  Ornate capital O “Oh, Miss Lane, is that all?” cried the children. “Please tell us the rest. What became of Willie? and did your papa come back?” Jennie’s silks were untangled, and Mr. Graham’s eyes were wide open; but bed time had come for Tan and Rosie, and so they had to be satisfied for that evening. Christmas came and went. Allie Ross and her mother were made happy, and Lillie finished the stockings. Poor Jennie succeeded only in finishing her “odds and ends” by New Year, and very sad and dispirited she grew over the work many times; but when it was over, and she began fresh and with a clear conscience, she was glad of the discipline. Christmas Day did not seem dull, though not It was some time before Miss Lane finished her “Life,” as the little ones called it. It was rather a mild day—one of the January thawing ones—before they heard the whole. “Did your cousin Robbie get to be a good boy, Miss Lane,” asked Rosie, while they were all in the parlor, before evening came on. “Yes. I told you about my cousin Robbie when I first came here. It was he that wandered in the snow, trying to escape from the Indians in New Mexico.” “Oh, what a pity!” “I don’t know, my dears; he did his work, and God gave him rest,” was the answer. “It seems sad to die, though.” “Not to every body, my children.” “And Johnnie and Nellie, and Cora and Willie?” “Little Nellie grew to be a lovely woman, so very bright and happy that it lightened one’s heart to look at her. She stepped as if treading on air, and was full of music, playing and singing through life, with a promise of joy in her future. Every body loved Nellie Bell, and admired her as we do some beautiful, rare flower, thinking her about as fit as a blossom to bear the ills and cares of life. And yet Nellie was the heroine of the family, caring for her mother, who grew blind, with the most beautiful tenderness, bearing the burden of her papa’s moroseness and repinings, and putting away, with a sublime self-sacrifice, all the fair and lovely dreams that must have filled her heart, to be the comforter and helper of their old age. “By and by, uncle Bell lost his property, and “And her natural gayety softened into the loveliest, calmest content. Her eyes grew deep and radiant, and her lips smiled always; her brow was as smooth too as ever, and nothing could change the child look of ingenuousness in her face. “I think I have never seen anything so pure and sweet as her ways. She seems living ever near to God, taking blessings from His hand, and when He sends sorrow, smiling with the same patience; because both alike come from her Father. “A few years ago, there was a new joy in her life, and the cup was dashed from her lip as she was about to drink it. A sudden death came to one who was to have been her husband, death “She was waiting for the words, ‘He is here,’ and they told her, ‘He is dead’—and the strange event threatened to put out the light and warmth in her young heart for a time; but it brightened again, and she took up her duties with patience, sweetness, peace, even happiness, because God is good, and his presence in the world is beautiful, because a long life teaches us much, and we must thank the Giver for it.” “How very sad,” said the children. “You would not call her sad, if you were to see her. She, I am sure, would not have her lot changed.” “And you and Willie?” suggested the children, after a pause. “I am here, my dear,” continued Miss Lane with a little sigh, looking thoughtfully out of the window. “You know all about me. My fate, I suppose, was to tell you stories. I never saw my dear father again alive. In the next spring, “And when I finished my education, because there was other need greater than mine, I gave up my little fortune, and took this work of teaching upon myself. Willie is your Dr. Sprague.” “Our Dr. Sprague! our Dr. Sprague your Willie! Hurrah! Papa, Dr. Sprague is Miss Lane’s Willie!” cried the children, running to the door as Mr. Graham appeared. “Whose Willie am I?” said a voice, speaking from out the depths of a great-coat, as another “Do you know Miss Lane?” inquired Lillie, when, tea being over and some degree of quietness restored, she sat curiously watching the two faces of her friends. “Yes, a little,” answered the gentleman, nodding and smiling in a wonderfully contented manner. A moment after all were moved to mirth, as little Rosie said, deliberately bringing out her words, as if she had come to the conclusion after much study, and looking meditatively into Miss Lane’s face: “I think she likes him yet—Willie, I mean.” On the next day, they learned that in the spring, Miss Lane would have her own home and fireside, to which, she assured them, when their tears fell at the thought of parting with her, they would ever be welcome. Many new lessons were learned during those winter months, habits of order were acquired, Though Jennie did not become a model of neatness and punctuality, she did much in the way of improvement, and learned to subdue her temper, though tried severely. Lillie, too, and Frank found there was another ruler than their own will, and made a good beginning in the straight, narrow way, before Miss Lane departed, her dear face looking fairer and brighter than ever to her ardent admirers, the young Grahams. THE END. Transcriber’s Note: Punctuation has been standardized. Capitalization, spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear in the original publication, except as follows:
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