trouble."

"Certainly, Gertrude; can you doubt it?"

"I did not use to think so. I knew I had, but I thought other folks were
more fortunate. I fancied that rich people were all very happy; and,
though you are blind, and that is a dreadful thing, I supposed you were
used to it; and you always looked so pleasant and quiet, I took it for
granted nothing ever vexed you now. And then, Willie!--I believed once
that nothing could make him look sad, he was always so gay; but when he
hadn't any place, I saw him really cry; and then, when Uncle True died,
and now again to-night, when he was telling me about going away, he
could hardly speak, he felt so badly. And so, Miss Emily, since I see
that you and Willie have troubles, and that tears will come, though you
try to keep them back, I think the world is full of trials, and that
every one gets a share."

"It is the lot of humanity, Gertrude, and we must not expect it to be
otherwise."

"Then, who can be happy, Miss Emily?"

"Those, only, my child, who have learned submission; those who, in the
severest afflictions, see the hand of a loving Father, and obedient to
his will, kiss the chastening rod."

"It is very hard, Miss Emily."

"It is hard, my child, and therefore few in this world can rightly be
called happy; but if, even in the midst of our distress, we can look to
God in faith and love, we may, when the world is dark around, experience
a peace that is a foretaste of heaven."

Willie's departure was sudden, and Mrs. Sullivan had only a week in
which to make those arrangements which a mother's thoughtfulness deems
necessary. Her hands were therefore full of work, and Gerty, whom Emily
at once relinquished for the short time previous to the vessel's
sailing, was of great assistance to her. Willie was very busy during the
day, but was always with them in the evening.

On one occasion, he returned home about dusk, and his mother and
grandfather both being out, and Gertrude having just put aside her
sewing, he said to her, "Come, Gerty, if you are not afraid of taking
cold, come and sit on the door-step with me, as we used to do in old
times; there will be no more such warm days as this, and we may never
have another chance to sit there, and watch the moon rise above the old
house at the corner."

"O Willie!" said Gertrude, "do not speak of our never being together in
the old place again! I cannot bear the thought; there is not a house in
Boston I could ever love a