. Since I left school last spring, what have I done
but amuse myself, and attend readings and lectures, which amounts to
the same thing, as the motive is purely selfish?"

"You have made 'food for the gods,'" said Bessie demurely.

I turned upon her.

"For that remark you shall have cause to regret that you ever were
born," I retorted, "and I would not have believed it of you, Bessie.
But seriously, girls, I am longing for an object in life on which I can
expend some of the capabilities of which I feel myself possessed."

"I thought you had been supplied with one since the 15th of last
November," said Bessie, "but----"

"Will you leave that subject out of the question?" I again interrupted.
"If not, there will be trouble between the houses of Sanford and
Livingstone."

"Why can't you two be what Daisy calls 'common-sensible,' and tell what
is at the bottom of all this?" said Milly, joining for the first time
in the conversation.

"I am sure that I am showing an unusual amount of common-sense," I
rejoined, "for I have in all seriousness just awakened to a sense of my
shortcomings towards humanity in general, and am longing for an object
on which to expend my superfluous energies. You, Milly, have your
charges, Bill and Jim, whom you have rescued from lives of shame and
crime, and who are standing monuments of the efficacy of your zeal,
self-sacrifice, and good sense in their behalf (no, you need not
courtesy); and Bessie has her old ladies to whom she so religiously
devotes one afternoon in every week, no matter what temptations assail
her in other directions, and who simply adore her, and for whom she
does many a little kind office at divers other times. But who, outside
of our family, to whose happiness I add, of course, because I am their
own Amy; and--and Fred; yes, and you, dear Bessie," as a soft little
reminding hand was laid upon my arm,--"who except these is any the
better or happier for my existence?"

"Lots of friends and relations, you foolish child," said Bessie, while
Milly dropped a re-assuring kiss upon my forehead. "What nonsense, Amy!
I do not know any one who is a more general favorite."

"Well, allowing that it is so," I said, "is it not only because I am
merry and full of life, and make things a little cheerful around me?
Point to one thing useful or of real lasting benefit that I have ever
done, and I will thank you. I have loved Aunt Emily's hospital cottage
by the sea, for her sake and