"You must not despair yet. Much worse persons than you have developed into saints ultimately, if we can trust the calendar."
I smiled, although discomfited. "I wish you would try to be good with me. I am sure I would find it easier."
"Goodness too easily acquired is not apt to be of a very high quality. Better fight your own battles and gain your victories all by yourself," he said, with a smile as he left us for his study. My head was aching so severely that I concluded to try the effect of rest and sleep, to bring back my usual freedom from pain.
CHAPTER XXVI.
FROM THE DEPTHS.
The next day was a wild, drifting storm. My first waking thought in the early morning was the unpleasant one that my promised visit to Mrs. Le Grande must be made during the day. When I raised my head from the pillow the pain was even more severe than on the previous evening, and a dizzy faintness seized me when I tried to rise. I was so unaccustomed to sickness I had not learned the happy art of accepting patiently its behests; so, after a few more efforts, I succeeded in dressing myself. I went to the window and, on looking out, was greatly relieved to see huge drifts piled between us and the outside world, which promised at least one day's blockade unless Thomas and Samuel worked much harder than their wont.
I put in an appearance at the breakfast table, although the sight of food was exceedingly repugnant, and made a pretence to eat what was placed before me. Mr. Winthrop very cheerfully announced that I was certainly a prisoner for that day—an announcement I received with perfect indifference—the mere thought of facing the outside world as I then felt made me shudder. Probably he was surprised that I took with such extreme calmness my temporary imprisonment; for he asked if I enjoyed being snow-bound.
"I do, to-day," I answered unthinkingly.
"You must have some special reason for such a state of mind."