A gentle grasp was laid upon the shoulder of the mourner; and she looked up into the dark expressive face of her deformed sister.
She too had her tale of sorrow. Their mother was dead, but her end was peaceful and full of humble hope, and Mary, the pious Mary, could not wish her back. She had no home now,—she had come to share the home of her more fortunate sister. At first, she could not comprehend the cause of Sophy's tears, of her deep distress; for the news of Noah Cotton's arrest and death had not reached her, while in close attendance upon the obscure death-bed of her mother.
What a mournful history Sophy had to tell; and how deeply Mary sympathised in all her afflictions! Left in comfortable and even affluent circumstances, (for the lawyer employed to wind up Noah Cotton's affairs found that he had large sums invested in several banks, and all his property was willed to his wife,) Sophy was no longer haunted by the dread of poverty, but she often was heard to say with a sigh, that poverty, though a great evil, was not the greatest she had had to contend with; that much as she had in former days murmured over her humble lot while working for daily bread, she was far happier than in the possession of wealth, that had been acquired by dishonest means, and which might emphatically be called The wages of sin! "A little that the righteous hath, is better than great riches of the ungodly."
CHAPTER XXIII.
TRUST IN GOD.
A few words more, and my tale is ended.
The death of Noah Cotton, fraught as it was with agony to his wife, was the means of rescuing the child of his first love, Ella Carlos, from ruin—the little girl, whose striking likeness to her mother had made such an impression on the mind of her unfortunate and guilty lover. After the death of Sir Walter Carlos, who was the last of his name, and, saving the young Ella Manners, his sister's orphan child, the last of his race, the estate at F—— was sold to pay his debts, and the noble property, that had been for several ages in the family, passed into the hands of strangers. The young Ella, left dependent upon the charity of an aunt of her fathers, married the curate of a small parish not many miles from H——, in the county of S——. The match was one of pure affection; the beautiful young girl brought no fortune to her husband. Mr. Grant's income was less than 150l. per annum; but in the eyes of love, it seemed sufficient for all their wants. Several years passed away, and the young couple, though obliged to dispense with most of the luxuries of life, did not repent the imprudent step they had taken.
Ella was the happy mother of three fine children, and she nearly doubled her husband's slender income by teaching a small but select school. At length the day of trial came. Mr. Grant was taken ill, and was obliged to relinquish his parochial duties. Ella's time was devoted entirely to her sick husband. The school was broken up, and after a long and severe affliction, which consumed all their little savings, the curate died deeply regretted by his flock, by whom he was justly beloved; and such was the poverty of his circumstances, that his funeral, and decent mourning for his wife and children, were furnished by subscription. After the melancholy rite was over, the widow found herself and her young children utterly destitute.
"I have hands to work—I must not despair," said she, as she divided the last morsel of bread she had among the children, reserving none for herself; "I have trusted in God all my life, and though it has come to this, I will trust in His mercy yet."