"Dear madam, why should you think of making any such atonement?" I said. "Surely the one oblation of our Lord, once offered, is a sufficient atonement and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world, let alone yours and mine: and no suffering of ours, no voluntary humiliation or penance, will add anything to its virtue. Only cast all your care and sin on Him, and leave Him to lay upon you such crosses as He sees best: I don't think we need be afraid of having too much ease in this world, if we are willing to bear the burdens and do the tasks He provides for us. And if we go to work making burdens and tasks for ourselves—doing our own work—I am afraid we are in great danger of neglecting His." I doubted how she would take my little sermon. She did not seem displeased, however, but said we would talk of it again. I helped her to undress, and got her to bed. "I do not see how you can find any rest on such a bed!" I said, feeling how hard and uneven it was. "I wish you would let me make it up comfortably." "Do as you will!" said she, wearily, leaning back in her chair. I looked out into the gallery, and seeing one of the maids, I bade her bring a matrass and quilt from an unused room near by, wherewith I made the bed as nicely as I could. The poor lady could not help a sigh of relief and satisfaction, as she lay down. Then I sent Dolly down for a manchet and a cup of cream, and persuaded Lady Jemima to eat a little. She promised me that she would lie still and try to sleep, and asked me to come in again after a while, kissing me at parting. As I shut the door, I heard her sobs burst forth, but I did not return, thinking that she would at last weep herself to sleep. I found Betty up and dressed, and in due time took her in to see and kiss her mother. My dear Lady looked very lovely in her paleness, but Madam would not let her speak a word to any one, which was no more than right, of course, though Betty was inclined to murmur thereat, till Madam explained to her the reason; after which she seemed hardly to dare to breathe. She was sadly disappointed in the babes. "They are so red and spotty—they are not nearly as pretty as kittens," said she, pouting a little: "I think they look more like the young rats Ambrose showed me." My Lord nearly exploded into a laugh at this criticism, and my Lady smiled, but Mrs. Brewster was indignant. I explained to Betty that all very young babes looked so, and that they would grow pretty in time. "Will they?" she asked, wistfully. "When will they get their eyes open?" This was too much for my Lord, who fled precipitately into the gallery. But, at that moment, one of the babies opened his eyes and showed that they were blue. I made Betty slip her finger into one of the little hands, which closed on it at once, and Betty was more than satisfied.