culty in
extricating myself. This defect was further complicated in this
particular case by a good quality which has led me into as many
difficulties as the most serious of defects. There was among these
children a little girl though much less pretty than Noemi, who, gentle
and amiable as she was, did not get nearly so much notice taken of
her. She was even fonder of making me her companion than Noemi, of
whom she was rather jealous. I have never been able to do a thing
which would give pain to any one. I had a vague sort of idea that a
woman who was not very pretty must be unhappy and feel the inward pang
of having missed her fate. I was oftener, therefore, with her than
with Noemi, because I saw that she was melancholy. So I allowed my
first love to go off at a tangent, just as, later in life, I did in
politics, and in a very bungling sort of way. Once or twice I noticed
Noemi laughing to herself at my simple folly. She was always nice with
me, but at times her manner was slightly sarcastic, and this tinge of
irony, which she made no attempt to conceal, only rendered her more
charming in my eyes.

The struggles amid which I grew to manhood nearly effaced her from my
memory. In after years I often fancied that I could see her again, and
one day I asked my mother what had become of her. "She is dead," my
mother replied, "and of a broken heart. She had no fortune of her
own. When she lost her father and mother, her aunt--a very respectable
woman who kept the equally respectable Hotel ----, took her to live
there. She did the best she could. Even as a child, when you knew
her, she was charming, but at two-and-twenty she was marvellously
beautiful. Her hair--which she tried in vain to keep out of sight
under a heavy cap--came down over her neck in wavy tresses like
handfuls of ripe wheat. She did all that she could to conceal her
beauty. Her beautiful figure was disguised by a cape, and her long
white hands were always covered with mittens. But it was all of no
use. Groups of young men would assemble in church to see her at her
devotions. She was too beautiful for our country, and she was as good
as she was beautiful." My mother's story touched me very much. I have
thought of her much more frequently since, and when it pleased God to
give me a daughter I named her Noemi.

LITTLE NOEMI.

PART II.

The world in its progress cares little more how many it crushes than
the car of the idol of Juggernaut. The whole