in the consciousness of duties well done," replied
May, looking with her full, earnest eyes, in Helen's face. "It is a
bad thing, dear, to stir up bitterness and strife in a soul which is
not moored in the faith and love of God; as it is a good work to keep
it, as far as we can, from giving further offence to heaven by
provoking its evil instincts, and inciting it, as it were, to fresh
rebellions. But I am sure, dear Helen, you will endeavor to do right."

"Yes," said Helen, slowly, "it will be the best policy; but, May
Brooke, I feel as if I am in a panther's den, or, better still, it's
like Beauty and the Beast, only, instead of an enchanted lover, I have
an excessively cross and impracticable old uncle to be amiable to.
Does he give you enough to eat?"

"Have I a starved look?" asked May, laughing.

"No; I confess you look in tolerably good plight. Do you ever see
company?"

"Not often. My uncle's habits are those of a recluse. When he comes
home from the bustle of the city, it would be a great annoyance to have
company around him: in _fact_, I do not care for it, and, I dare say,
we shall get on merrily without it."

"I dare say I shall die. Have you a piano here?"

May laughed outright, and answered in the negative.

"Well, how in the name of wonder do you manage to get on?" asked Helen,
folding her hands together, and looking puzzled.

"Just as you will have to, by and by," she replied; "but come, pin your
collar on, and come down to breakfast."

"I must say my prayers first," said Helen, dropping down suddenly on
her knees, and carelessly blessing herself, while she hurried over some
short devotion, crossed herself, and got up, saying:--

"But you keep servants, don't you?"

"I have heretofore attended to the domestic affairs of the house,"
replied May, shocked by her cousin's levity.

"Oh, heavens! I shall lose my identity! I shall grow coarse and fat;
my hands will become knobby and red; oh, dear! but perhaps you will not
expect me to assist you?"

"And why?" asked May, while the indignant blood flushed her cheeks, and
her impulse to say something sharp and mortifying to the young
worldling's pride, was strong within her; but she thought of the mild
and lowly Virgin, and the humility of her DIVINE SON, and added, in a
quiet tone, "Uncle Stillinghast will certainly expect you to make
yourself useful."

"And if I don't?"

"I fear you will rue it."

"Well, this looks more civilized!" s