'
'No, no,' cried Sophy, 'I have never been good since he went. I have
got worse and worse, but I did think I was true still, that that one
thing was left me--but now--' The sense of having acted a deception
seemed to produce grief under which the stubborn pride was melting
away, and it was most affecting to see the child weeping over the
lost jewel of truth, which she seemed to feel the last link with the
remarkable boy whose impress had been left so strongly on all
connected with him.
'My dear, the truth is in you still, or you could not grieve thus
over your failure,' said Albinia. 'I know you erred, because it did
not occur to you that it was not acting openly by me; but oh! Sophy,
there is something that would bring you nearer to Edmund than hard
truth in your own strength.'
'I don't know what you mean,' said Sophy.
'Did you ever think what Edmund is about now?'
'I don't know,' said Sophy.
'I only know that the one thing which is carried with us to the other
world is love, Sophy, and love that becomes greater than we can yet
imagine. If you would think of Him who redeemed and saved your dear
Edmund, and who is his happiness, his exceeding great reward, your
heart would warm, and, oh! what hope and peace would come!'
'Edmund was good,' said Sophy, in a tone as if to mark the hopeless
gulf between.
'And you are sorry. All human goodness begins from sorrow. It had
even to be promised first for baby at his christening, you know.
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