'
'May I ask you one question, Lily? How have you been spending this
Lent?'
'Robert, you are right,' cried Lily; 'you may well ask. I know I
have not gone to church properly, but how could you guess the
terrible way in which I have been indulging myself, and excusing
myself every unpleasant duty that came in my way? That was the very
reason of this dreadful neglect; well do I deserve to be miserable at
Easter, the proper time for joy. Oh! how different it will be.'
'It will be, I hope, an Easter marked by repentance and amendment,'
said the Rector.
'No, Robert, do not begin to be kind to me yet, you do not know how
very bad I have been,' said Lily; 'it all began from just after
Eleanor's wedding. A mad notion came into my head and laid hold of
me. I fancied Eleanor stern, and cold, and unlovable; I was
ingratitude itself. I made a foolish theory, that regard for duty
makes people cold and stern, and that feeling, which I confused with
Christian love, was all that was worth having, and the more Claude
tried to cure me, the more obstinate I grew; I drew Emily over to my
side, and we set our follies above everything. Justified ourselves
for idling, neglecting the children, indulging ourselves, calling it
love, and so it was, self-love.
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