they declared with sufficient decision. So nothing more was said about
it. If it had been any other child but little Mary. Miss Bethia would
have counselled summary measures with her, and she would have been sent
to bed at once. As it was the little lady had her own way for a while,
and kept her eyes wide open, while David comforted her for the absence
of mamma. He played with her and told her stories, and by and by
undressed her gently, kissing her hands and her little bare feet, and
murmuring such tender words, that baby grew good and sweet, and forgot
that there was any one in the world she loved better than Davie.

As for Miss Bethia, as she watched them she was wondering whether it
could be the rough, thoughtless schoolboy, to whom she had so often
considered it her duty to administer both instruction and reproof. She
was not, as a general thing, very tolerant of boys. She intended to do
her duty by the boys of her acquaintance in the matter of rebuke and
correction, and in the matter of patience and forbearance as well, and
these things covered the whole ground, as far as her relations with boys
were concerned. And so when she saw David kissing his little sister's
hands and feet, and heard him softly prompting her in her "good words"
as the eyelids fell over the sleepy little eyes, she experienced quite a
new sensation. She looked upon a boy with entire approval. He had
pleased her in the afternoon, when he had told her so much about his
father's sermon. But she had hardly been conscious of her pleasure
then, because of the earnestness of her desire to impress him and his
brother with a sense of their responsibility as to the use they made of
their privileges and opportunities. It came back to her mind, however,
as she sat watching him and his little sister, and she acknowledged to
herself that she was pleased, and that David was not a common boy.
David would never have guessed her thoughts by the first words she
spoke.

"Put her to bed," said she. "She'll take cold."

"Yes, I will," said David, but he did not move to do it. "Miss Bethia,"
said he in a little, "if wee Polly were to die to-night and go to
Heaven, do you suppose she would always stay a little child as she is
now?"

Miss Bethia set down her flat-irons and looked at him in surprise.

"What on earth put that into your head?" said she, hastily.

"Look at her," said David. "It doesn't seem as though she could be any
sweeter even in