o, over his very grave. Children should
never grieve parents, mother often told me, and especially when they are
dead!"

"Poor Hetty! They are happily removed beyond all cares on our account.
Nothing that I can do or say will cause mother any sorrow now--there is
some consolation in that, at least! And nothing you can say or do will
make her smile, as she used to smile on your good conduct when living."

"You don't know that, Judith. Spirits can see, and mother may see as
well as any spirit. She always told us that God saw all we did, and that
we should do nothing to offend him; and now she has left us, I strive to
do nothing that can displease her. Think how her spirit would mourn and
feel sorrow, Judith, did it see either of us doing what is not right;
and spirits may see, after all; especially the spirits of parents that
feel anxious about their children."

"Hetty--Hetty--you know not what you say!" murmured Judith, almost livid
with emotion--"The dead cannot see, and know nothing of what passes
here! But, we will not talk of this any longer. The bodies of Mother
and Thomas Hutter lie together in the lake, and we will hope that the
spirits of both are with God. That we, the children of one of them,
remain on earth is certain; it is now proper to know what we are to do
in future."

"If we are not Thomas Hutter's children, Judith, no one will dispute our
right to his property. We have the castle and the Ark, and the canoes,
and the woods, and the lakes, the same as when he was living, and what
can prevent us from staying here, and passing our lives just as we ever
have done?"

"No, no poor sister--this can no longer be. Two girls would not be safe
here, even should these Hurons fail in getting us into their power.
Even father had as much as he could sometimes do, to keep peace upon the
lake, and we should fail altogether. We must quit this spot, Hetty, and
remove into the settlements."

"I am sorry you think so, Judith," returned Hetty, dropping her head on
her bosom, and looking thoughtfully down at the spot where the funeral
pile of her mother could just be seen. "I am very sorry to hear it. I
would rather stay here, where, if I wasn't born, I've passed my life.
I don't like the settlements--they are full of wickedness and heart
burnings, while God dwells unoffended in these hills! I love the trees,
and the mountains, and the lake, and the springs; all that his bounty
has given us, and it would grieve me sorel