"I am going to study it—" said Rotha slowly; "and I am going to live by it."
"Are you? Have you decided that point?"
"Yes, ma'am. But I am not good yet, Mrs. Mowbray. I do not forgive aunt Serena. It feels to me as if there was a stone where my heart ought to be."
"Have you found that out?" said Mrs. Mowbray without shewing any surprise. "There is help, my child. Look, when you get home, at the thirty sixth chapter of Ezekiel—I cannot tell you what verse—and you will find it there."
They had no more talk until the carriage stopped at home. And Rotha had no chance then even to open her Bible, but must make herself immediately ready for dinner.
CHAPTER XVIII.
FLINT AND STEEL.
That Christmas dinner remained a point of delight in Rotha's memory for ever. The company was small, several of the young ladies having accepted invitations to dine with some friend or acquaintance. It was most agreeably small, to Rotha's apprehension, for she could see more of Mrs. Mowbray and more informally. Everybody was in gala dress and gala humour, nobody more than the mistress of the house; and she had done everything in her power to make the Christmas dinner a gala meal. Flowers and lights were in plenty; the roast turkey was followed by ices, confections and fruits, all of delicious quality; and Mrs. Mowbray's own kind and gracious ministry made everything doubly sweet. Rotha had besides such joy in her heart, that turkey and ices had never seemed so good in her life. The whole day had been rich, full, sweet, blessed; the girl had entered a new sphere where every want of her nature was met and contented; under such conditions the growth of a plant is rapid; and in a plant of humanity it is not only rapid but blissful.
Christmas joys were not done when the dinner was over. The girls who were present, and the one or two under teachers, repaired to the library, Mrs. Mowbray's special domain; and there she exerted herself unweariedly to give them a pleasant evening. Two of them sat down to a game of chess; two of them were allowed to look over some very rare and splendid books of engravings; one or two were deep in fancy work, and one or two amused themselves with a fine microscope. Rotha received her first introduction to the stereoscope. This was no novelty to the rest, and she was left in undisturbed enjoyment; free to look as long as she liked at any view that excited her interest. Which of them did not! At Rotha's age, with her mind just opening rapidly and her intellectual hunger great for all sorts of food, what were not the revelations of the stereoscope to her! Delight and wonder went beyond all power of words to describe them. And with delight and wonder started curiosity. Rotha's first view was a gorge in the Alps.
"Where is it?" she asked. And Mrs. Mowbray told her.