"Ah," sighed the mother, tears springing to her eyes, as the joyous shouts of children penetrated to their silent room, "our little darling would have been so gay and happy to-day! But why do I say that! I know she is far, far happier in that blessed land than she could ever possibly have been here." "I know that," said Claudina, weeping, "and I do rejoice in the thought of her blessedness; but oh, the house is so dreary and desolate without her! O Mildred, how rich you are with four sisters!" There was a knock at the street door, answered by the girl, and the next moment Miss Drybread walked into the parlor where the ladies were sitting. She was courteously received and invited to take a seat; which she did, drawing a deep sigh. "Are you well, Miss Damaris?" asked Mrs. Chetwood. "Yes; I'm always well; I try and do right, and have no sick fancies; am never troubled with the vapors. I hope you're well?" "As usual, thank you." "You've had a great affliction." No response, for the torn hearts could scarce endure the rude touch; her tone was so cold and hard. "I hope you're resigned," she went on. "You know we ought to be; especially considering that we deserve all our troubles and trials." "I trust we are," said Mrs. Chetwood, "we can rejoice in her happiness while we weep for ourselves." "Don't you think you made an idol of that child? I think you did, and that that is the reason why she was taken; for God won't allow idols." "We loved her very dearly," sobbed the bereaved mother, "but I do not think we made an idol of her, or ever indulged her to her hurt." "The heart is deceitful," observed the schoolma'am with emphasis, "and putting on mourning, and shedding so many tears, doesn't look like submission and resignation. I don't see how a Christian can act so." "Wait till you are bereaved," replied the mother, sobs almost choking her utterance. "And remember how Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus, and that he never reproved the Jews for putting on sackcloth and ashes when mourning for their dead," said Mildred, adding, in her uncontrollable indignation, "I think you might be at better work, Miss Drybread, than wrenching the hearts of these bereaved ones whom Jesus loves, and in all whose afflictions He is afflicted." "I'm only doing my duty," retorted the spinster; "the Bible says we must reprove our brethren and not suffer sin upon them." "It says 'Judge not, that ye be not judged.' They are the words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, and if you turn to the passage and read on a little further, you will see that people who try to pull the mote out of a brother's eye while there is a beam in their own, He calls hypocrites." "I can understand an insinuation as well as the next one," said Miss Drybread, rising in wrath, "and let me tell you, Miss, that I consider you the most impertinent young person I ever met.