od a while gazing
on the outward scene that harmonised with her own internal agitation:
her grief was like the storm, her love like the light of that bright
moon and star. There came over her a desire to see her mother, which
she felt irresistible; she was resolved that no difficulty, no
impediment, should prevent her instantly from throwing herself on her
bosom. It seemed to her that her brain would burn, that this awful
night could never end without such an interview. She opened her door,
went forth again into the vestibule, and approached with a nervous but
desperate step her mother's chamber. To her astonishment the door was
ajar, but there was a light within. With trembling step and downcast
eyes, Venetia entered the chamber, scarcely daring to advance, or to
look up.

'Mother,' she said, but no one answered; she heard the tick of the
clock; it was the only sound. 'Mother,' she repeated, and she dared to
look up, but the bed was empty. There was no mother. Lady Annabel was
not in the room. Following an irresistible impulse, Venetia knelt by
the side of her mother's bed and prayed. She addressed, in audible and
agitated tones, that Almighty and Beneficent Being of whom she was
so faithful and pure a follower. With sanctified simplicity, she
communicated to her Creator and her Saviour all her distress, all her
sorrow, all the agony of her perplexed and wounded spirit. If she had
sinned, she prayed for forgiveness, and declared in solitude, to One
whom she could not deceive, how unintentional was the trespass; if she
were only misapprehended, she supplicated for comfort and consolation,
for support under the heaviest visitation she had yet experienced, the
displeasure of that earthly parent whom she revered only second to her
heavenly Father.

'For thou art my Father,' said Venetia, 'I have no other father
but thee, O God! Forgive me, then, my heavenly parent, if in my
wilfulness, if in my thoughtless and sinful blindness, I have sighed
for a father on earth, as well as in heaven! Great have thy mercies
been to me, O God! in a mother's love. Turn, then, again to me the
heart of that mother whom I have offended! Let her look upon her child
as before; let her continue to me a double parent, and let me pay to
her the duty and the devotion that might otherwise have been divided!'

'Amen!' said a sweet and solemn voice; and Venetia was clasped in her
mother's arms.

CHAPTER III.

If the love of Lady Annabel