‘Two whole years,’ said Lily.  ’Oh! and aunt, Robert too, and Frank went to India the beginning of that year; yes, there was enough to depress her, but I never thought of grief going on in that quiet dull way for so many years.’

‘You would prefer one violent burst, and then forgetfulness?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Lily; ’but I should like a little evidence of it.  If it is really strong, it cannot be hid.’

Little did Lily think of the grief that sat heavy upon the spirit of Alethea, who answered—­’Some people can do anything that they consider their duty.’

‘Duty:  what, are you a duty lover?’ exclaimed Lilias.  ’I never suspected it, because you are not disagreeable.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alethea, laughing, ’your compliment rather surprises me, for I thought you told me that your brother Claude was on the duty side of the question.’

‘He thinks he is,’ said Lily, ’but love is his real motive of action, as I can prove to you.  Poor Claude had a very bad illness when he was about three years old; and ever since he has been liable to terrible headaches, and he is not at all strong.  Of course he cannot always study hard, and when first he went to school, every one scolded him for being idle.  I really believe he might have done more, but then he was so clever that he could keep up without any trouble, and, as Robert says, that was a great temptation; but still papa was not satisfied, because he said Claude could do better.  So said Harry.  Oh! you cannot think what a person Harry was, as high-spirited as William, and as gentle as Claude; and in his kind way he used to try hard to make Claude exert himself, but it never would do--he was never in mischief, but he never took pains.  Then Harry died, and when Claude came home, and saw how changed things were, how gray papa’s hair had turned, and how silent and melancholy William had grown, he set himself with all his might to make up to papa as far as he could.  He thought only of doing what Harry would have wished, and papa himself says that he has done wonders.  I cannot see that Henry himself could have been more than Claude is now; he has not spared himself in the least, his tutor says, and he would have had the Newcastle Scholarship last year, if he had not worked so hard that he brought on one of his bad illnesses, and was obliged to come home.  Now I am sure that he has acted from love, for it was as much his duty to take pains while Harry was alive as afterwards.’

‘Certainly,’ said Miss Weston, ‘but what does he say himself?’

‘Oh! he never will talk of himself,’ said Lily.

‘Have you not overlooked one thing which may be the truth,’ said Alethea, as if she was asking for information, ’that duty and love may be identical?  Is not St. Paul’s description of charity very like the duty to our neighbour?’

‘The practice is the same, but not the theory,’ said Lily.

’Now, what is called duty, seems to me to be love doing unpleasant work,’ said Miss Weston; ’love disguised under another name, when obliged to act in a way which seems, only seems, out of accordance with its real title.’