It is of no good to bother yourself about me. It
can't be helped, and there's an end of it.'
'There is not an end of it, indeed!' cried Albinia. 'Why, Sophy, do
you suppose I could bear to leave you so?'
'I'm sure I don't see why not.'
'Why not?' continued Albinia, in her bright, tender voice. 'Why,
because I must love you with all my heart. You are your own dear
papa's child, and this little man's sister. Yes, and you are
yourself, my poor, sad, lonely child, who does not know how to bring
out the thoughts that prey on her, and who thinks it very hard to
have a stranger instead of her own mother. I know I should have felt
so.'
'But I have behaved so ill to you,' cried Sophy, as if bent on
repelling the proffered affection. 'I would not like you, and I did
not like you. Never! and I have gone against you every way I could.'
'And now I love you because you are sorry for it.'
'I'm not'--Sophy had begun, but the words turned into 'Am I?'
'I think you are,' and with the sweetest of tearful smiles, she put
an arm round the no longer resisting Sophy, and laying her cheek
against the little brother's, she kissed first one and then the
other.
'I can't think why you are so,' said Sophy, still struggling against
the undeserved love, though far more feebly. 'I shall never deserve
it.'
'See if you don't, when we pull together instead of contrary ways.'
'But,' cried Sophy, with a sudden start from her, as if remembering a
mortal offence, 'you drained the pond!'
'I own I earnestly wished it to be drained; but had you any reason
for regretting it, my dear?'
'Ah! you did not know,' said Sophy.
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