A New England Tale. Catharine Maria Sedgwick

home, at the age of sixteen, with a farrago of romance superadded to her home-bred duplicity.

      Martha was two years older than her sister, and more like her mother: violent and self-willed, she openly resisted her Mother's authority, whenever it opposed her wishes. From such companions, Jane soon found she had nothing to expect of improvement or pleasure; but, though it may seem quite incredible to some, she was not unhappy. The very labour her aunt imposed on her was converted into a blessing, for it occupied her mind, and saved her from brooding on the happy past, or the unhappy present. She now found exercise for the domestic talents Mary had so skilfully cultivated. Even the unrelenting Mrs. Wilson was once heard to say, with some apparent pleasure, that "Jane was gifted at all sorts of work." Her dexterous hand was often put in requisition by her idle and slatternly cousins, and their favour was sometimes won by her kind offices. But more than all, and above all, as a source of contentment and cheerfulness—better far than ever was ​boasted of perennial springs, or "Amreeta cups of immortality"—was Jane's unfailing habit of regulating her daily life by the sacred rules of our blessed Lord. She would steal from her bed at the dawn of day, when the songs of the birds were interpreting the stillness of nature, and beauty and fragrance breathing incense to the Maker, and join her devotions to the choral praise. At this hour she studied the word of truth and life, and a holy beam of light fell from it on her path through the day. Her pleasures at this social period of her life were almost all solitary, except when she was indulged in a visit to Mary, whose eye was continually watching over her with maternal kindness. The gayety of her childhood had been so sadly checked by the change of her fortunes, that her countenance had taken rather a serious and reserved cast. Mr. Lloyd's benevolent feelings were awakened by her appearance; and Mary, whose chief delight was in expatiating on the character of her favourite, took care to confirm his favourable impressions by setting in the broadest light her former felicity, her present trials, and her patience in tribulation.

      Mary had orders to leave the furniture in a little room that had formerly been assigned to Jane, precisely as she left it, and to tell Jane that it was still called, and should be considered, her room.

      "And that beautiful honeysuckle, Jane," said Mr. Lloyd to her, "which thy tasteful hand has ​so carefully trained about the window, is still thine."

      These, and many other instances of delicate attention from Mr. Lloyd, saved her from the feeling of forlornness that she might otherwise have suffered.