"Indeed, I am not worthy of such tender and restless
affection."
"Look up, Helen--look up, my love! I am prouder of you this day than
any king could be of his crown, but if religion is going to make you
abject and tame, and mistrustful, I will have none of it," said the
worldly man, in an impatient tone.
"Religion gives birth to nothing gloomy. Even in her penitential
tears, there are rainbows," cried May, "She is the mother of all that
is lovely, cheerful, amiable, and perfect. Even our tribulations must
be borne with joy, because the divine hope which sanctifies them leads
the soul up to God its Father."
"That seems right--it sounds right. I know positively nothing about
it, and wish I did. If I could only get Helen out once more, I should
be the happiest fellow on earth," said Mr. Jerrold, with a sad and
puzzled expression on his fine face. "I suspected all along that
perhaps some religious crank had got into Helle's head, from the
circumstances of her allowing no picture but that _Mater Dolorosa_ to
come into her room. It was a queer fancy in one so devoted to
paintings as she is. I have been wishing ever since she got it to buy
a _pendant_ for it. I found a splendid '_Niobe in Tears_'--paid an
exorbitant price for it--brought it home, thinking Helen would be
charmed, but she banished it to the library. Then I purchased a
'Hecate'--a wonderfully beautiful thing, but that was also condemned,
and sent into banishment.
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