“And were you very melancholy when you were here before, and did not find us?” Matilda inquired. “Oh, so melancholy when I saw the flowerpots,” Leila answered; “and I cried so when I saw the paper with ‘Custom commonly makes things easy.’ Yes, ‘Custom commonly’ was the worst of all.” “But that is all over now,” Matilda observed; “so we need not speak about it, for now we are all three as happy as can be; don’t you think so, Selina?” “Indeed I do, Matilda; but it is such a deep joy I cannot find words to utter it; it does not make me merry, but do not think it is because I am sad. If you are happy and think it a joyful day, what must it be to me? I had given up all hope of ever being able to speak again; I was telling Leila so that very day, and making her promise not to pray for it any more. Then so many changes have come upon me. When I saw Leila on the ground, when I thought her dead,--oh, I must not think of it; and when she opened her eyes again, and said, ‘Who spoke? what has happened?’ and when she knew God had opened my lips, what a moment that was! Leila’s joy, and my joy too, and to be able to tell her how much I loved her. You do not know how I used to struggle before, and what it was for me not to be able to speak.” “Indeed I do know very well,” Matilda answered; “for when mamma often says to me, ‘Matilda, I must beg you to be silent, you distract my head,’ I am more anxious to speak than ever; and so vexed, I would rather she had given me a good slap.” “A good _slap_!” Leila exclaimed. “Oh, Matilda, if my papa were ever to slap me, I would--” she covered her face with her hands and shuddered. “What would you do?” Matilda anxiously inquired, as she pulled down Leila’s hands, and tried to get a sight of her face. “I would die,” Leila answered, in a voice so low that the words were scarcely audible. But Matilda caught them. “Oh dear,” she cried, “how I have shocked you; what a shocked face you have; well, I am always saying something wrong, and I dare say I shall never be better; for these kind of things come out before I know what I am saying. Selina, do you think it was so very wrong, and was Leila right to say she would----? You know what I mean. You always tell me we should take trials patiently.” Selina coloured. “I think you were both a little wrong,” she said, timidly. “You were wrong to talk in that way of dear mamma, who is always so patient and gentle with you; and very wrong to say you would never be better, when you know God will give you strength if you pray for it with all your heart; but not if you say wandering prayers, and do not really wish it;” and she looked anxiously at Matilda. “And cousin Leila?” Matilda inquired. Selina proceeded. “Yes; Leila I thought was a little wrong to express herself so strongly; you know Uncle Howard always says she must try to command her feelings more,--you are not angry with me, Leila, for saying this?”