fe.

'She finished, but I had nothing to reply. She had said all. Hitherto I
had led her, but now her experience was deeper than mine. Besides, I
could then less than ever understand the life that was opening before
her, for I had just yielded my heart and promised my hand to one whom I
loved; and though I by no means thought it impossible that she, too,
might have tried the same path, yet I knew she thought so; and I could
not conceive how she could look forward with contentment to a life in
which that element of happiness was wanting. I could only assure her of
my own warm affection, an assurance which gave her a pleasure that it
always makes me happy to think of.

'Notwithstanding the apparently contradictory evidence of her late
depression, her new experience was not precarious and uncertain: it was
firm, enduring, to be _rested_ upon in the most trying emergencies; yet
it was not, for many years, unwavering. During all that period of a
woman's life when looks and manners pass for so much, and the real
character for so little, she suffered at times greatly. As she went
onward, every new phase of the feelings which possess a girl's heart
brought with it its own pang, and each had to be overcome, some by
stifling, some by postponement to another existence, and others by
studying to dissever, if possible, the essential sentiment from the
shows in which it was imbedded. She was unwilling passively to outgrow
her trials, feeling that thereby she would lose the strength they were
intended to give. Her work, however, helped her more than anything. She
was not eager to enter upon it. She did not stretch forth impatient,
unskilled hands toward what her Father had designed for her. Entirely
confident, she was right, she was at ease, knowing her work would come
to her in the proper time, and it did.

'I must say something about this work of hers, else you will be misled.
She undertook to do that which others would not do, or would not do
well, owing to a natural dislike to the thing itself. Not intending to
become a drudge, she did not allow indolence or sentimentality to shift
upon her that which others would be all the better for doing themselves.
She knew what Master she served, and looked to Him for guidance, and not
to the wishes and opinions of her fellow mortals. Gradually she found
enough to do, first in her own house, and then outside. Friends and
acquaintances called upon her, philanthropic societies applied for he