Jane and Ellen Saunders were orphans, left to the care of a respectable, kind-hearted uncle, who had given them as much of education as he considered suitable to their prospects in life, and had promised that after they had obtained sufficient experience in the business to which they had been apprenticed, he would set them up in a small establishment for themselves. In the mean time they were to be employed by the Misses Baylis, whose extensive connection furnished opportunity for acquiring that further experience. The following Sunday proving again showery and dull, found Jane the willing companion of Mary Davis, while Ellen still preferred to wear out her temper and patience at the window, in anxious hope that some congenial friend would take compassion on her solitude. This happened at last, for the excursion having been again deferred, Fanny Ashton, with her brother and his friend, called to invite her to a walk toward some public gardens, where they could take tea, and find shelter if so inclined. It never struck the vain and foolish girl to observe how her company served the design of Fanny Ashton, by occupying the attentions of the brother, under whose protection she left home, while she herself appropriated those of his flattering friend. Nor did Ellen pause to reflect, that had Henry Ashton been sincere in his professions of regard, such scenes of Sabbath-breaking revelry as some of those which he occasionally permitted her to witness or overhear, were not just those to which feelings of respect and a sense of propriety would have introduced her. Jane found her kind friends as agreeable as before, and soon became a regular and welcome visitor at the cottage. By a natural and easy transition from opinion or opposition to decision and proof, Mrs. Davis gradually led the attention of the ignorant girl to the great standard of truth, and stimulated her interest by occasionally calling upon Mary to name the chapter and verse in which the desired reference occurred; and as Mary had learned Scripture from her childhood, she served the purpose of a concordance to the astonished Jane. "Dear Mary, I never knew anything like your memory," she exclaimed one evening; "I wish I could remember where to find what I want in the Bible as you do." "That is to be done by practice," said Mrs. Davis; "and if you will not think it too childish, suppose I ask you to learn a text for me every week. Say it over to yourself each day, and you will certainly know it by Sunday." "I'm sure I have no objection if it will please you," said Jane; "you are the first person who ever made me think there was anything interesting in the Bible, excepting to old people who are going to die soon. You are not old yet you know," she added quickly. "I have no objection to be classed with old people, I assure you," said Mrs. Davis, smiling, "if it is one of their privileges to find the Bible their dearest consolation; but do not young people die sometimes?"