I could not help laughing—we were having a real drama in the kitchen. Great tears had gathered in Clara's eyes, and I said to her:
"Now this will upset you. I'm sorry you heard it."
"No, no," she said, "but the poor lamb, I can hardly wait for the time when I may see her."
"Can you ever speak to Mr. Benton again?" I said to mother.
"I should hope so, Emily. I feel great pity for him; he might be a better man. We are taught toleration not of principles, but certainly of men, and I think if our Heavenly Father will forgive him, we can afford to, and then it would be very unwise to let him know we are cognizant of this."
My mother reminded me so many times of the light that burns steadily in a light-house on a ledge. The waves, washing the solid rock, and wearing even the stone at its base, have no power to disturb the lamp, which, well trimmed, burns silently on, throwing its beams far out to sea, and fanning hope in the heart of the sailor, who finds at last the shore and blesses the beacon light.
I admired her calm and steadfast trust in the truth, that bore her along in her daily doing right toward all with whom she mingled, but I well knew she would be righteously indignant toward Mr. Benton, and also that the whole truth, with the letter and the story of "the lamb," would soon be forthcoming. I could hardly wait for the recital which I expected to hear in the afternoon, and entered Mrs. Goodwin's door at three o'clock precisely.
She was glad to see me, and said cheerily:
"Take off your things, Emily, and I'll show you right in, for Miss Harris is waiting anxiously."
I thought she looked beautiful the night we found her, but to-day she was a marvellous picture, sitting among the white pillows. Her cheeks were touched here and there with pink, as if rose leaves had left their tender stain—her eyes beautifully bright, and such depths of blue, with arched brows above them, and long brown lashes for a shield. Her hair rippled over her shoulders in brown curls, and around her was thrown the light India shawl she had about her on that sad night. She smiled with pleasure as I entered, and beckoned me to her bedside, while Mrs. Goodwin said: