"Why, it would have been rather absurd," said Mrs. May, laughing, "to
begin to torment myself whether you were all fond of me! You all
have just as much affection for me, from beginning to end, as is
natural, and what's the use of thinking about it? No, no, Margaret,
don't go and protest that you love me, more than is natural," as
Margaret looked inclined to say something very eager, "that would be
in the style of Regan and Goneril. It will be natural by-and-by that
you should, some of you, love some one else better, and if I cared
for being first, what should I do then?"

"Oh, mamma! But," said Margaret suddenly, "you are always sure of
papa."

"In one way, yes," said Mrs. May; "but how do I know how long--" Calm
as she was, she could not finish that sentence. "No, Margaret, depend
upon it, the only security is not to think about ourselves at all,
and not to fix our mind on any affection on earth. The least share
of the Love above is the fullness of all blessing, and if we seek
that first, all these things will be added unto us, and are," she
whispered, more to herself than to Margaret.




CHAPTER III.



Wee modest crimson-tipped flower,