" Do not let us suppose that May, in the overflowing of
her devout soul, forgot others, and thought only of herself; oh, no!
that charity, without which, all good works are as "sounding brass,"
animated her faith; as tenderly and lovingly she plead at the mercy
seat for her stern old guardian; and although she knew that he scorned
all religion, and would have given her rough jibes and scoffs for her
charity, she prayed none the less for his salvation; and now she sought
Heaven to strengthen and console the wounded and bereaved stranger who
had come amongst them. By the time she left her oratory, she had laid
by a store of strength and happiness, more than sufficient for the
trials of the day. Yet May was not faultless. She had a quickness and
sharpness of temper, which very often tempted her to the indulgence of
malice and uncharitableness; and a proud spirit, which could scarcely
brook injustice. But these natural defects were in a measure
counterbalanced by a high and lofty sense of responsibility to Almighty
God--a feeling of compassion and forgiveness for the frailties and
infirmities of others, and a generous and discriminating consideration
for the errors of all.

When Mr. Stillinghast came down that morning, everything was bright and
comfortable in the sitting-room. A clear fire burned in the grate; the
toast and coffee sent up an inviting odor; and the table was spread
with the whitest of linen, on which the cups and saucers were neatly
arranged. The morning paper was drying on a chair by the fire, and
over all, flickered the glorious sunshine, as it gushed like a golden
flood through the clustering geraniums in the window.

"Good morning, sir!" said May, blithely, as she came in from the
kitchen with a covered plate in her hand.

"Good morning," he growled; "give me my breakfast."

"I thought you'd like a relish for your breakfast, sir, and I broiled a
few slices of beef; see how very nice it is," said May, uncovering the
plate, and placing it before him.

"Humph! well, don't do it again. I cannot afford such extravagance; I
must curtail my expenses. 'Gad! if I should have another beggar thrown
on my hands, we must starve," he said, bitterly.

May did not relish this speech at all; up rose the demon, _pride_, in
her soul, instigating her to a sharp retort, and vindictive anger; but
she thought of Bethlehem, and grew calm.

"I hope not, sir," she said, gently. "You have cast bread on the
waters