e by living to others, who only
seek to make you happier.'

'I wish they would let me alone. If they had, there would have been an
end of it.'

'An end--no indeed, my poor child!'

'There!' cried Bertha; 'that's what it is to live! To be shuddered at!'

'No, Bertha, I did not shudder at the wild delusion and indiscretion,
which may be lived down and redeemed, but at the fearful act that would
have cut you off from all hope, and chained you to yourself, and such a
self, for ever, never to part from the shame whence you sought to escape.
Yes, surely there must have been pleading in Heaven to win for you that
instant's relenting. Rescued twice over, there must be some work for you
to do, something to cast into shade all that has passed.'

'It will not destroy memory!' she said, with hopeless indifference.

'No; but you may be so occupied with it as to rise above your present
pain and humiliation, and remember them only to gather new force from
your thankfulness.'

'What, that I was made a fool of?' cried Bertha, with sharpness in her
thin voice.

'That you were brought back to the new life that is before you.'

Though Bertha made no answer, Honor trusted that a beginning had been
made, but only to be disappointed, for the fever was higher the next day,
and Bertha was too much oppressed for speech. The only good sign was
that in the dusk she desired that the door should be left open, in case
Maria should be singing. It was the first preference she had evinced.
The brothers were ready to crown Maria, and she sang with such good-will
that Phoebe was forced to take precautions, fearing lest the harmony
should lose 'the modest charm of not too much.'

There ensued a decided liking for Maria's company, partly no doubt from
her envied deficiency, and her ignorance of the extent of Bertha's
misdemeanour, partly because there was less effort of mind in intercourse
with her. Her pleasure in waiting on her sister was likewise so warm and
grateful, that Bertha felt herself conferring a favour, and took
everything from her in a spirit very different from the dull submission
towards Miss Fennimore or the peevish tyranny over Phoebe. Towards no
one else save Miss Charlecote did she show any favour, for though their
conversation was never even alluded to, it had probably left a pleasant
impression, and possibly she was entertained by Honor's systematic habit
of talking of the world beyond to the other nurses in her prese