might fill it with Myself,--child, did I love thee
less, or more?'"

Mrs Tremayne paused so long, that Blanche asked timidly--"And did he
come again at last, or no?"

A slight, sudden movement of her friend's head showed that her thoughts
were far away, and that she came back to the present with something like
an effort.

"Methinks, dear heart," Mrs Tremayne said lovingly, "there was a
special point whereto God did desire to bring this maiden;--a point
whereat He oft-times aimeth in the training of His childre. It is, to
be satisfied with His will. Not only to submit thereto. Thou mayest
submit unto all outward seeming, and yet be sore dissatisfied."

Was not this Blanche's position at that moment?

"But to be satisfied with His ordering--to receive it as the best thing,
dearer unto thee than thine own will and way; as the one thing which
thou wouldst have done, at the cost, if need be, of all other:--ah,
Blanche, 'tis no light nor easy thing, this! And unto this God led her
of whom I have been telling thee. He led her, till she could look up to
Him, and say, with a true, honest heart--`Father, lead where Thou wilt.
If in the dark, well: so Thou hold me, I am content I am Thine, body,
and soul, and spirit: it shall be well and blessed for me, if but Thy
will be done.' And then, Blanche,--when she could look up and say this
in sincerity--then He laid down His rod, and gave all back into her
bosom."

Blanche drew a deep sigh,--partly of relief, but not altogether.

"You knew this maiden your own self, Mrs Tremayne?"

"Wouldst thou fain know whom the maid were, Blanche? Her name was--
Thekla Rose."

"Mistress Tremayne!--yourself?"

"Myself, dear heart. And I should not have gone back over this story
now, but that I thought it might serve thee to hear it. I love not to
look back to that time, though it were to mine own good. 'Tis like an
ill wound which is healed, and thou hast no further suffering thereof:
yet the scar is there for evermore. And yet, dear Blanche, if it were
given me to choose, now, whether I would have that dark and weary time
part of my life, or no--reckoning what I should have lost without it--I
would say once again, Ay. They that know the sweetness of close walking
with God will rather grope, step by step, at His side through the
darkness, than walk smoothly in the full glare of the sun without Him:
and very street was my walk, when I had won back the felt holding of His
hand."