"I hope there was no more than silliness."
"I don't think there was; but still, after all the care Rose and Charlotte have taken to bring up that girl really refined, it was very disappointing to find her ready to be led away in an instant by foolish, vulgar admiration; above all, when it led her to neglect the good work she was supposed to be doing, it showed such shallowness."
"It is a comfort that often trials, and even falls, do deepen the soil, so that the roots may have a better hold another time," said Mr. Somers. "I think there is good hope that so it will be with poor little Amy. And I think you have some good soil to tell me of."
"Indeed I have. I am sure Jessie Hollis has shown herself good soil, and her work upon that very unpromising Mary Smithers showed itself remarkably. But that was not all I was thinking of. It seems to me that we have had a glimpse of what the hundredfold produce may be. Think of my dear sister Edith, working away at her class when there was much less help than now, and see what some of them have grown up, especially Amy Cuthbert. I know she had a good home, and other helps; but still I heard what she said of Edith's teaching and training. It has helped her to make that young Ambrose Cuthbert what he is,—and what may not be his harvest!"
"As though a man should cast seed into the field," said Mr. Somers, thoughtfully. "First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear."
"Ah! I am leaping on too fast. We only see a little of the first-fruits," said Miss Manners, "and take it for an earnest of the rest." And then she repeated Bishop Heber's hymn, which she had often taught the children:—
"O God, by Whom the seed is given,
By Whom the harvest blest,
Whose Word, like manna showers from heaven,
Is planted in our breast.
"Preserve it from the passing feet,
From plunderers of the air,
The sultry sun's intenser heat,
And weeds of worldly care.
"Though buried deep or thinly strewn,
Do Thou Thy grace supply:
The hope in earthly furrows strewn
Shall ripen in the sky."
THE END.
LONDON:
R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor,
BREAD STREET HILL.