find for your
+refreshment;" said he.
+
+There were a great many beautiful things in the room.  Though the
+furniture _was_ dark and old-fashioned, it was very rich and handsome of
+its kind.  The curtains were of the richest damask, of a shade between
+crimson and brown, and the carpet was of the same colours, and so thick
+and soft that never a foot-fall could be heard in the room.  There were
+vases and other ornaments on the mantel-piece, and a quaintly carved
+cabinet opposite, whose open doors showed many strange and beautiful
+things.  There were pictures on the walls which made Frederica think of
+the great churches in which she had sometimes been.
+
+It was not a pleasant room, notwithstanding all these beautiful things;
+but quite as gloomy, though in a different way, as the office
+downstairs.  She did not move about to examine any of them, but sat
+looking at a lovely picture of a woman with a child in her arms, over
+which the morning sunshine fell.  By-and-by Mr St. Cyr came in,
+followed by a little old woman in an odd dress, who carried a silver
+tray in her hand.  On the tray was a china plate, with a bunch of
+grapes, which she set down on a little table at her master's bidding,
+and then left the room.
+
+"And so you do not think it well to be alone, my little cousin," said
+Mr St. Cyr, when he had given the grapes into Frederica's hand.  "Will
+you not come and stay with me then?"
+
+Frederica did not answer for a moment.  "You have learned enough of
+things you know," said he, with his odd smile.  "If we can persuade Mr
+Vane to let you leave school, will you come and stay here with me?"
+
+Frederica shook her head.
+
+"I could not leave mama.  She needs me."
+
+"But she has your sisters, and I am quite alone.  Your mother used to
+come here when she was a child."
+
+"Did she?  Yes, she told us so.  That must have been a long time ago."
+
+"A long time ago!  And so you will not come?"
+
+"Papa says he will send me home to England to school for a year or two,
+after I am done with Mrs Glencairn."
+
+"And would you like that?"
+
+"No, not at all.  Mama would miss me so much, and Selina.  But I don't
+intend to make myself unhappy about it.  Very likely papa may forget all
+about it again."
+
+"He forgets with ease some things," said Mr St. Cyr: "let us hope he
+may forget this."
+
+"I should not like to go, because of mama," repeated Frederica.
+
+"And that is a good reason why you will not come and stay with me.  Ah,
+well!  I do not blame you.  This is not the place for a bright little
+flower like you to bloom in.  I must still be alone, I suppose."
+
+"But I will come sometimes and see you, and so will Tessie, if you would
+like us to do so," said Frederica, rising to go: "and I shall certainly
+come if I fall into any more troubles.  You said I was to do so, did you
+not, Cousin Cyprien?"
+
+"Surely, I shall expect you."
+
+"And I have come already with these tiresome papers.  And ah!  I had
+forgotten.  There were several things I wished to say about them."
+
+"You need not say them," said Mr St. Cyr: "I shall understand them
+perfectly, I do not doubt, and they shall not trouble you any more, nor
+your mama either.  I only wish all her troubles could be as easily ended
+as these shall be."
+
+"But, Mr St. Cyr," said Frederica, pausing at the door, and growing
+very red, "mama does not wish that you should pay these things.  Has not
+mama enough of money?"
+
+"Assuredly, she has ample means.  I have no thought of paying these
+debts.  Do not alarm yourself."
+
+"You are not angry with me, are you, Cousin Cyprien?" asked Frederica,
+wistfully.
+
+"Angry!  By no means, my little cousin.  Why should I be angry?  And
+now, remember you are to come again, you and your sister.  Ah! how
+bright the sunshine is!" added he, as he opened the door.
+
+Yes, it was almost dazzling at first, after the dimness within.
+Frederica walked slowly home, not able, even in the bright sunshine, to
+shake _off_ the quieting influence of the old man's solitary home.
+
+"I wonder why it seemed so strange?" said she to herself, "it must have
+been the silence.  I wonder if any other voice is ever heard in that
+room.  He must have visitors.  And mama used to go there when she was a
+little girl, with grandpapa, I suppose.  If I were to do anything wrong,
+or were afraid of an enemy, I think I would go there to hide myself.
+But to live there always!--no, I could not do that; it is too silent and
+sad."
+
+"Mama," she asked that night when she had told them of her visit, "was
+it always so still and gloomy at Cousin Cyprien's when you used to go
+there?  Was he always alone in those days?"
+
+"I do not remember it as gloomy or silent.  Mr St. Cyr's mother lived
+there then, and there were a great many beautiful things in the house.
+His brother was there too sometimes, but he was not a cheerful person."
+
+"There are beautiful things there now.  The cabinet is full of them, and
+there are the pictures on the walls," and she went on to name other
+things she had seen: "but still I wonder that he can content himself
+there, it is so solitary and silent."
+
+"Mama," said Tessie, "I don't think it says much for Fred's good sense
+that she should talk in that way about Mr St. Cyr and his home.  Very
+likely there are crowds of visitors there every night, though there was
+no one there then."  Frederica shook her head.  "No, you would not say
+so if you went there.  Only very old people or shadows could ever be
+content there."
+
+"Mama, listen to her!  Is she sensible?"
+
+"Well, perhaps it is foolish," said Frederica candidly.  "But all the
+same I cannot help being sorry for Cousin Cyprien.  What does he take
+pleasure in, mama?"
+
+"My dear, a man like Mr St. Cyr has many sources of interest and
+pleasure that a young girl like you cannot be supposed to know anything
+about, or even to understand, if you knew them.  I do not think he needs
+your pity or sympathy very much.  He is very religious, I believe."
+
+"And religion is enough to content some people," said Tessie flippantly.
+"You know you told me the other day that Miss Baines' religion made her
+quite patient and happy, even when she was in great suffering, and not
+afraid even of death; and perhaps it suits Mr St. Cyr to be religious
+too."
+
+"Yes; but then his religion must be quite different from Miss Baines'."
+
+"Oh, well! it may be just as good, or it may suit him just as well.  I
+think you are very foolish, and so does Selina."
+
+But Selina said nothing.  She listened always to her sister's talk, and
+"thought about it afterwards," as Tessie had said.  Now she was
+repeating to herself, "Patient and happy even in great suffering; that
+must be a good and beautiful thing."  And many thoughts did she give to
+Miss Baines and her sufferings, and her patience, before she saw her
+sisters again.
+
+It was a beautiful sight, if there had been anyone to see it--the mother
+and her daughters as they sat there together on that last night before
+Frederica and Theresa went back to school.  And yet it would have been a
+sorrowful sight to one who knew their history and their affairs, and who
+loved them and wished them well.  For, except the dear love they bore to
+one another, there was not a single element of permanence in the
+happiness they enjoyed together.
+
+That the hour of separation was drawing near, none who looked in Mrs
+Vane's face could fail to see.  It was coming slowly, so slowly that
+she, who had almost forgotten what it was to be quite well and free from
+pain, had come to think that her illness was not of a kind that sooner
+or later ends in death.  The thought that it might be so--that she must
+leave her children, young, without experience, every danger doubled by
+their own beauty and their grandfather's wealth, was a very painful one,
+but she put it from her, whenever it could be put away.  Death was
+terrible to think of for their sakes.  Yes, and terrible for herself
+too; for of the hope which sustains the Christian alike in life and in
+death, she knew nothing.
+
+It is difficult to conceive of ignorance so utter as hers on all
+religious subjects.  Her mother had not lived long enough to teach her
+the little that she herself understood of the religion of her people,
+and her father had had no religion.  During the first years of her
+married life, she had sometimes gone to church with her husband, but she
+had never been much interested in what she heard, or tried to understand
+it.  It had been a mere form with her; as indeed it had been always with
+her husband.  She knew nothing of the way in which a sinner must be
+prepared for death, that must come some time, and which might be near,
+and there were times when the thought of this made her afraid.
+
+Her daughters knew little more than she did.  When the idea of sending
+them to school was first proposed, Mrs Ascot desired that it should be
+to one of the convents of the city, and probably there they would have
+been sent, had not Mr St. Cyr earnestly desired it too.  His wish was
+enough to make Mr Vane decide against it, so bitter was his dislike,
+and they were sent to Mrs Glencairn's instead.  Their religions
+teaching while there was, at their father's request, committed to the
+charge of the English teacher, Miss Pardie, and her instructions were
+not of a kind to make much impression on the minds of volatile girls,
+with whom she was not a favourite.  The Scripture lessons which they
+shared with the other pupils, were too often learned and repeated as a
+task, and forgotten.
+
+So neither the mother nor the children had any knowledge of the true way
+to find happiness, either in this world or the next.  A vague dread and
+fear had come to Mrs Vane now and then during all the years of her
+illness, but she had tried to put them from her.  They had come oftener
+of late, but she strove to put them from her still.
+
+"Patient and happy in the midst of great suffering, and not afraid even
+of death."  Many, many times in the days when the two girls had gone,
+and she was left to the quiet of their solitary days, did these words
+come back to her again.
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+The reluctance with which the sisters always left home to return to
+school, was usually forgotten by them as soon as they found themselves
+among their companions, and busy with their lessons again.  But this
+time it was not so with Frederica.  She was restless and unhappy,
+finding it quite impossible to interest herself in her school-work, or
+to settle quietly to anything.
+
+It was all the more difficult for her to do so, that she was in few
+regular classes in the school.  It was quite true as she had told her
+father, she had gone through and through all the books generally used by
+Mrs Glencairn's pupils.  This was not saying much, for few of the girls
+stayed in school so long as they ought to have done--none had been so
+long as Frederica.  Under the guidance of Miss Robina Glencairn, a
+clever and cultivated woman, she had gone far beyond the usual routine
+of school lessons, and had taken much pleasure in her reading, though
+she had read alone, but she could not interest herself in it now.  It
+seemed foolish and wrong for her to be at school, learning things that
+she could very well do without, when her mother and Selina needed her so
+much at home.  They _did_ need her, she was sure; and she grew irritable
+and impatient under the restraint that kept her from them, till she was
+in danger, her sister told her, of losing the reputation for politeness
+and amiability, which she had been all those years acquiring.
+
+"And where is the good of fretting?  If you can end it at the summer
+holidays, you may be very glad.  You may be sure that Prickly Polly will
+not hear of your coming home just now.  If I were you, I would learn the
+dictionary from the beginning to the end, or do something else to pass
+the time.  Or you might ask Miss Robina for a story-book.  She will give
+you one--you are such a pet of hers, I'm sure."
+
+"It wouldn't be a bad idea," said Frederica.
+
+There was to be no walking that day, because of the rain, and her book
+would have been little pleasure to her in the large schoolroom, where
+the girls usually passed the recreation hour on rainy days.  But she
+knew where to find a refuge, to which, without special permission, even
+Tessie could not follow her.  Frederica, because of Miss Robina's
+favour, and for some other reasons, was permitted to go to it if she
+chose, provided her presence was not required elsewhere.  So she was
+soon knocking at the door of a room at the head of a dim staircase that
+led to no other room in the house.
+
+"May I come in, Mistress Campbell?" said she, pausing on the threshold.
+
+"Is it you, missy?" said a voice from behind a great basket of clothes
+that was standing on the floor.  "Who would have expected to see you at
+this hour?  Have you no' got the play?  It canna be that you have a
+lesson to get over again!"
+
+"No," said Frederica.  "This is not a lesson book.  But I have got a
+headache, and I am cross, and I can't be bothered with the girls; but I
+shall be very quiet and good, and not be in the way, if you will let me
+stay."
+
+"Well, if you'll promise no' to fash me with your foolish talk while I
+am busy, you may stay."
+
+"Shall I fash you here?" said Frederica, laughing, and springing up into
+the wide seat of one of the large dormer windows by which the room was
+lighted.
+
+"Whisht now, and no' put me out of my count," said Mistress Campbell.
+
+She was sitting on a low stool, sorting and laying out on large trays at
+her side the clothes of pupils and teachers that had just come up from
+the laundress, a work which needed both patience and care, and Frederica
+knew that she must not be disturbed.  Instead of opening her book, she
+sat for a moment watching her.  She was a small, bowed woman, crippled
+by rheumatism, with a thin brown face, and deep-set, sharp, grey eyes.
+She wore a dark linsey gown, with a shawl of Campbell tartan over her
+shoulders, and she had a "mutch" with two or three rows of stiff borders
+on her head.  She sung at her work, or rather chanted an old ballad
+which Frederica had heard before; but every now and then, as she counted
+and folded, and laid the different garments aside, she put their numbers
+and the names of their owners, and her thoughts about them, into the
+tune, without a pause; and Frederica knew by this that she had quite
+forgotten her presence in the room.
+
+"A droll little person," she called her to herself, and then she thought
+how strange a being "old Eppie" would seem to her mama and Selina, and
+wondered how it was that she had never told them about her.  She had
+mentioned her to them, but now she looked at her, and around the low,
+wide room, with eyes that meant to see everything for their benefit.  It
+was a large room, which yet did not seem very large, because of the many
+things crowded into it, and because of the sloping roof which on three
+sides came almost to the floor.  It was the attic of the wing in which
+the large classroom and dining-room were.  The walls were roughly
+plastered and whitewashed, and underneath were arranged old bureaux and
+boxes and chests of drawers, filled with such clothing as was not often
+needed, and under Eppie's particular care.  Besides these, there were
+articles of furniture, broken or out of use, such as will accumulate in
+a house where many people live--chairs and tables, pictures, and faded
+ornaments of all kinds.
+
+There was a bed at that side of the room where the roof did not slope,
+but at this moment it was almost hidden by the great piles of linen
+arranged upon it.  There was a small open stove, in which a coal fire
+smouldered, and over that part of the floor which was unencumbered by
+furniture a faded carpet was spread.  There was not one beautiful thing
+in the room, Frederica thought, except a rose tree covered with buds and
+blossoms, that stood in the window opposite.
+
+The windows were pleasant, but from them Eppie could only see the sky,
+they were so high above her.  From the one on the high seat of which she
+sat, Frederica could see thousands and thousands of city roofs, with
+bits of open space here and there, and the river beyond.  But it was not
+a fair sight under drizzling rain and a leaden sky, and so she turned
+her eyes into the room again.  Order was gradually coming out of the
+confusion of the innumerable white garments by which the little old
+woman had been surrounded.  One after another the great trays were
+carried and emptied, into the many drawers beneath the eaves; and then
+coming back to place her empty baskets in a recess made beneath the high
+window, Eppie saw Frederica.
+
+"Preserve us a' lassie!  I had no mind o' your being here.  It is time
+for playing yourself now.  Why should you be here at this hour?"
+
+"I don't care to play with children any more," said Frederica gravely.
+
+"Eh, sirs!  You'll be growing ower-womanly for the like of that, I
+suppose.  Weel, weel!  But you shouldna sit so quiet as to make me
+forget that you are here.  I might be saying things that it wouldna be
+wise to say in your hearing.  Are you no coming down out of that?"
+
+"Yes, I am coming, Mrs Campbell.  Don't you ever get tired of this
+place?  Is it not awfully dull?"
+
+"Dull!" repeated Eppie, "and tired of it!  Is it this chamber you mean?
+Where could I go if I tired of it?  I am very thankful to bide in it, I
+can tell you."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so.  But don't you get tired of it all the same?  What
+do you look forward to?  There is nothing in your life but mending, and
+keeping count, and--"
+
+"Hear the disrespectful lassie!  Folding and keeping count, said she.
+That's but for one day in the week.  The mending whiles takes two or
+three, and there's many a thing besides that I canna be speaking to the
+likes of you about."
+
+"Yes; but not pleasant things, Eppie."
+
+"Pleasant things, quo' she!  They're my duty.  What other would I hae?"
+
+"But, Mistress Campbell, dear, if I thought I had to live all my life
+here, even in this house, I should be miserable."
+
+"But then it's no your duty to live here all your life, and that makes
+the difference.  If I were to make myself miserable as you call it, it
+would be for fear that I mightna get leave to bide here all my life, but
+I daresay it will be time enough to fret when I'm bidden go."
+
+"That will never be.  What would Mrs Glencairn and Miss Robina do
+without you?"
+
+"There's no telling," said Eppie, nodding her head many times; "but
+we'll say no more about it.  Are you no coming down from that cold
+window when I bid you?"
+
+"Yes, I'm coming.  But, Eppie, how can you be content?  Are your father
+and mother dead?  Have you any brothers and sisters?  Will it be just
+the same all your life till you die?"
+
+"Now, missy, come down this moment when I bid you.  That's an
+unwholesome book you've been reading, to put thoughts like that into
+your mind.  It's no me that's like to grow discontented, it's you.  And
+I was just thinking of inviting you to tea."
+
+Frederica sprang down from the window so suddenly as to make the old
+woman start.
+
+"Oh, do, Eppie dear," cried she eagerly, "that is just the thing I
+should like.  I want to speak to you, and I don't want to go down to
+that rubbishing history; and I'll read to you.  I have not read a page
+yet, and it's a very nice book they say."
+
+"Is it a story book?  But I would far rather hear about the wee beasties
+out of your lesson book.  And I'm no just sure that Miss Robina would be
+pleased that you should take tea with me so soon again, and I'm no sure
+that I hae scones enew."
+
+"Oh!  Miss Robina will be sure to let me; and never mind the scones.
+I'll go down for whatever we need, and I'll ask Miss Robina.  Let me
+stir the fire."
+
+Frederica had forgotten the gloomy day, and the nun, and all imaginable
+subjects of discontent.  She urged her petition eagerly; for she knew
+that Eppie liked to be entreated.
+
+"Let be the fire, missy.  You'll do mischief, and spoil your hands.  You
+may bide if you get leave.  But I doubt your sister will no be well
+pleased.  It is `making fish o' the one and flesh o' the other,' I
+doubt."
+
+But Frederica did not stay to listen.  It was a great honour and an
+exceptional one, to be asked to tea by Mrs Campbell.  No other girl now
+in school, except Tessie and one or two of the elder pupils, had ever
+been asked to drink tea in the garret.  Except for the fun of the thing,
+or for the sake of a change from the dreary school routine, few of them
+would have cared to do so.  For Eppie was only a little old woman, bowed
+and lame, who even in her best days had only been a sort of upper
+servant in Mrs Glencairn's house.  The present race of girls did not
+often see her.  Some of them had never seen her; for her daily journey
+to the lower part of the house to get what she needed was accomplished
+with much labour and effort at time when the girls were sure to be in
+school.
+
+Frederica was often in the garret.  Miss Robina, whose pet, as Tessie
+had said, she was, seldom refused her permission when she wished to
+escape from the other girls, few of whose lessons she shared, either for
+work or amusement.  But taking tea there was another matter; and
+Frederica, rather tired of being dismal, entered eagerly into the
+preparations.  Miss Robina did not object; on the contrary, she was very
+glad to let her have the pleasure, heartily wishing that she might share
+it.  She did share it for a little while, and added to it.  For she came
+upstairs, carrying in her own hands a tray, on which were some fresh
+"scones" and a bit of "paddie," each wrapped up in a snowy napkin, as
+was absolutely necessary to their perfection.  She could not stay long--
+only long enough to be thanked and petted, and called "bonny bird" and
+"good bairn" by Mistress Campbell.  She had a beautiful and good face,
+though it was rather pale and tired-looking, Frederica thought, as she
+sat for a moment smiling in the flickering firelight; and the first
+thing she said, when she and Eppie were left alone, was,--
+
+"How pretty and nice Miss Robina is!  What a pity it is that she has to
+keep a school?"
+
+To this no reply was given.
+
+"It must be so tiresome to do the same thing over and over again every
+day of the year," added she.
+
+"There are worse things than that in Miss Robina's life, I'm thinking,"
+said Eppie gravely.
+
+"Are there?  Tell me about them," said Frederica, eager for a story.
+
+"I doubt you are no speaking with your usual discretion," said Mistress
+Campbell gravely.  "We'll take our tea, and not meddle with what doesna
+concern us.  There are few lives in which there are no troubles.  Let us
+be thankful for our mercies."
+
+It was a very nice tea.  Scones and fresh butter and honey, to say
+nothing of "paddies" and other nice things.  And such delicious tea made
+in a funny little black teapot with a broken spout.  Everything was
+charming, Frederica thought and declared.  The novelty would have made
+it charming to her, though there had been nothing else to do so.  They
+did not fall out of talk.  Eppie asked questions about the holidays they
+had enjoyed; and entered with great interest into all the details
+Frederica gave her about her mother and Selina, and the drives they had
+had, and all they had enjoyed together.  She grew grave as she went on
+to tell that her mother was not strong, but easily tired and troubled,
+and to wish that she could leave school, and stay at home with her
+always.  Eppie was grave too, and occupied with her own thoughts for a
+little while; and as Frederica sat looking into the fire in silence, the
+unhappy feeling that had passed away in the interest of tea-drinking in
+such pleasant circumstances came back again.
+
+"Are you no going to wash the cups?" asked Eppie in a little.
+
+This was always in the evening's entertainment, and to-night it was
+happily accomplished, inasmuch as it dispelled the cloud which had hung
+for a moment over them.
+
+"It must be nice to have things to do--useful things I mean," said
+Frederica.
+
+"I doubt it is a liberty in me to let you wash my cups, or even to ask
+you to your tea," said Eppie.  "For you are no longer the wee missy that
+came creeping up the stairs the first day you came to the school.  You
+are growing a young lady now."
+
+"That is just what I was telling mama," said Frederica eagerly.  "I
+ought to have done with school now, and stay at home, ought I not?  I
+don't suppose I should wash cups; but there are a great many things I
+could do for mama and Lina.  Do you really think I am growing a young
+lady, Eppie?  I am such a little thing, you know," said Frederica; "but
+I am nearly fifteen."
+
+An odd smile flickered for a moment on Eppie's small wrinkled face.
+
+"You needna be in any great hurry about being a young leddy.  I doubt
+you're but a bairn to the most o' folk yet," said she.
+
+"Not for myself--I am in no hurry to be grown up for myself; but for
+mama's sake."
+
+"But there must be a heap o' things for you to learn yet," said Eppie
+gravely.  "There's time enough."
+
+"But I don't see the good of learning so many things, and I have gone
+through all the books the girls learn here.  And mama does need me, I am
+sure of that."
+
+Then Eppie went on to say how important the season of youth is, and how
+she had no doubt but Mrs Vane would rather deny herself the happiness
+of her little daughters' company for the sake of having them become wise
+and accomplished women, and so on.  But Frederica did not seem to be
+noticing what she was saying; for she asked suddenly,--
+
+"Eppie, do you know where Miss Baines is now?  Will she ever come back
+again, do you think?"
+
+Eppie shook her head.
+
+"Have you not heard?  She is dead, my dear."
+
+"Dead!" repeated Frederica.
+
+"Yes.  She has gone to a better world, I have little doubt."
+
+"To heaven!"
+
+"Ay, I am sure of it, as far as a body can be sure of such a thing.  She
+was a good woman.  She had some curious notions about things, but she
+was a good woman."
+
+"She was very religious," said Frederica.
+
+"Yes, she was religious.  She was a good woman."
+
+"But then there are so many kinds of religion," said Frederica.
+
+"But there is but one right kind I doubt," said Mistress Campbell
+gravely.
+
+"And Miss Baines' was the right kind?  It made her patient and gentle
+with us girls, even when we were naughty.  And after her fall, when she
+suffered so much, it made her patient to bear her pain.  And once she
+told me that she was not afraid to die.  I wish I had asked her more
+about it.  I don't know, but I am almost sure mama would be afraid to
+die."
+
+Eppie gave her a startled glance; but Frederica did not look as though
+she had said anything to excite surprise.
+
+"But your mama is a good woman.  I have always heard you say that."
+
+"Yes.  She is very good and dear.  But then we have no religion in our
+house--except Mrs Ascot; and I am afraid hers is not the right kind.
+It is _not_ at all like Miss Baines', at any rate.  But then how is one
+to know?"
+
+"But I hope there are good people among all kinds," said Eppie, not
+knowing very well what to say.
+
+"Yes.  Mr St. Cyr is good, though Mrs Ascot is not.  That is true.
+And it does not matter so much, so that we have a religion of some kind.
+Though, of course, one would wish to have the best."
+
+"You are wrong there, missy.  It matters much.  And you should be
+thankful that you were sent here to the school, where the Bible is read,
+and where you may learn your duty to God and man.  That is the best
+religion."
+
+"But I have not learned it very well," I fear.
+
+"Maybe that is your own fault.  I have heard you say that you are not
+very fond of going to the kirk and reading your Bible."
+
+"That is quite true.  And that is the right way, is it?  Were you fond
+of going to the kirk when you were young?  We go to the church, you
+know."
+
+"I would be very thankful to be able to go to the kirk," said Eppie
+evasively:
+
+"And is your religion just like Miss Baines'?  Hers must have been
+right, because it made her happy when she was in great trouble, and it
+made her not afraid to die.  Is yours the same, Mistress Campbell?"
+
+Eppie looked at her, wondering a little at her persistency, and then she
+said, "Ay is it--the very same.  The same in kind, though not in degree.
+Miss Baines was a good woman, a far better woman than the like of me."
+
+"Tell me about it," said Frederica.
+
+Mistress Campbell looked sadly at a loss.
+
+"How did they teach you to be religious when you were young?"
+
+"We were taught to read our Bibles and to say the catechism, and to go
+to the kirk.  And my father had worship morning and evening, and we were
+bidden do our duty, and be content with our lot."
+
+Eppie hesitated, by no means satisfied with her attempt to make the
+matter clear, and then she said,--
+
+"To be religious is to be good, and to do our duty to God and our
+fellow-creatures.  Don't you mind what the Bible says?  `Thou shalt love
+the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself.'  And
+in another place it says, `Pure religion and undefiled is this, to visit
+the fatherless and the widow in their affliction.'  That is religion,"
+said Eppie, with a pleased sense of having got well out of a difficulty.
+
+Frederica nodded.
+
+"Yes, I have read that.  That is the way is it?  Do good people all do
+that?  But then they must begin at the very beginning of their lives."
+
+Eppie shook her head.
+
+"We are poor imperfect creatures at the best," said she.  "But God's
+ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts.  We are
+unprofitable servants.  If we got what we deserve, it would go ill with
+us.  But He is merciful and gracious, and full of compassion, and of
+tender mercy."
+
+Frederica considered gravely for a little while.
+
+"And is that all?  I think I could manage to do all that, except perhaps
+to love my neighbour as myself," said she, thinking of Prickly Polly.
+
+"But you would need to do that too, I doubt," said Eppie, not wishing to
+make religion seem a thing too easy.  "And you would need to say your
+prayers, for the best of us need to be forgiven, and the strongest and
+wisest need to be helped and guided, and the Lord is good."
+
+"And if I don't know very well at first.  He will help me.  But, Eppie
+dear, I think Miss Baines must have had something more than this.  I
+wish I had asked her about it," said Frederica, regarding the old woman
+with wistful eyes.
+
+"Dear me, lassie," said Eppie, at a loss what to say to her; "what has
+putten such like thoughts into your head? you are not an ill bairn, and
+you will learn as you grow older.  You have no call to vex yourself with
+such thoughts more than usual."
+
+"But, Eppie, it is for mama.  She is ill, and suffers a great deal, and
+she has only Selina with her; and if I only knew what made Miss Baines
+so happy, I could tell mama.  But mama could not begin at the beginning,
+and go to church, and visit poor and sick people.  There must be some
+other away for her.  For, Eppie, I am almost sure that mama would be
+afraid to die."
+
+There were no tears in the great wistful eyes turned towards her, but
+there was something which the old woman found it quite as hard to meet.
+
+"Poor body," murmured she; "the Lord help her!"
+
+"And, Eppie, Miss Baines said something about the Lord Jesus caring for
+her.  And He died, you know.  It is in the service, `Crucified, dead,
+and buried,' and in the Bible there is something about it."
+
+"Surely," said Eppie, eagerly, "that is just it.  We are sinners, both
+by Adam's fall and by actual transgression.  And God sent His Son to die
+in our room and stead.  And we must lippen to Him.  He will save us."
+
+"And it would not make any difference because mama is a Jewess, would
+it?"
+
+"Preserve us a'!  What will the lassie say next?" muttered the
+bewildered Eppie.  "No difference but what would be in her favour, I
+would think.  In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, the Word says,
+and the apostles were bidden begin at Jerusalem," said she, the
+long-forgotten words coming back to her in the exigency of the moment.
+"And they are all to be gathered in, Paul says.  I mind weel my father
+and our minister ay used to pray for the ingathering of the Jews.  No,
+I'm sure it would be in her favour rather than the contrary," repeated
+Eppie confidently, growing more assured as she went on.  "They were a
+grand people, the Jews--God's own chosen people.  They did ill things.
+They killed our Lord, and I canna just reconcile it all, but I'm sure
+the Lord loves them yet."
+
+Frederica did not reply, but sat gazing in among the dying embers in the
+grate.  As she sat watching her abashed but anxious face, a great
+longing to help and counsel her came over the poor old woman's kind
+heart, but there came also sharply a sense of her utter inability to do
+so, a vague but painful doubt whether she had ever seen clearly the way
+of safety herself.
+
+"I'm but a poor ignorant sinfu' woman, my dear bairn," said she humbly;
+"I havna lived up to the little light I have, and it's no for me to
+teach you.  But one thing I can tell you: read your Bible, and ask the
+Lord Himself to teach you, and you'll need no other teaching, or if you
+do He'll provide it.  But see, the fire's near out, and it's more than
+time you were down the stair, and I must go to my bed.  So good night to
+you, and mind your prayers."
+
+"Good night," said Frederica, and she went downstairs pondering many
+things.
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+Attached to the large old-fashioned house in which Mrs Glencairn lived
+were a garden and orchard of very large old apple trees, which now in
+the spring time were full of wonderful possibilities for enjoyment and
+amusement to children who had for the most part been obliged to find
+amusement within doors during the long winter.  And so no wonder that
+Frederica, without whom no game was complete, should forget her serious
+thoughts, and her troubles, and even her mother's doubtful state, unless
+something particularly recalled them to her mind.  She was such a little
+creature, that, though she led the elder girls in their lessons, and was
+indeed far before them, she did not seem to be at all out of place when
+she led the plays and games of the little girls too.
+
+Even in her visits to the garret, with her "Animated Nature" in her
+hand, she and Eppie kept to the safe subject of beasts and birds and
+creeping things, in the discussions into which they fell.  She had taken
+up botany, too, in a less elementary form than had been given her
+before, and her interest was greatly quickened, and her attention
+happily given to it.  And strange to say, Eppie, the recluse of the
+garret, who had not set her foot on a green thing growing beyond the
+orchard for many a year and day, even she gave eager interest and
+stimulus to the girl's pursuit, and with spectacles on nose peered into
+triticums and anemones brought from the mountain, and into apple
+blossoms, and even into dandelions and buttercups gathered in the
+orchard, for want of rarer flowers.
+
+"And what for no," said Eppie, "when Solomon himself, the wisest of
+kings and men, spoke about green growing things from the cedar of
+Lebanon to the hyssop on the wall?  And God made them a'.  They mind me
+of my father's house and the fir belting, and the heather hills beyond.
+And they mind me o' the days o' my youth, that are gone like a blink,"
+added she with a sigh.
+
+"Yes," said Frederica, turning compassionate eyes on the kindly wrinkled
+old face.
+
+"I'm no complainin' you'll understand.  I hae had my day as you'll
+have," said Eppie, nodding her head gently a great many times.  "But I
+was ay fond o' flowers.  I liked to notice their likeness, and their
+difference, though I didna ken that they were a' written down in books.
+Eh! it's just wonderful how true nature is to herself.  That bonny
+yellow flower might be the one that grew on the bush beside my father's
+door, and yon rosebush that Miss Robina brought up the stairs to-day is
+the very marrow o' the one that Sandy Gow the laird's gardener brought
+down and gave to my sister Annie more than fifty years ago.  It's like a
+dream to look back upon."
+
+"But, Eppie, I have often wondered that you only care for one or two
+flowers at a time, when you are so fond of them; you could have quite a
+greenhouse of them in this south window.  I could bring you dozens of
+them," said Frederica.
+
+But Eppie shook her head.
+
+"I tried it, my dear, when sore against my will I had to betake myself
+to this place--a dismal place it seemed for a while.  I tried having
+many flowers.  Miss Isabel was here then, and she and Miss Robina took
+great pains to get me the best and the bonniest.  But I soon saw that it
+wouldna do.  I couldna get them kepit to my mind without troubling
+somebody.  They were ay needing something done, and I couldna even get a
+spadeful of earth without another pair of hands.  I was more helpless
+then than I am now, and even the bringing of water for them up the
+stairs was more than I could ay manage; so I just gave them up; for
+unless a body can do justice to the bonny things, they are more pain
+than pleasure.  And I couldna bide to fash other folk.  So now Miss
+Robina brings me one as it blooms, and I hae been few days without a
+flower all the seven years I have been in this room.  I aye hae my
+wallflowers, and once I had heather, but it didna thrive, and I thought
+a pity to have it dying before my eyes, so I got no more."
+
+It was growing too dark by this time to pore over either books or
+flowers.  Eppie had had her tea, Frederica knew, because she saw the
+tray with the dishes standing near the door, and she knew that she would
+be welcome to stay till the school bell rang again for prayers.  So she
+sat in the window watching the clouds that were still bright, though the
+sun had disappeared.  By-and-by she said,--
+
+"Tell me something that happened when you were young, something that you
+never told me before."
+
+Eppie took up the stocking on which she could work as well in the dark
+as in the light.
+
+"There was many a thing happened to me when I was young that I never
+told anybody, but I might happen on an old story that you have heard
+before, as is the way with old bodies like me.  And I hae no feast o'
+tellin' bits out o' my own life just for folk's diversion."
+
+But Frederica knew that she would have a story for all that; she was not
+so sure that it would be a new one.
+
+"Were there many flowers in your garden when you were a little girl?"
+asked she after a pause.
+
+"Weel! there were na just so many, but eh, missy! they were awfu' bonny
+flowers.  But I mind the flowers among the hills, and by the burn sides
+best.  The names of them?  I canna mind a' the names, and if I could
+they would seem like common flowers to you, but they gave us just a
+wonderful delight.  And there were other things besides the flowers.  We
+got many a day's pleasure out of the rushes by the burn, and the
+brackens in the wood, and we ay had the heather.  And, oh! wasna it a
+bonny sight to see when the summer began to wear over!  Flowers!  High
+above the glen where my father's house stood, there whiles were miles
+and miles o' the purple blossom.  I can see it now when I shut my eyes,"
+said Eppie, leaning back in her chair, and letting her stocking fall
+upon her lap.
+
+"And then there were the daisies that you told me about," suggested
+Frederica in the pause that followed.
+
+"Yes, the gowan, and the blue bell, and many a one beside.  And I hae
+seen the hills in a bleeze o' gold with the yellow broom.  Though a
+broom bush is no' to call a bonny thing, except a bit away.  But a'
+things are bonny to young happy eyes, and I daresay they are bonnier to
+me now, looking back to them over all the long years."
+
+And on she rambled, as she had done many a time before, on the very same
+theme, and if there had been an hour to spare, or if Frederica had been
+inclined, this was the time when she would have asked for a song, and
+the chances were she would have got ten of them chanted in a voice that
+had once been sweet, but which failed now both in sweetness and in
+power.  Frederica always liked the songs, though she did not always like
+the singing, but there was something else in store for her tonight--
+something which she had ceased to expect, a bit out of Eppie's life.
+She knew it was coming when the old woman went on to speak about the
+hills, and the grassy nooks hidden between them, and the days when she
+used to go out with her father, who was a shepherd, among them.
+
+"And I mind one day we were sitting on the lowne side o' a hill, and
+there came over it and down upon us, two lads with packs on their backs,
+and one of them with a book in his hand.  When they saw us, they stopped
+to ask the road to the next town, for they had got in among the morning
+mists, having risen early for their journey, and so had lost their way.
+I mind how they both looked, as well as if I had seen them yesterday,
+and maybe better.  One of them was shame-faced about having lost the
+way, which he said he had been over many a time before; but the other
+only laughed and said it was a good thing to be mistaken whiles, and for
+his part he was glad to lie down and rest.  And so he lay down among the
+heather, and turned a thin fair face to the sky.  He was an English lad,
+I think.  His tongue was English any way.  My father bade me take a
+plaid I had brought with me, and spread it over him, for there was a
+cold breath creeping now and then round the hill; and when I went and
+did what I was bidden, the lad gave me first a surprised look, and then
+a smile that made his eyes and his whole face beautiful.  I see it now,
+though I have hardly thought of it these thirty years," said Eppie with
+a sigh.  "And I mind his deep sweet voice, and the sound of the smooth
+English words he used when he thanked me, and bade me sit down beside
+him, and tell him my name.  I sat down as he bade me, but he took little
+heed of me for a while.  For he looked sore weary and spent with more
+than just the tramp over the hills, and his eyes had a look as if they
+were seeing things far, far away.
+
+"The other was a fine lad too, I daresay, though o' a commoner nature.
+He and my father got very friendly together, he telling and my father
+listening to all they were doing out in the great world, whose voice
+came to our glen, not like a real voice, but like an echo casten back
+from the hills.  And by-and-by the English lad's eyes came back to mine,
+and what he saw in them I canna say, but he gave me the same smile that
+lighted his face in a way that was just wonderful--I can see it now--and
+he bade me look up to the sky, and see a ship that was sailin', sailin'
+away to the west, and what did I think it was carrying there?  There was
+nothing in the sky that I could see, but a long trail of grey cloud,
+with here and there an edge of light upon it, and he only gave a bit
+laugh when I looked back at him again wondering.  And then he plucked a
+wee curled head o' the bracken that grew at his hand, and bade me look
+at it.  Naught could I see but just a bit o' bracken.  I said not a
+word, only looked from it to his fair smiling face.  But then he took
+out of his pouch a case, and out of the case a glass, and put it between
+the bracken and my eyes.  And I thought, surely a great magician had
+come to our hills, for it was a bit o' bracken no longer, but a
+wonderful network of cells, and veins, and feathery fringes, like
+nothing I had ever seen before.  And next it was a bit of brown heather
+he took, and then a nodding bluebell, and then the wing of a May fly
+that had lighted on his hand.
+
+"I looked and looked, and at last I cried out to my father to come and
+see.  Even my father wondered.  Ilken leaf and blade o' grass, and even
+the wee stones that we took from the path were wonderful to see.  And
+then he put the glass on my mother's plaid, and on his own fine kerchief
+of lawn, and bade us see the difference between God's works and man's--
+how poor, and coarse, and common was the best that man could do, and how
+the more and the closer we looked into the works of God, the more worthy
+of admiration we should see them to be.
+
+"And then him, and my father, and the other lad had things to say that I
+couldna make much of.  He was a man of excellent understanding, my
+father.  But just one thing I mind.  It was the English lad that said it
+with a smile, and a great longing in his bonny een.  `It may be,' he
+said, `that when we get home to heaven, our glorified eyes shall see the
+mysteries of beauty hidden in even the least of the things that God has
+made without a glass between.'  And when my father shook his head,
+saying that there was no such word in the Bible, and that there was such
+a thing as being wise above what is written, he smiled, and `Ah well!'
+he said, `our eyes will be opened to see the wonders of grace and the
+beauty of holiness, for we shall see our Lord Himself, and that will be
+enough.'
+
+"I mind the words, because I heard my father telling them to my mother
+that night as they were sitting by the fireside.  They come back to me
+now, as other words come, that I havena thought of for many a year and
+day, a sure sign that I am no' far from the foot o' the brae."
+
+"And was that all?" asked Frederica softly, after a long pause, in which
+Eppie had taken up her knitting again.
+
+"That was all, except that they wouldna go to my father's to bide all
+night, because they were expected elsewhere, they said; and then I ran
+home as my father bade me, and brought them milk and oaten cakes, which
+they ate to their refreshment, doubtless, and to our pleasure, and then
+they went away."
+
+"And who were they?  And did you never see them again?"
+
+"We never saw nor heard of them, though doubtless they crossed our hills
+again.  They were just two lads on their way home from the college in
+the north.  We used whiles to see such, though our glen was a bit out of
+the way for most of them.  But we never saw them again.  It must be
+fifty years and more since then.  It had gone clean out of my head, till
+your flowers and your pleasure in them brought it all back again."
