Thus the summer and autumn passed away, and November--with its short, gloomy days, and grey, foggy atmosphere--had set in, when one day, as Flora was looking over a list of new books, her hand suddenly trembled, and the paper almost fell from it, but she caught it in the other hand, and, with eager eyes, read over and over again to herself one title which appeared to grow until it covered the whole list, and she could see only it. That title was, "THE CATHOLIC CHURCH: ITS TEACHINGS AND ITS INFLUENCE UPON THE HUMAN HEART AND MIND," by Edwin Earnscliffe.
"My child! what is the matter? You look so frightened!" exclaimed Mrs. Adair who was sitting opposite to her.
"Write for it, mamma," was Flora's answer, as she handed her the list, and pointed to Mr. Earnscliffe's name. "I ---- something or other makes my hand shake to-day, so I would rather not write myself."
"It is better for you not to get it, dearest--it can only give you pain."
"Mamma, not read _his_ book! I _must_ read it whatever it is. I can guess but too well what its spirit must be; but, believe me, it is better that I should _know_ its contents than that my imagination should picture them to me. Mamma, it would be cruel to wish to keep _his_ book from me."
"My poor child! I only meant to spare you more suffering, and therefore it is that I would rather not get that book for you."
"Yes, I know; but, as I said, to refuse it to me will only add to my suffering. Write, mamma, please to write!" And Flora stood up, got a writing-book, and placed it before her mother; then she knelt down beside her, and again said in a low, pleading tone, "Write."
"I cannot refuse you, darling," replied Mrs. Adair, "yet to read that book will only foster sad memories which you must forget if you are ever to have peace of mind again. Would I could teach you to forget!" Mrs. Adair sighed deeply, and laid her hand on Flora's head.
"It would be as easy to teach the ivy to detach itself from the oak round which it twines, as to teach me to forget," rejoined Flora slowly, as she looked up earnestly at her mother.
Again Mrs. Adair sighed as she silently took the pen and wrote the desired order.
The book arrived from London by return of post, and Flora eagerly seized it, and carried it off to her room.