ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 131

that! She’s not half as well to look at now as
the farmer’s wife. Ah! ‘All is not gold that
glitters!’ Tfow happy it is for those who be-
lieve in the truth of this proverb, and from it
learn to be content !

It might be a week after this occurrence that
Helen sent for Rose. The lady either was, or
fancied herself better, and said so, adding, it
was in her (Rose’s) power to make her happier
than she had ever been. Reverting to the period
when her cousin visited her in London, she
alluded to what she had suffered in becoming a
mother, and yet having her hopes destroyed by
the anxiety and impetuosity of her own nature.
‘* At first,” she said, “ the trouble was anything
but deep-rooted, for I fancied God would send
many more, but it was not so; and now the
title I so desired must go to the child of a wo-
man—Oh, Rose, how I do hate her !—a woman
who publicly thanks God that no plebeian blood
will disgrace my husband’s title and her family.
1 would peril my soul to cause her the pain she
has caused me.”

‘“‘ You do so now,” said Rose, gently but
solemnly. ‘Oh! think that this violence and
revenge sins your own soul, and is every way
unworthy of you.”

Helen did not heed the interruption. “To
add to my agony,” she continued, “ my husband
cherishes her son as if it were his own; the boy
stands even aoe between his affections and me.