t it a pleasure to wait upon her mother, while she
assisted the old lady to dress, and even Marcus seemed pleased to be
useful. He and Jane carried down the old-fashioned easy chair, which
Aunt Barbara particularly fancied, and then he drew a small table near
it, placed a footstool beside it, and stood waiting to see if he could
be of any further assistance. Mr. Lee helped Aunt Barbara down very
tenderly, and looked at her as affectionately as if she were a dear
little child instead of a poor invalid, tottering with age and sickness.

Marcus expected to hear Aunt Barbara say, "This room is too light for
anybody," or "My! who could have chosen such a place for my chair?" but
he was mistaken.

Aunt Barbara sunk down among the pillows which Hatty had arranged, quite
exhausted, and for a while was too weak to say one word. Mrs. Lee
brought her a glass of wine, and a light biscuit, and when Aunt Barbara
had taken them she seemed better.

Then she looked round the cheerful library, and said, "How pleasant it
is here, and how nicely you have prepared for me! And you helped, too,
Marcus; that was kind!"

"I am very glad you are pleased!" said Marcus; and away he ran to
school, feeling more light-hearted than he had done for many days. Mrs.
Lee said she would take care of the children in the nursery, as Jane
must be busy, and leave Hatty with Aunt Barbara. Hatty was glad to be
trusted, and she brought her sewing, and took a low seat near the old
lady.

Aunt Barbara did not seem inclined to talk at first, and Hatty kept very
quiet, though every now and then she opened her mouth as if she were
going to speak, and then shut it again quickly.

Hatty had learned that there are often times when older people do not
care to hear even pleasant young voices. She had found out that a little
happy child may show a great deal of unselfishness by keeping quiet,
when she would gladly let her tongue speak out the joy that is in her
heart. Hatty tried to think over all the hymns she had ever learned, and
so be silent until Aunt Barbara should choose to speak.

Hatty's lips were beginning to feel quite stiff with their unusual
effort, when Aunt Barbara said, "Hatty, my dear."

Hatty looked up suddenly, (Aunt Barbara had never called her "my dear"
before,) but she only said "What, ma'am," and then waited to see what
would come next.

"Do you love your grandma?" asked Aunt Barbara.

"Indeed I do!" said Hatty, warmly. "She is the dearest