he first? And in the wars and
troubles when Christians were cruelest, our fathers had sometimes slain
their children and afterward themselves: it was to save them from being
false apostates. That seemed to make it right for me to put an end to
my life; for calamity had closed me in too, and I saw no pathway but to
evil. But my mind got into war with itself, for there were contrary
things in it. I knew that some had held it wrong to hasten their own
death, though they were in the midst of flames; and while I had some
strength left it was a longing to bear if I ought to bear--else where
was the good of all my life? It had not been happy since the first
years: when the light came every morning I used to think, 'I will bear
it.' But always before I had some hope; now it was gone. With these
thoughts I wandered and wandered, inwardly crying to the Most High,
from whom I should not flee in death more than in life--though I had no
strong faith that He cared for me. The strength seemed departing from
my soul; deep below all my cries was the feeling that I was alone and
forsaken. The more I thought the wearier I got, till it seemed I was
not thinking at all, but only the sky and the river and the Eternal God
were in my soul. And what was it whether I died or lived? If I lay down
to die in the river, was it more than lying down to sleep?--for there
too I committed my soul--I gave myself up. I could not bear memories
any more; I could only feel what was present in me--it was all one
longing to cease from my weary life, which seemed only a pain outside
the great peace that I might enter into. That was how it was. When the
evening came and the sun was gone, it seemed as if that was all I had
to wait for. And a new strength came into me to will what I would do.
You know what I did. I was going to die. You know what happened--did he
not tell you? Faith came to me again; I was not forsaken. He told you
how he found me?"

Mrs. Meyrick gave no audible answer, but pressed her lips against
Mirah's forehead.

* * * * *

"She's just a pearl; the mud has only washed her," was the fervid
little woman's closing commentary when, _tete-a-tete_ with Deronda in
the back parlor that evening, she had conveyed Mirah's story to him
with much vividness.

"What is your feeling about a search for this mother?" said Deronda.
"Have you no fears? I have, I confess."

"Oh, I believe the mother's good," said Mrs. Meyrick, w