"She was not wholly innocent. Miriam, make me not to remember the past.

My eyes are old now; they should not weep any more. I have drunk my cup

of sorrow to the lees. O Miriam, Miriam, do not fill it again!"

"God forbid! My father, I will keep the promise that I made you. I will

do all that you wish."

Cohen bowed his head solemnly, and remained for some minutes afterward

motionless. His eyes were closed, his face was as still as a painted

face. Whether he was praying or remembering, Miriam knew not. But

solitude is the first cry of the wounded heart, and she went away into

it. She was like a child that had been smitten, and whom there was none

to comfort. But she never thought of disputing her grandfather's word,

or of opposing his will. Often before he had been obliged to give her

some bitter cup, or some disappointment; but her good had always been

the end in view. She had perfect faith in his love and wisdom. But she

suffered very much; though she bore it with that uncomplaining patience

which is so characteristic of the child heart--a patience pathetic in

its resignation, and sublime in its obedience.

And it was during this hour of trial to Miriam that Joris was talking to

Lysbet of her. It did him good to put his fears into words, for Lysbet's

assurances were comfortable; and as it had been a day full of feeling,

he was weary and went earlier to his room than usual. On the contrary,

Lysbet was very wakeful. She carried her sewing to the candle, and sat

down for an hour's work. The house was oppressively still; and she could

not help remembering the days when it had been so different,--when Anna

and Cornelia had been marriageable women, and Joanna and Katherine

growing girls. All of them had now gone away from her. Only Bram was

left, and she thought of him with great anxiety. Such a marriage as his

father had hinted at filled her with alarm. She could neither conquer

her prejudices nor put away her fears; and she tormented herself with

imagining, in the event of such a misfortune, all the disagreeable and

disapproving things the members of the Middle Kirk would have to say.

In the midst of her reflections, Bram returned. She had not expected him

so early, but the sound of his feet was pleasant. He came in slowly;

and, after some pottering, irritating delays, he pushed his father's

chair back from the light, and with a heavy sigh sat down in it.




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