Madeline's attractions draw around her a number of admirers, who are anxious to bring her into their circle as a new star; but devoted to her calling as wife and mother, she simply returns the calls of the leaders of fashion, and resolutely avoids the frivolity of the giddy world. Aunt Matilda is sadly chagrined, for she had anticipated Madeline's triumphs with great exultation. "I cannot consent, dear aunt, to such a life," replied the wife to her remonstrances; "if I were running this round of folly, what would become of my household darlings?" and steadily, she pursued the quiet tenor of her beautiful life. Occasionally, she accepted invitations to dinner-parties, always being there the centre of attraction. One pleasure she felt that she must indulge in, for whenever she knew that her husband was to speak in Congress, Madeline was always one of the most attentive listeners to his eloquence, ever on the side of the right, the true the good. "What were you musing about this morning, Madeline?" said her husband; "I saw you in the gallery surrounded by so many ladies, all busily engaged in conversation, and you in such a deep brown study." She smiled as he replied, "I was thinking, Roland, about my childish days; and was seated in memory by the lake at Woodcliff, when tired of playing with my gold-fish, I used to amuse myself by throwing in pebbles, and watching the little circles, as they widened in their course, until I could trace them no longer. I thought, Roland, of the boy on the shore at Woodcliff; I saw you just as you stood that day when first I met you; I traced all your course, comparing it to the little pebble thrown carelessly into the lake, drawing one circle of influence round the spoiled child at Woodcliff, then beyond, at college, another round Norris and Stanley, then around Helen Thornly, another around my dear father through your own sister Effie, then a broader, wider circle, embracing the poor, neglected news-boys of New York, and encircling Woodcliff; and now a broader still around the country that you serve, until I am lost in wonder, and can trace it no farther; truly human influence is a wonderful agent, and we ought both to exclaim 'What hath God wrought!'" "How little did we know, dear wife, of the power of my mother's blessed words, when she bade me 'Look aloft;' I listened to them, then, as simply comforting; I have learned since how they have guided my path as a beacon light, to beckon me onward." A servant entered, interrupting the conversation. "Mr. Bruce, a gentleman wishes to see you," and Roland entering the parlor, is greeted by the fast friend of his college days, Dr. Kingsley. "How are you, my son?" said the good man, as he heartily shook Roland's hand.