‘Do not wound her,’ he said, ‘by shutting her out any longer from your troubles. It is right that you should be with her.’

 

‘Yes, I will send for her,’ said Janet. ‘But I would rather not go to my mother’s yet, because my husband is sure to think I am there, and he might come and fetch me. I can’t go back to him ... at least, not yet. Ought I to go back to him?’

 

‘No, certainly not, at present. Something should be done to secure you from violence. Your mother, I think, should consult some confidential¹ friend, some man of character and experience, who might mediate² between you and your husband.’

 

‘Yes, I will send for my mother directly. But I will stay here, with Mrs. Pettifer, till something has been done. I want no one to know where I am, except you. You will come again, will you not? you will not leave me to myself?’

 

‘You will not be left to yourself. God is with you. If I have been able to give you any comfort, it is because His power and love have been present with us. But I am very thankful that He has chosen to work through me. I shall see you again to-morrow—not before evening, for it will be Sunday, you know; but after the evening lecture I shall be at liberty. You will be in my prayers till then. In the meantime, dear Mrs. Dempster, open your heart as much as you can to your mother and Mrs. Pettifer. Cast away from you the pride that makes us shrink from acknowledging our weakness to our friends. Ask them to help you in guarding yourself from the least approach of the sin you most dread³. Deprive yourself as far as possible of the very means and opportunity of committing it. Every effort of that kind made in humility⁴ and dependence⁵ is a prayer. Promise me you will do this.’

 

‘Yes, I promise you. I know I have always been too proud; I could never bear to speak to any one about myself. I have been proud towards my mother, even; it has always made me angry when she has seemed to take notice of my faults.’

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