od and knelt in a happy circle about her! A queen--an
angel--could not have received love and homage with a sweeter grace. Sue
Irvine cried an hour for joy and I wished I were one of the crying sort,
for I'm sure I was glad enough to do almost anything. Beautiful woman!
We sang to her the Welcome Home, Miss F. singing as much with her eyes
as with her voice, and Mr. and Mrs. Persico both cried, he like a little
child. Oh, that such evenings as this came oftener in one's life! All
that was beautiful and good in each of our hidden natures came dancing
out to greet her at her coming, and all petty jealousies were so quieted
and--why, what a rhapsody I'm writing! And to-morrow, our good
better natures tucked away, dear knows where, we shall descend with
business-like airs to breakfast, wish each other good morning, pretend
that we haven't any hearts. Oh, is this life! I won't believe it.
Our good genius has come back to us; now all things will again go on
smoothly; once more I can be a little girl and frolic up here instead of
playing Miss Dignity down-stairs.

_May 7th._--This evening I passed unavoidably through Miss ----'s room.
She was reading Byron as usual and looked so wretched and restless, that
I could not help yielding to a loving impulse and putting my hand on
hers and asking why she was so sad. She told me. It was just what I
supposed. She is trying to be happy, and can not find out how; reads
Byron and gets sickly views of life; sits up late dreaming about love
and lovers; then, too tired to pray or think good thoughts, tosses
herself down upon her bed and wishes herself dead. She did not tell me
this, to be sure, but I gathered it from her story. I alluded to
her religious history and present hopes. She said she did not think
continued acts of faith in Christ necessary; she had believed on Him
once, and now He would save her whatever she did; and she was not going
to torment herself trying to live so very holy a life, since, after all,
she should get to heaven just as well through Him as if she had been
particularly good (as she termed it). I don't know whether a good or a
bad spirit moved me at that minute, but I forgot that I was a mere child
in religious knowledge, and talked about _my_ doctrine and made it a
very beautiful one to my mind, though I don't think she thought it
so. Oh, for what would I give up the happiness of praying for a holy
heart--of striving, struggling for it! Yes, it is indeed true that