er, I think she is too," thought Ann, after she had
mused her irritation away a little. "He is very polite and
agreeable, and it was very pleasant to have him always ready to take
me out when I wanted to go, but I never felt perfectly easy in his
company; I was always afraid I might say something dreadful;
something that would shock his wonderful goodness. But Christine
seemed perfectly at home. How bright and lovely she looked! I will
not allow evil thoughts to triumph over me. I will not be vexed
simply because she eclipsed me, where no one ever did before. She is
a dear, affectionate girl, and I made a vow before God to love her
always, never to be to her as I was once."

A fervent prayer brought back to Ann all her former tranquillity,
and she pressed a kiss upon Christine's forehead, full of repentant
affection. Just before she went to sleep, she thought to herself,

"Well, if I may trust my woman's perception, Darcet will be
exclaiming, after he has seen Christine a few times more,

"Oh! love, young love, bound in thy rosy bands."

Ann's perception proved correct. About a year after these
cogitations, Christine became Mrs. Darcet. The sisters were much
changed, but Christine the most so. There was a child-like
simplicity and sweetness beaming from her young face, which Ann
needed. Yet had much haughtiness faded from the brow of that
beautiful girl; she had grown better; but as yet her heart had not
been schooled in suffering as Christine's had. There was deep
affection in the warm tears that fell upon the bride's cheek, as
poor Ann felt that she had indeed gone to bless another with her
tender goodness. Christine's warm heart grew yet more sunny in her
own happy little home, and her feelings more open and expansive,
beneath the genial influence of friendly eyes.

THE HOURS OF LIFE.

TWILIGHT.--The dewy morning of childhood has passed, and the noon of
youth has gone, and the gloom of twilight is gathering over my
spirit. Alas! alas! how my heart sinks in a wan despair! One by one
my hopes have died out, have faded like the gleams of sunshine that
have just vanished beneath the grove of trees. Hopes! Ah, such warm,
bright, beautiful, loving hopes! But, methinks, than lived upon the
earth, unlike the gleaming rays of sunshine that are fed from
heaven. The earth's darkness dims not their glory; pure and radiant
they shine behind the black shadow. But human hopes are earth-born;
they spring from the ear