"Nothing could be worse. Dr. Fowler said he didn't know when I should be able to do my work again."
"I believe good will come out of the evil. In the enforced quietude you will have time for thought, and you will see how, in attempting what is beyond your strength, you have made a fatal mistake. But your head is aching too much to talk now. Try to go to sleep, and presently I will bring you up a cup of tea."
And then as her mother turned to go, the truth flashed upon her. What she had considered unselfishness and noble sacrifice of self, had been utter selfishness and indulgence in self-glorification. The incident connected with Robert returned to her memory. The same thing had underlain every action since her father went. She had certainly taught her brothers and sisters, and with unhoped-for success. But what had been her motive for that work, for toiling so hard at her story-writing, and for going up for the examination? It was not for the good of others. It had been that she might think well of herself and should stand well in the opinion of her friends and relations. It had been for her own self-glory, self-praise, self-satisfaction; for that and nothing more.
And how low an object is self, none knew better than Dora. If she had been more ignorant, her distress would not have been so great. As she lay thinking in the cool, darkened room, she recollected what her mother had said on that evening, many months ago, when they had talked in the quiet sitting room by firelight.
"In proportion to the light that has been given you, so will you be expected to mould your life."
Then she remembered those far more solemn words which, having been once spoken, are spoken for all ages:
"'And that servant which knew his Lord's will and prepared not himself, neither did according to His will, shall be beaten with many stripes.'"
Yes, indeed, that did apply to her. A little reflection, a little serious self-examination, and she would have seen her mistake long ago. Now it was too late. She who had hoped to stand at the head of the list in the fulfilment of the trust received from her father, and in the promise he had asked of all his children, would be last of all. Poor Dora! Within and without all was darkness and despair to her that day.
But the rest and invalid life of the next week did her so much good physically that, at the end of that time, she took a much less gloomy view of the future. In her ample leisure for quiet thought she saw, too, she had no cause to despair. True, that instead of relieving her mother of care, she had brought more trouble upon her; for not only was her present ill-health a great anxiety, but by the persistent following out of her own inclinations, she must have given her constant uneasiness during the past months. But, by God's help, she would profit by the mistake she had made, and for the future, love of others, not of self, should be the motive power to influence her actions.
Meantime it was her duty to try to get well, and she found it a far harder task than she had anticipated.