"
"Think you this is all, May Brooke? If it were, I could fling them
from me as I do these leaves," said Helen, tearing to pieces a rich
japonica, which she snatched from a vase near her, and scattering the
soft, pure petals around her. "No, May, these would be trifles. I
should have to tear up my heart with a burning ploughshare--put it
under foot to be spurned and crushed! The storm it would raise would
rage so wildly that I should become like a piece of drift-wood, at the
mercy of wind and waves."
"If your eternal interests are at stake, let the burning ploughshare go
over it, Helen, for it is better to suffer here than where the fire of
wrath is everlasting; but, indeed, dear Helen, all this sounds
exaggerated and impassioned to me! These obstacles which you dread
must be temptations to deter you from the holiest duties. If you
anticipate any difficulties from Mr. Jerrold's opposition, make your
heart easy. He is quite miserable about you, and declares that he has
not the least objection to you practising your Faith."
"Did he say that, May?"
"He did, indeed. I suggested that your happiness might be involved in
these momentous questions, when he expressed not only his willingness,
but his anxiety for you to do whatever your conscience demanded."
"Oh, May! Oh, little woman! simple--good soul!" cried Helen, bursting
into tears. "I cannot tell you _all_. You do not understand. There
is a terrible mystery, which, like an incubus, is brooding day and
night in my soul, and drives back all good angels who would enter.
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