gel, never leave her!"

And the angel answered:

"I will stay with her as long as she lives, and will never leave her
till I leave her at the very door of heaven."

Then the teachers began to put up their books, and Susy's papa and mamma
kissed her, and said:

"We have had a great deal of comfort in our little daughter; and, with
God's blessing, we shall see her grow up a loving, patient, and obedient
child--full of joy and peace and rich in faith and good works."

So they all bade each other good-night and went thankfully to bed.

The next entry in the journal notes a trait of character, or rather of
temperament, which often excited the wonder and also the anxiety of
her friends. It caused her no little discomfort, but she could never
withstand its power.

_March 21st_.--I have been busy with a sewing fit and find the least
interesting piece of work I can get hold of, as great a temptation
as the most charming. For if its _charm_ does not absorb my time and
thoughts, the eager haste to finish and get it out of the way, does.
This is my life. I either am stupefied by ill-health or sorrow, so as
to feel no interest in anything, or am _absorbed_ in whatever business,
work or pleasure I have on hand.

But neither anxiety about her child, household cares, or any work she
had in hand, so absorbed her thoughts as to render her insensible to the
sorrows and trials of others. On the contrary, they served rather to
call forth and intensify her kindly sympathies. A single case will
illustrate this. A poor little girl--one of those waifs of humanity in
which a great city abounds--had been commended to her by a friend. In a
letter to this friend, dated March 17, 1856, she writes:

That little girl came, petticoat and all; we gave her some breakfast,
and I then went down with her to Avenue A. On the way, she told me that
you gave her some money. To my great sorrow we found, on reaching the
school, that they could not take another one, as they were already
overflowing. As we came out, I saw that the poor little soul was just
ready to burst into tears, and said to her "Now you're disappointed, I
know!" whereupon she actually looked up into my face and _smiled_. You
know I was afraid I never should make her smile, she looked so forlorn.
I brought her home to get some books, as she said she could read, and
she is to come again to-morrow. A lady to whom I told the whole story,
sent me some stockings that would about go on to he