+
+There was nothing heard for a while but the "click, click," of Mistress
+Campbell's "wires," as she went on with her knitting.  The old woman and
+the little girl were thinking their own thoughts.
+
+"Eppie, dear," said Frederica, as she slipped from her high seat to the
+floor, "I like that about `glorified eyes,' and one seeing hidden
+things; I mean things that are hidden from us now."
+
+"Ay, the eyes o' man are never satisfied with seeing, nor his ears with
+hearing," said Eppie: "I doubt that is but a carnal notion o' heaven.
+This is what David says about it--
+
+  "`But as for me, I Thine own face
+      In righteousness shall see;
+  And with Thy likeness when I wake,
+      I satisfied shall be.'"
+
+"Satisfied!" repeated she; "ay, doubtless, they'll be satisfied that win
+there.  But, eh me!  `Strait is the gate, and narrow the way, that leads
+to life,' and I doubt there will be some awfu' disappointments at that
+day."
+
+"If one only knew just what to do," said Frederica gravely.
+
+"Be a good bairn, and ay read your Bible, and mind your prayers," said
+Eppie.  "But there's your bell, and you will need to go."
+
+And so Frederica went downstairs with the grave thoughts that Eppie's
+words had awakened, stirring at her heart again.  She read her Bible as
+Eppie had bidden her, and sometimes she read it with delight, because of
+the elevation of the thoughts and the beauty of the language; but she
+came upon nothing in these readings that touched her heart, or that she
+felt to be suited to her.  She read the Old Testament, as the history of
+her mother's people.  She had been often told of late that she was a
+Jewess in appearance, like her mother, and she took a real interest in
+the history of her people, and began to feel pride in being descended
+from a "nation of heroes."  But pre-occupied with thoughts of this kind,
+she read on from day to day, seeing nothing in the wonderful words she
+read to enlighten her on all that she so much needed, and which she
+believed she so much desired to know.
+
+She listened now with attention to such Bible lessons and readings as
+entered into the regular routine of school work, but the instructions
+connected with them were often of a kind to influence the reason and
+affect the imagination, rather than to touch the heart; and though her
+attention and interest enlarged her knowledge of the letter of
+Scripture, and won her many good marks and the chance of a prize at the
+end of the year, the lessons brought her no answer to the question as to
+which was the right religion, or how one was to get the good of it in
+the time of trouble, as Miss Baines had done.
+
+Indeed, if it had not been for one thing, the grave and anxious thoughts
+that had been for some time occupying her mind might have passed away,
+as they pass from the mind and heart of so many of the young and
+thoughtless, leaving no trace in her life, no influence for good, either
+to herself or to others.  If her mother had been well and happy, if
+there had been no shadow of dark days and painful nights hanging over
+her future, if she had not longed so earnestly to learn for her sake the
+secret of peace and joy, over which these have no power, she might have
+put all anxious thoughts away from her.  But all her thoughts of her
+mother were anxious thoughts now; for in the only visit they had made
+since Easter, they had found her no better, but rather worse.
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+Spring was passing into the loveliest part of summer.  The school girls
+were beginning to count the days that must pass before the midsummer
+holidays; and none counted them more earnestly than did Frederica and
+her sister.  What was to follow the holidays they did not know.  There
+had been nothing more said about sending them to England.  But whether
+they were to be sent there, or to come back again to Mrs Glencairn's,
+there were two months of holidays on which they might safely count, and
+no one knew what might happen before they were over.
+
+Their one short visit since Easter had not been a very successful one.
+Their mother had been ill and Mrs Ascot had been cross, and there was
+to be no other visit till holiday time.  Dixen had come once or twice
+with a message from Selina, but the tidings he brought were neither very
+cheerful nor very definite; and no wonder that Frederica longed for
+more, and would not lose a chance to get them.
+
+And so one morning, as Mr Vane and some of his friends were riding
+through one of the wide upper streets, which at that time looked more
+like the country than the town, they were startled by a voice calling,
+"Papa, papa," and out from a straggling line of school girls there
+sprang a little figure gesticulating eagerly.  Mr Vane turned round,
+and so did the others.
+
+"It is you, Fred, is it?" said he in surprise.
+
+"Yes, papa, I beg your pardon for calling you, but it is so stupid
+walking along all in a row, and I want to ask you how mama is, and
+Selina."
+
+"Oh! they are very well--just as usual.  But what will madame the
+schoolmistress say to your escapade?"
+
+"I am very naughty I know, papa, but I did so want to hear about mama.
+Is she really better?  Why! here she is," said Frederica in surprise.
+"Here are Jack and Jill at any rate."
+
+Yes, there were Jack and Jill, but there was not Mrs Vane nor Selina.
+A very pretty lady--two of them indeed--leaned back in the carriage.
+Frederica turned astonished and indignant eyes from them to her father
+as the carriage stopped.
+
+"Your mama gave herself the pleasure of lending her carriage to Mrs
+Clifford to-day," said Mr Vane, and Frederica knew by his tone and
+manner that he was annoyed, though it would not have done to show it to
+the rest of the party.
+
+"Let Miss Vane come with us," said one of the ladies.  "We can easily
+make room for her, can we not, Mrs Clifford?"
+
+Mrs Clifford was not quite sure, but Frederica declined the invitation
+with a stately little curtsey, and turned to her father again.
+
+"Do come with us, Miss Frederica," said Major Hargrave, a gentleman whom
+Frederica had several times seen before: "the day is lovely, and you
+will enjoy it."
+
+"Is it a pic-nic?  Thank you.  It would be very nice, I daresay, but I
+would rather not.  Good-bye, papa; I am afraid Miss Pardie will be very
+angry with me."
+
+"And no wonder," said her father, laughing.  The admiring glances which
+he saw exchanged quite dispelled his momentary vexation.
+
+"We could manage to soothe her, I think," said he.  "Would you like to
+go, Fred?  Where is Tessie?"
+
+"Tessie is not walking to-day.  She was naughty, and remained at home.
+No, I thank you, papa.  If there were no other reason, I could not go
+because of Tessie.  It would be too cruel to go and leave her."
+
+"Naughty! what has she done?  It would serve her right to leave her if
+she has been naughty."
+
+"Oh! as to that, yes.  She was very wrong.  She was playing Madame
+Bulbat for the girls, and Madame heard her, and was in a rage of course.
+And Miss Robina was obliged to be very severe with the child to keep
+the peace.  I cannot go, papa; but I daresay, if you were to ask her,
+Miss Pardie would let me go and see mama for a little while."
+
+But Mr Vane shook his head with sufficient decision.
+
+"No: mama is all right.  You are far better at school.  She does not
+need you."
+
+But pleased with the whispered admiration of the foolish people who were
+with him, and willing to prolong the pleasure, he moved away with his
+little daughter in the direction of the line of returning school girls,
+saying he must make the child's peace with her teacher; and he quite won
+Miss Pardie's heart by his manner of entreating it at her hands.
+
+"Was that your mama in the carriage, and your sister?" asked one of her
+companions, as they went on together.  "I think they might have asked
+you to go with them."
+
+"My mama, indeed!  That great red woman!" said Frederica scornfully.
+
+"She was very pretty," said her friend.  "That is because she did not
+ask you to go with them."
+
+"She did ask me.  I did not choose to go."
+
+"Because of your print dress?  Of course you could not have gone in
+that."
+
+Thus her friend chattered on, and Frederica answered at random or not at
+all, thinking of other things.  For it did not make her sure that her
+mother was well again, that her father had said so.  And though it was
+no new thing to her knowledge that her father should seek his own
+pleasure, without giving a thought to her mother in her enforced
+retirement, it struck her with new and sharp pain to-day, and her
+anxious and unhappy thoughts came back again with double force.
+
+"I have a great mind to go home without asking anybody," she said to
+herself.  But she knew she must not.
+
+She was, for the moment, very unhappy, and it was with a slow step and a
+sad face that she went to make her confession to Miss Robina.  For
+though Miss Pardie had graciously accepted Mr Vane's apologies for his
+daughter's behaviour, that was only as far as he was concerned.  She had
+her confession to make to Miss Robina all the same; and it is possible
+that Miss Pardie was not without hope that, for the moral effect of the
+thing, she would not be permitted to escape without punishment, or at
+least without reproof.  She got no punishment, however, and Miss
+Robina's reproof was of the gentlest, when it was explained to her that
+"she had been so anxious to hear about mama."
+
+"And I am afraid it was not good news you heard, from the sad face I
+see," said Miss Robina, kissing her.
+
+"Papa said she was well, so I suppose she is at least not worse.  Am I
+to be punished, Miss Robina?  I think Miss Pardie expects it."
+
+"You mean you think you deserve it.  Well, you must be sent upstairs for
+a while.  Take these strawberries to Eppie, and save me the stairs, and
+you need not hasten down again."
+
+So Frederica went slowly upstairs, believing herself to be very unhappy,
+little thinking how much more unhappy she was to be before she came down
+again.  Eppie was not in her room, which was an unusual circumstance at
+that hour of the afternoon, and Frederica set down the tiny basket of
+strawberries on the table, and went to her favourite seat in the west
+window, with her lesson-book in her hand.  In a little while she heard
+the slow, unequal steps of Eppie on the stairs, and saw her come in with
+a great bundle in her arms, and watched her as she carefully laid each
+garment in its place.  She did not speak, and in a minute there were
+other footsteps on the stairs, and Mrs Glencairn came into the room.
+
+Frederica ought to have spoken then.  She ought to have made them aware
+of her presence in the room.  But almost the first words she heard
+startled her so much, as to take away her power of speech, and to make
+her forget how wrong it was for her to listen to that which was not
+meant for her ears.
+
+She did not hear all that was said, nor did she know how long it had
+taken to say it, but when she saw the door close, and heard Mrs
+Glencairn's footsteps going slowly down the stairs, she slid from her
+seat on the window, and confronted Eppie with a white face and angry
+eyes.  The old woman uttered an exclamation, and drew back with uplifted
+hands.
+
+"Tell me what she meant, Eppie."
+
+"Miss Frederica!  Who would think that you would come and frighten a
+body out of their wits in that wild way?  You have given me a turn that
+I winna get over this while."
+
+"Tell me what she said," repeated Frederica.
+
+But Eppie, hoping that she might have heard little, had no mind to tell
+her what her mistress had said.
+
+"I would hae thought it o' any o' our young leddies rather than of you,
+pussy.  Eh, fie! to be hearkening to what other folk are saying!  What
+think you Miss Robina would say gin I were to tell her?"
+
+But Frederica put her words aside with an impatient gesture.
+
+"Tell me, or I will go to Mrs Glencairn."
+
+"'Deed you'll do nothing of the kind.  She has had trouble enew already,
+and it just needs you to go with thae bleezing een o' yours to upset her
+altogether.  Bide still where you are, like a good bairn."
+
+Frederica sat down, and neither of them spoke for a while.
+
+"Eppie," said she at last, "I think I understand, but I am not quite
+sure.  Tell me, so that I need not make a mistake, or bring any one into
+trouble."
+
+"Whisht, lassie!  It's a matter you hae nothing to do with, and I
+counsel you no' to make nor meddle in it."
+
+"You are mistaken, Eppie; there is no one but me to put this right,
+unless mama is to be troubled.  And she shall not be troubled.  Is this
+it?  For more than a year and a half Mrs Glencairn has received
+nothing--absolutely nothing--for all that she has done for Tessie and
+me.  She has asked for it more than once, but she has received nothing.
+I wish to understand."
+
+Eppie looked at her, but did not answer.  The shrewd old woman had
+seldom been so utterly at a loss before.
+
+"My dear," said she, "it might have happened to anybody."
+
+"And we have been living on charity--Tessie and I?"
+
+"Hoot, lassie! dinna speak nonsense.  It is all to the fore.  And it is
+a good thing, for it might have been spent, and now it is waiting for
+Miss Robina to do what she likes with; to go and see her sister, maybe.
+It's a good thing that it's to the fore."
+
+Frederica looked at her without a word.
+
+"I would advise you no' to meddle in the matter.  It will be all settled
+as it ought to be, and Miss Robina would be ill pleased that you should
+ken.  And it will be all right, you may be sure," said Eppie cheerfully.
+
+"It would do no good to go to-day, because papa Is away, and mama is not
+to be troubled.  But to-morrow--Has Mrs Glencairn been very much in
+need of it; Eppie?  Why did they not send us away?"
+
+"My dear, that's nonsense!  What difference would one, or even two, make
+in a family like this?  She would rather have you here than not, though
+she were never to see the colour of your father's money.  And as for
+Miss Robina!  But the money is safe enough; so just you sit down, and
+put the thought of it out of your head."
+
+There was not another word said about it, and Mistress Campbell rejoiced
+in the readiness with which her counsel had been taken.  But Frederica
+had no thought of "putting it out of her head" in the sense that Eppie
+hoped.  The first sudden shock of anger and shame passed, but it was
+followed by a pain and doubt not more easily borne.  She had only just
+been able to shut her lips closely, when the name of Mrs Ascot had
+risen to them; but as she sat there in silence, seeming to read quietly,
+her thoughts went beyond Mrs Ascot.  They followed her father and his
+gay friends; away into the sunshine of the pleasant fields, and they
+went to her mother left solitary and suffering, with only Selina to
+comfort her, and with Mrs Ascot to vex her with cares which she ought
+never to know.
+
+"It is not kind of papa," she said, over and over again.
+
+She did not get further than this; for hitherto she had looked at their
+life and their household ways and cares with the unreasoning eyes of a
+child.  Her father was gay and careless, and apt to forget about things
+that did not specially concern himself, even a child could see that; but
+she had never regarded all this as worthy of blame.  She had not thought
+about it in that way at all.  But she thought about a great many painful
+things as she sat with her head bent over her book in Eppie's garret
+that night.
+
+There was nothing to be said by anybody.  Frederica did not even tell
+Tessie, as she was almost sure to tell anything that vexed her, in the
+few minutes that were allowed them for talk before silence was commanded
+for the night.  Tessie could not help her to do as she had determined to
+do, and Tessie was rather apt to exclaim about things, and to take other
+girls into her confidence, and such a thing was not to be thought of
+now.
+
+It would not be easy for her to obtain permission to go home next day,
+she knew, but she determined to go all the same, whether she got
+permission or not.  But something in the girl's face made Robina pause
+before she answered her in one way or the other.
+
+"Has anything happened, love?  You have heard no bad news, I hope," said
+she kindly.
+
+Frederica did not find it easy to answer.
+
+"Your mama is not worse, I hope."
+
+"She is not better," said Frederica huskily.  "Won't you let me go home,
+Miss Robina?  I might go with Nora when she goes to the market, and
+Dixen will bring me back.  Please do, dear Miss Robina, for a little
+while."
+
+"I am by no means sure that I ought to say `yes,'" said she; but she
+kissed the sweet pleading face and said it, notwithstanding.
+
+Frederica did not go home first.  She took Nora some distance out of her
+way to her father's office, and bade her good-bye at the door.
+
+"Thank you, Nora, don't wait.  Papa will take care of me now."
+
+Her father looked surprised, and not very well pleased to see her.  Not
+that she was interrupting his business, for she saw that he was only
+reading the newspaper.  She did not give him time to express his
+surprise in words, nor did she greet him in her usual fashion, but said
+hurriedly, "I came on business, papa."  She did not find it easy to say
+more for a minute; and something which he saw in her face kept her
+father silent also.
+
+"Papa, do you know that Mrs Glencairn has not been paid for more than a
+year and a half? for Tessie and me, I mean."
+
+Her father stared at her in astonishment, not understanding for the
+moment what she meant.
+
+"What nonsense, Frederica!" said he: "and what have you to do with it?"
+
+"It is quite true, papa, and of course I have to do with it.  Mrs
+Glencairn must be paid."
+
+"And did she send you here to say that to me?  She has been paid.  I
+cannot say that I admire either her taste or her judgment.  I think we
+have had almost enough of madam the schoolmistress."
+
+"I think she must have had quite enough of us, papa.  But she did not
+send me.  She is not aware that I know about it.  I overheard her
+speaking about it to Mistress Campbell."
+
+"Overheard! and you have been suffering the usual penalty of listeners."
+
+"No, papa, and I did not mean to listen.  But I was so shocked.  Mrs
+Glencairn and Miss Robina have been very kind to us, papa, and they must
+be paid."
+
+"I have not the least doubt that they have been paid, over and over
+again.  Let them alone for that!"
+
+"Did you pay them, papa?"
+
+"No.  I did not give the money to them, but I have a distinct
+recollection of its being provided."
+
+"So have I, papa.  Mama was obliged to ask Mr St. Cyr for more money,
+and she said it was very painful, and she could not do it again."
+
+"All that relates to Mr St. Cyr's connection with our affairs is
+painful.  You are old enough now, Frederica, to understand that it was
+never with my consent that he had to do with--with our affairs--with
+your grandfather's property.  I can do nothing.  If things go wrong, it
+is not my fault.  I protested against such an arrangement at the time,
+and--and washed my hands of them.  And it is a matter with which you can
+have nothing to do."
+
+"Except about Mrs Glencairn's money, papa.  I _must_ have to do with
+that, you know.  Tell me what I must do, papa."
+
+"You can do nothing.  There must be some mistake.  A year and a half!
+It would be a large sum."
+
+"Yes, indeed!  But, papa, don't you think it possible that--that Mrs
+Ascot may have made some mistake?"
+
+"She may certainly have made a mistake.  I will see that it is put
+right.  But you can do nothing, and you must not try.  You will only
+make matters worse."
+
+There was silence for some time, and then Frederica said hesitatingly,--
+
+"I am afraid, papa--that Mrs Ascot is not a very good woman."
+
+Mr Vane looked at her without speaking.
+
+"I mean that she is too clever to make mistakes--that she must know if--
+if there is anything wrong about the money."
+
+"She is clever, but she is not too clever to make mistakes.  She has
+made one now--she will find."
+
+"I think so, papa.  Mrs Glencairn could not have been mistaken.  She
+must know, of course.  And, papa--it is not pleasant to speak about--but
+I don't think Mrs Ascot is nice with mama and Lina.  I mean she is not
+considerate."
+
+"That will do, Fred.  We won't discuss Madame Ascot.  It was not by my
+will that she was brought into the house.  Your grandfather--but I can't
+speak to you about all that.  Go home, or go back to your school.  This
+matter shall be cleared up and put right."
+
+"To-day, papa?  Papa, I shall be ashamed to look at Miss Robina till
+this money is paid.  Can you not give it to me to take back to-day?
+Please do, dear papa."
+
+Mr Vane laughed a very unpleasant laugh.
+
+"Don't be foolish, Fred.  I have not the money to give you to-day, or
+any day.  I must speak to Mrs Ascot: there must be some mistake.  She
+and your mother have always managed these things, with Mr St. Cyr's
+help.  I can do nothing."
+
+"But, papa--" entreated Frederica.
+
+"Hush, say nothing more.  As Mrs Glencairn said nothing to you, you are
+not supposed to know anything about the matter.  Go back to school at
+once.  Or are you going home for the day?"
+
+"I meant to do so, but I don't wish to trouble mama.  I might speak to
+Mrs Ascot."
+
+"Much good that would do," said her father, with his unpleasant laugh.
+"No, I will speak to her.  Go now, there are people coming in."
+
+As the door opened to admit some one, Frederica passed out, but she did
+not turn her face towards home, nor towards school.
+
+"I will go to Cousin Cyprien," said she to herself.  "I cannot trouble
+mama, and I cannot go back to Mrs Glencairn's without some hope that it
+will all be set right.  Papa so soon forgets."
+
+And not giving herself time to lose courage by thinking about the
+difficulties before her, she hastened away.  But when she found herself
+in the dismal hall into which Mr St. Cyr's office opened, and from
+which the staircase to his house led, she wished herself well away
+again.  It was late in the morning by this time, but Mr St. Cyr had not
+come down to his office, the man who opened the door told her, and
+Frederica went upstairs with a beating heart.  She thought she had come
+at a wrong time, when she opened the door, and found that Mr St. Cyr
+was not alone.  But her friend hastened to welcome her, and though he
+expressed some surprise at the sight of her, he expressed pleasure also.
+
+"Only I fear you must be in trouble again," said he, kindly.  "Is it
+something very serious this time?  Ah! yes, your face says so.  It is
+not--is it Prickly Polly?  But first let me introduce my brother to you,
+whom you ought to know.  Jerome, this is Theresa's daughter--Mr St.
+Hubert's grandchild."
+
+"It must be Theresa herself, I think," said the dark man, who rose and
+held out his hand.
+
+"No, I am Frederica.  Theresa is younger than I."
+
+"She is very like her, is she not?  Just the same bright little
+creature.  But she is not bright to-day.  Tell me what is the matter, my
+little cousin."
+
+Frederica hesitated.  She did not like to speak before Mr St. Cyr's
+brother.  She would not have liked to speak before anyone, but, as she
+told Tessie afterwards, the Reverend Mr St. Cyr had not a nice face.
+It was a face that somehow made her think of a mask, and she looked with
+a little startled curiosity at him, wondering what might be behind it.
+
+"It brings back your youth, does it not?  She is very like what her
+mother was in those days.  But her mother is changed.  Ah! so sadly
+changed," said Mr St. Cyr, with a sigh.
+
+But the priest did not answer a word.
+
+"Well, what can I do for you?" said Mr St. Cyr, turning to Frederica.
+"Who has been troubling you this time?  Not Prickly Polly, sorely?  I
+thought I had settled her affairs the other day.  What is it now?"
+
+"Did you?" said Frederica, eagerly.  "And was it very disagreeable?"
+
+"Well, for her, rather so, I fancy.  What is it now?  Is it a secret?
+And does Madame the Schoolmistress let you go here and there about the
+city by yourself?  She thinks you `sensible,' I suppose?"
+
+Frederica shook her head.
+
+"I was not alone.  Nora took me to papa's office, and then I came here.
+It is not a secret, but--"
+
+The Rev. Mr St. Cyr sat down, and took up a book.
+
+"Regard him as if he were made of wood," said Cousin Cyprien, laughing;
+"and now tell me all your trouble."
+
+"I don't know whether I ought to tell you, but I don't know what else to
+do."
+
+And then she told him all her trouble; how she had heard by accident
+that Mrs Glencairn had received nothing for their board and education
+for a long time, and how she had gone to her father, and he had been
+angry, and said he could do nothing, and then she added,--
+
+"I think Mrs Ascot, must know.  Do you think Madame Ascot is a
+trustworthy person, Cousin Cyprien?  Of course she is disagreeable, and
+cross, and all that; but not to be trustworthy is something quite
+different.  And papa says it was not his fault that she came to our
+house.  Do you think her a good woman.  Mr St. Cyr?  Is she
+trustworthy?"
+
+He listened to her story without a word, only smiling and nodding now
+and then till she came to the end and asked those questions about Mrs
+Ascot.  Then he looked uneasily towards his brother, but his brother
+never lifted his eyes from his book, nor seemed to hear a word.
+
+"We must not speak evil of her, nor accuse her without sufficient
+grounds," said he gravely.
+
+"No," said Frederica faintly.  "But I do not mean because of this
+altogether.  She is not always considerate towards mama, I am afraid,
+and mama is ill, and--alone.  But I need not trouble you about it.
+Pardon me if I ought not to have come to you."
+
+"You did right to come to me.  I can set right all this mysterious
+affair.  You shall not hear of it again.  Of course you are to come to
+me."
+
+"But, Cousin Cyprien," said Frederica, taking courage from his kindness,
+"ought I to need to come to you always?  Is there not something wrong
+that might be remedied?"
+
+"My dear child, almost everything in the world is wrong, and I very much
+fear must always remain so.  But this can be remedied, and it shall be
+on one condition.  You are not to trouble yourself about it.  Are you
+the little girl who the other day nearly overturned me?  You look like
+an old woman with that naughty wrinkle in your forehead."
+
+Frederica laughed.
+
+"What should I do, if I might not come to you?  And yet I ought not to
+need to come.  There must be something wrong," added she, the naughty
+wrinkle coming to her forehead again.  "Was it grandpapa who put it all
+wrong, as papa says? or is it Madame Ascot? or perhaps papa himself?"
+added she, with some hesitation.
+
+Mr St. Cyr answered her gravely.
+
+"My little girl, we will not ask.  I will set this matter right--no, not
+to-day, but soon, and you must not think of it any more."
+
+His promise sounded very different in Frederica's ears, from the promise
+her father had made.  Mr St. Cyr did not forget.  Still she lingered as
+if she had more to say, and as if she were not quite sure whether she
+ought to say it.
+
+"Do you wish Mrs Ascot to stay in our house, Cousin Cyprien?  Papa said
+to-day it was not by his wish that she ever came.  Do you like her, Mr
+St. Cyr?  Have you confidence in her?  I am quite sure I could make mama
+and Selina much happier than she makes them."
+
+"This terrible Madame Ascot!" said Mr St. Cyr with a shrug.  "No, I
+don't think I like her very much, or have much confidence in her.  But
+we will not speak of her.  When you are old enough and wise enough to
+take care of your mama and your sister, and the housekeeping, and all
+that, we shall dispense with madame altogether, I fancy.  But this must
+be a secret till the right time comes, and we shall say no more about
+it."
+
+"I am almost old enough, am I not?  Well, I will wait patiently."
+
+"Good child! that will be best," said Mr St. Cyr.
+
+Then he showed her several curious things that were in the cabinet, and
+a fine picture he had lately purchased, and then he rang for some fruit,
+and was very attentive and full of ceremony in serving her; and then he
+went downstairs with her, when she went away.
+
+"Good day, my little cousin," said he.  "Be sure you come to me always.
+I wish I could put aside all trouble from you as easily as I can put
+aside this one.  Though, indeed, I may have vexation more than enough,
+before I am done with it," he muttered, as he went upstairs to his
+brother again.
+
+And he did have vexation, and so had Mrs Ascot, and Mr Vane did not
+escape without his share.  But Frederica had no more.  In a day or two
+she gathered from various sources that Mrs Glencairn had been paid in
+full, and with interest, and that was enough for her.  She never heard
+another word more about the matter.
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+Mr St. Cyr's vexation began the moment he went upstairs again into the
+room where his brother was sitting.  A good many years before this time,
+Mr Jerome St. Cyr had known the St. Huberts, and had looked upon
+Theresa's marriage with Mr Vane, as almost all her friends had done, as
+a terrible sacrifice.  He had been a young man then, he was much younger
+than his brother.  He had gone to Europe to pursue his studies soon
+after that, and had remained there after they were finished.  His
+correspondence with his brother had not been very regular or frequent,
+and he knew little of what was passing among his friends all that time.
+He had only lately returned home, and he showed great interest in the
+Vane family, and asked his brother many questions concerning them.  Mr
+St. Cyr gave him some particulars of them and their manner of life; of
+Mrs Vane's ill-health, and the quiet way in which she and her blind
+daughter lived together.
+
+"But, my brother," said Jerome St. Cyr, "I do not understand how you
+should have permitted affairs to take such a course, you who have so
+long had the power in your own hand.  Why should these girls be losing
+their time at a second or third-rate school, as seems to be the case?
+Why have they not been all these years with the Sisters of the Sacred
+Heart?  And the boys, too!  Think of them wasting their time with some
+foolish young person who goes to them daily!  It is little less than
+disgraceful."
+
+"You mistake," said Mr St. Cyr quietly.  "I have had the management of
+their grandfathers property for their mother's use, but I have had no
+power--no, nor the shadow of power, nor of influence, where Mr Vane's
+children are concerned."
+
+"Then permit me to say that you have been very culpable in this matter,
+I should have obtained influence and power too."
+
+Mr St. Cyr shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing.
+
+"And all this immense property that has been accumulating since Mr St.
+Hubert's death, this rascally Englishman is to have?"
+
+"No, his children are to have it--Theresa St. Hubert's children.  It has
+made the Englishman sufficiently miserable thus far--the sight of I
+mean, without the power to use it.  Not but that he has had some good of
+it too."
+
+"But to think of these poor children growing up without Christian
+instruction!  Did Mr St. Hubert make no condition as to their
+education--their religion?  I cannot imagine how you and Pauline Precoe
+can reconcile it to your sense of duty, to your conscience, that it
+should be as it is with them.  With Pauline Precoe's help, I should have
+made it quite otherwise."
+
+Mr St. Cyr laughed in a way which was not pleasant to hear.
+
+"You have not forgotten Pauline Precoe, it seems," said he.
+
+"I must see her," said Jerome.  "It may not be too late yet.  These
+children must be saved."
+
+"It is too late to think of availing yourself of Pauline Precoe's help
+in your good work, however.  She is now in Mrs Vane's house, but she
+shall not be there long.  I have no influence with Mr Vane--he hates me
+like poison; but I think he may be made to see that it will not be for
+his interest that Madame Ascot should stay much longer in his family."
+
+"Why?  What has she done, poor Pauline?  You did not use to hate her
+so."
+
+"I never respected her.  She was never worthy of respect.  She was and
+is an utterly unscrupulous person.  I say to you what I mean to say to
+her soon--she is a dishonest person.  I might even say worse than that."
+
+"She has not been under right direction," said his brother.
+
+"And you would like to be her director henceforth.  I wish you joy of
+the office.  But you must not hope through her to gain influence over
+Theresa St. Hubert and her children."
+
+"And they and their wealth must be lost to the Church?  You are not so
+good a Christian as you once were, Cyprien," said his brother.
+
+"That is as may be.  I do not think it is my Christian duty, or yours,
+to seek to obtain possession of Mr St. Hubert's wealth, or any part of
+it, by any means, or for any purpose whatever."
+
+"I seek nothing for myself," said his brother; "and we will discuss the
+subject no more."
+
+"There is just this to be said more," said Mr St. Cyr, gravely and
+firmly: "Do not meddle with their affairs, my brother.  No good can come
+of it, to you or to any one.  You wish none of it for yourself?  To wish
+for it for any purpose--yes, even to build churches, or to feed and
+clothe your orphans--is covetousness.  To obtain possession of it would
+be dishonesty.  Put it altogether from your thoughts."
+
+There was a silence of several minutes, and Mr St. Cyr rose to leave
+the room.
+
+"Brother," said Jerome, meekly, "I had hoped that after all these years
+of separation we might at least have lived in peace together--the last
+of our race as we are."
+
+"With all my heart, let it be peace.  Only there must be no meddling
+with this matter, or with any matter in which my honour as a gentleman
+and a man of business is involved.  That must be clearly understood."
+
+"I must be faithful with you," said Jerome, still speaking softly: "I
+consider that you have been Culpably negligent with regard to these
+children.  It is their souls for which I am anxious, not their wealth.
+It is for you to render an account of them--not me."
+
+"So be it!  I will answer," said Mr St. Cyr.  After a moment he added,
+"Do not, my brother, let us become unfriendly over this matter.  When
+Mr St. Hubert left his property to me, in trust for his daughter and
+her children, I did all that was permitted me to do to have these
+children placed under Christian influence and teaching.  In fact, I
+would have confided them to the care of the ladies of the Sacred Heart,
+as you suggest, if I had been consulted.  Mr Vane had other plans, and
+I had no right to interfere.  I cannot say that I now regret that my
+plans for them failed.  They are good and sweet children, frank and
+loving, and conscientious, with far more strength of character and
+truthfulness, than would have been developed in them had they been
+educated within convent walls.  And they will need these qualities, poor
+children."
+
+"All that sounds strangely from the lips of one who has the reputation
+of being a religious man," said his brother gravely.
+
+"Have I that reputation?  Well, we will say no more, lest your next word
+be not so flattering.  And now I must leave you to amuse yourself, while
+I without loss of time attend to this unpleasant business.  We shall see
+each other again soon."
+
+It truly was an unpleasant business to all concerned; and all the more
+so, that instead of shutting his eyes, and seeming not to see what was
+wrong, as he had often done before, in matters where Mr Vane was
+concerned, he was determined to search to the bottom the affair of the
+misappropriated money.  He had no expectation that it would be restored;
+he did not care about that: the result he desired to bring about was the
+departure of Mrs Ascot from the house.  She would have been sent away
+long before, if Mrs Vane in her ill-health could have found courage to
+dissent from the will of her dead father who had placed her there, or to
+oppose the expressed will of her husband, whose ease and interest Mrs
+Ascot in all things studied.
+
+So Mr St. Cyr did his best to make it unpleasant business to both Mrs
+Ascot and Mr Vane, and they did the same for each other.  With the
+details our story has nothing to do, but the result was matter of
+rejoicing to the Vanes.  The very first thing that Fred and Tessie heard
+when they came home for the holidays was that Madame Ascot was going to
+be married!  It was madame herself who told them.  She was to many her
+own cousin, Mr Joseph Precoe, who was a merchant in the city.  It would
+have happened long ago, only she had never been able to induce herself
+to forsake dear Mrs Vane, who had been so much in need of her.  But now
+in justice to Mr Precoe, who had waited so long, she must wait no
+longer.
+
+Madame was determined to part in friendship with everybody, it seemed,
+and she would not see the joyful looks the girls exchanged, nor any
+other indications of delight at the prospect of her departure.  She not
+only did not resent these things, but took the utmost pains to
+conciliate the young people and their mother as well.  There was to be a
+fine wedding, and Mrs Ascot's earnest wish was that she should go
+directly from Mrs Vane's house to the church, and that her dear little
+cousins should go with her as bridesmaids; and she had so much to say
+about the charming dresses and ornaments that would be required, that
+they desired it too.
+
+Their mother did not desire it and their father, with more decision than
+he usually displayed in matters that did not particularly affect his own
+comfort, put an end to the discussion of the subject at once.  Madame
+Ascot, an inmate of their house, had been a person of some importance,
+but Madame Precoe would be like any other common person with whom they
+had nothing at all to do.  This was made quite clear to the children by
+him, and there was no reason, except the pretty bridesmaids' dresses,
+why they should regret his decision.  Madame was disappointed and angry.
+She showed her disappointment, but she did not show her anger.  She was
+determined to part in friendship with them all, and she promised to come
+and see them often, and to render them assistance in all matters where
+assistance was needed.
+
+"There must be none of that, however," said Mr Vane, when Frederica
+told him of Mrs Ascot's kindness.  "It would suit her purpose, I
+daresay, to make good her position here, and it would suit other
+people's also; but it will not suit me; and she is not to be encouraged;
+remember that, Fred."
+
+Frederica opened her eyes in astonishment at her father's unwonted
+warmth.
+
+"It would not suit mama, if that is what you mean, papa--nor any of us.
+We are very glad to part with her, and Mr St. Cyr does not like her at
+all, I am sure."
+
+"He may wish to make use of her, though he does not like her.  But she
+is not to be encouraged to come here."
+
+"Very well, papa," said Frederica: but she by no means understood what
+her father meant, nor did it matter much that she did not.
+
+The girls saw the wedding after all.  They went to the church in the
+early morning, and saw madame in her fine dress and veil, and her
+bridesmaids, who were much better suited to the office than they would
+have been.  Madame did not see them.  They kept out of sight, and
+watched the ceremony with great interest, rather pitying the
+good-natured-looking bridegroom, and exchanging serious doubts as to his
+chances of good times in madame's hands.  The usual carriages drawn by
+white horses awaited them at the door; and as they watched them driving
+away, Tessie said,--
+
+"There! she has really gone at last.  I have been afraid all along that
+Mr Precoe would repent, or that somebody would do something to put a
+stop to it, and that we should have Prickly Polly back again.  I should
+like to dance and sing for thankfulness."
+
+But Frederica had no thought of dancing and singing.
+
+"There is always, some drawback," said she gravely.  "If everything does
+not go on well in the house,--dinners, and servants, and all that,--papa
+will not be pleased."
+
+"Oh, well!  Why should they not go on well?  You are so sensible, you
+know," said Tessie, laughing.  "You are equal to Mrs Ascot, surely."
+
+"I mean to be good, and try to do everything right, and then all will go
+well.  That is what Miss Robina said to me--at least, she said I must
+always try to do right, whatever happened.  If one could always know
+what is right!"
+
+Tessie laughed.
+
+"I wonder if it was right for us to come and see the last of Madame
+Ascot, after what papa said."
+
+"Oh! our coming in this way was quite different.  We were not guests,
+and she did not see us.  And after the first moment I daresay papa did
+not think about it."
+
+"That is true.  Papa does not mind about things."
+
+"But he minds about his dinner, and about everything being right when
+his friends come to the house, and all that; and perhaps he might mind
+about our coming here too.  I think I shall tell him that we were in the
+church."
+
+Tessie said he would be sure not to care, and Frederica thought so too,
+or perhaps she would not have been so ready to tell him about it.  It is
+possible he did not care very much; but he was rather cross about it,
+Frederica confessed, when she told Tessie afterward.  His comfort had
+already been interfered with since Mrs Ascot's departure, for the
+affairs of the house did not go on very well for a while, and he had
+other causes for embarrassment which he could not tell to her.  He only
+said it was not a proper thing for her to be going about the streets
+alone, or with no one but Tessie, and insisted that an end should be put
+to it.
+
+"You are no longer a child," said he; "you are almost a woman."
+
+"But surely, papa, I should be all the fitter to go about for that,"
+said she, laughing.
+
+"That is your idea, is it?  Well, it is not mine.  You must amuse
+yourselves within the bounds of the garden, while your vacation lasts."
+
+"But, papa," said Frederica, with dignity, "it is not a question of
+amusement: you forget that I am housekeeper."
+
+"No, I am not likely to forget that," said her father drily.  "If you
+must go out, you must go in the carriage, or take Dixen with you.  I
+cannot have you going here and there by yourself."
+
+"Very well, papa: I will remember."
+
+It was very agreeable to her that her father should acknowledge that she
+was no longer a child, but she was by no means sure that all the
+consequences of being almost a woman would be agreeable.  However, she
+was determined to make the best of it.
+
+"I am going to be very busy," said she.  "You shall see what a
+housekeeper I shall be.  I shall have no time to be going here and
+there.  I shall like it, I am quite sure, better than school."
+
+But Frederica had all her housekeeping to learn yet.  She did not know
+what she was saying when she was speaking in this way to her father.  It
+is not to be supposed that an inexperienced young girl like her could at
+once have rightly governed and guided so large a household, even had she
+set herself to the work with a full sense of its responsibility and
+difficulty.  She had some misgivings in the direction of "papa," but all
+the rest seemed easy and pleasant.  Indeed, she considered it "great
+fun" to keep the keys, and order dinner, and hold consultations with the
+cook over courses, and dishes, and sauces, of which she knew nothing at
+all.
+
+It was "great fun" to the cook too, but she tired of it after a while,
+and so did Frederica.  As a general thing, the cook heard the orders and
+took her own way about obeying them, which, on the whole, answered
+everybody's purpose best.  But sometimes the young mistress forgot her
+orders, or did what was worse, issued orders which were contradictory or
+impossible to obey.  And sometimes, in her ignorance, she was arbitrary
+and unreasonable, and assumed dignified "airs," and asserted her
+authority at wrong times, and made "no end" of trouble.  "And as for
+standing the like of that from a child that didn't know white sauce from
+butter, it was not to be thought of for a minute," cook said, with
+sufficient emphasis.
+
+It was the cook who was Frederica's greatest trouble, because she was
+the only servant in the house, except Dixen, who could in any measure
+interfere with the comfort or temper of her father; and in trying to
+keep things right for him, she put them often woefully wrong.  So
+domestic affairs were in rather a troubled state for a while.  Tessie
+was not altogether wrong, when she asserted that it would have been much
+more comfortable for everybody if she had left the servants of the house
+to do things in their own way, and of course it came to that at last.
+
+Frederica grew tired of being anxious, and dignified, and out of temper,
+and by-and-by let the cook and all the rest of them take their own
+plans, and fell into the usual holiday ways, and devoted herself to her
+mother and Selina.  She kept the keys still, and ordered dinner; but
+very often the store-room door was open, while the keys were safe in her
+little basket, and her orders for dinner were very apt to degenerate
+into amiable and undignified coaxings for certain favourite dishes at
+the cook's hands.  This was a great deal more agreeable for all
+concerned, and was quite as well every way.  For the servants had been
+well trained by Mrs Ascot, and they sufficiently appreciated the
+advantages of a good place and good wages, to be reasonably faithful in
+the performance of their duties.  And besides, in a little time they
+grew quite fond and proud of their merry and pretty young mistress, and
+took pains to please her, when it did not involve too much trouble to
+themselves.
