"Oh, hush!" replied her sister, quite shocked at this. "You can't know what you are talking about." And here her voice trembled a little, for no one was more conscious of her faults and shortcomings. Bessie could remember the time when the conflict had been very hard; when her standard of duty had been lower than that she held now; when she had been as careless and indifferent as many girls of her age, until Divine guidance had led her feet into better paths; and knowing this, in her humility she could be tolerant of others. "You do not know what you are saying, Hatty, or you would not hurt me by such a speech; it is only your love for me that blinds you. What I want to tell you is this--that you must not be so impatient; you waste all your strength in saying hard things about yourself, instead of fighting your faults. Why don't you say to yourself, 'I am a poor, weak little creature, but my Creator knows that too, and he bears with me. I cannot rid myself of my tiresome nature; it sticks to me like a Nessus shirt'--you know the old mythological story, Hatty--'but it is my cross, a horrid spiky one, so I will carry it as patiently as I can. If it is not always light, I will grope my way through the shadows; but my one prayer and my one effort shall be to prevent other people suffering through me?'" "Oh, Bessie, that is beautiful!" "You will find nothing else will help you to fight your bogies; do try it, darling. Be merciful to your poor little self; 'respect the possible angel in you,' as Mr. Robertson said. You will get rid of all your faults and fancies one day, as your namesake did in the river. You won't always be poor little Hatty, whose back aches, and who is so cross; there is no pain nor crossness in the lovely land where all things are new." "Oh, if we were only there now, Bessie, you and I, safe and happy!" "I would rather wait till my time comes. I am young and strong enough to find life beautiful. Don't be cowardly, Hatty; you want to drop behind in the march, before many a gray-haired old veteran. That is because you are weak and tired, and you fear the long journey; but you forget," and here Bessie dropped her voice reverently, "that we don't journey alone, any more than the children of Israel did in the wilderness. We also have our pillar of cloud to lead us by day, and our pillar of fire by night to give us light. Mother always said what a type of the Christian pilgrimage the story of the Israelites is; she made us go through it all with her, and I remember all she told me. Hark! I think I hear footsteps outside the window; the servants are coming in from church." "Wait a minute, Bessie, before you let them in. You have done me so much good; you always do. I will try not to mope and vex mother and Christine while you are away." And Hatty threw her arms penitently round her sister's neck.