"I do not wish you to forgive yourself just yet, my dear child," replied her mother, not refusing the kiss Caroline's eyes so earnestly besought. "Your fault has been such an aggravated one, that I fear it must cause you many days of remorse, the most painful kind of suffering which error can bring; but do not try to shake it off; I would rather see you endure it, and not expect happiness for a few days. You know where to seek the only source which can bring peace and comfort, and you must endeavor by earnest prayer to strengthen yourself for the conflict you have so often to encounter. You have a very difficult task, my poor child, that I know; and, therefore, do I so try to provide you with a guard and help."
"If I could but conquer it at first," answered Caroline, whose violent excitement had given way to tears of real repentance; "but at first it seems almost a pleasure to me to be cross to every body, and answer pettishly, and as if it were pleasanter to encourage disagreeable thoughts than to read or do any thing that would remove them. And then, when I would give any thing to escape from them, it seems every body's fault but my own, and I can not."
"If you accustomed yourself constantly to pray against this great fault, my dear child, you would find, that its very first approach would so startle you, that you would use every energy to subdue it. But I fear, it is only when temper has made you miserable, as it has to-day, that you are quite aware of its enormity. You do not think the fault great enough to demand the watchfulness and care without which it never will be subdued."
"I am afraid I do not indeed, mamma. I know I do not make it a subject of prayer, as you have so often advised me, except when every thing looks so black, and I am so miserable; and then, I fear, I ask more to be happy again, than for forgiveness of my sin, and for grace and strength to overcome it. I never felt this to be the case so strongly as to-day, but your coldness seems to have shown me my whole self, and I never thought I was so wicked, and so I must be miserable."
Mrs. Hamilton involuntarily drew her child more closely to her. The humility, the bitterness of self-reproach, was so unlike Caroline's usual haughtiness—so very much deeper than they had ever been before, that she hoped, in spite of her anxiety, and her voice audibly trembled as she answered—
"If you really feel this, my Caroline, you will not hesitate to follow my advice, and really pray and watch against this unhappy temper, even when every thing is so smooth and happy, that you can not imagine why you need. Sin always gains ascendency by using pleasure as his covering. Do not let a single cross word, or momentary unkind thought, pass unnoticed; never cease in your petition for grace and strength, but do not be content with only prayer; you must use effort as well, and if your thoughts will be black, and you feel as if you could not conquer them by yourself, nor banish them even by your favorite employments, come to me, confess them without fear or hesitation to me, and let us try if we can not conquer them together. Will you promise me to try this plan, Caroline?"
Caroline could not reply, for every kind word her mother spoke, seemed to heighten self-reproach, and make her still more wretched. Mrs. Hamilton felt that there was no refusal in her silence, and continued talking to her in that same gentle strain a little while longer, and then rose to leave her—but Caroline looked so sorrowful that she hesitated.
"No, mamma, I do not deserve that you should stay with me, and so deprive Emmeline and Ellen, and the boys of their favorite hour," she said, though the tears started again to her eyes, for she felt as if it would be an indescribable comfort still to be alone with her mother. "I am too unhappy and too ashamed to join them, if I may remain away?" Mrs. Hamilton answered in the affirmative. "I have not a thing prepared for to-morrow, and—and I do not—indeed, I do not mean to give you any more trouble with my studies. I hate myself for that, too."
"Do not attempt to study to-night, my dear Caroline; get up a little earlier to-morrow, to be ready for me, if you like; but though it will be much more painful to you to remain idle the remainder of this evening than to employ yourself, even with the most disagreeable task, I would much rather you should do so. Once let temper be quite subdued, and your heart receive its necessary government, and I have no fear but that you will very quickly make up for lost time; and even if you did not, believe me, my dear child, the graces of the mind, precious as in general they are considered, and as they are, still are to me actually nothing worth, if unaccompanied by a gentle temper and womanly heart. Do not shrink from the suffering which it will be to sit alone and think on all that has passed to-day; but let your remorse be accompanied by a resolution (which you are quite capable of not only forming, but of keeping) not to rest till by prayer and effort you have sought God's blessing on your difficult task, and so feel strengthened for its fulfillment; and also for persevering in it, for you must not hope to succeed in subduing yourself all at once. Do this, and I shall be better pleased than if to-morrow morning you brought me a treble quantity of mental work."
She embraced and left her—to meditations, from whose bitter, though salutary pain, Caroline made no attempt to escape; though, had it not been for her mother's advice, she would gladly have flown to her studies, and worked with double assiduity, believing that she was, by doing so, atoning for her fault, instead of merely shrinking from its remembrance. It was a trial to join her family even for prayers; for she felt so self-convicted, so humbled, that she fancied every one must despise her; and when, after the service, Percy approached, and, with mock sympathy, inquired how her headache was, and if she had recovered her appetite, and begged her not to be ill at such a critical time, as he most particularly wished to go to Lady Helen's ball, and he could not be so cruel, if she were not well, her spirit was so broken that the large tears rolled down her cheeks, and she turned away without uttering a single word.