One after another of the joyous new years rushed into the world, passing on to maturity, growing older, and finally passing out, leaving the gentle, submissive girl, as they had found her, devoting herself to her father.
Now disease had settled on Mr. Lyle. For years he had been an invalid, nervous, fretful and impatient. No one but Constance could suit him. Not even his wife. Her gentle hand, only, could soothe his suffering. Her soft, loving tones alone would quiet his paroxysm of nervousness.
Time passed on, and Death entered the home of Constance, not to disturb the long-suffering father, but taking the apparently healthy mother. Swiftly, quietly, and without suffering, she passed from her slumbers to the home of her Maker.
This was a terrible trial for the poor girl. She almost sank under it; but in a little while she rose above her own sorrows. Bowing with submission to the will of God, she now felt why it was her young hopes had been blasted. Before, all was dark; now, she saw plainly. She alone was left to cheer and solace the stricken father. No longer a single regret lingered in her heart. All was well. A holy calm broke over her, and she became almost happy, blessed with an approving conscience.
Suffering at last softened the stern nature of Mr. Lyle, and opened his eyes to the value of his child. He knew her devotion, her patient, untiring attendance on him, and he felt what a blessed boon she had been to him, and how illy he had merited so much loving kindness!
On one occasion he said:
"My daughter, I do not deserve such a blessing as you are to me. I have been very harsh and relentless, and caused you much sorrow; would that I could call back the past, and act differently. Heaven only knows how grieved I am for my mistaken views and actions."
Going up, and putting her arms around him, she replied:
"Do not worry about the past, father dear, nor about your daughter. Believe me, I am happy with you; and have no regrets. I would not be absent from you during your suffering, even to be with him."
"Where is Ernest? Do you love him still?" he asked.