"

"The fortieth Psalm."

Mrs. Gerome opened the Bible, and, when she had finished the psalm
designated, shut the book and laid it back close to Elsie's pillow.

The old woman placed her hand on the round, white arm of her mistress,
who rested carelessly against the bed.

"You know, my child, that David's afflictions were sore indeed; but he
declares, 'I waited patiently for the Lord, and he inclined unto me,
and heard my cry.' You will not be patient, and God can't help you
till you are. We are like children punished for bad conduct,--as long
as we rebel and struggle, of course we must be still further
chastised; but the moment we show real penitence, our parents notice
that we are bearing correction patiently, and then they throw away the
rod and stretch out their arms, and snatch us close to their loving
hearts. Even so God holds one hand to draw us tenderly to Him; and, if
we are obstinately sinful, with the other He scourges us into the
right path,--determined to help us, even against our own wills. Ah, if
I could see you waiting patiently for the Lord!"

"You will never see it. Patience was 'scourged' out of me, and now I
stand still because I am worn out with struggling, waiting--not
patiently, but wearily and helplessly--to see the end of my
punishment. What have I done that I should feign a penitence I shall
never feel? I was a happy, trusting, unoffending woman, when God smote
me fiercely; and, because I was so innocent, I could not kiss my
stinging rod, I grappled desperately with it. Elsie, don't stir up the
bitter dregs in my soul, and mix them with every thought. Let them
settle."

"My darling, I don't want them to settle. I pray either that they may
be stirred up and taken out, or sweetened by the grace of God. Do you
ever think of the day when you will face your sainted mother?"

"No. I think only of enduring this present life until death, my
deliverer, comes to my rescue."

"But, my bairn, you are not fit to die."

"Fit to die as to live," answered her mistress, morosely.

"For God's sake, don't flout the Almighty in that wicked manner! If
you would only be baptized and take refuge in prayer, as every
Christian should, you would find peace for your poor, miserable
soul."

"No; peace can't be poured out of a pitcher with the baptismal water;
and all the waves tossing and glittering out there in the ocean could
not wash one painful memory from my heart. I have had one baptism, and
it was am