'Yes, I know. I like to listen to you, though I wish you were less convincing. My own life always looks a poor, dreary, selfish one, filled with perils I've no courage to face, and my longing to be braver always frets me, after I have heard some of your sermonettes, child. If great misery or suffering were to overwhelm me to-morrow, I don't know what I should do!'
'You would lay your burden upon the Saviour, would you not, you darling?'
'How could I, after ignoring His existence so long as my life was placid. Certainly He must be generous, or He would send trials at once to test me, and to prove His power.'
'If He did, it would only be in His mercy, in order to expose you to the influence without which you will not seek the only lasting happiness.'
Mrs. Arderne sighed.
'I will turn over a new leaf; you shall help me, dear. I have been very much worried of late, because my husband wants me to rejoin him soon in India, and I don't want to go out there. My babes must stay in England. I will not have their health injured, perhaps permanently, by my selfish longing to keep them with me; and how can I bear to part from the darlings?'
There was a tremor in the mother's voice.
Catherine clasped the little woman in her arms, and laid her cheek against her face.
'Oh, you might have told me sooner of your anxiety! Would it not have been easier to bear, if you had told some one, even me, who would have sympathised?'
'I knew you would say I must go. It is my duty, I admit. Henry has let me have a long holiday trip—first to Australia, now to England. I have seen all my friends and relatives, and recovered my own health. With the exception that it is terribly hard to leave my children, there is not the slightest excuse for me to stay here.'