"How much of my present state of feeling may arise from this loss of my early friend. If so, how little is this weariness of the world to be trusted! in other circumstances, the power of the world may all return. "I went to hear Mr. Endicott, Aunt Clara's pastor. What an earnest, faithful sermon! What a picture of our sinful nature he drew! it is all too true. And where is our help? 'Look unto me,' says the Blessed Saviour; do I look unto him? if I did, would not peace visit my bosom? "Oh! for a living faith! Sometimes I feel as if I really had exercised such trust, and then the merest trifle draws my heart away, and my peace vanishes. "Lavinia has such power to annoy me--she takes malicious pleasure in bringing all the gossip that she can about Roland--why should I be so disturbed? He is only my friend; I am mortified that I should allow myself to dwell so much upon these circumstances. I had a letter from Helen, yesterday--it was full of Roland--she says if I could know all, I would value him as highly as she does. "How little does she know of me! What can be the secret which she cannot disclose? She says that it places him among the noblest and the best of men. She writes as if she were on terms of close intimacy with Roland; writes of mending his clothes, attending to his room, helping him in his work among the News-boys. It is evident that she loves Roland Bruce; and how can she do otherwise, living in the house with him on such familiar terms? May they be happy together! But it does seem strange that he can forget his old friend so soon. "A letter from papa; he is not well--he says that the parlor is so melancholy, the harp so silent; he wishes me to return; I promised him that I would; and nothing can keep me away. "Aunt Clara is sorry to have me go so soon, but she thinks it is my duty, and bids me depart. I am going, to-morrow--she prayed so earnestly alone with me, that I might be kept from the temptations of the world, and brought really to the feet of Jesus. * * * * * * * "I am at home again--papa looks so thin and pale; his spirits are very low--Effie's eyes are no better; I am troubled about the dear girl, more than she is about herself; she seems to live in the spirit of a beautiful hymn. 'Sweet to lie passive in his hands, And know no will but his.' "I spent my first evening at the harp, playing for dear papa; he seemed so happy to have me at home again--how fondly he hung over me all the evening! "What should I be without him? I cannot bear to think of such a time. "He called me to his side before he retired, and opening a casket, gave me such a beautiful set of emeralds; he is never tired of lavishing gifts upon his darling child. "To-day Effie was sitting near the window trying to knit a little; she seemed sorely perplexed, frequently dropping her stitches, and scarcely able to take them up again--Aunt Matilda observed her. "'What are you worrying yourself for, Effie, with that knitting?'