and taking his
arm familiarly, "I think you have grown wonderfully handthome, thince
you have been at school?"

Chester made some nonsensical reply, and, having conducted her to the
sitting-room, coolly turned about, and reentered the parlor.

Hepsy's face was hidden in her hands. She was weeping convulsively.

"I thought what I said would make you happy," he whispered.

Hepsy started; she choked back her sobs; she wiped her streaming eyes.

"It should make me happy," she articulated, in broken tones.
"But,--leave me alone a little while--I shall feel better soon."

"You are too much alone," said Chester. "You must come with me now."

"My eyes are so red!"

"The company is so much interested in Father Brighthopes' story, that
nobody will see you. Come!--you must."

Chester was obliged to add gentle force to persuasion, to accomplish his
kind design. Finally, she told him to go before, and she would come
directly. He took his place in the circle around the old clergyman, and
presently she glided to an obscure position, behind Mr. Royden's chair.
There, unobserved, she indulged in her melancholy thoughts, until they
were diverted by Father Brighthopes' remarks.

"Thus, my friends," said he, "you see that I have reason to bless the
wisdom that rained upon my head the grievous sufferings of which I
complained so bitterly at the time. Truly, whom the Lord loveth he
chasteneth. Steel gets its temper from the furnace. What is gold good
for, unless it has been fused and hammered? All our trials are teachers;
then temptations form themselves into a sort of examining committee, to
see how much we have learned by the discipline,--to see how strong we
are. If all our worldly circumstances were pleasant and smooth, who
would not be contented with them? But storms come; winds blow, and rains
pour; then we turn our eyes inwardly. When earth is dark, we look up.
When men prove false, we remember the Friend who never fails us. In the
gloomy valley of the present, we joyfully turn our sight to the soft
blue hills of an infinite future. Clouds now and then overcast the sky;
but the sun shines forever. So there is an eternal sun of Love pouring
floods of blessed light upon our souls continually, notwithstanding the
misty sorrows that sometimes float between, and cast their momentary
shades.

"Yes," continued the old man, warming and glowing with the theme, "I
bless God for all I have suffered, as all of you will, some day,"--h