56 Turnaside Cottage.

down and cried after her until I dared not go home
to dinner, for fear of Nance’s cutting remarks upon
my woe-begone looks.

Even if I had had dry clothes to go in, I had no
heart to go and seek out Mr. Hurst, Miss Churchill’s
old tutor, on that first evening. I had not even the
heart to open my books, over which I usually em-
ployed my evenings, but crept off to bed as soon as I
dared. I called to mind what Miss Churchill had
told me about God being our best Comforter, and
that we might tell Him our troubles, small as well
as great; and I tried to do so, but could not put my
thoughts into words. So I said my usual prayers
and began a hymn, but my tears stopped me, and I
cried myself as quietly as I could to sleep.