She consented to do so, but said she thought they had better be intimate no longer; this would not satisfy Mary. The thought of being regarded by Sarah only as an ordinary acquaintance, was not to be endured : and she continued to plead most eloquently for a complete reunion, sobs and tears the while attesting the strength of her feelings. Some of the older girls passing through the room, at the time, laughingly declared she was love-sick. Sarah, at last, was persuaded to yield, and Mary was happy again—happy beyond expression.

She was never

Study was her greatest pleasure. behind her class; and while many of the scholars wished to be helped over every difficult task, it was her great delight to work them out, if possible. Thus passed eight years of childhood; bright, sunny, joyous days, as childhood's are, and perhaps even more so than those of most children. Naturally cheerful and hopeful, she had less of clouds than sunshine.

But the Christian reader may inquire: Did Mary grow in grace during her school days? We fear not. Study and play engrossed her whole attention: and having, while at school, no personal religious instruction, she gradually lost sight of her duty to GOD: though she still maintained her habit of prayer, and was at times conscious of a degree of love for her SAVOne day several of the girls were summoned one by one to the office of Dr. Howe, the superintendent of the institution, (Mary among the rest,) in or

IOUR.

der to converse with them relative to leaving the school. He asked her how she felt about it; informing her that room must be made for other pupils, as several were then waiting to enter. She replied that she did not choose to leave, but if he said so, she supposed she must. He asked her if she did not think she had acquired as good an educatiou as she could have done could she have seen, other circumstances being the same? She replied, yes, better. Then, he asked, what more do you want? This question was unanswerable: she felt indeed that she could ask no more, and submitted without another word.

Vacation day came at last, and a sad day it was to Mary, perhaps the saddest she had ever known. The joy usually experienced on such occasions was totally lost in the thought of leaving forever those dear friends and associates she had loved so long. She was especially grieved to part with her dear Sarah. Separation from her, with no immediate prospect of reunion, seemed a severe affliction. Sad and bitter were the tears she shed on that day; as she bade adieu to teachers, schoolmates and the dear old institution, and retired to her lonely home.

CHAPTER V.

HOME AND PUBLIC LIFE.

MA

ARY had now reached her seventeenth year, being physically well developed, but in mind and judgment not yet mature. Impulsive and extremely sensitive in her disposition, with no knowledge of the world, she was but poorly calculated to plan or care for herself, and was highly favored by a kind Providence, in being permitted to share a father's home and protection. She was now to live with her second step mother, whom her father had married soon after the death of his previous wife. This woman was totally different from the other; though a Christian, she was stiff, quiet and reserved in her manners, and therefore not so congenial with Mary as if she had been more social They lived together however on the best of terms, and became strongly attached to each other.

Her sister went from home to live, shortly after she left school, and they met but seldom; which added to her loneliness. This sister was very kind to Mary, and when they were together did all in her power to

make her happy; insisting that she should accompany her wherever she went, whereas many girls, at her age, might have considered a blind sister an incumbrance. Mary had a half-brother at home, who helped her to while away some lonely hours, by walking with and sometimes reading to her. Her step-mothhad a daughter, then about eight years of age, whom she came to regard with a sisterly love. But for a time she was quite unhappy. The quiet monotony of her present life was so different from the past; she had little to amuse or divert her. Sarah's absence was a special source of grief: she would sit for days, gloomily pondering over by-gone happy hours spent with her, contrasting them with her present lonely situation.

- About two months after their return from school she received a letter from Sarah, containing an invitation to visit her. Her heart leaped with joy at the thought. But would her father consent? She hardly dared ask him, lest he should refuse. Trembling between hope and fear she went to him and presented her request. He hesitated for awhile; but his desire. to gratify his dear daughter finally overcame seeming impracticabilities, and he consented that she should go. A few weeks were spent very pleasantly with her friend; and then she wrote home asking leave to prolong her stay. This, however, was denied; her father writing, in answer, that an invitation awaited her, to travel with a gentleman and an old schoolmate, giving

concerts.

But she could not bear the thought of again parting with Sarah, and it was finally arranged that she should accompany her home.

When the time arrived for starting on their tour, the gentleman was persuaded to allow Sarah to go with them, on condition that she would demand no wages, save the payment of her traveling expenses; to which arrangement she consented. Mary was not at all disconcerted in presence of an audience; and when things went on smoothly, enjoyed public life very well. They were not very successful, however, and continued in the business but a short time. The company separated, and Mary was left lonely as ever. Some time after this, she and Sarah were applied to, by an acquaintance of the latter, to accompany him and his wife on a similar tour. They had better success this time, and traveled during the Winter, but separated again in the Spring.

These seasons of absence from her dearest friend were always attended with great sadness and despondency yet she esteemed it a great comfort to pray for and hear from her. Sarah was sometimes negligent in her correspondence, in which case Mary's anxiety became almost insupportable; as her friend's health was quite frail. The following letter in verse was composed on one of these occasions, but never sent, as she received tidings from Sarah before it was committed to paper.