"Oh, that's all on the surface; and, if you'll notice, those who look happy one day are wretched enough the next. Yours was one of the happy faces yesterday, but it isn't to-day, my poor child."
Then, perceiving that his remark caused the hand which rested on his arm to tremble, while the eyes which had been raised to his suddenly fell and hid themselves under their long lashes, he said, "However, we will trust soon to see it as bright as ever. But they should not have brought you here. Catskill Mountain was a fitter place for your lively imagination and reflecting mind."
"Oh!" exclaimed Gertrude, imagining that Mr. Phillips suspected her to be smarting under some neglect, feeling of wounded pride, or, perhaps, serious injury, "you speak harshly; all are not selfish, all are not unkind."
"Ah! you are young, and full of faith. Trust whom you can, and as long as you can. I trust no one."
"No one! Are there none, then, in the whole world whom you love and confide in?"
"Scarcely; certainly not more than one. Whom should I trust?"
"The good, the pure, the truly great."
"And who are they? How shall we distinguish them? I tell you, my young friend, that in my experience—and it has been rich, ay, very rich"—and he set his teeth and spoke with bitterness—"the so-called good, the honourable, the upright man, has proved but the varnished hypocrite, the highly finished and polished sinner. Yes," continued he, his voice growing deeper, his manner more excited, "I can think of one, a respectable man, a church-member, whose injustice and cruelty made my life what it has been—a desert, a blank, or worse than that; and I can think of another, an old, rough, intemperate sailor, over whose head a day never passed that he did not take the name of his God in vain, yet had at the bottom of his heart a drop of such pure, unsullied essence of virtue as could not be distilled from the souls of ten thousand of your polished rogues. Which, then, shall I trust—the good religious men, or the low, profane, and abject ones?"
"Trust in goodness, wherever it be found," answered Gertrude; "but oh, trust all rather than none."
"Your world, your religion, draws a closer line. You are a good child, and full of hope and charity," said Mr. Phillips, pressing her arm closely to his side. "I will try and have faith in you. But see! our friends have returned from the concert."