regarding religion; how eagerly had they listened when she had explained
the scriptures; with what different feelings did they now regard the
sabbath as a day of holy rest, and prayer, and praise, instead of a day
of weariness, dreaded and hated. Did she not remember how shocked she
had been, when Amy said, that she liked all the days except sundays, and
the others had expressed the same. And oh, how glad and thankful she
felt when Amy not long since, one sunday afternoon had clasped her arms
round her neck, and exclaimed that she liked Miss Leicester's sundays
very much. All this she had been able to do through divine blessing upon
her endeavors to benefit the children, and would she leave them when her
work had only just begun? No, no, how wrong and selfish had she been, if
all joy and happiness had fled, she still had her work before her--her
duty to perform. With such thoughts as these, her tears became less
bitter. Soft tear of quiet resignation followed the bitter rebellious
ones she had shed so abundantly, and she resolved by steady abnegation
of self, to forget the past (as much as might be) in the business and
duties of the present. Then with a prayer for strength to keep this
resolution, and patience to wait, and work until such time as rest
should be vouchsafed her, she fell asleep.

With a severe headache, and extremely weak from the trying night she had
past, Isabel waited for the doctor next day, though she had determined
to give him a favorable answer, she wondered much how she could go, when
she felt almost unable to raise her hand to her head. She was feverish
and restless, very anxious for his arrival, yet dreading it, for it
seemed as though she were about by her own act, to put an end to these
quiet days of rest, and dreamy reverie, which she fain would prolong.

However, when Dr. Heathfield came, she managed to return his greeting
with some degree of cheerfulness.

"I trust you feel better to-day," he said.

"No, rather worse, the dose you administered was anti-narcotic I assure
you, but I have decided to accede to Mrs. Arlington's wishes. I will do
my utmost for the children, but I fear that will be very little," and
she smiled faintly from her pillow.

"Pooh, nonsense, you are not to teach at present, we all know you can't
do that," returned the doctor cheerfully, "what good would the poor
children get if they were cooped up in a school-room all day, time
enough for that when they come home a