Make ourselves happy in our old way! How was that possible? The light had gone out of the house. The very room in which we three--uncle Bryan, my mother, and I--had spent so many pleasant days before Jessie came, looked cold and comfortless now. Even the figure of my dear mother, bustling cheerfully about, and the sweet considerate manner in which she strove, in many tender ways, to soften my sorrow, were not a recompense for the loss of Jessie. I opened my book and pretended to be occupied with it, and my mother, with that rare wisdom which springs from perfect unselfish love, did not disturb my musings. The evening passed very quietly, and directly the shop was shut, I went to bed. I was in a very unhappy mood, and it was past midnight before I fell asleep. I did not think of my mother, or of the pain she was suffering through me. My grief was intensely selfish; I had not the strength which often comes from suffering, nor was I blessed with such a nature as my mother's--a nature which does not colour surrounding circumstances with the melancholy hue of its own sorrows. Unhappily, it falls to the lot of few to be brought within the sweet influence of one whose mission on earth seems to be to shed the light of peace and love upon those among whom her lot is cast, and to whom, unless we are ungratefully forgetful, as I was on this night, we look instinctively for comfort and consolation when trouble comes to us. In the middle of the night, I awoke suddenly, and found my mother sitting by my bed; she was in her nightdress, and there was a light in the room. 'Why, mother!' I exclaimed, confused for a moment. 'Don't be alarmed, dear child,' she said; 'there's nothing the matter; but I could not sleep, knowing that you were unhappy. You too, my dear, were a long time before you went to sleep.' Then I knew that she must have watched and waited at my bedroom door until I had blown out my candle. 'What time is it, mother?' 'It must be three o'clock, my dear.' 'O, mother! And you awake at this time of the night for me!' She smiled softly. Something of worship for that pure nature stole into my heart as I looked into her dear eyes. But there was grief in them, too, and I asked her the reason. 'Do you know, my darling,' she said, with a wistful yearning look, and with a sigh which she vainly strove to check, that you went to bed to-night without kissing me? For the first time in your life, dear child; for the first time in your life!'