the subject. After the
evening meal was over, and Mr. Cooper had been persuaded to retire to
rest, while Mrs. Sullivan, reclining on the sofa, was enjoying what she
always termed her happiest hour, Gertrude broached the subject
recommended by Dr. Jeremy. Contrary to her expectations, Mrs. Sullivan
no longer objected to the proposal of introducing a domestic into the
family. She was convinced of her own incompetency to perform any active
labour, and was equally opposed to the exertion on Gertrude's part which
had, during the last week, been requisite. Gertrude suggested Jane
Miller as a girl well suited to their wants, and it was agreed that she
should be applied for on the next morning.

One more glance at Gertrude, and we shall have followed her to the
conclusion of the day. She is alone. It is ten o'clock, and the house is
still. Mr. Cooper is sound asleep. Gertrude has just listened at his
door, and heard his loud breathing. Mrs. Sullivan, under the influence
of a soothing draught recommended by Dr. Jeremy, has fallen into an
unusually quiet slumber. The little Calcutta birds, ten in number, that
occupy a large cage in the window, are nestled side by side on their
slender perch, and Gertrude has thrown a warm covering over them, that
they might not suffer from the cold night air. She has locked the doors,
made all things safe and comfortable, and now sits down to read, to
meditate, and pray. Her trials and cares are multiplying. A great grief
stares her in the face, and a great responsibility; but she shrinks not
from either. No! on the contrary, she thanks God that she is here; that
she had the resolution to forsake pleasure and ease, and in spite of
her own weakness and man's wrath, to place herself in the front of
life's battle, and bravely wait its issues. She thanks God that she
knows where to look for help. But, though her heart is brave and her
faith firm, she has a woman's tender nature; and, as she sits alone she
weeps--weeps for herself, and for him who, far away in a foreign land,
is counting the days, the months, and years which shall restore him to a
mother he is destined never to see again. But remembering that she is to
stand in the place of a child to that parent, and that her hand must
soothe the pillow of the invalid, and minister to all her wants, comes
the stern necessity of self-control--a necessity to which Gertrude has
long since learned to submit--and, rallying all her calmness and
fortitude,