"No; I am glad you came. I was listening to cold, bitter, bitter thoughts. Sit down, Clara; you look fatigued."
"Oh, Beulah! I am weary in body and spirit; I have no energy; my very existence is a burden to me."
"Clara, it is weak to talk so. Rouse yourself, and fulfill the destiny for which you were created."
"I have no destiny but that of loneliness and misery."
"Our situations are similar, yet I never repine as you do."
"You have not the same cause. You are self-reliant; need no society to conduce to your happiness; your heart is bound up in your books."
"Where yours had better have been," answered Beulah. She walked across the floor several times, then said impressively, as she threw her arm round Clara's waist:
"Crush it; crush it; if you crush your heart in the effort."
A moan escaped Clara's lips, and she hid her face against her friend's shoulder.
"I have known it since the night of your grandfather's death. If you want to be happy and useful, crush it out of your heart."