day.

"She's a good girl," would simply reply Mrs. Arlington, speaking
almost without thought. Grace was a good girl; her mother felt this,
and from her heart her lips found utterance.

It seemed, all through the day, that Grace could not do enough for
the old man's comfort. Once she drew him into her room, as he was
passing her door, to show him some pictures that she had painted. As
he sat looking at them, he noticed a small, handsomely bound Bible
on her table. Taking it up, he said--

"Do you read this, Grace?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, "every day." And there was such a light of
goodness in her eyes, as she looked up into his face, that Mr.
Archer felt, for a moment or two, as if the countenance of an angel
was before him.

"Why do you read it?" he continued after a pause.

"It teaches us the way to heaven," said Grace.

"And you are trying to live for heaven?"

"I try to shun all evil as sin. Can I do more?"

All the minister's creeds, and doctrines, and confessions of faith,
which he had ever considered the foundations upon which Christian
life was to be built, seemed, for a moment or two, useless lumber
before the simple creed of this loving, pure-hearted maiden. To seek
to disturb this state of innocence and obedience by moody polemics,
he felt, instinctively, to be wrong.

"Perhaps not," was his half abstracted reply; "perhaps not. Yes,
yes; shun what is evil, and the Lord will adjoin the good."

"Yes, yes; she _is_ a good girl, as her mother says," was frequently
repeated by Uncle Archer during the day, when he would think of
Grace.

Evening came, and young and old began to gather in the parlours. The
minister was introduced to one and another, as they arrived, and was
much gratified with the respect and attention shown to him by all.
Grace soon drew around him three or four of her young friends, who
listened to what he had to say with an interest that gratified his
feelings. Nothing had been said to Grace of her uncle's prejudice
against dancing; she was, therefore, no little surprised to see the
sudden change in his manner, when she said to a young lady in the
group around him--

"Come! you must play some cotillions for us. We're going to have a
dance."

After going with the young lady to the piano, and opening it for
her, Grace went back to her uncle, whose face she found deeply
clouded.

"A'n't you well, uncle?" she asked, affectionately.

"Oh yes, child, I am well enough in body," w