"Life is a blank to me. I have no hope left. I am neither wiser, nor better, nor happier for God having given me all that should make a woman what I meant to be. What can God give me more than I have?" "I was just thinking so," replied Margaret, mournfully. "What follows then?" "Not that all married people are unhappy because you are." "Yes, oh, yes! all who are capable of happiness: all who can love. The truth is, there is no perfect confidence in the world: there is no rest for one's heart. I believed there was, and I am disappointed: and if you believe there is, you will be disappointed too, I warn you." "I shall not neglect your warning; but I do believe there is rest for rational affections--I am confident there is, if the primary condition is fulfilled--if there is repose in God together with human love." "You think that trust in God is wanting in me?" "Do let us speak of something else," said Margaret. "We are wrong to think and talk of ourselves as we do. There is something sickly about our state while we do so, and we deserve to be suffering as we are. Come! let us be up and doing. Let me read to you; or will you practise with me till Edward comes back?" "Not till you have answered my question, Margaret. Do you believe that my wretchedness is from want of trust in God?" "I believe," said Margaret, seriously, "that all restless and passionate suffering is from that cause. And now, Hester, no more." Hester allowed Margaret to read to her; but it would not do. She was too highly wrought up for common interests. The reading was broken off by her hysterical sobs; and it was clear that the best thing to be done was to get her to bed, under Morris's care, that all agitating conversation might be avoided. When Mr Hope returned, he found Margaret sitting alone at the tea-table. If she had had no greater power of self-control than her sister, Edward might have been made wretched enough, for her heart was full of dismay: but she felt the importance of the duty of supporting him, and he found her, though serious, apparently cheerful. "I have sent Hester to bed," said she, as he entered. "She was worn out. Yes: just go and speak to her; but do not give her the opportunity of any more conversation till she has slept. Tell her that I am going to send her some tea; and by that time yours will be ready." "Just one word upon the events of to-day," said Hope, as he took his seat at the tea-table, after having reported that Hester was tolerably composed:--"just one word, and no more. We must avoid bringing emotions to a point--giving occasion for--" "I entirely agree with you," said Margaret. "She requires to be drawn out of herself. She cannot bear that opening of the sluices, which is a benefit and comfort to some people. Let us keep them shut, and when it comes to acting, see how she will act!"