"Do not refuse; I am an old man, and very harmless. Take a seat here under this tree, and tell me what you think of the prospect."
Gertrude smiled inwardly at the idea of his being such an old man, and calling her a child; but, old or young, she had it not in her heart to fear him, or refuse his request. She sat down, and he seated himself beside her, but did not speak of the prospect, or of anything, for a moment or two; then turning to her abruptly, he said, "So you never were unhappy in your life?"
"Never?" exclaimed Gertrude. "Oh, yes; often."
"But never long?"
"Yes, I can remember whole years when happiness was a thing I had never even dreamed of."
"But comfort came at last. What do you think of those to whom it never comes?"
"I know enough of sorrow to pity and wish to help them."
"What can you do for them?"
"Hope for them—pray for them!" said Gertrude, with a voice full of feeling.
"What if they be past hope—beyond the influence of prayer?"