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The Harvest of Years by Martha Lewis Beckwith Ewell
page 70 of 330 (21%)
gentle form to me, and held her tight while those ever ready tears of
sympathy filled my eyes full, and I spoke honestly when I said:

"I don't care a fig for Mr. Benton, and if he troubles you I will send
him back to Chicago, and I wish he had never come at all."

"Oh! oh! do not say it; I shall fear to have you know my heart, it makes
you rebellious. It is well that he came, as your brother needs him, and
you do wrong to say such words. Wait, Emily, keep quiet, you are like a
wind when your thoughts are stirred, and time, my love, will help you to
make your hand strong, and your heart also. It is on a full tide and
with a steady wind that vessels find the sea, while changeful blasts
will shipwreck them, and then cast their wrecks upon the shore. And so
it is with mortals; we have to keep saying, wait! while we pray to be
guided aright."

"I am always running off the track, Clara, I know; teach me to know
myself and let me help you; you are so different; I shall never be like
you," I said.

"And you do not wish to be, I hope," was her reply.

"I would like more of your quiet spirit, but that belongs to you, and if
I wait and work hard to do it, I shall always be upsetting what I wish
to do, and plaguing others instead of helping--" Mother came in and our
talk was at an end.




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