"You think it scarce like, Madam?" asked Patience, seeing her thought in her face. "I know what you think--ay, and more than you have thought that. If you will forgive me to say it, you deem her cold and hard. So she is. Ah Madam! wherever sorrow softens and sanctifies not, it chills and hardens. I am sure, if I had known her but now, I could never have thought her that bright lassie whom I saw in her early maidenhood. You see, Madam, the Lord sends sorrow to us all; but where He has to touch one of His chosen with it, He brings it Himself. And there is a vast difference between the two. There be to whom the having been with grief is the having been with Jesus; and that always softens and tenders the heart. I think we hardly come to know the Lord's best comforts, till we come to know how sorely He can afflict whiles. But grief without Jesus--ah! that is worth calling grief! "There is little more to tell now, Madam, for you know the end--that Sir Edward wedded Madam Claudia. I will confess I did think they might have waited a trifle longer, if it were only to the end of the year after Mr. Camillus' death. He had scarce been dead six months, and my Lady Magdalene not the year out, when they were married. Howbeit, that was their business, not mine. Madam Sophia said, in her odd way, that if her sister did not care, she saw no reason why she should: but the tears stood in Madam Amata's eyes, though she said nought. I liked Madam Amata very much. She died about two years thereafter." "Patient, whom do you think Philip like?--his father or his mother?" "Neither much, Madam. Sir Edward is like his father, only that he hath his mother's mouth. "Do you know when he will be back, Patient? I do so long to see my _own_ brother." "No, Madam. He went off rather unexpected. Now, Madam Celia, if you please to try this gown?" "Why, Patient! what have you done to that blue gauze?" inquired Lady Ingram, entering so noiselessly that neither knew of her presence until she spoke. "It is cut absurdly short in front. Turn round, my dear. _Mais c'est affreux_! Pull the rag off, I beg of you. Is that Thérèse's cutting or yours, Patient?" "Thérèse's, Madam." "_Incroyable_! I shall scold her right well for it. It is atrocious. _C'est une chose à déchirer de coeur!_" Celia looked up into Lady Ingram's eyes, saw how calm and careless they were, and wondered if there were left in her anything of that early Claude De La Croix, whose sad story she had been hearing. [1] Matt. xxii 42. [2] 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. [3] 1 Cor. iii. 23. [4] John viii. 11. [5] John ii. 16. [6] Heb. x. 25. [7] Matt. vii. 20. [8] Rom. i. 28. [9] October 22, 1685. [10] By Henri IV. of France, April 13, 1508.