ame time, desiring each one to find another home as
early as possible.
At the close of the third day after this, Mrs. Darlington sat down to
her evening meal with only her children gathered at the table. A
subdued and tranquil spirit pervaded each bosom, even though a dark
veil was drawn against the future. To a long and troubled excitement
there had succeeded a calm. It was good to be once more alone, and they
felt this. "Through what a scene of trial, disorder, and suffering have
we passed!" said Edith. "It seems as if I had just awakened from a
dream."
"And such a dream!" sighed Miriam.
"Would that it were but a dream!" said Mrs. Darlington. "But, alas! the
wrecks that are around us too surely testify the presence of a
devastating storm."
"The storm has passed away, mother," said Edith; "and we will look for
calmer and brighter skies."
"No bright skies for us, I fear, my children," returned the mother,
with a deeper tinge of sadness in her voice.
"They are bright this hour to what they were a few days since," said
Edith, "and I am sure they will grow brighter. I feel much encouraged.
Where the heart is willing, the way is sure to open. Both Miriam and I
are willing to do all in our power, and I am sure we can do much. We
have ability to teach others; and the exercise of that ability will
bring a sure reward. I like Uncle Hiram's suggestion very much."
"But the humiliation of soliciting scholars," said the mother.
"To do right is not humiliating," quickly replied Edith.
"It is easy to say this, my child; but can you go to Mrs. Lionel, for
instance, with whose family we were so intimate, and solicit her to
send Emma and Cordelia to the school you propose to open, without a
smarting sense of humiliation? I am sure you cannot."
Edith communed with her own thoughts for some moments, and then
answered--
"If I gave way to false pride, mother, this might be so; but I must
overcome what is false and evil. This is as necessary for my happiness
as the external good we seek--nay, far more so. Too many who have moved
in the circle where we have been moving for years strangely enough
connect an idea of degradation with the office of teaching children.
But is there on the earth a higher or more important use than
instructing the mind and training the heart of young immortals? It has
been beautifully and truly said, that 'Earth is the nursery of Heaven.'
The teacher, then, is a worker in God's own garden. Is
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