'No, you must not blame him,' she continued, beseechingly. 'Is he not bearing his own punishment? am I not bearing mine? Oh, it is dreadful!' her voice suddenly choked with strong emotion. 'Bodily sufferings I could have witnessed with far less misery than I feel at the spectacle of this helplessness and mental decay; to talk to dull ears, to arrest wandering thoughts, to listen hour after hour to confused rambling, Richard, this seems harder than anything.'
'If He—the Master I mean—fell under His cross, do we wonder that we at times sink under ours?' was the low, reverent answer. 'Ethel, I sometimes think how wonderful it will be to turn the page of suffering in another world, and, with eyes purified from earthly rheum, to spell out all the sacred meaning of the long trial that we considered so unbearable—nay, sometimes so unjust.'
Ethel did not trust herself to speak, but a grateful glance answered him. It was not the first time he had comforted her with words which had sunk deep into a subdued and softened heart. She was learning her lesson now, and the task was a hard one to poor passionate human flesh and blood. If what Richard said was true, she would not have a pang too many; the sorrowful moments would be numbered to her by the same Father, without whom not even a sparrow could fall to the ground. Could she not safely trust her father to Him?
'Richard, I am always praying to come down from my cross,' she said at last, looking up at the young clergyman with sweet humid eyes. 'And after all He has fastened us there with His own hands. I suppose it is faith and patience for which one should ask, and not only relief?'
'He will give that too in His own good time,' returned Richard, solemnly, and then, as was often the case, a short silence fell between them.
CHAPTER XXXVI
BERENGARIA
'I have led her home, my love, my only friend,
There is none like her, none.
And never yet so warmly ran my blood
And sweetly, on and on
Calming itself to the long-wished-for end,
Full to the banks, close on the promised good.