aid Ursula,
embracing her with tears.

After this confidence, of which Muriel was very proud, and only
condescended, upon gaining express permission, to re-confide it to me,
she talked incessantly of the sister that was coming, until "little
Maud"--the name she chose for her--became an absolute entity in the
household.

The dignity and glory of being sole depositary of this momentous fact,
seemed for a time to put new life--bright human life--into this little
maid of eleven years old. She grew quite womanly, as it were; tried to
help her mother in a thousand little ways, and especially by her own
solitary branch of feminine industry--poor darling! She set on a pair
of the daintiest elfin socks that ever were knitted. I found them,
years after--one finished, one with the needles (all rusty) stuck
through the fine worsted ball, just as the child had laid it out of her
hand. Ah, Muriel, Muriel!

The father took great delight in this change, in her resuming her
simple work, and going about constantly with her mother.

"What a comfort she will be to Ursula one day--an eldest daughter
always is. So will she: will she not, Uncle Phineas?"

I smiled assentingly. Alas! his burthens were heavy enough! I think I
did right to smile.

"We must take her down with us to see the steam-engine first worked. I
wish Ursula would have gone home without waiting for to-morrow. But
there is no fear--my men are so quiet and good-humoured. What in most
mills has been a day of outrage and dread, is with us quite a festival.
Boys, shall you like to come? Edwin, my practical lad, my lad that is
to carry on the mills--will you promise to hold fast by Uncle Phineas,
if I let you see the steam-engine work?"

Edwin lifted up from his slate bright, penetrating eyes. He was quite
an old man in his ways--wise even from his babyhood, and quiet even
when Guy snubbed him; but, I noticed, he did not come to "kiss and make
friends" so soon as Guy. And though Guy was much the naughtiest, we
all loved him best. Poor Guy! he had the frankest, warmest, tenderest
boy-heart, always struggling to be good, and never able to accomplish
it.

"Father," cried Guy, "I want to see the steam-engine move, but I'll not
be a baby like Edwin; I'll not hold Uncle Phineas' hand."

Hereupon ensued one of those summer storms which sometimes swept across
the family horizon, in the midst of which Muriel and I stole out into
the empty church, where, almost in t