"I have indulged my old habit of fretfulness a good deal to-day, mother," she said, as Mrs. Gardner sat down by her side, after making everything ready for the night. "I fear I shall never correct it; but I did not think of this sick bed when I made my resolution."
"Has not God promised to be 'about your bed, and about your path,' my dear child?" said Mrs. Gardner.
"Yes, mother; and could I but remember his presence, I should not so often grieve you by my impatience."
"You must not talk any more tonight, Isabella," said her mother affectionately; "but try to go to sleep, and remember that God is always near you, and that his Holy Spirit is more grieved than even your mother by any disobedience to his commands. I love you, and forgive you. Now go to sleep, and may you awake refreshed in body and soul."
Mary nursed her sister night and day, and never left her except when Mrs. Gardner insisted upon her going away to rest herself. Isabella was often impatient toward her, but Mary quietly went on treating her with more and more tenderness. She scarcely spoke, but humbly and silently went on doing everything a sister's love could suggest.
"I wish you would speak cross to me sometimes," said Isabella to her one day, "and then I should not feel so sorry after I had been unkind to you; but you are so patient and good, that it makes me quite ashamed of my fretfulness."
"I will do anything for you but that, Isabella," said Mary; "but it is my constant prayer that my Saviour may grant me the temper of mind that becometh his disciple, and that I may 'sin not with my lips' against him."
Isabella became rapidly worse, and the sorrowful countenance of her father, and the anxious tenderness of her mother, showed how dear their erring child was to their hearts.
Edward would come home early from school to know how his sister was, and to see if there was anything he could do for her; and the merry voice of little George was still, and no one heard the sound of his ball or top.
It was a house of sadness, but of composure,—a house of Christian sorrow! Trouble had entered it; but its inmates felt that the trouble came from a Father's hand, and that they should have no more than He who knew them best, and loved them best, saw was for their good. They felt their Saviour's presence, and rested upon his words, "My grace is sufficient for thee."