Let us hope he will yet prove of some
assistance to her."
"Good brother! blessed brother! I have felt so angry with him, Hal, but
I will try to be good. Of course Mary will be with you."
"She thinks he needs a little punishment, but I tell her to be patient,
and to let the days tell us their story."
"Amen," said the voice of our Clara, who was always in the right place,
"and may we not hope for all the suffering ones. There are bruised
hearts all around us. Let the precious nutriment of our love and care
fall on them as the dew, calling forth tender blossoms, whose perfume
may mingle with their lives. Wisdom and strength, my Emily, will help us
to these things, and the prayer of England's church be not so sadly
true."
It was a relief to us all, and we could take long breaths now that Mr.
Benton had gone, and mysteries solved had opened before us a vista of
quiet days, into which our feet would gladly turn. We had to talk him
over thoroughly, and I was glad to be able to say at last:
"Peace to his memory; let him rest."
The letter we expected from the sweet girl-woman came, and we heard each
week of her and her unrewarded search going on. At last, when out from
the snows blue violets sprang, there came a letter, saying,
"It is done. I found him looking at a lovely picture, one of his own. It
was a fancy sketch, but the face, eyes and hair, those of Mrs. Desmonde,
I know. He had clothed her in exquisitely lovely apparel, and she was
looking out over a waste of waters, but I cannot describe it justly.
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