"It _is_ like Carry!" said Ida; then she scanned it long and earnestly. She was very beautiful; with large, blue eyes; and a cherry mouth, just parted in a smile; and shining hair, folded above the smooth forehead--fair enough for _him_! and as she raised her eyes to say how lovely she was, she beheld herself in the glass opposite--wan, hollow-eyed and sallow--and felt how presumptuous--how reckless in its folly, her dream had been! He shut the spring, without looking at it himself, (it was delicate and considerate to avoid the comparison!) and making no reply to her praises of his betrothed, began to speak of the bond of fellowship, formed between themselves, since their parting. She had been discouraged by her inability to talk of what was ever in her mind; had distrusted the genuineness of her faith, because her tongue faltered in telling of the love which had redeemed her. He entered fully into her feelings; and she surprised herself by the freedom the consciousness of this afforded her. He told her of his difficulties and temptations and conflicts, often anticipating what she would have related of her own experience. So well did his counsels and comfort meet the inquiries and wants of her spirit, that she debated within herself whether he were not sent by heaven--a special messenger in her hour of trial. "Say on!" said he, encouragingly, as he caught her eye. "I was about to ask if you believed in what are termed minute or particular Providences." "As in my existence! even to the numbering of the hairs of any head. You have not been troubling your brain with quibblings upon this subject, I hope?" "No; but I have heard it disputed by very good people, who confuse me by their 'free agency,' and 'accountability,' and 'decrees.'" "Discard theories, and eschew arguments. Let your Bible and your common sense be your teachers. As a machinist fashions the minutest cog of the smallest wheel, as carefully as the mighty lever, the main power,--so the Supreme Governor looks to the balance of the tiniest atom in His universe." "Then," said Ida; "I do not commit presumption when I trace my Father's hand in every-day events; when I lift up my soul in thankfulness for a pleasant, or ennobling thought, a visit, a gift, an act of friendship, which has made me better or happier--or say 'Thy will be done?' in the petty trials, which annoy, rather than afflict us!"