“Hush, Fred! Don’t cry like that,” said Selina, crying herself, but more gently. “Think how well she is, and how satisfied. And papa may come home; but I don’t think he will: I think he will go to mama. He has had all this long time to think, and to be sorry. And Jesus loves him too. He gave Himself for him.”
“Oh! Lena! Lena!” was all that Frederica could say.
“And, darling, think how glad mama will be! and nothing shall grieve them any more. We shall be with them there; and you may go very soon, for you are not strong.”
Frederica was startled by her sister’s words.
“No. I am not strong: but to die! Lena, I must not die. I must live to take care of you all. Oh! what a foolish girl I am! As though I could do anything!” and her tears fell fast as her sister tried to soothe her.
“And, Lena, I would not like to die yet, even to see mama. I am not good like you.”
“Hush, dear. I think God will let you live to take care of us all. And you are not to cry any more to-night. For indeed, except that you are weak and tired, there is no cause.”
But Frederica was weak in body and mind, and cried herself to sleep, and Miss Agnace saw with anxiety her flushed wet cheeks when she came in.
“I almost wish she might have her desire, and go away to England,” said she as she stood looking at her. “She needs something to rouse and interest her. But perhaps Madame’s plan for her would be best.”
“What is her plan?” asked Selina quickly. “My child, Madame has given me no authority to speak of any plan of hers. But I wish there could come a change of some kind for this poor Miss Frederica.”