The gates were unbarred--the home of the blest Freely opened to welcome Miss C----; But hearing the chorus that "Heaven is Rest," She turned from the angels to flee, Saying, "Rest is no Heaven to me!" MY LADY-HELP. OR AUNT LINA'S VISIT. BY ENNA DUVAL. "You are in want of an efficient person to assist you in taking charge of your domestic affairs, Enna," said a maiden aunt of mine to me one evening. I pulled my little sewing-table toward me with a slight degree of impatience, and began very earnestly to examine the contents of my work-box, that I might not express aloud my weariness of my aunt's favorite subject. I had been in want of just such an article as an "efficient person" ever since I had taken charge of my father's _menage_; and after undergoing almost martyrdom with slip-shod, thriftless, good-for-nothing "_help_," as we Americans, with such delicate consideration, term our serving maids, I had come to the conclusion that indifferent "_help_" was an unavoidable evil, and that the best must be made of the poor, miserable instruments of assistance vouchsafed unto the race of tried, vexed housekeepers. "I have just thought," continued my aunt, "of a very excellent person that will suit you in every way. Lizzie Hall, the one I was thinking of, has never been accustomed to living out. Her father is a farmer in our place, but having made a second marriage, and with a young family coming up around him, Lizzie very properly wishes to do something for herself. I remember having heard her express such a desire; and I have no doubt I could persuade her to come to you. She is not very young--about eight-and-twenty, or thereabouts."