+
+And so Mrs Ascot was less missed in the house than she would have
+believed possible.  Even "papa" ceased to be critical and vexatious when
+he found that his dinner, and his boots, and his fine linen seemed to
+make their appearance at proper times with no trouble to himself.
+Household affairs settled into their new grooves quietly and regularly,
+and the young housekeeper gave herself not much trouble about them for a
+while.  She had enough to do without them.  Even in the busiest of
+housekeeping times, the sisters had never neglected their mother and
+Selina.
+
+The presence of the girls in the house made a joyful difference to them.
+The sound of their voices, as they danced out and in the rooms, usually
+so silent and lonely, was music and medicine to their mother.  She grew
+better and stronger in these weeks, and made efforts that she would have
+believed impossible before they came home.
+
+Mr Vane's desire that the girls should confine themselves to the garden
+for their walks and amusements was not so disagreeable to them as it
+might have been.  For the summer proved to be hot and dry, and the
+streets were dusty and close, and the large and beautiful garden, with
+its walks, and soft green turf and shady trees, was as pleasant a place
+as could well be imagined in which to pass the sultry days.
+
+From the first day of her return home Frederica had been faithful with
+regard to the reading of the Bible with her mother and Selina.  Eppie
+had said that this was one of the ways by which she had been taught to
+be religious.  She knew that other good people valued the Bible for the
+wisdom it contained, or for the comfort it could give.  She had heard it
+spoken of as the rule of life, and as the guide to heaven, and she
+determined to know what it contained, and to get the good of it for
+herself and for those she loved.  So, beginning at the beginning, she
+read regularly a portion every day.  She might have grown tired of it
+after a while, for though she found some of it full of interest, it was
+not all so, and she did not find in it what she had hoped to find.  It
+did not tell her directly and plainly what she must do.  She did not see
+the way to be good and serve God pointed out in words that she could
+understand, and she might have been tempted to betake herself to other
+books for instruction and amusement, if it had not been for Selina.  But
+there was no doubt about her interest in what she heard.
+
+Selina's life had been quiet and untroubled.  There had been her
+mother's ill-health, and the occasional irritability and despondency
+consequent upon it, and there had been the vexations that from time to
+time had come on them through the agency, direct or indirect, of Mrs
+Ascot.  But there had been nothing else to disturb in any painful way
+the uneventful days to her.  And there had been as little to heighten
+beyond its usual quiet flow the contented current of daily occupation
+and pleasure.  There had been her little brothers' daily visit to their
+mother's room, and the infrequent joyful holidays of her sisters, but
+her life had been still and monotonous.  Her interests and occupations
+had not been of a kind to take her thoughts out of the house where she
+had always lived.  Their few visitors brought little to her but the
+usual commonplace talk and superficial sympathy, and even the books that
+were read, and the tales that were told her, were not of a kind to move
+the unawakened heart and mind of one withdrawn by her blindness and
+isolation from a young girl's interest in the world around her.
+
+And so when Frederica came with her eager interest in the reading, and
+her vague but joyful hopes of all that might spring out of it, Selina
+did not know what it meant, but prepared herself to take pleasure in the
+pleasure of her sisters, as she had often done before.  But this state
+of mind did not survive even the first day's reading.  All the wonderful
+new things to which she listened were for her, as well as for Frederica
+and the rest.  They were not new to Frederica.  She had often read
+before how in the beginning the heavens and the earth were made.  The
+mother, too, had some vague remembrance of what the Book contained, for
+during the first years of her married life she had gone to church with
+her husband.  But strange as it may seem, all was new to Selina, and to
+all that her sister read she listened eagerly, and thought and spoke of
+it afterwards with a wonder and delight that encouraged her sister to
+persevere in the reading; and whatever else was neglected or hurried
+over, to the reading was always given its full share of time and
+attention.
+
+This was the beginning of a new life to Selina.  If her beautiful blind
+eyes had been suddenly opened on the world around her, it could hardly
+have made a more entire change in her thoughts and feelings and
+enjoyments, than did this daily reading of the Bible.  She did not say
+much about it.  It had always been her way to listen to the others
+rather than to speak, and it was her way still.  But a great many new
+thoughts came to her, and the knowledge of many wonderful truths.  Her
+thoughts were often confused, and her reception of truth partial and
+imperfect, but her interest and enjoyment were real and deep.  All that
+came to her through the reading did not come at once, and the best did
+not come first.  The blessing for which Frederica hoped, and looked, and
+sometimes prayed, did not come in its fulness to any of them for a good
+while after that, but from the first the reading was a source of
+happiness to them, and most of all to Selina.
+
+Mrs Vane's enjoyment of it was in the enjoyment of her children.  To be
+sitting, free from pain, in the garden, where she had played as a child,
+with her own children around her, and with no care or fear pressing
+immediately upon her, was enough to satisfy her.  Their delight in the
+reading, and in the talk that often grew out of it, she did not share.
+She did not understand it, nor cared to do so at first.  To watch her
+blind darling's bright absorbed face, and to see her sisters' tender
+affection, and their desire to give her a part in the pleasure from
+which her affliction tended to debar her, was happiness to the mother,
+who had grieved so much over her in the past.
+
+Mrs Vane was not a very wise mother, nor indeed a very wise woman in
+any relation of life, and she wished nothing more for herself nor for
+her children than a continuation of just such days as these.  She felt
+so safe and at rest in the sunshine of the dear old garden, shut in from
+the world, where trouble was, and danger.  It was a new experience to
+her to have them all around her, with no one to interfere with their
+plans and pleasures, and she desired nothing beyond.
+
+Mr Vane had gone away, as he always did for a month or two in the
+summer, and there were few interruptions in the quiet of their lives.
+Once or twice Frederica and Tessie went to visit their half-sister Mrs
+Brandon, who lived in a pretty house near the mountain.  They went
+because they knew their father wished them to go, but they did not enjoy
+going very much.  Their sister Caroline was very pretty and good, they
+thought, and she meant to be very kind to them; but she had a way of
+looking at them and listening to them as though she thought them odd
+little creatures, different from other young girls, which was not
+agreeable to them; and she had a way of speaking of their father as
+"poor papa" or "poor dear papa," which was especially distasteful to
+Frederica, and which she resented, not for her father's sake, but for
+her mother's, and she did not always conceal her displeasure.  So they
+did not go often, nor stay long.
+
+They drove out in the carriage when the days were clear and cool, and
+once or twice they had a visit from Madame Precoe.  Mr St. Cyr's
+brother came several times; but for the most part they were alone, and
+the days passed quietly away.  They read other books as well as the
+Bible.  Selina took pleasure in them all, and Frederica promised, when
+her holidays were over, seriously to attend to her sister's neglected
+education, and even now favoured her with scraps of information
+remembered from her own lessons, historical and geographical facts, and
+bits of botany, and even grammatical rules.  Selina declared herself
+ready to be taught all that her sister knew, but in the meantime it was
+the reading of the Bible about which she cared most.
+
+Many grave discussions grew out of the reading.  They made mistakes
+often, and said foolish things, and any one listening to them must have
+been sometimes amused and sometimes pained by the ignorance they
+displayed, and by the opinions they expressed; but no one could have
+failed to discern in them an eager desire to know the truth and to obey
+it.  And they who earnestly desire to know the truth have an infallible
+teacher and guide, and it is certain of such, for He says it, that "they
+shall know the truth, and the truth shall make them free."
+
+"I have heard that before, more than once," said Selina one day, when
+Frederica had read the promise of God to Isaac in Gerar: "And I will
+make thy seed to multiply as the stars of heaven, and will give unto thy
+seed all these countries; and in thy seed shall all the nations of the
+earth be blessed."
+
+"Yes, we have had it before," said Frederica.  "The same promise was
+given to Abraham, you know."
+
+"What does it mean, I wonder?" asked Selina.  "Oh! it means that the
+children of Abraham were to become a great people, as they did
+afterwards.  They were God's own chosen people.  All the Bible is
+written about them, you know."
+
+"Yes, but how are all the nations of the earth to be blessed through
+them?"
+
+"I have heard something about it," said Frederica meditatively.  "Let me
+think a minute.  Oh, yes! it was because the Saviour was to come among
+them.  The Bible is all about the Jewish people, because Jesus was a
+Jew."
+
+"Was He?" said Selina wistfully.
+
+"Yes, and of course that is what it means.  Jesus died for all men.
+Jesus is the Son of God, and the son of Mary, you know."
+
+"No," said Selina gravely; "I don't know."
+
+"Well, never mind, we can read about it," said Frederica, turning the
+leaves of the Bible till she came to the first chapter of Matthew.  "It
+is all here, and we will read it."
+
+Going rapidly over the first verses to herself, till she came to the
+eighteenth, she then read, "Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this
+wise," and so on.  "Thou shalt call His name Jesus; for He shall save
+His people from their sins.  And they shall call His name Emmanuel,
+which being interpreted is, God with us."
+
+Frederica lingered over these passages, reading them many times, and
+trying to remember all that she had heard about them.
+
+"Jesus is God, you know, and He became man that He might die for us, and
+save us from our sins, as the verse says; and we ought to love Him, and
+obey Him, and serve Him."
+
+"Yes," said Selina, "if we only knew the way.  If we had any one to
+teach us."
+
+"We are going to learn the way.  It is all here; in the Bible, I mean,"
+said Frederica.
+
+"They all say that--Miss Robina, and Miss Pardie, and all of them.  And
+the clergymen say it in church.  And Mrs Glencairn said always that we
+must not mind what people say about religion, unless it is in the Bible.
+And Eppie told me once that God Himself would teach us."
+
+"And do you think He will?"
+
+"Yes, if we ask Him--when we say our prayers, you know."
+
+"When we say `Our Father,' you mean?"
+
+Every night and morning since she was a little child, Selina had said
+"Our Father."
+
+"Yes, and we may ask for other things, and God will give them.  We
+learned texts about it once, only I can't quite remember them.  This is
+one--`Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name, He will give it
+you.'  Jesus Himself says that."
+
+"And will He?" asked Selina.
+
+"Yes," said Frederica, with a little hesitation, "if we ask right
+things, I suppose."
+
+"And would He make me see, if I were to ask Him?  Oh, mama I only think
+if He would!"
+
+Mrs Vane clasped the eager little hand that touched hers, and sighed.
+
+"But, mama, He could do it.  He opened blind eyes many times while He
+was on earth, and His being in heaven now would make no difference.  He
+_could_ do it, I suppose," said Frederica, not knowing very well what to
+say.
+
+"And will He, do you think, if I ask Him?  Mama will ask Him too, and
+you and Tessie."
+
+"He could do it if He chose.  But perhaps it means not such things we
+are to ask for, but that He would teach us, and make us wise and good,
+and forgive us our sins, and take us to heaven when we die," said
+Frederica.  "And you are very happy as you are, dear!  You don't care
+very much about it, do you?" said she, kissing softly the beautiful
+blind eyes that were wet, though they were smiling, too.
+
+"Frederica, love, you are making your sister unhappy, I fear," said her
+mother anxiously.  "My darling, come to me!"
+
+Selina kissed her mother gently two or three times.  "Unhappy! no, mama.
+It was only for a moment, and it was for you that I wished it, mama,
+more than for myself."
+
+Her mother could only murmur fond words over her, as she caressed her
+tenderly.
+
+"But it cannot be true, all that Fred has been saying," broke in Tessie.
+"It is a pity.  But it is only one of Fred's ideas."
+
+"But it must be true, because Jesus said those very words, only I
+suppose we do not understand it yet," said Frederica.  "We will read
+more.  And, mama, Selina will see when she gets to heaven."
+
+Mrs Vane uttered an exclamation of impatience and astonishment.
+
+"Frederica! why do you say such things?"
+
+"Let us read more," said Selina, for she saw that her mother was
+troubled at the discussion.
+
+And so they read on.  Not in the Old Testament, but in the New.  They
+read of the wonderful words and deeds of our Lord, and Selina drank in
+the strange glad tidings with awe and delight.  She never in her
+mother's presence said anything more about her wish to see.  She spoke
+of it to her sisters, and for a little while the desire disturbed the
+gentle current of her thoughts and enjoyments.  But it passed away, and
+the sweet content that had brightened all these years to her mother came
+back again.  She listened, and mused, and wondered at all she heard, and
+by-and-by, as her mind opened, and she understood better the nature of
+those things that are promised without reserve to those who ask for them
+aright, she never ceased to ask humbly yet undoubtingly that to her and
+to those whom she loved, they might be given in due time.
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+And so the untroubled days passed, till Mr Vane came home again.  They
+were glad to see him, and indeed made a jubilee of the day of his
+return.  But there was an unconfessed fear in the heart of each that a
+change was at hand, and that their untroubled days were at an end.
+
+But the holidays were over, and nothing was said about the girls' return
+to Mrs Glencairn's.  If Mrs Ascot had been among them, that would have
+been settled long ago, but there was no one now eager to get them away,
+and no one to make the necessary arrangements, except their father, and
+so Tessie comforted herself with the thought that "there was always a
+chance that he would forget all about it."  Still she rejoiced with
+trembling, and went softly through the house, and kept out of sight,
+that he might not be unpleasantly reminded of his neglected duty.  This
+was not difficult to do, for their early breakfast was over before he
+came down in the morning, and he did not return to dinner till the hour
+at which the children took tea in their mother's parlour, and except
+during his brief visit after dinner, there was little chance of his
+seeing any of them.  And when one week was safely passed, and then
+another, Tessie began to think the danger of going back to school was
+over.
+
+Frederica had not shared her anxiety as far as being sent to Mrs
+Glencairn's was concerned, and the possibility of going to England
+involved so much more that would need consideration, and care, and
+expense, that she was not much afraid that her father would decide upon
+it at present.  So she took no pains to keep out of the way, but, on the
+contrary, assumed again the responsibility and dignity of housekeeper,
+and wore her key-basket at her waist, and made grave suggestions about
+housekeeping matters for his benefit.  She tried to amuse him, too, on
+such evenings as he did not go out after dinner, and had no one with
+him, and she succeeded so well that he missed her greatly when she did
+not come to him; and if it had not been for one unfortunate
+circumstance, a quiet winter might have followed the pleasant summer,
+and they might have all been at home together for a little longer.
+
+One night Mr Vane told Frederica that there was on the next day to be a
+grand review of troops at L--farm, and to her delight he promised to
+take her with him.  Unfortunately, however, as had happened before, the
+promise of the night was forgotten in the morning.  Frederica was
+disappointed of course, and a little angry, but she recovered her good
+temper immediately when Tessie suggested that she might go still, and
+take them all with her.  To be sure she could, and she congratulated
+herself on her father's forgetfulness; for now the pleasure would be
+doubled, and more than doubled; for not only Tessie and Selina could go,
+but their little brothers as well.  So Dixen, nothing loth, had the
+carriage at the door in less time than usual.  They did not even have
+the thought of leaving their mother alone to mar the prospect of their
+enjoyment; for Miss Grant, having given the boys a holiday, kindly
+offered to stay with Mrs Vane till they all came home again.
+
+It never came into their minds that they might be doing wrong, or that
+their father might be displeased with them for venturing into such a
+crowd, or they might have placed themselves in a less conspicuous
+position, and at a greater distance from that part of the grounds where
+many of the fashionable people of the town had stationed themselves.  It
+never occurred to them either, that while they found so much interest
+and amusement in watching and commenting upon the people and the
+equipages crowded so closely round them, others might find the same
+interest in regarding them.  Indeed, they made rather a remarkable
+group, the young girls and their brothers, and old Dixen, and Jack and
+Jill together, and it is not likely that Mr Vane and his daughter Mrs
+Brandon, or the party of equestrians who were with them, would have
+passed without observing them, even if little Hubert had not at the
+sight of them called out,--
+
+"Papa, papa, here we are! come this way, papa."
+
+The little boy had clambered up on the high seat of the carriage beside
+Dixen.  Tessie was leaning over them, and Frederica was standing on the
+low step of the carriage, eagerly describing to Selina all that was
+going on around them.  But it was Selina who was the central figure of
+the group, to which all eyes turned.  The younger girls were simply and
+quietly dressed in proper school-girl fashion, but they had decked their
+fair blind sister in beautiful and costly things; and her bright serene
+face, and her long golden curls shading it, made a very lovely picture.
+No one would have imagined that those clear sweet eyes were blind,
+except that she sat so still and so unconscious of the looks that were
+bent upon her.
+
+"Hush, Hubert?" whispered Tessie.  "Do not call again.  Papa does not
+look pleased."
+
+He looked by no means pleased.  Unfortunately for his good temper, he
+did not hear the murmur of surprise and admiration that rose from some
+of the party, because he was listening to Mrs Brandon, who was
+saying,--
+
+"How foolish and wrong, and what bad taste, for these girls to be here
+alone!  Papa, I am surprised that you should allow it!  The horses are
+not taken from the carriage.  There will be an accident certainly."
+
+Mr Vane laughed.
+
+"With Jack and Jill!  Hardly, while old Dixen is by them."
+
+"But they ought not to have come without a gentleman to take care of
+them.  You should send them home."
+
+"Through this crowd?  They are safer where they are at present."
+
+A movement in the throng of people permitted a nearer approach to the
+carriage.  Tessie, who had seen her father's face, seated herself to
+watch him as he came near, but Frederica was still talking rapidly and
+eagerly to Selina.  She started as he touched her on the shoulder with
+the end of his riding-whip, but she did not look at all as if she
+expected to be reproved.  She smiled and nodded gaily to him and Mrs
+Brandon.
+
+"You see we are all here, papa.  I wish they would begin."
+
+There was some delay in the bringing up of the soldiers.  The crowd was
+getting impatient, and moved to and fro about them; and in the movement,
+some of Mr Vane's friends, having dismounted and given their horses
+into safe keeping, came round the carriage, and, as Mr Vane whispered
+to Mrs Brandon, there were soon gentlemen enough about them.  Frederica
+had seen most of them before, but they were not people that she cared
+for, and she whispered to Selina that she was sadly afraid their
+pleasure was to be spoiled.  She greeted them politely, however, and
+mentioned their names to Selina.
+
+"But you need not mind them," added she, in a whisper.  "They'll go away
+directly, I daresay.  Now the soldiers are ready to begin, and I will
+tell you what they do."
+
+And so she did.  Standing on the seat where her sister sat, that she
+might see the better, she described in a low rapid voice the marching
+and countermarching, and all the movements of the men; and when she
+became silent, Tessie spoke, and the boys sometimes broke eagerly in.
+And through all, Selina listened and smiled with a face of such sweet
+content, such seeming unconsciousness of misfortune or loss, that tears
+came to the eyes of some that were looking on.  Even her father saw her
+wonderful beauty and sweetness, and her affliction, with a new sense of
+surprise and pain, and sighed as he regarded her.
+
+It grew tiresome at last to those who did not understand the movements
+of the soldiers, or the skill and drill needed to ensure success in all
+the wonderful evolutions through which they were put; and so, when at
+length a clear space was made near the carriage, they began to speak of
+going home.
+
+"Mama will be getting anxious," said Selina softly to one who urged them
+to stay longer.
+
+"And there will be nothing more.  It will be the same thing over and
+over again," said Tessie.  "There will be music, I suppose, and you will
+like that, Lina."
+
+"Still, if Hubert and Charlie are ready, I think we should go," said
+Selina.
+
+The boys were by no means ready to go, but their indignant outcry was
+interrupted by their father.
+
+"Now that the way is clear you must go," said he, "or you may get
+entangled among the carriages and be hurt."
+
+And then the misfortune of the day happened.  Mrs Brandon, meaning to
+be very kind, and meaning also to gratify the curiosity of some of her
+friends, who had been expressing a wish to see more of her young
+sisters, invited them all to luncheon before they should return home.
+Frederica politely but promptly declined for them all.
+
+"We said we should be home to dinner, and mama will be anxious," said
+she.
+
+"But the boys can tell her that you have stayed with me.  Papa is
+coming, and several others.  She will not care."
+
+"No, I suppose not, but we are tired, and it will be much nicer to visit
+you some time when you are alone.  Excuse me.  It is quite impossible,"
+added Frederica, as Mrs Brandon continued to urge her.
+
+Her last words were spoken in an air and manner "not in the least like
+Fred," her father said to himself, as he listened.  But Mrs Brandon
+thought it was exactly like Fred--"the naughty little thing."  She had
+more than once noticed this disagreeable manner in her intercourse with
+her younger sister, and had spoken of it to her father, and to him she
+now turned her disapproving eyes.  So Mr Vane interposed.
+
+"Nonsense, Fred!  What difference can it make?  Stay of course--not you,
+Tessie, nor the boys!  Dixen can come for you later.  Now, Dixen, take
+care."
+
+Frederica was indignant, and said quite enough to her sisters on their
+way down, but to her father she only said, "Very well, papa," with an
+air of offended dignity that made him laugh.
+
+"However," added she, when she had said all that was necessary, and a
+little more, "I may as well make the best of it, and amuse myself as
+well as I can."
+
+So when Mrs Brandon arrived a little while afterwards, they found her
+walking about on the lawn, quite ready to amuse, and to be amused.  But
+her troubles were not over.  It was Selina especially, it seemed, whom
+Mrs Brandon had wished to stay, and she had gone home.  There were many
+regrets expressed by her and by the others.  They had been so desirous
+to know Miss Vane, and to hear her sing, and so on.
+
+"It is a pity you were not more explicit, Caroline," said Frederica.
+"However, it would have made no difference.  Selina's staying was quite
+out of the question."
+
+"I am sure I can't understand why," said Mrs Brandon.
+
+"Can you not?  It is quite true, however."
+
+Mrs Brandon turned her eyes on her father, who had just entered the
+room.  It must be acknowledged that Fred was not behaving well.  Her
+manner was by no means respectful to her elder sister, and her tones and
+the flash of her eye showed that she was out of temper.
+
+"What is the matter, Fred?" asked her father.
+
+"We are all disappointed that Miss Vane did not stay," said some one,
+with the kind intention of smoothing matters for Fred.
+
+"Fred thinks Selina would not have enjoyed it," said Mrs Brandon.
+
+"Mama would not have wished it," said Frederica, walking away, as though
+there was nothing more to be said.
+
+Of course, it was all a failure after this, as far as Frederica was
+concerned.  At another time she would have looked and listened, and
+amused herself with all that was going on.  But she felt cross; and what
+was worse, she knew that all these people must be thinking her very rude
+and ill-bred.  No one noticed her much nor spoke to her, and though she
+knew she deserved it, she was indignant at being treated like an
+ill-tempered child.  Especially was she indignant with her sister for
+bringing all this upon her.  So at the first possible moment she excused
+herself from the table, at which the rest seemed inclined to linger, and
+went out into the garden.
+
+Her ill-temper and discomfort did not trouble her after that.  She
+forgot it utterly; for here she found the nurse with her sister's
+beautiful baby, and every trace of annoyance vanished at the sight.
+Here her sister found her in a little while.  She had come in search of
+her, intending to speak a few serious words to her about her foolish
+conduct.  But when she saw the girl's bright face as she kneeled on the
+grass, clasping and kissing the pretty boy, she too forgot her vexation.
+
+"O Caroline I was there ever so lovely a child before?  How happy you
+must be?"
+
+And then she wondered over him--his beauty, his murmuring and cooing,
+and pretty baby ways, and her delight was perfect, when he refused to go
+to his mother from her arms.  Was there ever such a triumph?  The baby
+was a very pretty baby, and the young girl's delight over him was pretty
+too, and in the midst of it Dixen came for her, and Mrs Brandon had no
+time for the serious words which she felt it to be her duty to speak,
+"for poor papa's sake."  But she set her conscience at rest by saying
+all the more to papa himself, and the immediate result of her advice was
+that Tessie was sent at once back to Mrs Glencairn's, and Frederica was
+advised to prepare herself to be sent elsewhere very soon.
+
+Poor Tessie thought it rather hard that she should be made to suffer for
+Fred's faults.  That was the way she put the matter to herself, but it
+was a very good thing for her to be sent to school again.  She begged
+hard to go with her sister, wherever she should be sent, but this could
+not be; and her dissatisfaction did not continue long after she was
+fairly back at school, for Mrs Glencairn's house was a very good place
+to be in, and Tessie was reasonable, and by-and-by content.
+
+As for Frederica, it would have been as well for her if she had been
+sent to Mrs Glencairn's too, for she and her mother and Selina made
+themselves unhappy in their uncertainty as to where she was to be sent.
+But when week after week passed, and nothing more was said on the
+subject, they began to take courage again, and to hope that she might
+not be sent away at all.  And she was not, but it would have been much
+better for her if she had.
+
+For this was not a profitable winter to Frederica.  They had a happy
+month or two, she and her mother and Selina; they lived the same
+uneventful quiet life that the summer had brought them, and every little
+pleasure they enjoyed was doubled to Mrs Vane and Selina, because
+Frederica enjoyed it with them.  They went on faithfully and regularly
+with their reading of the Bible, and for a time Frederica fulfilled her
+promise; and went over her old school lessons with her sister, and took
+great pride and pleasure in the progress that she made.  They practised
+their music together, and a teacher came to give them lessons; and
+Frederica assured her father, that instead of losing her time, as Mrs
+Brandon had declared, she had never been so well and so happily employed
+as now.  Whether he thought so too, or whether he was prevented by other
+reasons besides indolence from deciding on a proper school for her,
+could not be told, but the winter was nearly over before another word
+was said about her going away.
+
+It was near Christmas time that Frederica began to be a good deal at the
+house of her half-sister, Mrs Brandon, and to go with her a good deal
+to other houses, and then the tenor of her life for a time was quite
+changed.  It began very naturally and simply.  There was a children's
+party at Mrs Brandon's house, to celebrate the first birthday of her
+little boy.  Frederica was asked, and her brothers, and they all went
+and enjoyed it.  Frederica threw herself into the pleasure of amusing
+the little people with all her heart.  It was a delight to her, and her
+success was entire.  The enjoyment was perfect to them all.  The evening
+passed without one of the unfortunate incidents so likely to occur on
+such occasions, and no child enjoyed it better than Frederica.
+
+It was called a children's party, but there were many people there
+besides children, and it is not surprising that the bright young girl,
+"with the playfulness of a child and the sense of a woman," should
+attract admiring attention.  She threw herself so heartily and prettily
+into the amusement of the little ones, they said to one another and to
+Mrs Brandon.  She was so clever and charming, and so unconscious of it.
+A great many foolish things were said, and some of them were said to
+Frederica.  Of course she thought it all very agreeable, and showed
+herself equal to the entertainment of grown people as well as children,
+and enjoyed it all.
+
+This "children's party" led to others, and to parties of grown people as
+well, and by-and-by the character of these gay doings changed
+altogether.  The simple dresses and ornaments that had at first been
+considered quite sufficient were laid aside for dresses of a different
+kind.  Her mother's long-neglected treasures of laces, and silks, and
+other fine things, were turned over in search of materials for her
+adornment, and even her jewel cases were examined, and certain of their
+contents appropriated for the same purpose.
+
+Frederica had always taken pride in knowing that Mrs Glencairn spoke of
+her as "sensible" and as "a discreet young person," and she had been
+very much in earnest to prove to her father and mother that Mrs
+Glencairn was right.  But notwithstanding her sense and her discretion,
+no one will be surprised to hear that for a time she enjoyed greatly the
+excitement and gaiety of her life.  For though it is quite true that no
+real and lasting happiness can be obtained in the pursuit of pleasures
+such as these, yet it cannot be denied that to a young girl like
+Frederica, the first experience of a life of this kind gives a delight
+which seems real, and sweet, and satisfying, and which, in a certain
+sense, is so while it lasts.  And so she threw herself into all these
+things with all her heart, and enjoyed them, without a thought that she
+was in danger from such a life.
+
+Her mother, remembering her own youth, her brief triumphs, and long
+disappointments, sent her thoughts after her into those gay scenes with
+vague but painful anxiety.  But this always vanished in Frederica's
+presence.  If she made a feeble attempt now and then to remonstrate with
+her, or with her father, against such constant gaiety, it was only
+because the child was so young, and not at all because she thought such
+a life of pleasure wrong in itself.  She knew of no other kind of life
+for the rich and well-born; and though she could not look forward to
+such a life for her daughters without anxiety, yet she was incapable of
+planning, or even of imagining, any other for them.  If they all could
+have remained together content with the quiet enjoyments that had come
+to them in the past summer, while their father was away, she would have
+sought no other life for them.  But that was quite impossible, she
+thought with a sigh.
+
+There was no one to tell Frederica that she was in danger.  All her
+mother's fears were vague and indistinct.  They seemed to her daughter,
+and even to herself, when she spoke of them, to be nervous fancies,
+natural enough in her state of illness and seclusion, a natural
+shrinking from any possible cause of change or pain.  And so they both
+put away such thoughts, and the mother strove to take pleasure in the
+many costly and beautiful things brought for her approval for the
+adornment of her daughter.
+
+Even Selina listened happily to her sister's merry recitals of all she
+saw and heard and enjoyed, and offered her soft touch to the rich and
+delicate fabrics, to the laces and flowers and jewels that she wore,
+without a thought of trouble or danger to the sister whom she loved so
+well.
+
+But Frederica was in danger all the same.  She was in danger of losing
+that sweet naturalness and girlish simplicity which even to the worldly
+people with whom she mingled made her chief charm; she was in danger of
+growing vain and frivolous and foolish, of forgetting all the serious
+views of life that had so filled her thoughts, of ceasing to strive for,
+or to value, a knowledge of those truths which were to bring such peace
+and patience; such blessed hopes to her suffering mother, and such
+happiness to them all.  Nay, she was in danger even of neglecting her
+mother and her blind sister, of giving up the sweet office so eagerly
+coveted and claimed, of being their comforter and guardian, and of
+living to herself and her own selfish enjoyment.
+
+All this has happened to others who have given themselves up to a life
+of worldly pleasure, and this must have been the end to Frederica, if
+such a life had continued long.
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+In the beginning of March, there came a letter to Mr Vane, announcing
+the approaching marriage of his second daughter Cecilia, and begging him
+to be present at the ceremony, which was to take place at the end of
+April.  Something had been said by Mr Vane, every year for the last
+ten, about going home to England; but sometimes for one reason, and
+sometimes for another, he had never carried out his design.  This
+announcement and invitation induced him to take the matter into serious
+consideration this time, and Mrs Brandon's suggestion that the
+opportunity would be a good one to take Frederica home for the
+completion of her education, decided him to make arrangements at once
+for going.  Indeed, he by-and-by convinced himself, and endeavoured to
+convince others, that it was for Frederica's sake, and not at all for
+his own pleasure, that the voyage was to be undertaken, and thus
+especially was it represented to Mr St. Cyr.
+
+Frederica was not so pained by her father's sudden determination as she
+would have been in the autumn.  Of course, the thought of school was not
+quite agreeable to her after the winter she had spent, but there was the
+voyage, and possibly a gay wedding to come first; and if it had not been
+for the thought of leaving her mother and Selina, the prospect would not
+have been disagreeable.  And she could not help thinking that they would
+miss her less than they would have done six months before.
+
+But it did not seem so to them.  The thought of losing her was almost
+more than her mother could bear.  But there was nothing to be said:
+discussion would make no difference to Mr Vane's decision.  There was
+little time for discussion or preparation.  All that Frederica needed,
+could be got as well in England, her father said, and there was no time
+to lose.
+
+A suitable person to take charge of the home, and of all household
+matters during the year, had to be sought, and through the kind
+exertions of Mr Jerome St. Cyr, such a one was found, a very pleasing
+person she seemed, and she came highly recommended.  She was a large
+fair woman, with a pale face that was very pleasing when she smiled, and
+her eyes were at the same time kind and searching.  Her voice in
+speaking, and her manner and movements, were very soft and gentle, and
+she was, Frederica though the very opposite of Mrs Ascot in all
+respects.
+
+But her gentleness did not give one the idea that she was weak.  On the
+contrary, she was very strong and firm, as well as gentle, as they all
+had an opportunity of seeing, even the first day of her coming among
+them.  For the two boys were ill when she came.  They had taken cold, it
+was supposed, and little Hubert, from his persistent refusal to take his
+medicine, seemed to be becoming very ill indeed.  But there was an end
+to all this, as soon as ever Miss Agnace understood the matter.  In a
+moment the refractory little lad was placed in her lap, and by some
+extraordinary exertion of skill and will on her part, the bitter draught
+was swallowed by him, and he was laid quietly and comfortably in bed
+again.  Frederica looked on with mingled astonishment and admiration.
+
+"I have been accustomed to be with sick children," said Miss Agnace
+quietly.
+
+"I wonder if that is the way she would take with mama or Selina," said
+Frederica to herself.  "I can easily imagine her taking me up and
+dealing with me in that peremptory way; but mama, who must be so gently
+managed--oh! how can I ever go away, and leave her? oh!  I cannot?" and
+though she knew her tears were vain, she wept bitterly for a long time.
+
+She had an opportunity very soon of knowing how Miss Agnace would deal
+with her in little Hubert's place.  For the illness of her brothers
+proved to be not mere colds, as was at first supposed, but a severe form
+of one of those diseases of childhood, which generally pass through a
+whole household when one has been seized.  In a few days Frederica was
+very ill, much more ill than either of the boys had been, and helpless,
+and miserable, she was entirely given up to the care of Miss Agnace; for
+neither her mother nor Selina was permitted to enter her room.
+
+Gentle and firm.  That exactly described her nurse's treatment.  She was
+taken entirely out of her own hands, which was indeed the very best
+thing that could have happened to her, and found herself yielding in all
+things to the firm and gentle rule of Miss Agnace.  She was not always
+quite herself, and slept and woke, and tossed and murmured, with the
+vaguest possible idea of what was happening around her, or how the time
+was passing.  She had the strangest dreams and fancies, and said things,
+and asked questions, which her nurse could only meet by her calm
+surprised look and silence.
+
+Once she saw, just within the door of her room, some one whom she at
+first supposed was the doctor, but then it seemed to be Mr St. Cyr's
+brother who was speaking with Miss Agnace, and she thought she heard him
+say that she must not go to England with her father, and that God had
+sent this sickness to keep her at home.  She said to herself she was
+surely dreaming, and shut her eyes; and when she opened them again,
+there was only Miss Agnace offering her the bitter medicine with a
+smile.
+
+And so one day passed after another, till the day fixed for their
+departure drew near.  Nothing could be clearer, however, than that no
+departure was possible for Frederica.  Nor was there much hope of her
+being so far recovered as to be able to leave at the latest day that
+would admit of their reaching England in time for the wedding.  So Mr
+Vane spoke rather vaguely of making arrangements for her to go by some
+other opportunity, and set out alone.  Frederica did not know whether
+she was glad or sorry at being left at home.  She was too restless and
+weak to take pleasure in anything, and longed so for a change of some
+kind, that she could very easily have persuaded herself that she was
+disappointed at being left.  But she had no thought to think about it or
+about anything for a time.  She could only toss restlessly on her bed,
+or sit listlessly in the large easy-chair, when she was at last
+permitted to rise.
+
+Her little brothers were well and strong by this time, and came to see
+her every day.  They tried to wait upon her, and to amuse her gently and
+quietly, but they tired her inexpressibly, and she could not endure them
+long.  Her mother came ice a day to see her, but she was only allowed to
+remain a few minutes with her, and Selina was not permitted to come near
+her, lest she also should take the disease.  So she was left almost
+entirely with Miss Agnace, who was very kind to her, she told her
+mother, who never failed to ask the question when she came.
+
+Yes, she was very kind; that did not prevent the days from being long
+and tedious; and Frederica, forgetting that she had been counted a young
+lady all the winter, grew childish, and petulant, and ill to please.
+But Miss Agnace never lost patience, and was never otherwise than gentle
+with her, even when she was most firm in making her do all that the
+doctor desired.
+
+Books were entirely forbidden.  The doctor said her eyes were quite too
+weak to be used, and that her sight might be permanently injured if she
+were to read much now.  Miss Agnace in this matter obeyed the doctor to
+the letter, and carried every book--even little Hubert's large-print
+Testament--away.
+
+Now and then, as she grew stronger, Miss Agnace told her stories, to
+which she liked to listen.  They were almost all about _very_ good
+people who lived a great many years ago--wonderful stories some of them
+were, "If one only could believe them," Frederica used to say to
+herself.  One day she said it to Miss Agnace, and for the first time her
+fair still face lost its calm, and looked angry.
+
+"Well, but that does sound rather like a fairy story, now doesn't it?"
+said Frederica, moved from her usual indifference by the unwonted sight
+of the nurse's indignation.  "Of course it does not really mean that the
+loaves of bread all turned to roses in the lady's lap, when her cruel
+husband made her afraid.  It is an allegory, is it not?  Not exactly to
+be received as having really happened.  It is a very pretty story, and
+you must not be angry, because I did not mean to offend you."
+
+All this was not said at once, but with a pause now and then.
+
+"Angry! no, why should I be angry?  You know no better, poor child, poor
+unhappy child!"
+
+Frederica did not consider herself particularly happy just at this time,
+but it was not at all for the reason that Miss Agnace seemed to
+intimate.
+
+"Why do you say so?  Why am I so unhappy?" asked she.
+
+"Because you have no religion," said Miss Agnace solemnly; "because you
+do not believe."
+
+It was perfectly true, and Frederica acknowledged in her heart, but not
+in the sense or for the reason that Miss Agnace seemed to imagine; so
+she said lightly,--
+
+"A great many religious people refuse to believe such tales as these.
+They are very pretty, you know, and perhaps they have valuable lessons,
+but as for having, really happened!  Such things don't happen now."
+
+"That is not true.  Such things do happen still.  Not frequently, but
+when God has a purpose to accomplish, a blessing to convey."
+
+"Tell me something that has happened lately," said Frederica, forgetting
+all else in her eagerness for a story.
+
+And so she did, and sometimes Frederica was interested, and sometimes
+she was amused.  She heard of lame people who had been made to walk, of
+pictures which had spoken, of images which had wept, and many more of
+the same kind.
+
+"But I don't quite see the good of it, even if these things were all
+true," she said at last.
+
+"My child," said Miss Agnace gravely, "they are true.  We have for their
+truth the authority of men to whom a lie is impossible.  Do not say, `If
+they are true.'"
+
+"And does it make you happy to believe these things?" asked Frederica.
+
+"Happy?" repeated Miss Agnace; "can any one be happy who does not
+believe?  Are you happy?  Were you happy when you were so ill, when you
+thought you might die?  Were you not afraid?"
+
+"Was I so ill as that?" asked Frederica, startled.  "I never thought of
+dying.  If I had, I daresay I should have been afraid.  Did mama think
+so, and Selina?  How sorry they must have been!  And papa went away all
+the same."
+
+She had no heart for any more wonderful stories that day.  She lay quite
+silent for a long time after that, but she was not resting or at ease,
+for her face was flushed, and she grew restless and impatient; nothing
+pleased her, and she thought the day would never be done.  She had all
+the impatience to herself, however, for Miss Agnace was as gentle and
+helpful as ever, and bathed her hot hands and head, and soothed her till
+she lost the sense of her troubles in sleep.
+
+But another day came after that, and many days that had to be got
+through somehow.  Her mother could not be much with her, and her
+brothers tired her.  The cold March winds made it not safe for her to
+drive out, and poor Fred longed for Tessie, and would have given half
+her treasures to be transported to Mistress Campbell's garret for a
+single day.  And thus thinking of Eppie, and of "the days of her youth,"
+of which she used to tell her, it came into Frederica's mind to wonder
+what had happened to Miss Agnace when she was a child.  For though she
+had talked much with her, both by night and by day, she had a way of
+falling back on one theme--the good deeds which the saints had done, and
+which all people ought to strive to do: and all this grew tedious when
+it was repeated over and over again, and Frederica longed for something
+else, and so she asked her,--
+
+"When were you born, Miss Agnace?  Have you brothers and sisters?  Tell
+me about the days when you were young, as Eppie used to do.  Has
+anything wonderful ever happened to you?"
+
+Miss Agnace looked at her in smiling surprise.
+
+"I have nothing to tell.  Nothing wonderful ever happened to me."
+
+"But still tell me about your childhood."
