undergo now. There was my fault. I
did not, I declare, seek to attach her. I did nothing wrong so far.
But I dared to measure suffering--to calculate consequences
presumptuously and vainly: and this is my retribution. How would it
have been, if I had allowed them to go back to Birmingham, and had been
haunted with the image of her there? But why go over this again, when
my very soul is weary of it all? It lies behind, and let it be
forgotten. The present is what I have to do with, and it is quite
enough. I have injured, cruelly injured myself; and I must bear with
myself. Here I am, charged with the duty of not casting my shadow over
the innocent, and of strengthening the infirm. I have a clear duty
before me--that is one blessing. The innocent will soon be taken from
under my shadow--I trust so--for my duty there is almost too hard. How
she would confide in me, and I must not let her, and must continually
disappoint her, and suffer in her affection. I cannot even be to her
what our relation warrants. And all the while her thoughts are my
thoughts; her... But this will never do. It is enough that she trusts
me, and that I deserve that she should. This is all that I can ever
have or hope for; but I have won thus much; and I shall keep it. Not a
doubt or fear, not a moment's ruffle of spirits, shall she ever
experience from me. As for my own poor sufferer--what months and years
are before us both! What a discipline before she can be at peace! If
she were to look forward as I do, her heart would sink as mine does, and
perhaps she would try... But we must not look forward: her heart must
not sink. I must keep it up. She has strength under her weakness, and
I must help her to bring it out and use it. There ought to be, there
must be, peace in store for such generosity of spirit as lies under the
jealousy, for such devotedness, for such power. Margaret says, `When it
comes to acting, see how she will act.' Oh, that it might please Heaven
to send such adversity as would prove to herself how nobly she can act!
If some strong call on her power, would come in aid of what I would fain
do for her, I care not what it is. If I can only witness my own wrong
repaired--if I can but see her blessed from within, let all other things
be as they may! The very thought frees me, and I breathe again!"

CHAPTER TWENTY.

ENDERBY NEWS.

"Mamma, what do you think Fanny and Mary Grey say?" asked Matilda of her
m