uxurious belongings was something she had not now to say good bye to;
the time of parting had not come after all; would never come, as long
as she lived. Slowly Matilda pulled off hood and gloves and moccasins,
and went to the window. It was her own window! The hills and the
country in view from it were hers to look at whenever she pleased. Mrs.
Candy's bell could not sound there to break in upon anything. The child
was so happy that she was almost afraid; it seemed too good to be
really true and lasting. Gradually, as she stood there by the window,
looking at what seemed to her "the treasures of the snow," it came to
her mind what she had been thinking about that; the myriads of
wonderfully fashioned, exquisite crystal stars, for every one of which
God took care. Then she remembered, "the hairs of your head are all
numbered;" and if so, of course no event that happened to any of God's
children could be without meaning or carelessly sent. And also, if he
was so rich in the beauty and perfectness of the snow supply for the
earth, he was rich toward his children too, and would and could give
them what were the best things for them. But then came the question; if
he had brought a child like her into these new circumstances, into such
a new home, what did he mean her to do with it? what use should she
make of it? what effect was it intended to have upon her and upon her
life? This seemed a very great question to Matilda. She softly shut her
door and took out her Bible and kneeled down beside it. She would study
and pray till she found out.

It happened well that Mrs. Laval's man of business kept her a good
while. All that while Matilda kept up her study and search.
Nevertheless she was puzzled. It was a question too large for her. All
she could make out amounted to this; that she must be careful not to
forget whose child she was; that before Mrs. Laval she owed love and
obedience to her Saviour; that she must be on the watch for
opportunities; and not allow her new circumstances to distract or
divert her from them or make her unfitted for them when they came.

"I think I must watch," was Matilda's conclusion. "I might forget.
Norton will want me to do things,--and Mrs. Laval will want me to do
other things,--perhaps other people yet. If I keep to Mr. Richmond's
rule--'Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the Lord
Jesus,'--I shall be sure to be right; and He will teach me."

Some very earnest prayer ende