gentle, that I cannot help being interested in her."
That night at supper Mrs. Wilson's first question to the teacher, under whose care Julia was more especially placed, was "What do you think of our new pupil?"
"That she is the most beautiful and quiet little creature that I ever saw. But she is sadly home-sick. We asked her if she had any sisters, and she could scarcely tell us that she had one, whose name was Ellen, for sobbing. Her only anxiety seems to be to take care of a little book—a prayer-book—which she has kept in her hand, and now has under her pillow. There is something written at the beginning, but, as she was careful of it, I asked no questions." Poor Julia! this was another night of the many during which she had cried herself to sleep. Accustomed to the quiet and seclusion of the nursery, the number of new faces frightened her. She was not used to companions of her own age, she had no amusements in common with theirs, yet they were something like Ellen—but alas they were not her.
