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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"The Young Step-Mother"

I could
never have borne it if I had deprived him of her!'
'Nor I,' said Ulick, from his heart. 'Did one but know the upshot of
one's idle follies!'
Sophy looked towards Maurice.
'Asleep!' said Ulick. 'No wonder. He has walked four miles! He has
a heart that might have been born in Ireland;' and as he looked at
the fair young face softened and sweetened by sleep, 'What an infant
it is to have even fancied such an undertaking!'
'Poor child!' sighed Sophy. 'He will never be the same!'
'Nay, grief at that age does not check the spirits for life.'
'You have never known,' said Sophy.
'No; our number has never yet been broken; but for this little man, I
trust that the sense of duty may be deepened, and with it his love to
you all; and surely that is not what will quench the blithe temper.'
'May it be so!' said Sophy. 'He may have enough of his mother in him
to be happy.'
'I must think that the recollection of so loving a brother, and his
pride in him for a hero, may make the stream flow more deeply, but
not more darkly.'
'There never was a cloud between them,' said Sophy.
'Clouds are all past and gone now between those who can with him
"take part in that thanksgiving lay,"' answered Ulick, kindly.
'Yes,' said Sophy. 'My uncle says it was peace at last! Oh! if
humbleness and penitence could win it, one might be sure it would be
his.'
'True,' said Ulick. 'It was a beautiful thing to find the loving
sweetness and kindness refined into self-devotion and patience, and
growing into something brighter and purer as it came near the last.


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