re. God is not going to keep up this way
of things for you; can you ask it, seeing you don't care a straw what
he wants of you? But I have sometimes thought, What if hell be just a
place where God gives everybody everything she wants, and lets
everybody do whatever she likes, without once coming nigh to interfere!
What a hell that would be! For God's presence in the very being, and
nothing else, is bliss. That, then, would be altogether the opposite of
heaven, and very much the opposite of this world. Such a hell would go
on, I suppose, till every one had learned to hate every one else in the
same world with her."

This was beyond Hesper, and she paid no attention to it.

"You can never, in your sober senses, Mary," she said, "mean that God
requires of me to do things for Mr. Redmain that the servants can do a
great deal better! That would be ridiculous--not to mention that I
oughtn't and couldn't and wouldn't do them for any man!"

"Many a woman," said Mary, with a solemnity in her tone which she did
not intend to appear there, "has done many more trying things for
persons of whom she knew nothing."

"I dare say! But such women go in for being saints, and that is not my
line. I was not made for that."

"You were made for that, and far more," said Mary.

"There are such women, I know," persisted Hesper; "but I do not know
how they find it possible."

"I can tell you how they find it possible. They love every human being
just because he is human. Your husband might be a demon from the way
you behave to him."

"I suppose _you_ find it agreeable to wait upon him: he is civil to
you, I dare say!"

"Not very," replied Mary, with a smile; "but the person who can not
bear with a sick man or a baby is not fit to be a woman."

"You may go to your own room," said Hesper.

For the first time, a feeling of dislike to Mary awoke in the bosom of
her mistress--very naturally, _all_ my readers will allow. The next few
days she scarcely spoke to her, sending directions for her work through
Sepia, who discharged the office with dignity.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE HELPER.

At length one morning, when she believed Mrs. Redmain would not rise
before noon, Mary felt she must go and see Letty. She did not find her
in the quarters where she had left her, but a story higher, in a mean
room, sitting with her hands in her lap. She did not lift her eyes when
Mary entered: where hope is dead, curiosity dies. Not until she had
com