’My dear, the truth is in you still, or you could not grieve thus over your failure,’ said Albinia.  ’I know you erred, because it did not occur to you that it was not acting openly by me; but oh!  Sophy, there is something that would bring you nearer to Edmund than hard truth in your own strength.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Sophy.

‘Did you ever think what Edmund is about now?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sophy.

’I only know that the one thing which is carried with us to the other world is love, Sophy, and love that becomes greater than we can yet imagine.  If you would think of Him who redeemed and saved your dear Edmund, and who is his happiness, his exceeding great reward, your heart would warm, and, oh! what hope and peace would come!’

‘Edmund was good,’ said Sophy, in a tone as if to mark the hopeless gulf between.

’And you are sorry.  All human goodness begins from sorrow.  It had even to be promised first for baby at his christening, you know.  Oh, Sophy, God’s blessing can make all these tears come to joy.’

Albinia’s own tears were flowing so fast, that she broke off to hide them in her own room, her heart panting with hope, and yet with grief and pity for the piteous disclosure of so dreary a girlhood.  After all, childhood, if not the happiest, is the saddest period of life—­pains, griefs, petty tyrannies, neglects, and terrors have not the alleviation of the experience that ’this also shall pass away;’ time moves with a tardier pace, and in the narrower sphere of interests, there is less to distract the attention from the load of grievances.  Hereditary low spirits, a precocious mind, a reserved temper, a motherless home, the loss of her only congenial companion, and the long-enduring effect of her illness upon her health, had all conspired to weigh down the poor girl, and bring on an almost morbid state of gloomy discontent.  Her father’s second marriage, by enlivening the house, had rendered her peculiarities even more painful to herself and others, and the cultivation of mind that was forced upon her, made her more averse to the trifling and playfulness, which, while she was younger, had sometimes brightened and softened her.  And this was the girl whom her father had resolved upon sending to the selfish, inconsiderate, frivolous world of school-girls, just when the first opening had been made, the first real insight gained into her feelings, the first appearance of having touched her heart!  Albinia felt baffled, disappointed, almost despairing.  His stern decree, once made, was, she knew, well-nigh unalterable; and though resolved to use her utmost influence, she doubted its power after having seen that look of decision.  Nay, she tried to think he might be right.  There might be those who would manage Sophy better.  Eighteen months had been a fair trial, and she had failed.  She prayed earnestly for whatever might be best for the child, and for herself, that she might take it patiently and submissively.