t you don't worship the Blessed Virgin, Aunt Mabel?" said May, with
a smile.

"Worship her, honey? No! but God honored and loved her. SHE was the
mother of the dear Jesus; the 'mount of her sufferings was for him and
us, and _I_ love her--_I_ honor her, and I go to her like a little
child, and ask her to _pray for me_, and ask Him, who never refused her
any thing, for what I want."

"She is a tender friend--the refuge of sinners--the health of the
weak--the help of Christians!" said May, astonished at old Mabel's
language; "and I am glad you have recourse to her. She will lead you
along until all is well with you. Shall I read to you now? Father
Fabian requested me to read over the catechism to you. To-day I will
read the instructions on Confession and Baptism."

"I can't hear too much, Miss May," said the old woman, leaning forward
to listen, with an eager and anxious expression. May read, and
explained, until she heard the cathedral bell toll the Angelus. It was
time for her to go; so kneeling down, she said with heartfelt devotion
the beautiful prayer, which celebrates so worthily and continually the
wondrous mystery of the Incarnation. After which she left her purse
with old Mabel, containing the amount of her rent, which would be due
the next day, and promising to send her tea, sugar, and other
necessaries, called little Nellie in, and telling her to sit with her
grandmother, hurried away with a lighter heart than when she came out.
She made her purchases on her way home, and left directions where they
were to be sent. After assuring herself that there would be no
mistake, and obtaining a promise from the clerk who weighed the
groceries that they should be delivered in the course of an hour, she
proceeded homewards. She found Helen haughty and silent, evidently
determined to avoid all conversation on the event of the morning. Two
or three times May endeavored to expostulate with her, but found
herself rudely repulsed.

That night, when Mr. Stillinghast came in, Helen officiously placed his
chair in its usual corner, and handed him his slippers. May made two
or three observations to him in her own cheerful way, but he barely
replied, and desired her not to interrupt him again. Her heart
swelled, and her cheeks flushed, but she remembered the _aim of her
life_, and was silent.

"Do you play on the piano?" said Mr. Stillinghast, abruptly, to Helen.

"No, sir; I play on the harp," she replied, amaz