She took up a little Bible that lay on her table, and began to read it.
She could not pray as yet. She did not feel kind enough for that. Emilie
had often said to her that she should be at peace with every one before
she lifted up her heart to the "God of peace." She turned over the
leaves and tried to find the chapter, which she knew very well, about
the king who took account of his servants, and who forgave the man the
great debt of ten thousand talents; and then when that man went out and
found his servant who owed him but one hundred pence, he took him by the
throat, and said, "Pay me that thou owest." In vain did the man beseech
for patience, he that had only just been forgiven ten thousand talents
could not have pity on the man who owed him but one hundred pence.

Often had Edith read this chapter, and very just was her indignation
against the hard-hearted servant, who, with his king's lesson of mercy
and forgiveness fresh in his memory, could not practise the same to one
who owed him infinitely less than he had done his master; and yet here
was little Edith who could not forgive Fred his injuries, when,
nevertheless, God was willing to forgive hers. Had Fred injured her as
she had injured God? surely not; and yet she might now kneel down and
receive at once the forgiveness of all her _great_ sins. Nay, more: she
had been receiving mercy and patience at the hands of her Heavenly
Father many years. She had neglected Him, done many things contrary to
his law, owed him, indeed, the ten thousand talents, and yet she was
spared.

She had a great deal of revenge in her heart still, however; and she
could not, reason as she would, try as she would, read as she would, get
it out, so she sunk down on her knees, and lifted up her heart very
sincerely, to ask God to take it away. She had often said her prayers,
and had found no difficulty in that, but now it seemed quite different.