efiled by sin.
Oh, how happy is the thought of going up through faith and repentance,
without a stain, into the presence of our divine Lord!"

"_Me_, Miss May! _all_ that for an old crippled nigger like me?"
exclaimed Aunt Mabel, wiping her eyes.

"Yes, all that, and more--ten thousand times more. But now, Aunt
Mabel, you must begin to examine carefully your past life; to remember
the sins which have blotted it, and beg of Almighty God the grace of
true repentance, sincere, humble repentance, that you may make a good
general confession. And here," continued May, taking off her own
medal, and hanging it around Aunt Mabel's neck, "say the little prayer
on this a hundred times a day, if you can remember it: '_Oh, Mary,
conceived without sin, pity me, a poor sinner, who have recourse to
thee_.' It is a medal of our Blessed Lady, who will obtain from her
divine Son, for you, all that you may need. Can you say the prayer?"

"Oh, Mary, conceived without sin, pity me, a poor sinner, who have
recourse to thee," repeated the old woman.

"Say it over and over again, until you know it perfectly," said May.

"I got it in here, honey, fast," replied the old woman, pointing to her
heart.

"That is right. Now, can I do any thing for you?"

"No, my misses, only call my grandchild as you go 'long. I let her go
out to have a run in the sunshine this morning."

"I will send her to you; and to-morrow I think you will see Father
Fabian," said May, before she closed the door. And she went away,
wrapped as with a royal mantle, _in the blessings of the poor_.

CHAPTER VII.

THINGS OF TIME AND ETERNITY.

In a small and elegant _boudoir_, which opened into a conservatory, and
was crowded with articles of taste and _vertu_,--the gleanings of a tour
through Europe,--a lady, somewhat past the prime of life, leaned over an
_Or-molu_ table, arranging with exquisite touches, a quantity of splendid
flowers in a basket of variegated mosses which stood on it. There was a
look of high-bred indolence about her, and an expression of pride on her
countenance _so_ earthly, that even the passing stranger shrunk from it.
And, while with a fine eye for the harmony of colors, she blended the
gorgeous flowers together, weaving the dark mosses amidst them, until
they looked like a rare Flemish painting, the door opened, and a
distinguished-looking young gentleman came in--called her mother--kissed
her on the cheek, and threw himself with a