ne of Mrs. Arnold's
school-fellows. Mrs. Arnold was the widow of a clergyman, with a very
limited income, and Isabel was unwilling to trespass upon the kindness
of one whose means she knew to be so small. But she had no alternative
at the time and trusted that it would not be long before she would be
able to procure the situation she had in view, or some other. The tea
remained untasted on the table, for Isabel was absorbed by the
melancholy thoughts that filled her heart. She tried to feel resigned,
but her pride was wounded at the idea of becoming a 'governess.' She had
been the spoiled petted daughter of a wealthy merchant of the city of
New York, whose chief delight had been to indulge her in every way. But
still Mr. Leicester had been a truly good and christian man, and had
taught his daughter not to set her affections on earthly things, and to
remember that wealth was given to us for the benefit of others, as well
as for our own enjoyment. And he was rewarded as she grew up to find
that her chief aim was to do good to the many poor families whose
necessities came to her knowledge. Great also was his satisfaction to
find that after two seasons in New York, where she had been the Belle,
she was still the same loving, unassuming, pure-minded girl she had ever
been, tho' the admiration and attention her beauty and accomplishments
had excited, had she been less carefully trained, might have rendered
her haughty and vain.

During her Father's illness, when her time and thoughts were occupied
with attending upon him, and in anxiety for his recovery she had thought
and felt that the loss of property was an evil of little moment, and
tried to persuade her Father not to think so much about the reverse,
urging that he could get some employment, and they would still live very
happily together in a cottage.

But now that he was gone, and she had no one left to look too, her
lonely and self-dependant position was felt severely, and the tears she
could not restrain, fell unheeded. The fire sank low, and finally went
out, and still Isabel sat thinking of the miserable prospect the future
presented. At last she rose with a shudder, and rang for the tea-things
to be removed, then retiring to her own room, she threw herself upon the
bed in an agony of grief.

She had remained there some time, when she felt a kind hand laid upon
her shoulder, and turning her head she saw the old housekeeper, Mrs.
Stewart, with a cup of hot tea. "C