person of piety and judgment, she wished her last gift to be one which
might be worthy of their regard in youth and in age, and through all
the changes of life. It did not take any long time to determine what
this parting gift should be.

The evening before she went away, she called Louisa and Emma into the
room. They both looked round upon the table and chests of drawers, but
no sign of a present was to be seen; no parcel neatly wrapped up in
brown paper, nor anything like a work-box or a desk. But, to do them
justice, the thought of what they might receive was not then uppermost
in their mind; for their heart was full of grief at the prospect of
parting with their aunt, whom they dearly loved, and who was going so
very far away.

"Sit down beside me, dear children," said their aunt Harding, "and let
us have a little talk together, quietly by ourselves. I wish to give
you a few parting words of advice. I am sure that you will not forget
me when I am gone; and when you think of me, I hope that the good
things which I have tried to teach you will also come into your mind."

Both Louisa and Emma said, again and again, that they could never
forget her, and they promised to remember her advice.

"Your mamma will often write to me concerning you," said aunt Harding,
"and I cannot express the joy that it will afford me to hear that you
are learning to hate sin more and more, and to live like children of
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I shall be glad to find that you
are improving in your studies, and I hope that every letter will bring
me an account of your progress in useful knowledge; but I shall be far
more anxious to hear of your being good and dutiful to your parents;