but it isn't to-day, my poor child."

Then, perceiving that his remark caused the hand which rested on his arm
to tremble, while the eyes which had been raised to his suddenly fell
and hid themselves under their long lashes, he said, "However, we will
trust soon to see it as bright as ever. But they should not have brought
you here. Catskill Mountain was a fitter place for your lively
imagination and reflecting mind."

"Oh!" exclaimed Gertrude, imagining that Mr. Phillips suspected her to
be smarting under some neglect, feeling of wounded pride, or, perhaps,
serious injury, "you speak harshly; all are not selfish, all are not
unkind."

"Ah! you are young, and full of faith. Trust whom you can, and as long
as you can. _I_ trust _no one_."

"No one! Are there none, then, in the whole world whom you love and
confide in?"

"Scarcely; certainly not more than one. Whom should I trust?"

"The good, the pure, the truly great."

"And who are they? How shall we distinguish them? I tell you, my young
friend, that in my experience--and it has been rich, ay, very rich"--and
he set his teeth and spoke with bitterness--"the so-called good, the
honourable, the upright man, has proved but the varnished hypocrite, the
highly finished and polished sinner. Yes," continued he, his voice
growing deeper, his manner more excited, "I can think of one, a
respectable man, a church-member, whose injustice and cruelty made my
life what it has been--a desert, a blank, or worse than that; and I can
think of another, an old, rough, intemperate sailor, over whose head a
day never passed that he did not take the name of his God in vain, yet
had at the bottom of his heart a drop of such pure, unsullied essence of
virtue as could not be distilled from the souls of ten thousand of your
polished rogues. Which, then, shall I trust--the good religious men, or
the low, profane, and abject ones?"

"Trust in _goodness_, wherever it be found," answered Gertrude; "but oh,
trust _all_ rather than _none_."

"Your world, your religion, draws a closer line. You are a good child,
and full of hope and charity," said Mr. Phillips, pressing her arm
closely to his side. "I will try and have faith in _you_. But see! our
friends have returned from the concert."

Alboni had excelled herself; and they were so sorry Gertrude did not go.
"But, perhaps," whispered Netta, "you have enjoyed yourself more at
home." But Gertrude, as she stood leaning unconcernedly upon M