+
+Miss Agnace told her a good many things, but certainly nothing
+wonderful.  She was one of a large family.  She had been sent to a
+convent school at the age of nine, and remained a pupil till she was
+nearly seventeen.  There had been no incidents in her school life.
+Everything went on quietly, and happily that was all.  Yes, she had
+favourite companions.  One died, and one married, and the best loved one
+of all was lost on a steamer on one of the great lakes.  She could tell
+no more than that.
+
+"And since you left school?" asked Frederica.
+
+"Nothing has happened to me since then.  I have had a busy life, and
+have been content with it," said Miss Agnace, rising to leave the room.
+She was away a good while; but when she came back, carrying Frederica's
+tea on a tray, the young girl said, as though there had been no pause,--
+
+"Well, and what have you been busy about and content with since then?"
+
+Miss Agnace did not answer immediately.  It was evident that she did not
+wish to continue the conversation, only she did not know how to help it.
+She was not a clever person, and she could not "make up" an answer in a
+moment.  So she said,--"I have been nursing sick people much of the
+time--sometimes in one place and sometimes in another.  Yes, I have been
+a good deal in St. P.'s Hospital."
+
+"Oh!" said Frederica eagerly, "you are one of the sisters?"
+
+"I am a nursing sister, yes."
+
+"And were they willing to let you come here?  You do not wear the
+sisters' dress.  It was a very good thing you came here.  What should we
+have done all this time?  Was it Mr St. Cyr who sent you?  Do you like
+to stay here, better than in the Hospital?"
+
+Frederica could not expect that all her questions should be answered.
+Miss Agnace looked relieved as she listened to her.
+
+"Yes, it was Mr St. Cyr who sent me.  I like to stay here very well.  I
+am glad to be of use."
+
+"You are very kind.  I ought to call you Sister Agnace, ought I not? or
+`Ma tante,' as the convent girls do?  How odd that you should be here!
+And have you been nursing sick people all your life?  You must have seen
+a great many sorrowful sights."
+
+"Yes, a great many sorrowful sights," repeated Miss Agnace gravely; "but
+not all sorrowful.  I have seen the joyful ending of many a troubled
+life, which is a happy thing to see."
+
+And she told her that night, and afterwards, about many sorrowful and
+joyful things, sickness and pain, grief and disappointment, and the
+blessed endings of all these; and a new view of life was presented to
+Frederica as she listened.  She was getting better by this time, but not
+rapidly, and she did not grow cheerful and bright, as she ought to have
+done, when she was able to go out with her little brothers in the fine
+April days.  Mrs Brandon came to see her, and would have taken her home
+with her for a few days, for a change, but because of baby it was not
+considered safe to do so, and she was obliged to content herself with
+the company of Miss Agnace and an hour's reading now and then.
+
+She was not very happy these days.  She did not look back with much
+satisfaction on the winter.  It had been agreeable enough in passing,
+and she had not been taught that such a life was wrong, or might lead to
+wrong--that "she who liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth."  But
+somehow she was not content with herself.  She had a feeling that she
+had "been weighed in the balance, and found wanting;" that she had not
+proved herself wise, or sensible, or discreet, as she had sometimes been
+called; that she had been seeking her own pleasure rather than the
+comfort of her mother and Selina.  She had even been able to look
+forward to the prospect of leaving them for a long time, not without
+pain, certainly, but still with a vague expectation of enjoying the
+change for herself.  She had failed them, and thinking about it made her
+more unhappy than she had ever been in all her life before.
+
+But the root of her trouble lay deeper than any of these things.  A year
+ago she had pleased herself with the thought that she wished to become
+religious, to become a Christian, not in name merely, but in reality.
+She then wished this less for herself than for her mother.  She had felt
+the need less for herself, because she was young, and strong, and happy.
+But she had been near death, they told her, since then; and now, as her
+thoughts went back to that time, she could not but ask herself, What if
+she had died? would it have been the end of all trouble to her, as Miss
+Agnace said it was to so many of the suffering poor creatures, whose
+eyes she had closed?  She hoped so.  She had never done anything very
+wrong.  She wished to be good.
+
+But she was not religious.  At least, she had not the religion that
+would make her happy in the midst of suffering and in the prospect of
+death.  And when she thought of it in this way, she was not so sure that
+it would have been well with her if she had died.
+
+"But how am I to know?" said she, as she had many times said before.
+"People think so differently.  Eppie said, If I asked Him, God would
+teach me, or send me a teacher.  I have asked Him, though not so often
+as I might have done.  But I will ask Him.  Perhaps He has sent Miss
+Agnace."
+
+She sat up in the easy-chair in which she had been reclining.
+
+"Miss Agnace, tell me about your religion.  There are so many different
+sorts, you know; and I want to know about yours."
+
+Miss Agnace shook her head gravely.
+
+"There is only one true religion--one true Church.  There are many
+sects, but there is but one Church."
+
+"And that is yours?  Eppie thought it was hers.  But tell me about
+yours."
+
+She had plenty to tell her, such as it was.  She told her about the only
+true Church, the only place of happiness and safety.  She told her about
+its ceremonies, and worship, and sacraments.  She told her about
+confession and penance, and of the blessedness of those who have their
+sins forgiven.  She told her about Mary and the saints in heaven, and
+about our blessed Lord who may be approached through them.  She said a
+great deal about the good works of all kinds that would win the favour
+of these.  Above all, she insisted on the necessity of submitting
+implicitly to the requirements of the Church, of having no will of one's
+own in such matters, and spoke severely of the pride and folly of those
+who ventured to take the law of God, and interpret it for themselves,
+without availing themselves of the teaching of those whom God had
+appointed for the work.  She grew very earnest as she went on, but she
+did not speak very wisely.  She certainly did not say anything that
+touched the heart, or gave light to the eyes of Frederica.
+
+It is possible that if the Rev Mr St. Cyr had known the state of
+Frederica's mind, or if he could have contemplated the possibility of
+such an opportunity occurring for influencing her heart or her opinions,
+it would not have been Sister Agnace who would have been sent to Mrs
+Vane's house.  It would have been some one whose natural powers and
+acquirements better fitted her for the work of proselytism, which was,
+indeed, the work he had in view.  But that was to come later, as time
+and events might permit.  In the meantime Miss Agnace was a perfect
+instrument for the work he had given her to do.  She was a born nurse,
+with strong nerves and a tender heart, gentle, patient, and firm.  She
+was disciplined, experienced, and skilful, just the nurse to make life
+tolerable, even pleasant, to a confined invalid like Mrs Vane, and this
+was the office for which she was intended.
+
+She was not clever, nor intelligent, nor very devout, but she had
+learned obedience.  She was not her own.  She had no will or judgment of
+her own on many matters.  Her confessor was her conscience.  Her idea of
+right was implicit obedience to him, and to the Superior of her order.
+Whatever they required her to do was right in her esteem, and hitherto
+nothing had been required of her likely to suggest questions to her
+mind.  Her life had hitherto been so busy and so useful as to leave her
+no time for questioning; and in coming to Mrs Vane's, she was conscious
+only of a wish to do her duty to her employer on the one hand, and to
+those who had sent her on the other, without an idea that it might be
+difficult to do both.
+
+She grew very fond of Frederica during these days.  Frederica was
+impatient often, and grew tired alike of her silence, and of her soft
+voice murmuring on about the blessed saints; but Miss Agnace never lost
+patience with her.  She saw that the young girl was not at rest, and
+that she wished for something else, even more than she longed for health
+or society; and she longed to lead her into those paths where alone, she
+believed, true happiness could be found--the paths of entire submission
+of heart and will and judgment to the only true Church.  But she did not
+succeed, and she was not surprised.  She was a humble woman, with no
+wise words on her tongue, by which she might convince or teach one
+brought up in error, or bring her into the right way, and one day she
+told her so, and added,--
+
+"But you should let me send for some one who is wise, and who has
+authority; and when you are well, you must go with me to church, and
+tell all your troubled thoughts to the blessed Mother.  You should let
+me ask the Rev Mr St. Cyr to come and talk with you."
+
+"I should like to see almost any one, it is so dull," said Frederica
+with a sigh, "but I don't like the Rev Mr St. Cyr.  Oh!  I daresay he
+is very good and all that," added she, as she saw that Miss Agnace
+looked displeased, "but I don't know him, and he certainly has not a
+nice face."
+
+"But that is a small matter," said Miss Agnace severely.  "He is wise,
+and he has authority, and he would know what to say to you.  He would
+show you the truth."
+
+Frederica was by no means sure that she cared about having the truth
+shown to her by Mr Jerome St. Cyr, or that her father would be pleased
+to have him visit her.
+
+"I like you to teach me far better than I should like Mr Jerome St.
+Cyr," said Frederica, "because, I know you believe what you say; and
+besides, I can trust you.  And I always feel uncomfortable with Mr
+Jerome."
+
+"You may trust Mr Jerome.  He loves you dearly," said Miss Agnace, but
+she said no more at that time.
+
+She quite believed that Mr Jerome loved them, and sought their good.
+Was he not interested in all that took place among them?  It never came
+into her thoughts that she was betraying confidence, or acting in any
+way unworthily, by telling him every incident of their daily life.  She
+was not always aware how much, in answer to his apparently careless
+questioning, she made known; for there was little to tell--trifling
+details of their daily life, incidents that had no significance, except
+as they tended to show the tastes or tempers of the children of the
+house, which could only interest one who loved them, as she was sure he
+did.
+
+By-and-by he permitted her to see that he had a definite motive and plan
+in listening to all the details which seemed so trifling.  He wished to
+gather from them some means of judging in what manner they might best be
+influenced in the right direction, should an opportunity to do so
+present itself at some future time.
+
+Miss Agnace strongly desired for these children and their mother, that
+they should be brought to a knowledge of the truth, and she assented
+when the priest told her that it was a blessed thing for her to be
+permitted to aid, even indirectly, in this good work.  She did not doubt
+the excellence of his motives, or his right to claim her help, and she
+never thought of refusing obedience to his lightest word.  But when
+Frederica said, "I can trust _you_," a painful sense of being not worthy
+of the girl's confidence came upon her for a moment.  It was only for a
+moment, however; at least, it was only till she spoke to Father Jerome
+about it--then she believed, as he told her, that it was a temptation of
+Satan to hinder her from doing God's work, and she prayed and strove
+against it with success.
+
+Soon after this Mr Jerome came to see Frederica, but he brought none of
+the strong arguments, none of the words of wisdom, that Miss Agnace had
+promised.  He made himself very agreeable to the young girl, told her
+amusing tales of the lands in which he had travelled, and made an
+attempt at teaching her the interesting game of "Tric trac," before he
+went away.  Frederica acknowledged that he was agreeable, and that his
+face was not so bad when he was speaking and smiling, as when it was
+quite at rest.  He came often after that; but Frederica was soon able to
+leave her room and become one of the family again, so that she only
+shared his visits with the rest.  He made himself very agreeable to them
+all.  He was a fine musician, and proposed to teach Selina to play, as
+he had seen the blind taught in Europe; and of course this gave pleasure
+to them all.  He laid himself out especially to please the boys, Charles
+and Hubert, and succeeded.  Even Tessie who was inclined to be critical
+and even rude to him at first, yielded to his determined attempts to
+please.
+
+Frederica would have liked him too, if it had not come into her mind
+that he was taking all this pains for some other reason than the mere
+wish to be agreeable.  And the same thought came into the mind of her
+mother.  Mrs Vane had some unpleasant remembrances of him, in the days
+when she had known him better than she did now, and his visits did not
+give her unmingled satisfaction.  But they did not speak to one another
+about him for a long time.  They enjoyed Selina's pleasure, and the
+pleasure of the little boys, who shared his attention, and went with him
+on expeditions of various kinds.  They had a very quiet time till Tessie
+came home for the holidays.  Frederica was not long in throwing off all
+invalid habits, and growing well and strong again, but she was quieter
+and graver than she used to be before her illness, and the summer did
+not, even after Tessie's returning, promise to be so merry or so idle as
+the last had been.
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+Mr Vane's first letter brought an account of the wedding, and of the
+gaieties attending it, and his next told them that he had made up his
+mind to pass the summer on the Continent, returning to spend a month in
+England in the autumn, before he went home.  They heard afterwards from
+Paris, and then from Rome, but for a time nothing more was said about
+Frederica's going to England.
+
+As for Frederica, she said less than she used to do about being "grown
+up" and "sensible," but she was more thoughtful and quiet than she had
+ever been before; and, with the advice and assistance of Miss Robina,
+laid out for herself a regular course of reading, which she pursued with
+praiseworthy diligence, considering all things.  The reading of the
+Bible with her mother and Selina was commenced again, and nothing was
+permitted to interfere with it.  She began also to take her little
+brothers regularly to church, and to listen and try to understand all
+that she heard there.  She did not get discouraged, though there was not
+much to interest or to instruct in the sermons she often heard.
+
+There was little hope of a happy summer to them, as the days went on.
+The heat which last year seemed to bring healing to Mrs Vane, brought
+this year weakness and nervous prostration painful to see.  And
+something even worse than these came with them, to make the days and
+nights terrible to her--the fear of death,--death, which she knew to be
+drawing near.  It had come to her in former illnesses, but never as it
+came now.
+
+Mr Jerome.  St. Cyr never spoke many words to her in private, but they
+had been strong words that she could not forget, about her godless
+marriage and her godless life, which had brought on her, he said, the
+double curse of ill-health and neglect, and which must end in still
+deeper misery.  She could not forget them, and they woke terrible fears
+for the future.  She told her fears to her children, hoping that they
+might chase them away as they had chased so many troubles of hers in
+past years, with playful or loving words, but they knew not what to say,
+for they too were afraid.
+
+"God is good, and Christ died for us," repeated Selina many times.
+"Surely that is enough, mama."
+
+They read the Testament daily to her still, and Frederica searched it
+carefully for her sake, bringing to her such sweet words as these:
+
+"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
+you rest.
+
+"For the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.
+
+"God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that
+whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
+
+"Death is swallowed up in victory.  O death! where is thy sting?  O
+grave! where is thy victory?  The sting of Death is sin, and the
+strength of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God, who giveth us the
+victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ."
+
+The clergyman of the church they attended came to see her, and read
+prayers solemnly and tenderly, and answered the appeal of her anxious
+eyes with vague words about God's goodness and compassion, and how He
+would save all who came to Him.  But his words did not comfort her.
+
+"How can I come to Him?  I do not know the way."
+
+"Mama, Jesus is the way--He says it," said Selina, who never seemed to
+forget the words she heard.
+
+"But I do not know Him; I have not thought about Him all my life; I have
+done nothing good, and it is too late now."
+
+"But the thief on the cross had done nothing good, even to the very
+last, and yet Jesus says to him, `To-day shalt thou be with me in
+paradise,'" said Selina.
+
+"Yes; let me read it for you," said Frederica eagerly.
+
+"But he could do nothing, and Mr Jerome says I could give money to
+clothe the naked and feed the hungry, and that I could give my children
+to the Church, and then I should be safe.  But I never trusted Mr
+Jerome; I am afraid of him; and yet he may be right."
+
+"Miss Agnace says something like that too," said Tessie, "and I think we
+ought to ask Mr St. Cyr to give some money, if it would set mama's mind
+at rest."
+
+"But it does not say that is the way in the Bible," said Frederica
+gravely.
+
+"Yes, it says something like that.  Some one was told to sell all his
+goods to give to the poor.  Don't you remember?"
+
+"But it says, `Thanks be to God, who _giveth_ us the victory!'" said
+Selina.  "And there must be some people so poor that they have nothing
+to give Him back."
+
+"Yes, and in another place He says, `I _give_ unto my sheep eternal
+life,'" said Frederica.  "It cannot be that one can buy it."
+
+"And in another place it says, `He that believeth shall be saved,'" said
+Selina.
+
+The mother's eyes turned eagerly from one to another.  They knew little,
+but they knew far more than she did about that which she was so anxious
+to learn.
+
+"Miss Agnace always says I must send for a priest, and confess to him,
+but my father hated all that, and your father would be very angry."
+
+"But mama, if it would make you happy, he need not be told," said
+Tessie; "and we might send for some one else than Mr St. Cyr's
+brother."
+
+"But that would be giving up what the Bible says; for it does not tell
+us to confess to priests, or that they can pardon us," said Frederica.
+
+"It says something, I think," said Selina, "`Whosesoever sins ye remit,
+they shall be remitted.'  Oh, if we only had some one to tell us what we
+ought to do?"
+
+And was there no one among a whole cityful to tell these children and
+their mother how they might be saved?  Doubtless there were many who
+would gladly have pointed them to Jesus as the only hope of the sinner,
+if they had made known their need to such.  But it was quite true of
+those with whom they came in contact, the way was not clear to them.
+
+"I spoke to Caroline about it," said Frederica, "and she said we must be
+good, and say our prayers, and go to church, and do our duty always.
+But there must be some other way; for mama can do nothing now.  She
+cannot even give money, unless Mr St. Cyr is willing; and it would do
+no good, if she could."
+
+"Miss Agnace says that she knows a sister who Is very good and wise, and
+who would gladly teach us.  Mama, shall we send for Sister Magdalen?"
+asked Selina.
+
+But Mrs Vane was less able to say what should or what should not be
+done, than the youngest child among them.  No one sent for Sister
+Magdalen, unless Miss Agnace did, which was very likely; for she seemed
+always to know what they wished for, whether they told her or not; but
+she came.  A very different woman she was from Miss Agnace.  A thin,
+dark, thoughtful woman, with a face which was calm now, but which
+suggested thoughts of troubles passed through, and struggles encountered
+in past days.
+
+She came to see Miss Agnace at first, or she said so; but she had some
+beautiful specimens of needlework which she wished the young ladies to
+see, and while they were admiring it she was speaking gentle and
+sympathising words to their mother.
+
+She came a good many times after that, and by-and-by she had much to say
+to them all about the peace and rest that were to be found in the bosom
+of the true Church, and of the safety and happiness that were to be
+purchased by the performance of such good works as the Church commanded.
+She told them how, by penance, and prayer, and the confession of sin,
+pardon might be obtained, and how, through the intercession of Mary and
+the saints, they might hope to get safe to heaven.
+
+She was a wiser woman than Miss Agnace, and knew how to put all these
+things in the fairest light, so as not to startle them.  But she was as
+grieved and indignant as Miss Agnace had been at the pride and self-will
+of children who ventured to read, and who strove to understand, the
+Bible for themselves.  It was just Miss Agnace's teaching over again,
+except that all was more clearly and firmly announced, and more
+decidedly pressed home, by Sister Magdalen.
+
+If Mrs Vane had been left a little while to her instructions and
+influence, she might have led her where she would, and induced her, in
+the hope of finding peace, to give herself altogether into the guidance
+of those who believe that they have the keys of heaven in their keeping.
+But her children never left her side when Sister Magdalen was there,
+and there was no assent in Frederica's anxious watchful eyes, and Selina
+was always ready with some word from the Book, which even Sister
+Magdalen could not but acknowledge was the very word of God.  Nor did it
+avail for her to say that God had other words than were written there,
+and other ways of teaching those who wished to know His will.  If
+Frederica had learned little else from the Scriptural lessons of Mrs
+Glencairn and Miss Pardie, she had learned this, that the Bible is the
+only source of our knowledge of God as the Saviour of sinners, and to
+distrust all other teaching.
+
+"What you say may be true, I cannot tell, but it is not here in the
+Gospels.  And surely there is all here that is necessary, if we could
+only understand," said Frederica gently.  And Selina added,--
+
+"_I_ know we are very ignorant; but I do not think it is wrong in us to
+read and to try to understand God's Word for ourselves, and I believe
+God will teach us, and mama too.  We will not fear."
+
+In the meantime Mr Jerome had still been making frequent visits to Mrs
+Vane's house, where he made himself very agreeable to the children.
+Selina's music progressed rapidly, and she had increasing pleasure in
+it.  The boys and even Tessie welcomed him with the indiscriminating
+liking which children bestow on those who take pains to please and win
+them.  Frederica said to herself, that this liking and Selina's progress
+ought to be sufficient reason for her liking him too.  And it might have
+been so if the priest had been content to treat her as a child.
+
+But she was not a child, and he touched with her on graver matters than
+a child could comprehend.  He was aware of her reading the Bible with
+her mother and the rest, and of her anxious questionings of Sister
+Agnace, and her wish to be religious and do right, and he was more than
+willing to give counsel and direction with regard to these matters.  But
+on these things Frederica would never enter with him.  At first she
+could give no better reason for this, than that "he had not a nice
+face," which she acknowledged was a very foolish reason.  But afterwards
+she had a reason which was all-powerful with her: he made her mother
+unhappy.  He spoke softly and soothingly to her, as far as words and
+manners went: but he never came but he said some words that left her
+anxious and troubled either for herself or her children.  He intimated
+his belief that she had forsaken the true Church--the Church of her
+fathers--when she married Mr Vane, and that all her ill-health and
+unhappiness had come upon her as a punishment for this wrong step.  He
+never said all this to her in words at one time; but he uttered a word
+now and then, breathed a sigh, spoke a soft regret, or as soft a
+warning, that left the poor soul never quite at ease.  He never spoke
+thus to her in the presence of her children.  Without them there is
+little doubt that he could easily have bent the poor broken-spirited
+woman to his will--brought her to repentance and a better mind, he would
+have called it.  But Selina's gentleness, and Frederica's sense of her
+mother's helplessness and dependence, were a strong defence to their
+mother.  At this time Frederica saw that she was unhappy a good while
+before she knew that the priest had anything to do with it.  When she
+did know it, she resented it angrily, and told him with more than
+sufficient warmth, that it was neither kind nor wise of him to come with
+his hard words and harder judgments, to unsettle and perplex the mind of
+one so tender and delicate.
+
+"Perhaps you mean it kindly, but it is not real kindness to make poor
+mama unhappy and afraid.  You have your religion, and we have ours.  We
+will not interfere with each other," said Frederica, with trembling
+dignity.
+
+"Have you then any religion?" asked the priest.  "Because it has been
+intimated to me that you are in search of one, and know not where it is
+to be found.  Is your mother then happier than you?"
+
+Frederica looked at him in amazement and anger, yet other feelings also
+were in her heart.
+
+"Mama is good," said she.  "One does not need to be very wise, or to
+have fine words to offer, in order to be a Christian."
+
+"And you? are you a Christian, dear?"
+
+"I am not good," said Frederica humbly; "but I wish to be, and God will
+teach me, and mama also."
+
+"And how long will it take you to learn? a year? two years?  And the
+chances are your mother will not live many months.  Will it be well with
+her, do you think, when she shall go away into another world alone?"
+
+Frederica turned upon him a white face and wide-open eyes of horror.
+
+"Yes," said Selina's soft voice behind them, "it will be well.  God is
+good, and Christ has died."
+
+Frederica uttered a glad cry, and clasped her sister in her arms.
+
+"Yes," said the priest, "God is good, and Christ has died.  This is our
+only hope.  But then all these years have you been thinking of this?
+You have been forgetting God, and even now you are trusting to your own
+wisdom to find Him.  You are refusing counsel.  You are walking in your
+own ways.  Oh! poor ignorant erring children, it is because I love you
+so much, you and your mother, that I dare to make you unhappy by telling
+you the truth.  I would gladly lead you in the right way."
+
+"Is mama so very ill?" said Frederica, forgetting everything else, in
+the misery that his words had suggested.
+
+"Do you not see yourselves that she is very ill?  Dear children, death
+is a happy change to those who have the care and blessing of the Church.
+Death is nothing of which a Christian need be afraid."
+
+He spoke gently and tenderly, and laid his hand softly on the blind
+girl's head; but his eyes were hard and angry, and Frederica shrank from
+him with a repugnance which she did not try to conceal.
+
+"I would so gladly help you," said he again.  "It is your happiness I
+seek, and the happiness of your dear mistaken mother."  And in a little
+he added, "God bless you with humble minds."  And then went silently
+away.
+
+And he left two very unhappy girls behind him.  Could it be that their
+mother was going to die; and that she had cause to be afraid?
+
+"I never wish to see him again," said Frederica.  "He shall never see
+mama again, if I can prevent it."
+
+But her anger went away with the departure of the priest, and now she
+was very miserable.
+
+"But, Fred, if it is true that we are all wrong, and that mama is going
+to die before--"
+
+Selina shuddered.
+
+"Selina!  God is good, and Christ has died; you said it yourself."
+
+"Yes, God is good.  He will teach us."
+
+"And He will take care of mama and all of us.  And if mama does not go
+to heaven, I am sure I do not care to go there either," said Frederica,
+with a great bout of weeping.
+
+"God is good, and Christ has died," repeated Selina softly.  "He will
+teach us."
+
+"But I never wish to see Mr Jerome St. Cyr again," said Frederica.
+
+But he came again, just as usual, in a day or two.  Mr St. Cyr was
+there with the mother and the children when he came in, and the brothers
+exchanged looks of surprise at the encounter, for they had never met in
+Mrs Vane's house before.  Mr St. Cyr looked on with a little amused
+curiosity to see how his brother would be received.
+
+Very cordially by the young people it seemed, but he noticed a troubled
+look pass over the face of their mother; and Frederica rose and went
+over to her sofa, and took her seat beside her, with an air that seemed
+to say she needed protection, and she was there to give it.  Mr Jerome
+took no notice of the movement, but occupied himself with Selina and her
+music, and with the little boys, who soon came in.
+
+Mr St. Cyr asked Frederica about her illness, and her employments and
+amusements, and she told him about Miss Agnace, and how much nicer she
+was than Mrs Ascot used to be.
+
+"And we all hope she will stay," said Tessie.  "But they don't usually
+let the sisters stay long out of their convents.  Do you think they will
+let her stay?" asked Tessie, addressing Mr Jerome.  "Fred did not know
+she was a sister at first, but she found it out from something she said.
+She is very nice, however, and we all hope she may stay."
+
+Mr St. Cyr asked no questions about Miss Agnace; but when his brother
+rose to go, he rose also.  He had something to say to him.
+
+"Who is Sister Agnace? and why is she here?" asked he.  "It is not wise
+in you to wish to make any change in Mrs Vane's family affairs, my
+brother.  You will not succeed."
+
+"I have succeeded already.  Miss Agnace has made a great change for the
+better in this ill-regulated household, especially in the comfort of
+Mrs Vane.  Your little friend is a clever child, but she cannot be
+expected to act with sense or judgment in certain affairs.  She has not
+been complaining of Miss Agnace has she?"
+
+"By no means.  On the contrary, they seem to value her highly.  But who
+is she?  Why is she here?"
+
+"Do you not know!  Mr Vane advertised for a housekeeper, and she
+applied.  She has excellent references, and he was fortunate in getting
+her."
+
+"Still you have not answered my question.  The sisters are not permitted
+to answer advertisements, and take situations, without some special
+purpose in view.  What was your motive in placing her among these
+children?"
+
+"A desire to serve them would not seem to you a sufficient motive, I
+suppose?"
+
+"No," said Mr St. Cyr, with a shrug, "not in your case.  You may wish
+to serve them, but you have another motive.  Who is Sister Agnace?"
+
+"A simple, pious, affectionate creature, just the nurse for a nervous
+invalid like Mrs Vane.  See her, and satisfy yourself with regard to
+her."
+
+"I shall do so," said Mr St. Cyr; "and, my brother, let me say one word
+to you.  Nothing good will come of your trying to gain influence in this
+house.  Mrs Vane has nothing in her power as to the disposal of her
+father's wealth.  All that is quite beyond her power."
+
+"Don't you remember you told me all that long ago?  Is it not
+conceivable that for other reasons I might wish to influence that
+unhappy woman, who is so near death, and who is so unprepared to meet
+it?  What is her wealth to me, who am not permitted to possess aught
+beyond the necessaries of life?  Why should I wish to influence her,
+except to turn her thoughts to the God whom she must soon meet, and of
+whom she knows nothing?  And these poor neglected children!  Brother
+Cyprien, it is terrible to me to see you so indifferent to their highest
+interests, and your own."
+
+"Let all that pass.  What I wish to say is this--No influence that you
+may bring to bear on her can possibly make any change in the arrangement
+of her affairs.  The guardians of her children's interests are already
+chosen by my advice, and with her husband's consent, and they are such
+men as will not please you.  She might change them, it is true, but she
+will not without my advice.  You have already made her unhappy, I think.
+It is cruel, and will avail you nothing.  This is what I wish you to
+understand."
+
+"I clearly understand.  You will not see that it is only their good I
+wish for.  They have no religion.  They are ignorant of the first
+principles of truth.  These young girls are neither fit for this world
+nor the next.  And St. Hubert's grandsons are losing the best years of
+their life, under the foolish teaching of an ignorant woman."
+
+"That is your opinion," said Mr St. Cyr coldly.  "Well, you are not
+responsible, and need not interfere.  No good can come of it to any one
+concerned."
+
+But he had no fault to find with Miss Agnace when he saw her.  She was
+simple and affectionate, and as far as he could judge, faithful.  She
+was eager for the spiritual good of Mrs Vane and her children, and
+prayed for them, and told them tales of the saints, and of miracles
+performed by their relics even at the present day.  She took the
+children with her to mass, on high days and holidays, and evidently had
+full faith in the success of her efforts in their behalf at last.  But
+of all this Mr St. Cyr had no fear.  Indeed, he might have rejoiced
+over the prospect of the spiritual change, for which Sister Agnace and
+his brother were so anxious, in poor Mrs Vane and her children,
+provided it were a real change, and that no wrong influence were brought
+to bear upon them to bring it about.
+
+But though Mr St. Cyr was looked upon as a very religious man, he was
+far more liberal in his opinions, and charitable in his judgments, than
+the greater number of those who admired his devotion.  It did not seem
+impossible to him that beyond the pale of his own church there might be
+truth and safety.  He knew that Mr Vane was not a religious man.  He
+gave him no credit for religious motives, or even for conscientious
+motives, in the care with which, in the education of his daughters, he
+had tried to keep them away from Roman Catholic influence; and it would
+have troubled him very little on his account that they should leave
+their father's church.  He would not have pitied him, but he would have
+dreaded the pain to them, the discomfort which their father's anger
+would bring upon them.
+
+But he was not anxious for them to change.  They were good little
+things, he thought, desirous to do right, and quite as likely to do
+right by themselves as they would be under such guidance as a change
+might involve,--such guidance, for instance, as that of his brother
+Jerome.  He did not wish to be hard on his brother, even in his
+thoughts, but he did not trust him.  He did not trust him, either as
+regarded the means he might use to influence the delicate nervous mother
+and her children towards a change of faith, or as regarded the end he
+had in view in desiring such a change.
+
+He cared for their souls, doubtless, and believed them to be in danger,
+but he cared for something else more.  He knew that he coveted some part
+of the wealth that Mr St. Hubert had left, and which had been
+accumulating since his death, for his own purposes; that is, for the
+purposes of the Church; and he feared that he would not be scrupulous as
+to the means he made use of to obtain it.
+
+So he went oftener to see them than he had been accustomed to do, and
+assured himself of the good faith of Miss Agnace, and listened to the
+earnest talk of the sisters, and sometimes even to the reading of the
+Bible.  He was amused sometimes, but oftener he was moved and
+interested, and in his heart prayed to Him whom he believed to be the
+God of all who sincerely sought to serve and honour Him, that He might
+guard, and guide, and keep safe from all evil, these children whom he
+was learning to love so well.
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+September was not a pleasant month this year.  There were not the usual
+clear, bright days, all the lovelier and more enjoyable that the frost
+in the morning air, and a tinge of brilliant colour here and there among
+the trees, gave warning that there could not be many more of them in the
+season.  They were hot, oppressive days.  The air was close, and the sky
+was hidden by a thick haze, which told of the coming of a storm.
+
+It was no wonder, the children said, that their mother was worse than
+usual.  Every one felt dull, and languid, and out of sorts.  They would
+all feel better when the rain which had been gathering so many days
+should come, and it could not be long now.  This was what Frederica said
+to her sister, Mrs Brandon, when she came to see them after her return
+from the seaside, where she had passed the summer.  Mrs Brandon
+assented, and regretted for baby's sake that she had returned home so
+soon.  She regretted it for another reason.  She did not know how to
+tell the business that had brought her to them that day.  Their father
+had decided not to return home till spring, and had written to her to
+say that there would be an opportunity for Fred to travel with a Mrs
+Bury, who was about to return to England, and he wished her to hasten
+her preparations.  Mrs Brandon was to tell Mrs Vane of the change of
+plan, and to help Fred in all necessary arrangements.
+
+She did not like the task he had assigned her, and she liked it less
+when she saw the mother and her daughters together.  She could not but
+feel that her father was exposing himself to remark--nay, to just
+censure--by remaining away so long in the circumstances of his family;
+and she felt the greatest unwillingness to say a word to Fred about
+leaving home.  But Fred did not even take the matter into consideration.
+She dismissed the subject with a single word.
+
+"I'm not going," said she quietly.  But an angry spot burned on her
+cheek.  She would not say to Mrs Brandon, or even to Selina, that she
+thought it unkind of their father to ask such a thing--more than unkind
+to remain longer away.  She checked the hasty words of blame that rose
+to.  Tessie's lips in Caroline's presence.  But she was grieved and
+vexed too.
+
+"I am not going," said she, "and nobody must tell mama that papa, wished
+it.  He ought to know that--"
+
+She stopped suddenly, not sure of her voice.
+
+"She has been ill so long," said Mrs Brandon.  "I suppose papa thinks
+she is as she always has been, now a little better, now worse.  He
+thinks you are over-anxious, and I am afraid he does not understand.
+What does Dr Gerard say?"
+
+"If you were to tell him, Caroline, he might understand," said Selina.
+"Will you not write and tell him how we all want him home?"
+
+"I will write certainly, and I will also see Mrs Bury.  It would make
+you too unhappy to leave now, though I trust your mother is not really
+worse."
+
+"Thank you.  No, I could not go now.  Even Mr St. Cyr is ill, and they
+have no one but me--" said Fred, speaking with difficulty.
+
+"My darling," said Mrs Brandon, moved to unwonted tenderness by the
+sight of Frederica's tears, "you are not to be discouraged.  Remember
+how often your mother has been worse than she is now; and papa will be
+sure to come when I write and tell him how much you all want him.  And,
+dear, if you break down, what will become of the rest?"
+
+"I am not going to break down," said Fred, swallowing her tears, and
+trying to smile.  "Be sure and bring baby next time, and hasten now, for
+the rain is near.  Good-bye?"
+
+She went to the gate, and stood looking after the carriage for a minute
+or two.  Then, instead of going into the house, she walked round the
+garden several times, telling herself that there was no one but her to
+care for the rest, and that she must be strong and not discouraged for
+their sake.  But for the moment she was utterly discouraged and afraid.
+
+Though it was still early in the afternoon, it had grown very dark, and
+there was first the silence, and then the low sighing of the wind among
+the trees, that tells of the near approach of a storm; and the sudden
+recollection that her little brothers had not returned from their walk
+hastened Frederica's footsteps again to the gate.  A few large drops of
+rain fell before she reached it, and as she looked out a cloud of dust
+and leaves came whirling down the street, and a strong gust of wind made
+it necessary for her to cling for a moment to the gate, lest she should
+be thrown down.
+
+There was nothing to be seen of her brothers; but, fighting against the
+wind, and shielding his eyes from the clouds of dust which it bore, came
+a slender bowed figure that made her forget them.  For just a moment she
+thought it was Mr St. Cyr, but even before he came near, she saw it was
+not he, but an older man.  His hair was snowy white, and he walked with
+a great effort, bowing his head low to meet the blast.  Opposite the
+gate, a sudden gust nearly overthrew him.  He let fall a book which he
+carried in his hand, and in stooping to recover it his cane slipped from
+his grasp.  Frederica sprang forward to lift it for him; and when she
+met the sweet, grave smile that thanked her, she quite forgot that the
+face was the face of a stranger.
+
+"Come in," said she eagerly.  "You are not strong enough to meet this
+terrible wind.  And see, the rain has begun to fall already.  Come in
+and rest."
+
+"I shall be glad to rest," said the stranger; and so, at Frederica's
+bidding, there passed over their threshold an angel unawares.
+
+The brothers came home with a run and a shout, only in time to escape
+the rain that soon fell in torrents.  In the house it grew as dark as
+night for a little while, and then the lightning flashed, and the
+thunder broke over the roof with a peal that seemed to shake the
+foundations.  The servants of the house, awed and anxious, flocked into
+the hall where the stranger sat, and where the children had gathered.
+Their mother was there too, trembling and white with nervous terror.
+For a minute or two the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled
+continuously, and for a time not a word was spoken.  Then that cloud
+passed, and it grew light.
+
+"You are not afraid," said Hubert, looking up into the face of the
+stranger.
+
+"No," said he gently, "I have no cause."
+
+"But we are afraid, except Selina," said the boy, looking round on the
+terrified faces.  "Selina does not see the lightning.  But why are not
+you afraid?"
+
+"`God is our Refuge and Strength, a very present Help in trouble.
+Therefore shall not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the
+mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.'  No, I am not afraid."
+
+"But the lightning might kill you."
+
+"Yes, it might kill me."
+
+"And yet you are not afraid!  Why are you not afraid?"
+
+"Because I hope--yes, I believe, that when death shall come to me, it
+will be as God's messenger, not to hurt, but to take me beyond all reach
+of hurt for ever and for ever.  Truly, my little lad, death is the last
+thing of which one whom God loves need be afraid."
+
+Another cloud was passing, and Hubert's face was hidden in his sister's
+lap as once more the thunder broke over them.  But the worst of the
+storm was over.  There were now longer pauses between the gradually
+receding peals, and in the silence of one of them Selina asked softly,--
+
+"Frederica, who is he that is not afraid of death?"
+
+And Frederica answered in the same tone, "One whom God loves, he says."
+
+"And surely He loves us all."
+
+Gradually the storm passed over.  The servants went away to their
+duties, and Miss Agnace took the little boys to change their coats,
+which she only now discovered were quite wet.  The girls helped their
+mother into her room again, and Tessie opened the window.  There were
+clouds heavy and dark still in the sky, but beyond the clouds there was
+brightness, and the cool sweet air brought refreshment to them all.  The
+stranger stood on the threshold, regarding with grave, compassionate
+eyes the group which the mother and daughters made.
+
+"Mama," said Frederica, answering her mother's look of surprise, "I
+brought him in because of the rain."
+
+"Who is it?" said Selina eagerly.  "Is it he whom God loves, and who has
+no cause to be afraid of death?  Frederica, ask him why he is not
+afraid.  And does not God love us all?"
+
+"God is our Father.  Truly He loves all His children."
+
+Drawn by his voice, Selina approached, and took in both hers his
+outstretched hand.  Not once in a hundred times did the blind girl seek
+to get by the sense of touch a knowledge of strangers.  But now she
+gently passed her hand over his, and over his face, and his soft white
+hair; and then she drew him gently into the room, and over towards her
+mother's chair.
+
+"Come and tell mama why you are not afraid."
+
+"Because `God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son,
+that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting
+life.'  No one need fear death, who has the promise of life
+everlasting."
+
+"No," said Selina.  "And have you that promise?  And is it for us too?
+for mama, and all of us?"
+
+For answer, the old man repeated the text again, "God so loved the
+world," and so on to the end.
+
+"It is the world He loves; and the promise is to whosoever believeth."
+
+"Do you hear, mama?  It says, `Whosoever believeth.'  Are you listening,
+mama?" said Selina eagerly.
+
+"My darling, I know not what to believe, or what to do," said Mrs Vane
+sadly.  "I have never in all my life thought about these things."
+
+"No," said Selina, turning her eager face towards the stranger.  "We
+have never thought about these things.  Could we begin now, do you
+think? and what must we do?"
+
+Frederica and Tessie looked and listened in amazement.  It was so unlike
+Selina to have anything to say to a stranger.  Their mother looked as
+eager as she did, and very anxious; and she said, before the stranger
+could reply,--
+
+"Yes, the children might begin now.  As for me, I can do nothing."
+
+"But," said the old man gently, "it does not say _do_, but believe."
+
+"Surely, mama, `Whosoever believeth.'  And what are we to believe?"
+
+"The text says, `Whosoever believeth in Him'."
+
+"Yes--that is Jesus.  And what are we to believe?"
+
+"All that the Bible says of Him.  Have you heard about Him at all, my
+child?"
