Why should he who had already so troubled my life enjoy success and gold which should have been mine? [{322}] "O mother, mother!" I inwardly cried, "how much would the price of this picture have done for you!" And I thought of her yearnings for the scent of sea spray, and the taste of sea breath, which the scanty purse forbade to be satisfied.
I sought Hessie, and found her sitting alone and very pale. I said, "Come home, Hessie;" and she followed me, obeying like a child.
When we reached our house, I was thankful that my mother slept upon the couch, for I needed a time to calm myself, and think and pray. I threw away my bonnet, and sat down by our bedside. Hessie came and crept to my feet.
"Grace," she sobbed, "can you ever forgive me? I gave him the sketch; but I declare on my knees that I did not know why he wanted it."
For a moment I felt very harsh and stern, but my woman's nature conquered. What were all the pictures in the world compared with my little sister's grief? I bent over her, and wiped away the tears from her face.
"Don't say any more about it, Hessie," I said; "I'd rather not hear any more. I know that you meant to do me no wrong. It is with him that the injustice lies. But, Hessie, I will only ask you one question: Can you—do you think you ought to waste a regret on such a person?"
Hessie dried up her tears with more resolution than I had ever seen her show before, and answered:
"No, no, Grace dear; I am cured now."
And then she put her arms about my neck, asking my pardon for all her past wilful conduct; and in one long embrace all the estrangement was swept away, and we two sisters were restored to one another. Hessie went off to get tea ready with a cheerful step, and I to make the room cosy and kiss my mother awake, when the fire glowed and the pleasant meal was on the table. We both sat by her with bright faces, and told her all about the pictures we could remember; all except one.