Lord's vineyard: nor was his mission
confined to the poor; the rich and noble also felt his influence. Lord
and Lady Treherne greeted him as an old and valued friend; nor could I
detect the slightest agitation in Gabrielle's manner, and my former
suspicions almost faded away. She brought our fair Ella to welcome "papa
and mamma's friend" to Treherne; and Ella, with her winning, gentle
ways, soon made Mr. Dacre understand that she loved him very much
indeed: she was a holy child, and the principal joy of her innocent life
was to hear me tell her those stories in which I used to take delight in
my early days--how contrasted to hers! She would sing her pretty hymns,
seated on a low footstool at Lord Treherne's feet; and the stately
nobleman, with tears in his eyes, used to exclaim with pathos,

"Sister Ruth, sister Ruth, my heart misgives me; the angels surely will
take this child to themselves, and leave us desolate."

Mr. Dacre came not frequently to Treherne, but he was a quick observer,
and he saw we had set up an idol for ourselves in this child, he
cautioned us, but Gabrielle shivered--yes, _shivered_ with dismay, at
the bare suggestion he hinted at--that God was a "jealous God," and
permitted no idolatrous worship to pass unreproved.

Poor young mother, how can I relate the scenes I lived to witness!

Ella died, aged ten years. The mother sat by her coffin four days and
nights, speechless and still; we dared not attempt to remove her, there
way an alarming expression in her eyes if we did, that made the medical
men uncertain how to act. She had tasted no food since the child died;
she was hopeful to the last: it was impossible, she said, that her child
could die; her faculties could not comprehend the immensity of the
anguish in store for her. So there she sat like stone--cold, and silent,
and wan, as the effigy she watched. Who dared to awaken the mother?

Mr. Dacre undertook the awful task, but it was almost too much for his
tender, sympathizing heart; nerved by strength from above he came to
us--for I never left my sister--and we three were alone with the dead.

It harrows my soul to dwell on this subject, and it seemed cruel to
awaken the benumbed mother to reality and life again, but it was done;
and then words were spoken far too solemn and sacred to repeat here, and
hearts were opened that otherwise might have remained sealed till the
judgment day. Gabrielle, for the first time in her life, knew herself a