"But yourself; for your own sake do not thus yield to immoderate grief." "I tell you, Dr. Browne, my heart shall dash itself against this sorrow till it break--break!" she exclaimed wildly. "But this is not Christian submission." "I am not a Christian, Dr. Browne; you cannot expect from me submission. Do you expect grapes from thorns?" "Not a Christian, Mrs. Temple?" "You know I am not a Christian, Dr. Browne! I have never known but one Christian in my life, and that was John Temple." Dr. Browne felt somewhat scandalized. A member of his church to say boldly she had never known but one Christian, and that Christian a Roman Catholic; was it not incomprehensible? But then Mrs. Temple was not now in her usual mind. Due allowance must be made, and he would seek a more favorable opportunity for renewing the subject. He arose to leave. "What shall I do, Dr. Browne? I cannot bear day nor night; life is a torture; I cannot bear life, nor can I endure to think of death. O, help me, Dr. Browne." "Only God can help you, Mrs. Temple, and I pray that His grace may be sufficient for you." "But you forget that I have no God." "Mrs. Temple, you are beside yourself. No God?" "No! He is afar off, or I am shut out from Him. I have never known Him. I cannot pray to Him." "When you shall be more collected I will call again. Meantime, you will find much comfort in our Book of Common Prayer. Have recourse to it and to the throne of grace." Juliet abandoned herself as much to remorse as to grief. She had had the best of husbands; she had been to him the worst of wives. As in a mirror, she saw all her past life. She remembered how fretful and fault-finding she had been; how difficult to please, how unlovely she had made herself. If John could come back, only just long enough for her to tell him how very, very sorry she was, how much she loved and respected him, how he had always done everything right, and she had been ever in the wrong; but he could not come even for that. She collected around her the various articles he had used; among others, his rosary, crucifix and prayer-book. How careful he had been to keep them hidden away, where they might not offend her eye, or provoke her ridicule and sneer. She read every day, in the "Following of Christ," the chapter John had last read, which the faded rose still marked. In this was a kind of comfort, but there was peace nor rest in aught else. She walked the floor distractedly, and wrung her hands and tore her garments. She shut herself up in the darkness, and stretched forth her hands and prayed the spirit of John to come back to her in pity. She would not admit her sisters; her children she allowed to grieve alone.