+
+"Yes.  In the New Testament.  We believe all that.  What is the first,
+Fred?  Oh!  I remember: `Thou shalt call His name Jesus; for He shall
+save His people from their sins.'"
+
+And Frederica added, "`And they shall call His name Emmanuel, which is,
+being interpreted, God with us.'"
+
+"We are to believe that He saves His people from their sins," said
+Selina.  "Does that mean us too?  Who are God's people?"
+
+"They who seek to know Him.  They who love Him, and do His will.  They
+whom He loves and will save."
+
+There was a pause of some minutes; then Selina said,--
+
+"We seek to know Him, and--I love Him.  I do not know how to do His
+will."
+
+"His will is written in His Word, and He Himself will teach you," said
+the stranger.
+
+Then Tessie broke in flippantly,--
+
+"But how are we to know?  Some say one thing, and some another.  Father
+Jerome says it is the last thing we should do--to read the Bible for
+ourselves.  And how are we to know?"
+
+"But we do read it," said Frederica.  "And there is no use in asking
+what Mr Jerome St. Cyr would wish us to do."
+
+"But for my part, I think he is quite as likely to be right as those
+others," said Tessie.  "There are many more who are of his opinion than
+of ours.  And it would be a shocking thing to say that all the crowds of
+people who go to his church are all wrong."
+
+"Hush, Tessie dear, and listen," said Selina.  "Mama dear, are you very
+tired?  Would you like to hear more?"
+
+If Selina could have seen her mother's face, she would not have asked.
+
+"Tell us more!" said she.
+
+"Begin at the beginning," said Fred, and she read, "Now the birth of
+Jesus Christ was on this wise."
+
+But the beginning was before that, he showed them.  The beginning was
+when, because of sin, man's need began--when the first promise was
+given, and God said "that the woman's seed should bruise the head of the
+serpent."  He showed them how, the Divine law being broken, Divine
+justice required satisfaction, and how One had said, "Lo!  I come to do
+Thy will, O God!"  He went on from promise to promise, from prophecy to
+prophecy, showing how all that went before was but a preparation for the
+coming of Him who was promised, who was "to save His people from their
+sins."
+
+Much that had been mysterious, even meaningless, in the things which
+they had read--the sacrifices, the ceremonies, the prophecies--became
+significant and beautiful as types of Him who was both sacrifice and
+priest, dying that His people might live.  The old man did not use many
+words, and almost all of them were words with which the reading of the
+Bible had made them familiar, but they came to them with new meaning and
+power from his lips.
+
+He told them how the ages had been waiting for Him who was called
+"Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the
+Prince of Peace;" and how, "when the fulness of the time was come, God
+sent forth His Son;" how "He bare our griefs, and carried our sorrows;
+He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities;
+the chastisement of our peace was on Him, and by His stripes we are
+healed."
+
+He spoke to them of Him as the son of Mary, as the babe in Bethlehem,
+and yet the Leader and Commander of His people.  He reminded them how He
+lived and suffered; how He spake wonderful words, and did wonderful
+works; how He pitied, and taught, and healed the people; how He loved
+them, and how He died for them at last.
+
+At last?  No, that was not the last.  He told them how the grave, that
+had held in bonds all the generations that had passed away, had no power
+to hold Him; how He had broken the chains of death, nay, had slain
+death, and how He had ascended up to heaven, to be still the Priest of
+His people, and their King.  He told them that it was His delight to
+pardon and receive sinners who came to Him; that He would not only
+pardon and save from the punishment of sin, but take away the power of
+sin over the heart; so that instead of loving it, and yielding to it,
+sin would become hateful to the forgiven child of God, because God hated
+it.  He told them how God kept His people safe in the midst of a world
+at enmity with Him, and how all things were theirs, because they were
+Christ's; and how nothing, "neither life, nor death, nor things present,
+nor things to come, can separate them from the love of God which is in
+Christ Jesus our Lord."
+
+He told them that He was preparing a place for those who had loved Him,
+and that Death--no longer an enemy--was to come as His messenger to take
+them into His presence, there to dwell for evermore.  And most
+wonderful, all this was God's free gift.  None were too sinful, or weak,
+or wayward, to be saved by Him, who asked only to be trusted and loved
+by those to whom He freely offered so much.  Wonderful indeed, beyond
+the power of words to utter.
+
+"Mama," said Selina, touching her mother's hand, "I think I see it now."
+
+The mother turned her eyes from the radiant face of the blind girl to
+the face of the stranger again.
+
+"Will you trust Him?" asked he gently.  "He is able and willing to
+save."
+
+"May I?" said she eagerly; "I, who can do nothing?  I, who have never in
+all my life thought about these things?  Ah! if it were possible!"
+
+"Believe it.  It is true."
+
+"But is there nothing we must do?" said Frederica doubtfully.
+
+"There is nothing you need do to win His love.  There is much you can do
+to prove your love to Him.  `If ye love me, keep my commandments,' He
+said.  And `we love Him because He first loved us.'"
+
+"And is there no good in all that Miss Agnace has told us?" said Tessie.
+"Indeed, Fred, it is not that I wish to be disagreeable.  But Miss
+Agnace prays to the Virgin and to the saints, and she goes to
+confession.  She says that is the only right way, and you know Miss
+Agnace is a good woman.  And Mr Jerome--"
+
+Mrs Vane's eyes and Frederica's were turned on the stranger; and Miss
+Agnace, who had been listening unseen, came forward at the sound of her
+name.  The old man looked gravely from one to the other, and said,--
+
+"`He that believeth on the Son hath life.'  Of Him it is said, `Neither
+is there salvation in any other: for there is no other name given under
+heaven among men, whereby we can be saved.'  Of Him it is said, that He
+`hath redeemed us not with corruptible things, as silver and gold, but
+with His precious blood.  Who His own self bore our sins in His own body
+on the tree.'  Of Him it is said, `In Whom we have redemption through
+His blood, the forgiveness of sins.'  Truly He is able to save to the
+uttermost them that come unto Him by faith.  They who put their trust in
+Him need no other saviour.  `Other foundation can no man lay, than is
+laid down, which is Jesus Christ.'
+
+"This is God's truth, taught us in His Word.  I do not desire to judge
+those of whom you speak.  It is through Christ, once offered for sins,
+that they too can be saved."
+
+Mrs Vane made a movement to enjoin silence when Miss Agnace would have
+spoken; and then the stranger, kneeling down, said, "Let us pray;" and
+Mrs Vane and Selina for the first time heard the pouring out of a good
+man's heart to God.  What he asked for them need hardly be told: that
+Christ might reveal Himself to them as one mighty to save; that He might
+dwell in them by His Spirit, to make them holy and happy, and ready for
+an entrance into "the inheritance which is incorruptible, and undefiled,
+and which fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for those who love Him;"
+that even _now_, believing in Him, they might have "joy unspeakable and
+full of glory."
+
+Every heart went up with his as he prayed.  Even Miss Agnace listened
+and joined in supplication, wondering and moved.
+
+"And shall we never see you again?" said Frederica, as he took her
+mother's hand to say farewell.
+
+"I cannot tell.  I am only passing through the town, and but for the
+storm I should have been already on the way.  I shall never forget you."
+
+"I think God sent you to us," said Selina.
+
+Once more the blind girl touched softly his hand, and his face, and his
+silver hair.  Praying, "God bless all beneath this roof," he went away.
+
+But they never forgot him, nor the words he had spoken to them.
+
+For Selina after that there was neither doubt nor fear.  The way which
+God has opened for the return of sinners to Himself was clearly revealed
+to her.  She had much to learn yet, with regard to His will and His
+dealings in providence; but this she knew and declared, "I love Him
+because He first loved me."
+
+There were for her no anxious questionings, no groping in the dark,
+after that.  Day by day the light grew clearer and brighter to the eyes
+of her soul, and she saw "wondrous things out of His law."  She was at
+peace, and with all the power of her loving and gentle nature she set
+herself to help her mother toward the same peace.  There was the daily
+reading still, and daily also, kneeling by her mother's bed, Selina
+asked for the blessing of peace to her mother's heart.  And she did not
+ask in vain.  As the days went on the blessing came--God gave His own
+answer of peace.
+
+Peace with God!  That which all those weary years of sickness and
+solitude this poor soul had needed came to her at last, and all was
+changed.  Her waiting for the end, that was slowly, but surely drawing
+near, was peaceful, at times it was joyful.  Even Miss Agnace saw the
+change, and thanked God for it.  Sister Magdalen saw it, and doubted its
+reality and its sufficiency.  But she was suffered to utter no word of
+doubt in Mrs Vane's hearing.  Indeed, she hardly wished to do so.
+
+"God may have ways of dealing with sinners of which we do not know,"
+said she, in answer to Miss Agnace's anxious looks, not knowing what to
+say.
+
+"Yes, truly," said Miss Agnace to herself, with a sigh of relief and
+comfort.
+
+It had come to her many times of late, that the dying mother's peace
+must be from God, even though it had not come to her through the Church
+or its ministers; but she had hardly dared to believe it possible.  She
+needed Sister Magdalen's confirming word, and took more comfort from it
+than Sister Magdalen had meant it to convey.
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+Frederica was the least happy of them all at this time.  They had heard
+nothing as yet about Mr Vane's return; and, as must be the case in
+every household at every changing season, there were many things to be
+arranged, and some of them required a decision which Frederica was
+neither old enough nor wise enough to exercise; and she was troubled in
+various ways.  She rejoiced in the new rest and peace that had come to
+her mother and Selina, and said to herself often, that all the rest
+mattered little, since it was well with them; but other things sometimes
+pressed on her heavily.
+
+Tessie had grown impatient under the restraint of circumstances, and
+also under the control which Frederica, not always with the best
+judgment, sought to exercise over her for her good.  She was wilful, and
+sought the companionship of young people whom her sister did not Know,
+or of whom she did not approve.  Madame Precoe, who as Mrs Ascot had
+been Tessie's pet aversion, invited her often; and she liked going there
+better than to the house of her sister, Mrs Brandon, who did not ask
+her very often.
+
+Her little brothers, too, were getting beyond her control.  The lady who
+had taught them daily for some years, being obliged, for family reasons,
+to leave them, her place was not found easy to supply, and it was
+decided that it was best to send them to school.  Not to a day-school;
+that would not have answered in the circumstances.  They were sent to a
+school which Mrs Brandon recommended, and which Frederica had heard her
+father mention with favour.  It was a small private school in the
+village of T., at some distance from M.  But the little lads went
+willingly enough, eager as children usually are for change, and for a
+time Frederica was quite at rest about them.
+
+All this time she could not avail herself of the doubtful help which the
+telling of her troubles to Mr St. Cyr would have given her; for he was
+ill.  She went to see him more than once, but they would not let her in,
+and Mr Jerome's grave looks and assurances that the sight of her old
+friend would be no pleasure to her now, filled Frederica with sorrow,
+and with a dread of what might happen to them all when Mr St. Cyr
+should be no more.
+
+But over the sea there were coming, even then, tidings that made all
+else seem of little moment to Frederica and them all.  One mail brought
+word that Mr Vane was coming home; but the next brought word that made
+it doubtful whether he ever would come home again.  At the first
+reading, the tidings of evil seemed scarcely to admit of hope.  Still
+they tried to speak hopefully in their mother's presence, and none more
+hopefully than Frederica.  But enclosed in the letter of her English
+brother, telling them of the accident and danger of her father, were a
+few lines to Frederica written by his own hand, that left little room
+for hope in her heart.
+
+"My darling," he wrote, "they will have no one but you.  I cannot recall
+the past.  You must stand by your mother, and make her understand that I
+would like Colonel Bentham to be appointed your guardian in my stead.
+He is an honourable and upright man, and he is about to return to Canada
+to remain; and I do not think Mr St. Cyr, who knows him well, will
+object.  Do not lose a day after you receive this.  If I live, it need
+make no difference.  I trust to you, Frederica, in all things.  Lose no
+time.  Oh, if I could only recall the past!"
+
+That was all.  Not even his name was written after it.
+
+"Oh! papa! papa!" sobbed the girl, as she lay alone in the darkness.
+"Shall I never see you any more?  And how shall I ever tell mama?"
+
+Mrs Vane was at first only told that an accident had happened to her
+husband, which would probably delay his return for a little while.  He
+had been thrown from his horse while riding.  They could only wait for
+another mail to hear more, and the first telling alarmed her less than
+they had feared it might do.
+
+One good thing came out of this sad event to Tessie.  Startled by
+Frederica's giving way so utterly at the news of their father's danger,
+and conscience-stricken at the knowledge that she had been disobeying
+his known wishes all these weeks she at once proposed to return to Mrs
+Glencairn's, and all agreed that there was no better thing for her to
+do.  So that anxiety was set at rest.
+
+To no one, not even to Mrs Brandon, did Frederica show her father's
+letter.  Moved by a fear which she could not put in words, she kept
+secret the commission he had given her, and at the first moment that it
+was possible for her to do so, took her way to Mr St. Cyr's house.  She
+had not seen him for a long time.  He was not well enough to see any
+one, she had always been told whenever she had called to enquire for
+him, and yet she had heard by chance of others who had been allowed to
+enter his room.  Miss Agnace had been there, and Sister Magdalen; and
+she had heard indirectly of his being able to transact business of
+importance, and she went determined to see him, if it were possible to
+do so.
+
+She entered the outer door with some one who was going into the office,
+and went upstairs unquestioned.  She opened one door, and then another,
+and there sat Mr St. Cyr, looking ill and changed certainly, but with
+his papers about him, not at all as though he were unequal to any work.
+He greeted her with a pleased exclamation, and then playfully reproached
+her with having forgotten him in his illness.
+
+"But I have been here often, Cousin Cyprien," said she, eagerly; "and
+they would not let me come up to you.  Did they not tell you?  Mr
+Jerome always said you were too ill to be disturbed.  Are you better,
+Cousin Cyprien?"
+
+"Yes, I am better.  And did they let you come up now?"
+
+"I did not ask.  I came up and opened the door.  I left Mr Jerome at
+our house."
+
+"Ah, my dear!  I fear your trouble is beyond my power to remove this
+time.  I have heard of your father.  Let us hope the accident to him was
+not so serious as was feared."
+
+"It is very serious, I am afraid.  But, Mr St. Cyr, you _can_ help me,
+and him;" and she offered him her father's letter.
+
+"Is it so bad?" said he, when he had read it, and he said nothing more
+for a long time.
+
+"I have not told mama yet," said Frederica.
+
+"Will you do as papa wishes, Cousin Cyprien?  Is it necessary?"
+
+"Since he wishes it, the change may be made.  It will be better."
+
+"But whoever may be appointed, you will always take care of mama and us
+all?"
+
+"While I live, dear child, yes; so help me God.  But I have had a
+warning, too; and I must leave you in good hands.  There is no time to
+lose."
+
+No time was lost.  The proper steps were at once taken, and the
+necessary papers prepared in the shortest time possible.  At some risk
+to himself, Mr St. Cyr went to Mrs Vane's house, and the whole affair
+was arranged to his satisfaction.  It was all done during a temporary
+absence of Mr Jerome from the city, and Mr St. Cyr did not see it
+necessary to intimate to him that any change had been made in regard to
+Mrs Vane's children.  But one night Mr Jerome found on the table,
+among other papers, one which he did not think it beneath him to glance
+at--a paper properly drawn, and signed, and witnessed, by which Mrs
+Vane and Mr St. Cyr had appointed three trustees, who were to have the
+oversight of the property left to Mr St. Hubert's grandchildren till
+they should come of age.  But it was torn across.  It was dated several
+years back; and seeing it, Mr Jerome said to himself, "There is another
+to be prepared."
+
+Strangely enough, it never occurred to him that this had been already
+done.  He did not speak to his brother about it; but he kept the matter
+in his thoughts, and watched the course of events.  It was a matter in
+which he took much interest; and when his brother grew worse, and day
+after day passed without anything being done or even said with regard to
+it, he was surprised; but he was not sorry at the delay.  He had by this
+time become convinced that no influence of his could move Mr. St. Cyr in
+the arrangement of the Vanes' affairs, and he wisely refrained from
+attempting it.  If trustees were not appointed for carrying out the will
+of Mr St. Hubert in the manner specified by himself, there must still
+be guardians appointed for the Vane children, should they be left
+orphans, and it must be done by a power possibly more open to such
+influence as his, and it would be far better to say no word to remind
+his brother, but, let things take their course.  He brooded over this in
+his silent way, till something like a plan for changing all the future
+relations of these children wrought itself out in his mind, and he
+prepared himself, and, as far as he could venture to do so, endeavoured
+to prepare others, to act on this plan when the right time should come.
+
+The next mail brought no good news from England.  Colonel Bentham wrote
+to Mrs Vane, telling her of her husband's wishes with regard to their
+children, and saying that, should she see fit to name him as one of
+their guardians, he would faithfully fulfil the duties of the trust.
+This letter, through means of Miss Agnace, Mr Jerome read, and it
+confirmed him in the opinion that nothing had been done to supply the
+place of the legal document which had been destroyed.
+
+Frederica also received a letter from her sister Cecilia, who had
+married Colonel Bentham's son.  It was a very kind letter, but over it
+Frederica shed many tears.  It told her how her father longed for them
+all; and the poor girl blamed herself that she had not obeyed his wish,
+and gone home with Mrs Bury, so that she might have been with him now.
+But for the sake of her mother and the rest, Frederica had done well to
+stay at home.
+
+For every day made it more plain to them all that Mrs Vane's death was
+near.  Sorrowful days they were; but joy mingled with their sorrow; for
+her peace flowed still and deep.
+
+She had never been a person of strong mind, and the training of her
+early days had not been of a kind to strengthen her mentally or morally.
+Out of the pain and weariness of these last years there had come no
+strength, but a great longing for rest, and a fear, vague but horrible,
+of death, and the unknown future beyond.
+
+And so the words of peace, spoken by the old man whom Frederica had
+brought in for shelter, had come as a message from God to her soul.  To
+the trembling hope of a Saviour which it awakened she clung, as a child
+in the dark clings to the unseen hand that holds it; and by-and-by, as
+the light of truth grew clearer to her eyes, she knew the hand she held
+was the hand of Jesus, strong and tender, with power to hold her safe
+for ever, and then she was at rest.
+
+From the very first the light had been clear to Selina, and she was
+never weary of telling the wondrous story of Christ's love and life and
+death to her mother.  Over and over daily, sometimes hourly, the same
+words were repeated with patient, nay, with joyful iteration, and Selina
+became God's messenger to her mother.  He spake to the dying woman
+through her child's voice; and peace, beyond all power of earthly things
+to trouble, rested on her.  In her state of weakness she was less
+capable than ever of continued thought on any subject; but she saw
+clearly, and held firmly to this, "He loved _me_, and gave Himself for
+_me_" and His promise was made good to her, "My peace I leave with you."
+
+What strange, still, dream-like days they were which followed till the
+end came!  Frederica, standing, in her care for them all, a little apart
+from her mother and sister, looked on with wonder.  Selina was doing for
+her mother all that she used to dream of doing.  She was comforting,
+sustaining, and showing her the way to heaven, which was drawing near.
+She did not grudge Selina this joy.  Far from that!  Seeing their
+mother's constant peace; seeing the sudden sweet gleams of something
+that was more than peace that shone sometimes in the beautiful wasted
+face, Frederica was ready to say that nothing else mattered much.  In
+the certainty of her mother's blessedness, she wished to forget--she did
+forget at times--all else that could trouble her.
+
+"If only papa could come home," she said a hundred times a day to
+herself.  To her mother she spoke hopefully and cheerfully of his
+return.  The tidings that came mail by mail varied.  Sometimes he was
+better, and sometimes worse, and the time seemed long to them all.
+
+"We shall meet again," said his wife often; and once she added, "and we
+shall not misunderstand or vex one another any more."  But whether she
+meant in this world or in heaven, her children did not know.
+
+So day after day they waited.  Miss Agnace, strong, and gentle, and
+patient, with watchful eyes and silent lips, went in and out among
+them--an angel of help and kindness.  To her, even more than to
+Frederica, the change that had come over the dying woman was wonderful.
+
+"She is no longer the same," said she, in one of her many confidences to
+Father Jerome.  "They were reading about `a new creature' the other day.
+That is what she has become.  `Old things have passed away, all things
+have become new.'  I do not understand it.  Is it well with her, think
+you, father?  If at the end you are with her, to lay hands on her and
+touch her with the oil of blessing, do you not think it may be well with
+her?  It is Jesus on whom she relies.  Is that enough, father?"
+
+"Let us wait until the end," said Father Jerome gravely, and to Sister
+Agnace he would say no more.
+
+Nor did he say a word now to disturb the peace of the dying woman.  He
+could hardly have done so; for whenever he came he found one or both of
+the girls sitting by her side, and they would suffer no word to be
+uttered to trouble her.  Indeed, he seemed to have no wish to utter any
+such word, and he came but seldom as the end drew near.
+
+His brother was ill again, "failing fast," he told Frederica, when she
+enquired.  It was Mr Jerome who did for them all that Mr St. Cyr would
+have done, had he been well.  He sent for their brothers when their
+mother grew worse.  He was kind and thoughtful for them in many ways,
+and said never a word to remind them that he believed them to be all
+wrong, or that their mother, dying out of the true Church, was going to
+no certainty of rest or happiness.
+
+Did he doubt it?  Who can tell?  He stood beside the dying bed in
+wonder.  "A new creature!"  Yes, there was no better word for it than
+that.  She was changed.  Instead of the fears, and cares, and anxious
+questionings of former days, there was in her heart and in her face "the
+peace that passeth understanding," "the joy unspeakable," which is
+theirs whom God loves.
+
+"I am not afraid.  `He loved me, and gave Himself for me,'" she said
+with difficulty, as he stooped for a moment over her.
+
+Afraid!  No.  There was no shadow of fear on the radiant face turned
+towards him, and in his heart, for the moment at least, he acknowledged
+that she had no cause for fear.  That there was need or room for any man
+to come between this passing soul and the Saviour who loved her, whom
+she loved, whom she hoped so soon to behold, could not surely be.  It
+was as though she already beheld Him, he could not but acknowledge.  But
+looking up, and meeting the gaze of Sister Agnace's asking eyes, he
+spoke no such word to her.
+
+"Is she safe?" asked she eagerly.  "Will you let her die unblessed of
+the Church? and must she perish?"
+
+But he did not answer.
+
+"May God have mercy on us all," said he solemnly.
+
+"Amen!" said Miss Agnace, crossing herself.  "Is it enough, I wonder?
+`He loved us, and gave Himself for us.'  `The blood of Jesus Christ His
+Son cleanseth us from all sin.'  That is what these children are always
+saying to her and to one another.  And surely she is cleansed and saved.
+Ah, well!  I will send at the very last for Father Jerome, and for
+Sister Magdalen, and it will be well, let us hope.  It ought to be
+enough, the blood of Jesus Christ."
+
+But neither Father Jerome nor Sister Magdalen was with her at the end.
+A very peaceful end to a troubled life it was.  Her children were all
+there, and Mr and Mrs Brandon.  They thought her dying early in the
+afternoon, but she revived again, and spoke to them all, and sent a
+message to their father.
+
+"Tell him I shall be waiting for him till he comes.  Are you here,
+Frederica?  Write it now beside me, that no time may be lost.  Tell him,
+`He loved us, and gave Himself for us.'"
+
+If she spoke after that, they did not catch the words.  They waited on,
+hour after hour, and so gently came the messenger, they scarce knew the
+moment when she was called.
+
+  "They thought her dying when she slept,
+  And sleeping when she died."
+
+Then "a change" came over the beautiful worn face.  Tessie uttered a
+startled cry, and Selina laid down her face on the hand growing cold in
+hers, Frederica, taking a step toward the door, said, "Now I must go to
+papa."  But she would have fallen, had not Miss Agnace put her arm
+around her.
+
+Then there were long, long days of waiting.  Awed by the remembrance of
+their mother's face, and the unwonted quiet of the house, the little
+boys now and then broke into momentary tears, and Tessie gave way
+sometimes, and cried bitterly.  Selina comforted them all.  She hardly
+realised yet what had befallen her.  She only thought that her mother
+was at rest--that the weariness of earth was over, and the joy of heaven
+begun, and she said to the others how blessed their mother was now, how
+safe, and satisfied, and how she was waiting for them all there.
+Frederica listened as the rest did, and watched with grave, attentive
+eyes all that was done in preparation for the funeral, but she hardly
+ever spoke a word.
+
+So Mrs Vane was carried away from the house where she was born, and
+where she had lived all her life.  Her little sons followed her to the
+grave, but her daughters remained at home, as is the custom in M. among
+people of their class.  They sat silent in the room where their mother
+had lain, refusing to leave it till their brothers came home.  Mrs
+Brandon was with them, and by-and-by Miss Agnace came and sat down by
+the door.  It grew dark, for the days were at the shortest, and it
+seemed a long time before the little boys came home.
+
+"And now I must go to papa," said Frederica that night, before Mrs
+Brandon went away.  Mrs Brandon looked in perplexity at Miss Agnace,
+who whispered,--
+
+"Say nothing to-night.  Look at her eyes and her changing colour.  She
+is not fit to be spoken to to-night.  Poor child!  There are weary days
+before her."
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+Miss Agnace was right.  The next day Frederica began with her own hands
+the preparations for the voyage she was determined to make, and Miss
+Agnace, going up in a little while to her room, found her lying on the
+floor, among the garments she had gathered together, quite insensible.
+She had come to the end of her strength now.  For the next few weeks she
+knew little of what was going on in the house.  Except that Selina was
+with her now, as well as Miss Agnace, the days passed very much as they
+had done after her father went away.
+
+Tessie went willingly back to school, for Madame Precoe's presence in
+the house was altogether distasteful to her.  Madame had taken up her
+abode with them, no one knew at whose request or suggestion.  Her stay
+gave pleasure to no one.  Mrs Brandon was more than displeased, she was
+indignant.  But there was no one to whom appeal could be made.  It was
+to be presumed that Mr Jerome was carrying out the plans of Mr St.
+Cyr, who was the proper person to act for Mrs Vane's children, and Mr
+Jerome approved of Madame's residence with them.  There was nothing to
+be done therefore but to wait patiently till their father came home.
+
+The boys were sent to school again within a few days after their
+mother's funeral.  Mr Jerome took them away, saying that school was the
+best place for them, and so no doubt it was.  The boys went away
+willingly, for their home was altogether changed now.
+
+For a good while Frederica was not sufficiently able to notice what was
+going on about her, to be unhappy because of these things.  Selina was
+constantly saying to herself and her sister, that it would be well with
+them, and they need not fear, and she believed it, and Frederica came to
+believe it too.
+
+But whether it was to be well with them or not, Frederica knew there was
+nothing she could do to help it.  What a poor weak little creature she
+felt herself to be!  Even Selina, whom she had meant to care for and
+comfort, was stronger than she--stronger and wiser, and more to be
+relied on in a time of trouble; and she found it difficult sometimes not
+to murmur at her weakness.
+
+She was very weak.  The slightest exertion tired her.  A word brought
+tears to her eyes.  She needed quite another kind of discipline than
+that which she was getting at the hands of her sister and Miss Agnace,
+Madame Precoe hinted to Mr Jerome, and she also hinted what sort of
+discipline it ought to be.  But either he did not agree with her, or had
+not the power to put her plans in practice, for the girls were left
+undisturbed together under Miss Agnace's care.
+
+"Selina," said Frederica one day, after a hint from Madame Precoe, "I
+had forgotten how very disagreeable Mrs Ascot used to be.  Her visit
+has taken away all the good effect of Miss Agnace's medicine."
+
+"Don't be foolish, Fred dear," said her sister.
+
+"Oh! you did not see her face, or the horrible shrug of her shoulders.
+You cannot know.  Has she quite taken possession of us and the house.  I
+wonder what her beloved Precoe can do without her!"
+
+"Fred," said Selina, laughing, and kissing her, "you are almost your old
+self again.  It delights me to see you vexed with Prickly Polly."
+
+Frederica laughed, partly at the old nickname, and partly at Selina's
+way of saying it; for French had always been Selina's language with her
+mother, and she spoke English with an accent not at all like the rest.
+
+"But she is not `Prickly Polly' now.  She is not easily offended as she
+used to be.  I have not tried certainly; but she has a grand and
+satisfied air, as though she had but to speak to put things on a
+pleasant footing--for herself at least."
+
+"You must rise, Fred, and sit on this chair.  You are quite well, I am
+sure.  She was not ten minutes in the room, and you saw all that."
+
+"Oh!  Selina," said Frederica, with a sigh, "it is very sad to think now
+of the days when we were young and had no trouble."
+
+"But then, we are still rather young, are we not?" said Selina gravely.
+"And if you remember, there never was a time when we were quite without
+trouble.  Always mama was ill, and there were other things sometimes."
+
+"Yes, that is true."
+
+"Mama will not suffer any more, and I am glad for her."
+
+But it was a tearful smile that bore witness to her gladness, and
+Frederica broke into weeping as she looked at her sister's face.
+
+"Oh!  Lena!  Lena!" she gasped, "are we never to have her with us any
+more? nor papa--"
+
+"Hush, Fred!  Don't cry like that," said Selina, crying herself, but
+more gently.  "Think how well she is, and how satisfied.  And papa may
+come home; but I don't think he will: I think he will go to mama.  He
+has had all this long time to think, and to be sorry.  And Jesus loves
+him too.  He gave Himself for _him_."
+
+"Oh!  Lena!  Lena!" was all that Frederica could say.
+
+"And, darling, think how glad mama will be! and nothing shall grieve
+them any more.  We shall be with them there; and you may go very soon,
+for you are not strong."
+
+Frederica was startled by her sister's words.
+
+"No.  I am not strong: but to die!  Lena, I must not die.  I must live
+to take care of you all.  Oh! what a foolish girl I am!  As though I
+could do anything!" and her tears fell fast as her sister tried to
+soothe her.
+
+"And, Lena, I would not like to die yet, even to see mama.  I am not
+good like you."
+
+"Hush, dear.  I think God will let you live to take care of us all.  And
+you are not to cry any more to-night.  For indeed, except that you are
+weak and tired, there is no cause."
+
+But Frederica was weak in body and mind, and cried herself to sleep, and
+Miss Agnace saw with anxiety her flushed wet cheeks when she came in.
+
+"I almost wish she might have her desire, and go away to England," said
+she as she stood looking at her.  "She needs something to rouse and
+interest her.  But perhaps Madame's plan for her would be best."
+
+"What is her plan?" asked Selina quickly.  "My child, Madame has given
+me no authority to speak of any plan of hers.  But I wish there could
+come a change of some kind for this poor Miss Frederica."
+
+"She is better, and I don't know why Madame Precoe should take trouble
+in making plans for us.  What has she to do with us, or our plans?"
+
+"Nay, my child!  It is not well to say anything in that voice and
+manner.  It is not like you.  It will all be well, as you often say.
+Why should you be afraid?"
+
+"Yes, it will be well," said Selina, and she thought so still, though
+she felt that her sister's eyes were wet beneath her kiss.  "We must
+have patience a little while.  It will all be well."
+
+"Yes, it will be well," said Miss Agnace, thinking how Father Jerome had
+set himself to the work of saving these children.  Yet she sighed, too;
+for she had learned to love them dearly, and she longed that they should
+be happy, as well as safe.  If Father Jerome were permitted to have his
+will as to their future life, she feared that suffering must come before
+the happiness.  She could not help them much, she knew, still she gave
+them good counsel, repeated her little legends, and prayed earnestly to
+Mary and the saints in their behalf.  In her heart she believed it would
+be well with them in the end, and in the meantime she longed to comfort
+them and to teach them as well.  So that night, as the young girls sat
+in the darkening room a little sad and dreary, with the tears not very
+far from the eyes of either of them, she said softly,--
+
+"My children, do you never comfort yourselves and one another by praying
+for your dear mother's soul?"
+
+Frederica looked at her in astonishment, not quite free from anger.
+
+"I do not understand you, Miss Agnace," said Selina gently.
+
+"It would soothe and comfort you, would it not, to feel that you might
+still do something for your dear mama?"
+
+"We do what we think would please her by loving one another, and caring
+for our brothers and Tessie.  We can do nothing more," said Selina.
+
+"Ah! who knows?" said Miss Agnace.  "It is dark beyond the grave."
+
+"The grave is dark, but beyond the grave is heaven.  Do you know what is
+said of it, Miss Agnace?  `And the city had no need of the sun neither
+of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and
+the Lamb is the light thereof.'  Frederica, read about it to Miss
+Agnace."
+
+But Frederica made no movement.
+
+"Miss Agnace does not care for the Bible.  Father Jerome is her Bible.
+I am glad he is not mine," said Frederica contemptuously; for she was
+not pleased with what Miss Agnace had said.  Miss Agnace took no notice.
+
+"We know so little," said she.  "But the Church teaches us that there
+are purifying fires through which some, even some of the saints, have
+had to pass to heaven.  Every day I pray that if your dear mother is not
+yet safe and happy, the time may be hastened."
+
+Frederica uttered an angry cry.
+
+"Nay, but I fear Father Jerome would say all that was wrong--to pray for
+the soul of a heretic."
+
+"Fred dear, that is quite wrong," said Selina, but she was herself very
+pale.  "If you please, Miss Agnace will not speak of these things on
+which we do not think alike.  But, Frederica, it is foolish to be
+angry."
+
+"But, my dear children, though we may keep silence, or forget, that will
+change nothing.  And the Church teaches no doctrine more clearly than
+that some must enter heaven through purifying fires."
+
+"We will not talk about it," said Frederica.
+
+If they had talked all night about it, Miss Agnace could have said no
+more.  The Church taught the doctrine--none more plainly--and there were
+examples enough, of which she could have told them.
+
+"No, we will speak no more," said Selina.  "Only this, Miss Agnace.
+There is a word which you believe as well as we: `The blood of Jesus
+Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.'  Now surely those who are
+cleansed in this precious blood need no purifying fires.  And there is
+nothing else.  The Book of God tells of no other way."
+
+"Yes, I know it is the blood of Jesus.  Still the Church is clear in her
+teaching, and it would do no harm to ask.  It might comfort you, and who
+knows--?"
+
+"It would be mockery; for we do not believe in it," said Frederica.
+
+"It would be wrong," said Selina.  "It would dishonour the Lord Jesus.
+He has done all for His people.  He saves to the uttermost, He needs no
+help from purifying fires.  Could any one say, could even David have
+said, `Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will
+fear no evil, for Thou art with me,' if there had been any danger that
+after all he might be left behind?  And the old man told us, `Death is
+swallowed up in victory.'"
+
+"The Bible is what we go by," said Frederica, "and we do not mind what
+else is said."
+
+"But, dear child," said Miss Agnace, showing no anger, though
+Frederica's manner might well have provoked it, "you have not read even
+all the Bible carefully; and besides, how can children like you
+interpret what is written there?  Indeed, it is because I love you that
+I speak of these things."
+
+"We know you love us," said Selina.  "But there is only this to be said:
+Jesus died that we might live for ever.  This is for you, and for us,
+and for all who believe on Him and love Him.  All other words are vain."
+
+Nothing more was said; but that Miss Agnace was grieved and anxious
+about them, they could plainly see.
+
+"Selina," said Frederica, when they were left alone, "did her words make
+you afraid?"
+
+"No," said Selina slowly, "I am not afraid."
+
+"But how did you know how to answer her?  I could only be angry.  But we
+will not speak about it.  Oh, dear!  I am so tired of Miss Agnace and
+her teaching.  I wish--"
+
+"But you like her better than Madame Precoe."
+
+"Much better, but why should we have either?"
+
+"I do not know.  But now we have both, and there seems to be no one
+else," said Selina, with a sigh.
+
+"Oh! if papa could only come!  We should have no more of Madame Precoe,
+or Father Jerome, or any of them.  Everybody seems to have forsaken us."
+
+"No.  A great many people have called.  But you have been so ill--and
+Madame does not care to have even Miss Robina come up.  Oh!  Fred dear,
+if you were only quite well again?"
+
+"I shall be well, I am determined.  I shall be equal to Madame Precoe
+very soon."
+
+"I do not know why she is here.  We do not need her more than we did
+before.  When you are well, you must ask Mr St. Cyr."
+
+"I shall be well I feel quite strong when I think of Madame Ascot
+Precoe.  And we can get Tessie home."
+
+"But that is not a very sure strength, I am afraid.  And the best way
+will be to wait patiently till papa comes home, or till--"
+
+Selina stopped suddenly, and Frederica, notwithstanding her boasted
+strength, burst into tears.  They felt very forlorn and friendless,
+these young girls.  There were many in M--who cared for them, and who
+would gladly have come to them with help and counsel.  But they seemed
+to be under other guardianship.  No offered kindness to them was well
+received either by Mr Jerome St. Cyr, or by Madame Precoe.  To the
+young people themselves there was little chance of access, and those who
+felt kindly towards them had no opportunity of showing their feelings.
+Even Mrs Brandon was kept at home by the care of an infant daughter,
+and no wonder that they began to feel their loneliness press sadly on
+them.
+
+"We can have Tessie home for awhile.  I will write a note to Miss
+Robina, and she will let her come.  Then she can read to us, and go out
+in the sleigh with you."
+
+The note was written, and Tessie came home, well pleased to be made
+useful, and they brightened up a little.  Frederica grew better, and was
+soon able to drive with her sisters.  She made several attempts, more or
+less successful, to let Madame Precoe see that she was not the mistress
+of the house, nor even the housekeeper, as she once had been.  She was
+too well bred, and heeded too entirely the peacemaking suggestions of
+Selina, to say or do anything to make her aware that she was not
+altogether a welcome visitor.  To all appearance Madame was quite
+content with her ill-defined position in the house, and willing to be on
+the best of terms with them all.  Tessie took less pains than the rest
+to be agreeable to her, but Madame would take no offence; and beyond a
+suggestion, that it was not wise to have Tessie losing so much of her
+time from school, she did not interfere with their arrangements with
+regard to her.
+
+But though there was nothing to disturb the outward quiet of the time,
+it was a time of trial to them all.  There was in every one of them a
+feeling that they were waiting for something--a sense of dread and
+doubt, that went deeper than the fear that they might never see their
+father again.  Of that there was little hope.  The tidings that came
+from him varied with every mail, and did not become more hopeful.  There
+never had been much hope that he would be quite well, and now it seemed
+doubtful whether he would be able to return home again; and gradually,
+as the winter wore away, there fell on them a dread of what might follow
+his death to them all.
+
+Mr St. Cyr was still an invalid, quite confined to the house.  They
+used to go round that way when they went to drive, and several times
+Frederica had made an attempt to see him.  But he was able to see no
+one, she was always told: His brother seemed to have taken his place
+with them, as far as the guidance of their affairs was concerned; but
+they did not trust Mr Jerome as they had been taught to trust Mr St.
+Cyr.  He was kind in many ways, granting without hesitation almost all
+the requests made to him, and refusing, when he was obliged to refuse,
+in a way which ought not to have offended them.  But it was not clear to
+them, that he had a right to assume any guardianship or authority over
+them, and they made one another unhappy, and sometimes angry, by
+discussing his possible motives, and the designs he might have with
+regard to them.
+
+If there had been nothing else, the stand he took with regard to Madame
+Precoe's residence with them would have made them dislike him.  He said
+decidedly, when appealed to, that she must remain.  A family of young
+girls in their circumstances could not well be left without some
+responsible person to take charge of them.  There was no one so well
+fitted for the position as Madame.  Her former residence in the house
+made this evident.  Her society was not, it seemed, indispensable to the
+happiness of Mr Precoe.  At least, she could be spared, and was willing
+to devote herself to their interests.  What complaint had they against
+her?
+
+They had no complaints, except that Tessie detested her, and Frederica
+did not trust her; but neither the one nor the other could give any
+satisfactory reason for the feelings entertained toward her, and she
+remained.
+
+She had taken the affairs of the house into her own hands from the very
+first.  There were changes made in various respects.  Old servants were
+dismissed for reasons which commended themselves to her judgment and the
+judgment of Mr Jerome, and she did not trouble the young ladies about
+the matter.  Still she was not unreasonable with regard to this, nor
+arbitrary, as the priest took pains to point out to them.  For when they
+indignantly exclaimed against the dismissal of old Dixen, Madame
+certainly did not look pleased, but she did not insist.  Dixen still
+kept his place in the house, and came and went at everybody's bidding,
+but he was no longer permitted to drive the young ladies as he had
+always done before.  It was dangerous in the crowded streets, Madame
+said, for Dixen was getting both deaf and blind, and his place was given
+to one whom she considered in every way worthy of confidence.
