urrents
of her life once more into a healthful channel.

This lady, a teacher in the school, had always felt a special interest
in Margaret, whose character somewhat puzzled her. With the tact of true
affection, she drew the young girl from the contemplation of her own
failure, by narrating to her the circumstances which, through no fault
of hers, had made her own life one of sorrow and of sacrifice.

Margaret herself, with a discernment beyond her years, had felt the high
tone of this lady's character, and the "proud sensibility" expressed in
her changing countenance. From her she could learn the lesson of hope
and of comfort. Listening to the story, she no longer repulsed the hand
of healing, but took patiently the soothing medicine offered by her
visitor.

This story of Margaret's school life she herself has told, in an episode
called "Marianna," which was published in her "Summer on the Lakes," and
afterwards embodied in Mr. Clarke's contribution to the memoir already
published. We have already quoted several passages from it, and will
here give her account of the end of the whole matter.

"She returned to life, but it was as one who has passed through the
valley of death. The heart of stone was quite broken in her; the fiery
will fallen from flame to coal.

"When her strength was a little restored, she had all her companions
summoned, and said to them: 'I deserved to die, but a generous trust
has called me back to life. I will be worthy of the past, nor ever
betray the trust, or resent injury more. Can you forgive the past?'
And," says the narrative, "they not only forgave, but with love and
earnest tears clasped in their arms the returning sister. They vied with
one another in offices of humble love to the humbled one; and let it be
recorded, as an instance of the pure honor of which young hearts are
capable, that these facts, known to some forty persons, never, so far as
I know, transpired beyond those walls."

In making this story public, we may believe Margaret to have been
actuated by a feeling of the value of such an experience both in the
study of character and in the discipline of young minds. Here was a
girl, really a child in age, but already almost a woman in selfhood and
imagination. Untrained in intercourse with her peers in age, she felt
and exaggerated her own superiority to those with whom her school life
first brought her in contact. This superiority she felt impelled to
assert and maintain.