"Nothing, dear aunt Prudence? I am very sure it can be no trifle that moves you so. My dear aunt, we two are all alone in the world; surely, you will not refuse me a share in your confidence."
"Go away, Ella! I told you it was nothing; can't you believe me?" replied Miss Prudence, angrily.
Seeing that it would be useless to press the matter farther at that time, Ella left her aunt, and set about getting tea, her mind all the time occupied with conjectures as to what might be the cause of Miss Prudence's trouble. Miss Prudence had never made a profession of religion, but she often boasted that she was "quite as good as any member of the church, and a great deal better than some of them; for she read a chapter in the Bible every day, and went regularly to church twice every Sabbath, rain or shine, which was more than some of the members did. She was a good neighbour, kind to the poor, never cheated anybody in her life, and always tried to do as near right as she could; and so she thought she had about as good a chance of going to Heaven as any of the rest." Indeed, she was very much like the Pharisee who prayed: "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are; unjust, extortioners, nor even as this publican."
Ella had offered up many fervent prayers on her aunt's behalf, that she might be led to see upon what a broken reed she was leaning; that God would open the eyes of her understanding, that she might become sensible how entirely without merit were her very best deeds, yea, even needing to be forgiven, hateful in the sight of God, because not done from any desire to glorify him, but from entirely selfish motives; and that seeing these things to be so, and how utterly helpless and undone she was, she might be led to lay hold upon the hope set before her, and accept of Jesus Christ as he is freely offered in the gospel, trusting in his merits alone for salvation. Could it be that her prayers were about to be answered? She felt a faint hope that it might indeed be so. The evening passed in almost total silence, for though Miss Prudence seemed restless and ill at ease, she was not disposed to talk, but appeared to be occupied with her own thoughts. Ella was wearied with the labours of the day, and had been nodding over her sewing for some minutes, when the clock struck nine.
"You had better go to bed, Ella," said Miss Prudence. "There is no use in trying to sew, when you can't keep your eyes open."
"I believe I might as well," replied Ella, folding up her work; "but you will go too, aunt Prudence, won't you?"
"No; it's no use, for I couldn't sleep," said Miss Clinton, leaning her head upon her hand, with a heavy sigh.
"Do your limbs pain you worse than usual to-night, aunt?" asked Ella.
"No, child, they're easy enough at present; but bodily pain is not always the hardest to bear."