"And sorrow too finds some relief
In tears which wait upon our grief."
I stood in the middle of the room perfectly confounded, and was hesitating whether I ought not to run home for Frank, when hearing a distant door shut she started up, throwing her arms around my neck, and said hurriedly, "Dear sister, don't look so very sad. It has been a hard struggle; but it is almost over. I seldom give way as I have done now; that is too great a luxury to be indulged in often."
"At times e'en bitter tears yield sweet relief."
She turned to leave me; but I persisted in following her to her room. We sat down after I had closed the door. Turning from our late subject, she began to say something in a careless tone.
"Don't, Emily, don't speak so, that makes me feel worse than anything."
"Cora," she exclaimed in an excited tone, as unlike the other, as if she were a different person, "Cora, what do you think you should do, if after all the years you've loved Frank, you should suddenly find out some day, you were committing sin every moment you continued to love him? Supposing you should some day find out he had another wife?"
"Oh! sister," I answered, "I should die, I couldn't help loving Frank."
"No, that would be too easy; I'll tell you what you should do," drawing herself up to her full height, and looking almost like a queen. "You must tear up your love by the roots; you must never allow one tender thought of him. Drive them out. Drive them away! You must keep saying to yourself, 'It is sin against God! It is sin against my own soul!' Night and day you must do this."