“You know that feeling? Well, there have been some things in myself which I rather wonder at now; some things that I would not do now. I once struck my husband.”
“Once!” thought Annie in amazement.
“And I think I may have been too peremptory with the children. There was nobody then to lead me to discover such things as I do when I am with you; and I believe now that if I were at home again—I hope—I think—”
“What will you do if it pleases God to restore you to your home?”
“Why, I have been told that they were afraid of me at home. Heaven knows why! for I should have thought that pompous, heartless, rigid, tyrannical wretch, my husband, was the one to be afraid of; and not a warm-hearted creature like me.”
“Perhaps they were afraid of him too.”
“O yes, to be sure; and that is why I am here. But they need not have cared for anything I say under an impulse. They might have known that I love people when they do me justice. That, I own, I cannot dispense with. I must have justice. But if people give me my due, I am ready enough to love them.”
“And how will you do differently now, if you get home?”
“I think I would be more dignified than I sometimes have been. I would rely more upon myself. I may have encouraged my enemies by letting them see how they could wound my sensitive feelings. I should not have been so ill-treated by the whole world if I had not made some mistake of that kind. I would rely more on myself, and let them see that they could not touch my peace. Would not that be right?”
“Certainly; by your having a peace which they could not touch.”