“I am so glad!”
“You were right. He is as clear as he is kind,” said Flora; “he showed me that, for George’s sake, I must bear with my present life, and do the best I can with it, unless some leading comes for an escape; and that the glare, and weariness, and being spoken well of, must be taken as punishment for having sought after these things.”
“I was afraid he would say so,” said Ethel. “But you will find happiness again, Flora dear.”
“Scarcely—before I come to Margaret and to my child,” sighed Flora. “I suppose it was Mercy that would not let me follow when I wished it. I must work till the time of rest comes!”
“And your own little Margaret will cheer you!” said Ethel, more hopefully, as she saw Flora bend over her baby with a face that might one day be bright.
She trusted that patient continuance in well-doing would one day win peace and joy, even in the dreary world that poor Flora had chosen.
For her own part, Ethel found Flora’s practical good sense and sympathy very useful, in her present need of the counsel she had always had from Margaret.
The visit to Flora lasted a fortnight, and Ethel was much benefited by the leisure for reading and the repose after the long nursing; though, before the end, her refreshed energies began to pine for Daisy and her hymns, for Aubrey and his Virgil, for Cherry and her scholars, and, above all, for her father; for, come as often as he would, it was not papa at home.
On the other hand, Mary was at a loss for Ethel every hour; Richard was putting off his affairs till Ethel should come home; Miss Bracy and Blanche longed for her to relieve the schoolroom from the children; Aubrey could not perform a lesson in comfort with any one else—never ended a sum without groaning for Ethel, and sometimes rode to Abbotstoke for the mere purpose of appealing to her; in short, no one could get on without her, and the doctor least of all.
Dr. Spencer, and Mr. Wilmot, and all his sons and daughters, had done their best for him; but, in spite of his satisfaction at seeing the two sisters so happy together, he could not help missing Ethel every minute, as the very light of his home; and when, at last, Flora brought her back, she was received with uproarious joy by Aubrey and Daisy, while the rest of the household felt a revival and refreshment of spirits—the first drawing aside of the cloud that had hung over the winter. The pearl of their home might be missed every hour, but they could thankfully rest in the trust that she was a jewel stored up in safety and peace, to shine as a star for evermore.