The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 164: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. 155 with misfortune; how her strength of mind increases by suffering. Amy, although in years comparatively a child, in heart was a woman; sorrow had made her one: she had learnt its bitter lessons young. “< You must go!’ she sobbed; “ gratitude and pru- dence alike demand it. Forgive me my tears, Henry ; they were selfish. I did not think I had so bad a heart as to cause one moment’s pain to yours. The path of duty is sometimes very hard, but it 1s the best. Go,” she added; ‘‘ but oh, pity me when I am left alone! I shall soon have another task before me.” The poor girl alluded to her widowed mother, who, since the death of her son, had gradually been sinking into that deep despondency which is hopeless, because it is tearless. The loss of her boy, of whom she had been so proud, who was her sole support in life, had so completely crushed her heart, that no second blow could reach it. ““T know,” said Beacham; “ your mother, Amy; trust me, she will recover. ’Tis but the lethargy of grief—she has no disease.” ‘‘ That is not always necessary,” observed Amy ; “the grief which drinks the blood, withers the springs of life, dims the sad eye, and pales the sufferer’s cheek, may not be called disease, Henry—+tt 7s death! ” ‘© Death !”’ repeated her lover. ‘Look at her,” continued the orphan, for Amy’s mother was in the room, perfectly unconscious of the scene which was taking place before her; ‘‘ since poor COniiclooecl SS (SO