Patience

"I think dear Miss Hemingford cannot be well to-night, she looks sometimes pale, and sometimes flushed, and has walked up and down that espalier walk this half hour—what can be the matter with her, Mrs. Aylmer?"

The lady to whom this enquiry was addressed, well knew that it was made from the kindest motives; she therefore replied,—

"Dora and myself, Mrs. Longden, are alike in a state of great anxiety, on the subject of a letter we expect to-night from her parents, to whom I have written, requesting their permission to take her with me to the south of France, to which place, you know, I am ordered, for the benefit of my health."

"If you could entertain a doubt of their ready acquiescence, you might well be anxious; but surely it is impossible they could think of removing her from you at that time, when your health requires the care of an affectionate and grateful daughter?"

"I hope they will not,—yet some of their late letters have indicated such an intention; and so material a change in my residence may have a tendency to confirm a wavering resolution."

"In my opinion," replied the good neighbour, "they will act most ungratefully towards you, and cruelly towards her, if they divide you;—you have reared her from infancy,—nursed her from a sickly plant, into a blooming flower, and—"

Mrs. Longden spoke warmly, for she was really moved; but perceiving that her auditor, who was but slowly recovering from a severe illness, became too much affected, she checked herself, and after a pause, added in a soothing tone—

"To be sure, if you are obliged to part, you will have the advantage of being with the Sydenhams, who are the best people in the world;—and she, poor girl, will, I hope, bear the trial well; she is of such a sweet temper, such a patient disposition."