isturbed--and she awoke at early dawn content, almost happy. The
morning air came freshly to her face as she leaned out of the window
to gaze once more on the extended landscape. Far away upon the
swelling hill-side, patches of snow yet lingered, while near them the
fresh grass was springing; and the old wood, at the back of the
house, was clothed anew in emerald verdure. The sombre pines were
lighted by the glittering sunlight, as it lingered lovingly among
their dim branches ere bursting away to illumine the very depths of
the solitude with smiles. A pleasant perfume was wafted from the
Arbutus, just putting forth its delicate blossoms from their
sheltering covert of dark-green leaves, mingled with the breath of the
snowy-petaled dogwood, and the blue violets that were bedded in the
rich moss on the banks of the little stream. The brook itself went
singing on its way as it wound through the darksome forest, and fell
with a plash, and a murmur, over the huge stones that would have
turned it aside from its course.

It was the first bright day of spring; and it seemed as if nature had
assumed its loveliest dress to tempt the young girl to forego her
resolve. "Home never looked so beautiful," thought she, turning from
the window; and her step was not light as usual when she joined the
family. Mrs. Gordon was serene as ever; no one could have told from
her manner that she was about to part with her daughter for the first
time; but the children were sobbing bitterly--for they had just been
told that the day had come when their sister was to leave them. They
clung to her dress as she entered, and begged her not to go.

"What shall we do without _you_, Mary?" said they; "the house will be
so lonesome."

Even Stephen, although when the plan was first revealed to him had
opposed it obstinately, was melted to something like forgiveness when
he saw that nothing could change her firm determination.

"I suppose we must _learn_ to live without you, Molly," said he; "take
good care of yourself, child--but let's have breakfast now."

The odd combination, spite of her sadness, brought the old smile to
Mary's lip; and when breakfast was over, and the deacon took the large
family Bible from its appointed resting-place, and gathered his little
flock about him, they listened quietly and earnestly to the truths of
holy writ. That family Bible! It was almost the first thing that Mary
could recollect. She remembered sitting on her father