down silently by the deserted hearth-stone, in the very chair of the departed father. But still she wept not. The whole night and the following day passed in the same unmitigated anguish; nor was it until induced to pour out her whole soul into the bosom of an early friend, that she shared the blessed relief of tears.
Still the shadow of grief was slow in lifting itself from her spirit. Indeed, it is doubtful whether its effects ever wholly passed away. For though she returned to life's duties, there was about her that utter chastisement of earthly hope, that sublimation of the soul, whether in sorrow, or in joy, which ever looks upward for its perfect rest. With the most earnest assiduity she strove to console her widowed mother, and for her sake preserved cheerfulness of deportment, and again took the smile upon those beautiful lips, but it was not like her smile. It was that of a pensive spirit, ripened for a purer clime, having its treasures already garnered up there.
She still labored for the improvement of the pupils, whose education she continued to conduct, veiled her sorrows lest they should darken the pathway of her remaining parent, strove to be a comforter to her widowed sister, and to advance the welfare of her fatherless children. The perusal of sacred poetry formed the principal solace of the few intervals of leisure in which she allowed herself, but its composition was laid aside after the departure of the beloved one who had been the prompting spirit.
