She listened for a second; it seemed to hurt her more.
The poor bird was in captivity, as was her soul. And then, while the
little songster went on, undismayed by its cage, a reaction set in. If
the soft-feathered creature could sing there beyond the bars, what right
had she to doubt God for one second? No--there should never be any
disbelief. It was only the winter, after all. She was too young to die
like the tree which had been there for some hundreds of years, She would
be as brave as the bird, and those forces of nature which she had loved
and trusted so long, would comfort her.
She sat there for a quarter of an hour saying her prayers and stilling
the pain in her heart--and then she got up and deliberately went back to
the dining-room, where the family were all assembled now.
They chaffed about everything, and were boisterous and jovial as usual,
and when she asked if she might go and see her old master, should Mrs.
Anderton not wish especially for her company that morning, her
stepfather offered to drive her there in his phaeton on his way to the
city.
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