"My dear Miss Cameron, do you call becoming a nun--repentance? We Protestants know very well what that means. Besides, your uncle does not believe it.""Haven't you found out yet, dear Mrs. Elton, what my uncle's favourite phrase is?""No. What is it?"
"I don't believe it."
"You naughty girl!"
"I'm not naughty," answered Euphra, affecting to imitate the simplicity of a chidden child. "My uncle is so fond of casting doubt upon everything! If salvation goes by quantity, his faith won't save him."Euphra knew well enough that Mrs. Elton was no tell-tale. The good lady had hopes of her from this moment, because she all but quoted Scripture to condemn her uncle; the verdict corresponding with her own judgment of Mr. Arnold, founded on the clearest assertions of Scripture; strengthened somewhat, it must be confessed, by the fact that the spirits, on the preceding evening but one, had rapped out the sentence: "Without faith it is impossible to please him."Lady Emily was still in bed, but apparently more sick in mind than in body. She said she had tossed about all the previous night without once falling asleep; and her maid, who had slept in the dressing-room without waking once, corroborated the assertion. In the morning, Mrs. Elton, wishing to relieve the maid, sent Margaret to Lady Emily. Margaret arranged the bedclothes and pillows, which were in a very uncomfortable condition, sat down behind the curtain;and, knowing that it would please Lady Emily, began to sing, in what the French call a, veiled voice, The Land o' the Leal. Now the air of this lovely song is the same as that of Scots wha hae; but it is the pibroch of onset changed into the coronach of repose, singing of the land beyond the battle, of the entering in of those who have fought the good fight, and fallen in the field. It is the silence after the thunder. Before she had finished, Lady Emily was fast asleep. A sweet peaceful half smile lighted her troubled face graciously, like the sunshine that creeps out when it can, amidst the rain of an autumn day, saying, "I am with you still, though we are all troubled." Finding her thus at rest, Margaret left the room for a minute, to fetch some work. When she returned, she found her tossing, and moaning, and apparently on the point of waking. As soon as she sat down by her, her trouble diminished by degrees, till she lay in the same peaceful sleep as before. In this state she continued for two or three hours, and awoke much refreshed. She held out her little hand to Margaret, and said:
"Thank you. Thank you. What a sweet creature you are!"And Lady Emily lay and gazed in loving admiration at the face of the lady's-maid.
"Shall I send Sarah to you now, my lady?" said Margaret; "or would you like me to stay with you?""Oh! you, you, please--if Mrs. Elton can spare you.""She will only think of your comfort, I know, my lady.""That recalls me to my duty, and makes me think of her.""But your comfort will be more to her than anything else.""In that case you must stay, Margaret."
"With pleasure, my lady."
Mrs. Elton entered, and quite confirmed what Margaret had said.
"But," she added, "it is time Lady Emily had something to eat. Go to the cook, Margaret, and see if the beef-tea Miss Cameron ordered is ready."Margaret went.
"What a comfort it is," said Mrs. Elton, wishing to interest Lady Emily, "that now-a-days, when infidelity is so rampant, such corroborations of Sacred Writ are springing up on all sides! There are the discoveries at Nineveh; and now these Spiritual Manifestations, which bear witness so clearly to another world."But Lady Emily made no reply. She began to toss about as before, and show signs of inexplicable discomfort. Margaret had hardly been gone two minutes, when the invalid moaned out:
"What a time Margaret is gone!--when will she be back?""I am here, my love," said Mrs. Elton.
"Yes, yes; thank you. But I want Margaret."
"She will be here presently. Have patience, my dear.""Please, don't let Miss Cameron come near me. I am afraid I am very wicked, but I can't bear her to come near me.""No, no, dear; we will keep you to ourselves.""Is Mr.--, the foreign gentleman, I mean--below?""No. He is gone."
"Are you sure? I can hardly believe it."
"What do you mean, dear? I am sure he is gone."Lady Emily did not answer. Margaret returned. She took the beef-tea, and grew quiet again.
"You must not leave her ladyship, Margaret," whispered her mistress.
"She has taken it into her head to like no one but you, and you must just stay with her.""Very well, ma'am. I shall be most happy."
Mrs. Elton left the room. Lady Emily said:
"Read something to me, Margaret."
"What shall I read?"
"Anything you like."
Margaret got a Bible, and read to her one of her father's favourite chapters, the fortieth of Isaiah.
"I have no right to trust in God, Margaret."
"Why, my lady?"
"Because I do not feel any faith in him; and you know we cannot be accepted without faith.""That is to make God as changeable as we are, my lady.""But the Bible says so."
"I don't think it does; but if an angel from heaven said so, I would not believe it.""Margaret!"
