CHAPTER XIX.

AN INVALID.

MRS. WHATELY took Beulah to No. 19 Street, and left her at a plain but respectable looking house. Beulah knocked gently at the door of a front room in the second story, and a feeble voice bade her come in. She entered.

Mrs. Fanshaw was supported by pillows in bed, so that she was nearly in a sitting posture. She looked at Beulah without recognizing her, and said, in a gentle voice, "Come nearer, if you please, Miss, that I may see who it is."

Beulah, coming near and extending her hand, replied, "It is Beulah Morris, your daughter's friend."

"How tall

66 Indeed!" exclaimed the invalid. you have grown!" and she was going to add, "and how very pretty," but changed it to the

simple request, "Will you take a seat? I am very glad to see you."

The room was in perfect order. The counterpane on the bed was as white as snow, and the little table that stood by the bedside was covered with a clean napkin, under which were medicines, grapes, and oranges. Every thing, in short, showed the most delicate attention to the comfort of the invalid. By her side lay a Bible and one or two devotional books, which she seemed to have been reading.

Mrs. Fanshaw was extremely pale. Instead of the contemptuous, dissatisfied expression that had formerly disfigured her countenance, there was a look of quiet resignation that went directly to Beulah's heart. She expressed regret at finding her so ill.

"Thank you," replied Mrs. Fanshaw; "I ought to be grateful for relief from extreme suffering. I am sorry Zephina is not here to see you. But she has no time to spare from her daily occupation and from her poor, feeble mother. We employ a woman to prepare our meals and take care of our (apartments, she was going to say, but immediately corrected herself, and said, with an effort) one room.”

"I saw Zephina a short time since, and she appeared quite cheerful," said Beulah.

66

My noble girl is the greatest possible blessing to me," continued Mrs. Fanshaw. "You remember, Beulah, for I must call you by the name that Zephina so dearly loves, - you remember, that I wished Zephina to become an accomplished lady. Poor, misguided woman that I was. I thought, then, only of external accomplishments. Sickness and sorrow have been the appointed messengers of good to me, and the world has so far receded that I can see it in its true light. Zephina always loved the true and the useful, and understood the real value of accomplishments better than I did. When I see her performing her arduous duties so faithfully and so cheerfully, I am ready to exclaim,

'There is a beauty in her daily life

That makes my own look ugly.'"

There was a momentary pause, and then Beulah mentioned her father's letter, and his kind remembrance of Zephina, and his desire to have her make a visit at Baxter.

"What generous kindness!" exclaimed the invalid; "and do you know, Beulah, that, in my foolish and wicked heart, I despised country people, and called them vulgar?"

"You did not become acquainted with them, and therefore could not judge with regard to their character or manners," kindly replied Beulah.

"How seldom do we meet with such disinterested kindness as you have shown to Zephina! continued Mrs. Fanshaw. "Harriet Ann Gunn

has become quite rich, and now she never comes to see us. She passes Zephina in the street, and cuts her deliberately."

"If it would afford you any pleasure," said Beulah, "I should like to come and read to you quite often. Zephina says it fatigues you to read."

"I should be exceedingly obliged to you, for of late my eyes are weak; I am so much alone that I have relied upon these for my companions,' said the invalid, laying her hand upon the Bible and her other books.

Beulah then rose to go,

leaving her best

love for Zephina, and a little note, which she laid upon the table. It was Medad's postscript, in an envelope, with a few lines from Beulah herself.

CHAPTER XX.

HARRIET ANN AT HOME.

MR. PRIUM was, as Mrs. Markham had said, a very respectable man, and his wife an excellent

woman.

Mr. Gunn died insolvent, soon after Harriet Ann returned from Baxter, and left her penniless. Mrs. Prium, his sister, received his orphan into her family, and her husband freely gave her a home. She had been with this kind family about a year when a brother much older than herself, who had been absent many years, died, and left her a pretty fortune, she thought it immense.

Feeling the added consequence that this unexpected good fortune gave her, she began to despise her kind benefactors. She went to school, and there made herself ridiculous by her pretension. Whenever any new acquaintances walked