with dismay and doubt,--when the Divine will became her
will, and there was no longer submission, but a most joyful surrender.
And no one, and least of all she herself, knew when the darkness was
vanquished by that clear uprising of pure radiance, or how those
brooding wings of peace settled on her soul. From that time, every
human being that came within her radius was welcome as a new object of
love. To give and yet to give, and never to be satisfied, was a daily
necessity of life to Elizabeth. "Now there is some one more to love,"
she would say to herself, when a new acquaintance was brought to her;
and, as the old adage is true that tells us love begets love, there
was no more popular person in Hadleigh than Elizabeth Middleton. She
had something to say in praise of every one; not that she was blind to
the faults of her neighbors, but she preferred to be silent and ignore
them.

And she was especially kind to Mattie. In the early days of their
intimacy, the young vicar would often speak to her of his sister Grace
and lament their enforced separation from each other. Miss Middleton
listened sympathetically, with the same sweet attention that she gave
to every man, woman, and child that laid claim to it; but once, when
he had finished, she said, rather gravely,--

"Do you know, Mr. Drummond, that I think your mother was right?"

"Right in dooming Grace to such a life?" he said, pausing in utter
surprise at her remark.

"Pardon me; it is not her mother who dooms her," returned Miss
Middleton, quickly, "but duty,--her own sense of right,--everything
that is sacred. If Mrs. Drummond had not decided that she could not be
spared, I am convinced from all you tell me, that Grace would still
have remained at home: her conscience would have been too strong for
her."

"Well, perhaps you are right," he admitted, reluctantly. "Grace is a
noble creature, and capable of any amount of self-sacrifice."

"I am sure of it," returned Miss Middleton, with sparkling eyes. "How
I should like to know her! it would be a real pleasure and privilege;
but I am very fond of your sister Mattie, too."

"Fond of Mattie!" It was hardly brotherly, but he could not help that
incredulous tone in his voice. How could such a superior woman as Miss
Middleton be even tolerant of Mattie?

"Oh, yes," she replied, quite calmly; "I have a great respect for your
sister. She is so unselfish and amiable, and there is something so
genuine in her. Before