"I don't know, Emilie, I feel it much longer."
"_Do_ you? then you have not been so happy as I hoped to have made you,
dear; I have been a great deal occupied with other things, but it could
scarcely be helped."
"No, Emilie, I have not been happy a great part of the holidays, but I
am happy now; happier at least, and it was no fault of yours at any
time. I know now why I was so discontented with my condition, and why I
thought I had more to try me than anybody else. I feel that I was in
fault; that I _am_ in fault, I should say; but, oh Emilie, I am trying,
trying hard, to--" and here, Edith, softened by the remembrance that
soon she and her friend must part, burst into tears.
"And you have succeeded, succeeded nobly, Edith, my darling. I have
watched you, and but that I feared to interfere, I would have noticed
your victories to you. I may do so now."
"My _victories_, Emilie! Are you making fun of me? I feel to have been
so very irritable of late.--My _victories!_"
"Just because, dear, you take notice of your irritability as you did not
use to do, and because you have constantly before your eyes that great
pattern in whom was no sin.
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