omise, had been taken. Amy had been left almost
entirely to her nurse, who had taught her some of the simple prayers
and hymns that she herself had learned at Sunday school, though she
had not spoken to her of Jesus, as Lucy had done. The story of His
love fell upon a heart that was unconsciously yearning for a fuller
measure of affection than it had ever received from human sources; and
the love which it excited in return, for Him whom the child seemed at
once to recognise as an ever near and present friend, became the most
powerful influence of her life. She never wearied of hearing about
Him, of asking questions about Him, particularly about His childhood,
which often threw light, in her young teacher's mind, upon things
which she had not considered before. The child's intense interest,
too, and the simplicity of her childish faith, were no small help to
Lucy, in the midst of much that might have drawn her heart and mind
away from her first love. For there were many temptations in her
way,--temptations which sometimes overcame her. Even her zeal in her
studies often unduly absorbed her mind, tempting her to leave the
fag-end of time and strength for prayer and the reading of God's word,
and her natural ambition often led her into unchristian feelings and
tempers. Then, when humbled and discouraged, and doubtful whether she
really was a child of God at all, some simple, loving remark of Amy's
would drive away the clouds, and she would come again, in penitence
and faith, to drink of the living water which alone can quench human
thirst.

Sometimes the spiritual beauty of her little cousin's expression, and
her growing ripeness for a better country, would awaken a feeling of
regret that Amy was not more like other children, lest indeed she
might be ripening for an early removal. Yet the thought would recur:
"Amy is not fit for the roughness of the world; why should I wish her
stay upon it, instead of going home to rest in her Saviour's bosom?"

Fred had paid a short visit to his sister as soon as his college
vacation commenced, but he had made an engagement for the summer as a
tutor, and he was obliged to hasten away to his duties before Lucy had
said half of what she wished to say, or asked his advice on half the
subjects on which she had been longing for it. However, short as his
visit was, it was very useful as well as very pleasant, reviving old
thoughts and habits of feeling which were in danger of falling into
th