“Miss Florence,” she said, after a minute; “did Hamlet ever forgive Ophelia?”
“Why, don’t you know? She went mad and drowned herself,” said Flossy, cheerfully.
“I wonder how miserable anyone must be before they go mad!”
“Why,” said Florence, as she sat down and began to knit some bright wools together, quite ready for a lively discussion on the characters of the play. “I suppose no one would who had a well-balanced mind to begin with.”
“I am sure Rosa would not,” said Violante, thoughtfully.
“No, your sister looks like the last person to do anything so silly,” said Flossy, laughing.
“But when there are long years, and friends are cruel, and one has a hard fate, and there is nothing in the world that could happen to set it right—”
The deep, passionate trouble in her voice made Florence look up surprised: she was constantly puzzled by the mixture of ignorance and experience in this girl whose life had been so unlike her own.
“You know, Violante,” she said, “we are Christians, and so we must not despair.” Violante looked perplexed and thoughtful; yet the words had a meaning for her, for these weeks had been in one respect a period of development. She had from the first taken very kindly to the religious practices which were observed at Oxley Manor, and set to work to cure her deficiency in religious knowledge. Whether because she thought it was English, or because she wished to imitate Flossy, or from some blessed instinct leading her to what was for her good, she showed a love for going to church and for all sorts of Church teaching which the Miss Vennings were half-inclined to ascribe to novelty only. Many of the girls were under preparation for Confirmation, and she acquiesced eagerly in the suggestion that she should join their number. They were carefully taught by the Oxley clergy; and Flossy, who was an enthusiastic Sunday-school teacher, had delighted in explaining difficulties and doctrines to the little Italian. How much Violante comprehended intellectually may be doubtful, but she began to see better reasons for trying to do what was distasteful than the fear of being scolded, began to have some notion of abstract duties. This she was carefully taught; but it was surely no human words, but the blessing of God on her innocent humble spirit, that opened her loving heart to a new and Divine love. There dawned upon her the thought of a Friend who was with her when Rosa was away, who loved her when Hugh was cold. It was but a dim conception, but it had capabilities of growth. Hymns and texts were something more than words, and her endeavours to fulfil these new requirements had something of the fervour of enthusiasm. She used to forget the new comfort, let it be swept away in the tumult of exciting feeling; but when the thought came back it was like Rosa’s kiss when she was in trouble and disgrace. Flossy’s hint recalled it now, and she said, with childish directness:
“Because our Saviour loves us. Ah! I love Him very much!”