nner was ever yet
willing to part with his sin but under the promptings of God's Spirit.
And that is but a sorry repentance which would fain keep the sin, if
only it might without incurring penalty."

"Madam, you do cause sin to look very awful," said I.

"That is how God would have thee see it, _Helen_," saith she.
"Remember, He hates sin not for His own sake only, but for thy sake.
Ah, dear maid, when some sin, or some matter that perhaps scarce seems
sin to thee, yet makes a cloud to rise up betwixt God and thee--when
this shall creep into thy very bosom, and nestle himself there warm and
close, and be unto thee as a precious jewel--remember, if so be, that
`it is better _for thee_ to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than
thou shouldst, having two hands, or two feet, be cast into everlasting
fire.' He that said that, _Helen_, knew what Hell was."

SELWICK HALL, JANUARY YE XXI.
_Blanche_ is gone home at last. Aunt _Joyce_ and I went thither this
last night with her, her mother having wrung consent from her father
that she should come. For all that was the scene distressful, for
Master _Lewthwaite_ kept not in divers sharp speeches, and _Blanche_
(that is sore wanting in reverence to her elders) would answer back as
she should not: but at the last Mistress _Lewthwaite_ gat them peaced,
and _Alice_ and _Blanche_ went off together. _Alice_ behaved better
than my fears. But, dear heart, to my thinking, how hard and proud is
_Blanche_! Why, she would brazen it out that she hath done none ill of
no kind. The good Lord open her eyes!

When we came out from _Mere Lea_, and were come down the garden path,
Aunt _Joyce_ stood a moment on the hill-side, her eyes lift up to the
still stars.

"Good Lord!" then saith she, "how hard be we poor sinful men and women,
each to other, and how much more forbearing art Thou against whom we
have sinned! Make Thou Thy servants more like Thyself!"

And then away, with a quick foot, and never an other word spake she till
we gat us home.

SELWICK HALL, JANUARY YE XXVII.
When I come to read o'er that I have writ, I find I have said rare
little touching _Ned_. And in very deed it is not that I meant to keep
him out, for _Ned_ is my very hero, and my true thought is that never
yet were young man so brave and good, nor so well-favoured. I must say
I would I could conceive his talk better: for