"Not if it is God's will," gently answered her mother. "It would be hard to think of you without me; but, Ada, my child, do not cry about it now; tell it all to God. He knows best, my dear."
Kissing her again, Mrs. Arundel tucked her up smoothed her hair, wiped away her tears, and turned to the dressing-table.
Ada jumped out of bed, and gave her the glycerine, and with one more kiss jumped in again, and buried her head far beneath the clothes.
If she fought a hard battle there with her anxious fears, there was One knew it; and if she came off victorious and at rest, there was One who proved Himself, as He has so often done before, "a refuge from the storm; a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall."
[CHAPTER II.]
A PEEP AT CHRISTINA.
IT may be remembered that Christina Arbuthnot was an orphan. She had met the Arundels rather more than a year before this at the sea-side, and had become very intimate with them; and eventually she had accepted Dr. Arundel's eldest son, who was now in India.
She had been left by her father in comfortable circumstances, and had intended to devote her life to bringing up little friendless orphans to usefulness and happiness.