estore us to the hopes and happiness which have been ours! Do what is
right, and leave the future to God."

"But how can I write to Arthur, when I know I am not treating him as I
would wish him to treat me?"

"Write as you always have; your letters have never been very sentimental.
Arthur says you write on all subjects but the one nearest his heart. If you
had loved him as I thought you did, you never would have allowed another to
usurp his place. But we cannot help the past. Now dear child, compose
yourself; I am fatigued, but cannot sleep until you do."

Alice, restless for a while, at last fell asleep, but it was not the rest
that brings refreshment and repose. Her mother watched her, as with her
hand now pressed on her brow, now thrown on the pillow, she slept. Her
mind, overtaxed, tried even in sleep to release itself of its burden. The
wish to please, and the effort to do right, was too much for her sensitive
frame. It was like the traveler unaccustomed to fatigue and change, forced
to commence a journey, unassured of his way, and ignorant of his
destination.

Her mother watched her--a deep hue was settled under her eyelashes, the
veins in her temple were fearfully distinct, and a small crimson spot
rested on her cheek. She watched her, by the moonlight that glanced over
every part of the room. She listened to her heavy breathing, and lightly
touched her dry and crimson lips. She stroked the long luxuriant curls,
that appeared to her darker than they ever had before. She closed the
nearest window, lest there should be something borne on the breath of
night, to disturb the rest of the beloved one. But, mother! it will not do;
the curse of God is still abroad in the world, the curse on sin. It falls,
like a blighting dew, on the loveliest and dearest to our hearts. It is by
our side and in our path. It is among the gay, the rich, the proud, and the
gifted of the earth; among the poor, the despised, the desolate and
forsaken. It darkens the way of the monarch and the cottager, of the maiden
and the mother, of the master and the slave. Alas! since it poisoned the
flowers in Eden, and turned the children of God from its fair walks, it is
abroad in the world--the curse of God on sin.

There is a blessing, too, within the reach of all. He who bore the curse,
secured the blessing. Son of God! teach us to be like thee; give us of thy
spirit, that we may soften to each other the inevitable ills of life.
Prepare us for t