Her cup was indeed very bitter; it was one which the luxuries that
surrounded her had not the least power to sweeten. Her husband was a man
possessing many noble qualities both of head and heart; but the fatal
love of gold, like those petrifying springs which change living twigs
to dead stone, had made him hardened, quarrelsome, and worldly. It had
drawn him away from the worship of his God; for there is deep truth in
the declaration of the apostle, that the covetous man is _an idolater_.
It was this miserable love of gold which had induced Sir Gilbert to
break with the family of his wife, and separate her from those to whom
her loving heart still clung with the fondest affection. Lady Grange
yearned for a sight of her early home; but gold had raised a barrier
between her and the companions of her childhood. And what had the
possession of gold done for the man who made it his idol? It had put
snares in the path of his only son; it had made the weak-minded but
head-strong youth be entrapped by the wicked for the sake of his wealth,
as the ermine is hunted down for its rich fur. It had given to himself
heavy responsibilities, for which he would have to answer at the bar of
Heaven; for from him unto whom much has been given, much at the last day
will be required.

Yes, Lady Grange was very miserable. And how did she endeavour
to lighten the burden of her misery? Was it by counting over her
jewels,--looking at the costly and beautiful things which adorned her
dwelling,--thinking of her carriages and horses and glittering plate, or
the number of her rich and titled friends? No; she sought comfort where
Widow Green had sought it when her child lay dangerously ill, and there
was neither a loaf on her shelf nor a penny in her purse. The rich lady
did what the poor one had done,--she fell on her knees and with tears
poured out her heart to the merciful Father of all. She told him her