activity of her
affections, time was made more comprehensive, and circumstance more
weighty than to others. A day would produce changes in her which the
impressions of a week would not effect in less passionate natures; and
what were trifling incidents to the minds about her, were great events
to her.

Margaret began to consider what was to be done. The more she thought,
the more plainly she perceived that there was nothing to be done but to
occupy Hester, simply and naturally, with as many interests as possible.
This was safe practice, be the cause of her occasional discomposure
what it might. It was particularly desirable that she should not
continue the habit of sitting in silence for a considerable part of
every morning.

One day, just after the voices of the children had been heard in the
hall, giving token that school was over, Hester, sitting in the little
blue parlour alone, with her head on her hand, was apparently
contemplating the drawing on her board, but really considering that
Margaret was now beginning to be happy with her friend, and asking why
Margaret should not be happy with her friend, when Margaret herself
entered.

"Do you want Sophia?" said Hester. "She is up-stairs."

"No; I want you."

"Indeed!"

There was an ironical tone of surprise in the one word she spoke, which
let fall a weight upon Margaret's heart;--an old feeling, but one to
which she had made no progress towards being reconciled.

"I cannot help you with your German, you know. How can you pretend to
want me?"

"It is not about the German at all that I want you. Maria has found a
Spenser at last, and I am going to read her the `Hymn of Heavenly
Beauty,' I know you never can hear that often enough; so come!"

"Perhaps Miss Young had rather not. I should be sorry to intrude myself
upon her. But, however," continued she, observing Margaret's look of
surprise, "I will come. Do not wait for me, dear. I will come the
moment I have put up my drawing."

Margaret did wait, running over the keys of the open piano meanwhile.

"Shall I call Sophia too?" asked Hester, as she took up her work-bag.
"I dare say she never read any of Spenser."

"I dare say not," replied Margaret; "and she would not care about it
now. If you think we ought, we will call her. If not--"

Hester smiled, nodded, and led the way to the schoolroom without calling
Sophia. She had not been two minutes in the cordial presence of her
sister and Mar