and laid a little hand lightly on her shoulder,
and, true to her creed that we must look upward
for consolation, said in her ear, and in solemn,
silvery tones, " Our light affliction, which is but
for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding
and eternal weight of glory."

Julia turned at this and flung her arms round
Jane's neck, and panted heavily.

Jane kissed her, and, with the tears in her eyes,
proceeded to pour out, from a memory richly
stored with Scripture, those blessed words it is
full of, words that in our hours of ease or biblical
criticism pass over the mind like some drowsy
chime; but in the bitter day of anguish and
bereavement, when the body is racked, the soul
darkened, shine out like stars to the mariner;
seem then first to swell to their real size and
meaning, and come to writhing mortals like pitying
seraphim, divinity on their faces and healing
on their wings.

Julia sighed heavily: "Ah," she said, "these
are sweet words. But I am not ripe for them.
You show me the true path of happiness: but I
don't want to be happy; it's him I want to be
happy. If the angels came for me and took me
to heaven this moment, I should be miserable
there, if I thought he was in eternal torment;
ay, I should be as miserable there as I am here.
Oh Jane, when God means to comfort me, He
will show me he is alive; till then words are
wasted on me, even Bible words."

"Tell her your news, my dear," said Mrs.
Dodd quietly. She was one of those, who take
human nature as it is, and make the best of it.

"Julia dear," said Jane, "your fears are
extravagant; indeed: Alfred is alive, we know."

Julia trembled, but said nothing.

"He has written to-day."

"Ah! To you?"

"No, to papa."

"I don't believe it. Why to him?"

"But I saw the letter, dear; I had it in my
hand."

"Did you read it?" asked Julia, trembling
now like an aspen, and fluttering like a bird.

"No, but I read the address, and the date
inside, and I saw the handwriting; and I was
offered the letter, but papa told me it was full
of abuse of him, so I declined* to read it;
however, I will get it for you."

* This was one of those involuntary inaccuracies
which creep into mortal statements.

Mrs. Dodd thanked her warmly; but asked
her if she could not in the mean time give some
idea of the contents.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Dodd: papa read me out a
great deal of it. He was in Paris, but just starting
for London: and he demanded his money
and his accounts. You know papa is one of his
trustees."

"Well, but," said Mrs. Dodd, "was there
nothing—nothing about—?"

"Oh yes there was," said Jane, "only I—well
then, for dear Julia's sake—  the letter said, ' What
wonder the son of a sharper should prove a
traitor? You have stolen her money, and I her
affections, and'—oh, I can't, I can't." And Jane
Hardie began to cry.

Mrs. Dodd embraced her like a mother, and
entered into her filial feelings: Mrs. Dodd had
never seen her so weak, and, therefore, never
thought her so amiable. Thus occupied they
did not at first observe how these tidings were
changing Julia.

But presently looking up they saw her standing
at her full height, on fire with wrath and
insulted pride.

"Ah, you have brought me comfort," she cried.
"Mamma, I shall hate and scorn this man some
day, as much as I hate and scorn myself now for
every tear I have shed for him."

They tried to calm her, but in vain; a new
gust of passion possessed the ardent young
creature, and would have vent. She reddened
from bosom to brow, and the scalding tears ran
down her flaming cheeks, and she repeated
between her clenched teeth, "My veins are not
filled with skim-milk, I can tell you: you have
seen how I can love, you shall see how I can
hate." And with this she went haughtily out
of the room, not to expose the passion which
overpowered her.

Mrs. Dodd took advantage of her absence to
thank Jane for her kindness, and told her she had
also received some letters by this morning's post,
and thought it would be neither kind on her part
nor just to conceal their purport from her. She
then read her a letter from Mrs. Beresford, and
another from Mr. Grey, in answer to queries
about the 14,000l.

Sharpe, I may as well observe, was at sea;
Bayliss drowned.

Mrs. Beresford knew nothing about the matter.

Mr. Grey was positive Captain Dodd, when in
command, had several thousand pounds in his
cabin: Mrs. Beresford's Indian servant had been
detected trying to steal it, and put in irons:
believed the lady had not been told the cause—
out of delicacy: and Captain Roberts had
liberated him. As to whether the money had
escaped the wreck—if on Captain Dodd's person,
it might have been saved; but if not, it was
certainly lost: for Captain Dodd to his knowledge
had run on deck from the passengers' cabin the
moment the ship struck, and had remained there
till she went to pieces; and everything was
washed out of her.

"Our own opinion," said Mrs. Dodd, "I mean
Edward's and mine, is now, that the money was
lost in the ship; and you can tell your papa
so, if you like."

Jane thanked her, and said she thought so too;
and what a sad thing it was.

Soon after this Julia returned, pale and calm
as a statue, and sat down humbly beside Jane:
"O, pray with me," she said: "pray that I may
not hate, for to hate is to be wicked; and pray
that I may not love, for to love is to be
miserable."