ing thee and thine. Father and mother, brother and sisters,
husband and children all remained to thee! Yet did'st thou never raise
thy heart in thanksgiving unto God, but suffered it to be depressed and
fretted at the nameless trifles that came vexingly.

Few persons, like Juliet, live to the age of thirty-five without having
suffered losses and afflictions. Juliet never paused to consider this.
She never reflected, even at a funeral, that thus far she had been
spared, but that her turn must come. When she gazed upon poverty and
distress no thought that such might have been, or might still be hers,
crossed her mind. She was more unhappy than the cripple or the beggar
that passed her by.

To such souls come awakenings, soon or late; sometimes gentle, sometimes
startling as an earthquake.

Captain St. Leger, who had seldom visited home of late years, on a
recent return had taken with him his invalid wife to China. He had
opened business relations at a principal port, which had gradually
become his more usual stopping place and home. Mrs. St. Leger had
improved somewhat on the voyage; and the first letter received from her
on her arrival was favorable. Little then were the daughters prepared
for the succeeding letter which contained intelligence of her death.

The long illness of their mother had prepared the elder daughters in a
measure for the event. Juliet had not anticipated such a thing. She had
thought only of seeing her mother return from her lengthy voyage
recruited in health and spirits, with her old taste and ability revived
for society and amusements. She shut herself up in a room and grieved
inordinately. Had her own and father's household lay dead before her,
she could not have assumed a wilder sorrow. In vain her husband soothed
and reasoned. Her mother had been a great sufferer; she could not expect
but that she must some time die; she was beyond the reach of pain; for
her the agony of death was over. All to no purpose. She would have no
comfort in husband, children, or sisters; her mother was dead, and she
would not be comforted.

John Temple thought it would do her good to see Dr. Browne; he
accordingly sent for him, and without her knowledge.

Dr. Browne called; but to see him Juliet persistently refused. The real
reason was because she was in wretched _deshabille_, her face was
swollen with weeping, and it would be such a weary work to do her hair.
No; her vanity was yet stronger than her grief, an