oul of her child, and that by
God's grace it would grow and strengthen, and in time bear such fruit as
angels love to see.

Mrs. Lee had not only given the message Hatty sent to her brothers and
sister, but she had read her letter to them, praying silently that by
Hatty's example they might be led to choose God for their guardian and
guide.

Marcus had listened intently, and had been moved more than he cared to
show. When his mother laid the letter down, he said bluntly, "I have
nothing laid up against Hatty," and abruptly left the room.

Now as he stood on the pavement leaning upon the broom, he was thinking
of Hatty and her new resolution, and wondering if he should ever make up
his mind to do right. Of one thing he was sure, doing wrong gave him no
pleasure. He had been too well taught to be able to commit any sin,
without being reminded of it by his conscience, but to obey that
conscience was another thing.

Marcus could not help fancying that he should see some great change in
Hatty, that she would look differently, speak differently,--and he made
up his mind not to be at all pleased with her if she affected any new,
serious ways. This was but a momentary feeling, for Marcus really loved
his sister, and in the depths of his heart he rejoiced that she had
chosen the best portion, the only blessing that will last forever and
ever.

II.

Marcus spent so much time in meditating about Hatty and her new
resolution, that he had but just finished his task, when the carriage,
so anxiously desired, drove up to the door, and out jumped Mr. Lee,
followed in another moment by Hatty.

Marcus threw down his broom, and sprang forward, and before he thought
he had kissed Hatty several times. Marcus was not much in favor of
kissing,--he thought it was "girlish;" but now he was so really glad, he
did not think what he was about.

While Mr. Lee was attending to the removal of his carpet-bag, Hatty's
little trunk, and sundry baskets and packages with which the carriage
was loaded, Marcus and Hatty walked up the wide pavement together.

"You are a good sweeper, Marcus," said Hatty, looking at the clean
bricks upon which they were stepping.

Marcus did not answer; he was gazing straight into Hatty's face to see
if she were really altered. He could see no change, save that a few
freckles about her nose disfigured her uncommonly fair skin, and told of
the life in the open air she had lately led. Her red hair had not gr