+
+Madame did not trouble herself to answer expostulations or objections.
+She did not resent Frederica's but half-concealed distrust, or Tessie's
+open impertinence.  Like every one else in the house, she seemed waiting
+for something--"biding her time," as Tessie said, and knowing her as
+they did, they were hardly to be blamed for looking forward with dread,
+and for the determination, daily strengthening, to resist her influence
+and interference when the time for change should come.
+
+Miss Agnace was with them still, but she was very grave and silent at
+this time.  Any day or hour she might be recalled to her hospital and
+her sick people again, and she was sad at the thought of leaving the
+children whom she had learned to love so well.  But she was sad for
+another reason too--a reason which ought _not_ to have troubled her.
+This silent, patient, humble woman, who had long ago forgotten what it
+was to have hopes, or fears, or wishes of her own, had her heart stirred
+to its utmost depths for the sake of these orphan children.  She was
+afraid for them.  And yet, why should she be afraid?  Why should she
+look forward with such dread to the change and separation that sooner or
+later must come to them?  Were they not to be in good keeping?  Had not
+Father Jerome given himself to the work of caring for their souls, of
+bringing them into the true Church? thus ensuring their happiness, both
+in this world and the next.  They must suffer a little while, being
+separated from each other; but with such good and gentle children the
+struggle would not be long.  Why should she fear for them?  So blessed
+an end would justify the use of any means, and who was she that she
+should judge the actions of one like Father Jerome?
+
+But in spite of her confidence in the priest, in spite of her reasonings
+and her indignation at herself because of her misgivings, she had
+painful sinkings of heart for the children's sakes.  Sometimes, as she
+sat listening to their conversation, or watched Frederica writing to
+their little brothers letters which would never reach them, because she
+knew they must be given by her into Father Jerome's hands, to be read
+and smiled at, and put into the fire, she had a feeling of pain and
+shame which no confidence in the priest, no belief in the good work he
+was to do in the saving of these children's souls, could quite put away.
+She knew that, with the will of Father Jerome, the sisters would not
+for years see their brothers again.  She knew that into his plans for
+them the entire separation of the sisters entered.  It might be best for
+them, she acknowledged, but it was very, very sad.
+
+The boys had not been sent back to the school from which they had been
+brought at the time of their mother's death.  They were in one of the
+great Catholic schools of the city, where hundreds of boys of all ages
+and classes were taught.  It was a good school, Miss Agnace believed,
+and they would be well taught and well disciplined, and where no evil
+could befall them.  It was the best place in the world for them, she was
+sure.  But she shrank with a feeling of pain and shame from the thought
+that their sisters were being deceived with regard to them.  And if it
+was wrong for Father Jerome and Madame Precoe, what was it for her, whom
+they loved and trusted, to deceive them?  Many a painful question, which
+she could not answer, came into Miss Agnace's thoughts during these days
+of waiting--questions which she called sinful--but which she could
+neither answer nor put quite away.
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+The winter wore slowly away.  The snow was fast disappearing from
+mountain and fields, and the streets were growing dirty and uneven, as,
+under the influence of the sun in the lengthening days of March, the ice
+began to yield, and an early spring was anticipated.
+
+Except for the sunshine, which is usually bright, this is not a pleasant
+time of the year in the city of M--.  It is a time for high winds, and
+the streets are rough when the frost is strong, and very wet and
+slippery when the thaw sets in; and people who are not obliged to go
+out, usually keep within doors for a week or two, till the season
+advances, and the streets are cleared.  But when, as happens in most
+seasons, a heavy fall of snow comes to restore for a day the reign of
+winter, few fail to avail themselves of the opportunity to renew the
+winter's chief enjoyment.  Sleigh bells tinkle merrily, and the streets
+are full of gay equipages gliding smoothly and noiselessly to and fro.
+
+Such a day came after a week of alternate rain and wind and sleet, and
+the sisters gladly found themselves speeding away from home and from the
+city streets.  The fresh air, the sunshine, and the rapid motion had an
+exhilarating effect upon their spirits after the confinement of the last
+few days, and the burden of doubt and dread that had fallen on them grew
+lighter.  The last English letter had been less discouraging than the
+former ones; Frederica was growing better and stronger, and they were
+more cheerful and lively than they had been for a long time.  Neither
+Madame Precoe nor Miss Agnace was with them, and they amused themselves
+with making plans as to what they were to do when their father came
+home.  For a long time it had been, "If papa comes home," but to-day
+they said cheerfully, "When papa comes home."
+
+"Oh, how glad papa will be to see us all again!" said Frederica.  "And,
+Lena and Tessie, I think he must have changed in some things."
+
+"He will be glad to get home, I am sure; but as to his being changed--I
+don't know about that," said Tessie.
+
+"He has suffered so much," said Frederica; "and God sends suffering to
+do people good.  And besides, Cecilia's letters make me think so."
+
+"And his little letters to us," said Selina.
+
+"Oh! if he were only safe home with us again!" said Frederica.  "This
+has been such a long winter, and I am afraid to think of the summer
+without papa or any one."
+
+"Any one!  We have only too many people;" and Tessie went on to say
+something not at all polite about Madame and Father Jerome, and they
+were in danger of taking up their burden again as they came back to the
+town.
+
+"Where are we?" asked Selina as the street noises told her they were
+near home.
+
+"We are in M--Street, near where the tall poplars are.  They are
+building a new house, and the fence has fallen down, and there are a
+great many sleighs passing along," said Frederica, as her manner was,
+using her eyes for her sister's benefit; and then Tessie went on,--
+
+"And here are school-boys, hundreds of them, I should think.  Listen to
+the noise as they pass.  A shabby lot they are.  The Brothers should
+dress their boys in uniform--they would look much nicer.  One would
+think all the old clothes in the town had been collected for their
+benefit."
+
+"Listen," said Selina suddenly, "Some one is calling Fred."
+
+They listened, but amid the jingling of bells and the trampling of feet
+nothing was heard.
+
+"It was Charlie's voice.  I am quite sure it was Charlie's voice," said
+Selina.
+
+"But Lena dear, it is quite impossible," said Tessie.  "Charlie is far
+away."
+
+"It was Charlie's voice.  First he called `Fred,' and then `Lena,
+Lena.'"
+
+The horses' heads were turned, and they drove slowly along by the line
+of boys.  There was noise enough, laughing, talking, and exclaiming, but
+no voice called `Fred' or `Lena.'  When they had passed, they turned
+again, and waited as the boys moved on, and both Fred and Tessie eagerly
+scanned each face as it came near.  There were all sorts of faces, dark
+and fair, handsome and ugly, bright, eager, laughing faces, and faces
+stupid, dull, and unhappy.  But the face of Charlie was not among them.
+
+"It was Charlie's voice," said Selina, and nothing could move her from
+that.
+
+They went home full of wonder and anxiety.  They told Miss Agnace about
+the voice that Selina had heard, but Miss Agnace said nothing.  They
+told Madame Precoe, when she came in, and she expressed more surprise
+than she needed to have expressed, seeing she had already heard all
+about the incident from Louis the coachman, as indeed, she generally
+heard of the incidents, and even of the conversations, that attended
+their drives, when she was not with them.
+
+By-and-by Mr Jerome came in, and he was interested too, but laughed a
+little at Selina's fancy.
+
+"You were thinking of your brother, and imagined the voice," said he.
+
+Selina said nothing.
+
+"Or rather, you heard many voices, and the names were a fancy, or why
+should not your sisters have heard them also?  It is nothing to look so
+grave about, my child."
+
+"It was Charlie's voice," said Selina.
+
+"And we were not thinking of our brothers, but looking and talking.  And
+Selina hears much more readily than we do," said Tessie.
+
+Frederica said nothing.  She was not strong yet, and she was in that
+nervous anxious state when nothing in the way of trouble seems
+impossible, and she looked pale and unhappy.
+
+"Could we not go to the school and ask if Charlie was among the boys?"
+said Tessie.
+
+"We could certainly do that," said Father Jerome, "if it would set your
+minds at rest.  Shall we go at once?"
+
+But Madame said the girls needed rest, and they must wait till
+to-morrow, or at least till afternoon, and this was acquiesced in by
+them all.
+
+Of course, when they went there, they found no Charlie.  They found a
+great many boys, who scanned them with sharp, attentive eyes, as they
+passed down the long class-room.  They heard them sing and do some of
+their lessons, and they saw them file down to the long dining-hall to
+their supper of dry bread and pease coffee.  Then they went through
+other long rooms, and through the great dormitory, where the little grey
+beds stood close together in long rows, and where nothing else was seen.
+They went up many stairs, and looked down on numberless city roofs, and
+that was all.
+
+Everybody was polite and attentive, and thanked them for coming, and
+asked them to come again.  Then Madame Precoe and each of the girls put
+a piece of money in the charity box that hung on the wall near the door,
+and then they went away.
+
+That was all.  Of course it had been very foolish in them to expect to
+see their brother, Fred and Tessie said to one another as they walked
+down the stairs; but when they came home and saw Selina's expectant
+face, they looked at one another in doubt again.
+
+Madame sat with them that evening, and exerted herself to amuse them and
+to withdraw their thoughts from their brother, and from Selina's foolish
+fancy about the voice she had heard.  Miss Agnace was rarely with them
+when Madame was there, and when she went upstairs with them she would
+not linger to talk with them as she sometimes did.
+
+"You are not to listen to them or speak about this foolish fancy, and
+they will forget it," said Madame to her.  "In a few days it will not
+matter what they know.  But in the meantime they might complicate
+matters by discussing their affairs with other people.  And remember,
+should any one call when I am out, the young ladies are engaged.  And
+should it be impossible to deny any one, remember you must know all that
+may be said."
+
+Miss Agnace assented silently.
+
+"And when you go as usual to Mr St. Cyr's, remember you are to say
+nothing of this foolish fancy of Miss Selina's.  He could do nothing,
+even if he understood; and they will soon be out of his hands, and the
+sooner the better for all concerned.  You understand what I wish, do you
+not?"
+
+Again Miss Agnace assented in silence.  She was by no means sure how all
+this would seem to her, when she should have time to think it over, but
+there was nothing to be said.  She was not bound to obey blindly Madame
+Precoe's commands, except as they expressed the will of Father Jerome
+also; and in the single moment in which she permitted herself to
+question, a great many unhappy thoughts rushed into her mind.  And they
+would not be put away, even when it became clear to her that for the
+plans with regard to the future of these children, and all that they
+involved, Father Jerome was responsible.  Madame Precoe was but an
+instrument in his hands, as she herself was.  Father Jerome must not be
+accused of doing wrong--at least, the end he had in view was right, and
+that ought to be enough.
+
+Ought it to be enough?  Poor Sister Agnace had never been in the habit
+of deciding between right and wrong for herself, and she was sadly
+puzzled now.  It was such a pity, she thought, that it was necessary to
+deceive these children for their good.  There would be strong resistance
+on their part, she began to fear, to the power that was shaping their
+fate.
+
+"And they will suffer.  Oh! how they will suffer?" said the poor anxious
+creature to herself.  "But it is for their souls' sake, and their
+suffering will only be for this world; and surely, Mary and the saints
+will soften their trouble, poor darlings!  Father Jerome must, of
+course, be right.  But it hurts me to deceive them, because they love me
+a little, and trust me."
+
+She went that night to pay her usual monthly visit to Mr St. Cyr.  She
+answered his questions.  She told him no lie, but she kept silence, as
+Madame had bidden her, about all that could have awakened the anxiety of
+their friend and guardian on their account.  Unintentionally she made
+him aware that Madame Precoe was living with them; but he said nothing.
+
+He thanked Miss Agnace for her care of the girls and their mother, and
+for her love and faithfulness to them, and expressed a hope that as long
+as they should need her, she might be permitted to remain with them.
+Poor Miss Agnace!  She went into a church on her way home, and knelt for
+a long hour or two in the cold and darkness, but she carried still her
+burden of doubt and care when she went away.
+
+A few more weeks passed away.  Frederica said nothing now about going to
+her father, for they were not without hope that when the spring came he
+might return home.  He longed very much to come, they knew, and they
+permitted themselves to hope, almost to believe, that they would see him
+again, and waited for his coning with what patience they could command.
+
+Tessie went to school again after the Easter holidays, and they missed
+her sadly.  But they both strove conscientiously, not only to be
+patient, but to be happy, in the great lonely house that had so changed
+to them.  But waiting is weary work to young and eager hearts, and time
+passed slowly.
+
+The day for Tessie's first visit came, and they amused themselves making
+preparations for her entertainment.  But hour after hour passed, and she
+did not appear.  Instead of Tessie, came Madame with her work-basket in
+her hand, and with the evident intention of remaining.  It was not a
+pleasant prospect, and it is to be feared they were not quite able to
+hide their discomfort under it.
+
+"Frederica," said Madame, "pray do not be so restless--so unsettled.
+You had much better take your work, and be content to sit still."  But
+Frederica could settle to nothing till Tessie came.
+
+"Expect Tessie?  Nay, you need not do that Tessie is not coming home."
+
+"Excuse me, Madame, but it was certainly to-day that we agreed on for
+her visit, and Miss Glencairn will be sure to allow her."
+
+"But unfortunately it is not a question of Miss Glencairn's kindness.
+It has long been evident that Miss Tessie has got beyond Miss Glencairn
+and her little attempts at education; and she has been sent elsewhere--
+to the ladies of the Sacred Heart, where you all should have been sent
+long ago.  I have no doubt she will be quite happy there.  She will, at
+all events, be judiciously dealt with."
+
+Astonishment kept the sisters silent, and Madame went on--
+
+"A most necessary and important step, I consider it.  It is only to be
+regretted that so much time has been lost."
+
+Frederica so trembled with indignation, that she could not speak.
+Selina made a movement toward her, and holding her hand firmly, said,--
+
+"Remember, Fred, nothing can really harm Tessie, or any of us.  And,
+Madame, you will excuse us from discussing this matter with _you_.  It
+is painful to us, and it cannot concern you."
+
+"Except as I approve of it entirely.  You do me injustice.  I take the
+greatest possible interest in this matter, and in you."
+
+"And who took the responsibility to advise such a step?" asked
+Frederica.  "Does Mr St. Cyr know it?  What do you suppose papa will
+say?"
+
+"I advised it, and Mr Jerome St. Cyr saw the propriety of it.  Mr St.
+Cyr is in no state of health to say anything about such a matter.  As
+for Mr Vane--" added Madame, and paused, with a look that sent a chill
+to the girls' hearts.  There had no letter come to them by the last
+mail.
+
+"What of papa?" said Selina, "Have you heard anything that we do not
+know?"
+
+"As to this affair of Tessie?  No, I have heard nothing.  Should he ever
+return, he will doubtless recall her, unless she should wish to remain.
+I dare say she is quite happy there by this time."
+
+"Fred, love, do not let us vex ourselves.  Tessie is at least quite safe
+there.  But, Madame, why was it thought necessary to conceal her going
+there from us?  Why did you deceive us?"
+
+"Nay, you forget--I have nothing to do in this affair.  I suppose Father
+Jerome feared that you might make yourselves unhappy.  It was for your
+sakes that his intentions were not explained to you.  Now that your
+sister is there, you must acknowledge that the convent is quite the best
+place for her.  At all events, no change will be made now."
+
+Frederica was sick at heart.  If she were to utter the angry words that
+rose to her lips, she knew it would do no good.  She knew not what to
+do.
+
+"Fortunately, here comes Father Jerome; you may discuss the matter with
+him, and I will leave you;" and Madame rose to leave the room.
+
+"At this moment it would not be agreeable to us," said Selina.  "He has
+deceived us, and we decline to see him just now."
+
+"What right has he to intermeddle in our affairs?" burst in Frederica;
+"a man whom neither our father nor mother ever trusted."
+
+Madame laughed.
+
+"It is as well to decline his visit at this moment.  Later he will, I
+think, make you understand his right to meddle in your affairs, and his
+power to do so," said Madame, as she left the room.
+
+"Selina, what shall we do?  Selina, I am beginning to be afraid."
+
+"But then you know, dear, nothing can really harm us.  You read it
+yesterday--`Who is he that can harm you, if ye be followers of that
+which is good?'"
+
+"Oh!  I don't remember, and that may not mean us.  Selina, I am afraid."
+
+"But, Fred, love, it must mean us, I think.  We must not let the promise
+go, as though God would change.  Read it, dear--to please me;" and she
+put the Bible into her sister's hand.  "And in another place it is said,
+`All things shall work together for good to them that love God.'  We
+love Him, Fred.  He has been very good to us."
+
+Frederica took the Bible and read,--
+
+"`For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and His ears are open
+unto their prayers.  But the face of the Lord is against them that do
+evil.
+
+"`And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is
+good?'"
+
+Selina's face grew bright as she listened.
+
+"Fred, love, why should we be afraid?  It is wrong to be afraid."
+
+"Well," said Frederica, with a long breath, "I will not be afraid.  I
+think I am more angry than afraid."
+
+"But anger will not help us.  Read what you read yesterday," said
+Selina.
+
+Frederica read on to the end of the chapter, and then turned back to the
+one before it, the second of First Peter.  They could not have explained
+all those beautiful and wonderful words--nay, they knew that most of
+them they understood very imperfectly.  But they could take comfort from
+them, lingering over a verse here and there, and speaking to one another
+words which might not have been very wise, but which were always
+reverent and trustful.
+
+"It is `as new-born babes' that He speaks to us.  And babes are neither
+wise nor strong.  But He cares for them all the same, and surely we
+`have tasted that the Lord is gracious,'" said Selina.
+
+And so she went on to the end.  It quieted them, and they went out to
+the garden to get the good of the sunshine, not less cheerfully than
+usual.  The faces that the priest caught sight of as they passed were
+brighter than he had seen them for a good while.
+
+"See, they have forgotten their troubles already," said he, smiling.
+"You are mistaken in thinking they will resist.  Sister Agnace is
+mistaken in thinking they will suffer.  They will yield to circumstances
+and a strong will.  From whom could they have inherited strength?
+Neither from father nor mother."
+
+"Frederica is like the little Jewess her grandmother.  She may have
+inherited her strength," said Madame.  "I wish you could have seen her
+as I saw her a little while ago."
+
+"Ah, well!  She has forgotten her anger already.  See the little
+butterfly flitting about in the garden.  There is nothing to fear from
+her."
+
+"I will send Sister Agnace to keep an eye on your butterfly.  It is not
+necessary that they should tell their affairs to old Dixen who is
+there."
+
+She returned immediately.
+
+"Of what are you then afraid, if not of the `little Jewess'?" asked she.
+
+"There is nothing to fear.  Everything is prospering beyond my hopes."
+
+"And your brother?"
+
+"He is better.  But I do not think he will seriously object to the plans
+I have in view for these children.  Indeed, I have no plans for them.
+That will be for those who are to be appointed as their guardians.  I
+hope to name these guardians.  Cyprien may not agree with me, but still
+I think it can be arranged to suit us both."
+
+"And are you sure that their mother and your brother did not appoint
+them, even after you found the torn paper on your brother's table?"
+
+"It is impossible.  If indeed there were any guardians legally
+appointed, that might make the work I have set myself more difficult.
+Other means would have to be used."
+
+"Ah, well!  I doubt if ever you can make a nun of `the little Jewess,'"
+said Madame.
+
+"Nothing is farther from my wish than to do that.  Her sister shall be a
+nun and a saint, and if by any miracle of science and skill her
+blindness may be cured, it shall be so done, that even by that the
+Church shall receive honour, and her power be extended and strengthened.
+Your `little Jewess,' your `butterfly,' shall be allowed to shine in
+society, and to take her fill of the pleasure she tasted last year.  A
+few years with the good sisters first will do much for her.  When she is
+properly submissive to those who have a right to direct her, she shall
+have her own way.  I am not afraid."
+
+"And her brothers: what are they to be?"
+
+"After ten, or even seven years with the good fathers, they shall choose
+for themselves."
+
+"And if Mr Vane should return?  It is not impossible."
+
+"It _is_ impossible.  Mr Vane is dead."
+
+"Dead!" repeated Madame.  Even she was shocked at the tidings, or the
+suddenness of the announcement.
+
+"I have known it for a week.  Cyprien does not know it yet, but all must
+know it soon."
+
+"And have you come to tell these girls?"
+
+"No.  They will probably have letters to-night,--the steamer has
+arrived, I see,--and then no time must be lost.  They must not have a
+chance to talk over their affairs with all the world, who will come to
+condole with them."
+
+"And will you not see them?"
+
+"You forget.  They decline to see me," said the priest laughing.  "I
+hope to find them in better humour another time."
+
+Madame did not laugh.
+
+"It is not impossible that all your plans for them may be frustrated
+after all," said she.
+
+"For the moment, it is not impossible.  But I shall never, while I live,
+give up the hope of making them and their wealth of use to the Church,
+and when I die others will take up the work.  There is nothing
+impossible.  They, or their children, or their children's children--and
+their wealth must be ours."
+
+"There is only God Himself stronger than you and the Church, and these
+children believe Him to be on their side."
+
+"They are but children," said the priest, but he frowned darkly at her
+words, as he turned to go away.
+
+Madame sat still, looking after him in silence, Mr Jerome's tidings had
+moved her more than she would have thought possible.  She sat lost in
+painful thoughts till Miss Agnace came in.  She felt that she could not
+yet meet the questioning eyes of these orphan girls.
+
+"I am going out," said she, rising hastily.  "If any one calls, the
+young ladies are not to be seen."
+
+She went out immediately and Miss Agnace did not follow her to say to
+her what she had come to say.
+
+"It will keep.  Perhaps she need not be told," said she to herself.
+
+It seemed that Miss Agnace had not been needed in the garden, or rather
+the need for her was past, before she had been sent out.  She met the
+girls returning to the house.  They were very quiet but there was some
+restrained excitement in their manners, as she remembered afterwards.
+They went to their own room, where she had supposed they both remained
+till she went to tell them that luncheon was served.  But only Selina
+was there.  Frederica had gone to see their sister Caroline, she told
+Miss Agnace.
+
+"But my dear, should she not have asked permission, or at least have
+said that she was going, or have taken the carriage.  It is not well
+that a young lady should go out alone, and she is not strong."
+
+"Of whom should she ask permission?" said Selina coldly.
+
+And so Miss Agnace had gone to let Madame know, as Madame expected her
+to let her know everything that went on in the house.  But she had not
+waited to hear, and Frederica had been allowed to have her own way.
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+Madame Precoe's care in sending Sister Agnace into the garden because of
+old Dixen, had been more needed than she supposed, but it came too late
+to be of use.  The old man had been busy near one of the walks as they
+entered, and he had answered their greeting very briefly.  But as he
+stooped again he said hurriedly,--
+
+"She thinks I am blind, but I can see her and the priest at the window
+looking out.  Go round to the other side behind the hedge, young ladies
+dear, for I have something to tell you."
+
+He worked on for a little while after they had disappeared.  He worked
+his way along the walk till he was out of sight of the windows, then
+coming close to them he said in a whisper, as though he feared to be
+overheard,--
+
+"I have seen the little lads.  Mrs Hearn told me something that made me
+think they were at the school with her boys.  I never let on that it was
+not all right, and I watched afterwards, and saw them walking with the
+rest.  But they do not always walk, and they are well watched."
+
+"I knew it was Charlie's voice," said Selina.
+
+"Oh!  Lena!  Oh!  Dixen!  What shall we do?" said Frederica, clasping
+her hands.
+
+"Fred love!  God will take care of them."  But Selina herself grew pale.
+
+"And is it true that Miss Tessie was sent away to the convent without a
+word to you two?" went on Dixen.  "I'm sore feared that something must
+have happened to the master, or they would never have dared to do that."
+
+"But it cannot be that, Dixen.  For the boys must have been there a long
+time.  They were never sent back, I suppose," said Frederica.
+
+"And we have heard nothing from papa for a fortnight," said Selina.
+
+"It does not look well," said Dixen.  "But, children dear, you are not
+to fret.  The boys are safe enough.  No harm can come to them.  We are
+living in the Queen's dominions, thank God, and evil things can only be
+done in secret.  And, Miss Fred dear, you should go to Mrs Brandon, and
+tell her about Miss Tessie and the little lads.  And somebody that is
+wise in the law should be told.  I would have gone myself, but nobody
+would heed such a story from the like of me.  I am sore feared that no
+good is meant to you all.  And the priests are everywhere, and have the
+means of making men do their will, that we know nothing of.  Only here
+they must keep things quieter than in some places.  But don't let them
+smuggle you all off without a word.  They will tell you it is your souls
+they would save, but it is your grandfather's money they want as well.
+And here is that soft-spoken nun coming to hear what I may be saying.
+Be sure you go to your sister this very day."
+
+In his increasing excitement the old man used some words that are not
+put down, and he went muttering to himself away.
+
+"Here is Miss Agnace," said Frederica.
+
+"We must be very quiet, and let her see nothing.  Let us walk round the
+other way to the house," said Selina.
+
+"And I will go to Caroline.  Anything is better than to sit still and
+think about it," said Frederica excitedly.
+
+They walked very quietly into the house, and went to their room.
+
+"I will go at once, as Dixen said," and Frederica's preparations were
+soon made.
+
+The room where Madame and the priest were sitting looked back upon the
+garden, so she got away without being seen.  She had gone but a few
+steps, when she heard Dixen's voice behind her.
+
+"You are but weakly yet, Miss Frederica," said he, when she waited for
+him, "and I will come with you.  Just you go on without heeding me.  I
+will keep in sight.  Can you walk all the way, think you?"
+
+Frederica was doubtful about it.  She was excited, and trembling, hot
+and cold by turns.  She was not very hopeful as to any help she could
+get from her sister.  She was ill, and her husband was cautious, and not
+easily moved, and above all averse to interfere in matters where his
+right to do so was not acknowledged.
+
+"And he will say it is Mr St. Cyr that is doing all this--and it is not
+impossible," said Frederica, with a new pang of terror.  "But I don't
+think he would deceive us.  I will go to the school myself.  I will take
+them by surprise, and they will not have time to hide them as they must
+have done before, and I will take them away."
+
+It was not a very wise idea.  Dixen shook his head, but Frederica
+persisted, and the old man followed her up the street.  But before they
+had gone far they heard the hum of many voices, and the long line of
+boys came in sight.  Frederica turned into a doorway, and waited till
+they passed, scanning each face eagerly.  They were for the most part
+bigger boys than her brothers.  She looked in vain for the face of
+either of them, and stood gazing blankly after the long line as it
+passed down the street.  The gate stood open, and she went and looked
+in.  The side door stood open also.
+
+"Dixen," said she hurriedly, "I am going in.  They cannot do me any
+harm, and I may see Charlie, or little Hubert."
+
+But this seemed a dreadful thing to Dixen.
+
+"Miss Frederica, I cannot think it would be well to go.  No one knows
+what might happen," said he in distress.
+
+"I am not afraid, Dixen.  Yes, I am a little afraid.  But I have prayed
+to God, and so has Selina, and He will take care of me.  Wait at the
+corner; and if I don't come out in half an hour; you must tell some one,
+and come for me."
+
+But she did not keep him half that time.  She went slowly up the steps
+and in at the door.  She did not go forward into the wide hall as she
+had done when they came with Father Jerome, but turned at once, and went
+up a narrow stair, down which the sound of voices came.  Still following
+the sound, she came to a room where a score or two of little boys were
+amusing themselves.  They did not see her at first, and she stood
+watching them for a little while.  She did not see her brothers, but she
+called softly several times,--
+
+"Charlie!  Hubert! are you here?"  And as she spoke, a little hand
+touched hers, and she turned to meet the wondering eyes of her youngest
+brother.  Without a word, she drew him outside of the room, and along
+the passage toward the stairs.
+
+"Where is Charlie?" uttered she with difficulty.  "No, we must not look
+for him.  I have one safe, and I can come again for Charlie."
+
+It does not sound possible that this should have happened, but it is
+perfectly true.  The stairs were passed, and the hall, and they ran
+across the yard, and into the street, and no eye had seen them.  At
+least, no hand had stopped them.  It would not have been easy to stop
+them, Frederica thought; for her courage rose to the occasion the moment
+she felt the touch of her little brother's hand.  It was a happy thing
+that no one tried.  Dixen rubbed his eyes as they passed him without a
+word, but he lost not a moment in following them.  After they had
+crossed a good many streets, they paused, and he overtook them.
+
+"Where shall we go?  Not home.  To Mrs Brandon's?  Yes.  And you must
+go home and tell Selina.  Go quickly, Dixen, before you are missed."
+
+In her haste she had not noticed the way she was taking.  The streets
+were not familiar to her and as she hurried on, hardly daring to speak
+to her brother, or even to look at him, she became bewildered and
+anxious, and her courage failed a little.
+
+"I am afraid Caroline will think I have been foolish.  And they will be
+sure to look in her house, as they will not find him at home.  Oh! if I
+only had a safe place in which to hide him for a few days!"
+
+She thought of Mr St. Cyr's house.  But then she was not sure that
+their old friend had remained true to them.  And besides, he was ill,
+and Father Jerome was often there, and the house was no place for
+Hubert.
+
+"A safe place," repeated she, and then there came into her mind the
+thought of Mistress Campbell and her garret, where there never entered a
+creature, but Eppie herself.  Without a moment's hesitation, she turned
+her steps in the direction of Mrs Glencairn's house.
+
+"Hubert dear," said she coaxingly, "you will be very good, won't you,
+and stay with Mistress Campbell till I know what I ought to do.  No one
+will think of looking for you there."
+
+"But are we not going home?  Why should we not go home?" demanded
+Hubert.
+
+"It is quite impossible to-night," said Fred firmly.  "Father Jerome
+would have you back at school again this very night.  You cannot go
+home."
+
+"Father Jerome?  What has he to do with it?  I don't know what you mean,
+Fred."
+
+"Was it not he who took you there, when he should have taken you back to
+your former school again?"
+
+No, Hubert thought not.  He did not remember very well about it.  But
+Father Jerome had nothing to do with their going to school.  But
+Frederica had her doubts about it all the same, and hurried on.
+
+"But we cannot go home, because mama is not there, nor papa.  But Madame
+is there, and you may be sure she would not let you even stay one night,
+but send you back at once, and they would be sure to punish you for
+coming without leave."
+
+"It is you they ought to punish, Fred, I think," said Hubert.
+
+"Ah! wouldn't they.  If they could!  And tell me about about Charlie.
+Where was he?"
+
+"But Hubert knew very little about his brother.  They very seldom saw
+each other.  They were not in the same class."
+
+"And are they good to you?  Are you glad to come away?"
+
+It was not so, bad as it might be.  Still, Hubert was very glad to get
+away.  Some of the boys were not nice, and they had queer ways there.
+But of his life there he had no complaint to make.  In the midst of his
+talk they reached Mrs Glencairn's house.  They went round to the door
+at the wing at which the pupils entered.  They stumbled over a
+scrubbing-brush and a pail of water at the open door, but they saw no
+one; and went up till they reached the attic unseen.
+
+"Where are we going?" said Hubert, holding fast his sister's hand in the
+dimness, of the little passage.  "Into the spider's parlour, I think."
+
+"By no means," said Frederica, as she knocked.  "We are going to see
+Mistress Campbell; who used to be so good to Tessie and me when we were
+at school.  And you must not look surprised at anything you may see.
+And, Hubert dear, you will be a good boy, won't you?"
+
+"Oh, yes, of course.  Why should I not be good?" said Hubert
+impatiently.
+
+"Eh, Missy! is this you?" exclaimed the old woman, holding up her hands
+in astonishment.  "And this is your wee brother?--a bonny laddie, but--"
+
+Mistress Campbell could not finish her sentence; for, excited and tired
+beyond her strength, Frederica burst into tears.
+
+"My bairn! what is it?" said Eppie.  "To think of my folly in speiring
+that I after all that has come to you and yours, since we saw you here.
+But, my dear, you have no cause to grieve--for your mama--"
+
+Frederica put up her hand to stop her.
+
+"No--I am glad for mama--but--I am frightened--and tired."
+
+"Sit down and rest you, my bairn," said her old friend tenderly.  "Go
+away yonder to your window, and I'll make acquaintance with your brother
+here--a fine lad he is."
+
+Hubert, though a little startled at the sight of Frederica's tears, had
+never taken his eyes from the small brown wrinkled face of the old
+woman, and he met her look with an undisguised curiosity and wonder that
+amused her.
+
+"Your wee brother, did I say?  No, this must be the elder of the two--
+and a fine well-grown lad he is," said Mistress Campbell admiringly.
+
+"No, Charlie is bigger than I am," said Hubert gravely.
+
+"Dear me!  I ay thought Miss Frederica's brothers were but wee boys; but
+you have had time to grow, it's true, since I have been in the way of
+hearing about you.  You're near hand as big as Miss Frederica herself."
+
+This was not saying very much, but it won the good-will of Hubert,
+whether she meant it to do so or not.  And some interesting confidences
+followed on his part, in the midst of which his sister found him, when
+she recovered herself.
+
+"And you'll bide to your tea with me," said Mistress Campbell.  "I'm
+sore failed since you were here, Miss Frederica, but I am not altogether
+helpless yet.  So you'll bide still a wee while."
+
+But Frederica was not sure that they ought to stay.
+
+"First, I must tell you why we came," said she.
+
+She told the story hurriedly, and it was doubtful whether Mrs Campbell
+followed her closely through it all.  She understood, however, that Miss
+Tessie had been "spirited away," as she called it, and that from some
+dread mysterious fate Frederica had courageously rescued her little
+brother, and that in some way she was relied on for help.
+
+"But I thought the days for such things were long past, and that they
+only whiles happen in books," said he wondering.  "But dear! dear!  What
+is the like o' me to ken about what is going on in the world?  And one
+has but to look out, first at one window and then another, at the great
+buildings that are rising up on every hand, to be sure that the `scarlet
+woman' has this for a favoured abiding-place.  And I doubt she's no'
+much changed since the old days, though her hands are a wee tied.  And
+you rescued your brother, did you?  'Deed you're a brave lassie."
+
+But Hubert had no idea of being looked on as rescued.
+
+"If I had known you cared about it, Fred, I could have run away any
+time--I could have done it quite easily."
+
+"I'm no' just so sure o' that," said Mistress Campbell gravely.  "If
+these long-coated gentry had a motive for keeping you, they wouldna have
+let you go, or they would have had you back again."
+
+"Yes, and no one must know where he is," said Frederica anxiously.  "I
+could think of no other safe place to bring him to.  And, Hubert dear,
+if Mistress Campbell will have you, you will stay here quietly till I
+can see Caroline and Mr Brandon, or till papa comes home."
+
+"There has nothing happened to your papa, has there?  They're bold,
+these folk, or they're sure o' their ground," said Mistress Campbell
+gravely.
+
+"Dixen said that about papa.  But we have had no more news.  We had no
+letter last mail."
+
+"Oh well!  No news is good news, they say; and it's utter nonsense to
+think that anything can really happen to harm you in a Christian country
+like this."
+
+"And in the Queen's dominions, as Dixen said," echoed Frederica
+hopefully.
+
+"And I'll keep the laddie safe, though the whole Inquisition were after
+him.  That's no' just the name they get here, I daresay; but I'll keep
+the laddie, if he'll bide."
+
+"You cannot go home, Hubert dear; for Madame Precoe is there, and Father
+Jerome; and though he is so smooth and pleasant, I do not trust him;
+and, indeed, I don't know what to do.  Will you stay, dear Hubert?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll stay, if you make a point of it.  But there is no danger
+for me," said Hubert loftily.
+
+"Did you like staying at the school, my lad?  Were they good to you?"
+
+"At first I did not like it.  Oh, yes, they were kind enough.  They're a
+rough lot, however, and I would not like to go back, since Fred objects
+to it."
+
+The door opened, and Frederica uttered a cry.  It was only Miss Robina,
+however, not one of the servants, as she had feared.  Of course there
+were more exclamations, and the story was told again, but the part dwelt
+on now was the taking away of Tessie from Mrs Glencairn's, and sending
+her to the convent, without even telling her sisters.
+
+"We did not know it till this morning, and I was angry and frightened.
+We could have done nothing, even if we had known.  There is no one but
+Mr Brandon who has a right to say anything, and he does not like to
+interfere with Mr St. Cyr.  But I think that has been done by Mr
+Jerome and Madame Precoe, and not Mr St. Cyr.  I should be in despair
+if I thought Mr St. Cyr had turned against us."
+
+"Have they heard that Mr Vane is worse?" asked Miss Robina anxiously.
+
+Frederica turned pale: "They all ask that.  Dear Miss Robina, do you
+think he is really worse.  What must we then do?"
+
+"My darling, don't be troubled.  No harm can really come to you.  It is
+not to be believed.  Have you seen Mr St. Cyr?  He is a man of high
+character.  He will do nothing wrong--nothing unlawful, surely."
+
+"He has been ill.  They thought him dying.  I have not seen him for a
+long time.  Oh! if papa would only come home!  No, I am not going to
+cry.  But I am tired, and--yes--I am afraid."
+
+"When had you your dinner?" asked Mistress Campbell gravely.  Frederica
+laughed.
+
+"I don't know; I don't think I had any."
+
+"And no wonder you are faint-hearted.  Just you lie down and rest you,
+and you will be another creature when you get your tea."
+
+But Frederica was too excited and anxious to rest.  She enjoyed her tea,
+however, and so did Hubert.  He had evidently not been used to dainty
+fare of late, and he yielded to Mistress Campbell's entreaties to eat,
+with entire willingness and enjoyment Fred found her strength and
+courage renewed when she rose to go.  "I will come again soon, if I am
+not carried away too," said she laughing.
+
+"My dear, it is no laughing matter," said Mistress Campbell gravely.
+"May the Lord preserve you all?"
+
+"He will, Selina says.  She is not afraid.  Selina is better than I am,"
+said Fred humbly.
+
+"But then it's no' our deserts we are to lippen to.  You'll be cared
+for, never fear.  He'll give His angels charge, and He'll no' leave it
+altogether to them either.  He'll raise some one up to take the orphan's
+part."
+
+Miss Robina promised to come and see her soon, and bring her tidings of
+Hubert, who was already so sound asleep, that he could not be awakened
+to say good-bye; and somewhat reassured and comforted, Frederica went
+away.
+
+But how lonely and friendless she felt, as she went down the familiar
+street!  By some association, which it would not have been easy to
+trace, there came back to her the remembrance of their unexpected
+holiday at Easter.  Oh, how long it seemed, since these two happy
+children had gone dancing down the street!  How light-hearted they had
+been! how fearless of all possible evil!
+
+At the corner of the street down which she and Tessie had run to avoid
+the chance of meeting Mrs Ascot, she paused a moment.  Could it be
+possible that their old friend who had been so kind to them that day,
+should have turned against them?  She remembered how he had walked on
+with them, and the promise he had made to help her if ever she were in
+trouble.
+
+"And he did help me ever so many times.  I cannot believe that he knows
+all that is making us unhappy and afraid.  I will go and see him now."
+
+In a minute she was standing on the steps that went down to the wide
+door of the house.  It was not open as she had found it once before,
+when she came to him with her troubles.  But when it opened at the sound
+of the bell, she gave the servant no time to say as usual, that her
+master could see no one; but passing her softly and quickly, sprang
+upstairs like a bird.  It was still quite light out of doors, but the
+passage was dark, and so was the room into which she went.  There was a
+fire in the grate, however; and before she saw Mr St. Cyr, she saw his
+shadow on the wall, and paused a moment to get breath.  Then as she
+heard a footstep at the door, she came forward.  Mr St. Cyr must have
+been asleep, she thought, for at first he looked at her in a wondering
+way, as though he did not know her, and she therefore hastened to speak.
+
+"Are you better, Cousin Cyprien?"
+
+"It is not Theresa--is it?" said he, with little pauses between the
+words, as though he did not find it easy to utter them.
+
+"Not Theresa, but Fred.  Are you better, cousin?"
+
+"Ah! my little cousin--who comes to me--in her trouble--but who does not
+come to me in mine."
