n her father alluded to his wife,
Hester ran out of the room; when the servants spoke of their late
mistress, Hester turned pale, stamped her feet, and told them to be
quiet.

"You are not worthy to speak of my mother," she electrified them all one
day by exclaiming: "My mother is an angel now, and you--oh, you are not
fit to breathe her name!"

Only to one person would Hetty ever voluntarily say a word about the
beloved dead mother, and that was to little Nan. Nan said her prayers, as
she expressed it, to Hetty now; and Hetty taught her a little phrase to
use instead of the familiar "God bless mother." She taught the child to
say, "Thank God for making mother into a beautiful angel;" and when Nan
asked what an angel was, and how the cozy mother she remembered could be
turned into one, Hester was beguiled into a soft and tearful talk, and
she drew several lovely pictures of white-robed angels, until the little
child was satisfied and said:

"Me like that, Hetty--me'll be an angel too, Hetty, same as mamma."

These talks with Nan, however, did not come very often, and of late they
had almost ceased, for Nan was only two and a half, and the strange, sad
fact remained that in three months she had almost forgotten her mother.

Hester on her way to school this morning cried for some time, then she
sat silent, her crape veil still down, and her eyes watching furtively
her fellow-passengers. They consisted of two rather fidgety old ladies,
who wrapped themselves in rugs, were very particular on the question of
hot bottles, and watched Hester in their turn with considerable curiosity
and interest. Presently one of them offered the little girl a sandwich,
which she was too proud or too shy to accept, although by this time she
was feeling extremely hungry.

"You will, perhaps, prefer a cake, my dear?" said the good-natured little
old lady. "My sister Agnes has got some delicious queen-cakes in her
basket--will you eat one?"

Hester murmured a feeble assent, and the queen-cake did her so much good
that she ventured to raise her crape veil and to look around her.

"Ah, that is much better," said the first little old lady. "Come to this
side of the carriage, my love; we are just going to pass through a lovely
bit of country, and you will like to watch the view. See; if you place
yourself here, my sister Agnes' basket will be just at your feet, and you
can help yourself to a queen-cake whenever you are so disposed."

"Thank