ave a
large company you almost always retire early. Why do you do so,
aunt, may I ask you?"

Mary Clinton was silent a moment, then she said gently, "When I
think I can add to the ease or enjoyment of any person present, I
take pleasure in staying; but when I feel that I am rather a
restraint than otherwise, I retire--to weep. You are yet young and
beautiful, my child, for you have never known such feelings. I am
too selfish, or I would not be sad so often; it is right that I
should pass through such a school of discipline. I hope it has
already made me better." The look of resignation that beamed from
Miss Clinton's tearful eyes, caused a chord in Alice's heart to
tremble with a strange blending of love, sweetness, and sorrow.

"_You_ should be happy, if any one should, dear aunt," she said in a
low voice, and she partly averted her head, to conceal the tears
that started down her cheek. "I am happy so often," she resumed,
turning around and seating herself upon an ottoman at her aunt's
feet. "You deserve so much more than I--to be as good as you are,
Aunt Mary, I would almost change situations, for then I should be
sure of going to heaven."

"You can be just as sure in your own position, as in that of any
other person. But, dear child, the more deeply we scan our hearts,
the more we see there to conquer, in order that we may become fit
companions for the angels."

Alice remained thoughtful for some moments, then she folded her
hands over Aunt Mary's lap, and lifted her eyes to the loving face
that bent over her. "Be my guardian angel," she prayed tearfully,
"your love is so pure; a gentleness comes over me, when I am with
you. All tumultuous feelings sink down to repose. I have not known
you, Aunt Mary; you have shown me to-day how lovely goodness is. I
can feel it in your presence. Oh! to possess it! I fear it will be
long years before I grow so gentle in my spirit--so unselfish--so
like a child of Heaven!"

"Hush, hush!" was Mary Clinton's gentle interruption. "You do not
know me yet, Alice. Perhaps I appear far better than I am."

Alice smiled, and laying her arm around Aunt Mary's neck, drew down
her face, and kissed her affectionately, whispering, "You will be my
guide, I ask no better."

"Thank you, thank you," broke from Aunt Mary's lips; she pressed
Alice's cheek with the ardent haste of love and gratitude; then
yielding to the emotions that thrilled her heart, she burst into
tears, and wept with a