+
+"I have been here often, but you were too ill to see me, they said
+always.  Are you better now?"
+
+"Yes--I am better, I think.  Once they told me--I was dying--" He
+paused.
+
+"And were you afraid, Cousin Cyprien?" said Frederica, looking with awe
+into his changed face.
+
+"Was it fear that I felt?  There was fear, and a thrill of something
+that was not fear.  Now--I said--I shall know the mystery of death--and
+the beyond."
+
+"Cousin, mania was not afraid.  Even at the last, when death was very
+near, she was not afraid, because--"
+
+In her earnestness she had knelt down beside the old man; and now, as
+her voice failed, she laid her face down on his knee.  His trembling
+right hand was laid on her head.
+
+"So--she has gone!  She has solved the mystery."
+
+"Did you not know, Cousin Cyprien?  Did not Mr Jerome tell you?  He
+feared to grieve you."
+
+"Doubtless--it was for that or for some other good reason.  I am glad I
+did not die."
+
+"But mama was not afraid, after she knew how Jesus loved us and came to
+die for us."
+
+"Tell me of your mother, and the end."
+
+"She was not afraid," repeated Frederica.  "Miss Agnace was afraid for
+her, and Mr Jerome and Sister Magdalen came often, and told her many
+things she ought to do.  But she was never afraid, after the old man
+told us how `the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all
+sin.'  It is in the Bible, you know, and God taught her, I think God and
+Selina.  And it is for us all--the blood of Jesus--for those who think
+as Miss Agnace does, and you, and all of us.  Selina will tell you.  May
+I bring Selina, Mr St. Cyr?"
+
+"Tell me about your mother," said he.
+
+Frederica told him about how afraid her mother had been, and how she
+longed to know the way to heaven.  And then she told how she had brought
+the old man in from the storm, never thinking what wonderful things he
+was to tell them, and how after that her mother was at rest.  She told
+him how she had grown weaker, so slowly that they could see no change in
+her from day to day, and how calm and peaceful she was through all the
+time.
+
+"Not even the thought of leaving us alone, when we feared papa was
+dying, made her unhappy; for she said, `God will take care of my
+children, against all who would do them harm.'  And so He will," added
+Frederica earnestly; and as she raised her eyes, they fell on the face
+of Mr Jerome, standing in the shadow of the door.  She rose hastily.
+
+"Must you go?  Sit by me for a little while," said her old friend.
+
+The door closed softly, shutting out the priest, as she believed, and
+Frederica sat down at the old man's feet again.
+
+"Does the time seem long, Cousin Cyprien?" asked she.
+
+"It seemed long in passing, but to look back on, it seems like a blank.
+I must get strong again.  Is your father dead too?"
+
+"Papa!  Oh, no!  He was better when we heard last, but it is a long time
+now.  You have not heard that papa is worse?"
+
+"I have heard nothing, and I can do nothing.  Why have you come to-day?
+Is it because of some new unhappiness?  Madame Ascot is with you, I
+hear.  Are you unhappy, my child?"
+
+Frederica paused a moment before she answered.
+
+"Mama is gone, and papa, and sometimes we are afraid.  But I did not
+come because of Madame.  I thought that you had forgotten us, and I came
+to see.  I am not afraid now that you are getting well."
+
+"Ah! we will trust so.  And have you nothing to tell me?--no trouble to
+be helped through?"
+
+"No," said Frederica thoughtfully.  "I will wait till you are quite well
+again, and then I will tell you all.  And will you tell Babette that we
+may come upstairs--Selina and I?  I may bring Selina, may I not?"
+
+"By all means, and I will warn Babette, you may be sure.  Must you go
+how?"
+
+"It is growing dark, I think.  Yes, I must go.  So good night, Cousin
+Cyprien."
+
+"Are you alone?  My child, it is not well for you to be alone in the
+street at this hour."
+
+"It was not dark when I came.  It is only a little way.  I am not
+afraid."
+
+"Well, be sure and come again.  Good night, my child."
+
+"I will see Miss Vane safely home, I have something to say to her," said
+a voice from the darkness.  Frederica with great difficulty suppressed a
+cry as Mr Jerome stepped forward.
+
+"Is it you, my brother?  Ah, well, she need not be in haste, though it
+is growing dark.  You will see her safely home."
+
+But Frederica bent hastily over Mr St. Cyr's hand.
+
+"Good night, Cousin Cyprien.  I do not fear the dark," said she; "but I
+do fear Mr Jerome," added she, in an undertone, as she sprang out of
+the room and down the stairs.  She sped along the street like one
+pursued by an enemy.  But Mr Jerome did not follow her across the
+threshold.  He lingered a moment, looking out after her, and then went
+up through the darkness to his brother's room.
+
+"And so Theresa St. Hubert is gone!" said Mr St. Cyr, as he entered the
+room, which was no longer dark.
+
+"Yes," said his brother; "she is gone, and so is her husband."
+
+"Dead!  His daughter does not know."
+
+"No.  Why tell her sooner than needful?  He, at least, is no loss to his
+children."
+
+"And yet they loved him, and they ought to know."
+
+"They will be told when the right time comes."
+
+"There will be much to do.  There are many documents relating to their
+affairs that must be looked over and arranged, and I have still so
+little strength."
+
+"My strength is yours in their cause;" said Mr Jerome.
+
+"Brother," said Mr St. Cyr, "why did you not tell me of poor Theresa's
+death?"
+
+"Did I not tell you?  Did not Sister Agnace?  You were too ill at that
+time to be told, I suppose.  Or you have forgotten.  Your memory fails
+you at times, I fear, my brother."
+
+"It may be," said Mr St. Cyr, after a moment's thought.  "And yet I
+think I should not have forgotten this."
+
+"There is no time to be lost in the settlement of their affairs, you
+must see," said Jerome.
+
+"No, certainly."
+
+"There must be guardians appointed."
+
+"They are appointed."
+
+"In your illness, having to act for them, I examined such papers
+relating to their affairs as I had access to.  I found none having
+reference to what was to follow the death of their mother.  None entire,
+I mean.  Was there not to be some change? some new choice?  I found some
+torn morsels of paper, a cancelled instrument of some sort.  It is quite
+as well.  The court will be happier in the selection of guardians than
+that unhappy woman was."
+
+"There are guardians appointed!" repeated Mr St. Cyr.
+
+"You have forgotten.  Your illness has impaired your memory.  There was
+to be a change of names.  The former appointment was set aside.  You
+yourself must have had some knowledge of it.  You have forgotten."
+
+Mr St. Cyr looked at his brother with a strange emotion visible in his
+face.
+
+"My brother, you are not glad of my weakness, are you?  Have patience
+with me.  I _am_ weak."
+
+"That is easily seen.  Yes, I will be gentle with you, but I must be
+faithful too: your weakness shall be helped and shielded by my
+strength."
+
+"Yes, but not to-night.  I am tired to-night," said Mr St. Cyr, leaning
+back wearily in his chair.
+
+"You shall not be troubled.  See, I have thought of the men whose names
+are written here, and at an early day I shall see the judges as to their
+legal appointment.  And you shall not be troubled.  If you are not
+satisfied with my suggestions, of course you are at liberty to make what
+change in the names you please."
+
+"But their mother, by my advice, appointed their guardians in the manner
+prescribed by Mr St. Hubert's will; and nothing can supersede that
+appointment, you are aware."
+
+"If any trace of such an instrument is to be found," said Mr Jerome.
+
+"It is to be hoped it is to be found, or it may go badly with some of
+us," said Mr St. Cyr gravely.
+
+"As to that I cannot say.  But the court, under your direction and mine,
+can do all that is necessary, without reference to documents of doubtful
+justice."
+
+"The appointment must stand as it is," said Mr St. Cyr impatiently.
+
+"It is time you were retiring, is it not?  You seem tired.  Shall I help
+you?"
+
+"Thanks, I am not inclined to go yet."
+
+"Still I think you had better go.  I shall speak to Babette, shall I
+not?"
+
+There was no reply; and he left the room.  Listening intently to his
+receding footsteps, Mr St. Cyr rose with difficulty, and holding by the
+furniture, crossed the room to the cabinet in which Frederica, on her
+first visit, had seen so many beautiful and curious things.  From a
+hidden compartment in one of its sides, he drew forth several papers,
+and looked eagerly and attentively over them.  He had only time to
+replace them and return to his seat, before his brother came in again.
+
+"Your fire is bright in yon chamber.  My brother, I entreat you to allow
+me to assist you thither, before I leave.  I cannot divest myself of a
+feeling of responsibility with regard to that foolish young girl
+lingering in the street at this unseemly hour.  I must see that she is
+safe at home.  And I must hasten."
+
+"Thanks," said Mr St. Cyr, rising meekly.  "You are most kind, but pray
+do not stay.  Babette can do all that is necessary for me.  I fancy
+myself better to-night."
+
+"Better," repeated his brother, as he went down the stairs.  "I do not
+see it.  For the present it is not necessary that you should be better.
+I can do your work for you, better than you can do it yourself.  I have
+succeeded beyond hope--unless indeed, by some unimaginable chance, there
+should exist such an instrument as Cyprien asserts.  Even then something
+might be done to put matters right, should I, and not Cyprien, guide
+them.  We shall see."
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
+
+Frederica reached home excited and breathless, and sat down to rest for
+a moment on the steps, before she went in.
+
+"Miss Frederica--Thank God," said old Dixen, coming out of the shadow
+where he had been waiting for the return of his young mistress in great
+anxiety.
+
+"All right, Dixen--only I am so tired, I cannot tell you about it now."
+
+The hall door opened, and Miss Agnace came out.  She, too, was watching,
+it seemed.  Dixen fell back into the shadow again.
+
+"My child, is it you?  Where have you been?  Not at Mrs Brandon's, for
+she has been here.  We have been in such terror for you."
+
+"You need not have been," said Frederica.  "Where is Selina?  No, Miss
+Agnace, I am not going in there, for I am very tired."
+
+She paused a moment at the foot of the stairs, looking up.  A kind,
+half-familiar face looked down on her from above.
+
+"Is it Col. Bentham?" said she, going up slowly.  "And papa has come.
+Oh! papa! papa?"
+
+Was it her father's face she saw?  It was such a face as her father's
+might have been in his youth, a nobler and better face than his had ever
+been to her knowledge, though no such thought came into Frederica's mind
+as she gazed.  And who was this beside him, looking at her with Selina's
+eyes, smiling on her with Selina's smile, and calling her sister?
+Frederica grew pale, and trembled more and more.
+
+"Lena," she faltered.  "Lena, is it that I am going to be ill again? or
+am I dreaming?"
+
+"Fred love," said Selina, putting her arms around her, "it is our elder
+brother Edgar, who has come, and our sister Cecilia, and poor papa--"
+
+But Frederica heard no more, for there was a mist before her eyes, and a
+buzzing in her ears, and by-and-by she found that Miss Agnace was
+bathing her face, and Selina was holding her hand, with a pale anxious
+face.  Then she heard a strange voice say,--
+
+"She must drink this, and go to bed at once and no one is to talk to her
+to-night."  And that was almost the last thing she knew, till she awoke
+next morning with the sunshine on her face.
+
+It was well that the rest of the night came before the excitement of the
+day that awaited her.  For poor Fred had yet to be told that she would
+never see her father on earth again.  Col. Bentham told her first, and
+then her sister Cecilia told her about his last days; and as she
+listened, Frederica's thought was--
+
+"Now he is with mama, and nothing will ever happen to make them grieve
+one another any more."
+
+This thought softened her grief, and made her tears flow gently, as
+Cecilia went on to tell how sorry he had been about some things; and how
+he had longed to return to his children and their mother, when it was no
+longer possible to do so; and how unwillingly he resigned himself to the
+sad necessity at last.
+
+She told them how his restlessness and impatience went away, and a great
+change came over him towards the end.  He longed to live for his
+children's sake, but he ceased to be afraid of death, nay, he welcomed
+the messenger of the King as he drew near.
+
+"Papa must have known all along what mama only learned towards the last,
+that Jesus died to save His people," said Selina.  "Was it that which
+made him not afraid?"
+
+"He learned it in a new way as he lay upon his bed," said Cecilia.  "It
+was that from which he took comfort at the last.  Many a time he said to
+me, he had nothing else in which to trust."
+
+"And, Fred love, we must not grieve too much.  Think how glad mama must
+be to see him there," said Selina.
+
+All this, and more, was told on that first Sunday morning, but Frederica
+was not told that day that they had brought her father's body home.
+Careless as he had in the old days been about all that did not minister
+to his own pleasure, in the time of suffering his heart turned with
+longing unspeakable to those he had left behind, and strange to say, he
+had entreated to be taken back, to be laid by the side of the wife he
+had too often neglected and forgotten.  And so they had brought him
+home.
+
+"And did papa ask you to come and take care of us?  It was very good in
+you to come."
+
+"Col. Bentham came to take care of you, and Edgar is to help him.  My
+husband and I came because we wished so much to see you, and because we
+hoped we might have you home with us for a little while.  But that will
+be decided later."
+
+Frederica had not spoken all this time.  She was afraid if she said a
+word she would break into tears and sobs beyond her power to stay, as
+had happened once or twice before.  But when their brother Edgar came
+in, she gave a cry, and clasped her sister's hand.
+
+"He is so like papa," she uttered faintly.
+
+"Is he?" said Selina.  "I have not seen him yet."
+
+She took her brother's hand, pressing her own small fingers softly and
+rapidly over it, and then over his face and hair.  "Is he like papa?"
+asked she doubtingly.
+
+"Like, and yet not like," said Cecilia, and Frederica said the same.
+But neither of them said that the likeness was of features only, or of
+expression.
+
+"Are you better?" asked he of Frederica.  "Do you know that it was I who
+prescribed for you last night?"
+
+"Are you a physician?" asked she.
+
+"I hope to be one some day.  Indeed, I am one already, in a way.  I am
+going to take you into my special care, till you are the rosy little
+girl we used to hear of long ago."
+
+Frederica shook her head sadly.  "I am quite changed.  I never used to
+know what it was to be tired.  Now I can do nothing, and I am so
+foolish, that the least thing makes me cry.  I am quite ashamed."
+
+"But all that is to be changed now that I am come to take care of you.
+You will soon be well and strong again."
+
+And so they talked on, till they were on friendly and familiar terms
+with each other; and Frederica, reassured and comparatively cheerful,
+was able without undue excitement to make the acquaintance of Cecilia's
+husband, when later he and Col. Bentham came in together.
+
+"Fred love," said Selina, "tell them about Charlie and Hubert."
+
+"Ought I, Selina? must I?  I am afraid everybody will think I have been
+very foolish--perhaps wrong."
+
+"We were alone, and frightened," said Selina.  "And there was no one to
+tell us what we ought to do."
+
+"Of course, if we had known that you were all coming to take care of us,
+it would not have mattered.  We could have waited; but we did not know,"
+said Fred deprecatingly.
+
+And then the story was told, partly by one, and partly by the other, how
+startled they had been when Selina had heard Charlie's voice calling to
+her in the street.  They told of their visit to the school out of which
+the long procession of boys had come, with Madame Precoe and Father
+Jerome, and how the people there had been so polite and kind, and how
+they had put all thoughts of the boys being there out of their minds,
+till Dixen had told them yesterday that he had seen one of them in the
+long procession of boys again going up the street.
+
+"Was it yesterday, Lena?  It seems a long time ago, since Dixen spoke to
+us in the garden."
+
+"And the foolish part of the matter is yet to be told," said her
+brother.
+
+"Then Fred ran away to tell Caroline.  But she did not go there, and I
+only know that she told Dixen it was `all right,'" said Selina.
+
+"It was foolish, I suppose, but then I did not know what else to do."
+
+They listened to the account she gave them of little Hubert's `rescue,'
+with mingled astonishment and amusement, at a loss, when all was told,
+to decide whether Fred had been very brave or very foolish--inclined
+rather to agree with the child himself, that no "rescue" had been
+needed, yet admiring the courage which had accomplished it, and the
+modesty which deprecated blame rather than claimed admiration for what
+she had done.
+
+"I daresay Hubert thinks himself a prisoner now, and that he needs to be
+rescued much more than he did before," said she doubtfully.
+
+"But, indeed, if you knew how anxious and unhappy we had sometimes been
+about some things, you would not call us altogether foolish," said
+Selina.
+
+"And it came so suddenly upon us.  First we heard that Tessie had been
+to the convent, and then Dixen told us he had seen Charlie, and then I
+went away."
+
+"But who has taken the ordering of all these matters?" said Col.
+Bentham.  "Where is the responsibility?  Mr St. Cyr must have known the
+wishes of your father and mother with regard to these children."
+
+"It was not Mr St. Cyr," said Frederica eagerly.  "At least, I don't
+think it was he.  That was worst of all when we thought that he had
+turned against mama's wishes, because he had always been so kind to us
+before.  But last night I went to see him."
+
+"What! more adventures!" said Edgar.  "You went to beard another lion in
+his den?"
+
+"Oh!  I have been there before.  But he has been very ill this winter,
+and they would not let us in.  But last night I did not ask leave.  I
+ran upstairs and into the room where he was sitting."
+
+"And was he glad to see you?" asked Selina eagerly, "and did you tell
+him about Tessie and the boys?"
+
+"No, Lena.  He looked so changed and weak, I could not ask him.  Was I
+very foolish?  But then I am quite sure he knew nothing about them.
+And, Lena, he did not know about mama, though it was so long ago--Mr
+Jerome had not told him."
+
+"And was he very kind still?"
+
+"Very kind, and he asked about papa, and said he hoped he would come
+home soon.  And he asked about mama--and by-and-by I saw that Mr Jerome
+had come in, and then I came home."
+
+"And now it does not matter since you have all come to take care of us,"
+said Selina.
+
+That their coming would put an end to all cause for apprehension in the
+settlement of these children's affairs, did not seem by any means
+certain to those who listened.  However, nothing was said to lessen
+their confidence.  Nothing could be certainly known till Col. Bentham
+should see Mr St. Cyr, and as the arrangements for Mr Vane's burial
+must be made at once, he determined to lose no time in visiting him, and
+Edgar Vane went with him.
+
+The interview was necessarily short, but it made Edgar quite sure that
+Mr St. Cyr knew nothing of the change of arrangements for the children
+after their mother's death.  He spoke as though he supposed the boys to
+be at a distance, and requested Mr Jerome to take the necessary steps
+for bringing them home.  Mr Jerome assented at once, but said very
+little during their stay.
+
+"I wish I could be as sure of his good faith as I am of Mr St. Cyr's,"
+said Edgar, when he spoke to his sisters about it afterward.  "However,
+it signifies little to us, as now he need have little to do with their
+affairs."
+
+"But did he say nothing about the boys being in town when you spoke of
+their coming home?" asked Mrs Brandon.
+
+"Nothing--and we said nothing to him.  But I cannot help wondering what
+he will say, when little Hubert shall not be forthcoming to-morrow."
+
+"I confess I should like to see that man put to confusion, if such a
+thing were possible," said Mrs Brandon.
+
+"Which is doubtful," said her husband.
+
+"Still, he will have to account for his non-appearance in some way,
+which will be rather difficult, I imagine," said Edgar.
+
+But Mr Jerome was not destined to be put to confusion by the
+non-appearance of little Hubert; for, as they were speaking, he walked
+in among them.
+
+"You did not come for me, Fred, as you promised.  And I thought your old
+woman had had enough of me, and so I came away," said he.
+
+Mr Jerome had no account to render to any of them.  Whatever he said on
+the subject was said to Mr St. Cyr, not that he considered it necessary
+to give an account of his actions even to him.  He was accountable only
+to a tribunal, which would acquit him of all wrong-doing in the matter.
+He uttered some angry and bitter words, because of his brother's
+weakness and folly, where poor Mrs Vane and her children were
+concerned.  The children were, in his opinion, in a fair way to be
+ruined.  The only hope for them, both for this world and the next, lay
+in the proper choice of guardians.
+
+"And for you to tell Colonel Bentham, even before he alluded to the
+subject, that he was one of the three persons charged with the
+responsibility of their future welfare was monstrous.  If any instrument
+appointing him to this office exists, you should never let it see the
+light.  I do not believe it exists.  It is one of the many dreams of
+your illness.  Why did you not produce it to-day, if it is here?"
+
+"It will be produced at the right time.  I scarcely think you know what
+you are counselling, my brother," said Mr St. Cyr, gravely.  "I could
+not, without committing a villainy, do as you bid me do in this."
+
+"I will take the responsibility.  You are not capable of deciding such a
+question.  Your illness has weakened your mind, as well as your body.
+You will be wise to let yourself be guided by me!"
+
+"You forget we did not agree about this thing before my illness.  I am
+weak, I know, but I am not weak enough for your purpose.  And my
+yielding would avail nothing.  The business is known to others, as well
+as to me."
+
+Mr Jerome gave him an evil look.  Mr St. Cyr was much weakened by his
+illness, and a terrible thought, that he was not safe in his brother's
+hands, came into his mind, and showed in his face.
+
+"The business is now in other hands," said he feebly.
+
+"I do not believe you," said Jerome, restraining himself with a great
+effort.  The look of terror in his brother's face shocked him.  The
+tacit accusation was an awful one, but that it was not altogether
+unjust, he could not but acknowledge.  For in his heart at that moment
+he was saying, "If Cyprien had died, all might have been made to go
+well."
+
+"A further discussion of this subject can do no good now.  But I warn
+you that whatever can be done to save these children and their wealth to
+the Church shall be done.  It is not I who say it.  A power which it is
+impossible to defeat or circumvent, stands pledged for a successful
+issue.  It will be wise for you to yield before a heavy hand is laid
+upon you."
+
+"An idle threat," said Mr St. Cyr.
+
+"No threat, my brother.  That power, as you know, never yields.  Its
+triumph is certain.  It may come to-morrow, or ten years hence, or
+twenty, but ultimate triumph is certain."
+
+"An idle threat," repeated Mr St. Cyr.
+
+And probably it was only a threat.  If anything was done to bring into
+the life and destiny of these children the change which Father Jerome so
+earnestly desired, it was done in secret, and it failed.  If the
+"power," with whose heavy hand he had been threatened ever touched him
+to his hurt, Mr St. Cyr never complained of it, or revealed it.
+Certainly he never yielded to it, in the matter of the trust which Mrs
+Vane had given him.
+
+With more promptness and decision than he might have considered
+necessary had he been in perfect health, or had the circumstances been
+different, he transferred to the guardians whom the mother had appointed
+for her children, all the responsibility which their acceptance of the
+office involved.  The responsibility was not a light one, but it was
+assumed cheerfully and faithfully, and successfully borne; and as yet no
+harm has come, either from Father Jerome, or from the power he serves,
+to Mrs Vane's children.
+
+But all this took time, and of the details they who were most interested
+in the matter knew nothing, and thought nothing, except that it was a
+happy thing for them that to Colonel Bentham, and not to Father Jerome,
+the arrangement of their affairs had been committed.
+
+Tessie came home from the convent none the worse for her fortnight's
+seclusion.  For a little while his sisters found that the same thing
+could not be said of Charlie.  Poor Charlie had rebelled, and had been
+hardly dealt with, though he said little about it for a time.  Into his
+eyes came now and then the look, half-deprecating, half-defiant, which
+they have who are only learning to yield obedience to the government of
+a strong hand and will, which no love softens.
+
+He had gone into the strange uncongenial world of the great school, with
+his heart sore with the thought of his mother's death, and angry with
+the suspicion that he who had brought them there had done so less for
+their good than for his own pleasure; and, child though he was, he
+suffered terribly.  Grief, and home sickness, and disgust at many things
+which now became part of his daily experience, made him irritable and
+rebellious, and would have made him difficult to manage anywhere else.
+There the "strong hand" touched him, and a few months longer of the
+discipline he underwent would doubtless, in all things, have moulded him
+to the will of those who taught and governed him.  As it was, those at
+home believed that he had come back to them none too soon for his good.
+
+As for Tessie, though she indignantly resented having been taken away
+without her own consent, she had nothing to complain of with regard to
+the treatment she had received.  Indeed, she had been flattered and made
+much of by all with whom she had come in contact, and doubtless would,
+in time, have yielded with passable grace to the necessity of
+submission, and contented herself with her circumstances.  But she was
+glad enough to find herself at home again, and to make the acquaintance
+of their elder brother and sister, whose coming was as joyful an event
+to her, and as unexpected as it had been to them all.
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN.
+
+The brothers followed their father to the grave, and the sisters sat at
+home waiting, as they had done when their mother was carried away.  But
+this time Cecilia was with them, and that made a wonderful difference.
+She read with them the beautiful burial service of their Church, and
+comforted them sweetly with words which were not her own, showing them
+how they, being fatherless and motherless, could claim in a new way the
+love and care of their Father in Heaven, because of His promise to the
+orphan.  There was no room for fear, or even for doubt, in their future,
+she told them, because of this; and it was the easier for them to
+believe it, and rejoice in it; coming from her loving lips.
+
+Before they saw the graves of their father and mother, they were
+beautiful with soft green turf and the fairest of spring flowers.
+
+They all went there together, on one of the loveliest and last of the
+April days; and though their tears fell fast for a little while, there
+was no bitterness in them; and the elder brother and sisters, sitting a
+little apart, saw smiles on their faces before their tears were dry.
+
+"It is all past for them," said Frederica; "the troubles of their life,
+I mean.  And now mama is as strong and well as the other happy people up
+there, and not anxious or afraid any more."
+
+"And papa is satisfied, and does not mind things now, I suppose," said
+Tessie.  "For my part, I cannot think what heaven is like."
+
+"Jesus is there, we know," said Selina, "and that is enough."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so.  But still mama must have been glad to see papa
+coming in through the gate.  But, as Tessie says, we cannot tell what
+heaven is like, or how it seems to them there."
+
+"Jesus is there," repeated Selina, "and they are like Him.  `And there
+shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying;' and they shall go
+no more out.  We know a little, Tessie dear, I think."
+
+"But I cannot think of mama being quite happy without you, Lena.  And
+has she forgotten us all, do you think?"
+
+"She knows that I shall be coming by-and-by," said Selina, with a smile,
+wonderful for its sweet content.  "Yes, and all of us--`to go no more
+out.'  She will not think the time long, we may be sure of that.  And I
+shall _see her face there_?"
+
+"If mama could have known about Cecilia and Edgar, and how good they
+would be to us, before she went away."
+
+"Papa knew," said Tessie, "and he will tell her."
+
+"And, Fred love, mama was not afraid for us at the last," said Selina.
+"She did not know that they would care for us and love us, but she knew
+that Jesus would; and I daresay He has told her about our brother and
+sister also."
+
+"And we needn't fret about Madame Precoe or Father Jerome any more,"
+said Tessie.
+
+"No; but we will not speak of them _here_," said Selina gently; "and we
+need not be afraid of anything any more."
+
+By-and-by there was a little movement among them, and then the others
+heard Selina say,--
+
+"Tell me about it, so that I may know the place where they lie."
+
+So one told her one thing, and one told her another, about the lonely
+spot where the two graves were side by side.  Tessie told of the green
+turf and the lovely flowers that covered them, and of the budding trees,
+and the dark shadows which the evergreens made, and the many, many
+graves and white monuments that could be seen.  And then Frederica told
+her of the far-away view, of the great level over which they could look
+to the river and the hills beyond.  And they both said how peaceful the
+place was, and how fair and sweet, till Selina smiled, saying,--"_I_
+think I can see it all now."
+
+"And, please God, she shall see it yet as clearly as it lies before us
+all," said Edgar softly.
+
+"Do you mean it, Edgar?  Can such a thing be possible?" said Mrs
+Brandon in amaze.
+
+"Please God, she may yet see," said the young man gravely.
+
+"Ah I do not disturb the sweet quiet of her heart by a hope that may
+never be realised," said Cecilia.
+
+"By no means at present," said her brother; "there is no need for that."
+
+"It would be a miracle," said Mrs Brandon.
+
+"A miracle of science and skill," said Edgar.  "We will not speak of
+this to her, or to any of them, yet; but I cannot but hope that she may
+see, even before she enters the city by the gates of pearl."
+
+After that they had a very quiet summer.  Madame Precoe went home to her
+own house, and they did not see her very often.  But Miss Agnace was
+allowed still to remain with them, and the affairs of the household went
+well and smoothly in her hands.  Mr Jerome they never saw, for he had
+been sent on a mission to a distant city, and they only heard of him now
+and then through Mr St. Cyr; but they were none the less happy that he
+was away.
+
+Mr St. Cyr did not grow strong very fast.  It was, indeed, doubtful
+whether he would ever be very strong again; and so all through the
+summer he was making arrangements to give up his business for a while
+into the hands of his partner, and he purposed to take a long holiday,
+to go to Paris, where he had not been since he was a young man, and
+perhaps to Rome, where he had never been.  But he found time, amid all
+his preparations, to come often to see the young people; for he still
+considered himself their guardian, and in a certain sense responsible
+for their well-being.  And besides, he loved them dearly, and they
+trusted him, and depended on him as they had always done, and loved him
+better every day.
+
+Edgar and young Mr Bentham, Cecilia's husband, had much to do, and many
+places to visit, before the time set for their return to England, and
+sometimes Cecilia went with them.  But it generally pleased her best to
+stay quietly at home with her young sisters, and it pleased them also.
+
+It was a very quiet summer, but it was a very busy one.  For it had been
+decided that when their elder brother and sister went back to England,
+they should all go with them; and there was much to be thought of, and
+much to be done, in preparation.  To say that they were glad at the
+prospect, would be saying little.  To go anywhere with the brother and
+sister who had been so kind to them, and whom they had learned to love
+so dearly, would have been pleasant; but to go to England, the country
+of which they had heard so much, where there were so many wonderful and
+beautiful things to see, was more than pleasant.
+
+"And papa's home was there, and it was the last place he saw," said
+Selina, who had no hope of beholding the beautiful and wonderful things
+of which her brother and Tessie were never weary of talking.  "And the
+kind people who cared for him are there.  Yes, I am glad to go."
+
+"And we shall come home again.  I am glad to go away for a while,
+because there are some things here I want to forget," said Frederica, a
+little tremulously.  "But we must come home again by-and-by, and begin
+all over again."
+
+"Unless we should like England best," said Tessie.  "I should not be at
+all surprised."
+
+But Frederica said that would be quite impossible.  When their brothers
+should be quite grown up, and able to take care of themselves, they
+would all come back and be happy at home.  They made many plans as to
+what they were to do and enjoy, but Frederica's plans all had reference
+to their return home, and the life they were to live afterwards.  She
+was as glad to go as any of them, but it was always with thought of
+coming home again.
+
+They had not many friends to whom it was sad to say good-bye.  Mr St.
+Cyr was going with them, on his way to Paris.  Miss Agnace was going
+with them too, to be Selina's special attendant and friend.  For though
+little was said about it, it was more for Selina's sake than for
+anything else that they were going to England.  Edgar had taken Mr St.
+Cyr into his confidence as to the hope he entertained of bringing back
+the light, to her sweet eyes, and so all plans with regard to their
+going were made easy by him.
+
+They went to school to say good-bye to Miss Robina and her mother, and
+Cecilia went with them to thank them for all their kindness to her
+little sisters.  But this was not Frederica's last visit.  She went
+again with Selina, and Mistress Campbell made tea for them in her room,
+as she used to do when Frederica was a child.  It was not so very long
+ago, but it seemed a great while to her, and she was very quiet and
+grave all the afternoon.  Selina had more to say than she had, and asked
+many questions about what her sister used to do when she was a pupil in
+the school.
+
+"A bonny bit wilful creature she was," said Mistress Campbell, "very
+wilful whiles.  But it was just a pleasure to see her for all that.
+Many a good advice I had occasion to give her at one time and another,
+but she did me more good than ever I did to her, I think.  She is one of
+His little lambs, as you are yourself doubtless, and none shall pluck
+you out of His hand.  You are ay safe with Him, but still it is a grand
+thing to have a brother and sister like those you have found to trust
+to, and to be obedient to.  You'll ay mind that, Miss Frederica, my
+dear, when you are far away."
+
+"I shall never be wilful or disobedient any more, Mistress Campbell,"
+said Fred gravely, quite believing it.
+
+Mistress Campbell nodded her head a good many times.
+
+"You are in God's keeping, my bairn.  That's ay a comfort.  But walk
+softly, my lammie, when your light heart comes back again.  And mind the
+rest will ay look to you for an example, and so on."  Mistress Campbell
+had "many an advice" to give still, and Frederica received them more
+meekly than she used sometimes to do in the old times.
+
+"And though I never see you more on earth, we'll meet in a better place,
+my bonny bairns, and God go with you wherever you go," said the old
+woman, kissing them when they were ready to go away.  "And there is
+nothing to grieve about, though it is the last time."
+
+Nothing to grieve about.  It could not be long that the kind old woman
+would have to stay in her garret, and there were no partings where she
+was going to dwell.
+
+After that they spent a day with their sister Caroline and her little
+children, and this was the saddest parting of all.  But even this was
+not so very sad, for they were coming back again by-and-by to their home
+and their friends, and the graves of their father and mother, and there
+was no bitterness in the tears they shed when the day of departure came.
+
+The summer was quite over by that time.  The sun of a bright still
+autumn day was near its setting as they stood on the deck of the steamer
+to take their last look of the city, and of the mountain which makes so
+grand a background to the view.  Grand indeed it was that night, for the
+frost spirit had breathed on the unfallen leaves, and changed their
+summer green to colours wonderful for glory and beauty, and few words
+were spoken for a good while as they gazed.
+
+"Tell me about it," said Selina softly.
+
+So one told her about the bright clouds in the west, and the mountain
+growing dim already in the distance, and another told of the gleaming
+city roofs and spires; and the great cathedral towers looking down upon
+them all, and little Hubert told her of the long shaft of light that the
+sun sent over the water, and of the white sails that were passing out of
+sight.
+
+"Which of us all is so happy as she?" said Cecilia softly, as she
+watched the smile of sweet content on the blind girl's listening face.
+
+"But please God, when she comes home again, she shall see it all," said
+her brother.  And so she did.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY.
+
+Cecilia's home was in London, and there until Christmas-time her
+brothers and sisters remained.  It was not the best season of the year
+for sight-seeing, but by taking advantage of such gleams of sunshine as
+now and then came to brighten the general dulness, a good deal was
+enjoyed even in that way.  Nothing came amiss in the way of amusement to
+any of them.  Everything was new and full of interest, and in their eyes
+wonderful.  A drive through London streets gave matter for discussion
+for days afterwards.
+
+It was all new and strange to them, the crowds of people hurrying to and
+fro, the great dingy houses, the queer narrow courts into which they
+sometimes peeped, the splendour of the shop windows, the monuments and
+public buildings afforded never-ending themes for talk, and the bright
+quaint remarks which were now and then made, amused their elders
+greatly.
+
+But there were many dull days during that autumn, when all things were
+seen dimly through rain or fog, and there were some days when nothing at
+all could be seen, when the gas burned at noon, and when the carts and
+carriages that rumbled through the streets all day long, were quite
+invisible to the eager eyes of the little boys.  On such days, no wonder
+that they grew impatient and even fretful, now and then, or that their
+sisters were not always so bright and cheerful themselves, as to be able
+to beguile their brothers back to cheerfulness and good-humour again.
+They were all a little homesick on such days; and so, when the time came
+to accept Col. Bentham's invitation for Christmas, they were glad to
+leave the dull dark streets behind them, and to get a glimpse of blue
+sky and green fields again.
+
+For in sheltered places the fields were green still, almost with the
+greenness of summer.  In their own country at Christmas-time the snow
+lies thick on the ground, and the smaller streams, and sometimes even
+the great rivers, are covered with ice.  Not a leaf is to be seen or a
+blade of grass, but great snowdrifts on the hill-sides, and icicles
+hanging from the bare boughs of the trees.
+
+The skaters are out on the ice, and the snow-shoe clubs are beginning to
+think of long tramps over the fields.  Hundreds of sleighs are gliding
+along the city streets, and over the country roads, and the air is full
+of the music of sleigh-bells, and the merry voices of people enjoying
+the holidays.
+
+And Jack and Jill used to be out with the rest, with a sleighful of
+happy children behind them.  The children's faces grew grave as they
+told one another of all this.  How bright it used to be!  How
+delightful!  Oh, yes!  Of course it was cold sometimes, but who would
+mind the cold, with furs and wraps, great buffalo robes, and bearskins
+to keep them warm!
+
+No, it did not seem like Christmas-time to them here.  In some of the
+sunny glades of Eastwood Park, the little Canadians could have forgotten
+that it was not summer, except when they looked up at the great leafless
+oaks and elms and beeches, which made a wide dark network of boughs
+between them and the sky.  There were no flowers in the open park, but
+the grass was green, and there was ivy on the wall, and there were great
+holly bushes and laurels, and in Grandmamma Bentham's garden, shut in
+from the winds, and having the sunshine full upon it, there were
+heartsease and Christmas roses.  It was all very different, out of
+doors, from Christmas time at home.  But within doors it was like the
+best of Christmas-times.
+
+There was a large party assembled at Eastwood Park--sons and daughters
+of Col. Bentham, grandchildren, nephews and nieces, and friends of the
+family.  Their brother Edgar was there for a few days, and his friend
+Captain Clare.  Everard Bentham, the Colonel's youngest son, was Edgar's
+dear friend, though they were not at all alike in most respects.
+Everard was gay and inclined to be idle, and had caused his father some
+anxiety during the last year or two.  But of all this nothing was known
+to the young Vanes.  He was very kind to them, very merry and
+light-hearted, and they liked him dearly--almost as well as they liked
+Captain Clare, who was a very different sort of man.
+
+He was older than their other friend, though not so much older as they
+fancied, because his hair was a little grey, and he was often grave and
+silent when there were others besides the children present.  He was a
+soldier, and had been in battle many times, and had the Victoria cross
+and medals to show that he had done his duty on the field.  He had other
+tokens as well.  There was a faintly traced scar extending along his
+temple, which his hair only partially concealed, and he always wore a
+glove on his left hand to hide the traces of another wound.
+
+He had much to tell the little lads about many things.  He had been in
+their own country, had spent a winter in their own city.  He had known
+their father and their mother, and remembered Jack and Jill, and never
+tired listening to all they had to tell about them, and this was one
+secret of his popularity doubtless.
+
+The sisters liked him also, for similar reasons, and for better reasons.
+For he was a true soldier of Christ, as well as of the Queen, and had
+fought and won battles for Him in his day, and the very first words that
+he spoke to them, as he came upon them one day in old Mrs Bentham's
+garden, made Selina and Frederica glad in the hope of having him for
+their friend.
+
+All who came to Eastwood Park were interested in these children and very
+kind to them.  They were kind, and they were a little curious also--that
+is, they watched with interest, and sometimes with amusement, the words
+and ways of these young Canadians, who were not in all respects just
+like English children.  I speak of them all as children, for with all
+their womanliness and decision of manner, the sisters were in some
+respects quite as childlike as were little Hubert and Charlie.  Selina
+was like no one else in her never-failing sweetness and cheerfulness.
+Tessie's frankness and independence of speech might, under the
+encouragement of amused listeners, have fallen into undesirable
+freeness, had it not been for the gentle check of her eldest sister's
+influence.  She rebelled sometimes under Fred's rather imperative hints
+as to what was desirable and right or otherwise, but Selina's lightest
+half-spoken remonstrance never passed unheeded.
+
+It was the same with the little lads.  It was Frederica who assumed
+authority over them; and her little motherly ways and words, at once
+coaxing and determined, generally answered well with them.  They were
+obedient and teachable usually; but they now and then appealed from her
+rather arbitrary rule to the gentler rule of Selina; and the way in
+which she used to soften and modify her sister's decisions, while she
+gravely and firmly upheld her sister's authority with their brothers,
+was a pretty thing to see.  Frederica was careful and troubled over them
+and their future often; Selina was trustful and cheerful always, and not
+afraid.
+
+Everybody was kind to them, and much was done to make their Christmas,
+not only a merry one, but a happy one.  Everybody was kind to them; but,
+after Cecilia and her husband and their brother Edgar, they liked no one
+so well as Captain Clare.  A good many people went away when the
+holidays ended, but Captain Clare stayed on, and so did Everard Bentham.
