"Let us enter," said Joy.
Sorrow, who was unwilling to go into any abode, lingered outside.
Within, all was as clean and orderly as one could desire: the young girls were diligently sewing, while before them lay an open volume, from which they occasionally read a page or so, thus mingling instruction with labor.
Joy entered, and accosted them with, "A bright morning."
"Very lovely," answered the girls, and they arose and placed a chair for their visitor.
"We have much to be grateful for every day, but very much on such a day as this," remarked the grandmother.
"You're a busy family," said Joy.
"Yes, we all labor, and are fond of it," answered the woman, looking fondly at the girls. "We have many blessings, far more than we can be grateful for, I sometimes think."
"Yes, I tell mother," broke in the husband, "that we must never lose sight of our blessings; in fact, they are all such, though often in disguise."
At that moment Sorrow looked in at the open door. It was so seldom that she was recognized that she longed to enter.