At that I smiled a little.
“A year or so ago mamma used to worry a great deal in her sweet way that was not actual complaining, about being such a burthen. She thought it was dreadful to have all my plans brought to nought, when I loved teaching so much. And sometimes I could not see just why that misfortune had to happen to me.”
“It is clearer now.”
“The way is clearer,—yes. But it is only lately that I have understood the great truth.”
“I am sure you were always patient and good-tempered.”
“Isn’t there something still higher than that, or wider, maybe? We do not live to ourselves, after all, or we ought not.”
“No;” I returned a little wonderingly, studying the bright thoughtful face.
“The knowledge came—with something else. Every day there is a new unfolding. And I wanted to tell you—”
Her voice trembled and the sweet eyes were downcast, while a soft flush crept up to her temples.
“Oh, Jennie, we guessed—and we are all so glad. It is about Richard.”