"I don't see why," I said.
"Very few girls of your age would give up their whole time as you do to such work."
"That is because very few girls are as fond of children as I am.
There is no virtue in doing exactly what one likes best to do."
"There, go away, you contrary child," said mother, laughing. "If you won't be praised, you won't."
So I came up here and moped a little. I don't see what ails me.
But there is an under-current of peace that is not entirely disturbed by any outside event. In spite of my follies and my shortcomings, I do believe that God loves and pities me, and will yet perfect that which concerneth me. It is a great mystery. But so is everything.
Dr. Elliott to Mrs. Crofton:
And now, my dear friend, having issued my usual bulletin of health, you may feel quite at ease about your dear children, and I come to a point in your letter which I would gladly pass over in silence. But this would be but a poor return for the interest you express in my affairs.
Both ladies are devoted to your little flock, and Miss Mortimer seems not to have a thought but for them. The high opinion I formed of her at the outset is more than justified by all I see of her daily, household life. I know what her faults are, for she seems to take delight in revealing them. But I also know her rare virtues, and what a wealth of affection she has to bestow on the man who is so happy as to win her heart. But I shall never be that man. Her growing aversion to me makes me dread a summons to your house, and I have hardly manliness enough to conceal the pain this gives me. I entreat you, therefore, never again to press this subject upon me. After all, I would not, if I could, dispense with the ministry of disappointment and unrest.
Mrs. Crofton, in reply: