and sweetest old
lady in the world!"

"She is older than I am, I believe, and a great deal more wrinkled,--at
least I have heard so!" said Aunt Barbara.

"I don't know, I never thought about that; she looks very sweet to me!"
said Hatty, with a puzzled look.

"I have had a notion," said Aunt Barbara, "that children did not like
old people, and perhaps I have not tried to make myself pleasant to
them. Do you think if I tried to be like your grandma you could love me,
too?" and the old lady looked earnestly at the little girl.

"O Aunt Barbara, I love you now!" said Hatty affectionately; "and you
grow more like grandma every day."

"Dear child!" said Aunt Barbara, and she laid her thin hand on the head
of the little girl. After a moment's pause she went on--"Hatty, I think I
must have been very cross before I was sick; somehow everything seemed
wrong to me. I am sorry!"

"I and Marcus and Meg and all of us are sorry we were so naughty. It was
our fault, Aunt Barbara,--and we mean to be better," said Hatty, eagerly.

"Poor old Aunt Barbara did wrong, too, child. God has laid her on her
bed of sickness to think, and he has raised her up again for some good
purpose. Perhaps he wanted to give her an opportunity to be more like
what a person ought to be, who has had more than seventy years of
blessings, and who has the promise of a home in Heaven. Aunt Barbara
means to try not to be fretful, and you children must have patience with
her if she don't always speak just as she should."

The old lady was in earnest, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Hatty rose and wiped them away,--then she kissed Aunt Barbara, tenderly,
and said, "We will never think any harm of what dear Aunt Barbara
says,--for we all love you, and mean to make you very happy."

Aunt Barbara now asked Hatty to sing some sweet hymns; and she looked so
quiet and peaceful as she listened, that Hatty could not help thinking
that Jesus must be very near to old people, who are almost at the golden
gate of Heaven.

From that time Hatty was much with Aunt Barbara; and it was touching to
see how hard the old lady tried to be gentle and pleasant.

Hatty's example had a great influence on the other children. Meg learned
to skip more softly as she passed Aunt Barbara's door; and Harry never
ate an orange without pattering along to Aunt Barbara's room, to give
her a taste.

In their hearts the children often acknowledged that it was their own
thoughtlessness