"Oh, but it was only that once!" replied Nelly, with a fresh burst of weeping. "He went away so soon after that there was not another opportunity. But I might have served him often, and now it is too late. He is gone from me—my father—and I did not love and value him whilst I had him!"
Aldyth did not attempt to check her tears. She felt that words could not soothe such grief as this. The thought that she had failed in her duty towards her father would long sting poor Nelly's heart; but the pain might be salutary; from it might spring the "peaceable fruit" of love and care for others.
After a pause, Aldyth said—
"Nelly, I am reminded of some words I read a while ago. I think they were Richter's, and to this effect, that the most beautiful wreath we can lay on the grave of our dead is woven of good deeds done to others. We should remember that now. We cannot undo the past; we cannot recall the lost opportunity or the careless word; but we can endeavour to show all the love and kindness in our power to those who still remain with us."
"I will try to be good," faltered Nelly; "but I have such a temper, and mamma and Gladys irritate me so."
"It is never easy to conquer oneself," said Aldyth; "but the victory is worth all the pains. And we have not to fight alone. There is One who will help us, if we put our trust in Him."
They went to their room, and Aldyth helped Nelly, who was quite worn out with the excitements of the day, to undress, and saw her into bed, where she fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. Aldyth, too, was tired; but after she had extinguished the light she knelt long in the darkness ere she lay down to rest.
When Aldyth woke the next morning, she felt as if Woodham, Wyndham, the events of yesterday, were all removed to a great distance. The things which a few hours before had been of interest to her now seemed of no importance. Her mind was filled with the thought of her mother's great sorrow, and how she might best help and comfort her.
As soon as she knew that her mother was awake, she went to her room, and was received with a demonstrative affection for which she was hardly prepared.
"Thank God you are come, darling!" said Mrs. Stanton, embracing her. "I want you now, my eldest daughter! I have no one to lean on but you. My husband, my home, everything is taken from me."