+Everard had been thrown from his horse, and so seriously hurt, that,
+much against his will, he was obliged to remain at home several weeks
+longer than it had been his intention to stay.  He made the best of it,
+and amused himself as well as he could, and by-and-by got "great fun,"
+as he called it, out of the little Canadians.  But he gave them quite as
+much as he got from them in the way of amusement; for he was kind as
+well as merry.  In the way of real and lasting benefit, his intercourse
+with these young people did much to change his character, and influence
+his future life; but all this came later.
+
+In the meantime Captain Clare was their dearest friend after their
+brother Edgar went away; and it was in this way that their friendship
+began: They were sitting--Selina and Frederica--one day in old Mrs
+Bentham's garden, where the sunshine made it, to Selina at least, just
+like a summer day.  Frederica had been reading a word or two, as her
+sister liked to have her do when they were alone together; and to-day it
+had been the first verses of the twelfth of Hebrews that she had chosen.
+They had not gone beyond the first two or three verses; there was
+enough in them to talk and wonder over.
+
+"Perhaps it means this, Fred," said Selina, after a minute's silence;
+"these people, `so great a cloud of witnesses'--the people in the last
+chapter, you know--are all looking at us, and so we must `run with
+patience the race set before us.'  Or is it that all these people looked
+to Jesus, and so got strength and patience to `subdue kingdoms,' to
+`stop the mouths of lions'?  Don't you remember?  They were `destitute,
+afflicted, tormented,--of whom the world was not worthy.'  Oh!  Fred
+dear, how little we know!"
+
+But it was not Fred that answered her, but Captain Clare.  Fred had gone
+down the garden path, not caring less than her sister for the reading,
+or for the meaning of what they read, but less intent upon it for the
+moment, because she could see so much that was beautiful around her.
+For even in winter Grandmamma Bentham's garden was beautiful, and not
+every visitor at Eastwood Park was admitted to it.  But when Captain
+Clare took up the book which Frederica had laid down, and reading over
+again the words Selina had found so difficult, added afterwards a few
+words of his own, she came back again, and leaned on the garden chair on
+which her sister sat.
+
+It was nothing very new or very wonderful that he said to them.  He only
+told them in a few clear words what he thought the apostle meant in
+writing thus to the suffering Hebrews, touching incidentally on other
+points of interest in other parts of the Bible, over which the sisters
+had pondered together with varying interest and profit.  Selina listened
+eagerly, only saying now and then with smiling lips, "Do you hear,
+Frederica?"
+
+"Are you listening, dear Fred?"
+
+Fred was listening, forgetting the holly leaves and the bright berries
+with which she had filled her apron to make wreaths for some young
+friends in the house.  She listened silently.  She had less to say on
+all subjects than she used to have in the old days, before care had been
+laid so heavily upon her.  But she listened earnestly, for she knew that
+all would have to be gone over again with her sister when they were
+alone.  They listened till Miss Agnace came to warn them that the sun
+had gone behind the clouds, and that they must return to the house.
+
+"But you will tell us more," said Selina, softly passing her fingers
+over the hand that had taken hers in saying good-bye.  "Another day you
+will tell us more."
+
+It was an easy promise to make, and a pleasant promise to keep.
+
+"We know so little," said Frederica, as, with Captain Clare, she
+followed her sister and Miss Agnace up the avenue to the other side of
+the house.  "We had no one to teach us, and at first we did not care to
+learn," added she humbly.  "It was for mama's sake at first--because--
+she was going to die--and--she was afraid--" and the tears rushed to her
+eyes.
+
+She hardly ever spoke of her mother to any one but her sisters, and she
+wondered a little at herself that she should do so now.  She wondered
+less when she looked up and met the kind eyes looking down upon her.
+
+"Some day you must tell me more about your mother," said Captain Clare.
+
+This was the beginning.  After that, while they were at Eastwood, not a
+day passed in which Captain Clare did not pass an hour with them.  When
+the weather did not allow them to go out of doors, they sat in the
+library or in one of the deep windows of the hall.  The party was
+variable as to numbers; but Selina was always there, and almost always
+Miss Agnace.  She was never far away from her charge, unless her sisters
+were with her; and although she would sit with her face averted,
+apparently absorbed with her work, she never lost a word which Captain
+Clare said about the truth which she was beginning to love, though she
+hardly knew it yet.  She was never in the way, and because of Selina's
+blindness it did not seem out of place that she should be constantly
+with her.  Besides, her service was a service of love.
+
+She did not listen now as she had done at first to the reading and the
+talk, that she might detect errors, and warn these children against
+them.  She said little to them now of the "true Church," or its
+teachings.  She only listened, saying to herself, that however at
+variance with these teachings some things which she heard might seem to
+be, there could not be any real difference, seeing the same fruits of
+the Spirit--love, peace, joy--which flourished and showed in the life of
+many a saint of old, showed fair and sweet in the lives of these
+children growing so dear to her.  So she always listened when she could,
+and Selina made it easy for her to be near her at such times.
+
+Cecilia was with them often, and Edgar, but most of their intercourse
+with Captain Clare as a near friend and teacher took place after Edgar
+went away.  Mr Everard Bentham, when he began to limp about the house
+again after his hurt, found his time pass more rapidly among these young
+people, who asked questions, and discussed subjects as little likely to
+interest young people as could well be imagined, he thought.  It seemed
+to him the oddest fancy in the world that kept these girls intent on
+Captain Clare's words, as he made clear to them how the Old Testament
+and the New were one, how the truths dimly foretold in the one found
+fulfilment in the other, and showed how in all things written in both
+Christ appeared.  What could it matter to them to be wise about such
+things? he questioned laughing.  But he never laughed at them.  It might
+be odd and foolish, but at the same time he liked to see it all; and
+though he listened for a while, that he might catch the wonderful
+brightness on the blind girl's face, as some new thought was made clear
+to her; and though he asked questions in his turn, that he might provoke
+Frederica's eager defence of her opinions and beliefs, the Word did not
+"return void," as far as he was concerned.  Now and then a bow drawn at
+a venture sent an arrow home to his conscience, and none of them had
+better reason to remember those days than the hitherto careless Everard
+Bentham.
+
+Sometimes the little lads heard tales of marches and battles, of
+suffering bravely borne, of good work well done for the sake of duty.
+But rarely a day passed in which there did not fall to the share of the
+sisters some good word about the Lord they loved, and about whom they
+longed to know more.  These children knew already that Christ was the
+only Saviour from sin, and from its consequences,--the Friend of
+sinners--the Conqueror of death.  They knew and they rejoiced in all
+that He had done for them and for all, and in all that He had promised
+still to do.  They knew what they owed Him, but they knew less of what
+He expected from them.  They loved Him, and for His sake they loved His
+friends and followers.  But they had never been taught the duty of
+self-denial for His sake, the blessedness of a life given up to Him in
+the doing of service to His little ones.
+
+Of all this Captain Clare told them, and they were apt scholars.
+Frederica displayed something like her old bright eagerness in
+explaining some of the plans of usefulness which her imagination
+suggested as wise and possible to be carried out in the future.  Some
+foolish things might have been done, if they had been left to their own
+counsels.  But it did not need severity, nor even great firmness, to
+check Frederica now.  She was not unwilling to acknowledge that they
+were yet too young and inexperienced to undertake on their own
+responsibility any of the schemes of usefulness so well carried out for
+the benefit of the ignorant and the suffering by others who were wiser
+and fitter for the work than they.
+
+All this might come later.  In the meantime Frederica had her brothers
+and sisters to live for and to influence.  She had her own education to
+complete.  She laughed now at the remembrance of the time when she had
+boasted of having "gone through all the books" in Miss Robina's class.
+There was enough to do for herself, as well as for the others, she
+acknowledged; and she listened earnestly when Colonel Bentham, as her
+guardian, spoke to her of the serious responsibilities which the
+possession of wealth would involve in her case, and that of them all.
+
+In the meantime she and Selina had much to say between themselves of all
+they meant to do when they should go home.  Selina's wish was to gather
+together all the blind people who were poor, and who needed a home--the
+old people and little children--and teach them about Jesus, and about
+the land where all shall see His face.  In this work her sister was to
+help her, and Miss Agnace.  In all her plans for the future Miss Agnace
+had a place.
+
+In her heart Miss Agnace knew that in such a home as these young girls
+were planning she would be suffered to have no part, unless, indeed,
+Father Jerome, or others who thought as he did, should have the guidance
+of it all.  But she did faithfully her duty to her blind friend and
+mistress, loving her more dearly every day, content with the present,
+and willing to accept without question whatever the future might bring.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
+
+After Christmas the boys went to school--to the great public school
+where their father and their elder brother had been educated, and a
+great quietness fell on the sisters after they went away.  It was their
+first separation since the day their father had been, laid beside their
+mother on the hillside far away, and they missed them sadly for awhile.
+They all missed them, but Frederica especially felt lost without the
+constant sense of responsibility which had rested on her with regard to
+them since that day.  It was well that they still lingered in beautiful
+Eastwood.  Cecilia did not like to think of how dull the days would have
+been in London at this time.  But every one in the large and happy
+household of Colonel Bentham strove more than ever to interest and amuse
+them, so as to beguile them from regretful thoughts; and when there came
+first one letter and then another from the little lads, showing that
+they were falling more easily and happily than could have been supposed
+into their right places, and taking the good of the pleasant things in
+school, even Frederica became content about them, and confessed that it
+was a relief to know that they were safe and well, and to let the sense
+of responsibility slip from her for a time.
+
+But a greater trial was before her than the parting from their brothers.
+By-and-by they returned to London, and she and Tessie were soon as
+earnestly engaged with lessons and masters as could be desired.  It was
+partly from a sense of duty, and from a desire to make the most of the
+exceptional advantages afforded them, that they worked so well, but they
+also enjoyed their work.  It was made pleasant to them, and they were
+not allowed to do too much.  Walks and drives, visits and sight-seeing
+prevented their work from becoming monotonous, or from injuring them in
+any way, and the time to them passed quickly.
+
+But Selina drooped.  She missed her brothers, and though she shared
+Frederica's reading as far as was possible, and enjoyed the sight-seeing
+at second-hand, still she was not so bright and cheerful as usual; and
+strange to say, Frederica was not the first to see it Selina's best time
+was when they were all together, so that this was not surprising; but
+Cecilia became anxious about her, and longed for the time when their
+brother Edgar should be at home again.
+
+He came at Easter, and in a day or two declared himself at liberty to do
+as he pleased for three months at least.  After that he was to settle
+down to the practice of his profession in another part of London, and
+then there would be no more leisure days for him.
+
+"And you are going to make the most of these three months," said Tessie,
+"and have a great deal of pleasure."
+
+"I hope so," said Edgar, but he looked more grave than people usually do
+who are anticipating three months of pleasure; and when Tessie went on
+to suggest, that instead of going away by himself, as he had proposed,
+he should take them all with him, he looked grave still, and said that
+would be impossible.  He could not take them all at this time, but it
+was his intention to take Selina away for a little while.  They all
+looked grave at that, and there came a look over Frederica's face which
+neither he nor Cecilia had ever seen before, but which made Tessie think
+of the rule of Madame Ascot, and the days when Fred took her own way in
+spite of her.  It would not be right, Edgar went on to say, to interrupt
+the studies of the others so happily and successfully commenced, for
+though their company might be agreeable to Selina, it was not necessary
+to her, as he would care for her, and Miss Agnace was to go with her.
+
+Frederica uttered an impatient exclamation.  "Studies!  In comparison
+with Selina's happiness her studies and masters counted for nothing.
+Selina must come first always.  They had never been separated since--
+since--" Fred could get no further.  It was only by a great effort that
+she kept back her tears.  And her brother said gently,--
+
+"But if it were to be for Selina's good that she should go away for a
+little while, and that you should remain at home, surely you would be
+willing to deny yourself?  At this time it is better for our sister to
+be in my care, and in the care of Miss Agnace."
+
+"That is because you do not know," broke in Frederica.  "Ask Selina.
+Let her decide."
+
+"No, we will not ask Selina this time.  Of course it will be a trial for
+her to leave you both; but still it is best."
+
+"And, Fred darling, you will not make the trial harder for her by
+objecting," said Cecilia.  "Believe me, dear, Edgar is right.  You must
+trust him."
+
+"Edgar does not know," persisted Frederica.  "Selina cannot go alone.
+It would break her heart.  Selina alone! without me or mama--"
+
+Frederica was determined she would not cry, and she stopped suddenly.
+Edgar was very gentle with her, but he was very firm also, and when he
+forbade her or Tessie alluding to the subject in Selina's presence till
+he should give them leave, Frederica rose and walked out of the room,
+carrying her head very highland with a look on her face that made
+Cecilia regard her brother anxiously as the door closed upon her.  Edgar
+smiled reassuringly.  He was surprised, but he was amused also, Tessie
+could see as she rose to follow her sister.  He looked grave enough in a
+moment.
+
+The case stood thus.  Selina was not looking well, and the change was
+necessary for her, but that was not all.  It was of the utmost
+importance that she should be strong and cheerful just now, because the
+time had come when her brother hoped to get the opinion of a friend of
+his, a celebrated oculist who resided in a German city, as to the state
+of her eyes, and the possibility of something being done to restore to
+her some measure of sight.  The prospect of success was not so assured
+as to make it wise to say anything about his plans and wishes to his
+sisters.  The suspense would not be good for them, and the trial of
+remaining behind would be all the greater to Frederica, should she be
+made aware that her sister might have doubt and anxiety, and perhaps
+pain and disappointment, to undergo alone.  Her being with her sister at
+such a time would not be good for either of them, he thought; and should
+his brotherly influence fail, her guardian's authority must be exercised
+over Frederica.
+
+"But Colonel Bentham's authority will not be needed.  Fred will think
+better of it; and be reasonable."
+
+But Cecilia was not so sure.  "You give her no reasons," said she.  And
+then she went on to repeat some instances of Frederica's wilfulness in
+the old days, of which their sister Caroline had told her, how she used
+to rule the household, and set Madame Ascot at defiance.  Some of these
+it was not easy to believe, in view of Frederica's almost uniform
+gentleness and sweetness since they had known her, but they were
+doubtless quite true; and remembering her face and air as she walked out
+of the room, some trouble with her seemed not impossible.
+
+"But all the same she must yield," said her brother.
+
+But it was not the wilful little Fred of the old days that had walked
+out of the room with her head held high and haughtily.  She was as angry
+and indignant as ever the Fred of those days could have been, so angry
+that she utterly forgot for the moment how dear was the love that had
+grown up during the last year between her and her brother, or how
+perfect the confidence she had had in his affection and wisdom until
+now.  She was so angry that she would not let the tears come even when
+she was alone; and when Tessie ran in upon her, exclaiming indignantly
+about their brother's unkindness, Frederica sat with a face that changed
+from red to white and from white to red every moment, but she did not
+utter a word.  As she listened to her sister, she grew less angry and
+more unhappy, for there was an echo of triumph mingling with Tessie's
+indignation, that smote painfully on Frederica's heart.
+
+"I have been wondering for a long time when all this was to come to an
+end--your `docility and humility,' your `sweet bright gentleness,' as
+your friend Captain Clare calls it.  Oh, yes, I have been expecting it.
+It is all very well within reasonable limits, obedience and submission,
+and all that; but Edgar has not a particle of authority over us, and you
+can wind Colonel Bentham round your finger, as you used to do with Mr
+St. Cyr.  It is just as well to make a stand about Selina as anything.
+It must have come some time, and now we shall have the pleasant old days
+back again."  And so on.  Yes, she grew very unhappy as she listened.
+Were the old times coming back again?--the times when she did not know
+where to turn to find a friend when anxiety for her little brothers and
+Tessie made her heart-sick.  Obedience! submission!  She had not been
+conscious of any such thing all this time.  She had felt so safe, so
+comforted, so at home with her brother and sister.  They had no
+authority certainly.  But would it be a wise or happy thing to take even
+the smallest of these affairs out of their hands into her own?
+
+If only Edgar would be reasonable about Selina!  No, she could not part
+from her.  She could bear it for herself; but what could Selina do
+without her?
+
+"I cannot, cannot let her go."
+
+Tessie's voice startled her again.  She was laughing merrily.
+
+"I declare, Fred, I could quite have fancied myself at home again.  I
+had forgotten how _grand_ you could be;" and she threw back her head
+with an air, and marched to the door as her sister had done.  "You quite
+frightened Cecilia, I could see.  As for Edgar, I think he was laughing
+a little.  He cannot be harder to overcome than Madame Ascot.  This
+`turning the other cheek' is all very well to talk about; but Edgar has
+no real authority over us, and if you are firm now, Fred, we shall have
+it all our own way."
+
+Did she want to have it all her own way?  Had Edgar no authority over
+them?  Would her father have said that?  And without him what was to be
+done with the brothers or with Tessie, should she grow wilful, as she
+used to be?  And as to "the other cheek"!  Had Edgar smitten her on the
+one cheek?  Was she right in resenting what he had planned and what he
+had said to her?  And now here was Tessie laughing and delighted at her
+anger and her pride.  Poor Fred!  The very foundations seemed to be
+removing.  The tears she had kept back with such difficulty flowed
+freely; but all this time she had never uttered a word.
+
+"I thought it was all over and at an end, my foolish anger and pride and
+disobedience, and now, at the very first word of opposition, I am as bad
+as ever.  Oh! if it were anything else, I would give up, and not mind!
+Hush, Tessie," she said aloud, "you do not understand.  No, you are not
+to speak to Selina.  I must think about it first.  Edgar never was
+unkind before.  Perhaps to-morrow he may change his plans."
+
+To-morrow found Frederica not at all well; a restless night had given
+her a headache; and when she did not appear at breakfast, Edgar went up
+to see her, only half convinced that real illness was keeping her in her
+room.  She was ill certainly, and very silent, but she was not angry any
+longer.  Selina was with her, and Edgar knew in a moment that nothing
+had been said between them with regard to the coming separation.  He was
+very gentle and kind, but Fred could not look up and meet his eye,
+because she had not fought out the battle with herself yet.  She had got
+so far as to acknowledge that it was very ungrateful in her to act and
+speak as though Edgar had no right to interfere in their affairs, after
+all his kindness to them.  Every hour she had felt more deeply how
+dearly she loved him, and how entirely she trusted him, and how terrible
+a thing it would be for them if their brother were to leave them to
+their own guidance, as she had yesterday wished him to do.
+
+But she had not been able during the wakeful night to persuade herself
+that he was right with regard to Selina.  She had thought of many things
+that she would like to say to him about her to make him change his mind;
+but when she saw his face in the morning, so kind and yet so firm in its
+expression, she doubted whether her words would avail, and so she did
+not look up, and scarcely uttered a word.  Tessie waited eagerly to hear
+what might be said, but she heard nothing, and their brother took her
+and Selina away with him, leaving Frederica to Miss Agnace's care.  So
+she had time to think over her trouble, and the longer she thought the
+more clearly she saw how foolish had been her anger, and how wrong her
+example to Tessie.
+
+Still she could not yield the point in question.  Edgar could not know
+as well as she what was best for Selina.  It would be like forsaking her
+sister, were she to consent to his plan.  It would be breaking her
+promise to her mother, that Selina should always be considered before
+herself.  She could not do it.
+
+And yet something made her feel sure that she must do as her brother
+wished, and feeling confidence in his love and in his wisdom, she
+thought if it had been anything else she would have yielded to him so
+gladly.  But she lay and turned about restless and feverish, more
+unhappy than she had ever been since the days of her illness after her
+father went away.  Miss Agnace came in and went out softly, saying
+little, but very gentle and kind.
+
+"Is it something that you cannot tell to your best friend?" she said at
+last, as she bathed her hot brow with cool water, and smoothed the hair
+that lay in confusion on the pillow.
+
+Frederica gave her a quick look.  She longed to ask her about her
+brother's plans, but it would not be right to do so.  And besides, Miss
+Agnace might not know, and might not tell her if she did.
+
+"After all He has brought you through to these happy days, you are
+surely not forgetting to bring your trouble to Him, are you?"
+
+It was not just the way Miss Agnace was wont to speak; but even Miss
+Agnace was beginning to see things differently, in the new light that
+was shining on them, and for a minute Frederica forgot her own trouble,
+looking at her wistfully.
+
+"Are you glad to be here, Miss Agnace?  Are you happy here?" said she.
+"Will you never go away from us any more?"
+
+"Oh! as to going away--no, while my young lady needs me," said Miss
+Agnace.
+
+"Not even if Father Jerome said you must?"
+
+The name had not been mentioned for a long time between them.  An odd
+look came over Miss Agnace's face.
+
+"He will not say it," said she.
+
+"Did he wish you to come?  I am very glad you came; but was he not
+afraid to let you come?  Was it for our sakes?" said Frederica, wishing
+to get away from her own troubled thoughts, and speaking very much at
+random.
+
+"My dear, Father Jerome loved you, though you doubted it, and he wished
+you well always, though perhaps he made mistakes," said Miss Agnace;
+"but you are to rest, and not think of anything to vex you, and I will
+leave you for a little while."
+
+But though Miss Agnace went, Frederica's troubled thoughts stayed with
+her, and she said to herself she must find courage to write to Colonel
+Bentham, and ask him to interfere between her and her brother.  Could
+she ask it? would it do? oh! how helpless and miserable she felt!
+Suddenly there came into her mind Miss Agnace's question: "Is it then
+anything you cannot carry to your best Friend?--to Him who has brought
+you through all to such happy days?"
+
+Had she brought it to Him?  Could she bring it?  Not her anger, and her
+pride, and her determination to rebel--to have her own way; but her
+trouble--her fear for Selina being far away and unhappy.  If Edgar did
+not know what would be best for her, surely Jesus did, and He would help
+them.  But then it might not be in her way.  They might have to be
+separated all the same.  Frederica cried bitterly as she thought about
+it; but she did bring her trouble to her Friend, and the bitterness had
+all gone out of her tears, and out of her heart too, before she fell
+asleep.  When she woke, her brother was looking down upon her with a
+very grave face.  Frederica smiled, though her tears came again.
+
+"I am going to be good," said she, and she took the hand that rested on
+hers, and Carried it to her lips.
+
+"My darling! my precious little sister!" said her brother, moved by her
+gentleness as her anger could not move him.  "It grieves me sorely to
+have to grieve you; but trust me, Frederica, this once."
+
+"Ah! must you grieve us?  I do trust you: I could bear it, but Selina!
+I do not think I am vain, but I cannot think what she will do without
+me," she pleaded.  "No, I am not going to be naughty, and I do trust
+you--"
+
+Edgar soothed her with his touch and his voice.  He was very gentle with
+her.
+
+"If I were sure--"
+
+"But, darling, if you were sure, there would be no need to trust me.
+And our Elder Brother--do you think He will forget Selina and you?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Fred, but her tears fell fast.  He was very tender with
+her, and firm too, telling her that he depended on her to make the
+parting easy to her sister, saying it would only be for a little while,
+and in the meantime she could not be very unhappy, having many and
+pleasant duties, and a willing mind.  And then there was Tessie, who
+needed her more even then Selina.  And Frederica's conscience told her
+that Tessie had been none the better for her influence for the last two
+days at least.
+
+"I will try and be good," she said, and her brother could not but wonder
+at her gentleness; and as he went out he said softly to himself,
+"`Except ye become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into
+the kingdom of heaven.'"
+
+In one sense Frederica's trouble was over now.  Her anger was over, and
+her rebellion; and in trying to speak cheerfully of their separation,
+for Selina's sake, she did much to strengthen herself for the trial.
+Selina was startled and grieved at the thought of going away from her
+sisters, but she was gentle and yielding, as she always had been, and
+never doubted that their brother was wise and right in the plans he had
+made for them.
+
+So she said "Good-bye," cheerfully enough, and so did the others for
+that matter; but when she was gone, and Frederica found herself standing
+looking after the departing carriage, it seemed to her that the feeling
+of loss and loneliness was more than she could bear.
+
+"And now we shall have our drive in the Park," said Colonel Bentham
+cheerfully, as though nothing particular had happened, and Selina's
+going away was an event of every-day occurrence.  But Frederica stood
+very white and still.
+
+"I am--tired--I think.  If Tessie would go without me to-day," said she
+with difficulty, but she walked very quietly by Captain Clare's side
+till they came to the drawing-room door.  "I think I must--rest for a
+little while.  Will you excuse me to Colonel Bentham?"
+
+She spoke quietly; but when she looked up and met the kind eyes that
+were looking down on her, she gave a little cry, and ran upstairs into
+her room, not at all sure that she was not rebellious and angry still.
+Tessie came in soon, all ready for the drive, and found her sister
+crying on the bed.  She was quite inclined to feel aggrieved at the
+delay.  She went at her sister's entreaty to carry her excuses to
+Colonel Bentham.  Her guardian seemed quite to understand, and they went
+out without her.
+
+True to her determination to be good, Frederica did not long indulge her
+tears, and within the hour she came downstairs, and walking sedately
+into the drawing-room, found Captain Clare waiting for her.  Her
+elaborate cheerfulness was quite as pathetic, he thought, as her grief
+had been, and so were her fears that her guardian might believe her to
+be ungrateful for his kindness.  Captain Clare laughed at her a little.
+
+"You speak as though you were a child to be punished for being naughty
+by being put in a corner," said he.  "Shall we go and walk? we may meet
+the carriage, and you can still have your drive."
+
+Frederica hesitated, but only a moment.
+
+"You were reading," said she.
+
+"I was waiting for you, and now we must hasten, for the best of the
+afternoon is passing."
+
+They did not meet the carriage, though they went a long way round,
+hoping to do so.  Frederica was not sorry: she never forgot that walk
+home in the twilight.  As it grew dark she put her hand into that of her
+friend, as simply as a little child might have done, and for a while she
+had most of the talk to herself.  She told him more than she had ever
+told any one before about their mother, and their old home and their way
+of life; and sometimes he smiled, and sometimes he was deeply touched,
+as she dwelt with quite unconscious pathos on some of the incidents of
+those days.  Her face clouded as they drew near the house.
+
+"I am almost afraid to go in," said she.
+
+"Lest you should be naughty again?  No, you will not," said her friend.
+"See, I will give you something to prevent it: `Thou shalt keep him in
+perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in
+Thee.'"
+
+"Thank you," said Frederica, without looking up.  "A month is a long
+time, two months perhaps."
+
+"But it will soon pass, and summer will soon be here, and who knows what
+summer may bring?"
+
+"And this afternoon has not been so bad," said Frederica.
+
+No time after that was so very bad.  Frederica kept herself
+conscientiously busy for one thing, and she kept Tessie busy also.
+Their friends made pleasures for them.  They had walks with Captain
+Clare which were always delightful, and drives with their sister
+Cecilia, and one day they went with them to visit their brothers, whose
+school was not so very far away, and this they enjoyed wonderfully.
+Frederica, who had had few letters in the course of her life, took great
+delight in those of her brother Edgar.  Besides bringing good news of
+her sister's health and happiness, they were full of interest for other
+reasons, and they never failed to contain just a word or two to remind
+the sisters at home that all were alike safe in the best keeping.
+
+And better than all other helps towards patience and content was the
+young girl's trust in Him who had brought them to a safe place.  On Him
+she was learning to rest more lovingly every day.  She suffered a good
+deal at first; but peace came and stayed, not quite the perfect peace
+promised to them whose trust is entire and full, but even that came
+later.
+
+Tessie watched her sister narrowly, and expressed her opinion of her way
+of taking it all by little shrugs and laughing protests, in which
+Frederica sometimes fancied there was a contemptuous echo.  But Tessie
+was subdued at last by her sister's never-failing gentleness and
+sweetness, and showed it by devotion to her duties, and by deference to
+her sister's wishes in little things.
+
+The time of Selina's absence extended beyond what was first planned.
+But this was not so great a trial as it seemed beforehand Spring passed
+into summer before a word was said of their going home, and the time
+came to leave hot and dusty London, and to return to Eastwood Park
+again, and the sisters went gladly, though they had no thought of the
+joyful surprise awaiting them there.
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
+
+If Eastwood had been beautiful to the eyes of the sisters when seen
+under Christmas skies, what was it now in the prime of summer?  The pony
+carriage awaited them at the station, and in it they drove to the Park
+the nearest way through the loveliest lanes, in the hedges of which
+Tessie counted nearly a score of different green growing things besides
+honeysuckle and foxgloves and bluebells and many a flower that she could
+not name.  How wide and still the Park was, with only green grass and
+great trees to see at first, and by-and-by shrubbery, and then flowers,
+and then the house itself came in sight.  There were open doors and
+windows, and people coming and going over the lawn, and Grandmamma
+Bentham sitting in a garden chair, in full sight of the gate.
+
+Some one was coming to meet them, as the carriage stopped at the east
+gate, and they came in.  Some one!  There were many people.  Colonel
+Bentham was there, and Captain Clare, and Everard, and their brothers
+Charlie and Hubert.  But "some one" was Selina, not led by Miss Agnace,
+as might have seemed natural, not led by any one, though Everard Bentham
+walked at a little distance from her, regarding her with the strangest
+wondering smile upon his face.  Their brother Edgar was there too, a
+little in advance of the rest.  But Selina walked alone, and came
+forward to them, holding her hand a little out before her, as she always
+used to do, walking softly and slowly to the very gate, for Frederica
+stood still and waited.  Tessie waited too a moment, and then sprang
+forward with a cry.
+
+"Selina!  Do you see me?  Oh!  Fred.  Oh! mama! mama?"
+
+And then she clasped and kissed her, clinging to her, and sobbing
+wildly, moved as no one had ever seen the sharp little Tessie moved
+before.
+
+"Gently, Tessie love," said her guardian, putting his arms about her,
+and drawing her aside from the rest.  Frederica stood still and white at
+the gate, so still and white that her brother Edgar drawing near looked
+anxiously at her.  But she only looked at Selina, who paused at a little
+distance.
+
+"Frederica," she said, "I can see you."
+
+Then Frederica awoke out of her dream; but before she sprang forward to
+clasp her sister, she turned and kissed the hand her brother had laid on
+her shoulder.  She did not cry out as Tessie had done, nor speak a word,
+but she held her sister's hand firmly as they walked towards the house,
+looking at her with eyes in which the wonder hardly left room for the
+pleasure to appear.
+
+The meeting had not happened just as their elder brother had desired and
+planned.  He had meant to prepare his sisters for the happy change in
+Selina, but perhaps it happened just as well.  They were left very much
+to themselves for the rest of the day; and as their way was at such
+times, they talked in their mother tongue fast and eagerly.  That is,
+Tessie and the little brothers talked, and Selina also, who had much to
+tell them, though she told it in few words.  The beginning and the end
+of all was her brother Edgar's kindness to her during the time she had
+been away.
+
+As to how it all came about--how through the wonderful skill, and
+unfailing gentle care of her brother's friend, and of her brother as
+well, the blessed gift of sight was restored to her, need not be told
+here.  The sweet blue eyes looked just as they had always looked, but
+there was light in them now.  Her face was changed.  It was not so
+peaceful and serener--it could hardly be brighter than it used to be.
+But it had an expectant look, and its expression varied every moment.
+Her constant movements towards this and that, in her attempts at a
+nearer acquaintance with things which she had hitherto only known by
+touch or by sound, gave her an air of restlessness not at all like
+Selina, and for a little while Frederica watched her doubtfully.  But
+when Edgar came among them, hushing the eager buzz of talk, and saying
+gently to Selina that she had seen enough for one day, the old look came
+back, sweet and serene, and she lay down at his bidding, with closed
+eyes and a smile on her lips that reassured her sisters.  And then Edgar
+said in response to the brightening of Frederica's face,--
+
+"Yes, it is a new world to her.  But she has had the best things all
+along--the peace and the joy--and she is not going to lose them because
+she can see.  I think you may let yourself be glad for her."
+
+"Yes, I am glad! for her," said Frederica gravely, "very glad, I think;
+or I shall be glad by-and-by."
+
+"Are you sure you are glad now?" said Captain Clare to her when a few
+days had passed, and they had in some measure become accustomed to the
+knowledge that Selina could see; "because I do not think you always look
+very glad."
+
+"I am glad for Selina, I am glad for us all: But then, you see, I do not
+quite know what I am going to do with myself and my life now," said she
+gravely.  "I have it all to plan over again, now that Selina will not
+need me to take care of her."
+
+"You need not be afraid, I think," said her friend.  "Your work will
+come to you; and indeed, your sister needs you as much as ever.  She
+does not seem to be able to do without you."
+
+"She likes to look at me, because I am like mama, she says.  She has not
+forgotten mama all these years since she was a little child.  And I am
+to teach her all I know; and that will not take me long," added she,
+laughing.  "And besides, she has been learning all the time, though not
+with her eyes.  Oh, yes!  I am glad!"
+
+In the midst of their rejoicing Mr St. Cyr came to Eastwood Park; and
+if Frederica had had her choice of all the pleasant things that might
+happen to them, she would certainly have chosen this.  It was almost
+like being at home again, and having the old times back.  Not but that
+they were all quite content at Eastwood; but their old friend, who had
+also been their mother's friend, was very welcome and dear.  They had
+some things to say to him that it would not have been easy to say to any
+one else; and his odd ways with them, sometimes merry and sometimes
+grave, always old-fashioned and friendly, had a wonderful charm for them
+all, and even for those who were looking on.
+
+Frederica no longer doubted her joy over her sister when she presented
+her to Mr St. Cyr.  Her tears fell, it is true, in a sudden shower, as
+she said to him, "If mama had only known!"  But her tears were soon dry;
+and in his society, responding to his quaint ways and speeches, she grew
+more talkative and merry than ever her English friends had seen her
+before.  She was more like the Fred who used to drive "Jack and Jill,"
+and amuse the children in Miss Robina's orchard, than like the grave
+little monitress of her brothers and Tessie, inclined to be careful and
+troubled about many things.
+
+Mr St. Cyr stayed at Eastwood till the summer days began to grow short,
+and then he went away, not to Canada, but to some mild climate, for
+another winter, till his health should be more firmly re-established.
+It was quite as well, for the peace of mind of the young people, that he
+should have so decided; for they might have longed to return with him,
+had he been going home.
+
+If I were to carry my story over the next three years, I should have
+little more to say than this: they were happy and profitable years for
+them all.  Selina learned all that Frederica could teach her, and some
+things besides.  Sometimes they were in London, and at Christmas times
+and during the summer they were at beautiful Eastwood.  They went
+through some of the prettiest parts of England with their brothers, to
+their great delight; and after a time their travels extended beyond
+England.  They saw just what other travellers see, and enjoyed it more
+than most travellers do, being young and full of life, with no weight of
+care pressing upon them.
+
+And after their travels were over they began seriously to consider and
+plan what their life-work was to be, and on which side of the sea it was
+to be done.  Selina still spoke of the blind old people and little
+children whom she would like to gather into their old home, to care for
+and to teach.  But her plans went farther than these now.
+
+"For surely," said she, "if we were to tell our people about Jesus and
+all He has done for them, they would turn to Him rather than to those
+who bid them look to Mary and the Saints in time of need.  It is because
+they do not know Him that they look to be saved in some other way, and I
+would like to teach them.  It is at home that we ought to be, Miss
+Agnace, is it not?"
+
+But Miss Agnace had little to say, knowing better than they all that
+would make it impossible for these young girls to influence directly any
+one among a people so docile in the hands of their spiritual guides.
+
+"God will prepare your work for you," said Miss Agnace gravely.  "It
+matters little where it is, so that it is done for Him.  We must wait
+and see."
+
+Selina's work came to her in an unexpected way, but by a sure token she
+knew it to be God-given work when it came.  It was no new work.  Ever
+since the happy Christmas-time when the blind girl went softly about the
+great house at Eastwood, and sat in the sunshine in Grandmamma Bentham's
+garden, she had been doing a good work for Everard Bentham.  Her
+influence was exerted quite unconsciously.  She did not know how much
+every gentle word of hers meant to him, how dear she became to him day
+by day.  But when he left his father's house after that time, it was
+with a new resolve for the future--to the living of a new life, to a new
+end.  Three years of earnest devotion to the duties of his profession,
+and to the still higher duties of a Christian gentleman, had placed him
+on different ground from that which he had occupied in the days when his
+father had suffered deep anxiety with regard to him.  Edgar Vane had
+always loved him, now he respected and trusted him; and when he found
+courage to ask Selina to become his wife, neither her guardian nor her
+brother said him nay.  Selina had no doubt then on which side of the sea
+her work was to lie.
+
+All their friends were surprised when it came to be known that Captain
+Clare had persuaded Frederica to share a soldier's fortunes as his wife.
+Not that it needed much persuasion.  For though he was older and graver
+than she, one who might be thought little likely to take a young girl's
+fancy, Frederica knew his worth, and had long loved him, first as her
+brother's friend, and then as her own.  Her husband took her to Canada
+for a time, where his regiment was stationed, and Tessie accompanied
+them.  Selina and her husband also went with them for a summer holiday.
+
+And so Selina saw her old home, as Edgar had foretold.  It was she who,
+through the lifting morning mists, first caught sight of the city roofs
+and the cathedral towers, and the mountain beyond, beautiful with the
+level light of the sunrise on them.  She saw her old home, and the two
+graves, and the faces of some people who had only been as names to her
+in the old days.  She saw her home, and for a time she wished she had
+not seen it, but that she had allowed it still to stand in her memory as
+the sweetest and loveliest spot on earth, made beautiful in her thought
+by the remembrance of her mother and of all they had been to each other
+there.
+
+For the old home was changed.  The great warehouses pressed closer and
+closer upon it.  The garden had been encroached upon, and the shadows of
+great chimneys and workshops darkened the lawn.  It was very little like
+the home she had been remembering so lovely all these years.  It was
+little like home to many of them now.
+
+There were few people that they remembered well.  They saw Miss Robina
+again, but her mother was dead, and so was Mistress Campbell.  Madame
+Precoe was very friendly with them, in her unpleasant way.  She smiled,
+and was polite, and spoke softly to them, but she never allowed them to
+forget that she believed them to have wandered far from the truth, and
+that days of darkness awaited them.
+
+Father Jerome did not come to see them, but one day Frederica met him in
+the street.  He had grown very old and bowed, and walked wearily, with
+his eyes fixed upon the ground, so that he did not see her when she
+passed.  For the moment she was glad, but afterwards she could not
+forget his face, nor the look it wore,--a look not peaceful, but
+silent--blank--unresponsive.
+
+Mr St. Cyr was home by this time, and they saw him often.  But he would
+not speak much about his brother.
+
+"He is not happy," said he; "but that is a small matter.  I pray God to
+give him His peace."
+
+And these young people, who had only just escaped great suffering and
+sorrow at his hand, remembering all the way by which they had been led
+and guided since then, could only join heartily in the prayer that God's
+peace might indeed come upon him, and God's light as well.
+
+Selina and her husband had only a summer holiday to give to her native
+country, and they did not linger long in M--.  Selina had been glad to
+come, but she was not sorry to go.  On the spot she did not find it easy
+to identify herself with the little blind child who had lived so happily
+with her mother there.  She seemed to herself to be a different person
+now.  She might have been quite content to remain, if her lot had been
+cast in her old home, but she returned gladly to the land of her
+adoption.  Miss Agnace returned with her.  Whether she asked and
+obtained leave from those whom in former days she had vowed to obey, or
+whether she broke her bonds of her own free will, no one asked her.  She
+is happy in the loving service of one whom she so faithfully cared for
+when she was in need of care, and happier still in the higher service of
+a Lord and Master whom she has better learned to know.
+
+Tessie stayed in Canada with her sister Caroline; and when the brothers
+have thoroughly prepared themselves for the work that awaits them, one
+or both of them may join her there.  They both give fair promise that
+they mean to do faithfully that which is given them to do.
+
+Frederica's work lies wherever her husband's duty calls him.  It is
+among the women and the little children of the regiment, who need her
+care; and the same gentle brightness that endeared her to her friends in
+the old days, makes her a messenger of blessing to many a suffering
+soul.  The message that brought peace to the troubled heart of her
+mother, when the shadows of the valley of death began to darken around
+her, has--spoken by Frederica's lips--brought peace to many a troubled
+heart since then.
+
+This is her work, and her happiness as well, and it does not matter on
+which side of the sea such work is done.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Frederica and her Guardians, by Margaret Robertson
+
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