m,
feeling their likeness, yet dissimilarity, to her own.

Cherry had been a brisk happy girl in a good place, resting in one of
the long engagements that often extend over half the life of a servant,
enjoying the nod of her baker as he left his bread, and her walk from
church with him on alternate Sundays. But poor Cherry had been exposed
to the perils of window-cleaning; and, after a frightful fall, had
wakened to find herself in a hospital, and her severe sufferings had
left her a cripple for life.

And the baker had not been an Alan Ernescliffe! She did not complain of
him--he had come to see her, and had been much grieved, but she had
told him she could never be a useful wife; and, before she had used her
crutches, he was married to her pretty fellow-servant.

Cherry spoke very simply; she hoped it was better for Long, and believed
Susan would make him a good wife. Ethel would have thought she did not
feel, but Margaret knew better.

She stroked the thin slight fingers, and gently said, "Poor Cherry!" and
Cherry wiped away a tear, and said, "Yes, ma'am, thank you, it is best
for him. I should not have wished him to grieve for what cannot be
helped."

"Resignation is the great comfort."

"Yes, ma'am. I have a great deal to be thankful for. I don't blame no
one, but I do see how some, as are married, seem to get to think more of
this world; and now and then I fancy I can see how it is best for me as
it is."

Margaret sighed, as she remembered certain thoughts before Alan's
return.

"Then, ma'am, there has been such goodness! I did vex at being a poor
helpless thing, nothing but a burden on father; and when we had to go
from home, and Mr. and Mrs. Hazlewood and all, I can't tell you how bad
it was, ma'am."

"Then you are comforted now?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Cherry, brightening. "It seems as if He had given me
something to do, and there are you, and Mr. Richard, and Miss Ethel,
to help. I should like, please God, to be of some good to those poor
children."

"I am sure you will, Cherry; I wish I could do as much."

Cherry's tears had come again. "Ah! ma'am, you--" and she stopped short,
and rose to depart. Margaret held out her hand to wish her good-bye.
"Please, miss, I was thinking how Mr. Hazlewood said that God fits our
place to us, and us to our place."

"Thank you, Cherry, you are leaving me something to remember."

And Margaret lay questioning with herself, whether the schoolmistress
had not be