“‘I want strength, Agnes,’ said she, ’and I know there is but one source from which I can obtain it.  Advice, consolation, and sympathy, I may and will receive here; but strength—­strength is what I most stand in need of, and that only can proceed from Him who gives rest to the heavy laden.’

“‘You feel too deeply, Jane,’ I replied; ‘you should try to be firm.’

“‘I do try, Agnes; but tell me, have I not been unwell, very unwell?’

“’Your feelings, dear Jane, overcame you yesterday, as was natural they should—­but now that you are calm, of course you will not yield to despondency or melancholy.  Your dejection, though at present deep, will soon pass away, and ere many days you will be as cheerful as ever.’

“‘I hope so; but Charles is gone, is he not?’

“’But you know it was necessary that he should travel for his health; besides, have you not formed a plan of correspondence with each other?’

“Then,” proceeded Agnes, “she pulled out the locket which contained his hair, and after looking on it for about a minute, she kissed it, pressed it to her heart, and whilst in the act of doing so a few tears ran down her cheeks.

“I am glad of that,” observed her mother; “it is a sign that this heavy grief will not long-abide upon her.”

“She then desired me,” continued Agnes, “to leave her, and expressed a sense of her own weakness, and the necessity of spiritual support, as I have already told you.  I am sure the worst is over.”

“Blessed be God, I trust it is,” said her father; “but whilst I live, I will never demand from her such a proof of her obedience as that which I imposed upon her yesterday.  She will soon be down to breakfast, and we must treat the dear girl kindly, and gently, and affectionately; tenderly, tenderly must she be treated; and, children, much depends upon you—­keep her mind engaged.  You have music—­play more than you do—­read more—­walk more—­sing more.  I myself will commence a short course of lectures upon the duties and character of women, in the single and married state of life; alternately with which I will also give you a short course upon Belles-Lettres.  If this engages and relieves her mind, it will answer an important purpose; but at all events it will be time well spent, and that is something.”

When Jane appeared at breakfast, she was paler than usual; but then the expression of her countenance, though pensive, was natural.  Mr. Sinclair placed her between himself and her mother, and each kissed her in silence ere she sat down.

“I have been very unwell yesterday,papa.  I know I must have been; but I have made my mind up to bear his absence with fortitude—­not that it is his mere absence which I feel so severely, but an impression that some calamity is to occur either to him or me.”

“Impressions of that kind, my dear child, are the results of low spirits and a nervous habit.  You should not suffer your mind to be disturbed by them; for, when it is weakened by suffering, they gather strength, and sometimes become formidable.”