"Then there is no harm in being happy?" said Amy; "but I will try to be so to myself, though I should like you to smile too; but, perhaps, you will when you see them quite settled at Emmerton."
"I hope every one will be reconciled to the loss in time," replied Mrs Herbert; "and, perhaps, Amy, it will be a greater pleasure to me, by and by, to know that your uncle is so near than it will be to you."
"Oh mamma! how can that be? you know you are so much older; and you always tell me that grown-up people do not enjoy things so much as children."
"But supposing, my dear, that your cousins' being at Emmerton should make you envious and discontented with your own home, you would not be happy then?"
For a few moments Amy did not speak; a grave expression came over her face; and, allowing her breakfast to remain untouched, she sat apparently deep in thought. At last she said, "Mamma, people must be very unhappy when they are envious."
"Yes, indeed they must," replied Mrs Herbert; "for they are always longing for things which God has not chosen to give them, and are unthankful for those which they possess; besides, they often dislike the persons whom they fancy more blessed than themselves."
"And should you love me, mamma, if I were envious?" continued Amy, looking intently at her mother as she spoke.
"It would be a dreadful thing indeed, my love, which would prevent me from loving you; but I should be very, very sorry to see you so."
Again Amy was silent, and began eating her breakfast hastily; but it seemed an effort, and Mrs Herbert presently saw that the tears were fast rolling down her cheeks.
"Amy, my dear child, what is the matter?" she exclaimed.