"Do you," continued Mrs. Pryor, mastering by an effort that tyrant timidity which made it difficult for her, even under present circumstances, to attempt the scrutiny of another's heart--"do you, at your age, fret yourself with cares for the future? Believe me, you had better not. Let the morrow take thought for the things of itself."
"True, dear madam. It is not over the future I pine. The evil of the day is sometimes oppressive--too oppressive--and I long to escape it."
"That is--the evil of the day--that is--your uncle perhaps is not--you find it difficult to understand--he does not appreciate----"
Mrs. Pryor could not complete her broken sentences; she could not manage to put the question whether Mr. Helstone was too harsh with his niece. But Caroline comprehended.

"Do you," continued Mrs. Pryor, mastering her timidity with an effort, "do you fret over cares for the future? Believe me, you had better not. Let the morrow take care of itself."
"True, dear madam. It is not over the future I pine. The evil of the day is sometimes oppressive, and I long to escape it."
"The evil of the day - that is - your uncle perhaps is not - he does not appreciate-"
Mrs. Pryor could not complete her broken sentences; she could not ask whether Mr. Helstone was too harsh with his niece. But Caroline comprehended.
